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#would you guys hate me if I was true to my name and sketched all the time???
sketchy-tour · 6 months
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While I scream into the void of not finishing any art, have this silly oc interaction of Dandy and Will cause Will's hands are huge and I couldn't stop thinking about how tiny he'd make Dandy's hands look in comparison.
Will Wayward belongs to the lovely @kandavers
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bubu-pharmacy-doctor · 4 months
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hate to derail the entire blog
what are deadly 60 and operation ouch
Deadly 60 is a show hosted by Steve Backshall. He goes around the world to find a list of 60 deadly animals. These are not animals deadly to humans, no, no, no. These animals must be deadly to THEIR OWN PREY!
Contenders include the blue ringed octopus, our tetrodotoxin baby which spawned a phrase I still use to this day! "It's not pretty, it's deadly!"
In the first series, he fed sting rays, ackowledging that they were the cause of Steve Irwin's death, and iterating to a rather large audience given time, that he would be the last person wanting them to be hated, a quite significant reason why the UK does not see sting rays as deadly, because Backshall genuinely had this much effect on the UK. They did not go on the deadly 60 list.
But what does! IS THE BOTTLENOSE DOLPHIN!
Operation Ouch is a show where Dr. Chris and Dr. Xand (twins!) (and I believe now Dr. Ronx, but they weren't on the show when I watched it. I should probably check out the recent episodes.) show you the true aspets of the human body fit with all the gore! AND MODELS!
Horrible Histories is a comedy sketch show wherein every sketch is historical, whether that be Nigel and "treacle" (we never learn treacle's name, but he calls Nigel honey), the gay paramedics of various eras who only make things worse before RUNNING AWAY RUNNING AWAY as the real paramedics get there, or D.S. Bones, Historical Road Traffic Accident Squad, he got demoted, he doesn't want to talk about it, or Ra, ra, Cleopatra! / Famous beauty coming at ya! / Ra ra, patra Cleo!
These shows fundamentally changed me.
I learnt I'm disabled because of Operation Ouch.
When we covered the Power & Conflict poetry for GCSE Literature, (Checking Out Me History by John Agard) and our teacher was giving us the context, she told us what Mary Seacole did, only mentioning Florence Nightingale, and I had to be the awkward student to ask "I already knew about Mary Seacole, but who's Florence Nightingale?". Everyone looked at me weirdly, one guy (who was bigoted in many ways so we don't trust his judgement) laughed at me because they thought I was an idiot. I'm not an idiot! I just learnt about the whitewashing of history WHEN I WAS EIGHT!
If you saw the massive toxicology spiel on this blog, my interest in such a thing was spawned because of Deadly 60, and it still carries me through biology to this day! IRUKANDJI!!!
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reficu1 · 1 year
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hiiii ^^ was wondering if I could have a matchup for genshin?
name: Periwinkle or just Peri but i also go by quin sometimes
sexuality: bi with a preference for guys
gender: non-binary, they/them
likes: music, art, true crime, animals but especially sea creatures, makeup, fashion, the cold, dark psychology, night, horror movies an books, gore, monsters <3, tropical fruits, icecream, sleeping, giving gifts, snow, thunderstorms, nature, and dinosaurs lmao.
dislikes: rules, anyone super serious reminds me of my m o m lmao, people who interrupt others, sports, heat, people touching my sides without warning me first, people not paying attention to me when i talk, people who always hold a pity party for themselves as their whole personality, koalas, and people who think they have it worse than you.
hobbies: singing, poetry, painting, sketching, writing, cooking, crocheting, bike riding while listening to music, swimming, video games like (skyrim, minecraft, botw, subnautica)
personality: INFP-A. a lot of people say i seem intimidating at first glance, i'm very aggressive and tend to be very loud by nature yet not very energetic if that makes sense. i talk too loud basically lmao. im socially awkward and try to make people too comfy too quick and tend to overshare. my mood changes rapidly due to being a borderline. I have a very happy personality tho and laugh at so much its ridiculous yet im diagnosed with multiple mental disorders. im really lazy and hate even standing for more than 5 mins mainly cuz my whole body always hurts tho lmao. im quite introverted and unless i HAVE to i hate going out and meeting new people. i isolate myself a lot if i get even slightly mad or sad. i have a lot of self-destructive habits and just dont work on them lmao. i talk a lot about things i like. i have bad trust and attachment issues yet i dont completely trust anyone due to past issues. a lot of people ik say im someone very trustworthy since i can keep secrets and know how to stay loyal and help people when they need to vent. im very blunt to the point it has ruined relationships. i try to watch my speaking due to having grown up in an environment where if i said anything wrong id be screamed at or beat so i tend not to say a lot of things im thinking despite being blunt. i can barely speak up for myself if someone is mad at me for fear of them hating me or leaving me, to the point if i stand up for myself i start crying and shaking and have to leave the room. i have really bad issues with self-harm. i have a very short attention span and get distracted super easy t the point i can barely read properly lmao. im really hypersexual at times and then sex repulsed at other times. i have an obsessive personality and if i find anything i like i surround myself with it as much as i can and if not, im daydreaming abt it. i have a thing for correcting people abt anything ik a lot about. i have a thing for loving anyone, whether real or fake, that's usually unliked whether its for being weird, scary, or ugly in any form. so basically i love the unloveable cuz i understand them. i cuss a l o t lmao. im very clumsy and jumpy at all times lmao i get hurt a lot, randoms bruises everywhere. i find comfort in my depression so i dont plan on getting better but im not suicidal. im the type of person to be like "huh?" even tho i heard you loud and clear.
insecurities: my body. i'm overweight for my height and have really defined curves so i get oversexualized a lot so i hate my body, plus my scars do n o t help. ive been told my whole life by my grandma and my cousins that im only good for my body so yeah. the way i get obsessed with things and people so easily. the fact im very poor and currently am homeless along with my parents lmao. the way i look for bad in anyone i like becuz i dont want to let myself love ever again. how i dont want to get better at all, i just wanna stew in my shit lmaoooo. the way i eat really unhealthily. how when i would cry as a child my family would say i was being dramatic so now when i need to cry i gaslight myself into thinking im being cringe. the way i try to seem a bit cooler than i am in front of people online. my impulsive lying (im working on it with my therapist tho so i barely do anymore compared to before). My taste in people. my fashion sense cuz of my mom. the way im agnostic now since i grew up religious. my darker interests. my boyish personality. how i cant keep anything around me clean for more than two days.
I hope you have a great night/day ^^
Oh, it's sad how similar we are. I hope that in the future you will get rid of people who make you uncomfortable, or your parents will change their parenting methods. Although the scars on the body and on the nervous system will remain.
I match up for you...
Okay, it was difficult. I chose between two characters whose 7 is dominant in the enneagram, because of this they avoid their problems _(._.)_well...
I wanted to choose Venti, but he has huge problems with responsibility or absence. He is used to drowning out moral pain with optimism, conversations, and a penchant for bad habits. And a pretty sloppy attitude.
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That's why I chose Child. Of course, I don’t know what will happen in the future and whether you want to have a family, so I will talk about his family in Snezhnaya. For the comfort of his family, he will do everything. Just look at his spoiled younger brother<^!^> Of course, the "lie" question bothers me. In his case, it is rather "a lie for the good" and "a wolf in sheep's clothing." The first is for the family so that they do not worry, and the other for his work. I talked earlier about avoiding reality or problems. Tartaglia has a tendency to avoid real issues that only concern his life and injuries. In conversation, he avoids the question by making a joke out of it, so as not to begin to study himself deeply. Since you don't really like touch, I see that his love language is deeds, gifts, money.
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*DISCLAIMER: if you haven’t read it yet, please read Chapter 1: Unexpected
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Chapter 2: “Object of Desire”
Morning classes seemed as if they were on a speedy timetable. First had been World History. Talked about the current events and how Reagan’s presidency was going. Once the bell rang I had walked to chemistry. Nothing too exciting. Did mix some chemicals with my lab partner, Chrissy. She was sweet. You would have never thought she was head cheerleader at first. Meaning she was nice and not snobby like the girls that would normally make fun of myself or any other girl that wasn’t the “norm”. After Chemistry, was Math. Oh how I hated Math. Was never the best at it. Good enough to pass, but never made the honors program. Which was fine with me. The honors program would take those students that would excel in Math or Science at Hawkins and put them on teams for decathlons specifically inclined for those subjects. The thought alone of being in the program would make me shake my head in confusion. That had been the class I was hoping to go by even faster. Once that class was over, I would be in my favorite class. A place where expressing myself had never been an issue. Art Class with Miss Haven. Where I could do, be or say anything I wanted… to an extent. This is still High School of course.
Art class was considered an elective and therefore counted only for a small part of school credit. Both my parents thought art wasn’t as productive or practical. They said I should be more involved with sports or the school paper, something I could put my name on and be proud. I countered that argument by showing the sketches and paintings I had done, where I signed the bottom. If it wasn’t for Steve, I’d be on the tennis team or cheer squad. He was the one who convinced them to let me stay in art. My only condition was to not let it distract me from my other studies. Which it hadn’t, not that much that is. I took my seat where I normally sat and prepared myself for class with all the mediums and supplies. Miss Haven walked in whistling the tune to Green Acres. She had on her mustard colored smock. When she wore that, we knew painting was on the agenda.
“Good morning, almost afternoon class!” She hurried to her desk. She was always so chipper and happy to be there. Miss Haven was very big into the peace and love, say no to war concept. Mom would refer to her as a hippie. I didn’t care, either way she had been accepting of all her students. Including those who’d like to argue her beliefs. She kept a level head.
“Good morning Miss Haven.” The class said in unison.
“As you can see, I’m wearing my smock. Which means this next project we will be working on is a painting.” She said while writing on the board what our theme would be. “The theme, object of desire.”
“Like women?” Asked one of the boys in the back.
“Yes, it can be a woman. It could be a man. It could even be the car that some of you have been saving money for.” Miss Haven shrugged. The boy in the back nodded in approval.
“Miss Haven, what if we don’t know what we desire?” I asked raising my hand. It’s true, I’m only 18 and I have nothing I desire most. Except graduating and getting the hell out of here. She walked over to me and gave me a sympathetic smile.
“That’s okay. It’s not just subjected to a specific person or thing.” She continued to the whole class so they could hear. “It can be a dream, like a goal. You can paint yourself at the end of that goal.”
“Like for instance the basketball final championship.” Jason piped up. Jason Carver was THAT guy. Team captain of the basketball team and the student body President of our senior class. A lot of people referred to him as Mr. Cool and the guy to be. He was also dating Chrissy, my lab partner. She talked about him a lot but it never annoyed me, not like his actual presence.
“Yes, Mr. Carver. You can paint yourself shooting that winning shot. While Miss Cunningham is cheering you on.” She politely said, while rolling her eyes. Jason smiled with pride.
“How long do we have to complete said assignment?” Asked the girl sitting in front my table.
“I will give you until not this Tuesday but next Tuesday.” Miss Haven continued. “Which means, eleven days and that’s including the weekend. So I’ll give you today to finish up on some projects and to start brainstorming!”
Once the assignment had been given, I sat in my seat thinking of what my main subject of this project would be. Normally if there was something I had wanted or shall we say desired, I’d just do the work it took to get to it and that’s it. Steve and I grew up with a pretty blessed life and never once went without, but that wasn’t because we were spoiled. Our parents did teach us the value of our first dollar and how hard work pays off. You know, when they were home with us. The same lesson was taught to us as well, by our grandparents. Steve did however get a big head when people praised his sportsmanship and accomplishments on the court when he was basketball captain. His perspective however changed when him and his ex girlfriend Nancy broke up. He never said why, but I assumed it had just been a normal high school breakup. Once they weren’t together again, he was more level headed and began to be the Steve I had grown up with. That’s when he and Robin became friends and when Dustin and the boys were hanging out with him. It was nice because it felt like old times but with new people.
The bell had rang to let class out. We all made our way out the door and waved to Miss Haven. I stopped at my locker and switched out some books for my afternoon classes. It had been time for lunch for some students, myself included. As I closed my locker, I found a familiar face waiting.
“Ready to stuff our faces?!” It was Robin. Her and I would meet at my locker since it was closer to the cafeteria.
“More than ready.” I left out a dramatic sigh. She noticed but must’ve interpreted it incorrectly. We started walking towards the cafeteria.
“Are you okay?” She sounded concerned. I looked at her while walking and chuckled.
“I’m fine. Really.” I reassured her.
“Then care to tell me why the sigh?” Robin questioned.
“We were assigned to do a painting for Art.” I started to explain. “The theme being ‘Object of Desire’.
“Oooh, so what is it my dear friend that you desire?” Robin tried to be silly. Moving her hands around like she had a crystal ball.
“Oh you know the usual. A tall, dark and handsome man to come take me away on his noble steed.” I pretended to be a damsel in distress. Robin and I started cracking up and laughing. I was laughing so hard, my eyes were tearing up. I couldn’t see where I was going and felt myself walk into something cold and wet. “What the hell?!”
“Wow Harrington.” I heard a voice say. It was Eddie Munson, again. I looked down at my shirt and noticed it was a mess.
“Munson, what the hell is all over my shirt?” I was starting to feel heat rise to my cheeks. Robin started to try and clean me up with tissues she grabbed from her backpack.
“My lunch. I was walking to the lunch tables outside with Jeff here and you ran into me.” He chuckled.
“Eddie, make yourself useful and help us clean the mess up?” Robin quipped. He smirked and we cleaned the mess up as best as we could. Robin then looked at me with a questioning look. “Do you have an extra shirt?”
“My flannel.” I shrugged. Although I didn’t want to wear it. It was almost 70 some degrees and the middle of Spring. So weather was starting to heat up and be a little more uncomfortable.
“I may have something for you.” Eddie suggested. I looked at him with a glare.
“Oh I see you’re still here.” I said with a smug tone.
“Look Harrington, I’m just trying to help. You know because it’s my lunch that you were just wearing.” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. Was he actually being nice and helpful?
“Robin?” I looked at her for some guidance.
“I mean he’s being nice.” She gave a half smile.
“Okay, Eddie I will take the offer. Robin, can you save me a seat in there?” I pointed with my thumb to the cafeteria.
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” She asked concerned.
“No it’s okay. It won’t be long.” I smiled reassuring her. She nodded and walked into the cafeteria. I turned towards Eddie and looked at him. “Shall we?”
We walked to Eddie’s locker which wasn’t too far from mine. How I hadn’t noticed before is kinda weird. He did the combination and opened the metal door. Inside his locker was like looking into another world. There were magazine cutouts of bands such as Metallica, Motörhead and even Black Sabbath. I noticed he had some photos taped up in the way back. Some were of him and I’m assuming a band he knew. There was a more recent photo with him and some other boys in it. Three memorable faces; Dustin, Mike and Lucas. They all were wearing the same shirt that Eddie had been wearing today. Eddie pulled an article of clothing from the lock and small folded up piece of paper fell out. I picked it up and unfolded it. It was a photograph of a woman. She was holding a small baby in her arms. Very beautiful long curly hair. Was looking at the baby in her arms. When he noticed that I was looking at it, he snatched it from my hands and threw back in the locker, shutting it quickly.
“Who was that?” I was actually intrigued.
“No one.” He quickly retorted and unfolded the clothing. He held up a shirt with black short sleeves and was white. On the front was a picture of a red demon with a knife on one side and a mace on the other. There was die included too. At the top of the image it read ‘Hellfire Club’. He held it up. “What do you think?”
“What is Hellfire Club?” I was puzzled by the image.
“My D&D Club. You know, Dungeons and Dragons.” He was gleeful.
“Hmm okay then. It’ll do.” I grabbed the shirt and quickly rushed into the girls room. Switched out of my shirt and pulled his over my head. It was a little bit big on me. I tied up the bottom and made it a little tighter to fit. Looking in the mirror, pleased with my look. Walked out to see Eddie still standing there. As soon I walked out, I noticed his eyes had widened. He had a half smile. I looked at him confused. “Can I help you?”
“Sorry, um it, it looks nice on you.” He scratched the back of his neck.
“Thanks.” I tucked one of the loose pieces of my hair behind my ear. I looked up at him and into his eyes. They were like this deep brown that sorta reminded me of a Hershey kiss. They had sort of a twinkle in them. I felt myself step closer to him. He followed. As he had gotten closer, I smelled the faint cigarette smoke from earlier this morning. This time it was mixed with a woodsy smell, like a musk. At that moment something clicked, or not. As soon as he stepped forward, he quickly took a step back.
“So I’ll see you around?” He quickly spoke up.
“Um yeah. Thank you again for the shirt.” I smiled.
“Maybe you come by our table at lunch sometime and I can explain D&D, too.” Eddie suggested. I kinda wanted to agree to it, but something inside stopped me.
“I’ll rain check.” I said as I waved goodbye. I turned around and headed towards the cafeteria to meet back up with Robin.
“Typical Harrington. Too good for us common folk!” He bellowed down the hall with a laugh. I turned around and gave him a quick smile before going through the doors.
I shook my head and sorta grinned to myself. Wondering if maybe Eddie was being nice to be nice or if he meant it. Either way him and I were two for two, kinda. Him running into me outside almost, then running into him before lunch. It sure is a wonder.
(Hope you guys like this chapter. Please let me know thoughts. Be sure to read Chapter 1: Unexpected before reading this one. Thank you to those who have read or are reading!)
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Hi I love your writing and just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to share with us and I was wondering if I could ask you for some advice. So I’ve always been a bigger reader of fanfics and I truly love what people do on this site like the ideas are amazing and I’ve always wanted to take a shot at writing . I feel like I have some general basic ideas I want to write about but I feel kinda lost on the whole planning aspect . I was wondering if you have tips or advice you would willing to share . Anyway your one of my favorite writers for ACOTOR and I love your blog and you just seem like a great person anyways thank you for your time and hope you have a good day !
I both simultaneously love and hate when you guys ask me these questions. I'm not forced to admit what a true goblin creature I am.
First of all, nothing HAS to be 100 chapters long. In fact, I'm finding that difficult for me to sustain, too. If you have a great idea, maybe try a one shot. Write out the specific scene you're thinking of and if nothing else comes to mind and you have no thoughts about it beyond that scene, congrats! You wrote a successful one shot.
When it comes to planning, everyone is gonna differ on this. I don't outline. I don't make diagrams or spreadsheets or any of that stuff. My novel has one (highladydawn suggested I do it and I do everything she says) and I consulted it yesterday because I couldn't remember how to spell a name. But that plot I wrote out? LOL hilarious. If you like planning, I suggest considering what you want the major points of your story to be. Stories need, at best, a problem/conflict that makes characters act, a climax of said problem, and the resolution that makes it satisfying. You can do that in three chapters or 45, it depends on you. Once you know your basic plot, you could sketch out each chapter. What happens? I do that sometimes as I near the end of a fic but usually as a motivating thing because I'm tired and need to see the finish line.
I personally don't do anything of those things but I respect people who do. I daydream it out in my mind without messing with a lot of the middle stuff. I'm sure it shows. Once I know how I want something to end, I just sort of write and hope for the best. I find that works for me because I change my mind a lot when it comes to the plot/action/etc etc and it gives me freedom to do whatever I want while still knowing how I vaguely want things to end.
Writing is so personal, everyones process is different. Find what motivates you and do exactly that. If I tagged 5 other writers for their process, they'd tell you different things. Yours, too, won't look anything like mine. It's all good, in the end. Writing is like roller blading? The more you practice, the better you get
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greyselectronics · 2 years
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Deep thoughts jack handy
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Jack Handy quotes Jack Handy If you want to be the most popular person in your class, whenever the professor pauses in his lecture, Jack Handy quotes (American Writer and cast member of Saturday Night Live from 1991-2003. Quotes with: crawl, ever, go, go to, guys, hollow, inside, log, old, sleep Famous for his Deep Thoughts comedy sketches.) Similar Quotes. Jack Handy quotes Jack Handy quotes (American Writer and cast member of Saturday Night Live from 1991-2003. If a kid gets an answer right, tell him it was a lucky guess And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it. I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. Saturday Night Live Deep Thoughts Quotations - LiveAbout All of these quotes are replicated here courtesy of Jack Handey's Official Website. He sees in his mind a face that does not exist anymore, speaks a name – Spike, Bud, Snip, Red, Rusty, Jack, Dave – which belongs to that now nonexistent face but which by some inane doddering confusion of the universe is for the moment attached to a not happily met and boring strangerġ0 Most Amazing Deep Thoughts By Jack Handey - Smart Nora Here are some of the most memorable ones: "If you go flying back through time, and you see somebody else flying forward into the future, it's probably best to avoid eye contact." "If I ever get real rich, I hope I'm not real mean to poor people, like I am now." “If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down When our mind is not running all the day's problems and tomorrows to-do list it's easier to fall asleep and stay asleep.Ģ2 Jack Handy Quotes - Niche Quotes Jack Handy The Friend of Your Youth is the only friend you will ever have, for he does not really see you. Reading a few funny jokes before bedtime can help us unwind and make us feel more relaxed. Sharing jokes and humor can strengthen bonds between people and help provide a relaxed and friendly atmosphere. Sometimes making fun at life and taking ourselves not too seriously can help make us feel better. Being sleep deprived stops us from living productive and positive lives. Improve your mood.Ĭan also ward off conditions like depression which can possibly lead to sleep deprivation. Increase blood flow and heart health Decrease pain. It reduces stress, and we all know that a stress-free mind helps keep our body healthy. Laughter is proven to have positive health benefits. "I hope if dogs ever take over the world, and they chose a king, they don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas." Why Is Laughter so Important? "Do you know what happens when you slice a golf ball in half? Someone gets mad at you. Then I say to myself, It is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than to be selfish and worry about my liver." If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. "Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed. "To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other." That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes." "Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it." "I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. "Sometimes I think you have to march right in and demand your rights, even if you don't know what your rights are, or who the person is you're talking to. "If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason." "If you go flying back through time, and you see somebody else flying forward into the future, it's probably best to avoid eye contact." Here are some of the most memorable ones: 10 Most Amazing Deep Thoughtsĭeep Thoughts by Jack Handey is a book that holds some of the funniest and most absurd segments from the Saturday Night Live years. He wrote the famous Deep Thoughts segments that he put into a book, Deep Thoughts. He is a writer and comedian and spent several years as a staff writer for Saturday Night Live. Who Is Jack HandeyĬontrary to popular belief, Jack Handey is an actual guy. Laughter is sometimes the best medicine and laughing regularly can help keep our minds off of things, provide health benefits, and even relax us to help us to sleep better. Instead, they were presented with a hilarious and slapstick Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey. The Deep Thoughts segment would come on with zen-type music and viewers were expecting an inspirational moment with a thoughtful quote. If you're a fan of Saturday Night Live you may remember the funny little bits that used to air in between comedy stints in the years 1991 to 1998.
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adultswim2021 · 2 years
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Robot Chicken #35: “The Munnery” | September 24, 2006 – 11:30PM | S02E12
I found myself sorta trying to appreciate this show for what it is and still really having a tough time with it. When Bod by Zod started, which is just a silly premise (Zod from Superman 2 is hosting a workout video). I just can't stomach any of it. My heart can not take this.
“There's no Place Like Home” is a decent gag, I guess, that doesn't wear out its welcome. Here she gets sent to her real parents house, which if you remember the movie she lives with Auntie Em. Dorothy realizes that the spirt of Oz or whatever it is that transports her back “home” took her too literally, and she's now trapped with her sexually abusive father. Pretty dark, and as a mildly anti-woke reactionary I have to respect it. But did I laugh? No, I'm sorry, I was busy thinking about pretty girls scowling at me watching this and angrily shaking their heads. I would like to have sex with these imaginary women/condemn this sort of comedy.
A lengthier sketch called Cork skewers Monk while making a Corky reference, which seriously gives me pause in 2006. Like, the show constantly refers to Corky and then portrays him as a goofy cartoon retarded guy. The real Corky lost his virginity and would not act as foolish. Pussy makes men more retarded unless you are already retarded, then it's the opposite. I really do think that Robot Chicken is disrespecting Life Goes On canon and I can't sit idly by and watch it without saying anything.
There's one where they free the Kraken and he winds up getting a job like any old schmuck and then he commits suicide. I feel like sketches like this, where a fantastic beast succumbs to the mundanity of modern living and then takes his own life are a dime a dozen. They are also sorta pretentious? Like the writers seem to be more commenting on how normal people are sad and pathetic more than it's commenting the systemic problems we are all facing. This sketch should've ended with Joe Biden giving a thumbs up and a speech bubble coming out of his mouth saying “I like that this guy is sad”. That would be saying something. As it stands this sketch is cowardly. No Joe? What do you know.
The most notable sketch in here is Weasel Stomping Day, which is actually a music video for a Weird Al Song of the same name. I appreciate Al. And that's all I say about this.
There's a longish sketch about children wishing on a star and having their dreams come true, and it being utterly disastrous because they all wish to become like giant destructive robots and stuff, while still maintaining a childish mind. This one has a decent premise and I didn't hate it. The gag where the one little boy simply wishes he was a girl is funny and cute. Not mad at it.
Then there's a big Star Trek thing I remember not liking that much or caring about. The end.
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nxrthmizu · 3 years
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kill em’ with kindness
fandom | miraculous ladybug 
genre | lila salt, so much salt 
summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life. 
w.c | 8.1k 
author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass. 
author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it. 
Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.
Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.
She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.
If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?
They didn’t know what was coming for them.
The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—
“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”
Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.
“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.
“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”
Sharp enough to kill?
Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.
She was going to do things the right way.
The kind way.
“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.
Good, Lila was already present.
“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”
The class watched with bated breath.
“I’m sorry.”
Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?
“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.
A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.
“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”
Lila blinked.
What the hell was happening?
The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”
“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.
Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”
(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)
“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”
The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.
Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.
“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”
“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?” 
Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess... 
Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared. 
Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.” 
Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads. 
“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child. 
The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.” 
“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.” 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate? 
She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain. 
Was it...? 
After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps. 
Perhaps it was possible. 
The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise. 
Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?” 
“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?” 
“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?” 
The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.” 
Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.” 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily. 
Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks. 
No. 
She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again. 
“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again. 
Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead. 
As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them. 
“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!” 
“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines. 
“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?” 
Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.” 
“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for. 
Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support. 
“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl. 
“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,). 
“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything. 
Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed. 
All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”
Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”
“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”
With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.
“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.
“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.
Alya frowned. “Who?”
“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”
Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”
“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”
“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.
“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”
An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”
“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”
“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one. 
“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on. 
“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.” 
Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one. 
“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart. 
The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” 
“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done. 
The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks. 
“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation. 
“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself. 
“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill. 
Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers? 
“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!” 
The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.” 
Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter. 
Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?” 
The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen. 
“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face. 
Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was. 
“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.” 
“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, ��So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.” 
The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery. 
Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being. 
Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge. 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had. 
“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist. 
“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white. 
Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...? 
“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.” 
“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom. 
“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?” 
Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion. 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string. 
Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done. 
“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.” 
Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone. 
“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!” 
The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her... 
“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on. 
“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...” 
There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?” 
“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.” 
Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...” 
Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?” 
The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word. 
Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.” 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again. 
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.” 
A collective choir of groans rounded the class. 
“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?” 
Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely? 
“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?” 
“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed. 
The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?” 
“... No.” 
“...” 
“... Maybe.” 
“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.” 
“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.” 
“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?” 
Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.” 
Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression. 
“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?” 
“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?” 
This elicited another round of groans. 
Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally. 
“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery. 
“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!” 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
Slam! 
Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled. 
And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette? 
Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right? 
Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire. 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point. 
Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft. 
“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other? 
“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.” 
Alya was silent. 
“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes. 
“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?” 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?” 
“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally. 
“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates. 
She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job. 
“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.” 
It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom. 
“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?” 
“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.” 
Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know... 
Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.” 
In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. 
“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.” 
“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row. 
“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.” 
Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him. 
“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?” 
“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered. 
“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.” 
“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in. 
“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled. 
“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea. 
The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?” 
The class agreed, nodding along. 
Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president. 
This is your problem now. 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?” 
“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?” 
“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly. 
Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.” 
“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?” 
The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile. 
“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—” 
“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.” 
Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’. 
“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?” 
“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice. 
“Determination was always one of your good traits.” 
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there. 
“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.” 
Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it. 
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation. 
“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations. 
“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond. 
Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come. 
Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet. 
Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars. 
“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”  
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
this was both satisfying and tiring to write... 
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marauderundercover · 3 years
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Taking Chances Chapter 4: Unexpected (Bonding)
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AO3
Bruce Wayne felt lost. This wasn’t an unusual feeling for him, but he wasn’t particularly fond of the events that led to him feeling lost. First, he found out he had a daughter. Yet another child that he hadn’t known of their existence. Then, he acted as Batman. He researched the girl and found that her school situation was...less than ideal. As was the supervillain situation in Paris. The girl- his daughter- had been targeted several times. Sometimes the Akuma went after her from the start. Other times, she was unfortunate enough to be in its line of sight when it was on a rampage. Any way you looked at it, she was in danger. No, the biggest mistake in researching her came with the phone number for the bakery run by her parents. Two lovely people who had raised her and taught her right from wrong. Something he hadn’t done. Their phone call was what left him feeling lost. They hadn’t demanded that he stay away from his daughter- from Marinette. No, on the contrary, they thought it was a great idea for the two to bond. Especially once Bruce had mentioned his other children. 
“Marinette was distraught when the only information we could give her about her birth father was his name.” Sabine had said, adding to Bruce’s confusion. 
“You had my name but didn’t reach out?” Bruce asked, trying (and failing) to figure out the situation. 
“We didn’t have much to go on. Just your name and that you were American and worked in business. Bridgette didn’t give any specifics, and back then it didn’t really matter. I assumed Bruce Wayne was a common enough name, especially in the US.” Sabine replied simply. The rest of their conversation had gone similarly, with Bruce growing more and more lost until the end. They hadn’t even suggested a DNA test (though he was planning on asking Marinette, just so that they could be completely certain). They just wanted Marinette happy. Even if it meant meeting and bonding with the man who hadn’t known about her existence. 
---
Marinette Dupain Cheng was not having an easy week. No, her week was sucky. In fact it was beyond sucky, it was shitty. So many things were happening at the same time, and she was just grateful that she wasn’t currently in Paris, since she was certain she’d be akumatized. From being attacked by the Joker for simply looking like a Wayne, to meeting Batman who was just as angry in person, and then figuring out Bruce Wayne really was her dad and accidentally calling him Batman, to fighting an Akuma by herself (one that she could barely handle) and then to top it all off, Adrien is Chat Noir. And Adrien has a crush on her, as Marinette. And apparently has for at least a month. Oh and now he knows that she’s Ladybug and so last night was filled with her Chat Blanc nightmares all over again. The cherry on the top of this mess was the fact that the class was practically ignoring her. She was sure they weren’t doing it intentionally and that they were just kinda distracted by Lila’s tall tales of Gotham. Tales that include her dating one of Bruce Wayne’s sons. She wouldn’t clarify which one, which was probably for the best. They two closest to their age were 12 and 19. Neither a great option for the 15 year old Italian. A shrill ringing tugs Marinette out of her thoughts. Glancing down at the unknown number attempting to call her, Marinette silently prayed that this would turn her shitty week around. 
“Hello?” She answers, wincing slightly at the way her voice sounds after a night filled with screaming and crying from nightmares. 
“Is this Marinette Dupain Cheng?” A deep voice asks. Marinette frowns. 
“Um, yes?”
“Good. This is Bruce Wayne and well, I’m not sure how to-”
“You’re my dad.” She blurts out, face instantly heating up. “Oh crap, I mean, um-”
“Well yes. I do believe I may be your father. I was in contact with your parents earlier, to ask about boundaries and such. Your mother says that you had shown interest in meeting me and seeing how we’re similar?” He says, the question clear in his voice. Marinette opens her mouth to respond, then frowns. 
“Just like that? We’re gonna meet, just like that?” She asks, hoping that her distrustful tone doesn’t push the man away. 
“I’ll admit that I was going to ask if you would mind a paternity test. After speaking with your mother, I have no doubts, but I thought it might make you feel better. And of course, if you would prefer to just act as though I didn’t speak to your parents and go on with your trip, we can do that as well. I just- I was caught off guard, if I’m being honest.” Bruce Wayne- her father- says. 
“I’ll do it. I- I would like to get to know you. I can’t have a relationship with Bridgette, but if my parents are okay with it, I do want a relationship with you.” Marinette admits, holding her breath as she waits for an answer. There’s silence on the other end for a long moment, but just as Marinette’s about to apologize and tell him he can go and pretend she doesn’t exist, he answers. His voice a little softer this time. 
“I would like that.” 
---
The paternity test came out positive, to no one’s surprise. Bruce had given Marinette the option of meeting somewhere more public (like a restaurant or museum) to bond, or coming over to the manor. Not quite ready to deal with the possibility of paparazzi and the rumors (no matter how true they may be) that would stem from a public visit, Marinette agreed to going to the manor for dinner. Which is how she ended up sitting in silence in a town car with a man who seemed like he knew more than he was letting on. 
“So, you’re the one who raised Mr. Wayne?” Marinette asks, not quite ready to call the man “Dad” or any variation of the word. The man nods and she meets his eyes in the rearview mirror. 
“Indeed, Miss. I am Alfred Pennyworth.” The man, Monsieur Pennyworth, says calmly. She tries not to let the frustration that she feels building show on her face. She feels like she should know this man, like there’s something important that she’s just barely missing. 
“Have we met before?” Marinette finally asks, racking her brain as she tries to figure out why this man is so familiar to her. 
“I don’t believe so, Miss Dupain Cheng.” He says, and for the first time since meeting him, it doesn’t feel like he’s all knowing. Instead, it feels like he’s just as confused as she is. Drat. She opens her mouth to question him more, when the huge manor becomes visible in the distance. Eyes widening, Marinette forgets everything else and turns her attention to the beautiful architecture. The giant fence and metal gates do little to hide the massive house. Sections of the house rise above others, almost as if there are towers. Dozens of windows are visible, as is the giant fountain at the front of the house. Ripping her sketchbook out of her bag, Marinette immediately starts sketching out the ideas that attack her mind. Dresses and suits and skirts, all using the architecture in front of her for the basic shapes of the outfits. As the car goes past the gate and the gardens come into view, Marinette can’t hold back her shocked gasp. Shaped hedges and flowers, hundreds of different colored flowers, and trees and- it was beautiful. Almost too perfect. Like something that belonged in a movie. She jumps slightly as the car door is opened, Alfred standing on the other side with an eyebrow quirked up. Right. She was actually getting out of the car. And going into this massive house. And spending time with her biological- nope. She can’t do this. She can’t- 
“Miss Dupain Cheng, if it makes you feel any better, Master Bruce seems to have run into some traffic on his way back from the office. You’ll have a few minutes to gather your bearings inside before he arrives.” Alfred says softly. Relief washes over her and she nods, finally moving to get out of the car. 
“Thank you, Alfred.” She says, smiling at the man. He nods back at her before leading her up the steps to the door. He opens it and then steps back, allowing her to take a tentative step into the house. Her previous panic is pushed aside as she realizes the inside is just as gorgeous as the outside. Immediately turning back to her sketchbook, she tunes out the world around her and just stands in the foyer, scribbling furiously into her sketchbook. 
“Um, hi?” A voice says, making Marinette yelp and jump, eyes scanning her surroundings until they fall on a guy. A pretty tall guy. 
“Hi.” She says softly, also confused as to who this guy was. Not her- dad-biological father-other part of her DNA-father-Mr. Wayne- not anyone she had ever met, that’s for sure. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Dick Grayson.” The man says, extending his hand, a smile on his face. Anyone else probably would have thought the smile was sincere, but Marinette had always been good at reading emotions. And she could tell that he was wary of her. Why would he- oh. Grayson. As in, Richard Grayson, as in this man was her brother. Or, well, maybe he wouldn’t want to be. Maybe he would think that she’s ridiculous or that she’s just here to get money or here to try and pull apart Mr. Wayne’s family or maybe he would think that she was trying to take his place and she would never but maybe he would hate her and- She takes in a deep breath, trying desperately to ground herself and wishing she’d taken up Adrien’s earlier offer of him coming with. 
“I’m Marinette. Marinette Dupain Cheng.” She finally says, reaching out and shaking his hand. He nods, obviously still confused. So Mr. Wayne hadn’t mentioned her. Did he hate her? Did he ask her here to have her sign a NDA? Did he not want anything to do with her? Of course he wouldn’t, he obviously already had a family. A family that he chose, not one that he had by accident. His name was on her birth certificate, surely he would have found her sooner if he actually wanted anything to do with her? He chose Dick Grayson to be his son. He wanted him. He didn’t want Marinette. He-
“Ah, Marinette. I see you’ve met Dick.” The last voice she needed to hear says calmly as he walks through the door. Marinette swallows back the thickness in her throat, the one that tells her the tears will be starting soon. 
“Uh, yes. Mr. Wayne. Um, hi.” She says, flinching slightly when he winces. What did she do wrong this time? Was he really going to tell her to take a hike? If he didn’t hate her before, he surely did now. 
“Bruce, what’s going-” Dick starts to ask but is cut off by screaming voices getting closer to them.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Demon Spawn?” 
“Not my fault your blocking skills are subpar, Todd.”
“Sub- you almost stabbed me, you little shit!”
“Almost, yes. But I didn’t. I’m sure Father will be pleased with my restraint.” 
“You little fu-” “Boys!” Mr. Wayne finally yells as the two screaming walk into view. Both freeze and the younger one’s eyes instantly fall on Marinette, narrowing as he takes a defensive position. 
“Another one, Bruce, really?” The older one asks, making Marinette flinch back. Of course. Two more of his sons-her brothers- who he chose. Another two that he wanted. Not like her, someone he was going to be forced to know. Unless he told her tonight that he never wanted to speak to her again and made her sign a paper saying that she would never contact him again and then they would never have to worry about seeing her again and- oh this is a lot. 
“What were you two doing?” Mr. Wayne finally asks, and that’s when Marinette sees the weapons in their hands. And the blood on the older man’s shirt. The man turns slightly so that that part of his shirt is hidden when he notices her staring. 
“Uh, bonding?” He says, not at all convincing. 
“Who is that, Father?” The younger boy asks, the utter distaste clear on both his face and in his tone. And this is it. This is where he’s going to say that she’s no one, she’s nothing, and then he’s going to make her sign that stupid piece of paper and the last chance she has at knowing one of her biological parents is going to fly out the window. Poof. And then she’ll be so embarrassed, she won’t be able to go back on the trip and then she’ll have to change her name but she can’t completely run away yet because of stupid Hawkmoth and-
“This is Marinette, my daughter.” Well that was unexpected.
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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years
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meet clay, he knows how you'll die.
intro filler chapter sorry
☾ pairing: dream x reader
☾ cw: interact at your own risk; contains graphic depictions of various character death and violence, suicide, blood, gore, and other triggering material. angst, language, guns, adult content, mentions of sex, slow burn friends to lovers
☾ wc: ~4100
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Clay pulled the strap of his backpack further on his shoulder as he wove through the mindless sea of college students, eyes scanning the crowd for you, his best friend and the only person he could stand at the early hour. His knuckles flashed white as he sighed, taking the blunt impact of someone walking into him. He removed one of his headphones, mumbling a quick apology and swatting off the enthusiastically apologetic sophomore girl. All he could focus on was how much she bit her lip as she stammered on about not seeing him. It wasn’t alluring to him when most girls tried to sway his affections by looking at him with a puppy dog expression; all his mind drifted to was the dead skin across the body of her lower lip.
He finally nodded and reinstated his headphone, turning on his heel and heading for the front of the building. He received a few greetings from his peers as they crossed his path, people who shared past lectures with him and who had cheated off of him during exams. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he stayed out of people’s business and didn’t express his opinions loudly, so people tended to like him. The autumn breeze picked up as he stood in the dwellings of political science majors on the front lawn, acting as if they hadn’t seen one another in years when it had been only a few days. Clay absent-mindedly looked down at his cellphone, flipping through music as he leaned against the cool brick of the hall’s facade, waiting for you to find him.
Clay’s usual brooding manner was often off-putting to outsiders, with the careless-hollow look in his eyes giving bystanders the impression that he was nothing but a machiavellian. But you always saw the brightness in him; the side that you always experienced was specifically for you, and he made sure to keep it that way. You had wedged herself into his life and he was ever grateful for the love you had given him.
Despite the understood truth between the two of you that nothing was to be left unsaid, Clay still found himself keeping one of the most important aspects of his character unknown to you. His bloodcurdling secret was his own curse, something that would only be poison for another soul to know.
“What’s up, stud?” Somehow a flush of relief rippled through Clay’s body as his eyes locked to yours, pulling him from his isolated shell. Your hair looked brighter today against the dark hoodie peeking out from beneath an all too familiar bomber jacket. The wind fluffed your locks slightly as you continued towards him.
His eyebrows perked up as if to signal he was attempting to downplay his excited demeanor. “Stud, huh?” You smirked at his response, taking one of his headphones and putting it in your own ear, her face angled up to Clay as you waited to recognize the song, swaying slightly.
He chuckled as you shrunk away from him after muttering the song’s artist disappointedly and rolling your eyes, pulling on his hoodie pocket to follow you. As chaotic as his life often felt, he could always rely on the consistency of you. You usually attached yourself to one of his backpack straps, handles, his belt loop, or ended up under his arm, wedged against his side. It had gotten to the point that he felt naked if you weren’t within arm’s length of him, which was rare for the two of you. “So, I have something for you.” He smugly looked down at you, green eyes masking a hidden sparkle as you handed him a can of root beer, making him chuckle.
“Aren’t you sweet?” He popped the tab, taking a sip as you waved at a group of girls passing the two of you before slipping your hand against the crook of his elbow where his hoodie sleeves were pushed back.
“Actually, I was hoping it could be payment for later. I need to head over to the cemetery for some rubbings. History 270 has me getting into some weird shit, huh?” He laughed again at you, offering you the drink.
“And you need wheels?” You nodded and smiled politely at him, beaming at his words. “Yeah, alright. I have to sketch something for art anyway.” He thought about the week’s assignment and then about your little project he had dealt with the prior year. You had acted like the two of you hadn’t been to the cemetery on a regular basis, but he was grateful that you wanted him to come along with you.
You quietly jumped once. “You are my hero in faded denim, Clay. You know that, right?”
The two of you parted ways to your select destinations, one of Clay’s least favorite parts of the day, which was only solidified as he sunk into his seat and attempted to look equipped for the lecture. He spotted an unfamiliar kid shaking his knee in a distant section of the classroom. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but the sie of the class had given him the pleasantries of getting his own personal curse out of the way on the first day.
He carefully watched the boy speak smugly to a few of the more athletic kids in the room. One of the athletes pointed to the general direction Clay was sitting in and they all moved towards him. He, yet again, took out his headphones, knowing full well that they would be talking to him for the rest of the class.
“Oi, Shaman,” one of the main guys greeted Clay like they always did: a strange pattern of slapping and shaking his hand. He was thankful he had gotten all of their first impressions months prior and didn’t have to worry about getting their scenarios again, but he geared up to meet the new kid.
“How are you, Punz?” Clay took a deep breath as the new kid was gestured to and brought into the light.
“This is Mark. He’s a transfer from one of the commuter campuses. Mark, this is the mastermind you pay for notes.”
Clay sarcastically smiled at Punz. “My, you flatter me more than any girl. Nice to meet you, man.” As soon as he touched Mark’s hand, Clay’s mind flashed to a dingy-looking barn out in the middle of nowhere before an older man in his mid-thirties came into view with a lever-action rifle in his hand. In another flash, Clay was in front of the man, now kneeling with the gun in his mouth, red, blurry eyes looking straight through Clay. A pang of guilt broke open in Clay’s stomach as he pushed against the handguard lever and pulled it back into place, squeezing the trigger and sending Ckay back to the class. He let out a sigh and fought to plaster one of his less absent smiles.
“Speaking of our lovely girls, Mark here has a question about her.” Clay’s head tilted towards Mark, not exactly squaring up to him, but sending him an amused look as if to warn him not to cross a line, knowing full-well this conversation would somehow involve you. “We all know that no guy would ever intrude on her without your blessing, but Mark sat near her on the bus before his first class and was thinking about asking her out.”
Clay bit back a laugh, feeling like the Vito Corleone. “Well, you know her, Punz, and you know she would be mortified if I told some guy to fuck off, so I would just ask her yourself?” Oh, how desperately Clay wanted to bash Mark for not even telling Clay himself and the fact that the boy before him was nowhere near your type, but Clay knew better than to burn bridges and he felt bad for the way Mark would meet his end.
Nobody, not even you, knew about Clay’s gift. In the going-on-five years of knowing you, he came breaths away from letting his secret slip but has always kept it hidden, hoping to bury it with him after being married to you for forty happy years.
The visions started around his fifth-grade year, beginning with vivid dreams of dying in the midst of the Civil War, feeling the warm gushing of blood leaving his system, and the stabbing pain of being shot multiple times beside a woman who oddly looked enough like you that he almost called out your name. He had lived what he presumed to be his death in the life before this one several times, each vision taking him a few clicks further.
Soon, he found himself catching glimpses of others’ deaths before they happened as soon as they touched him, but thankfully it was usually over with no time passing and he only endured the visions once for each person, fate having already sealed itself. The only person who seemed to mix him up was you.
It was love at first sight for him, but as soon as you touched his arm, bleak snapshots of a boating accident raced into his mind, only to have to re-experience the scenario a few months later with you stepping in front of a train. Even as a measly high school freshman, he promised himself that there was no way he was letting you die in the gruesome manners being predicted to you. He didn’t think changing fate was possible until he witnessed you in action. He hated seeing you so young in each of the glimpses, tearing him to shreds as he knew time and time again that there was no way he could change what was meant to be.
There were even times when he quietly promised you that he’d die by your side if he couldn’t stop it.
As his lecture let out, Clay found you tucked into a corner of the library, smiling to yourself silently as knew you had finally found what you were looking for in one of the massive books before you. There were many moments like this that Clay wished he could pause and remember for the rest of his life. He was proud that you were there for him even though you could have left instead of playing your own little game of library scavenger hunts.
Since knowing you, he had taken note of how you treated other boys, usually as first dates and never true pick-ups. You didn’t care if they called you the next day or not and he was sure you had never even been kissed before. Something about your guys’ relationship gave others the nod to leave it the fuck alone, and that your heart truly belonged to Clay; a responsibility he wished didn’t plague you with. Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to be with you, only worried that what you had would be destroyed because he knew that as soon as he told you about his gift, you might leave.
You always brought a bag of marbles and a bouquet of flowers to the cemetery. You loved to find the tombstones that looked neglected or ones with older dates, knowing that the possibility of having family members who remembered the person was lower. The trees in the graveyard were reds and yellows with the changing season, leaves scattered over the grass, naturally piling in large masses. This was your favorite for how neglected it seemed to always be. You had a knack for making inanimate objects and lost souls feel loved; Clay often feeling like he was one of these disembodied figures.
Clay leaned his back against one of the massive trees a few paces from the tombstone you had picked, smiling as he watched you carry out her routine. He flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook as you sat cross-legged in front of the great stone resting place, pulling the long-dead flowers from the concrete gauntlet and replenishing a few flowers in their place while setting an equal number of marbles along the grass line of the stone. A daisy was tucked behind your ear as you ran her fingers against the worn chiseling of the dates, smiling slightly. He began to sketch you out. Your eyes drifted to him before the corners of your mouth curled up into a smirk and you returned to her previous position, straightening your shoulders. “Who is it?” He asked, blending a rough edge with the pads of his finger as you tilted your head at the script carvings.
“George McAfee. Born 1926. Died 1963.” The wind picked up, blowing your hair away from your face as you pulled your jacket closer around you. “What was happening in 1963?” You turned your head to him momentarily before looking back at the lucky man. “I mean besides Beatlemania and JFK’s assassination?”
Clay outstretched one of his legs, swallowing as he thought, his eyes fluttering from the page in front of him to you. “Well, Alcatraz was shut down, Studebaker stopped production, the USSR sent the first woman into space…” he trailed off, watching you as the gears began to spin in your head.
“Do you think he died in the Coliseum explosion?” You wet your lips and he couldn’t help but smile at you.
“Maybe he died in the USS Thresher sinking?” He was thankful that he could capture your thoughtful gaze in this picture.
“You’re smart, Dream. Have I ever told you that?” He chuckled at the sigh in your voice. He detailed the bomber jacket you were wearing---which you’d stolen from his closet god knows when---a bit as you placed a piece of paper over the engraving and rubbed a crayon against the stone, his name coming to life on the paper as you came to life on Clay’s. It didn’t matter why you two would be in the cemetery, you always had a type of bond with the dead, surprising Clay due to how bright you were and your power of holding onto so much compassion. He threw his sketchbook into his backpack and slug in over his shoulder, moving to help you up. You decided to give the rest of the flowers to George as Clay stood next to you, gazing down at his grave.
A high-pitched moan startled the two of you, snapping your heads to look over the hedges separating your section of graves and the one beside it. Clay’s eyes widened as they fell to a girl in all black with porcelain skin propped on top of one of the tombstones. You clasped your hand over his mouth pulling him onto the ground next to you as you peered through a hole in the bushes. His mind noticed your arms first. One of them was secured over his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder from beneath his arm, holding onto him as he steadied himself in the weird crouching position. “Are you enjoying this?” He jeered, looking over his shoulder slightly as he heard you snicker. The girl began to ride the stone harder.
“How many times in your life are you going to see a girl humping a gravestone? Honestly, Clay, how many?” He shook his head as you both looked at the girl, giggling to yourselves. You dug her face into his shoulder trying to stifle the next laugh trying to rip through your body as the gothic girl moaned, letting out more labored breaths. Clay’s face contorted into a twisted look of disgust as the girl tugged on her own hair. “Oh, do you think that hurts?” You took the words out of his mouth, tightening your arms around him as he shrugged.
“I doubt it’s any rockier than sex with a human.” He bit his lip, a hollow sound interrupting him quietly laughing at his own joke as you thumped him in the chest. The girl moaned louder. “Alright, she’s climaxing. I’m uncomfortable now.” Clay stood and Willow popped up next to him, lacing your fingers with his, bringing color back to his cheeks as you slipped the remaining marbles into his pocket.
“Oh, hi!” In the midst of holding hands with you again and trying to slink back to his car, he hadn’t even realized that the moaning had stopped. The girl now stood near the two of you in what seemed to be a black slip. Clay found it hard to make direct eye contact with her. “Are you guys looking for someone?”
“We were, but we couldn’t find him so-” you began, gesturing for Clay’s car and pulling him next to you.
“Well, I can help. Who are you looking for?” A thousand sarcastically vulgar comments ran through Clay’shead but his eyes flickered from her face to the tombstone she was on previously.
“Uh, my grandpa. His name was Rupert Daniels,” Clay managed to choke out. Your nails dug into his arm while your hand squeezed his. The girl looked around at the surrounding stones.
“I don’t see him right now, but I can look?” You both shook your heads quickly and muttered various responses before finally slipping away from her and getting into his car. Neither of you said anything as you pulled off the gravel driveway until crossing the railroad tracks when Clay burst out laughing.
“Do you think she even knew who it was she was gettin’ it on with or did she just pick somewhere random?” Clay laughed harder at your stunned response. “I’m serious. Clay, what the fuck. How can someone even get off in a cemetery?”
“I don’t know, man. Would you hook up with someone in a cemetery?” Clay quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at you, causing you to laugh. You dug into his console, pulling out a bag of M&Ms you had stashed in there last week, popping one in your mouth.
“Only if it was you.”
He giggled. “Excuse me, what?”
“There are just some things you do with certain people, Dream. You know what I mean.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered I’m the only one you would have sex with in a cemetery, or like, disgusted?” You laughed at his reaction.
Within ten minutes the sun had begun to set and Clay sang loudly with you to the song playing over the radio as Clay sped along one of the county roads near your apartment complex, not wanting the night to end. He loved these moments with you. You turned down the radio and threw your hair back into a ponytail. “So, what do you think of that new kid, Mark?” Something in Clay shifted, taking away the free feeling he had recently possessed next to you. He thought carefully.
He chewed his bottom lip. “Depends on what you think?”
“Well, he seems like a wannabe Punz. And he asked me out. Naturally, I said ‘yes’ because maybe he’s different?” Clay chuckled at your sarcasm, putting his car in park on the side of the street your flat was on and getting out with you. The radio still hummed in the air lowly. “He insisted on Friday, though.” Clay dramatically acted like you had stabbed him in the heart, even though it did hurt. Friday night was their night. It had been a running tradition for movie night every Friday since your freshman year and you had never canceled on Clay for a date. “I know, I know. But I figured that I’d tell him I had diarrhea when it hit eight o’clock and be over at your place with an extra pizza? Your roommate’s working right?” He chuckled with a nod, walking you up the first three steps to your place as you made it to the concrete landing. You turned to him. “And he said he was taking me somewhere fancy, so I’ll snag you some breadsticks.” He tilted his head at you as you winked at him.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Wanna be Punz might be fun. Maybe I’ll call up Minx and hang out with her?” He joked. Minx was a friend of yours that hung out with the two of you sometimes. He had never really liked her, but she was friends with you and thus he was always civil.
“You’re still my number one, babe.” You pushed him slightly as you climbed a few more steps, leaning on the railing as he waved to leave. “Hey, Dream?” He turned on his heel as you forced yourself to make eye contact. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “You could kiss me, you know? For science.” You smiled softly at him from where you were perched. He wet his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to scale the steps and close the space between you, to knock you off your feet and show you just how much he was in love with you.
He hated himself. “A first kiss should have more magic in it than just for science. As a romantic, you should know first hand.” You smiled at the ground in front of you.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The two of you seemed to shake off the serious moment as you stuck your tongue out at him and slipped inside your house as both giggled.
“I love you,” he murmured as you left, punching himself in the shoulder as he got back into his car.
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Clay’s heartbeat pulsed in his ears, making him truly believe he was going to pass out. He had lost his gun at least a mile back. He was running mindlessly now, not knowing how long or where he was going. He trudged through the forest, hearing dogs barking and gunshots erupting around him, the ringing in his ears building with every step he forced himself to make. He wanted to rip open the front of his jacket to release the body heat drenching his collar, but he didn’t move other than propelling his body further and further away from the soldiers. You ran beside him, holding your skirt up while your hair danced around your shoulders like a great waterfall. As soon as his body felt like it might just give out, he would look at you and somehow find more of a drive to pull forward. His breaths were brittle and hoarse as he drew in borrowed oxygen. His lungs felt shallow like they were giving out on him.
You reached back, grasping his hand and pulling him into a sharp corner, hoping to lose the group. You both had managed to weave into the forest, but the dogs were somehow still picking up on your scent. The pair of you finally came upon a clearing and kneeled down out of sight, spotting a house in the middle of a glen. Bullets were streaming through the air. The forest was catching fire and cannons were echoing through the distant air. You squeezed his hand tightly, looking at him with terror in your eyes. He had gotten the two of you into this mess, but he was glad he was beside you.
He pulled you to your feet as the pair of you sprinted for a distant house. A sharp pain stabbed into Clay’s back, making him drop to the ground. How did he not hear the gun? You dropped to your feet, your eyes welling with tears, ripping at his jacket, but he pushed you off, telling you to leave quickly. He leaned forward, eyes locking on the soldiers in gray coming towards them, reloading their rifles. He groaned, pushing himself up, but only having the same stabbing sensation two more times in his chest. He heard you scream, but he couldn’t see you.
His hands were going numb as he touched where the bullets entered, feeling the warm and sticky crimson substance seep between his fingers. The soldiers reached you before you had made it to the house, pulling you to the ground next to him. You were crying heavily as you looked at him. Everything began to run quiet as you held onto him tightly. You were saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear you. He was only aware of his jacket soaking with blood. He coughed, wanting to tell you he loved you one last time, but you were tugged away from him, pressed to one of the men in gray. He raised a hand to you as you fought against the man. And then everything went dark.
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Dream Tag List: (hopefully this works)
@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @camerondiaz48104 @victory-is-here @rat-poisin @alm334 @acidluvs @pachowpachowbucket @bbigbbrainn @cdizzlevalntyne @idiotinnit @generallysleepdeprived @sacvf @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @essencee @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @jenlouvre @victoria-a567 @miilliiie @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @carlyferrell @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @nyxieahh @quivvyintheclouds @sarcasticmichelle @book-of-anarchy @millavalntyne @lightdreamy @baddiesforcorpse @sunnynapp @fantasy-innit @rat-poisin @wreny24 @deepestofwaters @exenestea @indecisivehusky @fallxnly @alm334 @skaratjung @punzcanrailme @sap-naps @denki-exe @angeltears18 @silvemistxe33 @andreamalik6 @kris-stuff @sun-fiower-seed @where-thesundoesntshine @dilfdream @esmegregory04 @itsparasocial @mlqcool @mcgoddess404 @rinatdawn @chaoscait @peppermintkisses @libbynotfound @speedrunningtherapy @lunxramour @aoonai @loraleiix @ghoulpixiie
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Text
Incorrect Fallout 3 Quotes #2
Charon, trying to get a couch out of the upstairs Craterside Supply: Pivot!...Pivot!....Pivot!....PIVOT!...PIVOT!! PIVOT!!!!
Butch: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! Charon: Okay, I don't think it's gonna pivot anymore.
Butch & Lone Wanderer: YOU THINK?!
Charon: Fine...let's bring it back down and try again.
All Three: *Struggling*
Charon: I can't believe that didn't work!
Lone Wanderer: I know! You even had a sketch!
Butch: Oh, hey, Charon? What did you mean by pivot?
~~~
Charon: Man I'm feeling down.
Butch: Would it help if I got the suit?
Charon:...yes.
Butch comes in wearing a banana suit and holding maracas:
~~~
Fawkes: Are we really going to let Lone keep Jericho? Charon: We kept Butch. ~~~
Fawkes: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?
Jericho: Several traffic violations.
Butch: Three counts of resisting arrest. Charon: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Lone Wanderer: Also, that’s not our car.
~~~
Fawkes: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Charon: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! Lone Wanderer: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Butch: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! Jericho: My moral code, is that you? Fawkes: Fawkes: I was just gonna show you this trunk Uncle Leo left me but do you guys need a hug?
~~~
Fawkes: What’s something you guys are better than Butch at? Lone Wanderer: Mario Kart. Jericho: Yeah, video games. Charon: Emotional vulnerability.
~~~
Fawkes: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one! Lone Wanderer: Tubular AF! Butch: Mood to the max! Charon, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it. Jericho, just as annoyed: If she breathes, she’s a square.
~~~
Bumble: What does 'take out' mean? Lone Wanderer: Food. Butch: Dating Charon: Murder Jericho: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD!
~~~
Lone Wanderer: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Butch will and will not eat. Charon: Grass? Yes! Lone Wanderer: Moss? Yes!! Charon: Leaves? Ohh, yes! Lone Wanderer: Shoelaces? Strange but true! Charon: Worms? Sometimes! Lone Wanderer: Rocks? Usually nah. Charon: Twigs? Usually! Lone Wanderer: Jericho's cooking? Inconclusive! Fawkes: How did you… test this? Lone Wanderer: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it. Fawkes: ... I don’t know how to feel about this. Jericho: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?
~~~
Fawkes: Where's Lone, Charon, and Butch? Jericho: They're playing hide and seek. Fawkes: Where? Jericho: I don't think you get how this game works.
~~~
Jericho: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Fawkes: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Jericho: Three of us saw it, Fawkes. How do you explain that? Fawkes: *Points at Charon* Sleep deprivation. *Points at Butch* Paranoia. *Points at Lone Wanderer* Delusional personality disorder.
~~~
Jericho: Truth or dare? Butch: Dare Jericho: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room Butch: Hey Lone? Lone Wander, blushing: Yeah? Butch: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Charon.
~~~
Fawkes: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three- Fawkes and Lone Wanderer, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks! Butch: Our turn, Charon! One, two, three- vanilla! Charon, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.
~~~
Jericho: I just ended a four-year relationship. Fawkes: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Jericho: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship. *Butch & Charon fighting from across the room*
~~~
Charon, Lone Wanderer, and Butch are sitting on a bench Fawkes: Why do you guys look so sad? Charon: Sit down with us so we can tell you. *Fawkes sits down* Lone Wanderer: The bench is freshly painted.
~~~
Fawkes: Can I be frank with you guys? Butch: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help. Charon: Can I still be Charon? Jericho, drunk: Shh, let Frank speak.
~~~
Cross: *Trying to fill out legal paperwork stuff* Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB? Charon: Bold of you to assume I was born at all. Fawkes: I personally was created in a lab. Lone Wanderer: I just straight up spawned lol.
~~~
Butch: Yo is Jericho sleeping or dead? Charon: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts. Fawkes: Yeah, so did I. Jericho: Okay first of all, fuck you-
~~~
Fawkes: How did none of you hear what I just said? Lone Wanderer: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours. Butch: I got distracted about halfway through. Jericho: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.
~~~
Butch: *Screams* MacCready: *Screams louder to establish dominance* Fawkes: Should we do something? Lone Wanderer: No, I want to see who wins.
~~~
Fawkes: Wake me up… Lone Wanderer: Before you go go! Butch: When September ends… Charon: WAKE ME UP INSIDE-
~~~
Fawkes: Dammit, Butch! Butch: What?! It wasn’t me! Fawkes: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Lone! Lone Wander: Not me either. Fawkes: Oh...Then who set the house on fire? Dogmeat: *Barks*
~~~
*Jericho is helping Lone Wanderer out after they get injured, while the others are watching*
Butch: How does Lone look?
Charon: A little better than you, actually.
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gisachi · 3 years
Note
Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️
So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;
P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰
41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)
.
.
.
Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.
She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.
She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.
So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.
She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.
Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’
He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.
Eventually.
“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”
Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.
“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.
“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”
“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”
She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.
For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.
.
.
Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.
She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.
Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.
And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.
“Ran? She’s pretty special.”
Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.
“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.
“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.
“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”
“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.
“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”
“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.
Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.
“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.
“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”
“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”
“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”
“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”
“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”
Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.
In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.
.
.
Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.
The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Nah, just swamped with work.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to assist?”
“No.”
Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.
“Ran, hey. Look at me.”
His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.
When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.
“You’re… stressed.”
“No, I’m… Eh?”
He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”
Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.
“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”
“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”
Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”
“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”
He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”
Her heart throbs for him. So much.
She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.
After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.
With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.
Just for that night, she gives it to herself.
She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.
.
.
Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.
The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.
“I love you.”
Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.
“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”
The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.
Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.
“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”
“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.
“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”
Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.
“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”
“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”
“Just you two?”
“Yeah.”
A beat. Then he turns to her.
“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”
“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”
“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”
“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”
“Ah.”
Silence.
“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.
“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”
“Mm.”
He doesn’t say anything else after that.
“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.
“Yeah...and?”
Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.
“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”
Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.
“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.
Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.
Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.
Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.
.
.
Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.
Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.
Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.
“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”
“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”
“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”
“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.
“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”
“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”
Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”
“In Akita.”
Her pupils constrict. “That far?”
“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”
Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—
“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.
Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”
Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.
“Ran, hey.”
She doesn’t stop walking.
“Ran.”
She ignores his call.
“Ran… you’re jealous.”
She stops walking.
“Excuse me?”
“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.
A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.
For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”
Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.
It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...
It stings, is her immediate reaction.
For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.
Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.
“Ran…?”
“I am not, and you’re a fool.”
In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.
If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.
After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.
“Stop... running... will you!”
She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.
“Let me go!”
“Why are you running?!”
“I can’t...deal with you!”
“Why? Was I right?”
“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”
“Why doesn’t it matter?”
“Because I am your best friend!”
On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.
“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.
“What are you— Let me go!”
He hugs her tighter.
“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”
“I am happy!”
Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.
Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”
“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”
“What? No! I—”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”
“That’s not...You don’t underst—”
“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”
“Stop saying that, Ran!”
She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.
All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.
An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.
“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”
She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.
They look like a scene in a movie.
Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.
She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.
Best friend.
This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.
She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”
She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.
“Ran!”
He shouts her name. Twice.
On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.
She doesn’t.
.
.
Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.
It’s the start of winter break.
He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.
She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.
She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.
“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”
“Shinichi.”
His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”
Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.
“May I come in?”
“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”
“I’ll help you.”
“...”
She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.
Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.
On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.
She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.
What has he been thinking of for the past week?
Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?
Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?
The kiss... What about the kiss?
So many questions. So little words. So little time.
Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.
A ringing phone cuts the silence.
“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”
If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.
That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.
“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.
Ran’s eyes fly wide.
“How did you…”
He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.
Again with the throat-drying silence.
Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.
“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”
Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”
He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”
Unable to talk and move, she does.
“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”
He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.
“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”
She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.
“Ran.”
“Mm.”
“I love you.”
Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.
“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”
All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.
“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.
“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.
“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”
Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.
“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”
Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.
“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”
He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.
“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.
“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”
Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.
In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.
She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.
Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.
“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”
Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.
“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”
“I’m...I’m not dense.”
“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.
“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”
“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”
“You did though. Now we’re here.”
“Would you rather we aren’t?”
“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”
“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”
“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”
Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.
“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”
“Eh?”
“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”
“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”
“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”
Ran falls quiet.
“Geez…”
He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.
“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”
She darts her head sideways, realizing something.
“Were you also…?”
“No.”
Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.
“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”
“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.
“Shinichi.”
“Yes.”
“I love you too.”
The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.
“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.
Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.
“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.
“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.
“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”
Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.
It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—
“Face me, Ran.”
The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.
She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.
Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.
“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”
A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.
“From best friend to... such a shift-”
“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”
She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.
“What about when we fight?” she asks.
“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”
“...Like right now?”
“Like right now.”
A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.
.
.
Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.
Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.
Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.
She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.
“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”
“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”
“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.
“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”
“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.
“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”
“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”
“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.
From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.
“Why?” He asks in a low voice.
“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”
“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.
Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.
But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”
The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.
She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry,  and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.
“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.
“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”
“Idiot, many people saw...”
“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”
Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.
“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”
“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”
So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.
“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”
The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”
“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.
Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.
.
.
.
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hongjoongtrasher · 3 years
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the beauty and the beast (chapter 2)
word count: 5k around
angst, fluff, smut
triger warnings: mention of child abuse, violence etc.
series masterlist
Synopsis:
When you move to a new city due to your father's job, you don't expect to stay for a long and so decided not to get attached to the world around you.
But still, you are "the new girl", unwillingly attracting people's attention because of your family's background. Your strict father expects a lot from you, not to say perfection. And when you are sit next to a certain Jung Yunho, you didn't expect your life to take a radical turn
Yunho always have been hating wealthy people. Or just people who were boasting about all the damn money they had and he hadn’t. Oh maybe it was childish to hate richer than himself, but he didn’t hate them for no reasons. He always felt disgusted by their pity, the way they would just «burn some cash » because they could, because they had too much. He concluded every rich guy was like this, and you weren’t an exception. At the very moment his eyes landed on your person, he could instantly feel this familiar aura. A daddy’s girl, probably richer than everyone’s parents in this school. And just the fact of you sitting next to him was driving him crazy.
He ignored you all the time. And he was glad in a way you didn’t try to talk to him, because he would have snapped all his hatred he was feeling towards people like you. But for a fact, he could admit that you weren’t acting like other rich kids around. The way you flinched when his friend was about to lift his hand at you, also the fact you were lonelier than he thought. Oh yes he indeed noticed you being the silent girl around, and at first he thought it was because you were the new girl, and that it was just a facade and soon or later you would just boast like the others.
It’s already been two weeks since you arrived here and yet you were as quiet as usual. You tried to acclimatize to every thing but as the good girl you were, your father thought it was a good opportunity for you to get into extra classes. Last night, you came back home near midnight, exhausted by this long day after studying like crazy. That’s why you didn’t even care to look at Yunho this morning when you sat down, as usual not peeping a word to him since the incident on the rooftop. Actually you tried to flip over and over again the same problem. Why he hated you this much ? But after some days, you understood he was hating every one the same way. Skipping classes, or when he was making act of presence just sleeping on his desk became the routine but today he was here. You quietly opened your bag to settle your pencils and workbooks. Yunho’s back facing you while he was probably taking a nap. Your English teacher came and when she started the class, she stated. « Alright guys, today you’ll be paired up. I want you to improvise a short sketch with what you learnt this past week. Just pair up with your neighbor. You have fifteen minutes »
Your eyes widened at her statement as you felt your heart throbs violently into your chest. Being in a team with Yunho was probably the last thing you thought which could become true today. And speaking of him, you heard a groan next to you, making you freezing as he slowly turned to you before staring at you.
« Just telling you, I don’t have a clue of what she said, so don’t expect me to do well »
How nonchalant he was at this moment almost made you scoff.
« You should have been here then. » you groaned back while opening your notebook.
His brows quirked at how you answered to him.
« Someone got more brave huh ? » he said before straightening on his chair and looked at the textbook of yours on your desk and took it to read the last two pages to your astonishment.
« Didn’t bring it, so I’ll just use yours. » he explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
« Great. » you answered and just scribbles some words on a page. You didn’t want to waste your time for such a jerk like him? At least you would have done your task by yourself, just for yourself and not him. You couldn’t let Yunho drag your grades down…You couldn’t just relax yourself.
Some silence installed between you two while others students were trying to do the task your teacher asked, but instead, Yunho took time to actually look at you. Somehow you looked exhausted, non to say to the verge of fainting. Your lips were pale, and dirk circles could be seen under your eyes.
« Didn’t sleep well last night ? » he asked randomly as he pretended to read the book under his eyes.
You badly wanted to ignore him. What the heck ? Just few weeks ago he openly said he hated you so you just accepted this fact and now he was chatting like you as nothing happened ?
« Studied late » you answered drily.
« Ha, I see you went to those extra classes which are costing your butt’s skin. »
You offered him a dark glare, making him look into your eyes. If course he wasn’t attending any of this, so he couldn’t really understand the situation you were in.
« And ? Is it going to change your life ? »
He shrugged.
« No, but I guess you’re a hardcore student » he hummed before he took his pencil to write down some words on his own paper. « Must be so boring » he added mockingly.
You wanted to answer back to him and spit how rude he was from the first place. You acknowledged the fact your life was boring as fuck, you were the first one to say it, but there were limits to making fun of this matter. Soon your teacher clapped her hands to catch everyone’s attention.
« Alright guys, it’s time. Who want to go first ? »
It was the usual game of « I don’t know what you’re saying », essentially based on avoid your teachers’ eyes and doing as you was busy enough not to make her choosing you. Your teacher smirked. « I see everyone’s eager to go, soooo…Y/N and Yunho, you go first. »
You panicked a bit, because except this little conversation you both hadn’t talked at all about your coed work. But Yunho didn’t seem bothered by this at all and stood up with his paper and just nudged your shoulder so you could stand up and go to the front with him. What was he playing at ?
Actually you thought Yunho was someone who didn’t give a shit to studies. His consecutive absences were not helping for his case but surprisingly, he opened the sketch with a good English. So good that you were surprised, making you go blank for a second. He looked at you before moving his lips silently « Y/N. » You shook your head and continued this weird play. At the end, your teacher seemed satisfied by your work and allowed you to go back to your sits so the next pair could go on.
When you sat down again, you looked at Yunho again.
« I thought you would’t do well » you mumbled.
He laughed lowly and it troubled you. It was the first time you heard him laugh. The first time he wasn’t showing hostility to you.
« You may think I’m a lazy ass, but I got some things stocked in this » he whispered, pointing at his head before leaning back on his chair.
Classes ended soon for the usual lunch break. Yunho got up and got out of the room without a word for you, as usual. Today you decided to stay into the classroom to eat. You never went back on the rooftop since you met the three boys. As you were unpacking the lunchpack you got from Sookja, you just took some time to think about this morning. Was Yunho being nice to you a sign to be more suspicious of him ? You were into your thought when you heard a voice calling your name.
« Y/N ? »
You looked up and saw a girl standing at your desk.
« Huh…Yeah ? »
She smiled to you and said.
« I’m Jisoo, erm…we’re in the same class and…I…Would you like to eat lunch with me ? » she asked shyly.
You were flustered by this sudden proposition. It was the first time someone was reaching out for you since you were in this school. Jason was a petite girl, with shorts hair and pink round cheeks. She looked nice so you couldn’t say no.
« Of course, but…mh, are you sure ? I’m not a good company » you confessed, embarrassed by this.
« I figured out you were eating alone every day and mhhh, I…just want to know you better you see ? I mean, don’t get me wrong ! I’m not approaching you because you’re the newbie or rich girl around ! »
You chuckled at her answer and made some space for her to eat your lunch on this tight desk.
« Thanks…actually I don’t feel like eating with a lot of people » you mumbled, peeling a boiled egg.
Jisoo looked surprised by your statement.
« Why not ? Well, people aren’t trying neither but…It would be a pity to let you out right ? You seem nice, so… »
Jisoo unpacked her own pink lunchbox where cherry tomatoes and egg roll and others nice things were lying inside.
« That’s cute ! Are you cooking it yourself ? » you said, trying to make a conversation.
She nodded with a proud smirk.
« Yes ! I like cooking, but since I’d pack too much I’m doing basic things. You ? Looks good as well. »
« Mh…Actually I don’t know how to cook » you answered uneasily.
« Oh must be your mom then ? »
It was a slippery subject, but since Jason made the genuine effort to come and talk to you, you didn’t feel like making up lies.
« I don’t have a mom…Huh, I mean I have one, but my parents divorced when I was little and…never seen her since » you mumbled, eating piece of kimchi.
Jisoo’s expression went bad and you could easily know why, so you quickly said.
« It’s fine, don’t worry, I don’t try to see her neither so I’m used to. Instead we have a housekeeper. She’s making my lunch every day, so I guess it’s like a mom. »
« Oh…I’m sorry still. I didn’t know »
You gave her a comforting smile as you two ate your lunch peacefully, getting to know each other’s better.
« Say, I saw you this morning with Yunho… Is he nice with you ? » asked Jisoo out of the blue.
You almost had forgotten about your gloomy classmate, so you hummed in hesitation.
« He’s a jerk, the first day I arrived he just openly said he hates me » you groaned, packing back your empty box.
« He hates every one outta here » Jisoo added, not seemed surprised. « But…there are a lot of rumours about him » she said lowly as if she was scared someone would overhear her words.
You arched a brow, curious about those said rumours.
« What kind of rumours ? »
« He’s fighting a lot with other people, basically a bad boy. You’ve seen it already, but he’s skipping classes a lot and no one really knows what he’s doing. » Jisoo explained. « I’ve never seen him hitting someone myself, but …be careful ? I don’t want him to hurt you or anyone else around »
Was he this terrible ? The image of Yunho laughing this morning was still lingering into your head. So you just nodded at her advice. It was almost time for classes again so Jisoo left you and friendly waved her hand at you before going back to her desk while other people were coming back. You expected Yunho to skip class again, but surprisingly his tall figure appeared before the bell rang. He got back to his desk and again laid his head on the desk, ignoring you in the process.
It was Korean history class, and it would be a lie to say it was boring as hell. Although you were still taking notes of every thing, Yunho was still acting like a dead body. He didn’t say a word to you for the rest of the day. And at 5pm sharp, you got out from school to go to your extra classes. You’re still drained from your day, and the idea to study more was giving you a headache. By chance, you were allowed to go alone there, taking the bus.
That’s how Yunho saw you walking to the bus stop while he was going to his motorbike, helmet in his hand. You were a weird girl. Never before he got interested into a girl, all being the same when it comes to approach him for his bad boy vibe like. Bullshit. He hated those childish girls, but surprisingly you didn’t have this side into your attitude. Again, Yunho was shocked to think about you from time to time. « Get yourself back Jung Yunho » his conscious told him before he saw the bus passing by his eyes.
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Days were flying by and your first mock exams were coming at the corner. You had worked like a slave for this days, sleeping few hours a night to study more and more, the menacing shadow of your father planning above your head. Jisoo was eating lunch with you every day since. You girl got closer after few days and you considered her like your friend. She was the first person to hear about your familial situation and the gape, or more the ravine between you and your father. You must say it was a relief to be able to confess every thing to someone exterior to your house.
Jisoo seemed pissed off when you told her you were used not to get attached to people due to you moving almost every year to another city.
« That’s so awful ! » she cried, grabbing the carton of fruit juice you got from the machine.
« Yeah…My father is a stone cold asshole » you mumbled, the straw between your lips.
« Girl, when exams are over, let’s have fun alight ? Fight me if your father says no ! »
Jisoo was so cute. You couldn’t imagine this little girl tossing her fists at your father, but somehow the image was funny. That’s how you promised you would.
This day again you had to go to extra classes, and today was really a day you wished someone would ditch you from this living hell. Waiting at the bus stop, you were spacing out when you heard the sound of a roaring engine before it stopped right before you. The man on the moto lifted the smoked visor on his helmet to reveal his face. You heart stopped when you recognise Yunho. You didn’t know you he could drive such a thing but he seemed proud of it as he smirked to you.
« Need a drive ma’am ? » he asked.
What the fucking hell ? One day he was ignoring you like a ghost and another day he was talking to you and now proposing you to ride his moto ?
« Wha- I don’t understand, what are you trying to do here ? » you groaned back as he stabilised himself and just throw at you another helmet.
« Wear this. » he ordered without answering your question.
You looked at him in hesitation. Was he serious ? Or was he trying to drag you into another salty problem ? As he could read into your head, he rolled his eyes.
« I won’t throw you over a bridge you know ? »
« Huh…So tell me what are you trying to do ? I’m utterly sick of your hot and cold game. One day you’re saying you’re hating me, fine. And another one you’re actually trying to convince me to ride on a motorbike with you. »
« Get on, we’ll talk later » he groaned, glaring at you which intimated you.
Soon enough you were at the back of the motorbike, and before he drove, he took your arm to make you hug his waist tightly.
« Don’t ever let it go. If we fall I’d rather you fall with me than the motorbike » he explained.
You were about to protest, but he drove, making you instantly hold him tightly. It was the first time you were being driven on a moto, and the air going through your hair, the warmth of Yunho’s back against your chest was a total discovery for you. You were scared, not to say terrified. But Yunho was really driving carefully, although he liked to make his engine roar when the road was clear. When you weren’t scared enough to focus on his back only, you tried to see where he was going, and soon recognise the way to your extra classes. How did he know ? After some more minutes of furious roars, he stopped in front of a building you could recognise. He waited for you to get off the engine so he could as well get off.
Taking off the helmet you took a giant breath, your heart beating like crazy.
« How was the ride ? » he asked in a tease, watching you regaining strength.
« You’re crazy. Absolutely crazy » you hissed, shoving his helmet in his arms. « And how did you know it was here I was going ? »
Yunho couldn’t tell you he once followed you until there. Actually, he didn’t know himself why he had followed you, but after some days when he came back there, he saw your figure through a window, totally exhausted almost dozing on your work. Something made him stay here for a while, just watching you from afar this day. You were the representation of what he hated the most, and yet you were just a normal girl, acting like a normal girl. Moreover you looked so tired every day, and he was just wondering until how far you’d push yourself to be this perfect student.
« I just figured it out when I came one the neighbourhood with Hongjoong and some friends. We are hanging out quite a lot here» he grumbled. It wasn’t really a lie right ? Hongjoong and Yeosang were living in this area, so they were meeting quite a lot after classes in the neighbourhood.
You rolled your eyes before staring at him in confusion. Why was he being nice all of the sudden ?
Anyway, you needed to go, having enough of this nonsense.
« Thanks for the ride, but don’t hope to get me on this bike from hell any sooner » you groaned before taking your lead inside the building, not paying a look at your classmate.
Yunho smirked and shook his head.
« Bike from hell… »
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Hours passed, and when the clock showed around ten, classes ended. You sighed and rubbed your eyes from exhaustion, slowly getting out the building to see the motorbike was still here. But not Yunho. Looking around, you tried to see if he was around. Seemed he was not. While admiring his black shiny engine, you got lost in your inner thought again. It was so strange for him to act this kindly but none without saying dangerously toward you. And the fact he discovered where you were studying was still a mystery for you, not totally convinced by the total luck of him running on this place.
« It’s maybe a bike from hell, but still pretty right ? » a voice exclaimed at you, making you jump.
Yunho was back, a bag in his hand from the CU, the nearby convenient store. You crunched up your nose. Why was he still here ?
« I met the guys, and was about to go home. » he explained again as if he could read your thought.
« Oh what a coincidence ! » you mimicked still not convinced if he was lying or not.
« Y/N I’m not lying, Hongjoong literally lives two blocks away from here. » he said seriously.
You sighed and turned around to leave. But when you walked past way his position he asked in a relax tone:
« I got some ice cream, want some ? »
It was going from dumb and dumber. Seriously you couldn’t put a finger on his weird behaviour. With a suspicious look you were about to say no, but he cut you.
« Your brain needs sugar. It’s past ten, and you’ve been studying for four hours straight. I guess you didn’t have diner too huh. »
« And what does it concern you ? » you snapped, turning to face him. « It’s not as if you would be this concerned for someone you hate right ? I don’t understand Yunho, I don’t understand you and your attitude. »
Yunho bite his lower lip, knowing himself he got in a weird situation.
« Yeah I know I said I hated people like you, but I didn’t say I hated you » he mumbled.
There was this embarrassing silent again, only the noises of the city filling the icy atmosphere between you.
« People like me. What do you mean ? Did I do something wrong to deserve this attitude ? » you crossed your arms, decided to cleared this shit.
Yunho felt uneasy to talk about it, but somehow he didn’t want to stay in a bad relationship with you. Instead, he took a ice cream from the bag and handled it to you.
« Eat, I will explain it to you after. » he mumbled, looking away.
You gave him a glance but finally took the ice cream, your stomach making you remember you were starving at the moment. It was a vanilla strawberry ice cream. You almost laughed by seeing this.
« Didn’t know you had so girlish tastes » you said ironically putting the ice cream into your mouth.
« I got mine, what do you mean ? I knew you would maybe get out at this hour and I just felt like buying you this » he justified himself by taking his own ice cream, green tea flavoured.
You both sat down on the empty academy’ stairs to eat your ice creams in silence. There were so much questions you wanted to ask, trying to figure out how to deal with him.
« I’m living alone with my mom. My dad and her divorced when I was ten or something. He was violent dude and was hitting my mom, so he got arrested by the police when the neighbours got fed up by the every day fights. But the thing is…we always had financial problems because of this bastard. He borrowed money from loan sharks, an astronomical amount and got my mom in trouble even after he got arrested. » said Yunho, blankly staring at the floor.
All you could do was listening to him. Surprisingly, you never imagined something this horrible would have happened to him.
« My mom sold everything she had to give the money back, so we lost our house and now we’re living in a small studio. Even though she’s working, her salary is just enough to cover the rent and the rest is going to those loan sharks. »
His voice was weak, almost silent as he felt his barriers falling down. He looked so fragile, his broad shoulders shuddering slowly, his dark hair covering his eyes. You felt your heart sinking at his reflection.
« Of course I wanted to help her as soon as I could get a job, getting some part time jobs but she wants me to focus on school. » he laughed bitterly, watching his ice cream melting. « I’ve soon been taught that school wasn’t going to make things better. And people knowing about my family matters were just doing things out of pity for us. It drove me crazy. I hate people boasting about how nice it is to have money, how nice it is to be a normal happy family and just feel the others like shit. »
That’s how you figured out why Yunho hated rich people. And how he probably thought you were the same as the others he could have seen before. The bitterness you were feeling towards him vanished in an instant. How such a tough guy like him could appear so broken ? How hard must it have been for him all those years ?
« I…I’m sorry. » you muttered, not really knowing how to carry on.
« No, it’s fine. I’m aware you’re from a wealthy fam, but I figured out you weren’t like those bitches gossiping around. » he said, taking back some composure as he ate a part of the leaking ice cream.
« But…How are you doing ? I mean, are you eating correctly ? » you asked, genuinely worried about his health at the moment.
He chuckled and looked at you.
« My grand parents are supporting us. » he said, ruffling his hair with his hand. « The only time I worked during summer break, they refused the money. That’s how I got my moto »
There was another long pause, before you felt the cold liquid from your ice cream falling on your hand, making you yelp in surprise. Yunho smirked and laughed lightly, watching you fighting with your ice cream.
« Eat, I’ll drive you back home…If you let me to, I mean » he said, rubbing his nape after finishing his own snack.
« Alright, but don’t even think of doing the rodeo on the way back. » you grumbled and get on.
Once again on Yunho’s motorbike, you watched the city streaming before your eyes, neons of all colours leaving particular marks in the dark night. The cold air now hitting your body made you hug Yunho’s tighter. You didn’t know how to feel towards him. But you understood the situations he got through and up until now, you thought you’d have done the same if you had to be in the same game. But it wasn’t a game. You knew Yunho wasn’t a real bad guy. Things forced him to do tough tasks. You were ready to forgive him, as long as he promised at least to be this hostile to you.
When you arrived near your big complex, you made sign to Yunho to stop right before the actual building. He turned the engine off and let you get off his moto. Taking off the helmet, you gave it back to him but he stopped you.
« Keep it. »
« What ? But .. »
« It won’t be the last time you will get on this Y/N » he said with a smirk. « But anyway, why did you make me drop you here ? I could go to the right building »
« Erm…I rather not. My father could see this and…I guess he wouldn’t like seeing his daughter riding a motorbike with a boy he doesn’t know. » you spurred out.
Yunho raised a brow at your comment about your father. He barely saw him at your first day but he seemed like a strict man. He nodded.
« I see, well…See you around ? »
« Yeah…if you don’t skip classes » you giggled, relaxed by this friendly or at least less hostile conversation.
Yunho scoffed and ruffled your hair, which surprised you.
« Maybe. »
Then he sent you off, waiting for you to go inside the building before driving back to his empty home. He mostly had said the truth to you, but he voluntarily omitted to add his mom got admitted to the hospital weeks ago. And he didn’t want you to pity him furthermore.
When you stepped inside the silent apartment, you noticed your father’s shoes weren’t at the entrance, meaning he wasn’t home. You sighed in relief, hurrying yourself to hide the helmet in your room, under your bed. Only Sookja got a glimpse at you rushing at your room.
« Y/N ? Is everything alright ? » she asked while she was in the kitchen.
« Yes ! Every thing is alright ! » you shouted back at her before going back to the kitchen to eat the late diner she prepared you.
Sookja took a look at your face. You were indeed tired, but something had changed. She could feel you were less, stressed ? The old woman sweetly smiled to you watching you eat.
« Did something nice happen today at school ? » she asked innocently, aware you normally aren’t really openly talking about your school days.
You looked at her, enjoying the warm soup after the cold weather you faced on Yunho’s bike.
« Erm…Yeah we can say that » you mumbled, slightly embarrassed but yet excited.
Sookja was a confident. You could tell her anything, she would never repeat to your father. She waited for you to keep on.
« There is a ..classmate of mine. At first we were like cats and dogs you know ? But today we sorted things out and I guess it’s fine now »
« I’m glad to ear this sweetie » she said in pure relief and joy for you. « Have you made friends ? »
« There is Jisoo ! She’s a part of my class as well. She’s a really warm person » you said, after taking more bites of rice and others side dishes.
Your housekeeper was happy to know you were getting a better life than you have had until now. She hoped some day you would be free from your father’s influence and fly by your own wings. That’s how she was thinking and wished the most for you.
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After this strange night, days have been more packed. The day of your mock exams, you gave it all, knowing that although it was only a mock one, your father wouldn’t let it pass. After giving back your sheets, you and Jisoo were talking at the cafeteria. The petite teenager stretched and sighed.
« Y/NNNNN ! What should I do ? I’m sure I’ll fail ! »
« Don’t say that Ji’, I’m sure you’ll do well »
« It’s easy for you ! You always have good grades. » she pouted.
« I wished I could have less than 100 believe me » you groaned.
From the corner of your eyes, you glimpsed the tall figure of Yunho with Mingi and Hongjoong. He was sitting with them with the same expressionless face he used to put on at school. But when he was sitting next to you during class, he didn’t ignore you anymore, nor tried to nap. He was surely warming up to you, but it seemed he wasn’t ready to let his friends see him this way with you.
« - today ? » you heard Jisoo’s voice.
« Mh ? Sorry, I wasn’t listening » you said, going back to your friend.
Jisoo pouted again before following your gaze and leaned near to your face with a teasing face.
« Guuuurl, it seems you and Yunho got closer or is it me ? »
« Gosh, Ji ! It’s not what you think ! We just sorted things out, but we’re not friends or things like this » you mumbled back, embarrassed by her behaviour.
« Well, that’s not really the impression I have. Did you remark he’s not skipping classes lately ? »
« Maybe he got enlightened by God to study ? » you suggested in a grin.
You both laughed and today, you felt relieved as you didn’t have to go to extra classes, the academy being closed for the spring break that was soon arriving. Somehow, you convinced your father to let you go to Jisoo’s house for the weekend, heavily pretexting she wanted you to tutor her for the real exams. He seemed suspicious, but since your school grades were good so far, he didn’t have any objections to make.
While for packing your bag, you received numerous notifications on KakaoTalk. Jisoo created a group chat with the others kids who were going to come at her house for the weekend. Mostly girls and maybe some boys, but it didn’t really matter for you only the fact you had the chance to spend time with your friend, making some other friends ?
You happily answered to the text saying you’d come by yourself at the indicated address and time before locking your phone again. When you were almost done packing, your phone vibrated again but this time wasn’t the group chat. « Jung Yunho » appeared at your screen, leaving you speechless for a moment.
윤호
Need a ride for this weekend ?
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thirdhandidiot · 3 years
Text
HELLO LGBTs
DONT YOU THINK ITS TIME FOR A REVOLUTION?
NONE OF THE OBEY ME CHARACTERS ARE CIS BECAUSE I SAID SO, ITS TIME WE START PROJECTING ONTO THEM
•i want to see non binary Satan who couldn’t understand why talking to people was making them angry and started lashing out for seemingly no reason, having to go to Lucifer in a fit of angry tears, desperate for help because it hurts so much, why does it hurt?
•I want to see Beel, who passed so easily, worried his twin would grow to despise him because he never had the same ease transitioning socially, getting called the girly one of the two, always being smaller, weaker next to Beel, and Beel hates it so much, he feels guilty
•I want to see Miku Binder Levi projecting onto fictional characters to avoid thinking about his own problems, wearing baggy clothes and locking himself away, jealous of the other brothers, scared of rejection
•I want gender fluid Asmo, proud of their ability to seemlessly shift between presentations, calling mammon in tears, begging him to come pick her up from this guys house because he’s yelling slurs at asmo, who is sobbing please don’t call me that and they won’t stop
•I want to see the great mammon, who is so confident one day, but the next can’t stand the sight of his body, especially when he shifts and you can see his scars, barley hidden by his jacket, who always feels like his screams are just a little bit too high pitched
•Lucifer, so proud, hurt by memories of before, presenting hyper masc at times, afraid to show any emotions because even though he knows it’s not true, he can’t help but think people will see his as more feminine, and he can’t do that, not again
•I want Belphie, who pretends it doesn’t bother them. ‘Why should I care what some lesser demon thinks of me?’ but is kept awake at night, when everyone else is asleep, no one to help as they spiral in insecurities, their voice echoing in their head, the cruel words twisting, stabbing–
•Lord diavolo, whose parents had been so relieved because ‘that means you can be king– we were so disappointed when you were born female’ and it never sat right with him, even though he’d been lucky enough to transition young
•Maybe even Luke, who only Simeon knows is trans, getting upset when he’s called chihuahua because my voice isn’t that high, is it? But determined to stay closeted and so never being able to tell them why they should stop, and he’s not that small, he’s an average height for boys his age he’s checked, so many times
–But I also want to see sleepovers between the brothers (they agreed it was simpler to keep calling themselves that and that it was better than letting Mammon or Levi pick a new name) where they, just for one night, put aside the bickering and tormenting eachother just to make sure the others are ok, because they all know that they’re struggling in their own ways, and for one night they all sleep in the living room, eating food, watching comfort movies and following whatever self care routine it is that asmo is on currently, everyone gets a face mask, no you can’t opt out lucifer, you’re working too hard again, you’ll get wrinkles and that just won’t do, let us take care of you– and Levi! When was the last time you washed your hair?! That won’t do, come with me, let me do it for you I have these amazing bath salts I just know you’ll love
–I want Diavolo, helping them all transition as quickly and as secretively as possible after he finds out. He wants to be there for them, ever since that night lucifer came out to him, sobbing, pride forgotten because he doesn’t want to be that person anymore. He can’t, he spent too long living that lie for his father, he just wants to be free. Simeon telling him he’s changed and being so proud of him, you look so much more relaxed. Diavolo being so happy to know that lucifer is happier because he struggles to talk about it because Lucifer still believes he‘s wrong or broken in someway, pride too much to overcome, but when it’s just him and diavolo, sometimes he can talk about it, lift a weight off his chest
–I want to see them big eachother up in the way that only siblings can, oi that jacket looks good on ya, can I steal it? I’m gonna get junk food because I deserve it, what do you want? I want them to support eachother on bad days, just silently making them tea when they’ve started into space just a little too long, ruffling their hair on the way out. I want a deal between them to let the others know if something is showing in public, whilst in the house being comfortable enough and trusting eachother enough not to judge because really, they’re all in the same boat here
I can’t be the only one here guys. C’mon. Let make this happen. Tag me. ANYTHING YOU POST I want to see it, I want to see your vent art, I want to hurt with you as you project your troubles, just so that your not alone. @7fckingidiots made a Post Abt the Brothers amd it was my final snapping point, Ive got so many little sketches of Satan, they’ve become my muse for any practice drawings, amd I wanted to say something before but yea, check out their post guys I’ll try Link it. But I mean it, tag me, I want to reblog everything you do, make our own supportive family
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onomonopetabread · 4 years
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Declawing the Cat- Chapter 1
He just couldn’t figure her out. No matter how many times he’s tried to wrap his head around it, Felix Graham de Vanily couldn’t solve the mystery of Marinette Dupain-Chang; not why she did the things she did, or how, or why she seemed to infuriate him to no end…
It had all started when his brick head of a cousin had the bright idea to convince his mother to transfer him to his school. The two of them had recently moved closer to the Agreste household for more “family solidarity”, but it seemed as though Adrien needed even more quality time with cousin dear.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Adrien? You know Felix isn’t the most social child. Do you really think that your classmates will welcome him as you say they will, even after the incident?”
“I’m positive, Aunt Amilie. The kids in my class are very kind and believe in redeeming others if they apologize. I have no doubt in my mind that they’ll forgive him. I mean, look at how they accepted me when I first started going there. They could have shunned me and thrown me aside like trash, but now I have a lot of friends. The same will happen with Felix, for sure.”
“Well, if you really think so, then it's a beautiful idea,” said Amilie avidly. “What about you, gabriel? Do you think that our sons should go to school together?”
“It will be beneficial for Adrien to have a good influence around the school with him to make sure that he doesn’t try to rebel and become like his… recalcitrant peers,” said gabriel without glancing up from his designs.
“And you, Felix? Do you want to go to College Francoise-Dupont?”
Felix gulped. He didn’t really want to go to school with his ridiculous cousin, but his mother really seemed to like the idea, and he’d hate to disappoint her ...
So that’s how Felix ended up going to school with the same kids he duped. Even though Adrien can be way too gullible (someone really needs to tell him that life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows and not everyone can be trusted), Felix soon found that he was indeed right about his friends. When he arrived there a few weeks ago, it only took a small smile and a half-baked apology to get them to trust him. One might think that Felix would be sulking at the mere thought of going to school with these losers, but he had decided beforehand that if he was going to have any fun at this school, he was going to have to toy with this naive group of teenagers to cause some trouble, and what better way to do that than to make them think he was on their side?
“Guys, this is my cousin Felix. He’s going to be attending school with us for now on. I know you guys will take him in with open arms.”
Kim cut in. “Is this the same cousin that pretended to be you and replied to the videos you sent us?”
Nino had something to say as well. “Why should we trust anything he has to say? He hasn’t exactly given us any reason to like him.”
“Yeah, how can you expect us to just become friends with us after what he did? He’s a liar!” Alya declared.
The rest of the class chimed in with arguments of their own, and who can blame them? It definitely didn’t feel good to be deceived. Soon, the whole courtyard was filled with angry yells and upset students. Adrien, bless him, was trying his best to calm them down and explain.
“Well-”
Felix cleared his throat. Talking ceased and all eyes were on him: Adrien’s glancing nervously, and the others’ full-on glares.
“Hello, everyone. As Adrien just told you, my name is Felix Graham de Vanily. To answer your question, Mr. Le Chein, yes, I’m the cousin of Adrien’s that impersonated him and sent you a cruel response to your heartfelt videos. For that, I am deeply sorry. I have no excuse for what I did. I can only hope that you all will find it in your hearts to forgive me for my terrible sin.”
You could hear a pin drop. All of the students were giving each other and Felix calculating looks. Should they believe him? Was he really telling the truth? After a few beats of deafening silence, Mylene spoke up.
“If you’re really sorry...”
“Oh, I am, you can be sure of that, Ms. Haprele,” Felix nodded, puppy eyes fully on show.
“Then… I suppose everyone deserves a second chance, right guys?” she continued, looking around at the others.
Slowly, the rest of the group started nodding their heads. Where there was anger and hurt towards Felix was now acceptance and forgiveness. Why not forgive him? Of course he was telling the truth! Why on Earth would someone lie to gain our trust only to be able to play us for fools right underneath our noses? It’s not like it’s ever happened before. Oh, if only Lila was here to greet our new friend! It’s too bad she’s away in America doing her internship at NASA!
The group, who were once resentful and angry at the fancily-dressed boy that was in front of them, began to crowd around him, smiles and name introductions all around. By the way they were acting, you would have thought that they all have been friendly with Felix since birth. Amazing what the power of deception held when used right.
He recognized most of them from the terrible videos they had sent Adrien: the manic pixie girl, the ultra-nerd, the stupid jock, the wannabe dj and his amautur reporter girlfriend.
And what a reporter she was! Neither she nor her dim-witted friends could see through his act. They followed him like lost puppies looking for an owner. The only person who didn’t seem to believe him was her. Felix didn’t see her in the schoolyard for his “apology”, and he noticed she never seemed to be around if he’s in the room.
Honestly, he’d thought that Marinette would have been the easiest person to convince. Only a silly, pigtail-twirling, school girl would send such a pathetic confession. “AdRiEn, I LoVe YoU. I’Ll AlWaYs Be ThErE If YoU NeEd Me”. Puh-lease.
But she never seemed to be around, Felix didn’t see her in the schoolyard for his “apology”, and he noticed she never seemed to be around unless they were in class. He sat in the back, and spent most of his time conjuring up plans to recruit her, for after a few days of observations, he’d been able to work out that he had underestimated her. By a lot. Felix found out that she was class president and a good one at that. She was seen as a leader by the others, but it didn’t seem like she used deception to earn that respect. She was actually kind-hearted, selfless, and true. If she wasn’t so annoying and stubborn, those characteristics might have even been...admirable. She really could be a great ally to have by his side. But by jove, was she ever making it difficult. Eventually, he’s been able to talk to her alone. To sum it up, it definitely could have gone better.
During lunch hour, Marinette was on a bench in the park. She was sketching on a notepad, most likely designs for a new sewing project. Felix learned from Adrien that Marinette was a very talented aspiring designer, which took Felix by surprise. You’d never guess that this girl was into fashion by the way she dressed (Felix could not stress enough how atrocious those pigtails were), but he digresses. He isn’t here to insult Marinette’s clothes, though he could do so some other time. He took a deep breath and strode over to Marinette’s seat.
“Ah, Ms. Dupain-Cheng! How lovely it is to see you. We never seem to talk, do we? It is quite a shame really.”
Marinette didn’t move a muscle. It was as though he hadn’t said a word! Ok, well, give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she’s really focused on her drawing?
“I must say, that is a lovely suit that is a lovely suit you’re designing there. I love the use of gold thread on the pants. If I may make a few suggestions-”
“No, you may not. As a matter of fact, I’m going to stop you right there. Don’t say another word.”
“I-I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.” Marinette set her notepad aside on the bench and rose up from the bench to look him in the eye . Never in his life had Felix seen a stronger glare, and even though he was a good head taller than Marinette, he felt as though she could crush him like a grape. Of course, he didn’t let it show. What would it say about him that he shakes like a kitten in the presence of a 4’ 11” teenage girl?
“Now Felix, I’m only going to say this once, so listen up. I know you have everyone else fooled with your nice act, but I’m not as stupid as you seem to assume. You think you’re the first fake I came across? Don’t make me laugh; you’re not even close. Heck, next to Lila, you’re just a petty gossip. The rest of our classmates seem to have put the video incident in the past, but let me make it crystal clear that it is still fresh in my mind. I meant to share something extremely personal with Adrien, we all did, and you screwed that up. You hurt all of us carelessly as if our feelings were nothing more than spinning tops. You know what that makes you?”
Dumbfounded, Felix couldn’t do much more than shake his head.
“It makes you a little bitch. And I don’t associate with little bitches. So unless you can prove to me that you really are turning over a new leaf for good, I don’t want to say one word to you unless absolutely necessary and vise versa. I’ll stay out of your hair, and you WILL stay out of mine. Capisce?
Without waiting for a reply, Marinette turned her heel, grabbed her notebook, and began the walk back to school.
Well, he must admit that Marinette won that round. She certainly was a challenge, but luckily, for Felix liked puzzles. He was going to get Mari to like him, even if it took every ounce of strength and scheming he had in his body.
@mickeyaaliyah @lyssaisprobablynotaloser @firstclassdumbass I wanted to put it in the server but Google wouldn’t let me
@threebirdsinatrenchcoat @ladylupuscrow @kittynoirblog
If you guys want the next chapter here it is
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olivish · 3 years
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Okay so here are five Wilford headcanons/ficlets. A bit long, below the fold:
1. His “real” name isn’t Joseph Wilford. Wilford invented - or, perhaps, stole - this name, many years ago, to hide his true origins. If anybody ever asked him about his youth, he would invent some compelling tale, gradually adding details that were more and more outrageous, just to see how much the person listening was willing to believe. Soon he realized, the longer he could string someone along, the more useful they proved to be in the future. 
To this day, Ruth still believes that he was raised by penguins after his family died in a shipwreck off the Falkland Islands. “Little known fact,” Wilford told her, “Penguins are excellent parents. And they have better table manners than most people you’ll ever meet.” He nudged his head towards Melanie, who was eating sushi with her hands, wiping her fingers on her jumpsuit. Melanie: “Huh?” 
2. Wilford LOVES pierogis topped with butter, sauerkraut and pepper. Pierogis are his comfort food. His Ukrainian neighbor in Sheffield used to make them, and while she cooked, she’d regale him with stories about her absent husband, who, she confided, was KGB. Pre-Wilford Wilford sat transfixed as she told tales of statecraft and espionage with gusto, her wooden spoon zooming and stabbing with every robust gesticulation. It was only later, when crafting his own identity, that Wilford realized - of course - she’d made it all up. 
Decades later, “KGB” became a common bit of color he’d toss around in dinner party conversations, grinning ear-to-ear as the particularly stupid echelons of high society scooped it up, eyes wide as they gasped in scandal. 
3. Wilford HATES airplanes. He’s deathly afraid of heights, although he hides it well when necessary. He built a train empire specifically so that he’d never have to take a “projectile death tube” anywhere, ever again. And besides, aerospace guys are pricks and he enjoyed driving them out of business. 
On this subject, Melanie entirely agreed. “Fuck airplanes,” she’d say after a particularly good day, clinking her beer against his glass of scotch. “Fuck airplanes,” Wilford would echo in return. 
“We should put that below the logo, you know,” Melanie suggested. “Like a slogan. Wilford Industries--” 
“Fuck Airplanes,” Wilford finished the sentence, laughing, a hand on her shoulder. He gave an affectionate squeeze. “Bloody right.” 
4. Wilford’s favorite scientist is Nikola Tesla. He has a vast collection of Tesla memorabilia, and bought many of his original sketches and prototypes at auction. He built Wilford headquarters in Colorado Springs and Niagara Falls, as an homage to “the master.” For Halloween, Wilford consistently dressed as Tesla, complete with mustache and pigeon.  
When Elon Musk named his electric car after Nikola Tesla, Wilford had a meltdown and tried to sue. “For what?” Lilah Folger asked, confused. “How should I bloody know?” Wilford raged in reply. “You’re the lawyer! Figure it out! Slander! Indecency! Being a grimey little prick!” 
Lilah tried her best, but it was the only lawsuit Wilford ever lost.
5. Wilford would constantly go off about how much he hated children, didn’t see the point of them, was too busy/selfish/interesting to ever waste his time with procreation, but the truth is, he’s sterile and he hates it. Only Audrey knows the secret, because he let it slip one night while particularly inebriated. Everything he’s done in his life, from building a global empire to plastering his name all over the train, to building an engine that would literally *never* stop, was motivated, at least in part, by a desire to leave a lasting legacy.
When Melanie had Alex, Wilford found himself particularly bitter, and Melanie teased that he was jealous of the baby taking so much of her attention. What she didn’t realize was that Wilford’s jealousy was primarily directed towards her, not little Alex. 
“It must be intoxicating, having complete ownership over another human being,” Wilford mused. “I mean, she’s completely yours, isn’t she?”
“Parents don’t own their children, Joseph. You’re thinking of slavery.” 
“Legal definitions aside, that girl came from you. She’s helpless, utterly at your mercy, depends on you for everything. But, rather than resent the tyranny, the little thing loves you for it. Devotion without question. Without merit.”  
“I like to think I merit it.” 
“Doesn’t matter. That’s my point. You could be the worst parent in the world, and she’d love you anyway.” Wilford chuckled. “Evolution. What a trip.” 
“Speaking of trips.” Melanie frowned as he rolled a joint. Not his first of the day, she could tell.  
“Now, now. You’re not my mother.” 
“It’s making you melancholy. It’s not fun, Joseph.” 
“Oh, just let me wallow, will you? If you’re not going to join in...” 
With a sigh, Melanie left him alone, resigned to the fact that Alex was destined to become a permanent wedge. And she wasn’t wrong. Over the years, Wilford seemed intent on proving his point, spoiling the girl at every turn, showering her  with attention and gifts, deftly positioning Melanie as the bad guy who was always saying no. No, you can’t eat ice cream for every meal. No, you can’t keep a show pony in the backyard. No, you can’t stay up all night watching Duck Soup with uncle Joseph. 
“What are you so cross about?” Wilford would tease. “You’ll see. Come tomorrow, she’ll love you anyway.”
This lasted until one day, Melanie did something so awful, so unforgivable, so against nature and everything a mother should be, that Wilford was positive, the spell was finally broken...
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