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writtenbyrain · 3 years

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The Holes of My Sweater

Read it on AO3

Summary: When Ladybug and Chat Noir agree to a Christmas gift exchange in an effort to brighten Chat's solitary holiday season, they might just find themselves exchanging more than gifts. Or, in which an ugly Christmas sweater unwittingly leads to an identity reveal.

Notes:

Written for Day 28 of the @miraculousfanworks 2020 Advent Calendar Prompt: Ugly Sweaters Thank you to @Kizerain, @HopefulPhoenix, and @TheBluemoon for being kind and thorough betas!

The winter months had again approached with their usual lack of fanfare, the colder weather settling in to coax most citizens back into the warmth of their homes.

Most, but not all.

Chat Noir and Ladybug sat poised atop the edge of one of the many nondescript Parisian rooftops, their legs dangling in the snow-dusted air. Their standard patrol had ended about an hour ago, yet they found themselves reveling in the simple joy of each other’s company.

“So, Chat Noir, any particular plans for Christmas?” Ladybug asked, her legs kicking out one after another to keep her blood flowing in the chill.

It was an innocent enough question — particularly as it followed their earlier conversation about their favorite holiday drinks (hot cocoa for both, it seemed) — and yet Chat Noir went rigid in response.

“Can’t say I do, Bugaboo,” he replied, his breath ghosting in front of him. “I suppose I’ll just enjoy the evening in my room with Plagg. Maybe I can ask my classmate to make a tiny Santa hat for him, though I’ll have to tell her it’s for a pet hamster or gerbil or something.”

While Chat Noir had dropped hints here and there that he wasn’t overly fond of his time spent at home, Ladybug was still startled to hear that his isolation would extend to the point of the holiday season.

“Wait, you won’t be with your family for the holiday?” Her eyes creased in concern, her head tilting to one side as she tried to catch his eye.

“No. I won’t.”

Normally, Ladybug wasn’t one to poke or pry at the subject of Chat’s life. The secrecy of their identities was essentially her one Golen Rule, and any breach of information would send her straight into deflection mode. But this? This, she found particularly distressing.

“Chat, you’re going to be alone for Christmas?”

“Well… Things just aren’t the same this year.” “But they’re different enough that you won’t even be around your family?” Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder. “Or what about your friends from school?” “Well, they all have their own lives and families,” Chat said as he leaned back on his hands, his face tipping up in an effort to avoid his partner’s unabashed look of concern. “And with Father, well… nothing has been the same since… Anyway, he’s not exactly a jolly guy to be around, even when he is around, so it’s really no big deal.”

Ladybug pursed her lips in thought.

“Well, that simply won’t do.” She removed her hand from his shoulder to poke his nose with her forefinger. “That settles it, we’re just going to have to have a little gift exchange, then.”

Chat perked up, finally turning to look her in the eye.

“A gift exchange?” A small smile emerged. “Between the two of us?”

“Well, I’d be remiss if I didn’t get a gift for one of Paris’s best heroes,” she said. “Of course, this does mean we’ll have to give each other at least three facts about ourselves so that we can come up with some good gifts. But don’t get any funny ideas.”

She had to throw in that last word of caution, taking note of the now-wider grin and upturned eyebrow of her partner.

“Why, M’lady, no funny ideas here,” he quipped. “We’re all business. All bright and merry business.”

Ladybug didn’t make any attempt to smother her smile. Any joy she could infuse into Chat Noir’s holiday invariably infused joy into her holiday, which was somewhat a gift in and of itself.

“Okay, then I’ll go first.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, well, my favorite color is pink, I love hamsters, and… Jagged Stone is my favorite musician. So that makes three!”

She swung her legs back up, crossing them and turning so that her knees bumped closer to Chat’s.

“Now it’s your turn, Chaton. ”

“Alright, well, first things first, please don’t buy me camembert,” he laughed. “Plagg will kill me for saying that, but seriously, I think I’ve already had my fill of stinky cheese for a lifetime. But, other than that… well, I love Ultimate Mecha Strike III!”

Ladybug perked up this time. “So do I!” “You do? Well, M’lady, we’ll have to have ourselves a little battle sometime,” he said, playfully punching the air before continuing. “Let’s see, number two is that I also love anime.”

“Nerd.”

“Number three… well, I don’t really get much of a say in what I wear.” His earlier enthusiasm slowly faded, his hand coming up to self-consciously cradle the back of his neck. “I always have to follow certain rules with my clothing. Don’t worry, I won’t say why, but it would be nice to just… wear something a little more personal for once, you know? Something silly or fun. I don’t know.”

Chat looked sideways at a deflated Ladybug.

“I’m so sorry!” He threw his hands up. “This is supposed to be fun, and I’m just dragging it down.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m just really sorry to hear that you don’t get to express yourself like that,” Ladybug reassured him. “Clothing is one of my favorite ways to express myself.”

“Really, Bug, it’s okay.” Chat Noir affixed his signature smile in an attempt at blitheness. “Anyway, that makes three facts for us both, and it’s getting late. I hate to take away such a handsome view from you, but this cat is feline pretty tired.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “Oh please, I was over the view hours ago.”

Chat Noir stood, holding out a hand to help Ladybug up before extending his baton.

“Sure you were.” He winked, turning and bracing himself to vault to the next rooftop. “Stay warm, M’lady.”

Ladybug remained in place after he left, watching his silhouette bound and disappear over the rooftops.

“Stay warm, Chaton ,” she whispered.

___________________

While Ladybug was usually late to her meet-ups with Chat, she did her best to arrive on time the night of their gift exchange. Not only did she not want to leave him waiting, but she was also exceptionally excited to see his reaction to her gift.

She had spent almost every evening for the last two weeks trying to perfect the handmade garment. The pads of her fingers were still sore from constant pinpricks, and her eyes remained persistently dry from the nights she stayed up late to design, edit, and sew for hours at a time.

But it would be worth it. She knew .

Of course, her partner just might have been more excited than her, considering he was already sitting on their favorite beam of the Eiffel Tower.

“Someone’s early,” she noted as she recalled her yo-yo, landing gracefully a few feet away.

“And someone’s not late!” Chat Noir sat up straighter, careful not to drop a crisp red envelope into the thin air.

Ladybug bit her lip to try and suppress her smile as she approached him, her own package hidden in her hands behind her back.

“Well, I suppose there’s no use in waiting.” She edged closer. “So … Merry Christmas, Chaton. ”

She pulled her gift from behind her back, holding it out with both hands.

“Why, M’lady, you shouldn’t have,” Chat jokingly chided her, standing and extending his hand to trade off his own gift. “This was all your idea, so you should open your gift first.”

“Well, if you insist,” she said, handing off her package before sliding her thumb beneath the fold of the envelope.

Chat watched with a bright grin, his eyes scouring her face for the first hints of a reaction. His ears twitched forward in excitement as he heard her gasp.

“VIP tickets to Jagged Stone’s next concert?” Ladybug looked up in shock, the tickets gripped tightly between her right thumb and forefinger. “Chat, how ? This show was already sold out, let alone with the chance to buy tickets like these !”

“Just trust that I know how to work some Christmas magic of my own.” Chat bowed elegantly, his hands fanning outward as he winked up at his partner.

“Okay, kitty,” Ladybug giggled before tucking the envelope inside of her yo-yo. “Now it’s your turn.”

She found herself bouncing on the balls of her feet in similar anticipation as she watched Chat tear easily at the package with his clawed hands. And as he unfurled the wrapping to reveal the soft fabric beneath, his lips tugged of their own accord into a look of unrestrained mirth.

He let the inner tissue paper fall to the side and held up an ugly Christmas sweater in both of his hands.

“Do you like it?” Ladybug asked shyly.

The base of the sweater itself was black with a gaudy, neon-green paw print sewn into the center. Bright circles bubbled out from the center, mimicking the appearance of a Cataclysm — only mocked up to resemble that of Christmas ornaments. Small Christmas lights were sewn delicately into the hem around the sleeves, neck, and bottom of the fabric.

“Like it?” Chat Noir sputtered. “This—this is amazing!”

He began to pull the garment hastily over his head, prompting a cautious grimace from Ladybug.

“Careful, now, Chaton , otherwise you’ll—”

Chat Noir froze, stopping in dismay to inspect the way two claws had snagged and hooked straight through the seam near to the sweater’s neckline.

“Oh no! No, no, Ladybug, I’m so sorry!”

Ladybug just smiled and shook her head patiently, reaching out to once again rest a placating hand on his shoulder. “That’s okay, Chat Noir. I can just—”

Beep beep beep

The two startled before looking down toward Ladybug’s yo-yo.

“An akuma alert.” Chat gingerly extricated himself from the fabric.

“The sweater will have to wait. Right now, we have a job to do.” Ladybug turned out to scan the skyline. “Just don’t wear it until I have the chance to fix it, okay?”

___________________

Marinette arrived at school the next morning about as groggy as usual. While the akuma battle hadn’t taken all too much time for Paris’s illustrious heroes to defeat, it still hadn’t left her with much time to make up for nearly two week’s worth of lost sleep.

“Geez, girl, devoid of caffeine, much?” Alya poked one finger into Marinette’s exposed cheek. The other was pressed to the desk as she attempted to grab whatever fleeting moments she could with her eyes still closed.

“Just, uh, stayed up late sewing again.” Marinette failed to stifle a yawn.

“Well, you can sleep later,” Alya teased her. “You prince charming just walked in. Don’t you want to wish him ‘good morning’?”

That merited a slight raise of Marinette’s head (albeit the movement was devoid of her usual frantic energy), and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust before a small gasp caught in her throat.

That sweater.

“Hey, nice ugly Christmas sweater, Adrien!” Alya called. “I’m surprised your father let you out in anything that wasn’t trademarked as an Agreste original.” She discreetly elbowed Marinette in the ribs as Adrien took his seat.

“Y-yeah!” Marinette stuttered. She sat up stiffly, bracing her hands on the desk as a light blush bloomed across her face. “Um, where get you it? I mean, w-where did you get it?”

Adrien beamed. “From a friend.”

“A friend? Like… in our class, friend?”

“Oh, no,” he clarified. “Just someone I had a little gift exchange with last night.”

Marinette’s blush turned cold, her whole body going icy as her eyes caught on the frayed fabric near the sweater’s neckline.

Then she began to sweat.

“Marinette,” Alya interrupted softly, leaning in to inspect her friend’s face with mild concern. “You good, girl? You look… kind of sick.”

“Yeah!” Marinette took a slow, shuddering breath, pausing a moment to school her features into something resembling that of an assuring smile. She then glanced at the boy who had turned back to face the front of the classroom. “I’m totally fine.”

Several minutes passed by wherein Marinette could only quietly watch the back of her classmate’s head, inwardly comparing him — the tilt of his shoulders, the lilt of his voice — to that of her partner’s. And there was simply no mistaking it.

Not anymore, at least.

In front of her, Adrien began to rummage through his bag, searching for a class item that was apparently nowhere to be found. Sighing a little, he stood up to address Nino, who had just taken his own seat beside him in the front row.

“I’ll be right back, I forgot something in my locker.”

“Me too!” Marinette stood quickly, struggling to tame the warmth that had returned with a vengeance to her cheeks. “Not ‘me too’ as in I, uh, forgot something, too, but as in I… I’ll come lock you to the withers! I mean, come with you to, um, to the lockers!”

Alya sat gaping at Marinette before she remembered to throw her an encouraging thumbs-up. Meanwhile, the rest of the classroom sat watching in silent interest before the girls began knowingly whispering to each other, muted giggles erupting before being shushed by one another.

Adrien, blessedly, seemed oblivious to his peers’ varied reactions.

“Sure, a little company sounds nice.” He gestured forward politely, allowing Marinette to step down the stairs before him. Her legs felt wooden beneath her, and her tongue had gone dry in her mouth.

What do I say? What do I say?

The two exited the class silently, Adrien glancing curiously at Marinette as she mentally tested her words. She kept her face fixed forward for the duration of their walk, and it was only when they had finally entered the locker room and Adrien reached forward to grab his textbook that she gently grabbed his outstretched wrist.

Adrien was startled but didn’t recoil, providing Marinette with the opportunity to steel herself before meeting his eyes.

“I like your ugly sweater.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. But I thought I told you not to wear it until I could fix it for you… Chaton.”

Adrien paused, his eyes wavering over Marinette’s in brief panic before the warmth of realization set in.

And then he smiled.

“So you did… M’lady.”

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

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Chapter Seven: Spencerspective

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 2,512

MASTERLIST

Spencer didn’t fall asleep for hours. He tried not to keep watching the door, but keeping Y/N safe was more important than rest.

If you're exhausted tomorrow how are you supposed to protect her?

Finally, with that thought in his mind, he let himself succumb to slumber, which was surprisingly easy with Y/N cuddled against him.

After a night of horrible dreams and tossing and turning, he woke up to the wonderful smell of shampoo and flowers. Following his nose and breathing deeply, eyes still closed, he found himself suddenly with a face full of hair.

Spencer yanked back, eyes blowing open.

No. No. No.

It all came back in a rush. She’d gotten closer to him, holding him tighter than anyone had in a long time. And he hadn’t resisted. He’d given in to her so quickly.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like her. He did. Too much. His job was to protect her, not fall in . . . fall for her. Plus, it was taking advantage. She was only getting close to him because he was protecting her. It was a whole reverse Florence Nightingale situation. If they’d met anywhere else, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance.

But now, with her back pressed up against him — a little too much — how could he resist.

He had to. He couldn’t hurt her like that. He was just going to slip out of bed and go back to the floor. Without waking her up. Easy.

“Mm,” she moaned, stretching her spine and snuggling against him tighter.

Oh no. There was no way he could sneak away with one of his arms under her head and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. Not without waking her up.

How had he even gotten into this position? Looking back, it was his fault for pointing out just how large her bed truly was.

Wiggling a bit, she pulled a pillow closer, pushing herself even closer to him.

Now another problem was . . . rising. Literally.

It was a no-win situation. He could slip out of bed, almost definitely waking her up resulting in a potentially huge misunderstanding. Or, she’d wake up before he could leave the bed and certainly feel his. . . .

He had to get up.

As gently as he could, he removed his hand from her waist and slipped the other one out from under her head, placing it softly back on the pillow.

Her whimper at the loss of his warmth was like a dagger through the heart. More than anything, he wished he could jump back in bed with her and comfort her, holding her how he’d wanted to last night. How he’d found himself holding her this morning.

Why are you so crazy for this girl?! You barely know her!

“Spencer?” even with hours of sleep, her voice was still so melodic. If he weren’t so cold without her against him, he would have melted.

“Hey,” he said softly — too softly, get it together, Spencer!

“Is everything okay?” she rubbed her eyes sleepily, adorably.

“Yeah, yeah, I just, um, had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Nearly 1:30.”

“PM?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.”

She sat up and blinked, looking at the space on the bed where Spencer had been.

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him.

“What do you want to do today?” He tried to say it casually like he cared more about what they’d do rather than what she wanted to do. It was unclear if that had come across.

“I don’t know,” she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I kinda wanna go out?”

Spencer froze.

“Go out? Like on a . . .” he trailed off.

“Like a date,” she mumbled, then, quickly: “As a cover, of course. I just think it might be a good distraction.”

But Spencer was already shaking his head fervently.

“It’s too dangerous. In fact, nightclubs are responsible for about 60 percent of rapes and 20 percent of murders. It’s the perfect place to commit most crimes. No one is paying any attention and—“

“Spencer!” she interrupted, “I didn’t mean a nightclub. I mean, seeing you dance sounds amazing but that’s not really my scene. What about like a restaurant?”

“A restaurant?”

He considered it. Respectable restaurants had professional waiters, unlike nightclubs; better security; and, best of all, they were more spaced out, meaning less opportunity for a stranger to get close. He’d have to be on high alert, though.

“I know a great place nearby,” she spoke up, breaking his train of thought.

“I don’t know. . . .” he said, still wary.

“It’s walking distance.”

His mistake was meeting her eyes. She looked so hopeful, so helpless. Oh god, there was a hint of puppy dog eyes. How could he resist?

Seriously, how?

“Okay,” he said, giving in as she let out a little squeak of happiness, heart warming at the sound. “But at the slightest danger, we leave.”

“Yes! Of course!”

“And no alcohol.”

She hesitated for a split second, then sighed.

“Yes, okay.”

“And no dancing,” he added, sliding into the bathroom, leaving the door partially open.

“WHAT!?”

“Hey, it’s almost seven.”

Spencer and Y/N had been slumped on the couch for hours watching old episodes of Doctor Who and arguing about the science of time travel.

“Time doesn’t work that way! It’s like a line.”

“But what if you went back and changed something?”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that because it would have already happened. Like if you in the future traveled to right now, it would happen right now, but since you didn’t just now, then it doesn’t happen in the future. It’s the rules of physics.”

She’d scoffed at that.

“Maybe time doesn’t follow the rules of physics.”

“Okay, speaking as a certified genius with a Ph.D. in Chemistry, you are on dangerous grounds.”

And then she’d thrown a pillow at him, the both of them descending into giggles.

Spencer had almost forgotten why he was there. Why he was really there.

“Oh, yeah. Should we go?”

Y/N laughed derisively, gesturing to her t-shirt and pajama shorts.

“Not like this. Gimme fifteen minutes.”

She jumped up and ran to her bedroom, closing the door.

“Door open!” Spencer reminded her.

She stuck her head out and blew a raspberry but she did leave the door slightly ajar. Not enough that he could see what she was doing, just enough to know that she was safe.

Meanwhile, he rummaged through his bags, trying to find something appropriate to wear. Everything he had was either too casual or way too casual.

Finally settling on a cornflower blue dress shirt, a grey sweater to wear over it, dark slacks, and a jet black tie, he stood, waiting by the door and fidgeting with his sweater so it covered his revolver. He knew it made her nervous and didn’t want to put any stress on her that could be avoided.

The door to her room opened and Spencer’s head shot up. His jaw practically dropped.

Sure, her outfit was dazzling, small sparkly black heels, a short swishy blue dress that was both casual and classy (and happened to match his shirt), and long dangly earrings with little clocks on the ends, but what really got him was the way she was looking at him. Expectantly, patiently.

He realized she was waiting for him to say something.

“You look . . .” he tried so hard to think of a compliment that expressed his awe while remaining professional. “Stunning.”

A smile lit up her face and Spencer’s heart soared.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, adjusting his tie.

The contact made him jump.

“Ahem, shall we?” he opened the door and held out his elbow for her to take.

“We shall.”

So she took his arm and they set off into the night, locking the door securely behind them.

An hour later, they walked up outside a small bistro, Spencer slightly out of breath.

“When you said walking distance. . . .”

“Three miles is walking distance!” she said defensively.

“For superman!”

“Oh come on! You’re in the FBI, I'm sure you do your fair share of chasing bad guys.”

“I’m an FBI profiler. And while I do enjoy the occasional walk through the park, exercise isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he explained, gesturing to his lanky body.

“Suppose not. Then again, I saw the way you ran after that blue car. I know you’ve got some hidden muscles under all that . . . dork.”

He feigned offense at her remark.

“Pardon me, ma’am, I am a nerd. Very big difference.”

“Mm-hmm. Something only a dork would know,” she laughed, booping his nose and walking into the restaurant, Spencer taking a moment to be shocked before following her.

They got a nice table by the window at her request. It seemed she knew the waiter, calling him by his name and exchanging a brief greeting, introducing Spencer as Doctor Reid.

“Have you been here a lot?”

“No, never, but the waiter here, Tom, works at my regular coffee shop. Barista by day, waiter by night.”

Spencer laughed softly.

Okay, so she’s never been here before, meaning she’s never been here before with a guy, meaning she wanted to take you somewhere special. Meaning she likes y—

“Stop it!” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth.

“Hmm?”

Spencer blushed.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering about what to order. I don’t really go to a lot of restaurants, to be honest.”

“Me either,” she smiled softly at him and Spencer found himself smiling back.

“Ready to order, Doctor Reid?” The waiter said, smiling.

“Ladies first,” Spencer said, relishing in the way Y/N smiled at him. This would be a long night.

“ . . . and the whole point of his writing is to experience a whole new idea of life!”

“Did you even read Walden?”

After the food came, a chicken empanada for Spencer and a bowl of pasta for Y/N, the conversation had somehow shifted to a heated discussion of what Henry David Thoreau’s ideals were.

“I’ve read . . . parts.”

Spencer gave her a doubtful look and she sighed.

“I’ve read the Sparknotes.”

“Exactly! His point is to go live in the forest to achieve inner peace. The problem is, as humans, we need society and interactions with others in order to function. I actually had a coworker who had a cabin in the woods and he never mentioned becoming one with nature.”

“Well, maybe he just picked the wrong forest. Like, I couldn’t relax in the Forbidden Forest. It’s all about location.”

“Forbidden Forest?”

“Like from Harry Potter.”

Spencer glanced away.

“You’ve never read Harry Potter?” she said incredulously.

“Nope,” he blushed. “I’ve always preferred—“

“Oh god, please don’t say Twilight.”

“Nooo,” Spencer chuckled, “I was gonna say I prefer Doyle’s works.”

“Oh, I love Doyle!” she said happily. “Everybody always talks about Sherlock Holmes but have you read The Narrative of John Smith? It’s definitely some of his best work.”

Spencer’s mind went haywire. She had brought up his favorite book of all time in casual conversation. Who was this girl?

“Spencer?”

He snapped out of his daydream and looked at the woman in front of him. She was working on two doctorates, she loved Doyle and Doctor Who, she owned a goddamn bookstore, and she walked almost everywhere. How was he not supposed to fall for her?

“Spencer?”

“Yes, yeah, sorry.”

The waiter came up and placed the check next to him.

“For the gentleman.”

Avoiding eye-contact, Spencer took out his wallet to pay.

“Hey!” she swatted his hands away, making him drop his wallet into his lap. “We‘re not leaving yet! What’s the rush?”

This relaxed him a little. His nerves were starting to get to him. C’mon, Spencer, you’re a professional. Get it together.

“There’s no rush!” he quickly recovered. “I was simply checking to see if I had the adequate resources for the evening,” he smiled widely, waggling his eyebrows. But she had frozen, a shocked expression on her face.

“What?” she breathed.

Spencer cocked his head, not understanding her confusion. He was clearly reaching into his wallet for a surprise. What other resources did people keep in their walle—

Then it hit him.

“Oh! Oh, no I meant. . .” he fumbled with his wallet, trying desperately to pull out—

“This!” a shiny golden key. “I, uh, have a surprise planned.” It was extremely hard not to blush, and he was even less sure he was succeeding.

But, upon seeing her face contort into one of excitement, he was reassured.

“Okay! What are you waiting for? Let’s go now!”

And she jumped up, leaving the appropriate change in the check.

“C’mon!” Spencer was about to protest her paying, but she was grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his seat, out of the restaurant.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be surprising you, here!” he protested, stopping her just outside the door.

“Fine, lead the way, Doctor,” she giggled, bowing deeply.

Spencer curtseyed and walked off in the direction they had come, his woman on his arm.

A woman, he corrected himself. Not his.

“So,” Y/N said after a while of walking, “Where are you taking me?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Ha. You know, statistically, around eighty percent of people who say that, secretly love them.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she spun around and started to walk backward, maintaining eye contact, “but I’m not exactly a person that most statistics apply to.”

“So you don’t like surprises?”

She frowned.

“Touché.”

Spencer laughed as she spun back around, walking next to him. Their footsteps became a rhythm and they stayed silent for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

Then, Y/N’s footsteps started to falter, breaking the pattern.

“You ok?” Spencer knew that people favoring the balls of their feet while walking was a sign of anxiety.

Rather than answer verbally, she yanked him down a dark alleyway, pushing against him.

“Y/N?”

She was holding him against her, her own back to the brick wall.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, this isn’t how I wanted it.”

“What are you sor—Mmf—“

A hand snaked around his tie and pulled him down sharply. Their lips met in an instant.

He should have pulled away. He should have stayed professional. He should have done anything but what he did.

Hands flying to the side of her face, he pulled her closer, coaxing open her mouth and moaning softly into it, feeling her hands travel down his waist, running along his belt.

Her lips were so soft. He’d wanted this so bad. And now that she was against him, lips against his, he realized how much he’d needed it. It wasn’t fair to her. He’d deal with that later.

But before he could process anything else, a sudden weight left his hips, her lips left his, and the unmistakable noise of a gunshot rang through the air behind him.

@aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13 @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @eu-solidao

#matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #ao3 #criminal minds #fluff #humor #angst

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kareofbears · 3 years

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persona 5 strikers thoughts and feelings

This is going to be a long post. Like, the type of post you’d only really have time to read when you’re trying to sleep but you’re not ready to be unconscious yet so you’re just looking for something to do to spend your time with minimal effort.

So in 2018, a masterpiece was born into the world: Into the Spider-verse was released and it was amazing—it’s honestly the best spiderman movie we have without a doubt, and it’ll be very far into the future before Spider-verse is beaten as the best spiderman movie. Them’s the facts. Then in 2019, Spider-man: Far From Home was dropped. It’s a great movie! Great characters, great continuation of who these characters are and works fantastic as a continuation of a story. It’s really hard trying to take the torch of a previous movie (or in Marvel’s case, juggling twenty something movies) and come up with a new movie that both works on its own, as well as being the next step in this series of films. Thus, with that idea in mind, I think it’s kind of unfair to judge into the spiderverse and far from home, because these are two movies with two completely different objectives in mind.

Okay, so this is still a persona 5 strikers post, I promise, but the idea is the same: Persona 5 could basically do whatever it wanted—new story, new characters, new everything, and it’s just plain old awesome. However, Persona 5 strikers did not have that sort of freedom. It was bound to the original game, and it had its own rules and stuff it had to keep intact, characters they had to work with, and on top of that, it had to justify its existence as a sequel (lets pretend money doesnt exist lmfao).

SO, the big question is: did it do that? Did it justify its existence?

And my answer: holy fuck did it ever do that

I came into this game knowing the extreme bare minimum. I knew there was someone named Sophia, and i knew there was roadtrip, and i knew there were Personas. That’s my knowledge of it before i played it on the Switch. I should also clarify like, early on, that i was not expecting anything from this game. At all. I was the world’s biggest cynic of this game—if you scroll down my p5s tag far enough, youll just see me complaining about a game that hasn’t even come out yet. I was fully expecting to have this be a Waifu show, and any male character that isn’t Akira to just be shoved aside like some kind of nerd in a high school hallway, and i have never been more pleased to be wrong. In fact, i actually owe it an apology, because of how fucking rude i was for no reason!!! Because this game deserves everything to be honest.

Persona 5 strikers is, frankly, insane. Insane in the sense that it got to pull shit off that just would never have existed in the original game, because the original game is scared. It had to be as impressive as possible and garner as much attention as possible. Strikers does not have that problem—every single person who bought that game does not need to be convinced that persona 5 is a good game. They already played it. That means Atlus can just fuck around and have a good time, and man did they have a good time. There’s still scenes that still shock me if i think about it too hard, because i’m used to atlus having to follow this sort of rule set when it comes to persona 5 (or any of the main games im assuming, but i havent played them.) And on top of that, there’s still shit that’s Atlus Trademarked Branded in a good way. The style of story of story telling, and revealing the mystery that is so integral to what p5 is, is still there.

So, to make this even a little bit comprehensible, i will make a list!

First of all, What is this game?

In short, this game is an OVA of an anime. It’s bonus side content that has one thing in mind: to showcase these lovable characters more by putting them in fun situations. That’s it, and it is just phenomenal. That was the main point of, i’d say, like forty hours of the game. It’s just fun times with fun characters.

But to get deeper of what i think is happening, or what they were thinking during the development, is that this is a second opportunity. Persona 5 (as we all know) had a lot of problems, and we were not quiet about those problems. We yelled it all out, made posts, made complaints on every social media platform ever. And Atlus heard all of them, and Strikers is a way to mitigate those mistakes. Aside from being a fun OVA, Strikers also works to be a deeper exploration of these characters—more specifically, the characters that did not receive much in the original game. Creating this sequel is having the ability to redo what they felt (or to be more specific, we felt) in the original game while adding new ones. I will get to that in a second.

The format of the game

Absolutely brilliant to throw them on a road trip. P5V already forced us to experience Shibuya for 200+ hours, and im so glad that they didn’t do that again. Going from town to town, making us experience these new places alongside our favorite characters is so good, and it just makes sense. It’s fun, it’s lighthearted, and it’s actually shockingly good. But one thing i do want to talk about early on is the way the story unfolds and the villains that they use, and what they do with it because it’s very interesting.

So as we explore japan and stuff, we encounter jails, and with those jails comes an antagonist. This antagonist works to be a parallel to one of our characters. That character will find it in their hearts to feel bad for the antagonist, because the antagonist could have been them had the original game not happen. At first I thought all of the thieves were gonna get an antagonist, and i was really hyped for the ryuji one. And then came to hour forty of the game where i realized “yeah that’s not gonna happen. There’s just not enough time.” And i was right, and the game ended. But i am not salty at all, honestly, because the people who got a direct antagonist were: Ann, Yusuke, and Haru. (we wont count zen and sophie).

Is there a trend??? Yes. these are all characters in the original game that have received the worst treatment by atlus. The three of them are basically cast aside the minute they finished their original arc, and its horrible! BUT that’s why this is the path that atlus chose for them—to give them more depth, and screentime, and a way to show their inner self. That isn’t to say that the ones who aren’t those three (makoto, futaba, mona, akira, ryuji) didn’t get anything. Futaba still has her thing at the end with ichinose, and she was very prevalent and animated during the rest of the game. Mona and Akira have to be a focal points, that’s just the nature of the game. The other two though, I will talk about in depth in a second.

Makoto

Y’all i poke fun at shumako fans sometimes cause its kind of easy and fun, but i honestly love makoto. In my very first playthrough of p5 (my first ever jrpg game, first persona game, i had no idea what i was doing), i had only maxed out two characters: ryuji and makoto. And i know she had a lot of screentime and love in the original game which is great, but i truly felt like she was dissed in this game. Her only roles were

A driver

Someone to tell them “we don’t have a choice. Let’s keep going and see where this takes us.” (seriously, if you replay this game, you will see how much she does this)

Idk, i just wish she had more to do, especially compared to how much love they gave the other characters.

But let’s talk about some of the new characters!

Zenkichi

Damn you atlus. Damn you and your insistence at bringing in cop characters. I was fully on board with hating zenkichi, i was fucking ready for it. I was convinced that there was nothing they could do convince to like zenkichi. I was immune to their copaganda.

And then i ended up loving him, which makes me sad a little bit. I didn’t realize how desperate i was to have an adult who has a persona. Someone who wants the world to change just as much as they do, while still having that aspect of them that makes them adult. Like??? As someone who is technically an adult, its a breath of fresh air. An adult. Who fights. For justice. Using a persona. And god i love akane so much, and her obsession with the thieves (that scene is probably in my top ten fave scenes of the game). Also what i loved about zenkichi is that he fucking hates the cops!! He hates the system of the cops!! And thats why i actually really started to love him!! Because i thought it was atlus saying that the systematic problem of the police cannot be solved by one person, and zenkichi threw away his badge. I actually cried at that part!!

But then he became a cop again, and i was just :/ but as a character, i really love him to bits and would love to do a study on him, or at least use him as an outside pov. But! i absolutely love his persona, since im a les miserables fan hehe

Sophia

she’s probably my favorite new aspect of the game. I was ready to not like her—again, i just suck like that, lmfao—and when i saw her, i was scared that she was just another waifu. I mean, she was very cute after all. But then as the game went on, i thought she was a little too cute. And even further into the game, i finally slapped myself in the face and realized oh my god shes not a waifu. Shes a sister.

That blew my mind, im ngl to you. A female character that isn’t supposed to be romanced? By jove, what a miracle!

And she…is an amazing character. Im sorry, i just love her so much. I love her so much that she probably ranks as my fifth or sixth favorite character which is surprising even to me. Everything about her is delightful and invigorating. She’s funny??? Her comedic timing is amazing, and she has such chemistry with the rest of the team. She’s actually useful to the plot, and while her character design is a little too on the nose for me in terms of cuteness (i mean, good god she’s wearing oversized sweater to show how cute and tiny she is, and her hair has literal hearts in it), she is absolutely lovable.

But what i actually really wanna gush about for a second is sophia at the last stage of the game. You get the idea, i dont really like to get excited over things, so at this point i figured that there was nothing this game could do to shock me.

And then sophia had a persona awakening.

Like. holy fuck did i yell. I didnt realize what was happening until the music had already kicked in. and its just so fucking smart!!! Sophia??? The ai?? With no heart?? gOT A PERSONA???? AWAKENING??? BECAUSE SHE LEARNED WHAT THE HEART IS AND THE PASSION THAT YOU NEED IN ORDER TO GET A PERSONA??? I started crying honestly, because it was just so smart. And looking back on it now, its obvious!! Of course it would lead to this, it only made sense that the culmination of her character arc leads to her getting a persona, nothing else would have been as good. Also, her voice actor is just amazing?? When she was talking to ichinose at the end, i actually got incredibly emotional because of the line reads. Its just so spot on and it really captures the essence of sophia.

Muah. five stars Atlus. You got me.

Ryuji <3!!!!

Oh man. Oh boy. Okay. so where do i start.

Yall know i love him. Hes probably my favorite fictional male character of all time, and he is the one i was the absolute most cynical about in this game. I was expecting literally nothing. Nothing. Like. nothing. I thought he was just gonna keep being used as a joke, or a gag, and he’s gonna be super horny all the time for the other girls and it was gonna make me mad and there was gonna be some insane homophobic/queerphobic jokes in every other scene and i know i was being unfair, but i cant help it.

And then i played the first two hours of the game, and i cried the entire time. Because ryuji has never been better than he is in this game. Its crazy.

The ryuji in persona 5 strikers is who ryuji should have been/how he should have been treated this entire time. From the actual funny jokes (for example, the gold bar joke + his reaction to it in the beginning of the game), defending his female friends instead of being the one people need to defend from (natsume arc), and the fact that he was the one to be there with morgana and akira in the very beginning of the game. Its such a small thing that they didnt even need to do, but it was such an integral part of the original game for me, that i just was convinced that nothing like this was going to happen. But then it happened. Its just small stuff like that that could have been overlooked but it wasn’t because this game? Persona 5 strikers? Fucking loves ryuji.

The actual respect they gave this boy is insane and i wasn't ready for it. Like, they gave the shujin trio lunch, they gave the little charm of the katana when they were in natsume’s jail, and, in my opinion this is the second-best thing that they could have given ryuji is sophia. Ryuji and sophia are the pinnacle of a brother & sister bonding relationship in the game that isn’t akira & futaba. And its really prevalent too?? Small stuff from the beginning of the game (pulling her out of a jail, calling her shorty), but then you have the iconic “shut the fuck up” scene, and that scene was so well characterized and written and voice acted, that somehow him saying “fuck” was the least exciting part of that scene to me. Ryuji is an older brother to her, like its undoubtable, and its only further cemented at the end of the game where Ryuji helps out ichinose because he knows how much sophia cares about her. This game. Love ryuji. And i love. This game.

You know what else i love? Akiryu.

Guys. i was fully prepared to starve in terms of akiryu. But theres just. So much of it. I wont get too deep into it, because i think this aspect of the game for me still needs marinate a little bit. Like, what was that last shot when EMMA died and Ryuji walked to approach Akira so they could relish in their victory together?? And the smile from both of them??? What the fuck. That was amazing. Also Joker being saved by Ryuji when he was about to fall from the cliff to save sophia??? WHAT. The LEADER AND HIS RIGHT HAND MAN? WHAT. anyway. If theres anything i want to keep for myself in my own brain, its the akiryu aspect of this game, so i wont talk too much about that part of things (instead, itll probably manifest in fic lmfaooo).

Sure, there’s tidbits of stuff i dont like that they gave ryuji: sexualizing ann in that one cut scene and making him touch the jails even though it hurts, and i recognize those and frown at them, but for the most part, i am blown away with how they treated him.

Basically, Ryuji has never been better. From the opening of the game with him being the first text message and the one to sling his arm around akira, to the very last cut scene where it was ryuji wordlessly leaving because he’s so confident that they would never be separated for long, this game adores Ryuji and i am so so happy to say that.

The Royal aspect of things

Yeah, i had to talk about this, but itll be a short thing i just wanted to point out. Because the last part of this game...is persona 5 royal. Which is curious. Like taking reality and giving that power to someone else so you dont have to experience suffering anymore? And even like, the final section just looked a lot like the top half of maruki’s palace?? And whats even crazier is that we had a boss fight with sophia, just like how we had a boss fight with sumire? Royal and Strikers have like, the same thesis statement. It’s kind of uncanny.It’s interesting, it’s like atlus came up with these two ideas, and then just decided they liked both of them so much that they just did it twice. I don’t mind though—actually, in terms of how the last Palace/Jails go, i probably like them both about equally.

Though i did love the final battle in this one more than i did in royal. Splitting into teams?? Thats cool as fuck, and really innovative and i didnt see it coming. It also kicked my ass. A lot.

Now for the last stretch: the small stuff!

The music — bomb as fuck. In my heart, Daredevil is ranked the same as Rivers. Axe to grind is also amazing, but Daredevil owns me

Akechi — i really debated whether or not to talk about him, but i figured a bullet point should be enough. Im really shocked that he wasnt in this at all. Like not even a name drop. If this is an OVA, and the point of the game is to please the fans, and akechi is arguably the fan favorite character, i was really ready for something. But there was nothing, except for the pancake hallway if that even counts as a reference. Thats it. Thats all i wanted to say about him.

The humour — FUCKING HILARIOUS im convinced that in my fifty hour playtime, five of that is dedicated to me laughing and unable to continue the game

Akira — so much personality! His lines of dialogue are crazy sometimes (like. Whats up with him saying Ryuji has ‘nice abs’ when they were in bath? Im crazy and even i dont know what the fuck that could mean)

Battle system — oh my god i almost forgot to talk about this. I love it! I kind of miss the turn based aspect just because i found it very comforting for some reason, but this hack and slash style of gameplay is so invigorating because i do feel like it justifies shit like the baton pass and huge attacks. This battle system fully encompases how the Phantom Thieves are supposed to fight, you know what i mean?

Anyway, thats my thoughts on strikers. Loved it. Amazing. 9.3/10, wouldve been higher but Konoe’s Jail almost bored me to death. Also im a monster and i didnt do any requests that isn’t a fun one, teehee. As if i play persona 5 for the persona aspect of things.

#cant believe im done #but you know what?#i was actually at peace when i finished it #so i consider that a good healty thing #p5s #alex plays p5s #mine #p5 #my moon and stars #the leader and his right hand man

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hskinhome · 3 years

Note

[ My kin blog is @juicy-dude ]

Canon calls!! I copy//pasted from Google Docs so some words might seem funky or the layout may be weird. ^^;

Karkat Vantas 1 - Earth C - Dave & John

I don't remember a lot from the meteor other than at one point I think Kanaya was drinking something and then laughed. It was a purple drink (probably faygo oof) and it came out of her nose. I know that Dave liked to fuck around with music and he had that Hella Jeff and Sweet Bro comic he used to do. Nepeta and Terezi vandalized almost the whole meteor with their scribbles but otherwise, I don't remember there being a lot to work within forms of art. As annoying as he was, John was probably my moirail. He was the only other person that bothered to even attempt to pretend he was listening when I went off on a tangent about what was frustrating me other than Dave. That and, when they weren't aimed at me, he'd include me in planning out all these crazy elaborate pranks. I have a couple of memories on Earth C where we went out into some of the woods. I know that Gamzee, Sollux, and John were with me. John kept jumping out of nowhere and Gamzee almost got fed up and bashed his head in with a tree branch. My least favorite memory is of John dying the first time because he was the only human I really talked to at that point. One time Crab Dad and I were sparring and I remember it turned into kind of an arm wrestle with my sickle vs. his claw. Eridan was very manipulative towards Feferi but otherwise, his ego was the size of Mt. Everest towards the rest of us. Dave almost threw hands with fish dick, from what he tells me. Nepeta, Tavros, Jade, and John had a big group roleplay thing going on I think.

____________________________________

Karkat 2 - Doomed - Eridan & Sollux

Anger issues that never got fixed. Big depression from fuck if I know what. Doomed timeline because I don’t remember Earth C from this one. Terezi wasn’t a very fair judge, to put it subtly. She didn’t really share my feelings much to begin with and Vriska used my feelings for Terezi to manipulate me a lot. Terezi knew about it and let it happen. I remember her telling me this herself later on at some point. Eridan and I watched tons of movies together and we talked to each other about Sollux a lot, me in a flushed way and him in more of a pitched light.

____________________________________

Mituna Captor - Dream Bubbles - Cronus & Kurloz

It's mostly memories from before "the accident" where Cronus was a pretty rad friend with whom I exchanged meaningless insults with and shit. It was mean and shit, yeah, but we knew we were just dicking around. Kurloz was my moirail for a long time and the three of us hung out a lot. The only reason Kurloz stopped liking Cronus after what happened was because of his reactions to what happened to me and the impact of the incident on my brain and how I didn't remember him the same way. Latula wasn't all that in the picture until right before the accident and she was a lot like Paige from Atypical (if you haven't watched that show on Netflix, I highly recommend you do) where she had a lot of rules and shit that she needed to work through. I don't know entirely when, but Kurloz eventually was able to get it through my dense, mashed potato brain after the incident that she wasn't all that great for me and, after hyperfocusing on what he'd pointed out for a little while, I found myself agreeing with him and eventually ended my matespritship with Latula. Kurloz and Meulin didn't work out for some reason can't remember, but I know he told me what happened and after a while, Kurloz and I got together as matesprits. I stumbled upon one of those memory bubbles and it happened to be one of Cronus's memories with me before my brain got fried. He caught me "snooping" through the memory and, after realizing what memory he had left laying around, we talked about it and I understood him better, like I did before the accident. It didn't take long for him to worm his way into my pale quadrant. I wore a sweater instead of that suit. It was yellow with black stripes, but still had the Gemini symbol on it. Other than that, I wore jeans and yellow converse-type shoes. I didn’t wear my helmet unless I was skateboarding. Cronus was my grape and Kurloz was my plum. I think I was their banana or something like that but that just came to me so.

____________________________________

Kankri Vantas - Dream Bubbles - Cronus

I took some time away from others to try and have one of those little “self-discovery” things. I don’t think anyone tried to stop me from leaving, but I remember being very close with Cronus. I don’t remember who it was or what exactly they said, but someone had threatened me, which was my final little push to just go. Everyone was sick of my constant talking, so I went on my own for a while. I had found myself a pretty secluded place that wasn’t too far from a salamander village, but it wasn’t too close, either. Their language was beyond what I could learn and so I had to go off gestures for communication, which helped me realize that I didn’t need to speak so much to talk to someone. I worked mostly on my writings and how I portrayed myself to my peers while separated. My writings shifted from mostly lectures to strictly poetry gradually. Cronus and I used to watch Grease very often before I left. It kind of started to change my usual attire too? I know that I didn’t wear just a straight up sweater or the leggings anymore. I wore dark red jeans and a black/red letterman over a thinner red turtleneck. The lettermen jacket had a red cancer symbol on the logo.

____________________________________

Mallek Adalov - Tegiri & Lanque

Tegiri and I were big nerds for ninja/martial arts type shit. We nerded out at convention type of things and he eventually became my moirail. Lanque started out as my kismesis but at some point we quad jumped and he ended up as my matesprit. He and I spent a lot of time on rooftops overlooking the city and talking about everything. I think that’s when we quad jumped. We moved in together at some point and we couldn’t decide on the color for the walls, so it ended up looking a lot like the dress from Sleeping Beauty. MC’s route with me was the one where they yeeted out of my car so I never really got to know them. Diemen was a close friend, but he shut me out of his more personal life a lot.

{Please let me know if this entire thing sent or not if you see this!}

Go message them if any of this sounds familiar! @juicy-dude

-Mod Nepeta

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sweetchup · 4 years

Text

N.E.R.D.S

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: None

Word count: 3,000+

Warnings: Slight Mature content, Slight Yandere/Stalkerish themes, and Shalnark being a Shark

Today was going to be the last day. The last day at this terrible job. After this shift you were going to call up your boss and officially quit.

At first working at a nearby Cyber Cafe sounded fun. It was close to your flat and had a reasonable paycheck. Plus being surrounded by video games and fellow nerds sounded even fun. Yet it wasn’t. You should’ve walked out on your first day, for in the very first moments of walking into the place you stepped onto a melted, probably expired as well, chocolate bar. In your brand new shoes as well. It was disgusting and tragic, yet not the worst thing that has happened at this job.

In a simple sense while you worked here you weren’t an employee of a fine establishment, you were basically a servant. You were called upon again and again to make food and drinks for people, picked up after people when they left, yelled at when prices were too high or you told them what to do, jeered at by your boss, deal with horrible and lazy coworkers and had to fix the computers when they broke down (instead of taking it to a proper tech shop).

Most of the time, you could deal with that. You would just bite your tongue and give your most friendliest employee smile. But in no ways you could handle the many costumers you were groped or harassed by. Half the time you just wanted to take one of the electric cords, wrap it around their neck and just strangle them. But you were a reasonable person, a responsible adult so you would just report it to your manager. Though, of course, the situation was mostly just shrugged off. According to him, customers know best. What a load of bullcrap.

If customers truly knew best then why were you on your knees cleaning the 33th piece of trash scattered at this computer station. Hell you had filled 1 ½ trash bags just by yourself from cleaning up after people. That was too much. They should know how to pick up after themselves, you aren’t their mother.

Stretching and popping your back, you stand up. All the empty stations were finally sparkling cleaned. Though it did come at the price of your back. You’ll probably need to see a chiropractor or at least get a message from all the leaning and bending over you do at your job.

It also didn’t help that your coworker, Susan, called in sick last minute so you were stuck with an extra shift today and the graveyard shift at that.

“Sick my ass..” You grumbled under your breath, making your way back to your desk in the corner.

Since the place wasn’t busy tonight you could probably get away with watching anime or playing a new game. Hell even a nap if you got comfortable enough. Yet you stop when you see someone. His head was down on the desk but you knew it was him just from his golden hair being lighted up from the computer screen.

‘What was his name again? Shalnark? Yeah shalnark.’

Shalnark was an unfamiliar face. He showed up randomly at the cafe three days ago. It was pretty hard not to notice him. Wearing a lilac purple outfit and a constant smile on his face, he hadn’t moved since he entered. Tapping away constantly at the computer in front of him. He had been pretty nice to you and even cleaned up after himself. You actually liked talking to him the few times you talked. Though it was somewhat creepy when for some reason he knew your name when he first checked in. Though that was probably due to your name tag or maybe you had met once before at a party or something, you seemed close in age.

On top of that it was gobsmacking, yet pretty impressive, that he has slept once in the 3 days he’s been here. The other coworkers caught onto it as well in their shifts when you weren’t here. Yet it seems even Shalnark can’t run away from Father Sleep. Especially based on the fact he was currently faced down on his desk, with empty coffee cups surrounding him of course.

Suddenly you shiver as another puff of cold air comes out of the air conditioner. That was another thing you didn’t understand about the owner. Why in the world did he keep the cafe at freezing temps? Even in the winter right now. Biting your lip and rubbing your hands across the thick sweater on your arms for warmth you look concerned at Shalnark.

Was he cold? Normally you wouldn’t care about customers but he seemed like a nice guy, well except for the first time you talked but even then, it was probably your name tag. You just couldn’t help but be concerned since he was wearing a tank top in the winter.

Making up your mind you grabbed one of the many blankets and pillows in the lobby and walked over to him. Shakily you stand over him, slightly scared to wake the attractive man up from his slumber.

As you think over your decision you notice something interesting on the computer screen in front of you.

“The Dragon Eye Collection…”

It was on his notepad too. Why was he researching the Dragon Eye Collection? Sure they were a collection of 5 of the most beautiful fire opals in the world. But they were owned by the emperor, more like dictator, HuinYa Fushi of the Baiys Region. Due to his way of ruling with an iron fist, no one knew what they looked like or where they were exactly located, all that people knew was that they definitely exist. What in the world would Shalnark want with that? Was he maybe a reporter or even a Gem hunter? Though that wasn’t any of your concern. You shouldn’t pry into someone's life or business like that anyways.

Placing your hand on Shalnark’s shoulder you ever so lightly shake him. How was he asleep? His skin was practically frozen to the touch.

“Mr Shalnark?”

After a few more soft calls of his name he finally awoke. Sitting up, he squints under the computer’s harsh glow and looks over to you. He blinked a couple of times more, clearing struggling to keep himself awake. Though the bags under his eyes already told you he was plenty sleep deprived.

“I’m sorry for waking you, Mr Shalnark. But I came to bring you a blanket and a pillow. I wouldn’t want you to hurt your neck or catch a cold.”

You hold out for the blanket and pillow for him to take but he only shakes his head. His usual smile across his face, though it was less pleasant now with the bags under his eyes.

“Thank you (y/n)! But, please, there’s no need. I need to get back to wor…….”

The smile across his face disappears and his head droops down. He seems to practically, almost, pass out right then and there but he thankfully catches himself. Trying to somehow play it off, he leans an arm against the desk.

“To work! Yes work! I'm a very busy man after all.” Shalnark laughs off. Giving you a wink, he turns his attention back to screen in front of him.

Biting your lip you don’t know what to do. You definitely don’t believe he’s ok yet you also can’t force him to sleep. You two are strangers after al—

“Oh!” You let out in surprise and shock.

With a quick reflex you lung forward and catch Shalnark before his head hits the desk. Thank goodness you were still standing there, that could have really hurt. You lean him back but Shalnark stops you as he grabs on one your arm that was holding onto his shoulder and a little across the front of his chest. With tired eyes he shoots you an apologetic look.

“Sorry I didn’t know what came over me at that moment.” He apologizes; squeezing your arm.

You bit your lip again for the third time tonight. He needs sleep. He can’t continue going on like this, he could actually get hurt or even sick. Ever so lightly you push him to lean back into his chair. He goes to rebut you but you lean down to his face, making him go quiet.

“I’m sorry Mr Shalnark but I think you should go to bed.”

“But—“

Playfully you hold a finger up to his nose and boop it.

“No buts Mister. It’s time for bed.”

It was unprofessional and even childish of you to boop a grown man’s nose and tell him it’s time for bed. But you could easily see he was obviously trying to fight back and hooping his nose seemed to stun him.

While he was still stunned, you reclined the big office chair and put the blanket and pillow on him. It wasn’t as comfy as a bed but anything is better than sleeping hunched over a desk at this point.

As you finally get him to settle in his eyes begin to droop, yet he seems to continue to try and fight against it. Reaching a hand out you rub and groom Shalnark’s hair. He looks up at you as you shoot him a small smile.

“You need to go to bed, Shalnark. It’s okay to take a rest sometimes you know.”

His eyes go wide for a second and he opens his mouth wide like a fish.

“It’s you…it’s actually you. I can’t… the troupe is relying on me… I need to stay awake to figure out the location… the boss is relying on… me…” Shalnark mumbles out. His voice getting quieter and quieter.

And with that Shalnark was out cold.

Well at least you figured out that he does know you from somewhere. You wonder where. Also, the boss huh? He had to do something for him?

You looked over to the computer screen and notes in front of you. No wonder he was stressed out. You would be too if your boss and all of your workplace was relying on you to figure this out.

You could…you could always help him. You check the clock behind you. It was around 2am. Even if you took a nap now it wouldn’t be for much time and you did want to quit after tonight.

Making a decision you pull a chair over and look around you. The coast was clear as no one seemed to be watching. Stretching your fingers you put them to the keyboard and activate your aura.

You didn’t use Nen often but you were a talent transmitter. Through vigorous training you had managed to turn your Nen into data and electric signals. It was useless in battle for all you could do at most was glitch your body but, then again, you were never much of a fighter either.

Glitching and hacking through vast codes on the computer you finally make it onto the secret government site of the Fushi Empire. That was a piece of cake for you. You could probably even sneak in an episode of Bokemon after all this was done before you had to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean you quit?!?”

Sighing you leaning against the counter. Tapping your fingers against the surface. “Like I said before I quit. It’s just not the right job for me.”

“You can’t! I won’t allow you, you un—“

Done with your manager's bullshit you hang up the phone and take a sip from your coffee. After a couple of more sips you were able to finish the cup. Walking around the desk you toss the cup into the trash.

Taking one last look at the place around you, you grab your bag. You would like to say you will miss the place but… you definitely won’t. This place could burn in hell for all you cared.

Wrapping your jacket tighter you step out of the building and into the cold. Wow you didn’t even realize it was still snowing from last night. It was actually nice to see snow in the city for the first time.

Your phone suddenly dings, a text from your landlord?. Oh! Someone had finally accepted your roommate's application for your flat. That’s awesome. Biting your lip, you just type back ‘yes’.

You technically should’ve looked into the document she sent along with the text which was about the roommate. But you just really need someone to split the rent with you so you honestly didn’t care who it was at this point.

“(Y/n)!”

Jumping, startled and surprised, you turn around fast at the call but are suddenly knocked over and in a snowbank. Now wide awake, you moan in discomfort as Wetness seeps into your jacket from the snow and you begin to wiggle at the coldness at your skin.

“W-What the hell?! Get off of me!” You yell out, startled and still unsure who is above you. Was this some creepy stalker? You hoped not. Wiggling more faster now, you try to get out of the snow.

You stop dead in your tracks as you hear a groan above you. Finally able to see the person, you realize it was no other than Shalnark above you. His mouth slightly open and a dark expression on his face.

What had you— oh god. You blush a crimson red. Could this get anymore embarrassing? You hadn’t realized that while you were trying to get away you hadn’t also, unintentionally, rubbed against his crotch.

Apologizing profusely, you somehow now get up and hold out a shaky hand to help him up as well. Shalnark smiled at you. Though it wasn’t like his usual smile it had an unnerving tint to it now that sent a shiver up your spine.

Startled and uneasy you decide to look away at something else. Wow did the wall get a new crack in it? Oh man that sure is interesting. Did Mrs Glain change out the lilacs again? That was nice of her—

“(Y/n)?”

You grow stiff at Shal’s voice and hesitantly meet his gaze. It still made you uneasy. Everything was the same about him yet you can’t help but feel on edge and slightly violated in his presence now. You just couldn’t figure out why.

“Y-yes?”

“I just wanna say thanks for the information you got me! Boss will sure be happy. Hmmmm….I’m not sure how you got these, you must be a really skilled hacker.”

He expressively gestures to the papers in his bag that you printed and wrote on.

“Oh yeah umm no problem.” You nonchalantly answer. Trying to ignore his hacker comment.

“I’m just wondering... how did you get into those websites (y/n)? It sure was hard for me.”

Shalnark asks and secretly shuffles a little closer to you, still an unchanging smile on his face. He was weirdly sneaky about it. Now this was just starting to get creepy. Then you suddenly realize something, did he not realize?

“A-ah I just had to find out the right codes and inputs and stuff you know?”

You start to shuffle back. You didn’t mind being asked questions or someone moving closer. It’s just… you just realized... Blushing you start to move a little faster away.

“Ah-h I really have to get home you-u know? Work just finished and stuff and I have to get rested up for my next shift. You—you know being a good employee and stuff. I’ll see you again sometimes.” Stuttering and tripping over your words you finally walk away from Shalnark. You were just glad you were out of that mess. That was so embarrassing and creepy.

Sighing, you grab your phone from your pocket and turn it on. You scroll through your apps for a little before stopping and selecting “Bokemon Go”. You needed to see if the new bokemon “Baporine” was in the area after all.

“Oh you like Bokemon Go as well. I didn’t take you as such a nerd (y/n)~”

Startled, you let out a ‘eep’ and crane your neck to see that Shalnark was literally right behind you. He literally got as close as he could without touching. It also didn’t help that he still had…

Face red again at the thought you fast walk to the bus stop. Though that didn’t work for Shalnark was on your tail the whole time, constantly asking questions.

“I was just joking (y/n)! I love that game as well.”

“Oh have you caught the new Baporine?”

“Wait, do you also know Nen? I think I see aura around you~.”

“Hahah you totally do. What category are you?”

“Do you—“

Reaching the bus you had finally had enough of his antics. Pulling him down by his collar, you glare at him.

“Why are you following me?” You whispered yelled at him. He looks confused for a second before letting out a teasing smile.

“So we are whispering now? Is this a sec—“ You cut him off.

“Answer my question.”

He opens his mouth to do so but before he can, the thing you couldn’t look at or say is, is finally said out loud. And by a young child at that.

“Mommy. Why wrong with that man’s pants? Why is there a bump in the front—“

The mother doesn’t make it better, of course, and lets out a screech in shock. Quickly shielding the child’s eyes and pulling the child away. Leaving you two alone at the bus stop.

Your face beet red and frozen in embarrassment you look at Shalnark’s face.. He looks down at his *ahem* problem and looks back at you. And he, I shit you not, looks you dead in the eye and says.

“Ah so that’s what’s wrong?” He says. Kind of amazed, yet kind of shrugging it off.

“WHAT THE HELL?!? HOW DID YOU NOT REALIZE IT BEFORE” You screech out. Totally losing your cool.

He pouts at your freak out.

“I just didn’t realize it.”

Rubbing your temples you take a deep breath and look at the most likely mid-twenties man in the eyes.

“How do you not realize you are walking around with a full on erection??”

“Well It just doesn’t usually happens. I usually don’t get excited by a girl easily. Though I do usually like to toy with the smart ones,” He suddenly looks down at your chest. His face blushing a little and a small smile spreading across his face. “It also doesn’t help that you have the perfect pair of—“

You clamp your hand over his mouth before he can finish that sentence. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking. You were honestly tired. Working two back to back shifts wasn’t easy.

“Shalnark. Please just… just go home.” You say exhausted and defeated.

You drop your hand from his mouth and he only looks at you confused.

“Hmm? But I am?”

“Hah?!?” Now angry you grab the man by his shirt. You might actually fulfill your life long dream of strangling a man today, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!?”

Shalnark smiles; an unsettling one at that and grabs his phone from his pocket. As you look at the red phone your stomach drops to the ground. Oh. That number and conversation means. Oh god.

Shalnark giggles and leans over to your ear. His warm breath against the shell causes a shiver up your spine. Taking a gulp and you hear him whisper two dreaded words.

“Hello roomie~”

You should’ve checked the document.

Bonus:

(On the bus)

“Hey (y/n)~ now that we are roommates you wouldn’t mind if we fuc—“

“Shal. Just take a cold shower”

“Huh?!? You're so mean (y/n)! You’re nothing like the girl that took care of me last night. Oh~ Mr Shalnark~ your so handsome Mr—”

“F***king hypocrite”

“Why did you hit me?! That hurt!”

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #hxh scenarios #scenarios #shalnark #shalnark x reader

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felixstarry-freckles · 3 years

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Sweaters | Lee Felix

A/N: Hello !! I wrote this little thought a while ago and i was debating on making a series or not out of it but in the end I left it like this. If you guys would like to see it as a mini series then I would gladly do it. Just not really sure at the moment thats why I ask. But I hope you enjoy this small unrequited love(?) more like extremely intrigued by a certain someone type of story.

Four years. Four years of high school with this boy. Three years since graduation. You haven't seen him since graduation.

Seven years ago. Just noticing him at school. The bright and unique sweaters he'd always wear.

Being the photography nerd you were you always took pictures of things that inspired you. You were apart of your high school's yearbook committee, you were the president, to be exact. You never really liked using your power for any personal reasons but for your senior year you went against your personal rule. You used you authority to dedicate a whole section to the boy and his friends. You did it because they who were always picked on for their expressive and unique style. The boy specifically was picked on for wearing the soft pastel colored sweaters always being called a "sissy" or slurs of different kinds but you always thought that those sweaters were what made him the most masculine. You remember the day that you passed out the yearbook to those who purchased it.

So clearly although it was seven years ago you remember it. It was the day you realized that you didn't stare at the boy for being different but because you liked him.

You remember the intense look of anticipation you gave him as he looked through the yearbook. Page 8 was the start of the collage of inspiring students that proceeded to page 12. Page 8-9 was filled with pictures of the boy and his friends.

You knew he arrived to that page because he smiled the brightest and most beautiful smile you have ever seen. A smile that left you in complete awe. You knew he would never know of the person who dedicated two whole pages to his group. As the everyone in the yearbook committee had to leave a pen name at the bottom corner of whatever page they worked on. It was to avoid claims of favoritism from students who weren't apart of yearbook. Of course you knew he was never going to find out that you dedicated that page to him and his friends. But it would be nice if they knew that it was because of them that you are living a successful job in the fashion industry breaking social norms because theses boys were never afraid.

#lee felix #stray kids imagines #stray kids felix #straykids #lee felix imagines #kpop imagines #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids

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eventidespirits · 3 years

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Nicknames: Laur, Laurie Aliases: Jonathan Legerdemain, Jean Nuit Apparent Age: “30″ True Age: 51 Gender: Cis Man Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Demiromantic Gray-Ace Birthday: January 6th Occupation: Occultist, Bookstore Owner Species: Vampire (Nightingale) Residence: The Vista Rosa neighborhood in Santa Marta, CA.

𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

Height: 5′10 Build: Average height, has a sort of stereotypical “scrawny nerd” sort of build with a soft layer of fat/soft belly and not a lot of muscular definition. He has long arms and legs in comparison to his torso which makes him look taller than he actually is. Face Shape: Somewhere between an oval and a diamond, his facial features are fine and delicate with a long straight nose. Eye Color/Shape: Vibrant, unnaturally bright ocean-blue with cat-like slitted pupils. Large but set deep within his face with heavy, tired looking lids and deep dark circles which gives him a sort of permanent “resting bitch face”. Hair Color/Style: Slate Gray. Laurent’s hair is mostly straight with a slight wave to it (2A) and usually worn tied into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. he has long, messy bangs that usually hang in his face. Skin Color/Texture: Very pale and desaturated with a distinct yellow undertone. He has soft skin but has a lot of small scars and marks on his hands from various occult work he did while he was still a mortal. Distinguishing Features: First off, Laurent is prematurely gray. He also has a number of tattoos (a tattoo of a magical circle for protection on his back, another protection sigil on his chest over the heart, has a tattoo of an open eye on the back of his neck). He also wears glasses. Posture: Very “proper” posture -- stands straight up but there’s that slight hunch to his shoulders that comes from hours bent over books and papers. He moves very purposefully and a little bit stiffly with quiet footsteps. Voice: Soft and understated, with the remnants of a Quebecois accent. Laurent rarely raises his voice and his speech is usually curt and clipped, possibly even seeming rude or sarcastic at times. Clothing Style: Lots of blacks and blues with some cream and charcoal. He tends to wear comfortable clothing that could pass for being formal in most situations -- black slacks, button-downs over v-necks, turtleneck sweaters and cardigans. A lot of his looks vaguely recall the 1980s when it comes to sweater choice. Notable Mannerisms: Scrunches his nose when he’s thinking deeply about something but otherwise seems to not have a lot of particularly unique or defining mannerisms (almost purposefully so)

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤

Physical: Lockpicking, breaking and entering Social: What Social Skills? Basic etiquette, subterfuge/lying, manipulation Talents: Calligraphy, Poetry, Prose, getting in over his head Knowledges: Greek, Latin, French, currently learning German, Masters in Psychology, Traditional Magic, Ritual Magic, Sigilcraft, Herbalism Hobbies: Reading, Writing, Gardening, Cooking Special: Basic Nightingale abilities, some natural magical talent (mostly lost after becoming a vampire), spirit sight, minor precognition

ℙ𝕤𝕪𝕔𝕙𝕖

Strengths: Clever, quick witted, tenacious, detail-oriented, good concentration, inquisitive, intuitive, dedicated, loyal, strong sense of internal morals Weaknesses: overly curious, stubborn, too smart for his own good, overly self-reflective, can be cold and emotionally distant, closed off from his emotions, rude, irritable, afraid of intimacy, standoffish, shy, just generally bad at people. Goals: To gather all the knowledge there is to be had, especially where it concerns the occult; to learn proper spontaneous magic Fears: Loss of knowledge, loss of control, true death, what lurks beneath santa marta (but not enough to stop researching it) Ideals/Morals: Laurent is willing to do almost anything to gain knowledge but there are a few things that disgust him and he finds morally abhorrent -- like hurting children or murder (notably -- he sees a difference between killing and murder but also tries to avoid killing people as a general rule unless it’s in self-defense) Guiding Philosphies: Knowledge is Power Sense of Humor: Very dry and sarcastic. He’s definitely the person to deliver a sarcastic quip with a totally straight face and it leaves people wondering if he even has a sense of humor. Overall Personality: Laurent is kind of a prickly bastard. He’s introverted and introspective and has very little interest in being around or talking to people. He can pretend to be polite very well (and expects others to behave in a similar way). He prefers things to be well-structured and mostly predictable, he has trouble dealing with sudden intense changes. He seems very distant and cold to most people -- utterly focused on his work over anything else.

𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖

Best Memory: Worst Memory: Biggest Accomplishment: Prized Possessions: Favorite Colors: Favorite Foods: Favorite Scents: Favorite Songs: Can't Leave Home Without:

ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪

Birthplace: Suburbs of Montreal, Quebec Childhood: Growing up, Laurent’s parents were usually very busy, both having careers that demanded a lot of their attention. He and Louis were often left to sort of fend for themselves (classic latch-key kids). Being the more shy of the twins, Laurent often relied on Louis to make friends -- having few friends that he could consider his specifically. At around the age of 11, while playing at his neighbor’s house after school with Louis, their friend Alex and his younger sister Madeline, the four of them found a oujia board and did what any group of pre-teens would do: they turned out the lights and used it. Unfortunately for the twins, the house was old and the board itself connected to a rather angry spirit that would attach itself to Louis and scare the hell out of the other three children. This is what would start Laurent’s interest in the occult but it was what would happen the next summer that would cement it as an obsession... While playing in a local park, something that Laurent could neither identify or describe beyond “a writhing mass of eyes, grasping tendrils and eyes” would pluck Alex from the face of existence -- not only taking the 12 year old but erasing any sign that he had ever existed to begin with from the minds of everyone but Laurent.

Adolescence: At thirteen, Laurent’s family moved to Santa Marta, California. Highschool was difficult for Laurent, who had started to go prematurely gray by the time he was 14 and was shy and bookish. He had to deal with a lot of bullying and it cemented his irritability.

He did, however, thanks to the unique nature of Santa Marta (attracting the supernatural) manage to make friends with a Witch by the name of Martin. They’d also date for about a year in secret before both decided that it just wasn’t working. However, the pair of them were obsessed with the occult and the presence of the “Old Gods” which were present in constant whispers in Santa Marta. This is where Laurent got into most of the trouble he would as a teenager -- breaking into abandoned buildings looking for ghosts and signs of the supernatural as well as getting 100% illegal tattoos in dangerous settings (most notably, he had his protection sigil done by Martin in his basement along with the eye on the back of his neck).

Somehow, probably just due to luck, Laurent never actually got in legal trouble for any of the crazy shit he did as a teen but that luck wouldn’t last.

Adulthood: In his desperate search for occult knowledge, Laurent would end up crossing paths with a woman named Claudine -- a Nightingale who was also an accomplished occultist and a powerful witch in her own right. He would end up stealing several of her important research journals and end up becoming her “assistant” at the age of twenty-one (she normally would’ve killed him for it but was impressed by his dedication and natural skill). She would keep him on as an assistant, teaching him about the occult and preparing him for life in the Nightingale Court before finally turning him in 2000.

Recent: In 2010, Claudine would disappear suddenly -- leaving behind only a note about her own research into the “thing that lurks beneath the streets of this blighted metropolis” and pointing Laurent in a similar direction. During his training with Claudine, Laurent would run into mentions of the “Myriad Eyes” multiple times, especially when researching the occult history of Santa Marta... A phrase that he quickly came to associate with the thing that had taken his childhood friend.

Currently, he’s running a bookstore in Vista Rosa called “Eigengrau Books” and living in an apartment located above the store.

ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕤

Family: Jean DeFantome (Father; deceased), Emily DeFantome (Mother), Louis DeFantome (twin brother; estranged) Lovers: Martin Schwartz (former), Camellia O’Friel (current) Friends: Isaac Nerezza (works at his bookstore), Claudine Legerdemain (Missing) Enemies: ??? Other: ???

ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕤

Income: Middle-class Residences: A two bedroom apartment above his bookstore. Vehicles: Black 2010 Ford Fiesta Van

#Laurent DeFantome #About: Laurent #ooc

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moonah-rose · 4 years

Text

Two Pairs of Glasses and a Bottle of Red

Chidi goes to say thank you to Michael for being there for Eleanor.

“Hey…Did I go back in time?”

It probably seems that way, Michael smirks, considering the multiple boxes containing Hawaiian pizza that have been stacked up around his new office.

“Welcoming present from Shawn and Vicky, I reckon.” He says to Chidi, waving a few of them away to allow him entry, the Professor having to slide around them in order to reach the chair in front of Michael’s desk.

His request for a perfect replica of his previous office had otherwise been met to the last detail. It had simply come with the extra bonus of seventy boxes of pizza only a mad man would eat.

He can’t be too annoyed. As demonic hazing attempts go, this one seems rather light-hearted. Almost nostalgic. Perhaps he really was getting the chance to repair some burned bridges with his former colleagues. It wasn’t something that ever appealed to him before but is oddly satisfying now.

“How does it feel to be back?” asks his friend.

Michael shrugs, “Weird. Kinda miss my second neighbourhood already. I know it wasn’t around as long as my first one but it felt like part of the same one, y’know? It’s good to know it’s still there this time. I wish you had all agreed stay there rather than coming here with me.”

Even with Shawn’s guarantee of the humans protection that binds the rest of the demon, Michael can’t help but be weary. He knows there’s a lot of employees unhappy with the shake-up, more than half who are perfectly happy torturing humans as their job, whether they deserve it or not. They would be more than ready to take their work frustrations out on the four people who are the reason for this shake up, the first one in fifty thousand years. Even Janet stands the risk of being marbleized again if she lets her guard down, it wouldn’t be the first time.

He wishes they had agreed to stay tucked safe back at the Good Place 2.0. But the little cockroaches had been stubborn as ever.

“Are you kidding? As if we’d let you have all the fun sorting out dimension of frustrated demons on our own.” Chidi smiles.

“I never thought I’d see you describe having to deal with a bunch of demons as fun.”

Another way of saying that, of all the infinite wonders of the Universe he’s experienced, he never thought he’d get to see Chidi be cool.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still wanna scream like a little girl when one of the lava monsters passes me. But then it says hi and I remember it’s just Todd.”

Good to know confident Chidi can still be scared when Michael feels an old desire. He’ll remember that.

Even he feels the need to relive old habits at times. In a safe, harmless, controlled way of course.

“Did you need me to help with anything, pal?” He asks, “I thought you and Eleanor would be getting settled into your new apartment? They cleaned out the rat-snakes, right?”

Not the best living quarters but he tried to find the comfiest temporary homes for all of them, not able to design and build them their own places as before in this area where he has no control as an Architect. He at least managed to get Tahani a penthouse suite, even if it is at the top of a volcano.

“You didn’t tell us those were the previous occupants, they had to come back to collect some stuff they left. But it’s all good, I left Eleanor to ‘wear in the new couch and test drive the TV’ as she put it.”

Michael smiles to himself. After the year she’s had, she more than deserves to put her feet up. He doesn’t tell Chidi how little she slept while he went away. Not that she needed it, or that Michael didn’t try to encourage it, but he reckons she could now sleep for a week if she wanted.

“Actually…Eleanor is kinda why I’m here.” Chidi admits, Michael noticing the serious change in his tone.

“Oh. Did you wanna sit down?” He gestures to the chair, waving his hand again to clear it of more of the boxes.

Chidi shakes his head, hands in his pockets.

“No thanks, I’m gonna need to stand.”

“Why’s that?” Michael frowns.

“Because there’s a chance I might hug you and this will make it less awkward.”

Michael goes still, not sure how to respond to that. There’s always been an unspoken physical distance between him and the Professor, more so than with any of the other humans. He’d had the most hugs with Eleanor, followed by Jason’s which always left him smelling jalapenos, and a few recent ones with Tahani (which, he couldn’t deny, were simply amazing, how on Earth could he parents not adore her?!). The most contact he’d had with Chidi was a fist bump on the few times they saw eye-to-eye.

Not that Michael can blame the guy for wanting to keep a safe distance, given how he used to be the main target of Michael’s more jerky conduct in the past. He’s probably only now stopped expecting him to splatter him with fake blood or a shower of needles.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

“…Thank me? For what exactly?” The three hundred years of torture that he’d recently been accessed to?

“For…everything, man.” Chidi says, face lighting up with gratitude; “For taking my classes seriously…eventually. For saving us, even when it cost you literally everything you had been working for until then…Sacrificing yourself for us, bringing us back from the dead, saving us, donating all that money to make sure we were okay and then helping to save, not only us, but humanity itself, I mean…You really weren’t expecting a few thank yous thrown your way?”

Michael looks away, feeling the heat rise beneath the cheeks of his skin suit. He didn’t do any of it expecting a thank you and, up until now, he hadn’t really received any. A few unspoken, grateful smiles from the others, a pleasant stroke of his arm, but never the two words said aloud.

“I’d do it all over again.” He says, earnestly, still not believing it was enough to undo the centuries of psychological harm he’d inflicted on them to begin with.

“I believe you. I mean, I’ll be honest, when you first started taking my classes, there was a point I thought you were beyond help but…I can tell you with the utmost sincerity…I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of one of my students.”

Oh, fork, the pesky nerd is going to bring him to tears.

Michael sniffs; “Yeah, well…I had an amazing teacher. You only have yourself to thank. And Eleanor, obviously…She’s the one who got me to take all your ethical nonsense seriously.”

If not for her, he’d still be sat at his desk in his old office with his feet up, refusing to budge, refusing to be the bigger not-man and apologize and admit he needs help. Shawn might jokingly call him a demon daddy but it was the two of them together who got him to grow up.

Chidi gives a wistful smile; “Yeah…Eleanor is the answer. That’s clearer to me than ever.”

Damn straight.

“Thank you for looking after her for me this year.”

Those words make something buckle deep within Michael. His thumb starts to itch at his side.

“You should know her well enough by now to know she usually has to be the one looking after me.” He tries to laugh it off but there’s an uncomfortable stinging in his chest.

What is wrong with him?

“We both know she’s not invulnerable as she likes to pretend. Leaving her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do…but I had no choice.”

Yes, you did, Michael stops himself from saying, the ethical voice in his chastising his own.

“I know.” Is what he says instead.

He respects the guy for not letting himself be a potential risk to the experiment and everyone’s eternal safety. He’s been there himself.

“I remember seeing you two together, when I was ‘away’ all that time.” He says, again surprising Michael with the brief use of air quotes – who is this guy? “You looked like you had fun together, ruling that fake Heaven. You were always smiling together. Right up until the end, I mean, that evil laugh the two of you did....I know she enjoyed that, even if it was terrifying for me at the time. I’m glad to know she was okay…And I think a lot of that is down to you.”

He rubs the back of his neck, trying not to remember the feel of her hips in his hands when he’d grabbed her waist during their Hail Mary; “Or maybe Eleanor is just that strong-willed…”

“That too but…C’mon, man, I know you care about her as much as I do.”

More than the dweeb could ever know, Michael thinks to himself. He never intended to play favorites and he appreciates all of them in their own special way; Tahani’s grace, Jason’s optimism, Chidi’s kindness as much as his intellect…But Eleanor…Eleanor was as much like himself as he could ever hope to meet and yet, somehow, a thousand times better. Braver, wiser, sharper…Everything he could only dream of being.

“I’m just relieved to know that, if I have to go away again, she’ll always have you there.” Chidi says, softly.

That buckling sensation inside Michael finally snaps.

He clenches his jaw.

“No.”

Chidi blinks; “Sorry?”

“I said no.” The voice of his long-buried demon husk rears its head; “You’re not to go away again, do you hear? You’re not allowed to…leave her again.”

“I…”

The Professor inches back a bit as Michael makes a move forward, the desk his only protection from the demon grabbing him by his sweater-vest.

“You think she was all smiles and laughter during the past year?” He growls, “Let me tell you something, buddy, those were just glimpses of your girlfriend you saw there as you passed us on the street or at all those events! You didn’t have to stay up with her all those nights she cried over how much she missed you or how worried she was that having to put you with Simone would change your feelings for her, all because you were too much of a dummy to help that woman out without believing she was your soul mate!”

He sees the other man recoil at that, wincing with shame. Michael suffers the recoil, feeling the twist in his gut, but now that the bottle cap on his emotions has been popped, he has a years worth of anger and resentment to spill.

“Did my little reload of all your memories happen to miss out that time you saw her break down in tears because you told her you felt like you were being punished?! Because I’d convinced her you needed to be tortured so you would stop flitting around like you were on vacation and actually lend a hand to help that deckwad Brent, but she went too far, because she was rightly pissed at you for leaving and ended up hating herself for it! And yeah, I admit, I was pissed at you too for breaking her heart when I’d trusted you, of all people, to take care of it!”

He can see Chidi’s shoulders hunched now, a grimace appearing on his face as a stomach-ache brews within him. Good. He’s not immune to those. They’re just no longer rendering him immobile with pain.

“The last thing I wanted to do was hurt…”

“Then you should’ve thought about that before you left! You should have gotten over your stupid anxiety about Simone before considering leaving her! What on Earth is wrong with you, man?! How could you be so lucky to fall in love with Eleanor Shellstrop and be blessed to have her love you back, and then agree to forget her?! After everything she’s been through, how could you do that to her?! How could you think it was okay to leave her with me as a piss poor substitute and then have the gaul to waltz back in here after a year and say ‘thanks for looking after her’?! You don’t deserve her!”

He regrets those last four words before they’ve passed his lips.

By the time the red mist has parted from his eyes, he sees the tears in Chidi’s eyes as they lock across the desk. Michael’s throat goes dry. He takes a step back back, only noticing how wet his own eyes are when he finally blinks. Oh shit. How could he say that? As if thinking it had been bad…Had been wrong enough, but to finally…

“Chidi. I am…Oh, I am so, so sorry…” He breathes.

The other man doesn’t respond. He doesn’t deny the accusations, which somehow makes it worse.

The most agonising of silences hangs between them before they seem to move at the exact same moment. The both of them removing their glasses at the same time to give them a wipe, Michael using his handkerchief while Chidi uses his sleeve.

“Damn, these things steam up quick, huh…” Chidi says, awkwardly, his voice broken.

Michael gives a weak smile; “I don’t even need mine, they’re just for aesthetic…Speaking of which, if you ever want me to fix that astigmatism, just say, you shouldn’t really have it dead.”

“No, no, it’s fine…Like you said, it’s part of the look.”

Michael lets out a sigh, partly relieved to get those words out, awful as they are. He’s eternally grateful that the other man didn’t storm out of the room and slam the door. He wouldn’t have blamed him. It hurt enough that he no longer had Eleanor at his side, his partner in crime and saving the Universe, her constant shining spirit and quick-wit lighting up the room. It hurt knowing that her time and companionship had been prioritised to someone more worthy of her. He’d tried so hard to ignore the ache of her missing presence, when it had only been a couple of days since the experiment ended. He should have remembered that burying his sadness only made it worse in the long run. One of her first lessons and he’d forgot.

He was the one who didn’t deserve her. How dare he ever say that Chidi was the one to blame in all of this, after everything the man had given up, had missed out on?

With another wave of his hand, Michael summons a bottle of merlot, one of Chidi’s favorite vintages, along with a couple of glasses. His friend sniffs again, giving a grateful smile. They’re both in need of a drink.

They each take a glass and a seat at either edge of the desk, their backs to each other.

Michael takes a sip and then looks down at the glass in his lap.

“What’s it like?” He dares to ask, after a while, “….Being with her?”

There’s a pause behind him.

“…You’re asking me what love feels like?”

He shakes his head; “I know what being in love feels like.” That might say more than enough, “…I’m asking how it feels to have her love you back.”

Michael has been content on the scraps of affection he gets, like a dog sitting at his master’s table at dinner, those smiles and jokes and fleeting hugs more than enough to keep him grateful and satisfied with the place he’s honoured to take in Eleanor’s heart. But he’s not entirely reformed, there’s still a tiny wicked side that dares to be greedy, that dares to…imagine, what it would be like to be truly hers. Surely, just once, he can be allowed to live vicariously.

Once again, he’s amazed that Chidi doesn’t chew him out, smash him over the head with the wine bottle and leave. Instead he hears the Professor take another sip.

“How do I describe it? I mean…I’ve had girlfriends before, as you know, but I never…I was in never truly in love before her.” He explains, heavily; “When I’m with her, when she’s with me…It’s like all those difficult questions and puzzles of the Universe suddenly fit. Or what remains unsolved fades into the background and…I stop worrying about it all. Because all I need to know, when she’s there…is that she’s there. She looks at me and, wherever we are in these insane dimensions we keep falling through, from Heaven to Hell, to that weird pancake nightmare…So long as she’s with me…I belong. I’m home.”

Michael smiles, moving his hand up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. He always assumed it would feel something like that, based on the fleeting sense of peace he found in those moments with Eleanor. He’d never felt at home in Hell, with his fellow demons. He already knew he would never be accepted or belong with those dorky angels on the other side. The closest he had ever come to feeling at home was on Earth and that was also off the table. He’d spent his whole existence as an ugly duckling searching for swans that were probably long extinct.

But he knew what being part of a home…a family, felt like, a little. Especially during the past year, when they were a team, there were times he could almost convince himself that where he was always meant to be was at her side. Her equal. Two sides of the same coin. But every time that hope of feeling complete at last would appear, it would be cruelly snatched away, every time that grief of missing her true love appeared on her face. And he would be lost again.

“You’re a lucky man, Chidi.” He tells his friend, truly.

He hears him shuffle to look around behind him; “You know she loves you too? Right?”

He shrugs; “Yeah, sure…”

“C’mon, Michael. I’ve seen the two of you together, since you joined up with us.” Chidi tries, reaching to touch his elbow; “You’re like…a part of her. She needs you as much as me.”

He wishes there was truth to that.

“Tell me something, man,” He asks, looking down at the fingers on his arm; “How many tears did Eleanor shed over me after I gave her my pin and sent her through the portal after you guys?”

Chidi slowly brings his hand back to his lap.

“I…Uhm…” he frowns; “Well, we didn’t really have time for that…She wasn’t exactly skipping about it-.”

“Did she mention me once again before me and Janet turned up?”

The other man doesn’t respond.

“Thought not.” Michael refills his glass; “And rightly so, you guys had way more important things at hand. But, let’s be honest, if it had been you who was left behind, she would have screamed at that Judge to get you to come join her, or fought her way back through Hell to get to you…It’s always been you, Chidi, it always will. In every reboot, lovers or not, you were the missing piece she sought out. I’m grateful to be her friend but let’s not pretend we’re on equal footing. It’s not fair on either of us.”

“I think you doing yourself a disservice-.”

“Has she told you about Bad Janet yet?” Michael cuts in again; “That was a fun night. I mean it sucked, it was one of the worst of the year, but it was…interesting, if nothing else. We had no idea what was sabotaging the experiment and, to cut a long story short, the suspicion fell on me being the spanner in the works. The only thing I could do to restore Eleanor’s trust in me was offer to blow myself up.”

“WHAT?!” Chidi exclaims, nearly spilling his wine.

“Oh, you wait till I get to the part where Jason figures it out and saves the day!”

“Okay, now I know you’re lying.”

They manage to share another brief laugh. It’s a lot easier to find it funny now, all these months on, despite it being the night Michael’s heart was shattered and, despite everything good that came after, created a crack that was still waiting to be repaired. Possibly never.

“Point is…She barely said a word against me taking myself out. But you? I mean, you had to convince her just to forget her for a year and look what it did to her.” Michael says, “I could vanish from her life tomorrow and, sure, she’d be bummed…but if it was you? Even in death, she wouldn’t survive that. That’s how much you mean to her. Don’t ever take it for granted.”

Michael knows he won’t. He just needed to give him that kick in the ash to be certain he knew how serious this was. For both of them.

“I’m sorry.” The professor whispers.

“What for?” Michael asks, “You did the one thing I never could. You made the woman we both love happy. I’m just glad I get to share in that, even if I’m not the cause.”

He hears Chidi put down his glass on the desk and stand up. Michael takes it as his cue to get on his feet as well, turning to face the other man.

“I’d quite like to give you that hug now, if that’s all right.” He says.

Michael rolls his eyes, as if inconvenienced.

“I suppose, if you must.”

Chidi takes the first step to bridge the gap between them, holding his arms out as Michael mirrors his movements and they share their first embrace. He hopes it’s one of many to come.

He can’t help but be surprised, as ever, by the tightness of the other man’s hold. It was always easy to forget how strong he was underneath that dorky outfit, those jacked arms and pecks strangely reassuring to the touch. He can understand the appeal for Eleanor. It seemed more forgivable now for her to constantly tease him of his own physical shortcoming compared to the man she loved.

“I hope you know how much you mean to all of us. Not just Eleanor.” The Professor tells him, as sternly as he used to lecture him in the past.

He gives the guy’s shoulders a pat.

“I do, buddy.”

Chidi is the first to move back, his hands still firm on Michael’s arms as he regards him, intently.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” He asks, “You never told her?”

Michael shakes his head, heavy with regret he can’t begin to describe.

“I was going to. When Janet saved me from Shawn, as we were going through the portal, I told myself…” He takes a breath, “I told myself that I’d been given a second chance and that, next time I saw her, I’d tell her. I’d tell her how I felt and I’d ask if she felt the same and…Take it from there.”

“What happened to that plan?”

Michael can’t help but laugh. It’s amazing what an idiot the genius can be at times.

“You kissed her first, dummy.”

And when he saw the smile on her face...how he could ever dare to come between anything that made her that happy again?

The door opens and Eleanor strides in, a bounce in her step that hasn’t been there for almost thirteen months.

Even with the office in a new location, she’s able to treat it as if it’s Michael’s usual home, free for her to walk in and own when she pleases. The demon behind the desk who quickly steps back doesn’t complain, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Well, don’t you two look all cosy!” She says, brightly; “You guys having a pizza party without me?”

Her arms immediately wrap around Chidi’s neck and he greets her with a kiss on the lips.

“Ham and pineapple, babe,” He doesn’t tell her she missed out on the wine, that can be their little secret; “But if you fancy pizza for dinner, Todd recommended a place on the corner of our street?”

“Oh yeah, they do a great meat feast…I mean, some of the salami used to be sliced humans but I’m pretty sure Shawn is recalling all of those.” Michael says, off-hand.

Eleanor barely seems to hear his commentary.

Her eyes are focused purely on the man she’s been pining for all these months, hands hooked behind his neck, humming as she presses her nose against his. Michael looks away, knowing he’s no more than a blurry shape in the corner of her eye now.

“Whatever, I’m starving…You’ve kept me waiting long enough, dude, time to fill me up.” She says to Chidi, her voice low but not quite subtle; “And we can food too, I guess.”

“Eleanor!” Her boyfriend blushes on behalf of the third wheel having to listen in.

“Oh, it’s just Michael, he knows what filth to expect from me, right bud?” She says aloud without looking at him again, merely expecting him to be there.

Would it even matter how he responded?

Would she hear him if he confessed, out loud, how he wished it was his chest that she was leaning against, his shoulders she was hanging from, her lips against his? Would she react with anything other than laughter if he told her about what he was planning to do at the Judge’s chambers all those years ago?

“Our love is stronger than anything you can throw at us.”

Even his own, he humbly accepts.

“Michael, do you wanna join us for dinner?” Chidi asks.

Before the demon can respond, Eleanor does it for him.

“Oh I’m sure Michael wants a break after having to put up with me for a year, right dude?” Eleanor gives him her first direct look since she entered, followed by a wink.

Of course. He wasn’t going to intrude anyway, but he’s nothing if not a good wingmon.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve had more than enough pizza for one day….You guys should catch up. You’ve only got eternity together.” He smiles.

Eleanor mouths a ‘thank you’ before leaning back up to kiss Chidi’s bottom lip again.

Anytime… He sighs and looks away, Anytime, I’m yours.

Every kiss he watches them share is both parts pleasure and pain. Obviously, he’ll take the truth with him to retirement or whatever his end will be. No way would he risk tarnishing what they have. He’s happy to remain in the shadows, grateful to be allowed to watch the light shine nearby, even if it’s forever beyond his touch, beyond the cruel hope of getting to feel that warmth on the skin of a body that isn’t truly his.

“Well…if you horny mammals don’t mind, some of us have some work to do.” He puts on the smug superior being mask again, “And you’re no longer my boss, Shellstrop, so I’m gonna take this opportunity to tell you to get out.”

“What d’you say to me?” She throws him a glare.

Fuck. Nope. Damn it, she’s still in charge.

“I mean…Have a good time at dinner.”

She giggles, knowing full well the power she wields over the two men in the room.

“That’s better.” She looks back up at Chidi, eyes shining with a joy they’ve not possessed in far too longer; “Let’s go, my new confident, sexy nerd.”

“Do you still have to call me a nerd?”

“Take the damn compliments.” She tugs on his hand, pulling him out of the room with her.

Michael puts the wine away.

“I’ll see you guy later…” He wishes, as casually as he can.

“Yeah, see you, bud.” Eleanor throws back, her mind clearly on more important things, with barely enough room left in her horny, lovesick brain to pay him notice anymore.

Chidi, however, meets his eyes, almost apologetic again, on her behalf.

“Don’t be a stranger, Michael.” He tells him, almost as an order.

The demon nods. No, sir.

“You know where to find me.” Always right there, for all of them.

Despite the hallow ache in his hearts, despite knowing that spark, that unbeatable connection he shared with the woman he loves, is now gone, that he’ll always be looking in from the outside, left out with his memories of what they could have been…He keeps Chidi’s words in his head. It might be the end of whatever beautiful mess he had with one of his humans, but perhaps it’s also the start of a friendship he didn’t realise how badly he needed with another.

#this was angstier when i first wrote it #so i maybe i feel better #yay #chidi x michael brotp #eleanor x chidi #michael x eleanor #hellstrop #cheleanor #tgp fanfic #unrequited love #friendship

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mz-elysium · 4 years

Text

City of Fallen Angels • POV Character Intros

[image description: four bubbles on a navy blue background; first bubble is a pair of clasped hands; second bubble is a man’s face, showing dark hair and a blue eye in shadow; third bubble is the name Matthew Monroe above the symbol of Clan Ventrue, a crossed sword and scepter; the fourth bubble is a broken and tarnished silver crown (end description)]

MATTHEW MONROE // 158 • 9th Gen VENTRUE

↳ THE CAPTAIN

embraced › December 31, 1873 | San Francisco

sire › Alastair Fowler (d.1944)

appearance › solemn long face, heavy and sharp blue eyes, dark hair; ordinary to athletic build; designer jeans, fitted suit jacket, dress shirt

traits › relentless, honourable, crafty, stoic, power-hungry

Among the Anarchs, Monroe is an alien breed. Clever with an iron code of honour, only his clan’s baggage prevent him from ruling the city. Even so, he attracts fellow outsiders as allies and his ability to play political games. He wears power well, though tends towards ruthless with his enemies, leaving his young adopted childer and his once-ghoul Hawthorne to act as his dwindling conscience.

TROPES

friends-to-enemies, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, manipulative bastard, anti-hero, don’t make him angry

FACTS

adores music, owning a nightclub/record label and produces music, as his one and only concession to “fun”

can play chess well, like all Ventrue, but hates the game

spent his human years in the military

[image description: four bubbles on a crimson background; first bubble is a Black woman touching a classical sculpture; second bubble is a Black woman with dark skin, curly black hair, and a brilliant smile; third bubble is the name Zari Adeyemi above the symbol of Clan Toreador, a thorned rose; the fourth bubble is a hand of poker cards, the King of Spades highlighted (end description)]

ZARI ADEYEMI // 58 • 12th Gen TOREADOR

↳ THE BLACK ROSE

embraced › March 13, 1973 | Santa Monica, Los Angeles

sire › Toby Amble (d.1973) | foster sire › Ashley Swan

appearance › round wide face, bouncing shiny black curls; very tall and slender; chunky off-the-shoulder sweaters, pre-ripped jeans, high priced sneakers

traits › avoidance, emotionally closed, decadent, witty, intelligent, resourceful

Zari learned under Ashley Swan to become indispensable to protect herself. At this, none would argue her success. Despite her youth, she has become a first-rate vampire and invaluable with her zine. Her work has always been a solace during strife, a distraction and oasis. Unable to face emotional turmoil, she runs — but she finds she is always there, waiting for her.

TROPES

secret admirer, deep cover agent, second love, lovable alpha bitch

FACTS

has two children, Aisha and Noel, who were 6 and 3 when she was turned

runs an indie zine called The Fifth Estate, one of the most popular newspapers

has a secret passion for gardening

[image description: four bubbles on a dusky purple background; first bubble is a woman’s mouth covered with blood; second bubble is the ocean shore at night; third bubble is the name Charlie Bradley above the symbol of Clan Malkavian, a broken mirror; the fourth bubble is layers of a denim jacket, flannel, and white t-shirt (end description)]

CHARLIE BRADLEY // 20 • 12th Gen MALKAVIAN

↳ THE MOONCHILDE

embraced › October 2, 2003 | Griffith Park, Los Angeles

sire › Rhys Wilson

appearance › frizzy-curly brown hair, haunted hazel eyes; skinny build; denim jacket covered with pins and buttons, flannel, holey t-shirts, jeans, sneakers

traits › enduring, honest, impulsive, empathetic

Monroe’s most recent charge, she struggles with her newfound life. She died a virgin. Gradually, she finds a way to feed, to make peace with herself and her sire, and she learns to live. The Cobweb, a vampiric psychosis, plagues her every night with hallucinations — both as prophecy and terrifying nonsense. As a new adult, Charlie struggles to define herself and find a place in a world that is suddenly a lot darker and more terrifying than she first thought.

TROPES

lesbian jock, first kiss, stages of monster grief, nerd herd, reluctant psychotic

FACTS

wanted to be a journalist, telling others’ stories

used to surf, swim, camp, and hike — and still does… at night

still waiting to turn into a bat

[image description: four bubbles on a green background; first bubble is a a man in a leather jacket hugged from behind by another man; second bubble is an Asian man with shaggy long hair; third bubble is the name Jack Shen above the symbol of Clan Gangrel, a howling wolf; the fourth bubble is a human hand scratching through floorboards like claws (end description)]

JACK SHEN // 73 • 11th Gen GANGREL

↳ THE LONE WOLF

embraced › July 13, 1955 | Downtown, Los Angeles

sire › Skelter

appearance › laughing dark eyes, shaggy black mullet; dirty blue jeans, a black leather jacket found in a thrift store decades ago

traits › determinedly cheerful, romantic, simple, insightful

Jack doesn’t know much, but he knows what he wants and what he won’t stand for. That’s always been enough. He’s left behind friends, gangs, mentors, and every time treasures what time they’ve been able to have. Life is all about friends: making them, keeping them, having their backs and letting them have yours. An interest in magic and keeping his longtime lover and human mage Ryuko from accidentally killing himself has proved a fulltime job.

TROPES

like an old married couple, low intelligence/max wisdom, always lawful good, beware the nice one

FACTS

turns into a bat and wolf, as well as a crow and black California cougar (ie. puma)

can speak three languages (Cantonese, English, Japanese) and read five (French, Latin)

uses Animalism to help volunteer at an animal shelter

Thanks to @wordsofpaintandsmoke for inspiring me with her post format.

[image description: a photoshopped header including a weathered angel statue on the right and a network of shimmering red lines that might be a city roads on the left. Titled “The City of Fallen Angels by Elysium” in gold. Additional red letters say, “Check my pinned post for more.” (end description)]

#writeblr #wip intro #writers of tumblr #vtm oc #oc intro #wip: city of fallen angels

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anonthenullifier · 4 years

Note

You think Tommy & Billy occasionally have to hear their parents get referenced or discussed in classes or school hallways?

I am so so sorry this took a long time. I hope you enjoy it!

The echoes of the bell are still bouncing through the halls and the room is still teacherless. There are signs that Mr. Byrne, their physics teacher, is around – a coffee cup sitting on top of a pile of their ungraded papers (which is fine by Tommy, he’s tempted to just go knock the mug over and get everyone As) and also the word DENSITY scrawled on the board. “What is it - 3 minutes and we get to leave?”

“Fifteen,” Billy doesn’t even turn to acknowledge his twin, too focused on organizing his notes, “pretty sure that’s only for college and also not sure it’s even a real rule.”

Apparently today his brother is in one of his serious, academically focused moods. “No one asked you, nerd.”

Now Tommy’s earned a steely stare, “You did.”

“Whatever.” Fifteen minutes seems excessive anyway, if Tommy is going to lead a revolt to not have class, he’d rather only wait five minutes, max. Given the make-up of their classmates, he’s reasonably confident he could get at least three-fourths of the back two rows on his side. Definitely not going to garner any sort of sympathy or fealty from the front rows, where they sit, because Billy says he hears better up here. Tommy only sits with him because they are near the door for an easy escape. “Do you think he’s dressing up again?”

Billy writes Density at the top of a new page before looking at Tommy with disdain finally aimed at someone other than him. “God, I hope not.”

“Who do you think it’ll be this time?”

“Probably Carol.” Tommy snorts and then gags at the mental image, also a sliver proud of Billy’s emotionless delivery. You see, Mr. Byrne is one of those…”cool” teachers, self-described, not student labeled like their kickass literature teacher next period. He’s “up” on memes, pop culture, and slang, though usually only on an academic surface level, the way old people try desperately to relate to the “youths” of the time. Why he tries, Tommy doesn’t know, the man has to be at least in his mid-thirties.* His choice of cultural relevance this semester? Superheroes. It’s awful, every week they have to watch him fanboy about someone else they know. It’s bad enough being the children of Avengers and dealing with other students who either have unoriginal questions (“Why do Hulk’s pants not rip apart?”), want autographs (particularly from Tony), want to prove they can win a fight without super powers (they can’t and Tommy’s detentions prove this), or, his favorite is when they ask sexually explicit things about his parents. That is a topic he never ever ever ever wants to think about ever again.

Tommy checks the clock – four minutes. One more and then Živjela revolucija!**

“Good morning class!” Dammit. “Today we will be…,” Mr. Byrne’s entrance is drowned out by sniggering, everyone murmuring around them and Tommy swears he can feel at least fifteen people looking at him.

“Oh no.” It’s Billy’s voice that worries him the most.

Tommy finally looks up,”Oh fuck no.”

“That’s right,” it was bound to happen, they should have seen this coming, should have dropped this class when the whole superhero examples and costumes started. But they didn’t, they had just a bit too much faith in humanity. “Today we will be learning about density from the expert himself,” Mr. Byrne, face painted a too bright red and a plastic gem that he probably stole from a troll’s stomach stuck to his forehead, tries to swipe his Halloween costume store quality cape dramatically, “The Vision.”

A swift kick to the left gets Billy to tear his eyes away from the abomination at the front of the room, “Fuck this shit, I’m out.”

Except a thin blue strand traps Tommy in his seat,, “It’s one day,” Billy’s mouth doesn’t move but Tommy can hear his damn placating voice in his head, “we need this class to graduate and you can’t go to the principal again, so just stay and suffer.” The last part is almost gleeful.

“Nope, I’ll just get a G.E.D.” Tommy throws his brother and teacher the middle finger as he vibrates his molecules and phases the hell away.

Dad’s face is not pleased and mom’s eyes are glowing. “I swear this one is justified.”

“Yes,” his dad’s voice matches the tone he’s used on villains begging for freedom, who try to explain that the death ray was just meant to exterminate the rats in the city not, you know, the group of people tied up, “I am certain your detention will be justified this time.”

Well, he’s a lost cause, so Tommy shifts to the more rebellious parent, “Mom, I promise, that man is a lunatic and I had no choice but to skip.”

The Scarlet Witch, feared and revered for her reality warping, is about to tear a hole in reality and kick him out of this existence. “I’m sure.”

Jody, the secretary, in all her villainess cardigan wearing glory shushes them sternly, “You know the rules.” The reprimand is replaced by a mannequin-esque smile, “The teacher is on his way and then Dr. Bennett will sort this all out.”

Five minutes of agonizing silence pass, dad on one side in his unassuming and gaudy sweater vest and mom on the other, flicking arcs of scarlet between her fingers, before an out-of-breath Mr. Byrne arrives. He’s changed, now in khakis and a polo and face clean other than a slight tinge of red that looks like a sunburn. The conniving bastard. “The Vis-, I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff, what a pleasure to meet you.”

Mom provides a taut, yet polite smile, “It’s too bad we didn’t meet under better circumstances.”

“I agree,” Mr. Byrne’s voice conveys the same feeling that a patronizingly placed hand on the shoulder would, “Tommy is such a bright boy.” The if only is left silent, thankfully, a phrase he is so sick of hearing.

This is all bullshit. Mr. Byrne knows exactly why Tommy left and yet, as the way it usually goes, the adults will all believe the adult. Actually, as it usually goes, he’s going to be left out here and not be allowed to speak his piece.

The door to the principal’s office opens with a, “Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff, Mr. Byrne, please come inside.”

His fate is sealed now, at least one more detention and maybe, if he’s lucky, an expulsion, though honestly that wouldn’t be luck because then he’d probably be forced to do some community service thing or, worse, have dad homeschool him. But then, like an Avenger that’s been gone for a way too damn long time during the battle, salvation comes in the form of Billy rushing through a portal in the office wall. “Wait, I have evidence!”

“William,” the principal’s voice is almost the same cadence as dad’s when he’s disappointed, “this is unprecedented.”

Billy is way better at playing along with superiors, his body folding in just enough to show he is ashamed at the breach of protocol, but he remains steadfast against the admonishment. “I know Dr. Bennett, but I have pictures of what happened in class today.”

Curiosity is the prime emotion in the office, but it is not the loudest, that would be the absolute blissful terror draining the last of the color from Mr. Byrne’s face. “Let us see it.” Billy hands his phone over to the Principal who squints with a “Huh,” and then hands the phone to mom who immediately starts laughing while dad, well, it’s hard to read his reaction, but Tommy knows that anytime he stands that still and that impassive it means he has come across something so horrendous, so lacking in social respectability that he is doing everything in his power to not phase through the floor. “Mr. Byrne, I believe you and I need to have a conversation. Thomas?”

“Yes, ma’am?” Whatever kindness may have been on her face is gone. “Um, yes, Dr. Bennett?”

“You should go back to class.”

He salutes her. “Will do.”

Tommy waits just a moment longer to watch the slouched form of his teacher go into the principal’s office before joining his family in the hallway. “That was amazing! You should save me every time…” he’s really confused right now why everyone isn’t celebrating with him. “What?”

“You should get back to class,” mom doesn’t sound mad, in fact, she seems entertained by the whole thing and is only putting on the parental facade because it’s what she has to do as his mom, “we can discuss some better ways to handle these types of situations later,” something he expected, “once your poor father here isn’t so traumatized.” Ah, he sees it now, dad’s still a bit stiff and hasn’t blinked in awhile, it would be rude to rub this in any more, that’ll be for dinner tonight.

“Sounds good. Won’t skip class again.”

“I’m sure…”

Billy tugs Tommy away as he counters back, “Have faith, mom,” and he walks away a free man.

*30, according to my own students, is the equivalent of being elderly and about to die.

**Long live the revolution!

#tommy shepherd #billy kaplan #vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet vision #the vision #haven't written in 2 months #hope it's not too rough #mine #ask anon #deathofink #thescarletvisionnetwork

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cherriesradio · 3 years

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Story I’ve had in my mind for a while that I honestly wanna make a comic with

(This is very simplified and with out any of the big events lol) tw blood mention

So there are three time travelers. None of them know they others are also time travelers, and keep running into each other without knowing it. Over time they all fall in love. Luka, Marshall, and Wilbur.

How Time Travel Works -

If you die in one time you don’t come back.

They don’t quite know how time travelers actually works. They know that they can’t find themselves, that the world spins when they travel, and the inbetween. Which is also where they first meet and find that they are all travelers. (Aka me still trying to figure out how time travel will work)

“The inbetween” is a giant White Castle/mansion. It was empty till Wilbur and Marshell started bringing in little items from their travels that their friends and family’s would feel odd about. It’s where they go after and before they travel to a place, because it gives them a second to process what they’ve done and possibly go back and fix mistakes. Which these himbos never do.

These are the only rules I’ve made about time travel, when I want to I watch movies and dives into different movies take on time travel to see what works.

Luka -

He was born in some timeline. He doenst remember which, but he has a few memories.

This is his motive of traveling. He’s trying to go back to his time, which he can’t find because he has no memory of when he was.

He first time travelled when he was five and has been trying to find his way since he was eight, after being taken care of by a forty-five year old man.

Who he often visits now.

He’s now twenty-one.

All his memories:

Playing in a flower field with who he assumes is his brother, who has the same dirty blond hair as him and freckles. He remembers his brother telling him “Dads gonna be so mad having to get all that muck out of your hair.” Most likely from rolling around in the field.

Having someone with very rough yet gentle hands running there hands through his hair as he watch’s his brother write.

A blurred figure telling him about how it’s going to be cold out that day while putting his long hair up. He somehow remembers the hair tie being black. (That has nothing to do with the plot lol)

He somehow fell on his face and he remembers his father (he assumes) telling him off while wiping off blood from his face.

He has long, dirty blond hair which he usually ties into a ponytail. (He hates when people touch his hair.) He has a small amount of freckles and brown eyes. He has a number of small scars from getting a little to into peoples business while traveling. He’s on the slim side, but has lots of lower body strength from running away from business owners after trying to steal stuff.

He likes trying the foods around different timelines; which lead him to getting food poisoning way more time than he should’ve.

He often felt bad about stealing stuff at first but after bringing a hoodie to 3,000 B.C. that he stole from a target he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt.

He often ends up interacting with the Wilbur more than Marshall, just because Wilburs reaosn for travel makes him go to times similar to his. (Wilbur finds flowers comforting, Luka visits a lot of flower fields)

Cant take a compliment or insult.

He wears lots of different things from different times, casually wears modern clothes the most because their the most comfortable.

He simps real easy

Bi king, more into guys

Will laugh at anything

Total DND nerd and he has a little DND group in the late 2000’s that he makes sure to go to on time

Basically he’s bastard baby and we love him

“Scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle”

Wilbur -

He’s from modern day 2000’s

He’s just trying to run away from his problems ngl

His family’s having so many issues, trying to keep their small diner up and running in COVID while they have to pay for his sisters funeral.

She was only eleven.

He’s a SOFTIE TO THE CORE

He’s a shy guy but if you crack his shell he RANTS SO MUCH ITS ANNOYING

He’s a big fan of mcyt and accidentally mentions it while talking to a poor bread boy in 1675 🥲✋ who turns out to be Luka-

Was the first to suspect that there were more time travelers cause he’s the only one with a brain cell

“Humble” aka hates everything about himself even though he’s the BEST

Give him praise or he will cry

Huge cry baby, might just be me projecting but like jabsnjsbshsja

Gets straight (pan) A’s in school 👌

Has curly brown hair that he dyes all the time and has to use impermanent dye so he can wash it out. He’s fillipino, he’s not really into the culture but loves the food. He’s a little overweight but still healthy.

Has the softest skin in the world like jesus

He wears lots of sweaters/hoodies/ anything bigger because he’s insecure about his weight 🥺 again projecting

This really just went straight from lore/ plot to baby didn’t it-

He plays animal crossing while chilling in the back of a horse drawn carriage in the 17’s

He’s pretty cautious about everything, not wanting to mess up history and all that.

But he’s legit created like fifthteen different time lines-

He’s like 19 the poor baby

Marshell

Marshell “Anger Issuse” Taylor

The reason he travels is because of his sister and brother. They died in 9/11 and worked making food there.

He often visits when the towers fell, thinking in his mind how he could save them. But he won’t risk it.

I’ve worked the least on him

People at his school used to always call him Marshmellow and when I tell you it pissed him the fuck off I MEAN IT

he’s muscular can and will beat you up

Fully capable of murder

Besides being a walking time bomb he’s pretty nice.

Sarcastic comments are his thing

Luka thought his DND alignment would be “lawful evil” at first but legit broke when Marshell told him he though he was a good person in the sweetest tone-

He DEFINITELY fell for the others first

He notices little things, and he has a whole list in his head of little things that Luka and Wilbur do that he loves

He likes the inbetween.

Was held back in fourth grade and called stupid for it.

When they all get together romantically the ages are - Luka: 23 Wilbur: 21 Marshell: 22

#tw blood #oc #ocs #time travel

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toongrrl-blog · 4 years

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Pink Power Rankings (Pt. 1)

Hi I am here to look at famous pink outfits in film and TV history and figure out: is pink a power color for this character? I choose to leave out obvious ones like Pink Power Ranger because, duh it’s in her name and this is gonna be a long list. Also avoiding real-life figures and onscreen depictions of real life figures because keeping it short (and I don’t have the time)

Pictured above are the bridesmaids at First Daughter Luci Baines Johnson’s wedding in the 1960s.

Mimi Tachikawa

She is the most obvious pick from Digimon and the girl most decked out in pink. To paraphrase this video from The Take: there was once a show about a strange world beyond our own, somehow a group of preteens were pulled into this world not of their accord, including a young 10 year old girl. Along with her friends they were exposed to the elements and fought monsters out to harm them, she was sexually harassed by two clearly adult digimon, uncomfortable with the elements, often had to put up with toxic masculine BS, and was often snarked at by the story and even some of her own friends for being so girly and into pink. Of course some audiences and the story were overcome with sympathy with this girl pulled away from a familiar world...

Just kidding! They weren’t and some audiences even gave her a lot of shit and this has only been recently examined. For a while Mimi Tachikawa had a problem that seemed to be well known by a lot of female characters, like Carmella Soprano, Betty and Megan Draper, Margaret Sterling, and yes Skyler White. Put a flawed, complicated woman character alongside more charismatic (and male) characters and she will be disliked (despite the audience being more likely to be she than the menfolk held up as icons).

This is sad because looking back, Mimi was truly a badass all along: she sticks up for herself, speaks up for herself, she is unapologetic about her love of pink and girly things, she is quick to tell guys when they are getting in her space, she’s honest, she lets Tanemon go on and fight with only a sincere question if she really is going to while the others hold their Digimon down, she stands up against the Numemon who were harassing her and her friends, and she was funny as hell. Sadly it took a long while for fans to grow up but many of us, especially girls, reclaimed her as our own. It also helped that Mimi came before girly icons like Elle Woods, Leslie Knope, and Joan Holloway and also before the boom in Gen X and Millennial women contributing to comedy and starting their own stand-up specials and movies and TV.

Power Ranking: 10, all because she held her own, no matter the haters and was glad to see us no matter how odd.

Karen Wheeler

Another complicated lady, this time older and from the 1980s. This is Karen Wheeler of Hawkins, Indiana whose children are off on their own adventure. She is trying to tap into her sexual power here. It’s dicey because the man in question is a young man and she is a unhappily married affluent housewife in the suburbs; she agrees to meet him at the motel for “private swimming lessons” and does herself up in a way inappropriate for swimming lessons (in Scarlet Letter Red to boot!), only to be stopped by the sight of her lazy husband sleeping on the Laz-E-Boy with their youngest child Holly on his chest. This season sees Karen open up to her two older children over the patriarchy and saying goodbye to a best friend and girlfriend after confessing his love for her.

Power Ranking: 6, because her sexual power was on shaky ground and only based on her looks and attention from a man but she shows some character development that season.

Nancy Wheeler

This look was a game changer, but Nancy is no stranger to pink and preppiness. Here she is wearing an outfit that recalls the postwar “Boyfriend Shirt” from Brooks Brothers for the female collegiate set and it’s updated with long loose but pinned hair and designer (or mock) jeans. In this outfit she goes monster hunting with her younger brother Mike’s best friend’s older brother and Nancy’s classmate, Jonathon Byers and squares off with slut-shaming police officers and a mother who chastises her for lying about her whereabouts and losing her virginity while Nancy’s best friend Barb Holland is missing and she also tells off boyfriend Steve for trying to cover his ass by not participating in the police investigation. This is the look (which can easily double as office wear) when you want to go straight from school where you have an impeccable GPA to monster hunting in your neck of the woods to find the whereabouts of your best friend and for fighting the patriarchy.

Power Ranking: 8, this is a girl on the move as we can see with her rolled up sleeves.

Eleven

The Iconic Look, the look where she made a boy wet his pants, found two missing kids, broke a bully’s arm. The Polly Flinders dress would alter the way we see girls in dainty pastel pink dresses.

Power Ranking: 10, can you do all that without touching someone?

Barb Holland

The most tragic look for this was the sweater that Barbara Holland (1967-1983) wore when she was taken by the Demogorgan and killed. This was the look where she was the recipient of a wet willie from a boy who looked down on her and her best friend who was dating his popular friend, the look where she accompanied her best friend reluctantly to the popular boy’s party, and where her friend turned her back on her concerns. This is the look of a passive and traditional (to her detriment) femininity. She did gain a huge following who cried foul over her fate.

Power Ranking: 4, points up for the fandom and devotion but she wasn’t empowered.

Erica Sinclair

That was depressing, let’s go to the girl who embodies America: Hawkins resident wise-ass, the girl who kept her observations and words as tight as her corn rows, and her planning as precise as her perfectly well done baby hairs (Black readers, feel free to correct me as I document her fabulousness), My Little Pony nerd and Economics wonk, and American Heroine. Erica sassed her way into Stranger Things with a raised eyebrow and a lusciously girly girl wardrobe that stands out and fits in with her Midwestern environment. She’s no stranger to pink and she commands attention and the best service at Scoops Ahoy and manages to get several ice cream dishes for free (the most elaborate ones) before getting in on finding the secret Soviet military base. Girlfriend manages to deal with teenage shenanigans, assassins, creatures from another world, near-death experiences, almost being captured by foreign enemies and the most awkward sing-a-long ever. She doesn’t seem to have lost her child-appropriate enthusiasm for games even when telling off old balding men for getting her age right.

Power Ranking: 10, you can’t spell America without Erica

Joan Holloway

Pink is an appropriate color for the resident femme intellectual of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, it shows that Joan is willing to defy “the rules” of fashion for redheads (she also wears red) and it ties into her 1950s persona of the bombshell who is trying to get married to a man who’d move her out to the upper-middle class suburbs and she wouldn’t have to work. That was Joan at the beginning: over time she started to own her natural independent streak and her willingness to buck expectations of her based on her gender and looks but also deals with the same men who ogle her, disrespecting her intellect, her hard work ethic, and even her body (fuck you Greg Harris). In this fuchsia number (still in the pink family), she sets up a luncheon with a colleague (Peggy Olson) where she pitches the idea of them setting up a production company with their names, while Peggy didn’t take, Joan starts her own “Holloway & Harris” with her babysitter and mother. Sealing her end as a strong, productive, independent woman who learned to own herself as she was.

Power Ranking: 10, men may like scarves but women like not being tethered to men.

Betty Draper Francis

Meet Elizabeth Hofstadt Francis and her ex-husband Don Draper (actually Dick Whitman), for about 10 years of marriage, they have enjoyed a union where they looked like a couple right out of a magazine, he being a square jawed handsome self-made man with an athletic build who often is compared to old-school movie stars like Tyrone Power or Clark Gable or Cary Grant and she, a beautiful model from a wealthy family in the Main Line area of Philadelphia who studied anthropology at Bryn Mawr and speaks fluent Italian and is often compared to Grace Kelly (and other Hitchcock Blondes). But the interior of their perfect colonial in the suburbs hid an ugly reality where she suffered from ennui and was a brat to her kids while he gaslighted and cheated on her with other women, more modern women, like she wasn’t enough. Eventually she found out his true identity and floored that she had been living a lie and gave up her last name for an imposter, she divorced him and married a man she met at her husband’s work function.

About three years later, Don is happily married with a younger and much more modern woman (Megan Draper) while Betty is married to a man who loves and accepts her even at her worst but to her chagrin has put on a lot of weight (a blow to a former model who grew up being raised that weight gain or being fat was the worst thing a woman could be) and she hasn’t dealt with her unhappiness in a productive manner.

For a while well into 1968, she accepted the extra pounds (although looking like she lost some) and coming middle-age and even dyed her hair black, until her new husband tells her he plans to run for office and as he was excitedly recounting what is to be done, says “Everyone will see you” not knowing that his young, vain wife would read this scenario differently and after assessing her new look to an old evening gown of her’s, she sped up her weight loss and returned to her slim and blonde look that turned heads. Soon she takes a drive to her son’s summer camp and runs into her ex-husband and they feel the old spark and sleep together; it is there she tells him that he as a lover is different than him as a husband and admits about the young wife she looked down on, “That Poor Girl, she doesn’t know that loving you is the worst thing to get to you”. Next morning she has breakfast with her new husband, who is none the wiser, while Don heads back to the city. But is Betty really happy?

Power Ranking: 7, not satisfied but has received some closure about her relationship with her ex-husband.

Sally Draper

This is Sally in her birthday party dress. On that day her father built her a pastel colored playhouse, Mother prepared treats for the adults and kids for her birthday party, she and her friends played out their parents’ (admittedly shitty) marriages at the playhouse, her father goes out to get her birthday cake from the bakery and returns only with a golden retriever named Polly, while her unhappy mother fumes about her husband doing something shitty and humiliating and not being allowed to ream him out because he brought a dog and that makes him the good guy.

Power Ranking: 5, she gets a dog but is still young and dependent on her messy parents.

Rachel Menken

Meet Rachel Menken Katz, running into her ex Don Draper while he is out with his latest mistress and she with her husband Tilden Katz. She would end this series as dying from cancer after having two young children and running her father’s department store and instead of flowers, requesting that donations be made for a Jewish hospital in the Jell-O Belt. In 1960 she fell in love with an ad man who proved to have been miserable and having lost his mother during his birth, as she did, she also competed in what was called “a man’s world” at a time when women were relegated to assistant roles at best and she split from him when he wants to run away with her, mostly because he wants to run away from his issues and not because of his feelings for her. As her sister Barbara said, “she had everything”.

Power Ranking: 8, she ends up dying young but she manages to “have it all”.

Megan Draper

Meet Megan Calvet, later to become Megan Draper. How does she become the next Mrs. Draper? At this timeline, Don Draper is dealing with life after divorcing Betty Draper (now Francis) and is trying (and failing) to quit alcohol and trying to date the intelligent, warm, no-nonsense, and close-to-his-age Dr. Faye Miller. But that night Megan, who noticed she caught her boss’s eye, decides to make the moves and in a uncharacteristically demure (many fans thought she looked frumpy here) but at worst basic outfit, she sleeps with him. This is the outfit for a quickie that later won his heart and has him pop the question and she becomes part of Creative at their work. But is this really for the best?

Power Ranking: 7, she married Don Draper but then again she married Don Draper.

Peggy Olson

Meet Peggy Olson, who officially walked away from the things holding her back from feeling at ease with herself and her choices. After a whole season where the priest impressed by her skills has learned that Peggy had a child out of wedlock and put him up for adoption and starts pressuring her to admit her “sin” while Peggy would rather move on with her life, she tells him they don’t see eye to eye and walks away from the Catholic Church and while the Cuban Missile Crisis is going on, she lays down in her bed with the pink comforter and pillows with her pink floral nightgown, she lays herself down to sleep and prays with a contented look on her face.

Power Ranking: 9, she’s not fully absolved of the issues plaguing her but refusing to wear a hairshirt and beat herself up? Awesome.

Dawn Chambers

Meet Dawn Chambers, from 1966-1968, she was the only black person (let alone black secretary) at the uber-white Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce (pun intended for the decor) and like many minorities in positions occupied by less marginalized people, Dawn had to keep her head low and not stand out (despite some co-workers considering her as remarkable as a sore thumb). But then in 1968, she made the mistake of punching in for a co-worker and they get caught by Joan Holloway (and it’s so horrid, thank God Don Draper intervened on Dawn’s behalf and Pete reminds them of how the ad agencies are being looked at for their minority quotas). This was also the season where Dawn took to wearing blazers over her blouses and skirts or dresses and here Dawn is wearing a conservative grey blazer over a pink shirt with ruffles down the front and a red plaid skirt when her work life alters for the...better? It is there that Joan sternly gives her the promotion of keeper of the keys, title not pay, and Dawn tells her that she decided she doesn’t care whether other people in the office hate her but she doesn’t want to disappoint Joan, who withholds any warmth or approval. The next season we see Dawn stand up to a entitled and mediocre white man (Lou Avery) and first she is moved to reception and then she takes over Joan’s post as Office Manager (With her own office! And the salary!) while Joan goes upstairs to her own office in Accounts.

Power Ranking: 10, this is a big fucking deal for a Black Woman in a mostly-White corporate setting during the 1960s.

Trudy Campbell

1970, Trudy Vogel Campbell has remarried her estranged husband Pete and they are moving out to Wichita, Kansas with their young daughter Tammy where he will work a plush job for Lear Jet (and they are being flown out by them!).

For the past ten years, Trudy and Pete have had a difficult marriage where he was dissatisfied with the choices he made and that he really didn’t want to marry her, and Trudy had to deal with being a woman with fertility issues at a time when motherhood was seen as a primary goal for women and women who didn’t have kids or chose not to were seen as weird at best. They had to deal with pressure from her father to adopt, his parents snotty issues, she had to deal with her husband’s attitude, his envy of others, and his cheating. But Trudy laid her boundaries and was able to stand up to her husband, without losing her gracious manner and her zest for society. She tried to be a supportive wife and she found some common ground with him, when it comes to common decency and politics, and they make an amazing pair on the dance floor.

Then came the end after their divorce: they behave more amicably, he’s more involved with their young daughter, he fights for Trudy, and he gives an amazing pitch for her to come back. She takes him back but lets him know that she isn’t the same girl he married a decade before and she looks at things for how they are.

Plus she is gonna rule Wichita!

Power Ranking: 8, she accepts there will be compromises but states her boundaries and has them met and will be a society wife.

Elle Woods

Who shows up in court in LA hot sandals, a pink tote bag for her canine companion Bruiser, long glossy hair, and a curve-hugging but professional power dress in shocking pink? Elle Woods. After trying hard to be taken seriously by her fuckboi ex Warner and her snotty, neutral toned Harvard classmates and learning that her Professor got her in an internship for a important lawcase (where they defend her fellow Sorority Sister) just for her looks, she leans into both her natural intelligence, expertise, and love of pink and all things girly to defend her friend and solve the case.

Also can we talk about how both Legally Blonde and Bridget Jones’s Diary are both movies where the attractive blonde protagonist is humiliated by showing up for a costume party in a Playboy Bunny costume under false pretenses and she deals with sexual harassment and being underestimated regarding her intellect? But LB ages better because it kinda pokes fun at the beauty myth more and is more inter-sectional and Elle finds supportive women to add to her posse of supportive sisters and she supports other women in turn.

Power Ranking: 10, Sisterhood and owning your personality quirks and interests and boldly defending others is always a win. Case Dismissed.

Lorelei Lee

The ultimate Pink Power icon and the one who set the path for all femme-y and cute loving blonde protagonists with wit and ambition. This is the song for a woman who sings about how transactional heteronormative relationships in the mid-century were and how the performative actions of men in heterosexual relationships don’t do much to improve women’s lives, like paying the rent and that they would use women for their own uses and could be shallow enough to dump women if they lost their beauty and/or got older, so for insurance make sure you get money or rather things that can be hocked and worn with pride, like diamonds. Tom & Lorenzo covered this in their One Iconic Look series and this sequenced has been spoofed several times in Hey Arnold!, Crazy-Ex Girlfriend, Birds of Prey, and most famously by Madonna, and it is the look for women who not only feel good about their curves but also want to show them off. As T&Lo said about the ditzy Lorelai and her savvier friend Dorothy Malone (Jane Russell):

These women were all about power, control, and looking out for each other. Men were side stories or play things.

And in the repressive Fifties it was outrageously pink and smelt of female sexual power (pink pussies).

Power Ranking: 11, hawwwwwwww that’s what you get for having an iconic and referenced look!

Marge Simpson

The most nostalgically remembered outfit in cartoons and the most written about in think pieces and articles by Millennial women who grew up watching The Simpsons and the rest of what the Animation Renaissance had to offer. In “Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield”, the family goes out to the outlet mall in Ogdenville where Marge and Lisa happen upon a beautiful pink Chanel suit that even left my cartoon-apathetic mother enthusiastic and Marge is soon seen by a old high school friend who mistakes her for being wealthy and Marge goes along with the ruse and is invited to Country Club activities with the ladies where she shows up in several talented alterations of her suit (until getting destroyed by Santa’s Little Helper, RIP Iconic suit), she also gives her family a hard time about how they don’t fit into that Country Club Scene and then when forced to see how she hurt them (and even Baby Maggie), turns around and tells them she loves Homer’s sense of humor, Lisa’s compassion and outspoken human rights politics, and just loves Bart (even if she can’t figure what she likes about him).

This also happens to be another instance where Marge sacrifices a social life (she’s not seen with a lot of friends who have her back, aside from a brief time with Ruth Powers), chances for social mobility, and her own self-improvement for her family. While we love a mother who prioritizes her family’s autonomy, we still kind of hope that she didn’t have to sacrifice her own identity for her family.

Power Ranking: 8, points for the iconic suit and it’s layered meanings.

Bridget Jones

A rare move of power for a normally powerless and insecure woman and in a shocking pink blouse and black slacks that show off her hourglass curves and go with her coloring.

Pink is not a color Bridget isn’t familiar with, especially with this deleted scene that shows her in Pink Passivity (and it looks delicate on a blonde with blue eyes and pale skin but could risk her fading but I as a brunette would look popping!). But here after entering a relationship with Daniel Cleaver (who is a walking red flag) and finding out he was keeping her as his side-ho to his skinny, bitchy American girlfriend and colleague and I have my problems with Bridget Jones as a series (which would take several parts) and I can talk about how Peggy Olson and Joan Holloway were a lot better written versions of her (klutziness and awkwardness but succeeding!). But this is a huge power move where Bridget wears a simple outfit that owns her looks (even being affirmed by a older and previously antagonistic co-worker that she’s actually thinner than the average woman and she can’t back down, like ever) and is able to quit her job for a better and more glamorous job and tell off her ex-boyfriend for how poorly he has treated her. And all her co-workers smile off as she walks off in triumph after telling Daniel she’d rather wipe Saddam Hussein’s ass. I kinda wish I could go Joan Rivers on Daniel here.

Also points on that bolder shade of pink.

Power Ranking: 10, no one gets to burn a cheating, manipulative bridge like that (and yes she is conventionally prettier than I but that’s not the point).

Alice Macray

I know, I should shut my mouth and wear beige but my personal color analysis says I’m a winter person.

It’s an interesting power move, albeit within the confines of patriarchal society and even the only defiance that wouldn’t get her tsked at because she is serving the Male Gaze. And yet it’s a natural part of her characterization in this part of the series: the traditional housewife stubbornly keeping her pedestal and fighting to stall progress for other women pursuing other paths (part of wearing beige and shutting up as Mother of the Groom is to allow the Bride to take center stage) but it’s also a path she had to take what with being a dyslexic in a less informed and intolerant era and growing up in a sheltered, conservative Catholic family. This is also the outfit she wears when she spots a younger wife being forcibly yanked by her husband, alluding that the patriarchy isn’t benevolent.

This isn’t her first time in pink, or even a pink and blue combination: she wears pink when she goes and gives out bread to defeat the feminists at the Illinois Legislature, she wears pink and blue when Bella Abzug calls on her and her peers’ hypocrisy, she drinks a Pink Lady when she is given a “Christian Pill” and it matches her lavender dress. It’s also ironic: pink, white, and blue are the colors of the Transgender pride flag and she is defending White Heternormative Cisnormative Christian Values TM and it’s also a color combo that shows up in the beauty parlor she frequents where she and her friends wring their hands over working women gaining more ground and feeling that their comfortable privilege is being taken away by women who sully their hands working outside the home while they stay home with their children in their coordinated pastels and have maids of color keep their worlds nice and orderly.

But she is wearing a pink maxi dress with a high neckline and a very prominent hat that provides very ladylike shade for her fair skin, just like our first Pink Power Girl Mimi Tachikawa, and like Mimi, Alice will take a life-altering short trip to Wonderland. And like Pink Power Girl Eleven, she finds her true hidden power and starts wearing more saturated colors as time goes on.

Power Ranking: 5, she is on her way to breaking out of her little safe world and doing more than subverting a wedding tradition.

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