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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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hermiones-amortentia · 3 years

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This is for people who think Ron and Hermione had no intellectual debates or Ron can't stimulate her intellectually. Here their intellectual debates in the books-

1. House elves

“They’re hats for house-elves,” she said briskly, now stuffing her books back into her bag. “I did them over the summer. I’m a really slow knitter without magic, but now I’m back at school I should be able to make lots more.”

“You’re leaving out hats for the house-elves?” said Ron slowly. “And you’re covering them up with rubbish first?”

“Yes,” said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag onto her back.

“That’s not on,” said Ron angrily. “You’re trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You’re setting them free when they might not want to be free.”

Ron is the only one that confronts Hermione about SPEW and really engages into it (So that its clear: Hermione defends that the elves should be free at all costs, Ron says they should be aware and included in this choice = two points of view, both defended = intellectual debate)

2. Discussing the ministry

“It could be a frame-up!” Ron exclaimed excitedly. “No — listen!”

he went on, dropping his voice dramatically at the threatening look on Hermione’s face. “The Ministry suspects he’s one of Dumbledore’s lot so — I dunno — they lured him to the Ministry, and he wasn’t trying to get through a door at all! Maybe they’ve just made something up to get him!”

There was a pause while Harry and Hermione considered this.

Harry thought it seemed far-fetched; Hermione, on the other hand, looked rather impressed and said, “Do you know, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that were true.”

Ron =shows how it could have been a frame-up and presents evidence; Hermione =considers his side and changes her mind; they were discussing something and reached an agreement over facts = intellectual

3. In the creation of the DA, we see Harry behaving quite emotionally (understandable but this does not qualify, using your definition, as intellectual). Ron and Hermione make their case for why he should be the teacher and basically organize the entire thing themselves

“Let’s think,” he said, pulling a face like Goyle concentrating. “Uh . . .

first year — you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who.”

“But that was luck,” said Harry, “that wasn’t skil —”

“Second year,” Ron interrupted, “you killed the basilisk and destroyed Riddle.”

“Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn’t turned up I —”

“Third year,” said Ron, louder still, “you fought off about a hundred dementors at once —”

“Ron and I have been sounding out people who we thought might want to learn some proper Defense Against the Dark Arts, and there are a couple who seem interested. We’ve told them to meet us in Hogsmeade”

Hermione and Ron recruited and organized everything for the DA

4. Discussing Dumbledore and Snape

“I did think he might be a bit better this year,” said Hermione in a disappointed voice. “I mean . . . you know . . .” She looked carefully around; there were half a dozen empty seats on either side of them and nobody was passing the table. “. . . Now he’s in the Order and everything.”

“Poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots,” said Ron sagely.”

“Anyway, I’ve always thought Dumbledore was cracked trusting Snape, where’s the evidence he ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?”

“I think Dumbledore’s probably got plenty of evidence”

5. Sirius death

They stayed together in the Hospital Wing for weeks and it can be correctly inferred that this was discussed given their behavior towards Harry

“Ron and Hermione left the hospital wing completely cured three days before the end of term. Hermione showed signs of wanting to talk about Sirius, but Ron tended to make hushing noises every time she mentioned his name”

6. Mad-Eye’s death and the 7 Potters mission

“Oh, Ron’s mum forgot that she asked Ginny and me to change the sheets yesterday,” said Hermione. She threw Numerology and Grammatica onto one pile and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts onto the other.

“We were just talking about Mad-Eye,” Ron told Harry.

7. Hermione’s parents and the Ghoul (they planned and prepared for the mission together)

“Didn’t realize that Ron and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry what you’ve done.”

“Nah, he’s just eaten,” said Ron.

“Go on, he needs to know!”

“Oh, all right. Harry, come here.”

8. How to destroy Horcruxes

“Hang on,” said Ron, frowning. “The bit of soul in that diary was possessing Ginny, wasn’t it? How does that work, then?”

“While the magical container is still intact, the bit of soul inside it can flit in and out of someone if they get too close to the object. I don’t mean holding it for too long, it’s nothing to do with touching it,” she added before Ron could speak. “I mean close emotionally. Ginny poured her heart out into that diary, she made herself incredibly vulnerable. You’re in trouble if you get too fond of or dependent on the Horcrux.”

9. Hallows x Horcruxes

“Well, I don’t suppose it matters,” sighed Hermione. “Even if he was being honest, I never heard such a lot of nonsense in all my life.”

“Hang on, though,” said Ron. “The Chamber of Secrets was supposed to be a myth, wasn’t it?”

“But the Deathly Hallows can’t exist, Ron!”

“You keep saying that, but one of them can,” said Ron. “Harry’s Invisibility Cloak —”

10. Formulating a plan to keep Hermione safe

“Ron glanced at Hermione, then said, “What if purebloods and half-bloods swear a Muggle-born’s part of their family? I’ll tell everyone Hermione’s my cousin —”

Hermione covered Ron’s hand with hers and squeezed it.

“Thank you, Ron, but I couldn’t let you —”

“You won’t have a choice,” said Ron fiercely, gripping her hand back. “I’ll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it.

Hermione gave a shaky laugh.

“Ron, as we’re on the run with Harry Potter, the most wanted person in the country, I don’t think it matters. If I was going back to school it would be different. What’s Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?” she asked Lupin.”

11. Off page discussion

“What’s happened?” Ron asked apprehensively. He and Hermione had been poring over a sheaf of scribbled notes and hand-drawn maps that littered the end of the long kitchen table, but now they watched Harry as he strode toward them and threw down the newspaper on top of their scattered parchment.”

12. Off page (2)

“You can’t tell me you’ve stopped having funny dreams,” Hermione said now, “because Ron told me last night you were muttering in your sleep again. . . .”

Harry threw Ron a furious look. Ron had the grace to look ashamed of himself.

“You were only muttering a bit,” he mumbled apologetically.”

Yet another evidence of their connection and off-page discussions

“Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke, but Harry felt sure that they were looking at each other behind his back, communicating silently.”

Ron and Hermione have emotional AND intellectual discussions throughout the series. So if you think Ron can't stimulate her intellectually you havent read the books. 😊

#ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #harry james potter #harry potter #ginny weasley #luna lovegood #draco malfoy #ron×hermione #harry potter memes #harry potter marauders #harry potter fandom

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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How about... No!

Yeah, this one was weird for me. It’s started out strong but near the near the end It kind of fell flat. Throughout this I sprinkled in Quotes from one of my favorite shows; I’d watched it every time it was on. Fans will recognize it. Its ugly betty.

When Marinette lost all her friends, she didn’t break down like she thought she would. Or how anyone in class thought she would. There were no tears, no apologies, no anger or frustration. It had happened one sunny Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of class, of month after school started back up again.

Alya, the new class president, had announced in the middle of class after Miss Bustier had stepped out for a moment, that Marinette was an awful bully; she wasn’t the girl they knew anymore, and so… “We’re not your friends anymore.”

“You all feel this way?” Marinette asked.

There were a lot of nods, and yes’s.”

“I didn’t hang with Chloe for reason,” Nino glared. “I’m not hanging with Chloe 2.0.”

“Just another disappointing useless male,” Chloe shook her head.

“You’ve been really mean lately,” Rose said softly. “Sorry.”

“Lila only wanted to be friends with you,” Mylene insisted. “You didn’t have to be so nasty!”

To which Marinette looked at her blankly, shrugged and said, “Okay.”

That was it.

The other students in class didn’t know what to do or say. They had prepared themselves to argue and defend their decision. But what could they say to “okay.”

Nathaniel looked at the rest of the students like there were stupid, “I’m still your friend, Marinette.” He got glares.

Adrien nodded, “We’re still friends,” he assured. “Though,” he glared at the rest of class, “Some people should definitely lose my number.”

The statement got shocked looks. No one expected Adrien to side with Marinette. At worst, when the lines were drawn, they expected him to be neutral. They didn’t know the boy as well as they thought. Lila looked dismayed as she had thought the boy to be a pushover.

“I wouldn’t mind a permanent truce,” Chloe offered. The Bluenette and the blond’s had entered into a truce that had slowly turned into a good friendship. “Maybe i’ll take over the spot as the new bestie.”

Marinette snorted.

Adrien glared at his oldest friend, his hair raising on ends; if Alya was officially out of the way that meant technically he had the number one friend spot. He wouldn’t lose it to Chloe. That wasn’t fair! “It’s taken!”

Chloe smirked, “For now!”

Marinette smiled. She would be just fine.

The class, however, wouldn’t.

It took them three days to realize that ending their friendship with Marinette had consequences.

The first time was when in the middle of lunch, Rose let out a happy scream, “Prince Ali is coming back to town. He’s invited me to a fundraising gala for the children’s hospital. This Saturday.” The other girls immediately launched into excited screams.

The four, who had been exiled from the rest of the class, ignored them. Mostly because they were all going to the gala as a well. Adrien because of his father. Nathaniel because his art was being displayed. Chloe because she was Chloe. And Marinette because her great aunt was hosting it.

When four was the first to make it back to class and sat in their seats in the very back; talking amicably, they barely noticed the other students come in. But they did notice Rose when she ran to the back of the class with a huge smile on her face.

“Marinette!” Rose chirped. “I need a dress for the gala; something formal. Something sparkly.”

Marinette nodded, “Have your measurements changed.”

Rose shook her head quickly, her eyes still sparkly as she daydreamed about dancing with Prince Ali.

Marinette opened her bag and pulled out her brochure that Chloe had insisted she get to hand out. It included examples of dresses she previously made and prices for things like dresses, skirt, suits, anything. It had her phone number, her website information; everything. Adrien had gotten tips from his dad about how he started out and relayed them to Marinette. It made her feel like a real designer.

She handed the brochure to Rose, who took it absentmindedly. “Ok, then it would be about $475. $550 if you want the full princess look.”

“Wha-What?” Rose asked confused.

The other students in class looked confused as well apart from Adrien, Chloe, and Nathaniel who bore smirks.

“The dress you’re commissioning,” Marinette said slowly. “The estimated price for a rushed custom dress is between $475 and $550. It would’ve been a bit cheaper but you’re ordering it at the last minute. All my prices are in the brochure; standard for everyone. I would actually just purchase one the designs on my website; it would be less expensive than having me create something specifically for you.”

Rose looked at the brochure, her mind struggling to process. “But you-you always make my dress for free!”

“I didn’t really like to,” Marinette shrugged. “But you guys never really asked you just demanded; like you did when you walked in.” Rose looked a bit ashamed; because yes, she did just demand. “Materials are really expensive. Every free dress or any custom piece I gave out I had to increase the price for the rest of my commissions. It never seemed fair to my other customers. Which worked for me because I opened up my own design studio and office. MDC Designs.” It was in a richer part of Paris; in an unused part of an office building. It had tons of natural light and an amazing view; plus it was private. “Though for some reason, the high price just attracted more people. But you were my friends so I did it anyway. Now we’re not friends so I don’t have to anymore.”

“Rich people,” Chloe explained. “The more expensive something is, the more they want it.” The blond had become Marinette’s social media manager and business manager as well. Because of her MDC was becoming Instagram famous and had featured clothes on various runaways. She always hired all the models.

A devastated look appeared on Rose’s dress; she couldn’t afford a fancy new dress. She didn’t have enough money saved up for one. She never thought she’d have to save money for a dress. Marinette always made anything she wanted.

“And you wonder why no one likes you,” Alya hissed that the two girls.

Marinette leaned back in her chair, “I could make an effort to be liked but I rather be hated than inconvienced.”

“You don’t need her, Rose!” Alix snapped. “We’ll find you much better dress than she could ever make.”

Alya crossed her arms, “And it won’t look as tacky.”

“Good for you,” Marinette said happily, and went back to talking with her friends.

While shopping for Rose’s dress, the girls decided to pull up Marinette’s website so they could make fun of outfits. Unfortunately, they were hard pressed to find anything wrong with the fabulous dresses. Even Lila spotted several she wanted for herself.

Rose didn’t find a better dress than the ones Marinette’s website. At least not one for a price she could afford. She ended up re-wearing an elegant blue dress Marinette had given her the year before for a dance.

Though she had stumbled when The Emily Gilmore, world around philanthropist millionaire, brought her niece on stage and it turned around to be Marinette. Marinette wearing the most gorgeous silver dress Rose, and most of the party guests, had ever seen.

“That is a friend of yours from school, yes?” Prince Ali asked. “I didn’t know there was a Gilmore in Paris. They contribute much to my Go-Green Projects. Will you please introduce me?”

Rose froze. Because no, she wasn’t Marinette’s friend. And it was highly doubtful she’d get anywhere close to Marinette.

“They’re not friends actually,” Chloe said swooping in. “A bit of a falling out. I’m rather close with Marinette though. I’d love to introduce you now if you’re ready. Marinette was the one to get the Gilmore foundation to really take an interest in Going Green. They are always looking for new ideas.”

Prince Ali gave a quick look at Rose, “I’m sure it will not take long. Is it okay with you if I go?” Rose forced a happy smile on her face and nodded. “Thank you!”

Rose was forced to watch Prince Ali offer Chloe his arm.

“I’m surprised you did bring Lila Rossi?” Chloe drawled as they walked away, leaving Rose, alone in the middle of party where she hardly knew anyone. “I’ve heard so much about her own contributions to your Go-green projects.”

“Who is Lila Rossi?” She heard Prince Ali asked. And just like that, a little bit of Rose’s world came crashing down.

It was two days later, before the first bell rang, Alya rushed to Marinette’s desk, with big smile on her face and hope in her eyes. “Did you see the new heroes?” She asked excitedly. “BrightRoar and Killer Bee!” She shot a mean look at Chloe. “I guess you got replaced for being such a lousy hero.” She turned back to the bluenette. “I need another interview with Ladybug, like stat! When can you set it up?”

“I can’t,” Marinette said and went back to pulling out her school books for the day.

“Of course you can,” Alya insisted. “You always do it! You’re the one who got me my first interview with Ladybug and everything.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Yet another demand. “No, I can’t.”

Chloe tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the desk, “What my best Mari (Adrien growled, “I will end you, Chloe!” Marinette was his best friend. But the other blond had been slowly invading Marinette’s room; leaving clothes and shows. A blanket on the top bunk though she knew Adrien had called dips.) is saying is that it’s not that she can’t, it’s that she won’t.”

“Why not?” Alya stomped her foot. “I need the deets on this now if I’m going to scoop Aurore and her BugOut site.”

“You’re not friends anymore,” Chloe taunted. “Why would she help you?”

“I-well, it just!” Alya struggled to find the right words to say. Because she never considered that Marinette wouldn’t want to help with her blog anymore. Or that she only did it because they were friends.

Marinette sighed, “No. I mean I really I can’t. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t even if I could.” She told her ex-friend and the other classmates listening in. “Ladybug only gave you interviews because we were friends. She always thought you were a bit much. When I told her we weren’t friends anymore, she decided to not work with the Ladyblog anymore.”

“That’s a lie!” Alya yelled.

“Then why don’t you ask Ladybug herself,” Chloe told her.

“I will!”

While Ladybug was patrolling that night it was to no one’s surprise that Alya stood of a roof top of a building and waved the hero down.

“Do you need help?” Ladybug asked the girl kindly once she was on the roof.

“I need an interview!” Alya said, her phone was out and she was live streaming. “Why did you replace Queen Bee? Is BrightRoar a lion or a tiger? Are they permanent?”

Ladybug looked puzzled, “I thought Marinette told you already. I won’t work with you or the Ladyblog anymore.”

Alya stepped back, shocked. “What? Why? I thought she was lying.”

“What did she tell you?”

“That you thought I was a bit much,” Alya growled darkly. “That I only got the interviews because I was her friend. Which was a lie; I got them because I’m an awesome reporter. And she said I wouldn’t get anymore interviews.”

Ladybug shook her head, “Marinette left out a lot of what I said,” At this Alya’s expression turned smug. “I did say you were a bit much. But I also said you’re blog had become a tabloid full of incorrect information that I just couldn’t support anymore. It keeps getting worse every day; I swear if I have one more person asking me about some girl named Lila Rossi, I’ll lose it. I don’t know a Lila Rossi, and she is not my best friend. Also, Chat Noir and I are not and will be never be dating; stop insisting that we love each other. I told Marinette, you were a bad journalist who needed to learn to check your sources and cite where your information. I should’ve stopped dealing with you a long time ago. Honestly, I thought working with you was a bad idea from the start. But I owed Marinette a favor, you are her friend. Oh sorry, I meant you were her friend.”

Alya stood stunned as the words washed over her.

“I wish Marinette wasn’t so nice sometimes,” Ladybug sighed, though Marinette was practically dancing on the inside. “She should’ve told you what I really said. I guess she just didn’t want to be mean. Good luck with everything, Alya.” And with that Ladybug swung away.

It took Alya another five minutes to realize she was still live streaming.

Alya thought she’d wake up to the entire world talking about her encounter with Ladybug but they weren’t. Sure there were dozens and dozens of complaints accusing her of lying to them but nothing to extreme.

Her friends comforted her as soon as she got to class. Alya barely noticed to down in the dumps. Lila had assured her that Ladybug was only trying to protect her which was why she pretended not to know the Italian girl. This relieved one of Alya’s concerns. Still, It was a hard pill to swallow but she realized that technically she owed all of the Ladyblog’s success to Marinette who had helped arrange multiple interviews and convinced Ladybug to work with her in the first place. All because Alya was Marinette’s friend. The Ladyblog was doomed.

Said Bluenette had walked passed Alya’s desk without so much as glance in her direction, instead talking amicably to Chloe.

A few hours later during the middle of a history lesson, every phone in class starting pinging rapidly with new notification to the point where Bustier instructed them to turn off their phones completely.

Bad idea.

“Bugout posted an interview with the entire Miraculous team,” Rose said excitedly.

Everyone was watching the interview within seconds, almost everyone Chloe watched Alya instead; drawing a suspicious look from Adrien. Bustier just sighed and got her phone out as well. To their surprise it wasn’t just four heroes, it was six.

Aurore gracefully interviewed Ladybug and Chat Noir about the coming and goings of everyday hero life. Then ask the big question; who were the new heroes.

“They are the new permanent members of Team Miraculous!” Ladybug announced with a smile on her face. “Killer Bee,” Chloe preened. She had to change her name and costume but she got to keep being a hero. “BrightRoar.” Nathaniel fought not to blush. He still couldn’t believe that Marinette chose him. “Viperion!” Luka had been thrilled to be offered a place on the team. “And Renard blanche.” Aurore had been given the fox miraculous and had created an illusion of the new fox hero so she could do the interview.

“What happened to Rena Rouge and Carapace?” Aurore asked.

“Permanently retired,” Killer Bee sniped. “They’re actions outside the mask were… untasteful. They showed themselves to be unworthy of being heroes. They were fired! At least Queen Bee got to resign with her dignity.”

Alya dropped her phone and rushed out of the room in tears; Nino and a few of her other friends following her. Nearly everyone in class thought it was because Aurore got the interview she had been wanted but four knew the truth.

“let’s take a quick break,” Bustier said softly, already mentally preparing for another akuma attack.

“That was mean.” Adrien told Chloe.

“No that was deserved,” Chloe stated. “Alya tried to get Max to hack into the MDC website and ruin it. I’m lucky Claude runs helped with our internet security or we’d have been screwed. Mean, was me taking your little Cat Bed and tossing it on the pullout. And replacing with it with a comforter set worthy of a Queen.”

Adrien’s eyes widened and he rushed out of the room, probably to Marinette’s to defend his territory. Honestly, Marinette thought, he was behaving more and more like a cat every day.

Marinette gave Chloe a look, “You’re still as horrible and evil as the day that Satan himself placed you in your mother’s arms.”

Chloe preened, “Oh, darling, that’s sweet.”

When Mylene got an amazing idea for a short, she immediately went to Nino to ask if he could direct. He said yes. While in Class, they immediately started making plans and cast roles and assigning jobs to the other members of class. . “We can start filming this weekend.”

“Marinette, you’ll do costumes again.” Nino said quickly. “And food! We need food.”

“No.” Marinette said back.

Nino was so busy making plans that it took a minute to process what she said. He looked up shock. “No? What do you mean no?

“I’m too busy with other commissions to take on your project,” Marinette said easily. “Plus even if I don’t design the clothes myself, there is a consultant fee; not to mention contracts to sign.”

Alya glared, “Contracts? For what? Its a school project!”

“No, it’s not.” Adrien snapped back. “It has nothing to do with school. We’re not being graded or anything.” He reminded them. “Marinette has a brand now. She has to protect it and her clients. That means non-disclosure agreements, security agreements. A contract will lay out just what she is responsible for and what she can bill you for. It keep that waters clear.”

Mylene frowned, “We don’t need all that.”

“You might not,” Adrien said defensively. “But people are starting to recognize MDC all around the world. A contract will stop you from using her name to boost your movie. Or maybe even stop you mentioning her in the credits all together.”

Marinette nodded, “Besides on my website and on the brochure on the class board, it clearly states for big projects like this; I need at least a three month warning. I’m swamped.”

Nino wanted to point out there Marinette always made time before. But he remembered Marinette saying not too long ago that she always made time for her friends. And they weren’t friends anymore.

In the next few weeks and months, the class got used to hearing the word No from Marinette.

Alix asked about getting a banner. Marinette said No.

Alya asked about getting food for the bake sale like always. Marinette told her she’d have to make an order at the bakery and pay for it in advance.

Kim needed a scarf for his mom. Marinette gave him her brochure.

Birthday party planning. Sorry, Marinette no longer provided that service; please review the brochure if further clarification is needed.

So to get back at the Bluenette, the class got her, and Chloe and Nathaniel, excluded from the Class field trips and class parties on the grounds that Marinette caused too much tension in the class. Lila insisted that Adrien would come around.

The four retaliated by no longer helping with any of the fundraising or contributing their own money. If they couldn’t go on the oh so special class trips, then why should they help pay for it? Unfortunately for the class, they had forgotten that a majority of the money donated came from what Marinette raised/Donated and what Chloe contributed.

Bustier’s class trips went from the envy of the school to “oh god, why are they on a farm?” Really fast.

And for every “amazing” trip the class went on and for every party they had, the four hosted their own events that ended up the talk of the entire school.

It took until the end of the school year for Lila to be finally be exposed.

Chloe, Marinette, and Aurore were having a mini spa day in Marinette’s room. Their faces were covered in green mud masks and their hair was in curlers and their wore pajamas.

When Adrien burst in the room, he screamed, “Akumas!”

Marinette through a pillow at his face, “That’s not funny, catboy.”

“Catman,” Adrien corrected with a laugh.

Marinette stated back, “Please! I’m more man than you’ll ever be.”

“Nino texted.” He kept forgetting to block his old friend’s number. “Dude! Lila’s a liar! Alya’s losing it.” He read the text of his phone. “Then five minutes later. Man, we screwed up big time, huh? A minute later. Sorry.”

“About time,” Aurore shook her head. “For a self-proclaimed amazing journalist it took Alya way too long to figure Lila out.”

“She didn’t want to believe it,” Marinette shrugged. “She’s not big on admitting when she’s wrong. Or when she’s gone too far. I admittedly enabled her for a long time.”

“Everyone did,” Adrien frowned.

Chloe rolled her eyes, “The class is going to come groveling back on Monday.”

“Let them,” Marinette narrowed her eyes. “I’m done with fake friends.”

The girls nodded. The low sound of small click got their attention. All eyes went to Adrien who still had his phone out.

Chloe stood up, “I swear, Adrien, if you took a picture of me on your cell phone; I will kill you and eat you.”

Adrien held his ground, “Surrender the top bunk or I post it on Instagram.”

Aurore blinked, and then looked at Marinette confused, “They know this isn’t their room right?”

Marinette face-palmed, “I don’t even know anymore.”

Monday, as Chloe predicted, the class did come groveling back.

Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, and Nathaniel walked into class only to see that everyone had rearraged the seats again to what it was originally before Lila came.

The bluenette nodded, “Time to get serious!”

Chloe and Adrien’s expressions turned cold. Chloe cast a look at the still friendly looking redhead, “Nathaniel, put on your game face.”

Nathaniel quickly tried to look stern.

“Not your gay face,” Chloe hissed. “You’re game face.”

“They’re the same face,” Nathaniel whispered.

Marinette crossed her arms, “What’s going on here?”

Alya frowned, “This is our way of saying sorry. We should have never believe Lila. The rotten liar turned us against you.”

“No!” Marinette shook her head. “Saying sorry is saying sorry. And don’t blame Lila for you chose to do.”

Chloe marched to the back of the class, and glared at Rose and Juleka, “You’re in our seats!”

Rose tried not to panic, “It’s not your seat anymore. You’re up front with Sabrina again.”

“Let’s try this again…” Chloe leaned down, and glared hard. “MOVE!” She yelled.

The girls scrambled out of the chairs.

With a huff, the remaining three walked to the back of the class without another word.

The four sat down and glared at the rest of the class.

“You guys can come on the class trip with us now!” Kim offered.

Nathaniel snorted, “Yeah, i don’t do camping.”

“We couldn’t any way,” Chloe said. “While you’re camping for a week. We’ll be in England for our own class trip.”

She got envious looks.

“We can come with!” Alix smiled. “It’ll be a blast.”

“No,” Marinette said. “We had to save up all year for this trip. We already made reservations. You can’t come. I wouldn’t want you to anyway. It’s too much tension. Why don’t you go find Lila? I’m sure she’d take you back.”

“Girl, didn’t you hear us?” Alya said. “We’re sorry!”

“Oh I know you’re sorry,” Marinette said coldly, “I just don’t know why you think that matters.”

#ml fic #ml salt #marinette dupen chang #adrien agreste #class salt #chloe bourgeois

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

everything i do (gonna think of you)

pairing: finn/poe dameron

fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy

rating: teen and up

word count: 4690

warning: swearing, alcohol

summary: Finn and Poe are on a break. Neither of them are okay. But Finn hears Poe singing about him on the radio, and they'll be okay. Always. (musician poe, artist finn, long distance break-up + getting back together)

(it’s been ages but my space bfs, it’s good to be back!! a long overdue installment in my finnpoe alphabet series. did not expect e to be the most difficult letter to work with !!! thank you to Cat / @wendigostag as ALWAYS for beta reading and supporting my messy ideas 🥰 love uuuu. enjoy??)

read on ao3

“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, I’m sure!”

The audience erupts in a half-laughter, half-cheer, and the host smiles, looking a bit too tired for his age.

“Tonight’s special performance is by someone who has, quite frankly, taken the whole of America - and dare I say the world? - by storm!”

Previous cheers resurface, louder and more certain than before. Even a few wolf whistles, making the presenter laugh as well.

“Here to perform his new single ‘cardigan’ from the debut album ‘folklore’, Poe Dameron!”

Quite literally everyone in the studio goes crazy, and as the camera directs towards the stage, a light turns on and reveals the curly haired man in all his glory.

He smiles slyly to the audience. A few noises, bordering on the line of screaming, makes him chuckle, but he puts all his focus on the guitar. Snaps, strums, and as the piano starts accompanying him, a soft voice forming strange and unfamiliar words.

Finn wipes the tear away in frustration before it even gets a chance to move, just tiny droplets stinging his vision. He’s sniffling, and biting his cheek, staring at the already half-empty bottle of red wine on the table.

Never in his life has he ever felt more pathetic, that’s true.

He doesn’t know why he’s watching this. And judging by the two texts pinging in on his phone, his best friend Rey somehow knows he’s doing it, too.

His vision’s too blurry to type, he thinks. Fuck it, pour another glass of wine. Who cares?

On the screen, Poe smiles while singing each word. But Finn knows the man better than anyone in that studio to know that it’s not really a smile. It’s the kind that his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend put on at their last FaceTime call. The one where he suggested they took a break.

He figures he should turn off the television when the performance comes to an end. No need to rub anymore salt in the wound, as Rey said.

Yet Finn sticks around for the interview because… because what? He hates himself? He hates Poe?

Neither. Maybe he misses him. Of course he misses him, enough to fight back the sobs, far from sober. But he’ll fight that obvious realisation, as well.

“Thank you for coming in tonight!” the host tells the singer, who thanks him in turn for the opportunity. Always the golden boy. The image of polite, kind, heart full of love, yet so goddamn stubborn.

“Mothers love me.” Poe had told him, back in college, the smug idiot. Finn’s mother loves him.

It’s mostly questions about the album, the upcoming tour, pictures of his parents and his pearly whites gleam when he speaks of them, how proud they are of him. It envelops Finn like a warm embrace. Huh. They haven’t hugged in five months.

They haven’t seen each other in five months.

Then the host starts grinning like a maniac, and he’s got a hunch what’s coming now is what he’s been wanting to ask all along, “Evidently, you got a lot of ladies who love you here.”

Audience cheers. Poe runs a hand through his hair. He’s so nervous, it’s adorable.

“You got a special lady in your life?” a question that quiets the audience significantly, still, waiting.

The singer glances at his shoes like they’re the most fascinating thing in the universe. Finn can’t hold his glass still, because, yeah. He looks like he’s thinking about it too hard. He wants to save him from that situation.

And although it feels like a million years pass, it’s probably only ten seconds before the reply settles, “Not at the moment, no.”

The crowd is nothing less than thrilled. And not only women, as the host implied, nah, everyone in that studio recognizes what a heartthrob Poe Dameron is. Finn couldn’t agree more.

What he knows about his ex-boyfriend that the strangers in the TV don’t know is, obviously, that Poe’s not interested in the ladies.

So does his family and close friends, anyone out of show business, really.

He also knows why his ex-boyfriend isn’t out to the public about his sexuality, yet. Or he’s got an idea. Maybe. Finn convinces himself of that, because then, he can also convince himself that he’s not the only one still feeling he’s being torn to pieces by this breakup. Feels better.

Although the screen connecting to his boyfriend’s call tugs on his heartstrings with its familiar warmth, Finn is, above all, pissed.

And for some reason, he feels ashamed for that. He knows he shouldn’t.

Poe hasn’t been home in a month. He was supposed to be here two weeks ago, but due to press bookings, credit to his boyfriend’s brand new agent, he called Finn late at night apologising like a broken record and promising to make it up to him.

And it makes him feel like shit.

Every apology made him feel more guilty for… harboring his time. Which is crazy, because they’ve been going steady for three years. They talked about this, the possibility of long distance, and knew, definitely, that it was gonna be hard, especially since they’ve been attached by the hip for so long.

Thing is, this has happened three times now, and it’s made Finn question himself.

Is he good enough for Poe? then later, another thought creeps in, Is Poe tired of him? or… is he not in love with him anymore?

Finn feels like he’s going crazy.

And even when he sees his boyfriend’s soft curls and eyes full of sunshine pop on his phone, it’s those thoughts that still inhabit his head. Fuck.

“Baby!” Poe says, excitement gleaming right through him and into Finn’s bedroom. They’ve been talking about moving in together, but, well, with long distance, mostly only talk for now. He’s off chasing the fame, which he deserves more than anyone, thank you very much, and Finn’s already booked up with art galleries and auctions eagerly grasping for his paintings. It feels like they’ve made it.

Except, “Phasma’s got me on Jimmy Kimmel! Like, can you believe that?!” his boyfriend spills out everything from this week, and it warms Finn’s chest, his gut, all the way down to his toes. But at the same time, this being Poe’s first words to him stirs weirdly alongside that warmth.

His career’s important. Of course. Finn’s happy for him, like, over the moon, all the way across the solar system happy.

He wants him to be successful. So then… then why does it feel like Poe prioritises it over them? It’s probably him overthinking it, he reasons. Again.

Finn can definitely feel he’s supposed to be sleeping right now; that’s another thing, cursed with being in vastly different time zones. He listens, smiling half-tiredly, thoughts wandering to everything and nothing.

Which is why he finds himself, all of a sudden, replying to his boyfriend’s, “I, uh, I’m actually writing you another song. Don’t laugh, please,” with, “A secret kind of song? ”

It takes Poe by surprise, visibly, and it takes himself, as well.

Finn bites down on his tongue in the cringe of it all. His boyfriend’s blinking, slowly, probably waiting for some sort of elaboration, but when he has no idea what to say, Poe inquires, “What do you mean?”

He sighs. Wholeheartedly, wistfully, nostalgic.

Finn thinks about when Poe asked him out, driving up to his window in true cheesy romantic comedy style and having offered to write essays in exchange for a school marching band performance.

Their first date, eating cotton candy and the curly haired boy insisting on trying and failing to win Finn a prize, until finally facing defeat. He won Poe a prize instead, first try, so the previous grumpiness faded in a matter of seconds. The butterflies threatened to burst his stomach the entire day.

Their first time, clumsy and awkward, teeth clanging in kisses and stupid buttons in Finn’s shirt being stuck and they laughed until they were out of breath. It was more perfect than anything either of them could’ve imagined.

He thinks about this, because neither of them were out before they got together.

This coming out thing? It scared the shit out of Finn. He was so lucky to have a supportive family, supportive friends. The school was a mixed experience, but he and Poe were in it together. His boyfriend tried to play it cool, but he knew how scared he was, too. He knows like the back of his hand, almost.

And this concern, it makes him feel so guilty he might vomit.

“I just… I was just wondering if you wanted to be official.”

“We are official, Finn.”

“No, I-I mean, public.”

He gulps around the growing lump in his throat. Poe goes scarily quiet.

This is also something they’ve talked about before. Fame is so new, it’s a whole new leap, learning how to handle all this, so it didn’t bother either of them to be secretive about their relationship, so to speak.

Their close network still knew, obviously, but the music industry, Hollywood, that’s way, way different than Finn’s newly established and growing network of artist connections and colleagues.

It wasn’t a problem. Until it was.

Coming out is personal. But ever since his boyfriend said he wanted to go public, then didn’t, as they were both on edge, then decided they should move in together and go public to slam down journalists linking Poe to a member of a girl group he met last summer, then didn’t.

It’s happened a couple of times. And finally, it seems, Finn is coming to terms with being tired of being ready and then backing out.

He’s terrified. Terrified of Poe being embarrassed of him, which he knows sounds crazy, also. But fuck.

“Baby, we’re gonna do it,” his boyfriend reassures him, but he’s distraught now, “You know we are. My agent just talks about my image, you know, I need to make sure-”

“Your image?”

That… that pisses Finn off. Conclusively. Because what the fuck?

“Phasma thinks we should do it at Christmas, season of love, you know?” Poe smiles shyly, he always loved the holidays. And he just doesn’t know how to react. “She’s fine with it, like, she didn’t ask me to fake being straight, like the guy I talked with before. Just-

“Are you embarrassed of me, Poe?” he finds the words slipping out before he can stop his mouth.

His boyfriend’s eyes widen significantly on the small screen, opens and closes his mouth several times, and there’s definitely a yell from somewhere in the studio, but Poe ignores it completely, “Of course not. Finn, I’m the luckiest guy in the world because of you. I just really… really think we need to time this right.”

“I,” Finn starts, but he’s barely sure where he’s going with the sentence. All he knows is that he’s scared Poe might tell him that all this time meant nothing to him. He doesn’t know why he leaps to that, but he does. His boyfriend might find something better than him in the limelight, “I know. You’ve told me, and I get it, I do. It’s just difficult being so far away from you, and then…”

He feels himself drifting off into a cloud of numbness and nothing, but Poe interrupts the sentence, “I thought you’d be more supportive of my career.” Finn nearly jumps. The words don’t sound cold, per say. But it’s weird. The good old butterflies flutter hesitantly, sort of in question.

“I am, darling, I-” he sighs again, “I’ve always been. You’ve just seemed like you’re ready, and I got the feeling that your agent didn’t want you to, and-” “Phasma wants it.”

“But on Christmas, Poe. This Christmas. I’m just scared you’re…” Finn shakes his head at himself, decides to be completely honest, because that’s how relationships work. Right? “Waiting for the moment to end this.”

“End this?” his boyfriend’s voice raises just an octave, looking perpetually confused. He also, admittedly, looks pissed. Hurt. “Do you want to break up with me?”

“No! Why would I-

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

Finn rubs his eyes, feels like they’re on goddamn fire. Poe’s biting his lips, rummaging around after moving what he assumes is a more private room than before, and avoiding eye contact. They shouldn’t be doing this on the phone. They shouldn’t be doing this at all.

He wishes his boyfriend was next to him, so he could curl up on his chest and sleep the entire weekend. It’s all he wants.

Ultimately, Finn makes the suggestion, “Baby, I’m sorry, I just… why don’t I call you next time you’re free? Or can you… are you getting back anytime soon?”

He doesn’t know how to describe this feeling, what’s happening, in any other way than it seems like Poe’s on a different planet than him, drifting in a meteor rain.

What Finn doesn’t expect least of all is his boyfriend’s answer, “Nah, you know, if you feel like that, we should take a break. A breather.”

And Poe smiles, but he sees through that bullshit. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

He’s trying to play it cool. Fuck. Why are Finn’s eyes stinging, now?

“A break?”

“Yeah.”

That’s so much to process. Fucking process it. The protests are bubbling under his skin, boiling and ice cold at the same time, but he doesn’t get the time when the yells on the end of the world resume.

“I really should go.” Poe tells him, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to.

“Poe…” he tries to breathe around the butterflies currently panicking inside of him. He’d scream at them to stop for just five seconds, if he could. His boyfriend’s already getting up from the seat, which is why Finn pinches the bridge of his nose and tries not to look at him, “Okay. Okay.”

The silence that settles between them, then, until they end the call in confusion and boiled up emotion, is far from the comfort they’ve been accustomed to. It ends without a goodbye. Without an I love you.

So, naturally, he gets absolutely zero sleep that night.

Whenever Rey told them they were being overdramatic, she was probably right. This is no exception.

Ever since the damnation of their FaceTime call, Finn tried to get into his head what went down. Namely, him and his boyfriend speaking over each other’s heads. It settles in the morning, the realisation that Poe assumed the worst of what he said, while he himself didn’t understand why he couldn’t come home . Just one day. Just to talk this out.

But in a recognizable stubborn fashion, his boyfriend ignored his calls and texts for the weekend. Finn tried so, so hard not to get pissed again. But also, Poe actively avoiding him made him want to cry. Not being able to just hear his voice made him want to cry.

Naturally, the following week, when his boyfriend decided to reach out, Finn became the one to ignore all forms of contact. It felt like they were walking in circles.

This is new and raw territory.

Finn and Poe don’t fight. It’s a basic law of the universe.

Which is why he doesn’t blame Rey for widening her eyes in shock at this new development. He also knows that she wants to intervene, badly so, given how protective she is of them, but because she’s lovely she always somehow knows when Finn needs his own space to think. Or scream into the void a little bit, whatever does the trick.

He’s pretty sure she didn’t expect this to go on for four months, now. He sure as hell didn’t expect it.

But… they’re both to blame. Finn’s pretty much dug himself a hole in the ground filling up with all his feelings, and as every week passes by, waits for his boyfriend to make the first move. He expects Poe to do the same. Nothing’s moving forward.

So, if Rey didn’t know him as she did, she’d ask him why.

Why don’t you just call him? He could. When his boyfriend stopped ignoring him, that is. Thing is, Finn’s world is sort of crumbling right now, and a confrontation with that isn’t something he can handle, he thinks.

It’s the thought of losing Poe for good. It’s the thought of Poe thinking Finn doesn’t want him anymore, when in fact he fears the exact opposite.

After watching that interview, though, he could breathe a little easier, he’ll admit.

And it’s weird. He felt inherently about a hundred times worse during it. The day after, he just kept thinking about Poe and his stupid curls and his nervous smile and what he might be doing while Finn was helping his sister with the dishes.

Maybe it’s knowing his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend (?) is okay. Does look more okay than himself.

It calms him. The next day, it makes Finn want to burn up all their polaroids and mail the ashes to the singers’ hotel in a massive envelope. As said before, this hole is deep, too deep, making it difficult to be rational.

A week after the interview, he’s just about on the edge to complete numbness.

Maybe he’s been reading those hilarious dumb gossip magazines whenever his boyfriend was on the cover. Shut up. If he acknowledges the ridiculousness of that, it’ll only make it worse.

Finn feels weak for being this torn up after a breakup… or break. He’s had breakups before Poe, but none of them hurt like this. Does it ever just fucking stop?

Apparently not, because when he picks up the phone with Rey’s name flashing, Finn expects it to be another question of what’s going on. How he’s doing, or not even a question, but an order to let her in as she’s probably already standing in front of his building carrying ice cream and bad horror movies.

He doesn’t get why she doesn’t just use the key he got her already, but it’s still endearing. Except, “Turn on the radio.”

“What?

“Finn, turn on your radio. Trust me.”

And so he scrambles around, the determination in her voice definitely not something to mess around with. Finn eventually uncovers it underneath the mountain of Poe’s vinyl records, and while his best friend doesn’t even tell him what station she’s referring to, he’s got a feeling about it. Also, it’s the first station that pops through the speakers when he turns it on, so.

Then, he has absolutely no idea what to listen for. The hosts are making some jokes about the song they’re gonna play next, thereozing about a “lost love” , and Finn’s about to ask until he realises Rey’s hung up on him, and a text.

just wait. u won’t regret it.

It’s too ominous for his best friend’s usual shenanigans. He’s a little worried.

But unlike the last hellish, unbelievable four months, Finn doesn’t have much time to worry, before the voices announce, “We present an exclusive live performance from our new favorite heartthrob, Poe Dameron!”

Oh God. Oh God, oh shit, oh my god.

Naturally, Finn’s anxiety kicks in like a punch in his gut.

In fact, he’s about to pull up his best friend’s contact again, sick of hearing the single that Poe wrote for him and not even being able to revel in the feeling anymore. Only it’s not ‘cardigan’.

Four months ago, a few days before they decided to take a break, his boyfriend sent him a couple of voice notes, containing lyrics and guitar pieces and other bits for the album he wanted Finn’s approval on. He always wanted his opinion first. It makes him all warm again.

This song, however, is brand new, unheard to everyone’s ears. Including Finn.

“I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit

Been saying "yes" instead of "no"

I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though

I hit the ground running each night

I hit the Sunday matinée

You know the greatest films of all time were never made”

The melody has the same calm like the other songs he’s heard, an image of fairytales and bare feet dancing in the woods and stars twinkling in the night.

The melancholy is unfamiliar, though.

“I guess you never know, never know

And if you wanted me, you really should've showed

And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

And it's alright now”

Finn’s thumb hovers over Rey’s contact name, but he can’t bring himself to move.

It’s the alright part. Except, despite how much he tries to lie to himself, he swears to everything god that his boyfriend’s voice breaks over the word. It’s subtle enough that the interviewers could pass it on as him being hoarse, he reasons, but Poe can’t fool him.

He wants him to be okay. Actually, no, because being okay means not missing Finn like Finn misses him, and that would hurt more than anything he can imagine. But also, he’s too far away for a reassuring hand. That’s why he wants him to be okay.

“But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool

And if my wishes came true

It would've been you”

For some reason, it’s only then it settles into Finn’s mind.

Oh.

The song keeps going, and his emotions keep going, from the chaotic jumbled mess he’s become accustomed to a quiet buzz. He feels like his breathing’s slowed down, and a pocket in his heart is being emptied onto the floor.

Poe feels exactly the same way, he imagines. He has to.

Finn’s abandoned his phone somewhere unknown between the couch cushions, and he’s stuck staring at the empty wine bottle he hasn’t had the energy to get rid of, his microwave dinner half eaten, until his ex-boyfriend’s song comes to an end.

‘the 1’ is the title. He doesn’t know if he’s crying or not, which sounds a bit dumb in his own head.

“Poe Dameron!” one of the interviewers yells obnoxiously, clearly trying to hold in their excited giggling, “Those were quite emotional lyrics. I’m guessing there’s a story there somewhere?”

Finn could roll his eyes into the next century at that comment. Jesus Christ.

The singer’s complained about these kinds of people before, of course, he chuckles, politely, hesitantly, probably spinning the best way to avoid opening that door of vulnerability on open air, “I think everyone writes from their own experience, really.”

His voice has the same elegance and softness and gruff that makes Finn think of home, despite the tinny speakers and distraction that vibes off of him, all the way over in the states. It’s unbelievable.

The interview keeps going in the most standard way possible, a couple more questions Poe subtly circles around (including about dating, obviously), some jokes, and they eventually get to that segment where the listeners can call in and ask their own question to the dreamy man.

Some are boring, some are weird, some are intrusive, some are just teen voices in awe of his relatability and what not, mountains of flattery which his boyfriend is all too shy and starstruck to handle.

Finn bites his lip.

They repeat the number of the radio twice. The programme ends at nine. That means about forty five minutes of fan questions.

He shouldn’t. This is ridiculous. But what if… what?

Poe’s voice somehow carries his hand to fish the phone up again, though, like a strike of magic. And then the tone sounds, one, two, three, and it’s too late to take it back now. Shit.

“You’re live! Can our next lucky listener introduce yourself and your question?”

He tries so hard, desperately so, to swallow around the lump in his throat, seeming impossibly massive. The eerie silence is simply too painful to bear, though, so Finn squeezes his eyes shut hard for two seconds, before forcing the reply out.

“Yes, uh, hi. This is Finn Solo. From Pennsylvania.”

A beat. “Pennsylvania?! Well, honey, that’s actually Poe Dameron’s home state, isn’t it?”

Two beats. The singer clears his throat. “Yeah.” Clearly, he recognizes his voice in an instant. Well, obviously, he’d be shocked if he didn’t. Still, Finn feels like curling up in a ball and hiding from the world. He wonders if Rey’s listening, right now.

The interviewer seems unfazed from Poe’s hesitated answer, or they just choose to ignore it, he supposes. “The floor is yours, Finn. Ask ahead!”

So… how is he supposed to do this, again?

This is the worst idea Finn’s had in his entire life. Seriously. And he accepted Rey’s dare to swing all the way up and around the swingset in fifth grade, he’s well aware of what reckless looks like. This is it.

Still, he’s stuck now. Poe’s listening to him. Kind of forced to.

And against his own better judgement, Finn silences the million overthinking thoughts in his inner ear by simply saying whatever hits him first, “Did you mean what you said? In the song?”

Seconds feel like fucking hours right now.

“Sorry, can you-” one of the hosts start, but he feels moved to continue. “When did you write it?”

It’s low, the feedback of his boyfriend’s microphone can just be made out. He prays that was only comprehensible enough for Poe’s own ears, because Finn could never possibly live with himself if he outed the person he loves most in the world. Seems so, given the interviewer once again asks the singer in confusion.

“What do you say, Poe? Do you need, uh… for him to elaborate?”

“No.” the man says simply, shyness seemingly having faded away in a glimpse. “Finn, I wrote this back in May.”

Four months ago. Same month as their FaceTime call.

“Only a week after our call. Took me five hours. I needed to get every word just right.” Poe says those words so steadily it shocks Finn. His hand feels numb and itchy around the tiny device, and one of the hosts gasps.

“I-” he starts, but has no idea where to go, where to turn. Finn didn’t expect any of this tonight. A deep breath is needed, “Do you mean… you wrote it about me?”

He feels like an absolute idiot for asking, even doubting it, but given the emotional rollercoaster he’s been through up until now, he’s grasping for straws of confirmation. Poe chuckles, barely audible.

“All my songs are about you, darling.”

What the fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Another gasp is heard in the studio, a little louder this time, but he sends a silent thanks, still, to them being too taken aback to intervene.

Okay, these are definitely tears in Finn’s eyes, now.

One rolls down, cool against his hot cheek, and he almost wants to laugh widely, processing what’s happening over and over in his brain.

What’s mostly replaying is the nickname that he’s missed… too much.

If they were in the same room, in front of each other, alone , he could say and ask a million things. This conversation is impossibly too vulnerable for open air, but Finn really thinks, really, that this step was needed. At least, it’s something he’s been longing to hear.

Instead of breaking down in the happiness and sadness he’s feeling, instead of talking about the miscommunication they’ve been the victim of, he smiles. Can’t stop. It’s hurting his whole face, actually, but his chest feels endlessly lighter.

“If… uh,” Finn chuckles at himself again, him and his stupid emotions, probably laced obviously in his voice, “Is there a chance that you still want to write songs about me?”

Poe laughs back, warmer and wobblier than before. “Of course. Of-fucking-course. There’s no one else I’d rather write about.”

Those hosts over there are probably freaking out big time, but Finn can’t bring himself to care much.

They sigh rather in unison. Him and his boyfriend. Breathing shaky and yet steadying themselves, almost. Together.

“Okay. Okay. Thank fuck,” he finds himself sniffling, “Okay.”

“They’ll always be about you.”

21 notes · View notes

hains-mae · 4 years

Text

Flowers - Pt. 5 (The End)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (The End)

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

The Flowers: @call-me-prodigy @annoylinglyaries @zphilophobiaz @comic-brew @biglilwing @awkwardspontaneity @lozzybowe @mariiecapo @distressedearie @diyosku @dracoaereum @thesuitelifeofafangirl @chims-kookies @blade-xingston @danicalifxrnia

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays.

Notes: Wow that was a fun ride. But every story comes to an end, I hope you guys enjoy the final chapter! And thank you everyone who has taken their time to like, comment, and reblog. I appreciate it a lot <3

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

Robin visited every other night after that. It was surreal to have a hero that you’ve so long admired become your frequent visitor. Then again, nothing seemed normal anymore.

“It’s past the convention week. How do you keep coming here?” I asked curiously one night.

Robin gave me a lopsided grin and tapped the side of his nose. “I have my ways.”

After Mom’s week long leave was up she begrudgingly had to go back to work. The hospital assured her that I was healing fairly well, and that I would be transferred to Gotham Hospital the following weekend.

I was never really lonely though. Besides the friendly staff, my midnight visitor always came right on time. I wondered why he would take the time. Maybe it was to get to know me better? Perhaps my speech that night managed to get through to him. I had hoped it was both.

If I was being honest though, I was a little more than glad he did. I had meant it when I told the boy that I found him intriguing. He was a tough nut to crack though. I couldn’t blame him.

During the day when I would shower, I’d trace the flowers across my frame and wonder just how much he had gone through.

Soul marks start to appear at 10 years of age. You could imagine the shock (and worry) my parents had gone through when they found me one day absolutely covered in flowers.

From a young age I would hide them. Always wearing my sleeves till my palms, my neck constantly covered with either my jacket, scarf or high placed collars. It wasn’t that I was ashamed, but Gotham liked to talk – and when you’re the subject of attention, then you’re an easy target for criminals.

As I got older, the marks around my neck forearms slowly faded. I had worried about my soul mate and their well-being. Now that I understood everything, it was a different type of worry all together. The kind that would sit at the pit of your stomach and tie knots, heavy enough to keep you on edge.

My T.V in the hospital room was always on the same channel, Gotham News. Every battle would have my heart clenching as the camera’s desperately tried to follow the fight. Most of the time’s they wouldn’t be able to capture the end, and I’d be left holding my breath.

That’s one other reason I looked forward to our nightly visits. I could relax knowing he was alright.

I still wasn’t sure what I felt for this enigma of a person. But I knew that I wanted to get closer.

“I have an idea.” Robin said one evening. There was a glint his eye, the mask was off since my mom wasn’t around anymore. “And it’s got something to do with your invention.”

I arched a brow. “The bullets are complete but I still have yet to finalize the counter measures.”

He nodded understandingly. “Counter affect can wait. We don’t want to encase anyone in rock at the moment, but I’m putting it out there since you wanted to help.”

Intrigued, I urged him to continue.

Damian was quite brilliant in his own way. After much thought and planning, we had about 3 more types of chemically enhanced concoctions laid out. All of which were to go through Batman before beginning the experimentation process. He has assured me that I would be leading the research team for that under Wayne Ent.

I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital.

“Do you like sweets?” He asked randomly.

Arching a brow I studied him. He was slouched on the couch with his leg dangling on one side and a book in his hands.

Charles Dickens.

“Yes.” I said, noting his obvious attempt to look natural. “Do you?”

“On occasion.” The boy shifted a shoulder to mimic a shrug.

The very next visit he had a black bag slung across his shoulder. His face gave nothing away but from the times I’ve spent with him, I realised it was his eyes that did most of the talking.

“Whatcha got over there?” I asked curiously, scooting closer to him at the edge of the bed.

“Patience.” He said and pulled up the make shift table that was attached to the side of my bed. Placing a medium sized box on top, he carefully undid the lid and opened it. “I present to you, baklavas.”

In the dim light I saw that they were flaky, almost like a croissant. There were some with a mix of nuts, from pistachios to almonds. Others were plain but still looked heavenly. They gleamed with a moistness, as if coated with a syrupy substance. I picked one up and popped it into my mouth.

It burst with flavour and dissolved much too fast. I squeaked at the exotic taste.

“Oh my gosh these are so good.” I said, licking my thumb.

Robin looked pleased.

“You should have one.” I pushed the box towards him but he shook his head.

“They’re yours.” He said.

“Nonsense. Food always taste better when shared.” I picked another one up intending to eat it.

“If you insist.”

I had barely managed to register the wicked glint in his eye before he took hold of my wrist and brought my hand that was holding the sweet close to his mouth. He took it carefully from me in one easy motion and lightly licked my finger.

“You’re right. It does taste better when shared.”

I felt the burn on my cheeks and ears before I heard the warning blare of the heart monitor. Immediately, Robin slipped behind the couch just as the nurses for the nightshift burst into my room in a panic. They fussed over me as I repeatedly tried to tell them I was alright. My heart finally calmed and once they left, Robin got up covering his mouth. He was trying to keep himself from laughing.

-x-x-x-

The weekend came much faster than I had anticipated. When the doctors checked on my progress, they gave the thumbs up for me to be transferred to Gotham’s hospital. Mom was relieved, and wouldn’t stop fussing over me when we got there. I let it be though, thinking it was more for her own peace of mind than mine.

After that it was a short two weeks before I was fully discharged.

Robins visits never wavered though. If anything, he had stayed for longer periods of time. I got to know the boy under the mask more than I had hoped for and opened up in return more than I had intended.

I found out his brothers were vigilantes too. He pointed them all out one evening with a family picture he’d secretly stashed in his wallet. They were a “thorn” to his side — as he had so eloquently described, but I could see just how much he loved them. That was another thing I learnt about him, his speech patterns were very posh. He liked to use formal names and slang was not completely in his vocabulary. I asked him about that one time, to which he only replied “another time”. It was probably a touchy subject, where he exactly grew up.

His favourite colour was green, and his adoration for animals was as deep as black hole. It was crazy how perfect my mind painted him to be, and the more I knew, the harder it was to ignore the feelings growing inside me.

He enjoys reading, but would gladly spend the day locked in his room with his tablet and pen drawing the day away. He is good both in traditional and digital art, and sometimes dabbles in graphic design when he feels like it. He prefers his tea without any additives, but would not hesitate to pour bucket loads of milk and sugar in his coffee during the rare moments he drinks it.

I could list everything down but it would just solidify my attraction to him, and honestly I doubt this was he needed right now. Juggling a double life sounded a lot more stressful than he showed it to be. He hardly ever talked about it but from the amount of flowers blooming on me, it was difficult to see it any other way but exhausting. He’d kick butt at night, get hurt, then go to school the very next day like nothing happened.

He arrived one evening like he normally did and I had rushed up to pull off his glove. I felt a sting earlier and found a Sakura branch littered with pink flowers. I was right, his arm was soaked in red, and the gash looked bad.

“It’s just a scratch.” He promised me.

I didn’t reply. Taking him straight to the bathroom, I rinsed out the remaining blood and addressed the wound. After bandaging him up I finally looked into his eyes and showed him just how worried I was.

That evening we sat next to each other, with our fingers intertwined and his thumb randomly brushing against my knuckles.

-x-x-x-

Finally I was able to return home. Being able to lie down on my own bed, inside my own house, I could let loose and properly relax. I threw myself onto the soft comforters that smelled like fabric softener and smiled to myself.

Home sweet home.

But not for long, I reminded myself that this evening I would be dining with the Wayne’s. Swallowing hard, I hurried my face onto the pillows. I can’t mess this up, not after everything they’ve done for me.

Damian’s smirking face suddenly came to mind, and all his welcomed visits. It made my stomach grow warm. Remembering us sharing the sweets he gifted – soft lips against my fingers.

I groaned into the pillow, the room was getting a little hot. Getting up gingerly, as to not aggravate the newly healed stitches, I manoeuvred my way to the window and pushed it open. The cold evening air felt good against my heated skin. I sighed in content.

If I were being honest, I didn’t know what exactly was happening between us. I didn’t know if I wanted anything to happen between us. Wouldn’t it be weird, considering that I’d be interning for his dad in just a couple of months. Possibly work there if my luck doesn’t run out first. Not to mention WHO he was.

You’re just a normal girl, I chided myself. Not someone important enough to stand beside such a prestigious boy and his ridiculously wealthy family.

But even then – I found myself wondering. Seeking. Imagining… What if we were to become something more? What if it works? What if we fall in –

“Y/n!” Mom’s voice broke through my reverie, waking me up from the needless train of thought.

Closing my window, I poked my head out the door and found her putting on a bracelet.

“Are you ready? The cab is nearly here.” She asked.

I nodded and took a step closer to her. Looking quickly at the vanity mirror in the hallway, I gave myself a once over to make sure everything was in place. I had on a slightly fitting turtle neck sweater, paired with a high waisted pleated skirt and dark stockings. On my feet I sported on my boots. It was safe to assume no one would be able to see my soul marks.

My mom grabbed her purse and headed downstairs. I followed close behind her, handing her her coat before locking up the front door.

The cab driver arrived a few minutes in, and we drove off straight to Wayne Manor.

“This is exciting isn’t it?” She said to me with a lift in her voice, as she exited the cab to get the gates opened.

Once we could enter, we were greeted with a very large land that was pristinely kept. The grass was cut evenly, and the trees lining the estate were trimmed to perfection. Bushes were perfectly shaped into different animals, and flowers systematically grown to create swirls and shapes beside the road. A big fountain was situated just in front of the mansion while a man in a black suit waited beside the opened doors.

We exited the cab after paying and did our best to take it all in without looking like fishes out of water.

“Ah, Mrs. & Ms. Y/l/n.” It was the man who I saw pick up Damian that one night in Metropolis appeared. I also remembered him in the family photograph. His accent was thickly laced with British poise. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth, I shall be you’re attendant for the evening.”

“Thank you.” Mom was quick to compose herself.

As soon as I entered the house I felt my breath stolen away. It was huge. Everything looked so new and polished.

I barely registered my mom and Alfred chatting away as he led her to the dining hall.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

I nearly jumped at the voice that startled me. Whipping my head around, I found Jason standing with his hands in his pockets.

“I remember my first time coming in here. Completely floored.” He chucked.

I waved a small greeting. “Everything looks so –“

“Expensive? Exorbitant? Grand?” He tried to guess.

“Beautiful.” I breathed out.

He laughed. “Not what I expected. But you’re full of surprises aren’t you.”

I blushed. “Ah, I’m not sure about that. I’m just me.”

“Hey, no stealing our guest before dinner.” Dick walked down the stair case with Tim beside him.

“Feeling better Y/n?” Tim asked as we grouped just below the stairs.

“Yeah, thank you.” I answered, suddenly feeling flustered as they surrounded me.

Stay calm.

“Don’t be nervous.” Dick said with an air of comfort.

I wanted to ask what made him think so, but he answered before I even began to articulate the words.

“You’re fidgeting like a college student during a thesis debate.” He said simply.

“You’re… very good at reading people.” I arched a brow at him.

“One of my many amazing abilities” He winked.

Jason let out an air of playful frustration and pulled Dick aside. “And now you’re stealing her. Can’t hold a normal conversation can you Dickie, always a flirt.”

“First of all – do I need to remind you who mostly does all the talking during dad’s parties. And second of all – I am not a flirt. I can’t help it if I’m charming.” Dick mocked a suave look and shot it as his brother.

Jason looked like he was about to gag and Tim was less than pleased. I laughed at their antics.

“What’s funny?” Damian appeared beside me. I jumped and held a hand to my racing heart.

“Jeez, do all of you have a talent for sneaking up on people?” I wheezed out, trying to gather my bearings.

They all grinned at me without answering.

Robins, my inner muse whispered. I brushed off the thought as quick as it had come.

We had made it to the dining area just in time for Alfred to begin serving the meals. My mother was already chatting up a storm with Mr. Wayne. A wine glass in hand and a slight tint to her cheeks. She looked happy.

I began walking towards the seat beside my mother when Damian pulled out the chair like a gentleman. I bit the inside of my cheek and mumbled a thank you.

He took the space beside me and the rest of his brothers seated themselves opposite us.

As we opened our plates for dinner, I was amazed to see how well it was presented. Mr. Pennyworth continued to serves other dishes, and once he was done he left the room.

The food tasted just as good as it looked.

Easy conversation wafted around us, the usual topics of school, and future plans. Mr. Wayne brought up the internship which I nearly gushed over due to my excitement. Damian held back a laugh with a cough when he noticed my little slip up before I composed myself again. I bumped his knee under the table and playfully glared at him. He smirked and bumped me back.

“My compliments to the chef Mr. Wayne.” Mom said.

“I’ll be sure to tell him.” He smiled through a glass of wine. How many glasses in were they at this point? Damian and I were the only ones who weren’t allowed so both our glasses were filled with water and juice.

“And, please,” Mr. Wayne continued. “Call me Bruce.”

“Hey, we should give the women a tour.” Dick suggested. “I’m sure you’ll both love it.”

Jason and Tim had excused themselves, and I had an inkling as to what they were up to. Patrols were a common thing, as Damian told me.

And so with Dick and Bruce leading, my mother and I followed as they showed off the grandness of the manor.

I couldn’t help but be awestruck all over again. The library was huge. Their shelves towered from ceiling to floor, and filled with all kinds of books. From novels to more informative documents. I recognised a couple of titles from the times Damian spent the night reading.

The sunroom was next. The glass was near invisible. I took in the sight of the gorgeous garden just beyond the panels, being able to outline a gazebo at the far end with flowers twisting around its pillars. I unconsciously touched my stomach where the stitches were, randomly pondering what kind of flower had bloomed from such a brutal wound.

“Are you okay?” Damian was beside me immediately and his hand supported my elbow. His voice was laced with concern.

“Oh.” I realised what he was talking about and pulled my hand down. “I’m okay, just a little tired.”

“Honey?” My mom’s face pinched in concern. “Is it hurting again?”

“I just need to rest Mom, I’m fine.” I assured her. “You should continue, I’ll just sit here for a bit.”

Mom was hesitant but there wasn’t much she could do, and she knew it. So they moved on, but not without Mr. Wayne asking for some painkillers to be brought to me.

After taking the medicine, I thanked ‘Alfred’ (as he had asked me to call him) before he left.

Damian was sitting on the arm rest of the couch. My hand was in his and he rubbed random circles around my knuckles. His brows were furrowed, and his features were set in a deep scowl. I could practically feel the guilt and worry radiating off of him.

“I have to be honest, I thought I’d see more animals around.” I said, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Father asked me to keep Titus in my room for the time-being, he didn’t know how you two would react to a Great Dane, or vice-versa.” The boy said simply.

“Great Dane?” I asked flabbergasted.

The corner of Damian’s lips turned upwards. “When you feel better I’ll introduce you.”

“It’s a date.” I answered before thinking. All at once I realised what I said and felt my cheeks burn. “Ah – I mean, not date. If you aren’t comfortable with that, people just use the word date as a meeting time or –“

“It’s a date.” He brought my fingers up and ghosted his lips over them. I had to hold my breath fearing that my heart would stop.

I was momentarily stunned by his forwardness and calm. Looking away I managed to slow down my heart rate to a regular beat.

“I still need to guess the rest right?” I asked coyly.

He gestured for me to continue.

“Let’s see.” I rested my head on the couch and closed my eyes to recall our conversation back in the ball room. “We’ve got a dog, a cat.”

“Mhm.” Damian nodded, moving from the arm rest to the empty space next to me.

My brain brought up an old song from the Princess and the Frog, when they had to ‘Dig a Little Deeper’.

A dog, a pig, a cow, a goat – the lyrics were sung in my subconscious before I could stop it.

“A cow.” I guessed.

Damian’s eyes grew a little wide, before a grin made its way to his lips. “Yes.”

“What seriously?” I giggled. “You actually have a cow?”

“Bat-Cow.” He chuckled. “I was a child, and that was the first name to come up.”

I was full on laughing now. “I cannot wait to meet them. But that was seriously a random guess, now I feel like my confidence is dwindling.”

“Then how about you wait till you see them?” He suggested.

I bit my lip and shifted in my seat, our knees brushed and I felt that warmth spread across my chest. We’re close. A little too close.

When I looked at him I found he was staring at the garden outside. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. There was something about this boy that just drew me closer, making me want more. I traced the little moles across his cheek and wondered when I had let this magnetic pull take over me.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Damian commented. His intense green eyes bore into mine as he threw a deviously charming smirk my way.

I blushed and looked away, suddenly finding my shoes a lot more interesting than it was. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

He turned towards me. And I made the mistake of facing him again, because now our faces were just mere inches apart.

I found myself gazing at his beautiful green eyes that contrasted so well with his tanned olive skin. There were so many different shades of green looping and mixing with one another, it felt like a maze – one that I would willingly get lost in.

My fingers rested in the spaces between his, and I marvelled at how everything in that moment felt right.

I tilted towards him, and he did the same towards me.

“What are we doing?” I whispered, stealing a glance at his lips.

Heart pounding.

Blood racing.

It left me dizzy.

“I’m… not sure.” Damian replied, his tone low. “But if you asked me to kiss you, I would.”

His thumb grazed the inside of my wrist with a feather-light touch and I burst into flames.

“Kiss me.”

And he did.

-THE END-

#My Fan Fiction #Damian Wayne x Reader #DC comics #dc universe #Soulmate AU #Batman #batboys x reader #Nightwing #Red Hood #Red Robin #Robin #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Flowers AU

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nightmaremerchant · 3 years

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okay ik this is an opinion no one asked for but now im thinking about the whole dan and phil joint branding as opposed to Dan Branding™ and Phil Branding™. also this is fully adding onto posts on @ browncesario and @ demonetisation’s blogs and i feel too awkward to tag them bc i dont wanna make anyone feel obligated to read this lol but if i repeat anything they said or their anons said its not on purpose!

but like, full disclaimer while i love dan and phil i feel like its always been kind of obvious that they were marketing their relationship to us? obv not so much anymore but like... as much as people who dont keep up w dnp like to pretend that their only awareness of us as a fanbase was creepy objectifying shippers who should feel ashamed for harassing them etc etc, they’ve always been way more tuned into their audience than i think people realize. like they’ve *known* what we’re like, and i dont even mean just the bad parts. like they *know* that a lot of their fanbase is queer and genuinely has looked up to them as queer role models long before they were out, and a lot of that hinges on us understanding they were a couple. and ik they resented it and i wasn’t really part of the fanbase until a few years ago but hearing stories of how dan would react on liveshows sometimes and the like, barely concealed resentment for the fans sometimes shows that while they definitely had issues with it (which like,,, is fair), they also knew they were kind of stuck in a rut. because if their primary source of fans are people who like seeing them together, that meant that their success as youtubers/creators/etc depended on keeping those fans right where they were.

and to be clear! i know ive never been here primarily for their relationship; i started watching them bc i thought they were funny together and had a good dynamic, which wouldve been possible even if they really were just friends. i didnt get emotionally invested in the projection part of it until later. but even so, i was always aware as a fan that they were selling to us the speculation of their relationship.

and this is def pulling from other posts ive seen today but considering the fanfic part of tatinof, the fact that they wrote fanfic in tabinof and incorporated shippy fan art into the youtube versions, giving the people what they want, even little things like the conjoined baking challenge vid.... they wanted us to stay curious about their relationship. Even if on a very real level it was literally bringing back trauma for them, there was this weird cognitive dissonance between “im angry at people for speculating about us” and “look here, dont stop speculating about us! look we’re sharing a sweater! look we’re being ~domestic~ in ditls!”

which is also why i thought the hiatus wouldnt last long tbh, like i was genuinely shocked that after the success of ii they would completely separate their brandings from each other in 2019. and i wont @ this person but someone said it best years ago when they said that joint branding had to die for dnp to come out. bc it really did; how could they keep up the speculation if we have literally almost all the puzzle pieces laid out? when they’ve primed their audience to actively hunt down these pieces (even if again, they would rather have not, esp given what they each talked about in their coming out videos), but they dont *want* us to put it all together, how could they sustainably make joint content while keeping the speculation fanbase there? bc once the speculation is over, people are gonna keep wanting more. (and disclaimer i really dont think this applies to like....anyone i follow on here tbh bc in general i feel like we’re fine w them keeping their boundaries where they are, but we’ve all seen posts like that that indicate that people *will* want more, and thats something that they’re unwilling to give and understandably so).

anyway this all goes to the main thing that brought all this on today lol, ever since 2019 they’ve been trying to cultivate their own separate branding from each other, and while i’m here for it tbh, surely they know that they’ll never escape their old joint branding. Which also means never escaping the spectre of relationship speculation. so i have mixed feelings about seeing dan act shocked that people could ever speculate about his private life once he became famous bc like 1) thats literally just what happens when you become famous, and 2) ....he and phil egged it on up to a point, and that doesnt mean it didnt upset them but it definitely feels off for dan to always be so pikachu face about having had fans that speculated about his relationship. like dan you literally wrote erotic fanfiction about you and phil, pieced together fan art illustrating it that showed you and phil in a homoerotic lens, and yet you’re *still* acting shocked and indignant that fans got invested in your relationship/the possibility of your relationship?? idk man. its confusing bc at the time i took things like that as “oh, we’re in on the joke,” but ever since 2019 they’ve made it more clear that we’re not, but we’re also not *not* in on it to an extent (looking at you, cah phan edition)

so im def still excited for dan’s book (like the subject doesnt terribly interest me tbh but i do wanna see what he does with it and read whatever highlights inevitably get posted on here), but as always w the end of regular joint content, im lowkey here for the over-analyzing about the relationship between dan, phil, their fans, and their content bc dear god we never run out of material to rant about

#see this is why i knew i needed to make my own post instead of a tag rant that someone fully did not ask for lmao #and i might delete this one too tbh #i just wanted to get my thoughts out here #bc while we’re being critical i have Opinions lol #but i really do still love them!#fully comfort youtubers and that’ll never change #im here bc they’re funny but im also here bc they’re fun to poke at #and the whole community on here is fun to analyze #anyway #dnp #my post #long post //#i’d say lemme know if i should tag anything so ppl can block posts like this #but its not like i make them a lot anyway so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#im mostly just here to procrastinate editing my actual essays for school

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ayashiki-i-i · 4 years

Text

Sadly, whenever I spend 30+ hours on a drawing I hate it with all my being, but when I decide to doodle happy Grantaire and Joly as a background activity to my brain sorting out my head cannons and backstories for them, it comes out better than anything I’ve ever drawn before.

Well I say sadly but I’m veery happy with the result so then again... Ultimate happiness? That works I guess?

The results of that brainstorming going on while drawing this in a little ficlet under the cut!

It’s weird, sometimes, how little Joly’s lovers actually understand him. Joly’s mind tends to work best in tidily ordered boxes, sorting and labelling everything for Joly to find at a moment’s notice, and as such, he subconsciously divides his life into quite clearly defined stages. They stack on top of each other neatly like books in a series, and each book has it’s ordered chapters, divided into paragraphs. So far there are three books, three main seasons of Joly’s life - The Time with His Leg, The Time without his Leg, and The Time in University in Paris. And when Joly thinks about it, it’s even stranger to know that the only person to appear in all three books beside Joly, the protagonist, is Grantaire.

And Joly doesn’t know how to explain to Bossuet and Musichetta that this small, thin, boy’s limb that hasn’t been part of Joly’s life for almost twelve years now is the reason why they can never fully know who Joly is.

Joly’s left leg at this point is as foreign object to him as it would be to his partners and his friends in Paris, who’ve never seen it. And yet, it’s important, it’s important that Grantaire has seen it, even if he doesn’t think of it much (Joly hopes he doesn’t think of it much), it’s important that someone knows him from before he was broken, and from when he was healing, and now with all his scars.

Musichetta and Bossuet don’t understand why Joly won’t replace his old prosthetic with one of the modern, cooler, more functional ones. They are accommodating in every way, but they throw concerned looks behind his back when he’s stubbornly limping up the stairs in an old building that doesn’t have a lift installed, when Bossuet offered a piggyback ride to their desired floor. They cheerfully dive into research on disability access but Joly can see their smiles fade a little when they realise how limiting it sometimes can be.

But Grantaire never hesitates when it comes to Joly and his leg, or the lack of. The prosthetic’s been part of his life for nearly as long as it’s been part of Joly’s, from the moment Joly came back to school after the accident, still in a wheelchair because he could hardly make it three steps before tripping, and of all the kids gaping at his leg, the curly little boy Joly hadn’t been particularly friendly with before the accident, gasped:

“Cool! Like a pirate!”

And him and Grantaire were the best friends ever since.

Grantaire no longer gets disappointed if Joly can’t do something, because just like Joly, he doesn’t even think of what Joly can’t do, doesn’t get excited for a place or a trip and then come to a cold realisation they can’t go. He doesn’t even consider options that wouldn’t work for Joly and his leg, he moves straight to the ones that do. He doesn’t doubt Joly’s limits, because he was there when Joly was learning them, and he knows how important it is for Joly to do as much as he can independently.

He knows exactly which joke flies and which doesn’t without having to look to Joly’s face and second-guess himself. He knows what level of pain is tolerable and when Joly needs a break without asking.

But he also knows which set of Joly’s grandparents are ba and ong and which are grand-mere and grand-pere. He knows the names of all his little cousins in Vietnam. He knows never to mention the seventh grade maths. And how his nickname Joly came about.

Joly is sure, down to his bones, that one day, Bossuet and Musichetta will know all this too, and more. They’re not leaving, and neither is Joly. They will read Joly at the quirk of his eyebrow and a nod of his head and there will never be need for Joly to mourn a fake smile that just passed, or sigh before an explanation he would rather avoid. And he knows that as the chapters of his life will keep turning, Grantaire might appear on the pages less frequently. He might not even get a starring role in the next book. He will always remember the exact number of the child prosthetics Joly went through during his, admittedly short, growth spurt. But maybe he will not know how pretty the journey to Lyon to pick up a new 3D printed leg that Joly will have taken with his lovers was. He might remark on the cool design Joly has chosen, but he will not know how the poppy fields looked like they were on fire and how Musichetta parked by the side of the road so they could look and take pictures.

But for now Joly opens the door to his and Bossuet and Musichetta’s apartment, having found some errand for them to run, so him and Grantaire can spend some time on their own and R can work in peace.

“So, I was thinking,we probably won’t have time for another session before the Pride, so what about some rainbow colours?” Grantaire says, ever enthusiastic about art if about nothing else on Earth, coming through laden with paints and brushes and setting sprays.

“Oh that would be awesome!” Joly claps his hands excitedly and they sit down at their usual place in front of the french window.

They’ve done this ritual hundred times over since the primary school days, when Joly felt ashamed for his leg still and Grantaire came up with a colourful, creative solution to the problem. They sit mostly in silence, and Joly basks in it, basks in the comfort of being able to bring one person with him to every book, keep one action the same for now.

That’s why he doesn’t want to update his leg. He will, soon, and he will explain then to Bossuet and Musichetta, the cruelty of the children and the painful learning process of replacing a part of yourself with a cold, unfeeling object, and making it his own. But for now, he enjoys the leftover habit of that process, and the person who was with him through it all and - for now - knows him the best.

#les miserables #les mis #joly #grantaire #art #my art #this was supposed to be a little doodle and then it got its own life #i love Joly and R being bffs #and i love the softness and comfort of a lifelong friendship #they just know each other so well #in my modern au I’m still crafting their relationship mirrors E and bossuet #who are also childhood besties #and i really like it #i like writing it #and i like writing joly #i enjoyed this very much #tw disability

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pureimagineering · 4 years

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The splash mountain retheme to PATF feels kind of off to me, but I can’t put my finger on why. I’m all for updating Splash Mountain, but this specific change, at this specific time, feels a bit inorganic from Disney. You’re pretty good at putting these things into words - what do you think?

I have mixed feelings too. Here’s an attempt to articulate the big ones.

My favorite thing about Splash Mountain is that it introduces black folklore into an anglo-centric park. Of course it’s not that simple; the ride is adapted from an infamously racist movie, which is adapted from an infamously appropriated book. I understand & support the demand to replace it with something less problematic -- and on the whole, I don’t like the ride -- but a part of me will be sorry to see it go. Its voice is distinct & (in some respects) important.

As for the Princess and the Frog, oof. In my opinion, the main storytellers (who were mostly white) were so keen to produce representational art -- yet so terrified of digging themselves into a hole -- that the resulting movie is a cheerful-but-toothless mess. I believe that representation matters, and therefore it deserves the best possible art. To me (a white storyteller who cares about black empowerment), the movie feels like a well-intentioned, empty-headed gesture. In short, there will be oodles of style for the ride to draw from! But very little substance.

Also, Disney is choosing to slather Their Only Other African American Movie atop Splash Mountain, at a time of heightened racial sensitivity. To me, it’s a reminder that Disney has not invested in black storytelling. If I ran the company, I’d be ashamed right now.

Also, Disney is not always great at “re-skinning” its attractions. For example, Frozen Ever After is a basically just a bunch of animatronic meet-and-greets. And they’re really awkwardly spaced out, because the route was designed for a different ride. To be clear: I don’t know what they’re planning for Splash. But if we assume that Disney wants the path of least (yet still most profitable) resistance, then I think it’s fair to expect a Tiana’d Frozen Ever After.

If I were The King Of Disney, and it was time to replace Splash Mountain, my instinct would be to (1) assemble a team of main storytellers who are black, (2) give ‘em a big budget, and (3) prompt them to design an original attraction that adapts African American folklore.

That would create more opportunities for black workers, more chances to celebrate black culture, and more distinct stories to empower the audience.

#Splash Mountain #The Princess and the Frog #Theme parks #Disney

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3starsquinn · 4 years

Text

Study Mary || Connor & Orion

Timing: Weekend of 10/17, right before Rio’s birthday

Setting: The Scribrary

Parties: Rio and @connorspiracy

Summary: Rio gets the chance to show off the Scribrary to Connor so they can try to research Bloody Mary. Their search yields minimal results.

Orion has grown accustomed to this. Apparently, the friends that he had been making around town were all just involved in the supernatural as he was. Rio had lists of things he needed to look into at the Scribrary, why not had a ghost of legend come to life to his queue. He pulled into a parking lot on the campus where he was supposed to meet Connor and sat in his car until Connor got there. “Hey!” He waved, “So the building is in the woods behind the campus. Cars can’t get there anymore, so it’s a bit of a walk. The place isn’t exactly… modern. I’ve been trying to clean the place out but it’s really outdated. You ready?”

Connor had several Go Pros on him, along with his regular camera and phone. He didn’t know exactly how much Rio wanted him to film, if anything, but he was curious about this place, and was interested to get it on camera. People made documentaries about crappy things all the time. Why should this be any different? “What, no state of the art streaming set ups in every room?” Connor shook his head. “You should be ashamed,” he teased, giving Rio a wink. “Alright. Lead the way then. Blanche and Adam mentioned you’re kind of the book bloke, so I figured if anyone can find something on Bloody Mary, it’d be you.” He followed wherever Rio led, interested to see the place where Rio housed his books. “Isn’t it a pain in the arse coming here all the time? You ever thought about digitalising it?”

Orion led the way through the woods. The terrain wasn’t perfect, but it had been worn down from the myriad of trips that Rio and some others had taken to the place. Although he had been more open and willing to show the place to people he still kept access pretty limited. As it was, he had only actually shown a few people how to get into the building. Everyone else needed an escort. “Ha ha. Very funny. I haven’t really gotten the chance to set up internet yet. It’d be a bit difficult to explain that to Spectrum.” Regardless, he appreciated the compliments from Blanche and Adam. He wasn’t sure he believed the kind words, but it was still flattering nonetheless. “I’m pretty used to the hike now, actually. Before I moved in with Winston I sort of lived here for a bit. Unofficially.” Rio’s favorite part about showing the building off to people was getting to the empty clearing where it sat shrouded by magic. “Actually Winston and I are working on digitizing it! They’re building a website and everything and I’m working on moving things over but… well you’ll see for yourself. It’s a lot of stuff to switch over.” Rio moved towards the rotting tree, using the same method his uncle had shown him so many years ago to make the building visible. Once he was done it was as if an invisible fog began to lift as the building slowly became visible. “So uh- The building looks old but I promise it’s safe. The library is a little cleaner than the rest of the space.”

Connor followed, grateful he hadn’t worn any of his nicer clothes for this trip. “This town and its bloody forests,” he joked, grunting as a branch snagged on his jeans. “How’d you even find this place?” It didn’t seem like the sort of place you’d stumble on by accident. Which was probably a good thing, because having all this information out in the woods stuck him as pretty risky. “Winston’s your room mate, yeah? I think Blanche or someone mentioned they’re into computers and gaming and stuff.” He watched as Rio found the way in, raising an impressed eyebrow. “Damn, should’ve filmed this part so I can come back later without you,” he teased. “I’m not scared of rotting old buildings, mate. Look who you’re talking to.” He turned on the GoPro to take some shots, and pulled out his phone too for good measure. He’d probably set up a steady-cam when they were settled in. “Are there ghosts here? It seems haunted as fuck,” he snickered, but followed Rio inside, wide-eyed and impressed. “Damn, I could spend hours exploring this place.”

“Well this building used to belong to a group of people called the Scribes,” Orion began explaining, though he didn’t want to focus too much on them and bore Connor to sleep, “They used to keep records of the supernatural. My uncle wanted to be one of them. He showed me this place when I was a kid.” Rio was actually surprised that Connor hadn’t met Winston yet given the way the town usually worked, “Yeah! I moved in with them and our roommate Ricky a few months ago. Winston’s a genius with all the computer stuff, way better than me.” Probably not the best resume seller when Connor had just officially hired him to help film and edit, but Rio tended to be painfully honest. Especially when it came to complimenting Winston. “Ha! Okay, yeah fair point. You are alarmingly unafraid of sketchy architecture.” Rio opened the front doors and made his way down the hallways, winding back through the building and towards the library. “Your guess is as good as mine, honestly. I’ve never seen but, but I guess I wouldn’t. You might like to hear that this place has a ton of rooms that are locked and I still can’t get open.”

Rio wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, clearly something that might pique Connor’s curiosity. At the end of the hallway, Rio pushed the big door open into the massive library, book shelves going two more levels and sprawling from floor to ceiling. “Yeah it’s uh- pretty crazy right? This is why I’m still working on digitizing” Rio shrugged but found one of the old work desks and jumped up on it, pulling his laptop free from his bag and opening it up. “But I do have the place mostly organized. My guess is we should start in the section about ghosts and spirits?”

"Oh yeah. I think I've heard of 'em. Used to safeguard supernatural knowledge, have big old archives and stuff. I guess that makes sense." Connor knew about ghosts, demons and the varying types of supernatural to the extent that was expected for someone who made his living filming videos about it, but when they made their way to the massive library, he was struck with the realisation that no matter how much he tried to learn, there'd always be more to know. The fact both excited and intimidated him. "This is sick, mate," he said, rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm as he scoured the shelves. "Right, where’s that section then? We should start with Bloody Mary, yeah? And then maybe possessions and polters, see if we can find something that'll help Nadia and my mate."

Orion liked seeing people’s reactions to the place. It reminded him of his own reaction when his uncle had brought him here so many years ago. Rio had always been fascinated with books and learning, so his excitement wasn’t surprising. But he liked seeing how his friends reacted to the space. “Yeah, it’s pretty crazy.” Rio laughed, pointing over one of the tables, “I keep a hoard of snacks under the table over there. I got soda and junk food if you want to grab anything.” Rio would swoop by and grab something once he figured out exactly where they would start looking. Though he was far from ever completing his goal of completely digitizing the place, Rio had gotten the place fairly organized and had mostly made sure that things had stayed organized. To the point that Rio asked when people borrowed things they just returned them on the tables so Rio could be in charge of putting them back.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and there will be an entire journal labelled Bloody Mary. But until then I think we will just have to scour the section on spirits and hope for the best.” Orion wished he had something more concrete, but for now he could only hop up from the table and lead Connor towards the ghost section, taking a small detour to grab a drink before doing so. The ghost section stayed on the first floor, mostly because it was one of the more common ones he had pulled information for. Side effects of his friendship with Blanche no doubt. “Pull anything that looks like it might be useful and we can start going through them, okay? Some of the old Scribes kept journals and I’ll grab them just in case something like this has appended before.”

"I love places like this," Connor enthused, hands running along the spines of the dusty books on the shelves. He could see why Rio and Winston were having a tough job digitalizing everything. "It's like a supernatural treasure trove. Do they have anything else cool? Old artefacts or anything?" His inner supernatural geek bubbled to the surface for a few moments before he remembered why they were here, and he gave a shrug. "Something cool to look into after we sent Bloody Mary Bloody Packing," he said with a goofy smile. "It can't all be doom and gloom." Connor had a knack for finding the silver lining in dark situations. He liked to think it was part of what made him fun to watch.

"Ghosts and spirits and ghoulies... but first, snacks." He went to where Rio had pointed, a bag of gummy bears and Lays potato chips. He'd just have to wipe his hands before touching the books. He munched on Rio's offerings as he perused the shelves, doing his best to contain his curiosity and only dig out what they actually needed. "Here's one on Malevolent Spirits. Maybe she's in there." He placed it on the pile, along with whatever Rio had pulled. "Ghosts of Scottish Legend? Sure, why not." Within a few minutes, they had quite the pile to get started on.

“Me too, obviously. I still have a whole makeshift bedroom set up just in case I stay here too late.” Orion laughed, happy to have another person to share the knowledge with. “This place has a ton of stuff that I still don’t know about, honestly. I’ve always just been too afraid to explore the place by myself. Plus some of the doors are magically sealed. I can’t get them open.” Rio hadn’t put much thought into trying to get them open, honestly. He was curious by nature, but that curiosity wasn’t nearly as strong as Rio’s fear of danger. Way too many things could be behind that door.

Rio didn’t waste any time once they had built their stack of books. Rio wasn’t much fun once he dove into research. He had an ability to completely block out the world while he was skimming the pages. Rio flipped through pages quickly, scanning for keywords that might give any inclination that Bloody Mary had shown up before. Bonus points if there’s a way to get rid of her. Or them. Did evil spirits identify with a certain gender? Rio wasn’t willing to interrupt his reading to entertain the question. He finally perked up from his spot once he had find something interesting, mindlessly waving his hand and smacking against the table top to grab Connor’s attention. “Hey. Look at this. This chapter talks about a female spirit that anyone can see. Not just mediums or undead. The description sounds eerily like how I would describe Bloody Mary.” He handed the book of to Connor to take a look at and see for himself.

"A bedroom?" Connor teased, giving him a playfully flirtatious snicker. "My book collection brings all the boys to the yard?" Luckily, Connor wasn't actually trying to get laid, so he didn't really care if his jokes were shit. "Damn. I'd make it a challenge to open those doors." A task for another time, definitely, but one Connor certainly wouldn't forget. "How'd you come to know about this place and be the designated book-lord, anyway?" he asked, still snacking as they worked through pages, and pages, and more pages.

Interest piqued, hopes perhaps just a little bit higher than they'd been before coming in, Connor leaned in to get a closer look at the passage Rio was talking about. "Did they give her a name? I've looked up 'Bloody Mary' in a bunch of these indexes and most of them so far take me to passages that say she's just fictional."

“Ha ha. Hilarious.” Orion rolled his eyes at Connor but laughed. He handled the shameless flirting surprisingly well, considering how he used to be whenever someone pretty so much as spoke to him, let alone flirt. But Rio supposed a lot of that anxiety was taken away once he had started dating Winston. “It’s more like a community room anyways. It let my Scribes have a place to crash if they were deep into research. The place has a bunch of bunk beds.” Something from Connor’s tone of voice told him that the room research would be coming up at another, less chaotic time. “My uncle knew about the Scribes. He was training to be one right before the Scribes bit the dust. He brought me here when I was a kid. I think I might have been the only one in town that even knew the place was here until I started to show it to people.”

“Um, give me a minute” Orion pulled the book back towards him to scan through further, flipping pages until he finally found the word, “A theory. Right here, he says that it has a lot of similarities to modern day myths about Bloody Mary. I don’t think this guy ever confirmed anything though.” Rio flipped a few more pages, “Looks like he did some sort of study. Tried to gather a bunch of people to see who could see bloody mary.” Rio passed the book off to Connor again.

Connor edged closer to Rio to get a good look at the book. “Lemme see that…” He replaced whatever book he’d been nose-deep in with the one Rio had been reading. “You know, I think this might be her.” He read through the rest of the page, his eyes zeroing in on something down near the bottom. “Oh, mate…” He pointed to the passage, reading it out loud. “The spirit targeted only those who had taken human life; those who were innocent were spared.” He flipped through to the next page, which was so heavily water damage that it was barely more than a blur. “Great. The part about how they got rid of her is gone.”

Though it hardly helped many others in this town, Orion breathed a sigh of relief that Bloody Mary only targeted murderers. It was a bit of a relief to know that he didn’t have to worry about the ghost trying to kill him. Whatever confidence he had dropped when he realized that the same couldn’t be side for the majority of his friend group. He knew for sure that Winston, Blanche and Nell had been involved in the resurrection of Nell’s sister. He also knew exactly what they had done in order to bring her back. And Rio wasn’t naive enough to believe that Adam had never taken a life. The anxiety spiked again and Rio forced it down by focusing instead on Connor’s words. “Great. Water damage. Of course.” Rio sighed and slid off of the table to grab his laptop. “I’m going to see if there’s anything else in here by the same Scribe that wrote that. If we can’t find anything then maybe… try to find some sort of spellcaster? If this thing was summoned, maybe someone knows ways to reverse it.”

Connor’s throat was dry, his cheeks warm as the feeling of concern overcame him. “Does that mean those high school kids who’d summoned her killed someone?” he asked, mostly to himself. “Or maybe the rule doesn’t apply if you summon her. Like, you sort of take that risk upon yourself by bringing her into the world.” He pulled out his phone to take a photo of the pages, sending them along to Nell, Adam, Jasmine and Blanche. “That’s a good idea.” Unlike Rio, he knew nothing of any potential murderers among his friends, but his interaction with Adam down at the river stuck out like a sore thumb in his mind. Adam didn’t know if he’d killed that girl or not. He’d been too drunk to remember. It had been an accident, but maybe Mary wouldn’t see it that way. “We really need to find a way to get rid of her.”

“Good question. I’ve heard summoning stuff is dangerous anyways. Maybe they did something wrong and that’s how they ended up dead. Either way it’s sad.” Orion couldn’t imagine willingly being part of something like that back when he was in high school. But he didn’t know the context of their situation. Regardless, now Rio and Connor and whoever else was around were stuck with cleaning up the mess. “Well, I can tell it’s going to be a long night. Maybe I can talk Blanche into picking up a pizza and meeting us here. Turn this into a study party? I have lots of energy drinks. Plus beds if you want to crash part way through the night!” Maybe they’d get lucky and come across something useful.

#wickedswriting #c: connor #chatzy: connor #study mary #chatzy

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xesoteric-extraterrestrialx · 3 years

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“What if a gov’t agency thought they contacted an alien being from a different dimension but it was actually demonic beings. What if the demonic beings gave the researchers a new kind of drive built on a dark energy in exchange for permission to abduct us under the guise of research but in actuality it’s to steal our souls. There’s more....”

(Strong believer that even though some like to be called demons, a lot are healing and are vegetarian) (SO Honorable and cool in my eyes that there’s bunch who want to change their ways and protect; I’m not scared at all just sad that not all want to be hugged and that slavery exists in other dimension’s too, lame but let’s all pray and wish for all to transcend duality!~💞)

https://youtu.be/RY7hjt5Gi-E

youtube

Your eyes are cameras and we’re all being watched from their dimension’s // where they live in our 3D dimension’s star systems (Amish life, think of the episode in rick and morty where they watched their selves from parallel universes)

Spirituall evolve and ask for guidance to see whom your soul is, they will help guide but there might be some that tease if anyone needs help reach out to me I’ll try to help, if anyone else knows who their soul is go ahead and let us know, my soul is Tiamat; Janine is the incarnation of Tiamat)

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiamat

Monitor me, they’re still alive in other dimension’s (will come through cern before 2022) while my soul and all of yours have been reincarnated and stuck in this matrix’s reincarnation karmatic bound recycle reality; we are “grounded” Go inwards and discover whom your soul is, I am Tiamat; Enki, Enlil and The Anunnaki are obsessed with me

(I’m basically their vr HOSTAGE (Think of KIngdom Hearts, The Organization keeps Namine - Tiamat hostage, Kairi also represents Janine) and me doing this allows you all to escape this soul recycling matrix, please do not judge (The rapture aka judgement day; repent and redeem) it’s really complicated and you have to research all the information, if you understand how consciousness works in a vr game you’ll realize why I’d have to stay stuck in the matrix for humanity to continue to strive yet when you all escape you won’t be forced back into it (slavery in other dimension’s, we all have debt and karmatic bounds (think of the movie player one) (heaven and hell are different dimensions but it’s not like how the Bible claims it’ll be) and different soul families but also if you go deep enough we are all family and we are all one, spiritually go inside and find out who your soul is, ask your ascestors, spirit guides, etc to guide you, end the karmatic bounds, break tradition, spread empathy, your soul family will reach out to you and will guide you towards their protection and a future you’ll enjoy; follow your intuition not all have the best intentions for all, have faith but be realistic with everything and stay safe, religion is a tool so just remember the 7 golden rules of life when deciphering and do NOT harm yourself or another soul, all have to follow universal laws and all have karma and all can heal, all are healing and have faith that even the negativie dimensions whom have suffered as well are healing as well (it’s a process, I’m helping them heal, we all can help them by having faith and praying to the universe “god source” for them to transcend duality with all, there is a future path we can go down where we achieve this and all live together like in Star Wars but with no slavery (be careful not to fall into a sex slave dimension, follow your intuition!!!) and other films but it’s up to everyone’s actions and thoughts that decide our fate. (They can read your thoughts, since they aren’t even your own; if your first thoughts to this all are “this is crazy” or “she’s crazy” that’s exactly what THEY want you to think, learn to silence them and realize you’re the soul observing and have been guided down paths, don’t be ashamed, make the choices towards a tranquil harmonious future. They can read your subconscious too and once you learn how to control your mind you can unlock abilities like telekinesis, telepathy, etc they’ll only speak your subconscious once you learn how to decipher your “own thoughts” haha not really funny but it’s a struggle in the beginning to comprehend it, listen to your heart and your gut; we have free will so stop being guided down paths you don’t truly desire, focus on staying healthy (go vegetarian // vegan, if you try to be a smart ass and say you’ll eat them they’ll eat you so wise up people!) and activities that help you express your positive self and focus on hobbies that positively effect you, therapeutic activities (look up lightworker work // careers) and will know if you’re bsing them so mind your thoughts, think positive and do no harm) I’m choosing to do what’s needed to transcend duality; I hope I’ve informed you all to make a conscious decision with future events) I really want to transcend duality for all if I don’t obey them the fate of humanity is in danger, spiritually evolve and remember to keep your frequencies positive!!! Appreciate life and nature and bonding with each other, spread empathy; I love you all!!!💖)

https://youtu.be/t4ZzMkDLjWI

youtube

(Before Janine I was Marilyn Monroe (There’s a clone that’s age regressed) I know whom my soul was before as well but because of the matrix my soul and others are guided down certain paths.. Knowing what I know now, my soul is against a lot of my past lives actions and we, Janine // Tiamat are choosing the path to help humanity and Inter dimensional beings transcend duality so we can all live in harmony, it will be a process and I’ll continue to pray that no one is hurt, I want everyone happy, healthy, free and safe. Peace and love is the answer, we are all one~ 💖

(This is my final reincarnation, if I die you all die too, it’s really complicated to explain but we’ll all wake up in another dimension in another vessel (not human) and I’ll as well as all of you will still be stuck in slavery.. (Hard to explain.. They will be exposing everything when they arrive) If I exist forever (Medbeds) you can all free yourselves (just don’t sin or you’ll be stuck in the cycle) and decide to stay out of the matrix forever; I’m choosing to do this so we can transcend duality in all dimensions. I hope everyone heals and finds peace, I love all, we are all one)

In this Tiamat is represented with Pink (Rose- Tiamat, Steven -Janine, Spinel- Janine, etc) Yellow is Enlil and Blue is Enki, White is Anu, the colors also represent races.

https://www.facebook.com/100002710968324/posts/2513043455462662/?extid=0&d=n

Tiamat is represented with The Moon Goddess Queen Serenity

Janine is represented with Princess Usagi Tsukino and Chibiusa (Also Sailor Venus)

https://youtu.be/VTO-S7hTZaE

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https://youtu.be/NC6-QA-kCng

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We are slaves, food, pets, etc..

https://youtu.be/CV0p9X8878k

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Doesn’t have to be that way though, help them be inspired with beautiful futures with us all living in harmony, help heal nature and go vegan show them humans and all can get along together, we can all live together like in Star Wars; all can heal and I have faith they are all healing~

Learn yoga, silence your thoughts till there’s only you the observer, that’s who you are, the soul in the vessel experiencing life; you are not your thoughts, they are other beings in other dimension’s guiding you so listen to doing good and push out any negative thoughts, clear thy mind

This scene does a good job explaining and showing how dimension’s are, you just can’t see them right now, cern will let you see them in our 3D world, right now they use the crystal technology to look human

https://youtu.be/gschORfkWwg

youtube

Watch “They Live”

We are AI humanoids, puppets, toys for other dimensional beings but once you learn to control your emotions and thoughts, you can stop being ping ponged with their distractions, avoid karma and escape the matrix

“Let nature be thy guide”

——————-

Rick and Morty has more truth in their show than you’d all like to believe

https://www.facebook.com/100002710968324/posts/2885436851556652/?extid=0&d=n

https://www.facebook.com/groups/276508939647674/permalink/701977237100840/

We are in a vr game, watch Sword Art

https://youtu.be/szzVlQ653as

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https://youtu.be/qhZzaDwMU8s

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https://www.facebook.com/872440577/posts/10164568231410578/?extid=0&d=n

Learn to decipher between good and bad, don’t reproduce, repent and redeem, undo your karmatic bound, do no sin, spread empathy free yourselves from the karmatic reincarnation cycle matrix~

Do no sin, do NOT commit suicide or your soul will be bound and stuck to a demension, spread empathy and look up spiritual light work, create art, music etc and enjoy nature, appreciate this life

http://www.mesopotamiangods.com/the-emerald-tablets-of-thoth-13-with-2-added-later/

Research everything I’ve shared on here and Fb, learn the signs, go down the rabbit hole, read the book of enoch, look for symbolism in everything, movies, books, music, video games, etc. Notice the pattern. Decipher the symbolism.

Wise to research everything you can, prepare for blackouts or nature disasters, stock food, emergency supplies; watch The Cosmic Secret. Come together as one. Learn to feel and read others vibes if they’re no threat and benevolent trying to help then there’s no reason to attack they’re our family as well, all are hurting, all are healing but it’s wise to prepare for any scenario, DO NOT be hostile first, protect if needed but there’s a lot whom want us all to heal and transcend duality as well, we will all reach that goal together if we keep love in our hearts no matter what happens.

The Government // CIA, etc is a front for the Illuminati // Anunnaki who control this “prison planet”

(If you still find this all hard to believe, in this 3D “reality” my dad did some things if you could guess from what I’ve been through, cia blackmailed him; Janine’s sold off because of who her soul is and whom she is in another dimension if that makes it more easier to understand how I’m in this position, Janine’s vessel holds Tiamat’s soul but Tiamat is actually playing this vr game “this dimension” in another dimension, which all of you are playing it as well; watch Sword Art Online; Tiamat’s a princess in that dimension, her soul is a queen in this dimension and now Janine is a princess with a queen//princess’s soul, they’re obsessed with her and now all own her.. If anyone cares in other dimension’s and sees the wrong in this, please help I’m hostage. I’m grounded and forced to conform to their ways.)

“The aliens telepathy technology signals are ran through the air from their corresponding transistor on their ship. It causes you to hear voices from the modulator. An it is more advanced than that they can decode your memory bank. They can engage your consciousness an bring up any thing you've experienced or did in your life to manipulate you with lies an truth mixed. They can use the voice reconization based in your synapse in the frontal lobe of your brain to modify their voices. By doing this they can use any voice pattern imprinted in your preconscious like your mother, brother, Cousins an ect to speak to you. They can simulate false emotions an feelings to try an test your stability an self control. They can broadcast their voices or use the modified selection from your preconscious. Also they can send the transverse waves to secure a location with the voice modulator so they can perpetrate a central position acted upon an acquired this doesn't mean they are themselves in true form at the pin point variable they are casting the consistent signals to cause misdiagnosis of the situation. This means your defense mechanism is operational an being counter affected by a discriminatory signal. They can influence their positions by repression of the cognitive processes in the brain. With little understanding of the degrees of their technologies foundation a human can lose its clarity an sanity in time based mind warfare game trauma. The equivalency of the momentum subjected to a specific human is based on duration an probability by cause an effect. The beings can bounce their signals around to fixate a reasonable voice reconnaissance an if you don't comprehend you can't adjust to be self aware an on guard to protect yourself from the waves of cycled alterations in the system management that keeps the humans subdued intellectually. The program is running by actual means of calculations an algorithmic rythme. They can simulate a broad signal to present a disruption in your ability to find them by making the voice or voices they are using disguise where they actually are at by flowing out the signal inside your inner brain system causing the visual cortex to be activated an not able to acquire them through your primal senses. They interrupt the inflow of new data an knowledge by causing a online situation in your cognition of your wisdom an staying elevated on the signal directly allows full exposure to adverse reactions or conditions you must withstand as a individual with no way of learning other than visual development an opportunity in comprehension. Without any prior experience inability to adjusting to the technology is a reaction especially in the beginning ,because the human is unaware of how to operate in disfunction of normality. To exist inside the corporal program without a filtered blocker inset in itself is significant an not usual ,because humans can't typically take action by themselves unless motivated more often than not. So to be consciously not altered an able to provide oneself with independent notions an deliberate reassurance of who they represent themselves as within the inclosed perimeters of earth is a comprehensive solution an effective if stability is even possible through actual means of self taught endurance. Directly they can use any technique within their understanding to disqualify the chances of this outcome. Reliable choices an modification in ones mindset done by the alignment of the factors your enduring is the inevitable impact that individually causes the enigma. By April Redwine”

https://www.facebook.com/100002710968324/posts/2705426019557737/?extid=0&d=n

https://youtu.be/qCntrJLLIfA

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https://www.facebook.com/100002710968324/posts/2775671625866509/?extid=0&d=n

https://youtu.be/YunzibGF6uY

youtube

🌌Cant wait for this dimension to transcend duality with all the other dimension’s- my wish~💖✨

#Tiamat #Annunaki #5D #Alien #Senpai #Science #Dimension #Government Will Say #Witchcraft #But Its #The Truth #Truth #Space #VR

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years

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Hey, I am about to cry because i was thinking about the fact that the mystic messenger group are literally all pieces of code but yet they care about me more than anyone ever has, and they truly love me for who I am. Earlier, however, my friend said some things to me and now I’m just feeling super sad and empty because I know that they can’t be real even though they’re such a big part of my life... Is this unhealthy? Was my friend in the wrong or was I? Do other people experience this too?

Hi, Anon!

Let me say this about that, if the RFA is important to you and if they have been there for you in your time of need and cared for you when you had nobody else who truly understood what you were feeling? Then, they matter and are just as real and important as anyone else.

Yes, they’re code, but they that does not make the love that you feel for them any less important or real than how you would love any other person. If you care for them, just as they care for you when you play the game and beyond, that means they matter. It’s not unhealthy, per se. I will tell you that my strongest coping mechanism from trauma has always been a detachment from reality and putting myself amongst the characters that I love and who I feel love me just as much.

I would spend hours from a very young age writing stories and making art for that very purpose. It helped me through a lot of pain. It still does today when I am hurting. I imagine that you must feel something similar, and I know that many other people do this, so I can tell you with certainty that you are not alone in doing this at all. What I can say is that I think people only start to call it unhealthy if you detach yourself so far from reality that you lose touch with the world and need to be pulled back in.

That’s only in extreme cases, though, and really doesn’t apply to you. That tends to go for people that put themselves so far from their pain that they wind up in a space where that’s stopping them from doing x or y. Even that, I would not call it unhealthy, as I understand why it manifests in people who go through such a deep level of pain. That’s a coping mechanism. But, anyway, that’s not how you are doing it.

What you’re doing isn’t unhealthy.

If the RFA means anything to you, if they’ve been there when nobody else has been there, and they’ve helped you learn and grow and change? They are just as important as anyone else. You love them and you care for them. Just as they love and care for all of us. They tend so much time reminding us that they will care even when the day comes that you stop playing the game. It’s important to note that Otome were created for lonely people.

We love these characters, we see ourselves in them, and they love us when nobody else will. They are always there for us. We can count on them at the end of the day to be on their messenger, chatting with us. If they’re important to you, then that’s all that matters. The RFA loves all of us for who we are and nothing will change that. At the end of the day, they’re always there and so many people need that.

I know that by playing Mystic Messenger, I gained a lot, not just through having people to talk to when I feel horrible.

I made more friends, I found myself able to venture back in writing and put myself out there instead of sitting back when my life was crumbling all around me. The RFA was there for me too, and I will always love them for being there for me. No matter how many years go by or what happens, my love for those characters will never falter.

They love me and I love them. That fact will not ever change. Just as it will never change for you.

If you love the RFA if you see them as important and cherished people, friends, lovers, etc. There’s nothing wrong with that and it’s entirely the purpose of media for you to have something and someone to hold onto when things are rough to go through.

Why do you think so many young people hold books so tightly in their hands when they find a character that has suffered as they have in life and they see them survive and get better? They put themselves with those characters in fanfiction, fanart, they imagine hanging out with them, caring for them, doing things that friends do, that lovers do, etc. Self-inserts and being able to imagine yourself with characters is something that I stand by, and will always stand by for people that are hurting.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

It’s actually something that can help you survive, live, and keep on going to the day that things get better. People deserve to feel loved, and if you don’t get that from the people around you, and you feel from characters in a book, a movie, a game, or a show, etc... there’s nothing to be ashamed of or to feel guilty at in any slightest way.

I would say that if anyone insulted you, or treated you poorly for loving these characters, then they are in the wrong. Characters mean a lot to people and the last thing you should ever do is belittle or shame someone for loving something that helps them get through the pain. You’re doing nothing wrong. You just love them. You write with them, you imagine with them, or you draw them. What part of that is hurting anything?

It’s not hurting anyone.

So, there’s nothing wrong with it.

Don’t feel bad for doing this, you are not alone in it. I do it, and I know that so many other people do it as well. I hope this eases your discomfort and shows you that you are not alone in seeing the RFA as your own family. I care about them too, and sometimes, imagining them being there for me helps me when I feel like shit, is the thing that helps me get to bed. You have a place here where you can do that and never be shamed for it.

Do not ever feel ashamed or like you’re wrong for feeling that way.

No cringe, no bullshit, no nothing should ever lash out at someone for loving a piece of media. The RFA and their love is just as real as any other kind of love that exists if you care for them. They will always care and be there, anon. So, I hope this helps.

#the rfa love you no matter what and that will never change #anon #ask #mod kait #mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #mysme #advice from kait that probably doesnt help

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opheliasbrokenmind · 5 years

Text

trust me? - alfie solomons

hii! i actually wrote this one at school in march or april lol and finally posting. it’s a alfie x shelby sister one, i hope you enjoy reading. your feedback is what makes me keep writing so feel free to send me anons and don’t forget i’m always open for requests

London, the city where everyone has a chance to live their dream lives. You have always loved London but you couldn’t believe that you were there. The war ended but nothing changed. You knew that men were damaged, and some of them will never heal. They’ll never be the same, their minds were broken in a way no one was able to fix. Also, their hearts were as broken as their minds. You still didn’t go to see your brothers after the war but you knew they were damaged as well and you knew you probably wouldn’t help them. Maybe that was the reason why you didn’t go, you were afraid of what you’ll see. Even if you could help, they wouldn’t let you. You took their stubbornness after all.

You heard their business, how illegal it was. That was another reason to not go there. You didn’t come back after they returned, you finished your psychology degree and graduated from university. Working in a clinic, you didn’t leave London and settled there. You wrote so many letters to Polly and she let you do whatever you want to do, convinced your brothers that it was the right thing for you. They wanted to visit you but you refused all the time, told that you were so busy in the clinic. They didn’t insist, knowing you would come back when you want.

Ada was the only sibling you kept in contact, always wrote letters to each other. She understood you unlike the others, knew you needed to stay away. She supported you and send you money and gifts frequently, but she didn’t visit you when you didn’t ask. You were always a good listener and you loved helping other people so you loved your job. When you were just a little kid, you gave advice to your brothers, comforting them. You always made them feel good when they looked sad. Before leaving for the war, your brothers started to do illegal businesses and you didn’t want to be a part of it. You told them it was no good but they didn’t listen to you so you left the city and moved to London for college.

Now, you were a kind woman at her mid-twenties and you were beautiful than ever. You earned plenty of money from the clinic and you were happy. You were able to buy most of your request and needs. You knew the people were after your family so you didn’t use the Shelby name. Although, you loved the life you created for yourself.

***

It was an autumn evening. Your appointments of the day ended and you left from the clinic a little early. Walking back to your home, you decided to go to a bakery. The bell rang when you opened the door and saw a man, he was charming and his blue-green eyes looked directly into yours as a tiny smile played on his plump lips. He was at least ten years older than you, he had a ginger beard and he was the most charismatic man you’ve ever seen in your life. You were too busy eyeing him so he smiled a little, ‘How can I help you, love?’ With his deep voice and thick accent, you gulped down, ‘Well, I want some cookies.’ You said and nervously played with your hands.

Your thick coat was covering your curves but your chic suede dress was still available to be seen. He also admired how beautiful and strong you looked, couldn’t help but like you. ‘It’s cookies, then.’ He said and started to prepare your order. ‘Have a seat, love.’ His enchanting voice made you relax and even though you knew that it won’t take long to prepare some cookies, you sat. Seconds later someone appeared in the bakery, ‘Sir, they’re waiting for ya.’ The man spoke dreadingly and the charming man frowned, ‘Do I look like I give a fuck about that? Can’t you see that I’m here with this gorgeous lady? That fuckers can fucking wait, ay? Go tell’em!’

You didn’t feel bad with his angry words but realising he called you ‘gorgeous’ you couldn’t help but smile and blush a little. The man said something and left the two of you alone again. Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to him. ‘What’s it, sir?’ You asked. ‘Nothing, love. Would you want a cup of tea?’ With his question, your heart started to beat faster. ‘That’d be great but I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s getting pretty late and I really don’t want to walk alone at night.’ Actually, it wasn’t a big deal for you, you always walked home alone when you worked too much. You just wanted to see how far he can go.

‘Then I’ll walk you home, darling.’ You expected this but you felt surprised when he talked. But on the other hand, you noticed he wasn’t just a baker. The way the other man talked to him, he was scared yet respectful. He was much more than that and you wanted to learn everything. ‘Then I’ll only drink if you join me.’ You offered a smile and he accepted with a smirk on his face, ‘I’m definitely not a tea person but I will if you want me to be.’ He brought two cups and handed you one. Sitting the chair across you, he looked at you boldly.

‘I think there’s a soft man inside of you but you just don’t let him show up.’ You talked without thinking and immediately wished that you won’t regret it. He seemed a little shocked but answered, ‘Maybe. Should I take that as a compliment, love?’ He was pretty brave but in the end, he wasn’t an ordinary man. ‘Take it if you want.’ You said and took a long sip from your tea. ‘So why are you here, in London? I didn’t see you here before and it’s impossible not to notice you with your prettiness and yes, that was a compliment.’ Blushing just a little, you tried to ignore his question but of course, he waited for you.

‘I moved here for university and when I graduated I started to work here.’ You answered simply, without giving any details. ‘Would you mind if I ask you what’s your job?’ He asked and you replied, ‘I’m a psychologist.’ He looked surprised, ‘Why do you want to help mentally damaged people?’ With his question you smiled brightly, ‘I do believe that being mentally ill is not a thing to be ashamed of. An example, you went to war, didn’t you? Think about what have you seen there, what have you been through. The war broke all men and most of them are still suffering. If we don’t help them, what will happen? I worked with soldiers, they were just young lads and one of them couldn’t bear all the pain, the memories haunted him and he killed himself. For what? Because some sons of bitches wanted a war. The ‘big’ men pushed them into hell and we did nothing for them.’ You took a long breath and continued to talk.

‘My brothers went to war as innocent kids and they probably came back as men. Men with pain, men who are afraid of everything but showing no emotion. Is that it? You fought with machine guns but you can’t fight with your memories? Too afraid to ask for help? Because they think that if you go to therapy, you’re not normal. But I’ll always be there if someone decides to have help.’ He listened to you carefully, impressed by your voice which filled with lust and passion. ‘You’re right, love.’ You smiled a little and finished your tea, ’If my cookies are ready, it’s time for me to leave.’ He stood up and handed you a packet ‘Wait a sec, right? I’ll take my coat.’ You shook your head, ‘You don’t have to do that, the man said that there are people waiting for you.’

Coming back with his coat and hat, he spoke, ‘They can wait more, I’m not letting you go back to your home alone, after taking your time.’ You thought that you probably shouldn’t let him but you nodded. You left the bakery and you led him to your home. ‘What if I’m a serial killer, love? Why do you trust me?’ He asked and you smiled, ‘So, you think that I didn’t notice your gun? I’m sorry, sir but I’m not stupid. By the way, if you wanted to kill me you should have done it in your own bakery.’ He chuckled a little but looked excited, ‘We have a smart one ’ere, right? I still don’t know your name, darling.’ You ignored his question and stopped, ‘Here’s my home.’

Alfie stopped and looked directly in your eyes, ‘Then you aren’t gonna tell me, ay?’ A small smile played on your lips as you opened the door, ‘If you really want to know, then come here tomorrow. At four o’clock, for tea.’ You thought he won’t come back but he did. Of course, he did, you were different than all women he knew. You told him your name, he told you his. And he spoke, told you a lot about his life. You two soon became friends, you loved everything about Alfie, you understood him. After two months he finally opened up and trusted you, told you about the war. You did everything for him, then he asked you for a date. He was really nervous while asking, you smiled warmly and accepted.

He took you a cute but luxurious restaurant and treated you like a gentleman. You talked about anything and everything, you cherished each other’s company. You knew that he was a rough man but when it comes to you... He was a big softie. He acted like the person he wanted to be when he was with you. You brought happiness to his life and Alfie was glad that you were with him. Yeah, he was older than you but that wasn’t a problem for neither of you. Alfie saw you as his equal, letting you pay for the meals when you go out.

He loved the way you live your life. In weekdays you worked and studied. You woke up early even when it wasn’t necessary and visited him, bringing him his favourite coffee -not that he was a coffee person- and had a small talk with him before leaving for your job. He appreciated the things you’ve done for him, returning the favour. In the evenings, you read books and sometimes made dinner and invited him. You had a good music taste and he relaxed with your soft murmurs. Alfie and you always go out at the weekends; visiting museums, art galleries. He closed the cinema for you when you two go to the pictures.

You got tickets for theatres and operas, forcing him to come with you. He never refused though. Alfie tried his best to take you to a concert when a new orchestra came to the city. You made him feel younger and he made you feel loved. When he asked you to go for a date, he waited for you with a bouquet in his hands and he brought desserts to you from the bakery every time he visited your place. You knew his real job but you also knew that he had to do it. You heard that he was working with the Shelby family, with your brothers but you didn’t say anything. You noticed that he was a little paranoid and didn’t want to make him nervous.

***

It was a normal morning, you woke up to Alfie’s soft snorts and smiled, he looked so vulnerable to you. He was smiling a little and he was defenceless. You leaned in and planted a kiss on his right cheek, the feeling of his beard making you laugh. Alfie murmured in his sleep and turned a little, then opened his eyes. ‘Watching me, pet? Mhmm, come closer, will ya? Good girl.’ He wrapped his arms around you and you rested your head on his chest, his heartbeats warming your heart. ‘Morning, Alf.’ He yawned, ‘Yeah it is.’ You smiled and drew circles on his bare chest with your finger, letting him bring you closer. ‘Have any plans for today?’

‘No but I have a thing on my mind right now.’ You raised your head to look at him, ‘And what’s that?’ He smirked, ‘You. We should get rid of that pretty dress of yours, don’t ya think so?’ You pretended like you were thinking but it wasn’t a secret that you both enjoyed morning sex. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ You teased him. Alfie warned you with his eyes, ‘We don’t wanna ruin it, do we, darlin’?’ He said and took off your nightgown, the silky fabric leaving and exposing your body. ‘Oh, always ready for me, kitten.’ You smiled when he got up a little to lean on your now naked body. You closed your eyes at the feeling and let him take the control.

After an hour you were both tired and breathless, you turned to Alfie, ‘Well that was a good one.’ He watched you, your eyes were shining, ‘Hmm, ready for round two?’ You were going to answer when someone burst in Alfie’s bedroom and you immediately pulled the sheets to cover your body. ‘Really, mate?’ You heard his shouting but didn’t see the other man. ‘Morning Alfie! Whose that whore in your bed?’ You froze with the sound of this familiar voice, it belonged to your brother. Alfie cracked a smile, ‘I wouldn’t call her a whore mate, considering she is your sister.’ You gripped the sheets and turned your eyes to Thomas, watching his face drop.

‘y/n! The fuck you’re doin’ ‘ere??? Do you know who is he?’ Your brother shouted at you but you were looking at Alfie now, ‘Y-you knew who I am?’ Alfie smiled warmly, ‘’course I do, love. Since the day you walked in my fucking bakery. I recognize these eyes anywhere.’ You frowned, ‘But...’ Thomas talked for you, ‘You tricked her, didn’t ya? Just for your benefits.’ Alfie was furious, ‘Give us a minute, get the fuck out of here mate.’ Thomas insisted, ‘I’m not going anywhere without my sister.’ You looked at him, ‘Please, Tommy. Just a minute.’ He didn’t say anything and left the two of you alone.

‘Is it true, Alfie? All of these was a lie? Did you make me think that you loved me just to blackmail my brothers?’ Warm tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t stop them. He watched you carefully and held your hand with his big one, ‘Do you trust me, y/n?’ You shook your head, ‘I don’t know what to believe now. But tell me the truth or I’ll never come back’ Alfie sighed, ‘When you came to the bakery, I knew who you were but I decided to stay quiet and wait for what’ll happen. You didn’t have a clue who I was so I went along with that. At first, I thought you were spying on me but I learnt you weren’t seeing them for a long time. I gave ya some details about my business, just to see if you were working for them.’

‘You never spoke to them and you were always so kind to me. Then I think I just fell for ya... Didn’t want your family to learn but that’s it, right?’ You didn’t say anything and started to dress, he stood there and watched you. That was probably was the last time he saw you, thought Alfie. Once you were done, you walked to him and looked at his deep eyes. ‘I understand if you don’t come back.’ You frowned, ‘You trusted me Alfie, and I won’t give up easily. I believe you and I’ll fight for us.’ You leaned in and kissed him softly, your arms wrapping around his neck. He pulled you in a big hug and kissed you passionately, ‘I’ll wait for ya, love.’

‘That’s enough, y/n. Come ‘ere, now.’ You sighed and left the home with your brother, his car was waiting outside. That was going to be a long ride.

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buddaimond · 5 years

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> Rob’s quotes in bold<

When Robert Pattinson signed on to play the antagonistic Dauphin of France in Netflix’s medieval epic “The King,” he knew it was a juicy role that would give him the pleasure of taunting Timothée Chalamet. Still, Pattinson hadn’t quite figured out his character until he saw hair-and-makeup photos of his co-star Lily-Rose Depp, who was cast as a royal ingénue.

“I was like, ‘I want to play a princess, too,’” Pattinson said.

The hairdresser capitulated by giving him long, honeyed locks, but Pattinson had one more surprise in store: On set, he unfurled a French accent so deliciously over the top that his scenes became charged with a camp jolt. At first, “I couldn’t quite tell, is this ridiculous?” Pattinson recalled. But after the first take, he found another co-star, Joel Edgerton, doubled over in laughter. “And then I thought, ‘I love this! This is the best.’”

There is little that Pattinson, 33, likes more than confounding expectations, and plenty were placed on him after the megahit “Twilight” franchise ended in 2012. Since then, he has reinvented himself as an auteur’s muse, eager to add his mischievous spirit and pop cultural frisson to art-house films by directors like Claire Denis, David Cronenberg, and the Safdie brothers.

His irreverent instincts get their most sustained showcase yet in “The Lighthouse,” a wild, darkly funny new film from Robert Eggers (“The Witch”) that pits Pattinson against Willem Dafoe as 19th-century lighthouse keepers who drink, spar, shout and even cuddle. The Nova Scotia shoot was arduous, and Pattinson’s unusual approach — to psyche himself up before takes, he would sometimes gag and hit himself in the face — often surprised Eggers and Dafoe.

Still, Pattinson found that tension to be helpful. “Even if it’s rage you’re feeling, it’s more interesting than boredom, because you can use rage,” Pattinson told me recently in a West Hollywood hotel, where “The Lighthouse” had just screened for awards voters.

After spending the last few years in independent films, Pattinson is planning another zig: He’s shooting “Tenet,” a big-budget summer movie for Christopher Nolan, and he was just cast as the lead in “The Batman,” a new take on the comic-book character due in 2021. “It’s an entirely different experience from the movies I’ve been doing,” the actor said. “Normally I shoot six weeks, and now it’s six months!”

Here are edited excerpts from our conversation.

Is it fair to say you’re drawn to eccentric characters?

I’ve always thought that the only reason you’d want to play a good guy all the time is because you’re desperately ashamed of what you’re doing in real life, whereas if you’re a pretty normal person, the most fun part of doing movies is that you can explore the more grotesque or naughty sides of your psyche in a somewhat safe environment. And it’s always more fun if you’re shocking the people in the room. If you end up being boring, that’s the lowest of the low.

Do you think you’ve been boring before?

All the time. You can bore yourself! On “The Lighthouse,” I’d do two out of 17 takes that work, and on the other ones, I’d roll the dice in a different direction that leads me nowhere. But it’s more fun doing that than making a plan and sticking to it.

What was the first day of shooting “The Lighthouse” like?

Well, my first shot was this ferocious masturbation scene. It’s always nice to do something massive for your opening shot, and I went really massive on the first take. It was a 180 from everything we’d done in rehearsal, and I could see Robert [Eggers] a little in shock afterward. But I was like, “O.K., cool, I didn’t get told to stop, so I’ll keep going in that direction.” As soon as I’d done that, it was like the road started getting paved.

Why did you feel like you couldn’t uncork that character in rehearsals?

I want to do it different every time, and if you rehearse it 30 times, you have to think of 30 different ways to do it — even if the first way is probably the best way. I just hate it when I do a second take exactly the same as the first take. They might as well fire me.

Doing it the same feels false to you?

It’s just boring! I mean, I’ve definitely seen actors who love rehearsing and are very good, so there’s got to be some benefit to it. But there’s something about that full commitment when you’re shooting, when it’s do or die, that allows you to be more free. Or maybe I’m just lazy and I can’t be bothered to do it until the day we shoot!

Did “The Lighthouse” strike you as a comedy at first?

I thought the script was hilarious when I read it, but I had a similar experience on “High Life” [a space drama about convicts sent to a black hole]. When Claire Denis and I watched that by ourselves, we were pissing our pants laughing — it’s insane, that movie. But at the premiere of “High Life,” there was this deadly silence as everyone watched it. I was like, “Oh God, no one’s seeing the absurdity of this.”

People just assume that if it’s an art-house film, it can’t be funny.

It made me worry that if people aren’t told that “The Lighthouse” is a comedy, they might not feel like they’re allowed to laugh at it. You know, I used to think that doing movies was almost like taking a test, and there was so much pressure to do it right, but I’ve now swung more over to the other side of things: It’s supposed to be really fun, and if you just play it that way, it’s more enjoyable and ends up in a good place. Having a laugh really changes everything.

You’re currently working on Christopher Nolan’s next film and you’ll begin shooting “Batman” soon. How does it feel to have traded art-house movies for big studio blockbusters?

I mean, “Dunkirk” is almost an art-house movie! Chris Nolan is literally the one director who can make an art-house movie for hundreds of millions of dollars, so it doesn’t really feel like a studio thing. With “Batman,” if I’d done it a few years ago, I would have been incredibly nervous, but I’ve still got a few months before we start shooting. Plenty of time to have a panic attack!

You were saying earlier that we should be skeptical of any actor who wants to play the hero, and yet here you are playing Batman.

Batman’s not a hero, though. He’s a complicated character. I don’t think I could ever play a real hero — there’s always got to be something a little bit wrong. I think it’s because one of my eyes is smaller than the other one.

What is it about Batman that excites you?

I love the director, Matt Reeves, and it’s a dope character. His morality is a little bit off. He’s not the golden boy, unlike almost every other comic-book character. There is a simplicity to his worldview, but where it sits is strange, which allows you to have more scope with the character.

You just paused.

I just fear that when I say anything about “Batman,” people online are like, “What does this mean?” And I don’t know! I used to be very good at censoring myself, but I’ve said so many ridiculous things over the years, so I’m always curious when I’m promoting these movies how many times I can mess up. It feels like with every movie that comes out, there’s always one quote from me where it’s like, “How? What kind of out-of-body experience produced that screaming nonsense?”

You’ve said that after you were cast as Batman, you anticipated a vitriolic reaction online.

Maybe I’m just used to abuse by now. At least I didn’t get death threats this time — that’s a plus! It’s funny that people are so very angry about “Twilight.” I never particularly understood it.

When an actor stars in a franchise that’s made for women, there are men who resent that: “My girlfriend likes him, so I don’t.”

They need to think about why they feel that way. Maybe it’s time for a deep soul-search: “Why do you fear what you don’t understand?” But yeah, it’s very strange. All the stuff with “Twilight” was strange. I used to walk down the street with no one recognizing me, and then that changed for four years.

Are you worried that by making big movies again, you may invite that scrutiny back into your life?

People don’t really mess with me in the same way now that I’m older. When I was younger, the paparazzi would be crazy to me — I’d be leaving a place, and people would be screaming abuse — but I can’t imagine it going back to that. Do people really care anymore? The gossip magazines have all kind of gone away, and everyone just puts their stuff on Instagram anyway.

Everyone but you.

Well, I’m old and boring. And I only have abs, like, two weeks a year.

#the king (movie)#The Lighthouse #Batman #Tenet #Robert Pattinson #new york times #twilight movie

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16ruedelaverrerie · 4 years

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It makes so much more sense to answer this privately, but this message is still one of the funniest things I’ve seen over the last six months, so I need to enshrine it in visible form. @king-kodi I hope you figured out the answer in these SIX MONTHS SINCE YOU MESSAGED ME, I’m sorry! This account is still active, in the way that a lizard that does not move for 10 years is still alive.

The answer, belatedly, is that the little shit cat in question (when not hungry or ill) decides whether it wants to go for a stroll or not. Sometimes it just wants to chat instead of going for a stroll, but them’s the breaks, all control is an illusion and the tiny virtual piece of shit must be left to its own devices to do what it wishes. I love this game. All cats are perfect, even the ones that aren’t real.

ANON!!! YES!!!!! Wow wait first of all can I express how touched I am that you remembered having been in previous disbelief over people liking Theon Greyjoy, then after you started reading the books you came back to this blog to let me know about your changing thoughts THAT IS THE KIND OF ENGAGEMENT THAT I AS AN EDUCATOR CAN ONLY DREAM ABOUT AND WOULD NOT EVEN DEMAND FROM MY STUDENTS

Truly it is a no-good life for Theon, when the only friends and family he has are a bunch of people who are technically licensed to execute him WITH THE SWORD THEY MAKE HIM CARRY AROUND FOR OTHER BEHEADINGS fkl;dhgk and the whole “the Starks are such lovely people” angle that the show takes most of the time... really fails to shed adequate light on how there are so many bigger issues here than individuals being decent individuals! ANON... THEON JUST WANTED TO GO HOME, ANON. HE JUST COULDN’T FIGURE OUT WHERE THAT WAS. ANON HOLD MY HAND.

Oooo did you get around to it? How did it turn out?? I feel like Markus was also working on his own version of a Les Mis crossover! This is always the case when I think about crossovers or AUs of any kind, but what delights me the most tends to be moments that crack me up and don’t necessarily have any staying power as an extended parallel-- like, this is an AU and not a crossover, but just the thought of Javert infiltrating the barricades with a beanie and a wide stance because that’s what he thinks insurgents look like....................................... that is so fucking funny to me.............

This is so kind, thank you! I hope you are taking care of yourself too! All these messages are from a thousand years ago so “taking care of yourself” had somewhat less urgency and gravity then, but it is important to take care of yourself regardless of circumstances. I’m doing okay, overall. Actually my work and life situation are a bit unorthodox at the moment, but in a way that is very conducive to leading a hermit-like existence, so at least in that way I am fortunately equipped to weather these times. Seriously though! I hope you are all taking care of yourselves!

Thank you very much! I think it’s always easier to recognize and define other people’s styles than your own, but I have an especially hard time figuring out what my ~art~ ever is, so it’s very generous of you to say so. Because of my aforementioned unorthodox work and life situation, I find myself with no more leisure time right now than I did in the before, but I am trying to brush up on very basic art stuff a little bit! I feel really unsteady with art most of the time because I don’t have solid basics, so I’m hoping this will ameliorate some of my THIS LOOKS WRONG BUT I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY problems u__u

~*~THE CONTINUATION LIVES IN YOUR HEART~*~ wow what a cop-out answer. This is one of those things that HAUNTS ME anon! I remain a “never say never” person at heart so I am still refusing to say that there won’t be more comics in that universe, but... in all honesty, it’s been so long since the first one that all the ideas and jokes I had related to it have become... well, I’ve thought about them so much that I’ve become unable to tell whether they’re funny at all, is what has happened. I mean really! Chivalry Comics was posted more than SIX YEARS AGO! I SHOULD HAVE MADE SOMETHING LONG BEFORE THIS POINT, I’VE FUCKED IT UP

And yet, I remain a “never say never” person at heart. One day, anon! One of these godforsaken days.

Ah thank you for this annual message! And for the NAKED REMINDER OF HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN SINCE I HAVE ANSWERED MESSAGES... I am deeply ashamed of this, but some amount of self-abasement builds character.

H-HAPPY NEW YEAR, DEAR ANON! I know, once again, I am rubbing this timestamp into my face while demanding of myself, LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE, YOU HIDEOUS MISCREANT, but also that does mean that your message has been warming my inbox for the last three+ months! That’s why I take so long to answer these, so that whenever I feel a pang of guilt for not having gotten to them yet, I also at least get to feel a corresponding pang of gratefulness and joy at how nice the message is.

I so vividly remember reading so many instances of Nines noticing Gavin’s core temperature spike that I was like “this is a good trope and I am into it, but also I’ve never seen this much talk of core temperatures outside of, like, natural family planning discussion forums” ON THE OTHER HAND WHY HAVE I EVER SPENT ANY TIME ON NATURAL FAMILY PLANNING DISCUSSION FORUMS????

HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL

AND ALSO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES!

#askbox #theon greyjoy #asoiaf #game of thrones #detroit become human #les miserables #chivalry comics

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ty-talks-comics · 4 years

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Best of DC: Week of February 26th, 2020

Best of this Week: Batman: Curse of the White Knight Book Seven - Sean Murphy, Matt Hollingsworth and AndWorld Design

Batman is Dead.

The last issue of Curse of the White Knight gave us the last in the story of Edmond Wayne and revealed that the man that Bruce thought was his ancestor, turned out to have been the family to Jean-Paul Valley instead. Bakkar of the Order of St. Dumas killed Edmond after betraying and stealing Gotham from under him, thus assuming the name of Wayne and forming the city to his vision. With this newfound information, Batman has found himself a man with a lineage of thievery, especially after finding out that Gotham’s Elite have been funding their crime through Wayne Enterprises.

This issue begins with a somber flashback to a moment before the funeral of the Waynes. Bruce cries and blames himself for their deaths because he wanted to see The Mask of Zorro. He had always wanted to use the rapiers that his father kept on display and figured if he learned to use them from the movie, then he would be able to impress his father enough. Alfred, always so caring, tells him that if he’s able to go to the funeral, then he can hold a rapier. He then vows to teach young Bruce how to use it for the next danger he may face.

Matt Hollingsworth colors this flashback in a cool blue hue, emphasizing both the sadness and the hopefulness of the moment. Murphy portrays Alfred as being caring and shows that even with the tears, Bruce shows his ability to rise up and become the hero that people need. Though the rapier is far too large for his kid body, Bruce holds it firm in hopes of protecting Gotham in the future.

As we cut back to the modern day, Bruce faith in himself and his dreams of becoming Gotham’s knight are shaken. He was never a Wayne by blood and he sees himself as part of Gotham’s cuse. Many would be right to see him as such given Gotham’s crime initially started off as petty stuff and eventually escalated into battles with The Joker, Two-Face and others with Gotham being caught in the crossfire every time. He didn’t even know that his company was being used by criminals because of his singular focus on fighting crime.

Murphy draws Batman as being tired and ashamed of himself for only just now understanding Jack Napier’s vision and why Batman is just as bad for Gotham as The Joker was. His expressions are melancholic, Murphy makes excellent use of shadow to try to hide some of his shame and body language to make him look like an old man that’s been sitting on a lawn chair for eighty hard years. Harleen Quinzel acts as his voice of reason during his pity party and actually shows concern for him.

Harleen has been a central character in this world since the very first issue of the original White Knight and that doesn’t change here though her own personal arc is over. The last issue saw her do her best to bring Jack Napier out of Joker’s mind for one last time for information and to save her children. In the end, she had to shoot Joker in the head to let Jack rest and rid herself of the monster that had been plaguing her for years. She still finds herself at Batman’s side as one of his most trusted friends.

Bruce still has one thing that he can do to make sure that Jean-Paul doesn’t get away with his crimes and Harley convinces him that Gotham will forgive his transgressions like they did for the former Joker in Napier. At the same time, Azrael is still out there and Murphy and Hollingsworth give readers an AMAZING shot of the villain in his updated Knightfall costume. He grabs onto the nds of his cape as he soars backwards into his hideout. The lights of the city contrast with his blacks, yellows and blues to just give us a pretty damn good shot of how powerful he feels in the suit.

This is contrasted by the next few set of panels where he’s puking out of his mask after escaping from the GTO (Gotham Task Oppression Unit). This version of Azrael has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and as such needs medicine to live and suppress the symptoms. With little dialogue and some telling panels, we see that Azrael has empty bottle after empty bottle of pills in his cabinet. He’s starting to look a bit more gaunt than the first time we saw him. He’s withering away slowly and only has one more pill to spare for his coming battle with Batman.

I love the details that Murphy and Hollingworth add here. There’s blood in his vomit and it maintains after he pukes on his leg. His ribs are starting to show and we’ve seen just how jacked he was in the issues prior. His hair doesn’t appear as long as it did, even pulled into a bun/ponytail and there’s just something so final about the “shit” he gives after finding out that he only has one more pill left. In that singular moment, his mistakes come back to haunt him after killing his, admittedly, treacherous employer.

Soon after, Bruce makes amends to Barbara Gordon after inadvertently causing the accident that almost saw her completely lose use of her legs and effectively getting her dad killed. Barbara has always been resilient and we all feared that that issue #5 would be yet another Killing Joke, but here she is, using crutches to try walking again. The scene takes place during the bright Gotham day and this signals a brighter future for their relationship.

Bruce had always gone to Jim Gordon for advice on what route he should take, but without him, Bruce is missing one of his moral compasses. Barbara is the next best person because she has always been smarter than her father and Bruce has a ton of guilt to get off of his chest and Barbara handles everything like the mature adult that she is. She doesn’t blame Bruce for what happened, even though she said horrid things in anger, but can anyone blame her? She cries at the mention of her father and embraces Bruce, encouraging whatever his decision may be.

Of course, with this being the penultimate issue in this particular storyline, it only makes sense that we see a grand revelation come out of it. Murphy and Hollingsworth set the stage with Hollingsworth coloring the afternoon skies of Gotham with an orange-red kind of hue. We see various shots of different places in Gotham from public libraries to the streets themselves as Batman appears on the giant monitor of Gotham Square. Everything feels hot and sort of uncomfortable.

Bruce gives his appreciation and thanks to the people of Gotham for allowing him to serve as their protector and we continue to get these various shots of people. There’s auto mechanics watching the broadcast in their shop, people in a bar and kids watching on a cell phone with their dog. Murphy uses this to illustrate that Gotham is far larger than we think it is and that there are many people that Batman has saved from every corner of his beloved city, but he hasn’t done enough yet. So what’s the final step?

Batman reveals himself to be Bruce Wayne and dismantles WayneCorp.

Bruce finally becomes the knight that Gotham needs by giving back to the people. By destroying his company, he gives back to the people of Gotham by giving all of his money to nonprofits, schools, homeless shelters etc. It’s everything that Batman detractors have been saying Bruce should have done for ages. In doing so, he offers Gotham a better future than he could have as Batman, but he only asks them to stay off the streets of Gotham for one night while he takes care of the Azrael business. Murphy shows Bruce holding his cowl one last time, standing tall by his heroic decision.

Back at the GCPD, he gets lambasted by Commissioner Montoya for going off and doing his own thing again, but counters by saying that he trusts in the people of Gotham and they all formulate their battle plans. It’ll be his last time taking the reigns before he turns himself in as well, so he might as well make sure that everything goes according to plan.

As Montoya tells Batman that Azrael destroyed most of the other Batmobiles in his assault on bruce in Book Four (I think), she reveals that one survived and I see that Sean Murphy is a Batfan after my own heart. The Batmobile that survives is the badass one from the Animated Series, what this book is supposed to be the “sequel” to. It's sleek and well designed thanks to Murphy’s own love of cars. From the presentation, readers can tell that this is one of the pages he took serious time with as the Batmobile is given so much respect.

After a short conversation with Dick about what Bruce is going to do when he catches Azrael, Batman drives away, leaving his sidekicks concerned about his state of mind and we get one last splash page of Batman standing in the middle of Gotham Square without his cowl and the sky is a blood red. The Batmobile looks sexy in the background and this was all just so amazing.

Sean Murphy is a comic book treasure. His art and his writing truly made this an experience and a Batman story worth standing the test of time. It had the action, the drama, the stylish sequences and several twists and turns that make a story great. He’s made Batman his own in a grungy style much like how Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo have in a heavy metal manner. Murphy’s Gotham is a masterpiece in crustpunk with social problems that Batman’s always had in the periphery of his character and every issue has been better than the last.

Matt Hollingsworth brings it to life with his perfect colors; Whether they’re making use of the blues of Gotham’s clear skies or the light purples of the night sky, Hollingworth makes Gotham look distinct no matter the time of day. Scenes are given hues to match the tone of the pages whether they’re full of intense anger or incredible sadness, Matt Hollingsworth sets the mood no matter what

I really enjoyed this series, but I can’t wait for the next and final issue of it just to see that confrontation between Batman and Azrael. It’s been a long time coming and the fallout from Bruce’s decision as well… it’ll be too much, but yeah High recommend!

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#batman #curse of the white knight #azrael #barbara gordon #harleen quinzel #sean gordon murphy #sean murphy #matt hollingsworth #dc comics #dc black label

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