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bornagainmurdock · 1 month

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a bit tied up

author's note: always make sure you know some human anatomy before experimenting with bondage! don't want to pinch a nerve or cut off blood flow! also condition your rope, the rope bottom will greatly appreciate it!

contents: 18+ ONLY, smut, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, gentle softdom!matt, bondage, cuffs, experimenting so very lighthearted and giggly, subspace, use of "sir," no sex, aftercare

work count: 1.9k

Matt wasn't hesitant to get you whatever you wanted; last week's want was bondage, and so Matt ordered some rope and ribbons and cuffs to get started. And luckily for him, today they were delivered. Matt made sure he made it home in time to grab the package before you could. He was excited and bubbly, unable to stop smiling.

When you walked through the front door, you shouted his direction to find him giddy on the bed with a bag behind him with your name on it. He lifted his face towards yours and pushed the box into your hands and waited, bouncing and giggling, but patient enough for you to lift the lid to his suprise: the best night of your life.

Inside, the treasures you had been waiting for. The top of the pile was handcrafted leather cuffs with buckles and D rings for the chain between them to hold on. Under it was a bundle of black cotton, but highly textured, rope, and a bundle of white thick ribbon. You squealed as you pulled everything out of the box, pushing Matt down onto the bed, kissing him until he was a giggly mess under you.

"So what do you think sweetheart? Wanna try them out?"

"Right now?"

"Right now." He flipped you over so you were under him now, arms holding himself up planted next to your head, muscles pulsating and veins showing themselves through his skin. "Lemme see those wrists."

You held out your hands to him as he moved to sit on top of your pelvis, balancing there enough to grab the cuffs. He unbuckled them exposing the felt lining interior to you for the first time.

Matt was slow and gentle looking for any sign of hesitancy or fear. Giving up control of your body wasn't something to be taken lightly; he knew that.

"Safeword and traffic light system?"

"Safeword is book, green for all good, yellow for stop or slow down, red for stop straight to aftercare." Matt felt you wriggling under him. Impatience and excitement flooded your body, eyes already getting glassy.

"And because we haven't done this before, I'm going to check in more often. Understood?"

"Yes Sir." You said with a smirk.

"Just the cuffs tonight. I gotta learn some ties before we do any of that other stuff."

---

Matt spent the next week listening to videos and guides about bondage and rope play. He practiced ties on himself when he could so he would have a better understanding of the body positioning and feel of the rope on his skin. Matt also experimented with wearability of the ropes, sometimes tying himself a harness in the morning and wearing it under his work clothes all day. He would deny enjoying it though, no matter how much he missed it when he untangled it all from his body.

After absorbing as much information as possible, Matt invited you over for dinner. But you knew it was a ruse. He tried to keep all the learning, all the workships he listened to, all the times he tied ropes upon himself, but he was weak when it came to you. Over dinner he told you everything he learned: anatomy, ties, how to condition the rope, the differences and similarities between shibari and restrictive bondage, everything.

"Did you invite me over just to tie me up?"

"Well not just to tie you up, I also wanted to teach you some ties, too."

"Sounds like my Matt Murdock, tempting me with food as a coverup to be a whore." He laughed with you clearing the plates from the table.

"You know me so well." Matt took your hand to pull you from your chair, holding you in his arms rocking gently back and forth.

"You're not even going to offer dessert?"

"Oh you'll get your dessert alright." His sentence ended with a slap to your ass, encouraging you to walk forward into the bedroom.

When you passed through the doorway, you stopped, letting Matt pass you and walk to open his closet. He pulled the bundle of rope out, gently braided among itself to prevent tangling.

"Did you know you're supposed to condition your rope? It's supposed to make it less carpet burn-y and more pressure-y." He was walking around organizing things while talking.

You stood watching, feeling the tension shift from lighthearted to more serious. Matt set a pair of scissors on the bedside table next to a half-drank water bottle and bowl of your favorite snacks.

"Did you also know that bondage has the ability to send someone off really far into subspace? And, that it can cause pretty severe brain chemical crashes? The things you learn while watching someone get tied up. You wouldn't believe." He gestured towards the bed, reaching for you to lay you down.

"Strip for me. Whatever feels most comfortable right now. Thought we could try some ties and you can tell me what you prefer. Hmm?" He was towering over you, still in his suit, as you sat down on the bed removing some of your clothes.

"For our safety, I have scissors close in case we need them. I want you to feel safe and grounded and present while we do this so you can figure out what you like. So please let me know if something's not working." He began to undo the rope bundle.

"I'm gonna start with a series of single column ties to warm you up." Matt was gentle with your body, helping you lay down on the bed and find where it was most comfortable. Even if he hadn't been hovering over you, the scent of him was overwhelming and exciting. It smothered you and sent you into a state of focus, honning in on the feeling of the sheets against your back.

Matt began the tie on your upper right arm, moving slowly and carefully. He would trace his fingers over the 'knots' to make sure they had settled correctly against your skin.

When he got to your wrist, he traced over the rope in its entirity appreciating his work. The rope felt warm against your skin, and just tight enough to absorb the pressure without feeling claustrophobic.

"Do you wanna try something more intense?"

You nodded eagerly.

"Words."

"Yes, Matt please."

He undid the tie with a single movement. Feeling it glide over your skin and watching it unravel was enough to make you moan into the silence.

Matt laughed at your moment of desparation and grabbed at your shoulders to sit you up in front of him.

"Okay next, I'm going to do the chest harness that I've been wearing to work."

"The what Matt?"

"Nothing."

His fingers were quick, throwing dozens of feet of rope around your body effortlessly until it was complete. He tucked the final end in and admired his work with his hands.

"You've been wearing this to work?" You were breathless. The feeling of rope against your skin was gradually becoming empty-brained throughout the process of being tied up. Matt could tell by your lackadasical breathing pattern and heartrate and the way your hands were grabbing at the duvet under you.

"Stay with me, love. What do you think of this?"

He grabbed the section at your diaphram and tugged. It was intoxicating. So much so you choked on your own spit.

"I'll take that as a yes. Do you wanna stay here for a bit?"

"Yes please."

He moved to sit behind you adjusting the ropes to focus the pressure on specific points.

It could have been minutes or hours, but you were gone: eyes glassy, hands reaching for him and tears sinking down your face.

Matt called this finding heaven, watching you fall apart for him so easily. He knew it was trust based. He knew he, and only he, could do this to you.

When Matt had finally had enough of sending you deeper into subspace, his hands returned to the end of the robe and began to untangle the loops.

You whined in response, but knew that this meant you got to try a new tie once this one was done.

"Can we try something even more intense?"

"Yes. Please, I'm feeling so good Matt."

He felt the blissed-out warmth spread throughout your body like electricity. When all the rope was pulled from your body he repositioned you so you were sat criss-cross in front of him.

"Okay, place your hands flat together as close as you can get both of your arms."

It took a minute for his words to become coherent, but you moved precisely where he wanted you.

"Alright I'm gonna start here, and then bind your hands together with only a bit of wiggle room. Are you ready?"

"Yes Sir."

He took his time, always double checking each step, feeling you melt under his touch. He would pull the rope taught and then check each wrap around for enough space for two fingers under it.

He began to hum to you, sending dopamine straight to your brain making you dizzy. Matt caressed the skin of your arms every so often to help you stay grounded there with him, but it was firey, like he was burning up.

When Matt finished the tie, he sat back to let you breathe into the feeling of the restraint. He felt the aura shift from impatience to joy. Your body melted into the bed, and into Matt, and into the rope and you felt every second as if it was years long.

Matt smiled before reaching for your hands. He grabbed the center where the central loops were and tugged. Your arms followed wherever he pulled, shifting you entire body around with him.

"How does it feel?"

"Like I'm floating."

And you were right. Matt could tell you were in space dancing with the stars. He let go of the tie and grabbed your hips using your center of gravity to pull you onto him. He wiggled until you were laying next to him arms above you, body limp to his touch.

"Just my little plaything, hmm?"

He tugged and pulled and forced you to move under his hold over and over until you were too far gone to remember how to speak. When Matt decided enough was enough, he started the process of untying you.

He kissed over the indents of the rope, leaving wet marks to help cool your skin. It was intense and overwhelming and Matt was there the whole time shh-ing you, whispering praise into your raw skin until it was rosy again.

One second he was there over you, and the next gone, and the next holding water up towards your mouth, and the next pressing goldfish crackers to your lips reminding your to chew.

When you finally regained access to language, he started his questioning.

"Okay. What did you think? How was it? Do you want to do it again?"

"Again? Like right now?" You were still in a daze, struggling to fidn reality still.

"No, honeybee. Like soon, another time."

"Mmhm. You could do it again in 20 minutes if you really wanted to."

"That excited, hmm?"

"It was one of the best things we've ever tried?"

"Better than that vibe I bought you."

"Don't push it Matthew." You said with a smirk.

He kept feeding you until all the color was back in your cheeks.

Matt kissed your forehead and held you for a while until he started getting sleepy.

"So about you wearing the harness to work?"

"Don't push it."

#matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic

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laequiem · 3 years

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Party for One

Party for One by Laequiem // @jurdannetrevels

Side B of Dedicated, a @jurdannet collab fic with @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @lizziebxnnet @figonas @hazelsheartsworn

Dedicated Masterlist • My Masterlist

‡ SIDE A: track 1 - track 2 - track 3 - track 4 - track 5

‡ SIDE B: ao3

Fandom: The Folk of The Air

Pairing: Jude Duarte x Cardan Greenbriar

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1,734

Nothing brings back the urge to taunt and tease quite like seeing Jude flustered. She is far from innocent, of course, but she loses her usual bravado whenever we enter a sex shop. A blush taints her cheeks for the entirety of our visit, perhaps as she remembers the things we have done in this very store. She nods curtly when the cashier welcomes us, then starts slowly walking between the aisles, inspecting every item as if they were weapons of war.

The temptation to tease her is so strong. When she stops in front of a glass case displaying monstrous phallic-shaped specimens, I lose my resolve.

I sneak up to her and put my hands on her waist, leaning in close.

“My wicked Queen, am I not enough for you?” I drawl in her ear.

Jude tenses, but I can almost hear the gears turning in her head. My cunning wife never lets me have the last word.

She goes back to an aisle she has visited already and hands me a cylindrical box.

“We could do this,” she says, fluttering her lashes at me, “then I won’t need you anymore.”

She hands me the box. It has a giant neon-green penis drawn on it, and the words ‘CLONE-A-WILLY’. From the drawing, I suppose willy means…

“I would think I bring more to this relationship than just my manhood,” I reply, my voice dripping with fake offense.

Jude winks at me then, then pulls me down for a quick kiss.

I wish it had lasted longer.

I follow her through the aisles, helping her carry boxes upon boxes of toys and wearables. When we pay, the cashier looks at us with open amusement, grinning as she drops our items in opaque, unlabeled bags.

With one last wiggle of her thinly plucked brows and an insinuating “Have fun, youngsters!”, we are out of the store and on our way back to Elfhame.

——

I stand with my back to the wall, pinned there by a very eager Jude. I devour her throat, my hands sliding under the straps holding up her thigh-high stockings. Her hands roam my back under my shirt, until one of them reaches my tail. She closes her fist around it and I jerk, my head almost hitting the wall behind me. Her grip tightens, and she runs her fist up the length of it, all the way to the furred tip. Sparks travel back down it, straight to my throbbing cock. I look at her, wide-eyed and panting, and she claims my mouth in a quick, passionate kiss. She bites my bottom lip as she pulls away and I chase after her, but she keeps her distance. Her grin spells trouble.

Jude palms my cock through my pants and my eyes flutter. I reach around to grab her ass, but she dodges away smoothly. Her stare sends me back to a time when I was her pawn, a decorative king for her to rule through.

“Jude?” I ask, my voice small and unsure.

Her smile widens as she slowly undoes the laces of my breeches, and then… she turns her back to me. My apprehension of what is to come prevents me from appreciating the view.

I stand there, dumbfounded, as she walks to the desk and reaches inside a shopping bag—from Dedication, I realize with both arousal and dread. I know what she will pull out before I see it. She had planned this from the beginning. The scheming trickster has a steaming mug of water next to the bag, already heated up and ready for mixing. My Jude is as conniving as the fae, no wonder I could never convince myself to hate her.

“My cunning devil,” I sigh.

My wife’s smile turns innocent, perhaps one of her biggest lies.

“I will start mixing the powder, make sure you’re ready.”

I push my breeches down and step out of them. My hand goes to my cock, dragging over it idly as I watch her take out the baggy of powder. She tears open the bag, then turns to give me a once-over. One of her brows lifts as her eyes land on my dick. I feel the weight of her judgement and I tighten my grip.

“It’s harder than it seems,” I grumble, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Is it?” She bites her lips, trying to stop herself from laughing. “It does not look very hard to me.”

I have known for a while how depraved I am. For years, I have pleasured myself to wild fantasies of her. Initially, I had convinced myself I wanted her capitulation, her pleas and tears. After she crowned me, however, I would stroke myself to fantasies of my own submission. Still, getting harder from being laughed at is a new low.

Jude pours the powder in the steaming cup of water and I join her next to the desk.

“Ready?” she asks, grabbing the plastic tube.

“As much as I can be,” I reply.

She pours the mixture in the tube, and in I go. The mixture sets quicker than I expected, and I slide out before I even soften.

“Perfect!” Jude exclaims, her smile bright enough to rival the sun.

She mixes the silicone and pours it in the mold before placing everything on the desk.

“Now, it’s time for your reward,” she purrs.

My toes curl with anticipation, but I know better than to think she will let me defile her for teasing me so. No—when she has that glint in her eyes, she is in charge. If anybody gets pinned to the bed and fucked with reckless abandon, it’s me.

I come up behind her and set my hands on her hips. My cock rubs delightfully against the lace fabric covering her ass as I bend forward to run my nose against her neck. She turns back to me and, like one of my earlier fantasies come to life, drops to her knees.

“Hands behind your back, Your Highness,” Jude commands.

Of course, I obey.

I watch as she grabs the bag and puts it next to her on the floor. She reaches in and pulls out a toy, a sleek U-shaped thing. With one press of her thumb, it starts buzzing. The first touch of it to my glans has me throwing my head back. Jude holds it steady, while her other hand grips the base of my cock. She expertly strokes me, twisting her wrist as she moves up and down. The vibrations combined with her touch have my knees buckling. I grasp the desk behind me to stabilize myself.

I look at her again, kneeling in front of me, her eyes glimmering with amusement. Her hair is down, falling beautifully over her back, and I tighten my grasp on the desk. I want to touch her, pull her hair away from her face, maybe even pull it. Jude also tightens her grip on me, quickening her movements until—

“Jude, I’m—”

In one swift move, she removes both her hand and the toy from me. The sound I make can only be qualified as a whine. She looks up at me through thick lashes, mischief written across her face.

Not for the first time, nor the last, I wish I had stayed silent.

Jude reaches in the bag again. The first thing she pulls out is familiar to me, a large bottle of lube. The second thing, however, is not something that exists in Elfhame. The thing is cylindrical, the see-through jelly material showing a complex pattern of bumps and ridges inside. It is nowhere near enough to cover my whole cock, but it is open on both ends. My imagination immediately goes wild at the possibilities, this contraption around my cock while her plump lips suck off the tip—my cock throbs, once, and Jude chuckles.

“What has got you so excited?” she teases, her thumb wiping away the drop forming at my tip.

Of course, Jude does not take me in her mouth, the cruel thing. She squeezes the lube bottle, letting the drops fall obscenely in the toy. With a bite of her bottom lip, she slides the toy over me.

It feels nothing like a person, this thing. It is overwhelming, all the nooks and crannies a completely new experience to me. As if that wasn’t enough, Jude powers on the toy from earlier again and puts it to my tip as she glides the sleeve over me.

“Fuck, it’s too much,” I cry out. “Please, Jude—”

“Do you want me to stop?” Jude asks smugly.

She knows me more than anyone else. She knows I cannot lie. She knows, regardless of my complaints, I do not want her to stop.

Even without toys, Jude turns me into a moaning mess. With them, it’s impossible to keep in my groans. I cannot find it in myself to care. I swear and moan as she works me; if the whole palace hears me, so be it.

She alternates her grip on the sleeve every few passes. Sometimes she lets it glide over me with barely any pressure, other times gripping it hard enough for me to feel her hand through it. The vibrator has made my tip so sensitive that tears prick at my eyes.

How I wish I could touch her. My nails dig in the desk as I restrain myself—surely, one of them must be broken by now.

Jude leans forward and plants a kiss to my hip bone, sucking on the skin sharply afterwards, and the dam breaks. I come with her name on my lips and my cock overstimulated by her skilled touch. Ever the torturer, she keeps pumping me with the sleeve, squeezing whine after whine out of me.

“I can’t—Jude!” My legs shake and it’s an effort to keep standing.

Mercifully, she pulls the toy away and, finally, I fall on my knees.

I pull her to me in a breathless kiss, teeth clashing as I feel her smile against my mouth.

Nothing will ever be grand enough to demonstrate my love for her.

Not the night I plan to spend worshiping her until she begs me to stop.

Not the litany of I love yous I bombard her with when I pull away.

My headstrong, ambitious wife. My love. My queen. My Jude.

Tag list

@slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thefolkofthefic @figonas @kingandfireheart @godgavemelou @lizziebxnnet @hazelsheartsworn

#The folk of the air #tfota #jurdan #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #fanfic #cardan #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #tcp #jurdannet revel #jurdannet roulette #jurdannet

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the-iron-orchid · 3 years

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A Grand Tour of the Julian 3D Model, Part 3: Put That Thing Away

(Part 1)

(Part 2)

OK, so we have a reasonable facsimile of a Julian. He has all the body hair you could ever ask for, and fully-featured junk. Now what?

We remove half of that stuff so we can put some clothes on him. 😂 I gave him all the features necessary for spicy renders, but these things get in the way when we want to dress him up! The hairs will poke right through his clothing, and can also cause cloth draping simulations to explode.

Here's Julian in the DAZ3D Viewport, staring stoically into the distance, ready to be dressed up:

The first thing I have to do is remove his junk, because the clothing would just ignore it and his happy dingledonger would clip right through his pants. Hilarious, but not the effect we want. Same for his painstakingly-crafted bush, so away they go!

Warning: weird Ken-doll-like nudity under the cut...

L E G G I E S

Fun fact: the Viewport is actually a type of render - any time you are seeing a 3D model in space, you are seeing a render. The viewport uses an engine called OpenGL that is much faster but much lower quality, so you can see the changes you make in realtime. When I’m ready to test lighting or other things that only appear in a full render, I will switch my viewport to use the Iray engine, which is much much slower but simulates the effects of light in the real world. You may have heard of PBR, or physically-based rendering; that’s exactly what Iray is.

Now we’re going to stuff Julian into something like this outfit, using assets that I already have in my library that are similar:

As you can see, it’s not quite the same, but there are some things I can do to get it closer. The textures look very different in an Iray render, as you can see here:

You can also see all the problems - the clothing is somehow both poofy and clinging to him like a coat of paint, the textures are OK but lacking in detail, and the vest is doing some weird things around his armpit. Nothing works perfectly right out of the box, especially with a custom character!

(Those little green-blue-red marks are rigid follow nodes; they tell rigid objects like the buttons where they should go when I pose or shape the model. It lets them follow the garment without the geometry stretching, warping, or doing anything weird.)

This kind of 3D clothing is called conforming clothing. It conforms to your model. It changes size and shape to fit your model (sometimes a little too much), and it has rigging so that it can move along with posing. When you stack this kind of clothing, it takes the shape of the mesh you choose to collide it with, usually the item right underneath it. So the shirt has the shape of Julian’s torso, and the vest is following on top of that shape. This is why it looks so exaggerated and puffed out. (A lot of clothing also looks puffed because they’re trying to keep the model underneath from poking through, which is a subject all its own...)

But I want this shirt to do something different - I want it to be dynamic. I want it to drape over his body like real cloth. Depending on how an item was made, it can be very easy to do this, or you may as well remake the thing from scratch. Making it dynamic will be a topic in the next installment!

For now, I just want to make some changes to the overall shape of the shirt: I want the sleeves to poof out over the cuff. To do this, I use the GoZ plugin to send the entire model and its wearables to Zbrush:

A quick detour: the model looks faceted in Zbrush because models have multiple resolutions. When you subdivide or SubD a model, it smooths out... but each subdivision level quadruples the number of polygons! For the work we’re doing here, it’s best to work at the lowest level of resolution, or base resolution. It will propagate to the higher SubD levels just fine.

Also, this is the mesh without any smoothing or helper morphs the artist may have put into the product, so it’s much more shrink-wrapped to the figure.

OK, so I have hidden the vest, buttons, and half his body polygons to make things easier to work with, and poofed out his sleeves. This is a shaping morph I can send back to DAZ3D.

Side note: you can move vertices and stretch polygons as much as you want, but you cannot add or subtract even one vertex. If you do, it’s now considered an entirely different mesh, and DAZ3D will consider it an all-new static object with no rigging or helper morphs!

Here you can see that his cravat is FAKE! 😱 I hid the loose ends, and you can see that the geometry of the collar and the cravat is all one thing. There is also no opening in the front of the shirt! There’s just a crease to make it look like it opens. Sigh. But these don’t really matter for the purposes of this render.

More importantly, this mesh does not have enough polygons to drape very well at all; it will just sort of collapse slightly on top, like a deflating balloon. Not ideal.

So, here is my plan:

Move on to the posing and use DAZ3D’s internal dynamic cloth engine (Dforce) to roughly collide the poofy sleeves with other elements in the scene (his lap, a table, whatever it ends up being). It won’t be pretty, but it will give us a rough shape to work with.

Once posing is finalized, I bring him back into Zbrush - there’s no turning back from the next step, so the pose has to be final!

Subdivide the shirt mesh 2-3 times to get a lot more polygons. Like thousands more.

Use Zbrush’s own cloth-simulating tools to refine the draping (they’re an entirely different beast - powerful, but can be very tricky).

Reimport the shirt mesh to DAZ3D as a static mesh (.obj file). I will not be able to re-pose the mesh after this, the rigging will be totally lost. But I will be able to send it back and forth into Zbrush for further refinement if needed.

(Onward to Part 4)

#a tour of the julian 3D model #my art #daz3d #julian devorak

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trashyswitch · 3 years

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Putting Elizabeth Back Together

Michael is finally taking the time to put Baby back together. After she's mostly finished, Baby surprises him with her curiosity and her advancements.

This fanfic has mentions of death (Michael's, William's and Elizabeth's) and references to PTSD. If you're sensitive to that subject, it is quite short and takes place while he's looking at the scooper.

As well, this fanfic prompt was suggested by another anonymous user. I hope you enjoy despite the slight dark themes! Although, this is FNAF...So...it's bound to happen.

Michael had calmly waited for the elevator ride to finish before walking out of the elevator with one of the boxes of scrap metal he had collected. Looking around for a moment, his eyes came across a hand truck in the corner of the building. That would be perfect for transporting! Michael placed the box onto the hand truck, and wheeled it over to the elevator. When it opened, Michael wheeled it in and placed all 7 of the boxes of metal parts onto the hand truck. Then in one quick trip, Michael brought everything further into the building. The best part was that it wasn’t that hard to push! If only he had this thing upstairs. Trying to open up the elevator while holding heavy boxes filled with metal that’ll slice you open, had quickly proven to be quite difficult earlier.

Michael walked a different way into the Pizza World rooms so that he didn’t have to try and crawl the hand truck through the tiny vents. He soon made it back to a storage spot that hadn’t been locked. Michael wheeled the stuff into it and decided to use this as his work station. Michael left the stuff inside the storage room and walked over to where the scooping room was.

He opened the door, and shivered at the look of the scooper. It was still a little stained with his own blood. The organs were gone, but you could tell something had happened in this room. Michael bit his lip as he felt the huge gaping hole that had been scooped into his gut. That scooper hurt terribly. Though the nerves were pretty much destroyed in the incident, he could still remember the phantom pain of the scooper hitting his intestines. How he wasn’t dead from physical trauma or even the internal bleeding, he will never know.

As Michael walked around the scooper to get to Baby’s body, he could feel himself disassociating and flashing back to the scooping incident over and over again in his head. The beeping...the impact...the pain, and the redness that filled his eyes just before he blacked out from trauma. It felt like he was hearing the beeping all over again. And he thought he had seen the scooper move a little bit. He tried to convince himself it didn’t actually move, and it was just his imagination. But his head was telling him to RUN!

Michael suddenly felt the back of his foot stop against something, making him lose his footing. Michael came crashing down onto the animatronic parts, making an ear-ringing metallic crash. It felt like 8 separate symbols had smashed almost at the same time! And the sound physically HURT. Michael groaned as his ears slowly stopped ringing. Moving and opening his jaw seemed to help a little. Michael got himself back up with help from the wall, and looked around for Circus Baby’s upper body. He couldn’t see it with the other animatronics. So where was it?

Michael took some time to look around, and soon found Baby’s head without the hair. It was hidden in the far corner of the scooping room on top of a maintenance desk. On top of that, Michael found more parts of Baby: her middle chest piece with the red sleeves, the fan that belonged in her belly, her full red skirt, and one of her hands without the plate covering. It looked like a black skeleton claw without the plates covering it. Using the legs and an arm from Funtime Foxy, Michael started bringing the supplies one by one to the storage closet to start working on putting Baby back together bit by bit. On top of that, Michael started collecting tons of wires from the other animatronics and putting them into a pile. With a few rolls of electrical tape at his disposal, he’d be able to make the wires longer.

Michael started off with the neck, chest and arms. Michael grabbed a voice box from Ballora’s chest and placed it into Baby. With that in place, Michael placed Baby onto the desk and placed the arm down beside it as well. He put the flashlight into his mouth and removed the chest plates from Circus Baby to replace the fan. But a strong smell emitted from Baby. It made Michael wince in disgust. If he still had a stomach, he probably would’ve thrown up. But Michael continued anyway until he accessed a storage unit of some sort.

This sent Michael mixed feelings. He knew his father was capable of murder and kidnapping, which made the storage tank all the less surprising. But...is this where the smell is coming from? Michael grabbed a metal cutter and attempted to open it. But when he couldn’t, he looked around for an easy access opening. Thankfully, there was one. Michael opened it up and found…

A red bow in the bottom of the storage unit.

Michael sighed as he grabbed the bow and put it into his pocket. He knew exactly who’s bow it was: Elizabeth’s. Michael removed the containment unit from Baby’s body and threw it out the window. No more murder. No more kidnaps. William’s murderous tendencies can end with him. Next, Michael found a metal claw thing that had been hidden inside Baby. He removed it, pulled it out and got a better look at it. Hmm...I wonder what this was used for?

With some time and patience, Michael soon got the upper part of her body done. But it wasn’t without its complications. The Foxy arm that Michael had planned to use for Baby, had a separate attachment option than Baby’s arm. This had annoyed him to no end. But the moment he looked at the leftover claw, Michael started to experiment with it. Could the claw be used as another hand option? With a little tweaking and wiring, it could! Even though it looked like something even more murderous than his father’s blueprint plans, it did make Baby look more complete.

Michael soon laid the upper body down on the desk and started attaching the legs. Funnily enough, the legs were similarly reattachable just like Baby’s legs. Though Foxy’s legs looked more slim than Baby’s did. Baby had some thick legs. But with the new set up and the arms (kinda), the legs seemed to look anatomically correct. So, Michael connected them and stood Circus Baby back up.

It was...not as pretty as it started out. Well duh...It most likely wasn’t gonna be as nice-looking. The nice-looking one was also a secret killer. At least it actually looks like it commits murders. Michael started up the Servos motor, and watched as the animatronic quickly came back to life. Circus Baby lifted its body, opened its eyes wider and started moving its hand and arms around.

“Hello! Welcome to Circus Baby’s Pizza world. Are you ready for the show? I can sing, I can dance, I can even make you ice cream.” Baby greeted.

“Hello again Baby.” Michael greeted with a smile.

Baby moved her left hand up to her chin. “Do I know you?” She asked.

Michael nodded. “I worked here a week ago. Eggs Benedict, as Handunit called me.” Michael explained.

Baby held her hands in front of her belly, and tilted her head to the side with a smile. “Welcome back Mr. Afton.”

Michael’s eyes widened. How-

“I recognize you now. You’re much too big to fit in my storage tank. You must be fully grown.” Baby told him.

Michael bit his lip and awkwardly nodded. Thank goodness for that. “Do...Do you know my name?” Michael asked.

“You’re the first born son of Afton. He talked about you while he was building me. He didn’t know I was aware at the time.” Circus Baby explained.

Michael nodded and started to detach the chest again. Michael grabbed some wires and started connecting them to Circus Baby’s neck. “That’s funny. My father barely noticed me, and was too embarrassed to talk about me.” Michael admitted.

Baby looked at Michael as he weaved the wires into the chest and replaced them. “What are you doing to me?” Baby asked.

“Fixing you as best I can.” Michael replied.

“Where is Mr. Afton?” Baby asked.

“He…” Michael sighed as he removed a faulty wire. “He died a decade ago. He got into a wearable animatronic, and…” Michael made a raspberry sound and did a ‘cut the throat’ signal to represent death.

“Oh.” Baby replied. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Michael guffawed and snorted at those words. Baby quickly lifted her head up to look at him in worry. Michael’s smile dropped as he saw Baby’s facial expression. “Sorry. He...did some really bad things. So: it was a relief to hear he died. He deserved his death.” Michael explained.

Baby looked down, looking really sad. “I did something bad once.” Baby admitted.

Michael nodded. “I know, I know. You tried to give a little girl ice cream, and you ended up killing her.” Michael added.

“I didn’t know I would do that. I didn’t know my ice cream would be used to kill a child.” Baby admitted.

Michael placed his hands onto her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “I know that. And it’s okay. You were created by an evil man who killed children with his bare hands. You are not to blame for what happened to Elizabeth.” Michael told her.

Baby tilted her head. “...Elizabeth?”

Michael nodded. “Yup. Her name was Elizabeth.” he explained. He looked down a little. “She was my sister.”

Baby looked down, hung her head and dropped her tiny pigtail connectors. “I’m sorry.”

Michael smiled empathetically and lifted her chin a little with his hand. “It’s okay. You remind me of her a lot.” He admitted. “Just...with no british accent.” Michael said with a chuckle.

Baby looked at him more and smiled.

“Now: I need to keep wiring you up and replacing any faulty wires. You’re kind of a mess right now, Baby.” Michael told her as he started connecting a wire to her neck.

“Okay. I’ll try to stay still Mr. Afto-” Baby stopped herself. She looked at Michael for clarification.

Michael chuckled and connected another wire. “Call me Michael.”

Michael took a break from all the wiring in the body, and decided to spend some time turning black wires and different-colored tube parts into makeshift pigtails for her. When he filled in the face with layered orange and yellow bangs, Michael put together a pony by wrapping another black wire around the start of both pigtails. After the pigtails and the bangs were complete, Michael returned to fixing the wires on her body. But when Michael worked on her neck, Baby began struggling to stay still.

“Michael, your hands feel strange against my neck.” Baby admitted.

“Feel...strange…?” Michael repeated slowly. He brought his hand up to Baby’s neck and touched it. “Like this?”

Baby smiled and tilted her head to the side the hand was on. “Yes!”

“You...You can feel something?” Michael asked, moving his hand to the front of her neck. Baby quickly pushed his hand away with her hand and...let out a quiet little giggle. It was hard to hear, but Michael was just able to catch it.

Michael decided to ignore it for now, and started weaving a few wires through the chest. That didn’t seem to cause a reaction. But as soon as the other side of the wire reached her side, Baby started wiggling and smiling a little wider. Michael looked up at Baby just once, and quickly started spidering his fingers up and down the left white side cover.

Baby’s reaction was immediate! She closed her eyes as she let out a squeal! She quickly leaned over and covered up her side with her arms. “Heeheehee!...” Baby opened her eyes and looked down in confusion. “It’s making me laugh.” Baby looked up at Michael.

Michael was looking at her with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Her laughter was...really innocent-sounding! And it reminded him a little of his mother’s laugh. “I...Wow!” Michael immediately ran back up and started tickling the side again. “Do you actually feel this?”

Baby closed her eyes and started giggling again. As her hands moved around to cover up her sides, Michael snuck around and started attacking them from behind. This caused Baby to squeal again and bounce around on the spot! “HEHEHEhehehe! Mihihichahahael! Ihihihi dohohon’t uhuhunderstahahahand!” Baby told him, shaking her head as she giggled.

“This is gonna sound nuts…” Michael paused for a moment and held his forehead. “But so far, you have the same ticklish spots as Elizabeth.” Michael finished.

Baby had her back to Michael while holding her sides a few feet in front of him. Curious, Baby turned her head around 180 degrees to look at him again. “Really?” Baby asked, turning the rest of her body 180 degrees to match her head’s direction.

Michael widened his eyes at the super wrong head contortion, but soon walked back up to her. “Yeah! Her sides,” Michael poked her sides and watched as Baby jumped and threw her pigtails up.

“Her neck,” Michael gave both sides of Baby’s neck a little tickle. Baby giggled and started laughing as well while bouncing on the spot and waving her head back and forth.

“And her hips!” Michael went for the orange pieces at the bottom right before Baby’s skirt, and gave them both a squeeze. To Michael’s surprise, Baby leaped a good 3 feet into the air and thankfully, landed on both her feet! But the moment Michael so much as touched her orange ‘hips’ again, Baby flopped backwards onto the ground like she had lost all the muscles in her legs.

Michael had bursted out laughing at Baby’s funny-looking fall. Baby had gotten herself back up onto her feet, and looked at Michael with growing curiosity in her eyes. “Do you have this same feeling?” Baby walked up to Michael and attempted to give his side a poke. While the finger touched the shirt, the shirt seemed to sink in, revealing something unusual about his body shape. Baby was about to lift up Michael’s shirt to see why his body was so thin, but Michael pushed her hand away and tucked his shirt in again. “No touching my lower body.” Michael ordered. He waved his hands up and down from the bottom ribs to the hips. “All of this is a no touch zone.” Michael told her.

Baby nodded in understanding, and proceeded to poke his ribs instead. Michael jumped and yelped, quickly realizing what she was doing. He tried stepping back to get away, but it didn’t take long for another yelp to leave Michael’s mouth as he discovered: He had backed himself into a wall! Baby smiled, opened her big claw hand and placed it around him! This caused Michael to get stuck in between the claw and somewhat pinned against the wall.

“I want to see if you jump and giggle when I poke you.” Baby told him casually.

Michael tried to get himself through the claw, but the claw spikes would scratch against his arms and dig into the already-dying skin. So he was forced to attempt escapes while she tickled him out of pure curiosity.

Baby started off poking his different ribs. Michael would yelp and jump with each and every poke, trying his hardest not to satisfy her. But the longer that she poked and scratched the ribs, the more his instincts would betray him. Soon, Baby would tilt her head at the look of a wobbly smile growing on his face. “You do grow happy when I poke your endoskeleton.” Baby reacted with a smile.

Next, Baby tried tickling his neck. Michael squealed super high-pitched and shook his head all over the place. Then, things got even worse when Baby remembered how Michael had squeezed her! Baby had started imitating the squeezing motion, which was making Michael sweat in fear and anticipation. Finally, after about 3 minutes of squeezing the air, Baby moved her hand to the ribs and gave them a squeeze.

“eeEEEEEHEHEHEHEHE! STAHAHAHAHA!” Michael bursted out laughing almost instantly!

Baby was impressed! “You sound like you’re having fun.” Baby told him as she continued squeezing and poking his ribs.

“IHIHIHIHI- BAHAHAHABYYYYYY! STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHI’M WAHAHAY TOO-TIHIHICKLIHIHISH!” Michael shouted loudly.

Baby stopped squeezing and leaned her body ahead a little. “What did you say?” She asked.

Michael’s laughter fell right to giggles the moment she stopped tickling. “Ihi...I said...Stop I’m way too ticklish.” Michael replied.

Baby straightened her back and tilted her head to the right side. “What is ticklish?”

Michael let out a few laughs and widened his smile a little. “Ihit’s...something I haven’t experienced in years.” He replied. “It’s...what I was doing to you. Tickling you, to be specific. Tickle is a noun meaning to touch someone in a spot that makes them laugh.” Michael explained. “E...Elizabeth...I tickled her a lot...especially as a toddler.” Michael explained.

“Ooh. So this-” Elizabeth gave his ribs another squeeze, “is tickling.” Baby asked.

Michael squeaked yet again and bursted out laughing again. “YEHEHEHES, TIHICKLIHIHING, FEHEHEHEELS LIHIHIKE IHIT, YEHEHEAH!” Michael replied, nodding his head.

Baby smiled and continued to squeeze his ribs. “I’m tickling you. I’m giving you a tickle squeeze.” Baby said out loud as she tickled him.

“OHOHOKAHAHAY, YOHOHOU CAHAHAN STAHAHAP NOHOHOW!” Michael tried to order.

Baby tilted her head and lowered her pigtails. “But why would I stop? You’re enjoying yourself the way children enjoy ice cream, or balloons. You’re laughing.” Baby told him.

Michael didn’t really want to admit it, but she had a point. He was actually enjoying himself. The years of not being touched properly, were starting to really get to him. And this random act of touch, was making up for all the years of lacking love. It felt...nice.

“OHOHOKAHAHAY. YOHOHOU- YOHOHOU’RE RIHIHIGHT. IHIHI LIHIHIKE THIHIHIS. YOHOHOU WIHIHIN.” Michael finally gave up.

Baby raised her pigtails and practically beamed upon hearing those words. ‘You’re right’! ‘You win’! She was right! She actually won! Baby placed Michael down and clapped her metal hand and claw together excitedly. “I won! I won! I won I won I won!” She declared.

Baby quickly pulled out a few balloons from another little storage unit, and started blowing up balloons with her fingers. Then, she tied them together and added string to them. Michael watched the funny celebration reaction as he got himself up off the floor. Then, to Michael’s surprise:

Baby handed him the tied bouquet of balloons. “Here.”

Michael looked at the balloons, in which the strings had been tied together near the bottom. Michael smiled and happily took the balloons.

...Only for him to tie it onto a dresser knob and squeeze Baby’s hips again.

Baby squealed yet again, and flopped backwards onto the ground, holding her hips. This time, Michael took advantage of the girl down and climbed on, to continue tickling her hips and sides. Baby was now a mess of childish laughter and cute little giggles. And thankfully, Michael never got a claw to the face! Who knew that putting Baby back together would be one of the best things to ever happen to him?

#mentions elizabeth #michael and scrap baby #circus baby turned scrap baby #eggs benedict is michael afton #corpse michael #michael afton has ptsd #mild hurt/comfort #family fluff #ticklefic #switch!baby #switch!michael

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miracul0us-multishipper · 4 years

Text

You (Part 2)

Now you see me, now you don’t!

Part 1 | AO3

Felix Graham De Vanily was, in his own humble opinion, special.

He was smart.

He was composed.

He knew exactly what to say and when, and he could make people see exactly what he wanted them to see.

He wasn’t his cousin, after all, almost identical looks aside. Adrien never knew when to speak up, or when it was better to stay quiet. Never knew how to hide his thoughts and keep his - utterly unrealistic, when it came to his father - hopes in check. And he might be smarter than Felix gave him credit for, but all that intelligence left him as soon as his friends were concerned.

That was what all his flaws boiled down to, really.

Adrien made the fatal, unforgiving mistake of caring too much. Always had.

(It was what Felix liked about him, deep down. Adrien was genuine, in everything he felt. Felix envied him for the ease with which he made friends.)

But.

Felix wasn’t like Adrien at all. He was too smart to care for people - his mother aside - any more than he had to. Mundane distractions. Friends, crushes - all things that would only deter him from his path in life: high above the crowd, always the center of attention, yet unreachable. Playing everyone, but gone before anybody noticed.

It was a glorious but lonely road. No, scratch that. It was a lonely but glorious road. Much better.

He didn’t need anything or anyone.

He was the sole and solemn genius of the family.

He was a magician, who didn’t need any fancy jewelry to work miracles - just the right distraction and disguise.

He was-

“Ow!”

Groaning Felix looked at the little bite marks on his finger.

“Were you even listening?! Or did you just wait for an opportunity to stab me in the back?”

The black and white bundle of fur and betrayal on his lap meowed and swiped at his hand, now out of reach.

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”, he grumbled and shoved the traitor off of his legs, but couldn’t help but smile when he smugly licked his nose - as if to say: I'd do it again. “I raised you too well. Now, where was I?”

He sighed.

“Ah, yes. I don’t care for anyone - please stop scratching that ear, honey, it’s not healed yet - because I'm just too smart for that. So it’s utterly impossible that I, Felix Graham de Vanily, am in love with Dupain-Cheng. Got it?”

His cat, the little bastard, answered by knocking his pencil box over and started to chew on a pen. Felix narrowed his eyes.

“Oh? You dare doubt my word?”

With quick fingers he stole his cat's spoils and placed it out of his reach.

“Quite bold for a creature without opposable thumbs, hm?”

Insulted, the poor, thumbless pet retreated to his laptop and laid down on the keyboard - causing the screensaver to give way to the last opened tab. Which was Marinette's Instagram page.

“Wah!”

Hurried to hide the proof of his interest - as if she might somehow appear in his room if he looked at her picture for too long - he shooed his pet away and closed the tab. Said pet meowed smugly and, upset about being chased away from two spots already, sat down on his pillow. Great.

“You did that on purpose!”, he accused his cat. “But that tab proves nothing. It was merely a passing interest in her admittedly wearable work. It has nothing to do with any confessions - faked confessions, or that she can apparently recognize me in disguise, or the very neutral fact that she is cute, by some people's - not my own! - standards.”

His cat blinked. And sneezed onto his pillow.

“Bless you. Now move, or I’ll use you instead of a bunny for that hat trick I’m working on.”

Sighing, Felix let himself fall backwards onto his bed, grabbing the fleeing cat and burying his face in the fluffy fur.

“Oh, to be a cat!”, he wailed into his involuntary comfort pillow. “With no troubles except how to best annoy his owner.”

The poor animal hissed and escaped his grasp, saving himself from the bitter fate of a comfort pillow.

“Run, you uncaring monster.”, Felix sighed, “Leave me to my worries. Which don’t include Marinette at all, by the way.”

He sat up and watched as the little traitor turned to sulk on his dresser.

“Stop looking at me like that. Even if I had a short bout of interest - possibly even infatuation! It’s already all but cured.”

He nodded to himself, ignoring that the disinterested cat had begun cleaning his leg instead of listening.

“School's closed, after all!”, he hummed, scrolling through the news on his phone. “And social contacts are to be reduced to the bare minimum. So I’m not going to see her again before this passing interest has... well, passed.”

As if in response to his words, his laptop started to ring and the monitor lit up with the picture of blue, blue eyes and a smile that could melt the stars off of the sky. Not that he paid attention to such things.

“Oh no, no, no!”, he panted as he fell out of his bed and stumbled towards the computer. “Incoming Skype call?! Oh, come on!”

The ringtone repeated itself and Felix jumped.

“What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?”

Panicking, he looked at his pet.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

The addressed party blinked. And went back to licking his nuts.

“Argh! I am surrounded by incompetence!”

Taking a deep breath, Felix straightened his vest and cravat - just because he was staying at home for the foreseeable future didn’t mean that he would dress any less professionally.

“Who needs your advice anyway. I can do this.”

He straightened his back and sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

“I am Felix Graham de Vanily, the best actor in all of France and the United Kingdom, not in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I can totally answer a Skype call.”

Before he could think again, he pressed the green button.

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng!”, he greeted overly enthusiastic. “We meet again.”

“If you can call it that.”, Marinette laughed with the voice of a goddamn angel. She was wearing a white, polka-dotted pajama top, was illuminated by early-noon sunlight falling through some sort of window in the ceiling, and her hair – was – down.

If this was some sort of cosmic test, it wasn’t fair.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your virtual company?”, he said quickly, trying not to think too much about how her hair looked even softer than the fur of a certain cat. Then, for good measure, he added: “Miss me already?”

Marinette disappeared for a moment, before returning with a sizable stack of papers.

“As much as I could do without my favorite pain in the neck, we have a school assignment to do. You know, since school is closed?”

She leaned in and he held his breath.

“Did you even notice? I haven’t seen you last Friday.”

What was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I noticed alright! It kept me from embarrassing myself by avoiding you, because my brain got all mushy ever since you fake-confessed to me pretending to be my cousin?

Ha! Fat chance.

“Aw, worried for me?”, he improvised, as usual, by being sarcastic. “Let me soothe your concern for your favorite pain in the neck: I merely got tired of cosplaying Adrien. I'm a very busy man, you see?”

She rolled her eyes and somehow managed to make it look cute.

“Of course you are. Well, hopefully not too busy for a presentation on marine biology, due next week.”

He blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the one Adrien and I are supposed to do?”

Felix Had Questions. For example:

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hack into Adriens E-mail account. I saw you present homework that you couldn’t have known about if Madame Mendeleiev hadn’t emailed you, as Adrien.”

She raised an eyebrow, in a way that could almost be described as playful.

“Plus, you seem the type to do that.”

He scoffed and crossed his arms, as if it would hide his racing heartbeat.

“First of all: No, I am not breaking into my cousins account. I may like to prank him - or rather everyone, really - but that goes a little far. Secondly, that Lila girl was only too eager to do homework with Adrien-Me, so I could keep up with every assignment once I could get her hands off of me.”

“I thought a magician never revealed his tricks?”

True. But he had wanted to see if she would get jealous. Which she didn’t. Which was expected and totally fine by him. He didn’t care anyways.

Lucky for him, Marinette wanted to tease him more than an answer.

“Well, I hope your work ethic is better when it comes to presentations. I'll send you the materials!”

A click later, his laptop alerted him of One New Email, containing no less than twenty-two pages of material. He raised his eyebrows.

“Not to crush your little illusion of me as a hard-working student, but that looks like awfully tedious work. What makes you think I would voluntarily do homework meant for Prince Charming?”

The sassy little smirk she'd shown him during their battles of wit last week returned.

“You mean, aside from the fact that, once school is open again and Adrien is back, your little trick with pretending to be him will be revealed? And that I’m your best chance not to be chased out of town by a very angry Chloé Bourgeois? Not to start with Alya, Rose and Juleka, who still haven’t forgiven you for that stunt you pulled the last time you were here.”

Sound argument, he had to give her that.

“Pah!”, he said, just for the sake of irritating her. “So what? It’s not like it was my idea to move to Paris anyway!”

That was at least partially true. His mother had insisted to come back to France, mostly because she wanted to keep an eye on Gabriel. But he hadn’t been against it either.

It wasn’t like he had friends in London anyway, and in Paris it at least didn’t get boring, with all these butterflies and superheroes. Plus, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had missed Adrien. That boy could use a little family - once Felix was done pretending to be him.

Marinette hummed and tapped her chin impatiently.

“Well, then see it as the prize you promised me after our little insult-match at the Trocadero.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”, he held up his hands. “I already settled that score, didn’t I? You confessed to me, remember?”

“I practiced confessing to Adrien with you, you mean.”, she reminded him with a raised eyebrow – Ouch, by the way – before leaning back in her pink chair. “And that was because you talked me into it. I never told you what I wanted, did I?”

Well, fuck. Not that the prospect of working with Marinette was that unpleasant, but in his current state of emotional confusion, it would only be detrimental. He needed an out, an excuse!

“Why would you want to work with me anyways? I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to do something with Prince Adrien of Dreamland. Why settle for the pain in the neck?”

Marinette sighed.

“Adrien is still recovering from his flu, and given the current, ah, global situation, I thought it would be better to put his health first. Besides, you're my favorite pain in the neck.”

“I'm flattered, darling”, he said, trying not to sound like it was as true as it was, “but-“

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette interrupted him with a shout, and suddenly her eyes dominated the entire screen, as if she were mere millimeters away from her own computer. “Felix! What is that?!”

“Huh?”, he made, eloquent as usual. He turned around, just in time to see his traitorous cat jump from the dresser right onto his lap. Apparently, now that Felix had someone else to talk to, the little bastard felt neglected.

“You mean him?”, he asked, turning back to the screen with the cat in his lap. An inhuman squeal came from the other side of the line and Marinette sacked back into her chair, which spun around its axis, like, three times in a single second.

“Felix Graham de Vanily!”, she said with all but glowing eyes. “Show – me – the cat!”

Since her voice made absolutely clear that it had been an order and Felix had always had a strong survival instinct, he obediently held up the little monster. Who let out a plaintive little “Mow”, but otherwise submitted to his fate.

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette repeated, “He's adorable!”

“You think?”, Felix said dumbly, at a loss for how to react to this sudden change in situation.

“I do! I do! What's his name?”

“Uh...”, Felix thought, debating whether a lie would save his reputation. “Uhm...”

“Don’t tell me you named him Felix Junior!” She turned towards the cat in false exasperation. “Did he name you Felix Junior?!”

The cat that was most certainly not named Felix Junior meowed in his feline confusion.

“No, of course not!”, Felix snapped back, sinking into the chair as if it might have mercy and swallow him.

“Then what's his name? What, for God’s sake, is this pretty little kitty called?!”

What had his life turned into?

“'dini.”, he mumbled, hiding his face behind the cat.

“What? Speak louder!”, Marinette demanded, and so he accepted his fate.

“Houdini!”, he groaned in embarrassment. “I named him Houdini, alright? I was eleven!”

For a moment, the line went quiet. Then, inevitably, Marinette burst out in laughter.

“For real? I can’t believe it!”

Sulking, Felix turned away from the screen, but immediately Marinette stopped.

“No, no, no! Bring Houdini back! I love his name, okay? Give him back!”

“You're not telling anybody of him, got it?”, he hissed, cheeks as red as Ladybug's suit. Marinette snickered.

“Of course, I promise. Houdini will be our little secret, alright? Now bring him back!”

Satisfied, Felix turned the chair back towards the laptop and placed Houdini on the desk. The curious thing didn’t hesitate to lounge onto his keyboard and examined the camera, much to Marinette’s delight.

“Oh lord, he's so cute!”

Felix sighed and leaned back.

“Believe me, he knows.”

“He looks just like you!”

At that, Felix spluttered and jumped up again.

“W-w-what?!”

Internally already setting up the equation: “Marinette thinks Houdini is cute, and Marinette thinks Houdini looks like Felix, then Marinette thinks Felix is cute?” he was about two seconds from fainting.

“He's got a little tie, see?”, Marinette giggled on, ignorant of the thought-spiral she'd sent him into. “Just like you!”

Oh. She meant the patterns of his fur, which admittedly looked a little like he was wearing a tie. Of course.

“Who's the most adorable thing in Paris? You are!”, Marinette continued with her shameless adoration of that undeserving little brat, who currently Mow-ed happily at the screen. Pah!

“Just so you know, he bites people for fun.”, Felix badmouthed his own pet, absolutely not because he was jealous. “You can’t trust him. He'll act sweet, but as soon as you're not looking he's got your fingers between his sharp little fangs!”

“Eh, I can handle it.”, Marinette shrugged and immediately went back to admiring Houdini. “You're a good kitty, aren’t you? The best, the best! Yes, you are!”

“No, he's not!”, Felix insisted through clenched teeth. “He's moody and arrogant! Nobody likes him, that's why I took him in! He thinks it’s fun to hurt people, he holds grudges forever and he's incredibly annoying when he's bored!”

Wait, was he still talking about the cat?

“You just like him because he looks all cute and innocent, but if you knew him, you'd never even want to be in the same room as him.”

Marinette had gone quiet on the other side, and Houdini narrowed his eyes at him in betrayal. Then she shrugged.

“If you don’t want him anymore, I'll take him in.”

“What?!”

She would have to pry the little shit out of his cold, dead hands!

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” he asked, trying not to let on that he didn’t actually dislike Houdini.

Marinette smiled.

“Sure. But I still think he's a good kitty.”

“But why?”

She hummed, pushing her stack of papers aside so she could put her elbows on the desk. Resting her chin on her hand, she looked up in him.

“Most cats are. You just got to give them a chance to come out of their shell.”

“But... But he's mean!”

“Maybe he's just lonely. Maybe he needs some friends, and then he'll learn to be nicer. I can wait.”

He was not blushing!

“Why would you want to? There's lots of better cats, you could just pick one of them right away.”

“Yeah, well, I want Houdini. All cats deserve a chance. Even the meaner ones.”

She smiled down at the black and white loaf that purred on his keyboard.

“In my experience, peop- cats only show their best sides if you give them a chance to open up. If you're too quick to brush them aside as hopeless, or mean, you might miss out on the most wonderful personalities underneath. And I think Houdini is one of those.”

And then, because the universe just wanted to see him fall, she winked at him. Jesus Christ!

“Anyway, I'll give you some time to read through the material I sent you. Message me once you’re done, we've got a lot of work ahead. Bye!”

Before he could realize what she had said, the window blanked and closed on him. Disappointed that his fan had vanished, Houdini meowed and returned once again to Felix' lap.

“Bye.”, Felix stammered belatedly. What had just... How could she go around just saying things like that? And then hang up?!

“Ugh, Houdini!”, he lamented. “Look what I have become!”

Reduced to a beetred, stammering, weird-cat-metaphor-using fool!

The cat gave a smug “Mrow” and headbutted him in the chin, but Felix didn’t have it in him to complain.

“Fine,” he sighed in defeat, “you win. So what if I like her?”

Houdini purred.

“You do too, don’t you? Bet you'd bite her anyway.”

He purred on, unperturbed.

“Knew it.”

He sighed once again.

“She's right, though. You are a good kitty. Deep down.”

Houdini meowed and licked his finger, just where he'd bitten him earlier.

“Well, now you're just sucking up to me! Two-faced little demon. Mwah!”

He pressed a small kiss to the top of his furry head, then rolled the chair closer to the desk and opened his emails.

“Alright, then.”, he tried to motivate himself, “let's show Marinette what a good kitty- what a good person we are and do our homework.”

At that, Houdini promptly stood up and jumped onto the bed, leaving him alone with twenty-two pages of reading material.

“Bastard.”

- - -

Bonus:

Ladybug, crashing through Felix' window: Felix Graham de Vanily!

Felix: Ladybug?!

Ladybug: I have it on good authority that you own a good kitty! It is crucial for the safety of Paris that I pet him right this instant!

Felix, remembering her right hook: ... sure?

#miramu writes #felinette fluff #felinette #felix/marinette #canon!felix #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #its corona time

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qawsslate · 3 years

Text

newbies

another nct drabble, short story, one shot, scenario?

genre: fluff probs

tw: none

pairing: Renjun & reader

a/n: idk bro read at ur own risk, i used google translate for a thing but im hoping it makes sense in the context, feel free to interact :))

____

"Renjun-ah it’s fine. You, of all people, know how forgiving she is.”

“Ya! Haechan, don’t say it like that. Renjun-ah it looks really nice she’ll love it.”

Haechan and Jeno were gathered in Renjun and Jisung’s shared bedroom attempting to calm the nerves of the older Dream member. He had just finished a painting he had been working on for the last month in prepation for Valentine’s Day. He knew you weren’t expecting anything as in Korea, the traditional practice was for the girl in the relationship to give the guy chocolates, but neither of you were big on the specifics of things like that. You both shared the sentiment of holidays but were also practical in the ways you gave gifts to each other. Last Christmas, Renjun had given you a new winter coat since the one you’ve been using since your teenager years had begun to literally tear at the seam. You often brushed off his nagging of buying a new coat with protests of the coat still doing its job.

“Renjun, the coat is fine. I’m still perfectly warm”

“Y/n, I can see the thread that’s keeping the arm sleeve attached to the rest of it hanging off. I bet if I pull it the whole thing would fall apart. Here let me show you.”

He reached down and pretended to yank the thread which prompted you to gasp in amused disbelief.

“Ya! Don’t you dare! Did you really pull it off?”

You looked down at your arm trying to assess if in fact the fabric on your body was still a piece of wearable clothing.

He laughed and just embraced you in a hug.

He had followed up the new winter coat with a flower plushie you had commented that was cute a week ago in a shop, his favorite scented candle so you could be reminded of him when he was away on a schedule, a neck massager because he thought you spent too much time at your desk, an insulated bottle so you would drink more water and not coffee, a polaroid camera for the memories and random Chinese snacks you really liked. He was very practical yet considerate, and it made your heart swell. You almost cried thinking all of it was too much and he had to hold your face in is hands and make you look at him so he could tell you that you were worth it.

What you didn’t know that he also wanted to gift you with a necklace but second guessed himself too much to the point where he took the small box out of the pile of gifts only minutes before he gave you the heap of presents. Mark was the only member he told about the necklace beforehand but Renjun unfortunately had forgotten to inform his loveable hyung of his inaction, a problem that presented itself the morning after Christmas.

“Y/n! Merry-day-after-Christmas! How was Christmas with Renjunnie? Did you like the necklace?”

You, Mark, and Renjun had been sitting at the Dream dorm kitchen table eating leftovers from the small dinner Jaemin had made at 3am. Thankfully the rest of the boys were still asleep so the damage could still be contained. Renjun choked on the green tea he had been drinking but quickly recoverd.

“Neck massager hyung. The Korean word for neck massager is 목 마사지기. Ahhh, it’s because he’s a foreigner.”

Renjun laughed a little too forcibly and tried to signal to Mark as much as humanly possible without bursting a vein that the necklace gift was aborted. By some Christmas miracle, Mark had somehow picked up on the hint and quickly corrected himself. He even added a white lie to support the neck massager fib, quickly sputtering that he had helped Renjun pick out a neck massager with the recommnedations from his mom, his aunt, his grandmother, and his cousin who was some sort of professional massager. You answered honestly that you had yet to put it to use as you forgot to charge it last night. You weren’t sure if it was the happiness hangover or lack of sleep after Christmas Day that made you think Mark and Renjun were acting strange, but you became distracted from dwelling on their behavior as Haechan and Jisung came into the kitchen. The mood quickly shifted and Renjun felt like he could breathe for the first time in what felt like an hour. You had become preoccupied in helping Jisung follow a recipe on how to make American style pancakes and scolding Haechan for handing the gullible maknae wrong ingredients. After a few minutes Renjun had excused himself to check on Jaemin and Jeno, and Mark announced he had to use the bathroom. Once out of earshot from the mess in the kitchen Mark turned to Renjun,

“You didn’t give it to her?”

“No, hyung, honestly I got too scared. What if she didn’t want it? What if she thinks I’m going too far? What if it’s too serious all of a sudden?”

“Well, don’t you want to be serious with y/n?”

“Of course. More than anything. I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Renjunnie,” Mark placed his hands on his shoulders, “you are doing great. Do whatever feels right to you. But if you’re only doubting yourself I think it’s still a good idea to give her the necklace.”

Renjun still looked conflicted and mindlessly opened the door to Jaemin room then Jeno’s.

The four proceeded back to the suspiciously quiet kitchen to find Jisung sat at the table and Haechan and you making the rest of the pancakes. When Jaemin asked what happened, Haechan responded,

“We wanted to make sure you guys still had a place to live.”

The necklace matter had been dropped and about a month later all those repressed emotions Renjun had came back. It was two nights before Valentine’s Day and both just wanted a quiet evening. Renjun planned to cook a dinner at your apartment and the whole thing felt innocent until he thought about how you guys hadn’t even been officially together for more than a year. He suddenly felt the pressure, the implications, the underlying tone of something like giving you a piece of jewelry. His plan was to just give you a painting. He had carefully recreated the scene of the park where he first saw you. You had been pushing children on the swings. He had thought you were a babysitter of some sort until you waved to the kids goodbye and saw the nearby adults scoop them in their arms and walk away. Then he saw you swinging by yourself. He never revealed this to you during your first official encounter as he didn’t think it would be smooth to open up with, “I’ve been watching you swing by yourself at the children’s park.” He also hadn’t been initially sure if you were the same girl he had wistfully observed, but you had once planned a park date at your favorite spot.

“It’s actually quite near your dorm, we could walk there if you’re up to it? Sometimes I play with the kids. It’s gotten to the point where some of the mothers have recognized me.”

Renjun immediately knew you had been that girl he had observed in what felt like a lifetime ago. He knew that one day he would really have to treat Chenle to a meal for introducing you both. Renjun also knew if he had admitted this to Chenle now he would never let it go and it would somehow inflate the size of that kid’s head even more, but he added it to the list of things he loved about his younger member.

Renjun had carefully recreated the details from his memories of those days, paying particular attention to that coat you refused to give up on and he had just finished the painting when Haechan decided to burst into his room.

“Renjunnie! Have you ate? Let’s eat.”

Renjun had been so absorbed with his doubts that the sudden interruption almost made him fall off his chair. Renjun almost gets as easily startled as Jisung, but the magnitude of his reaction made Haechan take a step back and immediately set off his signature mischief.

“Ya, is the innocent and pure boy doing something naughty? You know you should really lock your doors Renjun-ah”

Renjun scrammbled to find something to cover the painting. His tidy desk space provided no aid and his next move was to flip the whole thing over deciding to deal with the consquences of the still wet paint later, but Haechan moved quickly and pulled Renjun’s arms up away from the canvas.

“Ya, what’s this?”

“Nothing. Heachan, please.”

Renjun sighed. He had no problem in any other situation to fight the boy who always tested his limits, but with the awkward sitting position he was in, Renjun knew that there was no logistically sound way to physically fight Haechan at the moment.

“Oh, it’s just another painting. Why were you so freaked out- YA! Is that y/n?!”

Haechan dropped Renjun’s arms, his first mistake, as Renjun took the opportunity to lunge towards the painting. Haechan proceeded to yank the back of the wooden chair -- his second mistake -- and he called out for reinforcements.

“JENO-AH!”

Jeno was not surprised that the bickering quickly took place, but was also concerned with the intensity of Haechan’s scream. Jeno regretfully entered the space of what would ultimately disrupt the otherwise peaceful morning and listened to the chorus of Renjun’s mild curses and death threats and Haechan’s shameless happy teasing although he was the one in the headlock.

“Ya, you two. Can we just go eat?”

“Jeno-ah, grab that. QUICKLY.”

Curiosity took over and Jeno obeyed. Renjun knew that although Jeno lacked in the desire of fighting members, he made up for with his physcial strengh. Renjun was quite aware that Jeno could quite literally pick him and Haechan up to stop the sqaubble. Renjun gave a frustrated sigh of defeat and sat back down at his desk while Jeno and Haechan sat on the nearby bed to fully observe the art piece.

“Is this y/n? It’s really good.”

“Our Renjunnie is growing up so fast. It’s cute to see you in love.”

The casualness of Haechan’s sentiment in dropping the L word set off alarms in Renjun’s brain but curiously not his heart. He quickly pushed off whatever deer in headlights reaction he showed and calmy took the painting back from Jeno. He decided to just tell the two that it was for Valentine’s Day and mumbled that he wasn’t sure if you were gonna like it.

"Renjun-ah it’s fine. You, of all people, know how forgiving she is.”

“Ya! Haechan, don’t say it like that. Renjun-ah it looks really nice she’ll love it.”

Haechan sensed it was the right time to get serious.

“Renjun-ah. Honestly. It’s a really good painting. She’ll love it. That girl loves everything you do.”

Jeno hummed in agreement.

“Injunnie, it will be okayyy.”

Jeno’s speciality in dorm-only aegyo gave Renjun comfort. It almost brought back a sense of normalcy in Renjun’s emotions. He was also grateful to Haechan although no matter how much the boy made it a sport to annoy him, he could still be mature when it counted. He thanked God that the necklace had been safely hidden in a drawer and considered the many ways the situation could have escalated if the two boys saw that the painting gift was not the main source of his anxiety.

Renjun thought it would be best to change the subject from his insecurities about his love life. Love, he thought, there was that word again.

---------------

hi i have a tendency to not end my fics well, lemme know what yall think

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emgkheadcannons · 4 years

Text

Their First Christmas

Colson has no idea what to get Marshall for Christmas. The man has everything he could want, and if he didn’t then he could go out and buy it. Yeah, all the help Marshall has done to make a better living with his art, has helped him financially, and he can comfortably afford a gift for the man, but what! He has been racking his brain, to no avail. He knew he could draw something for Marshall but whatever he tried to draw didn’t feel right, or didn’t look right to him. Christmas was four and a half weeks away, he needed to pick a project or find something else for him.

He could do a mural on one of the walls of Marshall's house, like a superhero one in his comic book room, but he hasn’t been to Marshall’s house, or even seen the room.

He could buy him some clothes, but Colson wants the gift to be more personal than just some shirts or sweats.

It finally hits him, the day before Thanksgiving. He could do a custom paint job on a pair of shoes. Marshall loves Nike, especially Air Maxes. He has some friends who customize clothes and shoes, who have a lot of the supplies and could help him. He would have to also buy any specific dye, thread, paint, and fabric he might need, but the basics would be there.

Colson sends a few quick texts, and a phone call before looking up who had the best sales on Air Maxes for Black Friday. With a plan in place Colson feels better, and starts to think of a mock up for the shoes.

A week later Colson has the shoes, Nike Air Max 90, a few different designs, and his friends are game to help him with his project. First he has to decide on a design. Did he want to do an artsy design and have them be more of a display shoe, or did he want to do something more practical that Marshal could wear all the time. Some of the designs he liked more than the others. One incorporates all of Marshall’s albums. There was a Detroit themed design, but being from Cleveland, Colson just couldn't bring himself to make that one. He also had one that was based off of his comic, since that is what brought them together, but Colson wants to save that. If these shoes turn out well he will make those as a thank you present for the older man.

Colson decided on a blue ombre design that was very wearable. The main body of the shoe would fade from white to dark blue, with black, white, and gray accents.

It took Colson about a week and a half to finish the shoes, but the end result was perfect. He even made a custom box for them. Now he just has to wait to exchange presents.

******

Marshall couldn’t decide what to get Colson for Christmas. Should he get him art supplies, if so which ones? Should he get him a couple of oversized sweaters that he loves to wear? Was it okay for him to buy Colson jewelry? How much can he buy for Colson before he makes the younger man uncomfortable? He has no idea, or too many ideas.

Hailey and Whitteny drag him out shopping with them for some last minute gifts. Marshall sees a display for wool socks. They are really soft to the touch. Marshall’s first thought was that Colson would love these. He grabs a couple of pairs, before he heads over to the sweaters. Marshall has noticed Colson has been wearing more sweaters as it gets colder. He finds a nice soft, thick sweater.

As he goes to find his daughters, something catches his eye.

It’s a black leather jacket with a pink panel on one sleeve and a red one on the other, and a big yellow poster looking panel, for the diesel theater on the back. It screamed Colson. Marshall grabs it, along with a sweater, and some warm socks he had already picked out.

His daughters notice the clothes but don’t say anything. Once home he sits down to wrap the gifts, excited to see Colson’s face when he opens them.

******

A few days before Christmas, Marshall is over at Colson’s apartment, trading off on which movie is next. Colson sings along to all the songs in White Christmas, which Marshall finds adorable. They are snacking on some homemade sugar cookies, and hot cocoa Colson made. As Marshal looks around the apartment, he notices all the cute decorations. The apartment is small but homey. Colson has a small Christmas tree overflowing with a miss mass of ornaments, there is garland hanging under his tv, and he even has a sprig of mistletoe hanging near the doorway. He can’t help but think what it would be like to catch Colson under the mistletoe.

“Hey, want to exchange gifts?” the blond asks.

Marshall notices that the movie is over and the credits are now rolling. He had zoned out thinking out kissing the pretty artist, on the couch next to him.

“Sure, that sounds great.”

Colson gets up, and goes over to his tree, and picks up a box with blue paper, and snowflakes all over it. Marshall does the same but grabs two boxes with red and white stripes on them.

Once back on the couch, Marshall hands over his boxes. “You go first.”

Colson shrugs, lifting the first box, rips the paper off, and lifts the lid. Inside are some warm looking socks and a very nice sweater. “Oh, man thanks. This is so perfect.” Colson takes off the sweater he was wearing and slides the new one on, giving Marshall a bit of a show. “It’s so warm, and soft, and so are these socks” he says as he wraps his arms around himself.

“I’m glad you like it, but don’t forget you have another box.”

Colson goes for the second box, much like the first, rips the paper off, lifts the lid, but then freezes. He slowly lifts the jackets out of the box, looking between it and Marshall.

“How did you Know?”

Marshall rubs the back of his head. “I didn’t. I just saw it and thought of you.”

Colson gets up to try the jacket on, and it fits perfectly. He pins around and shows it off to Marshall, happy that his gift is such a success. Colson then goes in for a hug, wrapping his arms around the older man. “Thank you. I love my gifts.” Marshall returns the hug and they stay there for a moment before breaking apart. Colson slides the jacket off, folding it neatly, and placing it back in the box and setting both of his boxes on the coffee table.

“Your turn.” Colson says as he hands him a box.

Marshall removes the paper to see a box with the MGK on it. He looked questioningly over at the artist.

“My friends helped me make the box.”

Marshall opens the box and is greeted with some custom Nike Air Max 90’s. He picks one up to get a better look.

“Damn, these are nice. Where did you get these?”

“I… uh… customized them myself.”

“These are dope. Thank you Colson.”

Marshall snaps a few pictures, then tries them on. They fit perfectly. He models them for Colson, like the younger man did with his sweater and jacket.

“I’m glad you like them.”

They clean up the wrapping, and settle back down for another move. The next movie they watch is Marshall’s choice and he chooses Krampus. Colson has told him about the German folklore, and he thinks the movie is fun, he didn’t realize that the blond can’t handle horror movies. The more they watch, the closer Colson scoots to him. About 30 minutes in he is flush against Marshall’s side, with his feet tuct to the side. Marshall puts his arm around him. They sit like this for most of the movie, with Colson sometimes hiding his face in Marshall’s shoulder.

The credits begin to roll, Marshall looks at Colson, who has his face buried in his shoulder. He takes a moment to appreciate having the comic artist so close.

“Hey, the movies over. You can look.”

Colson raises his head, looking the older man in the eye, their lips only a few inches apart. Marshall’s breath hitches, Colson looks like a dream. His face is flush from hiding it, his eyes have a watery sheen to them, and his lips are red and slightly swollen, probably from him biting them. Marshall can’t help himself. He leans forward, sealing their lips together. Colson returns the kiss immediately. They move and shift, continuing their kiss.

Marshall’s is now leaning against the armrest, one hand tangling in the blond’s hair, the other resting on his waist. Colson’s hands are grabbing the rapper's shirt tightly, as he practically lays on Marshall’s chest.

When they finally break apart, both are gasping for breath. Marshall looks down, cracks a smile, and chuckles. Colson looks at him quizzically.

“If I had known that would have been your response, I would have kissed you the day we met.”

“You ignored me the day we met. Remember?” Colson snickers. “But yeah. I wish we had done that sooner.”

They share another kiss. This one is sweeter, and shorter than the previous one. Once they have pulled back Colson asks, “So where do we go from here?”

“Depends. What do you want?”

“I don’t want this to be a one night stand, or a friends’ with benefits, or anything like that.”

“Same here. I would really like to try dating you Colson. Would you be okay with that?”

“Are you asking me out?” Colson asks with a grin.

Marshall sighs deeply, knowing what he is getting into, but still replies. “Yes, I am asking you out.”

“Good. The answer is yes by the way. I would love to go on another date with you.”

“Another?”

“Yeah, I’m counting this one as our first.”

“Good idea.”

Marshall grabs the controller and selects Klaus as their next movie. They share a few more kisses, then Colson lays his head back down on Marshall’s chest, and the older man starts to run his fingers through his hair.

The two sit there for a while, before Colson speaks again.

“Hey, Marshall?”

“Hmm.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, to you too, Colson.”

The shoes

#emgk #Comic Artist Kelly AU

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akaluan · 4 years

Note

Ooooh, for the ask meme - let's see. Erich/Kisuke, 51, 100.

(51: accidentally married, 100: accidentally saving the day)

Erich’s day starts off normally enough, except for the fact that he has to spend time sorting through the mess that his grandson has made of the Quincy supplies. He needs specific tools and books to continue his education of Uryuu and Kurosaki, but Ryuuken has thrown everything into one cramped room and locked the door behind him.

Armor and books and bows are shoved willy-nilly into a space much too small, with ginto and seelie schneider and random ancient Quincy relics scattered about without rhyme or reason. It’s a mess, and a hazard, and Erich really wants to have words with his grandson about the proper care and storage of an entire people’s worth of supplies.

Even worse, Urahara decided to tag along; Erich hadn’t thought it much of an issue at first – he’d thought it would be a quick sweep to find the things he needed – but now… now he was regretting letting Urahara into the room with him. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the relics had been stored properly, but they weren’t, and relics were notoriously finicky even when properly cared for, and these weren’t, and Urahara was a curious man at heart–

“This is certainly pretty,” Urahara announced, something jingling as he pulled it free of the clutter. “Impractical, but pretty. Hey, Rerugen-san, what’s this one?”

Erich sighed and straightened up, turning to see what Urahara had unearthed this time. “Wh–put that down!” His heart sank at the sight of the interlinked bracelets in Urahara’s hand and a sense of dread settled in his stomach.

(What were traditional marriage bracelets doing laying loose amongst everything else?!)

(He was going to have words with Ryuuken after this!)

“Maa, what’s so dangerous about a couple of bracelets?” Urahara asked as he lifted his arm higher, the movement making the bracelets chime with a high, clear sound.

“Those aren’t normal bracelets–”

“Well, no, they certainly can’t be worn, can they?” Urahara peered at the relic, running a thumb over the part in his hand, likely in an attempt to find the catch that Erich knew wouldn’t exist. “So what do they do?”

“They’re marriage bracelets.” He didn’t know the specifics, and that terrified him. The Quincy had so many marriage bracelets, each with their own purpose and rules, that it was impossible for Erich to recognize any of them on sight.

“Eh?” Urahara gave Erich a puzzled look and jingled the interlinked bracelets again. “I thought you were supposed to be able to wear anything related to marriage, and these aren’t very wearable, are they?”

Erich ignored Urahara’s question and lunged, aiming to grab Urahara’s wrist so he could force the man to let go before something unfortunate happened. But Urahara leaned back. Lifted his arm higher. Gave Erich a smug little smile and–

Erich’s hand closed over the free bracelet, and he had just long enough to stare in resignation before the relic yanked on his reiatsu and light flared out to engulf the both of them. The metal in his hand dissolved and a band settled around his left arm, its presence terrible and familiar and infuriating in all the worst ways.

(Married to a damn Shinigami of all things!)

(God damnit!)

He staggered back and rubbed the spots from his eyes, hands trembling in reaction and rage, and took a steadying breath. Another. Unbuttoned the left sleeve of his dress shirt and rolled it up–

The metal band sat against the skin of his wrist, one edge gleaming green like his own reiatsu and the other gleaming red like Urahara’s. He could feel the minor draw on his strength, feel the strange press of unfamiliar power against his soul–

He shoved at the band. Slid it effortlessly up to his elbow before it refused to move further. Grabbed it tight and slammed it back down his arm, wincing at the way it jarred against his wrist–

(He hadn’t expected otherwise but… fuck!)

(Married to a god damn Shinigami!)

“Woah, hey, I don’t think hurting yourself is warranted,” Urahara said as he caught Erich’s right wrist and pulled his hand away from the bracelet.

Erich ripped his hand free and stepped back, chin rising and scathing, vicious words crawling up his throat–

Nothing came out. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t shout his fury aloud, couldn’t even step closer or raise his hand. His body was frozen, the bracelet warming against his skin–

“Rerugen-san?” Urahara murmured, concerned-worried-troubled and the incongruity of it… hurt.

Erich took a step back, relieved that the bracelet’s control allowed him that freedom. Rage burned hot-sour-cloying in his chest but he breathed through it, tamping down his fury and turning his gaze to an open box of armor pieces.

(He’d almost– if the bracelet hadn’t–)

(He’d never been an abusive man or given to rage. For the bracelet to label his reactions violent enough to violate it’s anti-abuse clause…)

He swallowed back bile and turned away, shivering as the enforced control faded from his limbs. “Help me find the book on marriage bracelets. It should be somewhere in this damn mess.”

“Of course.”

Erich very carefully refused to look at Urahara as they dug through the boxes, even when the man paused to hand him potential books for him to flip through. It felt like an age passed before they find the book he needed, and the minute they did he gestured sharply for Urahara to follow and left the room; he’d not found what he needed for the teens, but the bracelet issue overrode that.

(He wanted it off!)

Urahara trailed after him, silent the whole way back to the Shoten except for a murmured ‘you can use my lab if you want’ that Erich barely acknowledged in favor of retreating to the room Urahara had given him. He needed to find what type of marriage bracelet they had accidentally triggered, which would tell him how to remove it and what its conditions and clauses were.

Anti-abuse was common to all Quincy marriage bracelets, but there were so many other clauses that could be applied, and so many ways for a marriage to be considered ‘permanent’…

He didn’t want to risk anything.

Erich studied the book, barely acknowledging Urahara whenever the man knocked to check in on him. He was too busy, too on edge, to exercise more than absent politeness.

(He didn’t like what he was finding. Didn’t like the suggestion that he was currently wearing a peace-marriage bracelet, only breakable by actions that neither of them could do.)

(They had no clan elders to declare the marriage dissolved, and the only other way out was for one of them to attack a member of the other’s Clan with intent to kill and that…)

(Erich refused to offer that up as a suggestion.)

Urahara’s reiatsu trickled through the bracelet and into his soul the whole while, an enforced connection that let him sense the man’s emotions more clearly than he’d ever before managed. It wasn’t an unknown sensation – he and Alexis had been married the traditional way, after all – but it was an unfamiliar one; it had been decades since his own marriage broke with death, and the presence of another person’s power tucked against his soul was disorienting.

Worse, it meant he couldn’t continue to properly hide his reactions from Urahara; with such a direct connection between them, suppressing his reiatsu was worthless, and Erich knew of no healthy way to scrub emotional impressions from his reiryoku. He didn’t know how skilled Urahara was in reading reiatsu but he suspected ‘very’ as the answer, which left his only available option being deliberate emotional focus in order to drown out responses that he didn’t want Urahara to sense.

Which only made things worse.

(It was one thing to stand before a person and connect words and deeds with emotions. It was another entirely to sense things out context.)

Part of him wanted to give in to the inevitable, to accept that there was no way out except to make peace with his fate. Part of him despised the very idea of it, despised that he would even consider it, and the tangle left him sick with nerves and self-loathing.

(Some nights he threw the book aside, drowning his helplessness with rage.)

(Some nights he dug his nails into his skin. Tried to pry the bracelet from his arm. Didn’t notice the blood until Urahara knelt before him and gently-gently-gently coaxed him down, pressing a healing kido into his wounded arm.)

(Those nights were the worst, were the times when he wanted to give in so badly that it ached like a broken bone and when he drowned that longing for comfort in the self-loathing that burned like bile at the weakness he was displaying.)

Urahara’s actions didn’t help. The man was careful and cautious and helpful at every turn. He never pushed, never teased, never touched him and–

Erich missed the casual contact more than he expected.

(He was so weak!)

The onset of war was almost a relief.

(Coward!)

Erich strode into battle with Urahara at his side, the marriage bracelet meaning the two of them couldn’t part ways like he almost wished they could. But fighting alongside Kisuke was… easy, his emotions settling for the first time in weeks and the cold chill of war-death-kill taking their place.

He felt a brief flicker of hope at seeing Quincy standing across from him; if he held back, let Urahara strike the first blow, then surely, surely the bracelet would register it as attack against his Clan, but…

Erich saw the moment when one of their foes caught sight of the bracelet on Urahara’s wrist. Saw the moment the man’s gaze swung to him with a sneer, spitting ‘traitor’ and ‘whore’ and ‘worthless’ in his face.

Ice settled in his chest.

(Peace-marriages were sacred things.)

(They didn’t know it was accidental, didn’t know that Erich was futilely searching for a way out.)

(To deny the meaning, to throw it back in his face like that–)

(These were no Quincy no matter what they proclaimed.)

He carved through the enemy army without remorse, Urahara at his side. Followed the traces of Quincy through the distorted Seireitei. Found one of the only tolerable Shinigami staring at the sky, shadows twisting across his body and–

Erich yanked at Urahara’s strength through the bracelet. Reached out and severed whatever technique Ukitake was building.

“Leave him to me,” Erich told Ukitake coldly. “Don’t throw your life away for something so meaningless.”

“He’s going to–”

“I know.”

He didn’t wait for Ukitake to respond, just turned his attention to path he could feel carved through the ether. It was closing in Yhwach’s wake, slowly but surely, but there was enough of a gap left–

“Don’t let go,” he ordered Urahara as he dragged the man closer, fingers digging into Urahara’s bicep as he latched onto Urahara’s strength again and pulled–

He launched them up-up-up, seele schneider in his hand and Urahara’s strength bolstering his own. He carved through the healing defenses. Harnessed that freed power and used it to send them higher and–

They landed in the Soul King’s Palace with a thump, and Erich immediately absorbed free reishi to replenish his stores. Sent more down the connection to replenish Urahara’s stores. Ignored the man’s curious noise and strode forward, following the traces of Yhwach on, ever on.

(This shame of the Quincy fell to him to correct.)

(He could no longer stand aside. Would no longer stand aside.)

The remains of the palace guards fell before him; he no longer had the patience or the time to deal with them diplomatically. Whether they survived or not was not his concern.

(He could feel Urahara’s twisting emotions, concern-curiosity-determination tangled into an unwavering knot.)

(He had no time to deal with that, either.)

Yhwach greeted them in the throne room, standing before the strange, idol-like figure. He turned, lips shaping a name that died before he could give it voice, and swept his gaze over the two of them, the tiniest hint of surprise visible in his expression.

“How fascinating. I’d not expected the two of you to greet me,” Yhwach mused. “But that’s neither here nor there. Dealing with you won’t be–”

Erich launched himself forward, seele schneider in one hand and revolver materializing in the other. He slashed at Yhwach’s neck and–

Froze.

His body turned towards the idol against his will, sword raising to strike.

He struggled to control his actions, struggled to reclaim his agency, clawed desperately at whatever outside force was forcing his hand. The bracelet warmed against his skin, forcing his body into stillness, and he once more yanked at Urahara’s strength. Threw everything he had behind the bracelet. Bit his lip as the metal heated and his skin burned and everything narrowed down to resist-resist-resist–

Yhwach snarled. “Paltry treasures like that won’t avert your fate. I am the source of your strength, the Father of all Quincy, and your will is mine!”

Something snapped in his mind–

A sword protruded from Yhwach’s chest.

Metal clattered against the stone floor.

Erich staggered. Spun. Drove his seele schneider through Yhwach’s head and ripped–

Yhwach howled. Clawed at reality with his powers, trying to unmake it all.

Erich dragged the seele schneider down. Tore through Yhwach’s core and ripped at the severed power. Absorbed some and scattered more and felt something in his own soul come undone–

He staggered back. Held onto his weapons by instinct alone. Fell to his knees and curled forward, left arm aching and mind reeling. He felt dirty, felt used, betrayed by a legend and almost forced to betray his friends and family.

(The bracelet’s control had been one thing, freezing him in place and enforcing peace the only way it could.)

(Yhwach’s control was another, stealing his agency and turning him into a passenger in his own body.)

A hand settled on his shoulder. Pulled him over–

Erich snarled. Twisted. Lashed out–

Urahara caught his wrist in a gentle hold. “It’s alright. He’s dead. We’re safe.”

Erich stared blankly at Urahara as the man pressed healing kido into his left arm. Felt for the man’s presence against his soul and found… nothing.

He was alone. Empty.

(Waking up in a strange place, Alexis missing from his awareness.)

(Alone for the first time in decades.)

(Alone-alone-alone…)

His eyes found the bracelet on the floor, metal darkened from heat and color fading away. Flickered over to Urahara, wondering if… but no, Urahara seemed unconcerned, unbothered by the change.

(Just like he should be.)

(This was what he’d wanted.)

(This was what he’d wanted!)

“Hey, you alright?” Urahara asked softly, pale eyes concerned as he let his kido die and cradled Erich’s hand gently in his own.

It was too much. He wanted too much. Wanted Urahara to do… something, anything, to make him forget the sour taste of fear and the terrifying helplessness of Yhwach’s control–

Erich took a breath. Shook his head. Pulled away from Urahara and stood, letting his revolver fade and sealing the seele schneider once more.

“Let’s get out of here,” Erich muttered as he scowled at the damaged bracelet and the pile of ash where Yhwach once stood. He turned away. Left it lying there.

(He didn’t need a reminder. Didn’t need the evidence of his failures.)

Urahara flickered away. Returned to Erich’s side. Smiled soft-kind-proud and said, “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go home.”

Erich swallowed against the knot in his throat. Rubbed at the smooth patch of skin where the bracelet had sat. Kept his reiatsu carefully tucked away even as he desperately wanted to reach out to Urahara to fill the cold emptiness in his soul.

(Home?)

(Was the Shoten home…?)

(He didn’t know.)

He strode from the throne room without looking back.

(He’d deal with it later.)

(For now he just wanted to be somewhere safe where he could lick his wounds in peace.)

(Everything else could come later.)

#bleach #erich/kisuke #bleach/tanya #hamelin-born whyyyyyy #but i really want to write this as a full fic now #hamelin-born #replies #holy shit this is so long #i'm so sorry #but also i'm really not #this is definitely getting a full story #because there's an entire other section after this ending #where things settle out and these two fools admit they're in Actual Love #the fools

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clericbyers · 5 years

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re: the christmas headcanon. we need mike asking his mom really awkwardly about what kind of gift you should give to a person you really like and she gives him some ideas while trying to be supportive mom and not ask him about who his crush is but then she sees that mike got all these gifts she suggested to will and it suddenly all makes sense

“Hey, Mom.”

Karen looks up from her magazine and gives Mike a raised eyebrow. “Yes, Mike?”

“I need your help with something,” Mike starts, a little fidgety as stands behind the couch. “I, um, I want to know what kind of gift you should give someone you really, uh, well, like.”

“Someone you really like?” Karen perks. She had no idea Mike had a crush on anyone and there’s a little buzz of excitement in her that her son is growing up and getting gifts for someone he has a crush on. “It depends on who the person is, Mike.”

“Ah, I just want general ideas! General ideas.” he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “You know, something to hammer in the fact.”

“Oh,” she puts down her magazine with a hum. “Well, little trinkets like bracelets, rings, and necklaces go a long way. It’s wearable memorabilia that can symbolize your affection for the other person in a physical way that the two of you can understand.”

Mike nods and shuffles on his feet. “Okay. Yeah, okay. That works.”

“Flowers are always a staple.”

“I don’t want to be cheesy about it. Just want to show that I care.”

Karen sighs inwardly; this would be a lot easier if she knew who Mike has a crush on. Generic gifts are great but the point is buying something that is unique to the person themselves, something the other person likes as that is as much showing care and love when the gift isn’t generic but focused and purposeful. She cocks her head to the side and then smiles. “Promise rings in particular are a great gift.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s kind of...that’s still very commitment heavy.”

“Is that too much for who you like?”

“No,” Mike chuckles to himself and his eyes go a little glazed as he thinks about whoever he wants to buy the gift for. “Not at all.” He clears his throat and shoots Karen a grin. “Thanks, mom. I’m gonna go out with Lucas and buy some gifts for El, Max, and Will later so while we’re out I figured I could try to get something for, uh, someone special.”

“That’s adorable,” Karen cooes and Mike blushes a bit and rolls his eyes as he walks to the door.

“Yeah, sure.” Mike sends Karen a small wave as he heads out. “I’ll be back in a few.”

Karen nods and watches the door for a moment longer after Mike closes it before picking up her magazine and continuing where she left off. Part of her is very curious about who Mike’s got his sights on, but it’s not really any of her business so she won’t snoop any further. As the next week unfolds and Mike comes back from outings with this friends toting bags of gifts, Karen gets a glimpse into the items he’s bought for everyone in preparation for the Christmas reunion. He asks for Nancy’s help with wrapping one day and Karen watching them sit on the living room floor bickering about which box to put the fancy artist pencils in and which colored paper to use for the bigger box with Lucas’ gifts inside. Holly sits next to Mike and keeps trying to unravel his carefully crafted ribbon bows. Karen feels her heart warm watching her children working together and she holds her tea mug to her lips in order to hid it as best she can.

It’s on the last day of gift wrapping, the night before the Byers are meant to come back to Hawkins, that Karen finally gets a hint about who Mike wanted to get the special gift for. She comes downstairs in the dark to get a cup of water and spots Mike by the lit Christmas tree reordering presents as he hums a Bowie song under his breath. She takes a moment to watch how he arranges the boxes, and then spots something like a jewelry box next to his feet. Mike grabs the box and opens it slowly, eyes hooded over as a soft smile drapes on his lips. Karen smiles, too; she’s glad to see that he got the promise rings as she suggested and she’s super excited to see how it all plays out. Mike grabs one of the gift bags labeled “Will” on the tag--it’s a bag filled with some small art supplies Karen helped Mike pick out when he got confused about quality differences--and plops the small box in with a heavy sigh, his cheeks a little pinker despite the colorful lights highlighting his face.

Karen raises both her eyebrows at that but then she smiles to herself and shakes her head. Of course it was for Will. Karen should have known as soon as Mike said the level of commitment a promise ring contains wasn’t too much for who he liked. She clears her throat and Mike whips around with wide eyes and quickly stands up as he babbles. “Mike,” she interrupts with a widening grin, “it’s okay. He’s gonna like it.”

Mike blinks a few times and then looks back at the bag. “I, uh...it’s not...I mean, it’s just...,” he deflates a little and then shrugs. “I guess I just want him to know before he leaves again.”

“He’ll always know,” she replies softly as she makes her way to her son. “But, as I said, wearable memorabilia is a great symbol.”

And later the next day after presents have been opened and the kids are all sitting in the living room playing with what they’ve given each other, Karen stands in the back chatting with Joyce, Dustin, and Lucas’ mothers. Her mouth is moving but her mind isn’t concentrated on her words as her eyes wander to Mike and Will sitting close together whispering as Will tests out his new pencils. There’s a glint of silver coming off Will’s left hand and Karen catches Mike’s wandering gaze when he looks up for a moment. She winks at him, grinning more when Mike blinks, flushes, and turns back to Will. Will who’s watching Mike with a softness in his eyes that Karen is always going to be grateful to see.

#uhhhh so soft #mike is SO SOFT FOR WILL!!#yams writes #anon #yams answers

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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S/S 2020 Fashion Month: A Basic, Uneducated Fashion Heaux’s A-Z of Everything Noteworthy (Part 2/3)

Hi to anyone reading,

Back at it again with the giving my unsolicited opinion on 2020′s spring/summer offering, I’m gonna hop straight into part 2 of my fashion month review!

Sorry to start with an underwhelming few but my compulsive tendencies are making it really hard to break out of this alphabetical structure (cry laughs whilst thinking about how long it took me to face up at my retail job last night because it would give me vaguely homicidal urges and make my fingers tingle every time a customer moved something slightly out of line), so I’m gonna whizz through a handful of collections. First up, Halpern:

Not much to say but I’m envious of the heavy liner (my hooded eyes could never) and I like the colour scheme. As for the 80s style metallic pink dress?

Helmut Lang:

And Hermes:

Of these 3 collections, Hermes is definitely the most interesting. I like the colour scheme and the utilitarian shapes and the tan coloured jackets are an absolute shoot. This is how you make safari look fresh, D&G take note.

Isabel Marant was okay. It’s cute, sure, reminds me of something Mary-Kate and Ashley would’ve come out with/worn in the 2000s, and there’s definitely some things I would wear, but I wouldn’t say it looks all that luxury. Pricey, sure, but like, Free People pricey, not designer pricey. As a collection, it’s not all that conceptual, unless the concept is L.A girl does a Starbucks run after her bikram yoga class. What I will say though is that some of the S/S 2020 commercial trends are becoming clear: white cheesecloth pieces, peasant blouses, cowboy boots, scrappy sandals, neutral tones, and bandana print.

Now onto the darling of high fashion Twitter: Jacquemus.

As far as presentation goes, this has to be one of my favourite set-ups of the season; a hot pink runway running through a lavender meadow is as canny and serene as those who sing the praises of Simon Porte Jacquemus would have you expect, and the clothes were easy, breezy and beautiful, even if there is an element of getting dressed in the dark going on with the styling which put me off including a few otherwise gorgeous pieces. It might not be 100% my style but you can tell this is a brand of the future which is only going to go from strength to strength.

And everything was beautifully and purposefully crafted on the runway with J.W Anderson this year. The pieces are graceful and timeless whilst still easy to envision as something a modern woman would throw on to (very fashionably) run some errands in the city. This was also one of the handful of shows (IIRC! This might be a case of extreme deja-vu!) where we saw the sandal straps tied over the trousers, I’m guessing to accentuate the ankles, and...I’m surprisingly here for it? Though in a sense it kinda resembles when I accidentally get my work trousers tucked into my slipper socks, it’s an interesting touch and adds a bit of a shape to otherwise billowing bottom halves.

Following Jacquemus’ lead (or vice versa, I’m way too deep into this fashion month haze to work out who went first at this point), Lacoste also put on a co-ed show. Otherwise crisp and preppy as per, the neckerchiefs (even if seeing them all next to one another does give off a bit of a Disneyland Main Street barbershop quartet vibe) and vinyl/wet-look/PVC/I’m still not sure what differentiates the 3 coats were an out of the box touch for them and I really liked it. It’s athleisure, but more like something Hayley Bieber would’ve worn as part of her Princess Diana inspired shoot than anything I’d wear to the gym.

LMAO, as if I go the gym. But you get my point. Next, Loewe:

Delicate, feminine and all around delightful, the S/S 2020 Loewe collection is up there with Chloe and Brock when it comes to most spring appropriate. More chiffon, lace and doily-like detailing, please, the old woman in me lives for this kinda thing made fashionable. Like with J.W Anderson, you can tell the design team wanted to do something different without just throwing shit onto their pieces for the sake of being wacky, and so we end up with these dramatic, slightly geometric waistlines and almost angelic Victorian nightgown inspired dresses that kinda make me wished that 1). ghosts existed and that 2). I lived back in that era so I could die some tragic death wearing any one of the dresses on the left in the top 3 rows and then haunt the shit out of everyone. That would really be an iconic fashion moment. Also wonderful, imo, was Louis Vuitton:

The mix between 60s and Edwardian I never knew I needed, as opposed to Gucci’s forward thinking take on the former decade, Louis Vuitton takes it back even further and throws in late 19th/early 20th century structures and references. I adore the what seems to be a mix between brocade and paisley print and the exaggerated collars are a very cute touch. The jacket on the top left is a highlight, a more neutral version of the similar catsuit seen at the Longchamp show (I couldn’t personally pick enough highlights from that to include it), and I now more than ever really want to try and pull off a sweater vest. The shoes might not be the most exciting thing ever but they’re also a personal favourite, from the knee high boots to the loafers with the LV moniker.

Maison Margiela was very cool and again, I’m in love with the shoes and just the accessories in general, ESPECIALLY those hats. I don’t know if I’m way off base here but this show is almost a modernised, fashionable version of a 1940s period drama about WW2 pilots and evacuees. Yes, maybe I am just getting that solely from the trench coats and the naval influences and the exaggerated collars but I think with that list I made quite a case for that perspective, right? Right.

And completing this holy trinity (appropriating the term I usually reserve for Emma Watson, Emma Stone and Emma Roberts is not without careful consideration) is Marc Jacobs. One of my ultimate favourites of this season, this collection is absolutely EVERYTHING: kitschy, dream-like, whimsical, over-the-top, and totally appropriate for your slightly eccentric aunt who always drinks too much wine and talks a lot of shit every time she comes over for dinner. I really feel like I walked into wonderland looking at this collection, and in the best way possible, it gives me a female Russell Brand in the 2000s’ wardrobe on crack. On the one hand we have these insanely beautiful and ethereal chiffon floral dresses but then we also have fricken top hats. Basically, it’s everything I love about fashion and I don’t know if anything can top it. Periodt (and I type that with a totally straight face).

Next, onto another personal fave, Marchesa:

Which is as always, beautiful. I was going to write that if Disney princesses came to life and lived in the modern world (so, in other words, Elle Fanning), they would be wearing Marchesa and then I remembered that the film Enchanted exists and had a lightbulb moment and thought OH MY GOD IF THEY REMADE THAT IN 2019, THE DRESS ON THE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE ROW WOULD BE A PERFECT LEVELLING UP OF THE CURTAIN DRESS.

Anyways, favourites of the favourites are the bottom row; I would die for that feather trim.

BUT where Marchesa is everything opulent, overly ornate and err-ing on “fussy”, Margaret Howell’s S/S 2020 collection is completely stripped back and just as effective, if not as to my taste. Very cool, very current, and altogether effortless (in a good way!), with this show Margaret Howell made mid-20th century utilitarianism relevant. I never thought I’d be praising the combination of bermuda shorts, crew socks and a beanie and yet here I am. Character development.

Next is Marine Serre:

Which I really like! The bottom row isn’t really to my personal taste but I can acknowledge that if I saw somebody wearing any one of those outfits I’d think they looked sick, and as for the first two rows, those mesh tops and the slightly chintzy florals are right up my alley.

Marques Almeida put out a really strong collection, imo. The blending of luxurious silhouettes and fabrics with street wear inspired prints and styling is a really interesting and unique contrast and if Billie Eilish ever decided to stop wearing those tweenie clothes and wanted to actually seduce somebody’s dad (I LOVE BILLIE EILISH AND I KNOW WHY SHE DRESSES THE WAY SHE DOES, IT’S A JOKE, PLS DON’T HATE ME), I’d love to see her wearing something like this. It’s a blend of punk, urban, and 2019 e-girl and has the kind of edge that Topshop has lost over the past couple of years that used to make it so aspirational to my 13 year old self. Of all the shows, it also probably has the most personally wearable accessories, and a shit tonne of cool make up looks I’d love to try if it weren’t for my lack of visible eyelid, lol.

Make up looks were a highlight of the Max Mara show too, for me anyway.

I otherwise wasn’t hugely keen on the collection, it being a little too matronly/Miss.Trunchbull-esque for my liking (wild card fashion inspiration of 2019, apparently?). The light paisley print dresses are very dreamy, though, and I can never resist a good suit.

As for Michael Kors, dare I say it, but the basic bitch in me loved it. I know as a designer he’s not held in very high regard by the fashion community and I'm not saying it’s at all original but it did what it set out to do well; I mean, it’s quite fitting that he cameo-d in an episode of Gossip Girl because every outfit would be perfect for the Constance attending incarnation of Blair Waldorf, which is probably why I like the collection. Like yeah, it’s a bit of a Polo Ralph Lauren/Lacoste rip off but it’s daintier and more feminine and so I’m not gonna lie, I’m on board with it.

Next, Miu Miu.

One of the collections I was most excited for, I was a little disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the collection, but I have never once disliked anything Miu Miu and I usually love it. There are things I love about this line too: the cream, floral lace-up boots, the off-the-shoulder cardigans, the houndstooth oversized coats and of course the fur-lined gilets. My mum used to buy me similar ones when I was a little girl and so they give me childhood nostalgia in the best way possible. I mean, the collection is as girly and eccentric as ever. I think it’s just a little too on the primary school librarian side for me, this time round. Sorry Miu Miu xoxo

Now I’m just gonna speed through a couple, starting with MM6 Maison Margiela, the younger sister to the more expensive regular Maison Margiela line:

And Monique Lhuillier:

So that I can get to one of my other ultimate favourite collections for S/S 2020: Moschino.

Oh my god, where to even start. Firstly, I might be reaching, but if this show is even remotely to thank for art nouveau mesh tops showing up in the Urban Outfitters new in section, then a very sarcastic thank you to Jeremy Scott. You just made ethical shopping a lot harder. HOW am I supposed to not buy an Alphonse Mucha top? HOW!? I mean, I’m sure I’ll manage (I’m on month 3 without a shopping spree I can’t actually afford now and yes, I am very much patting myself on the back), but HOW!?

But on a serious level, if renaissance was the print of 2019, which I’m still very much into BTW, bring on modern art as its 2020 replacement. The Pablo Picasso inspired show not only livened up a generally pretty predictable fashion month but it’s also got me searching up other times art has met fashion on the runway and thrown me down a particularly aesthetically pleasing wormhole I’m not sure I ever want to escape from (https://frontrowmagazine.ca/art-inspired-looks-were-all-over-the-runways-of-fashion-week-a74e8bc7ff0d and https://www.vogue.com/article/spring-2017-ready-to-wear-fine-arts-trends are good starting points!).

Mugler was also up there with the best of them, imo:

See, if the Moschino collection was all about dabbling in art class, Mugler’s S/S 2020 collection is its more mathematically inclined sister, all about sharp lines and deconstructed silhouettes and symmetry all whilst looking hot as fuck. So very Mugler, basically.

Now, this reference might be slightly off because I haven’t actually SEEN Ex-Machina yet but I imagine if Kim Kardashian were to channel that movie for a costume party she’d end up wearing something from this collection. That sounds like a roast because Kim has worn some questionable outfits but I blame Kanye for most of that and I’m referring to her on a good fashion day, alright!?

As for Off-White, it’s obviously a lot more commercial than most of the lines I’ve reviewed so far. Like, I can see a lot of these outfits on a mannequin in Urban Outfitters (no, I am not being paid to namedrop them, about 3 people in total read this Tumblr so any kind of sponsorship money would be severely wasted on me). That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and I love all of these looks; it just seems unfair to compare them to the the Mugler or Moschino collections, for example.

The stand outs for me are all on the bottom row: I would buy the utility vest, leather blazer and the all mesh turtleneck under washed-out tie-dye on the spot if I saw them in a high street store. Unfortunately, I feel like that’s kinda where they belong. You just expect collections to be a bit more conceptual, and this one is a little watered down, as much as it’s my style.

Oscar de la Renta was beautiful, of course. Not like I’m shook by how beautiful it is but kinda just what you’d expect from a brand with a name as poetic and fun to say as Oscar de la Renta. The silhouettes are dreamy and the details are as fit for a fairy princess (lmao) as ever. Plus can I just say how happy I am to see butterflies on dresses for adult women again!? And dresses worn by Blanca Padilla nonetheless!? Very here for it.

Next up is another on one of my fashion month highlights: Paco Rabanne.

LOOK AT THIS SHIT!

I mean, don’t get me wrong, something about this collection (I’m pretty sure it’s the knee high coloured socks) is giving me primary school teacher vibes, but I'm not mad about it. It’d be the kind of teacher who’s actually really good at their job and has loads of cool hobbies and a really hot boyfriend or girlfriend or wife or husband who you secretly want to be then you grow up/and or have a huge crush on.

Like with Marc Jacobs, there’s obvious flower child elements here, and whilst on the whole the former took my breath away slightly more, this is a lot more wearable. My favourites are the paisley print dress and cape on the left in the very bottom row and all the chainmail pieces (which remind me of the dress Naomi Smalls wore in that whole club ninety-sixxxxx skit on drag race), plus that floral cut out dress with the trailing flute sleeves, which is absolute PERFECTION.

The 70s influence was clear in Peter Pilotto’s S/S 2020 collection too from the abundance of tie-dye to the knit v-neck dress, zany colour and print being the very on-brand focus. That being said, this is definitely more of a street-style inspired collection than usual and whilst the floral suits and dresses on the 3rd row down are very typical Peter Pilotto, the tie-dye corset and combat trousers on the far right, second row from the bottom, are very Jaded London. As for the reoccurrence of the bucket hat, I’ve remained steadfastly against them for several years now (even when our Lord and Saviour Miss Robyn Rihanna Fenty started wearing them) but the way they’re done in this collection even I could definitely get behind; all in all, the show surpassed my expectations.

The same goes for Ports 1961, which was a lot more eccentric than I gathered is the norm from a few google searches. Honestly, I hadn’t really heard of the brand which, upon reading up on it, I feel very dumb for considering it has been around since (in the shock twist of the century) 1961.

Yes, I know how that sounds! But forgive me, I’m still learning:)

Anyway, the fishnet detailing alone pretty much sold the looks I picked out. Seriously, I got a pair of those bloody tights, like, 2 years ago when they became a thing again and now any outfit where I have my legs out feels incomplete without them.

Next is Prabal Gurung, which, as far as presentation goes, was fucking STUNNING:

I mean, you could say that I’m easily impressed and that the presence of the bouquets won me over (and you’d definitely have a point there), but it’s also this year’s Givenchy haute couture-esque feathers, the trailing pearl necklaces, the exaggerated shoulders, the dreamy colouring, the everything looking like it could’ve grown off a very fashionably-inclined tree. Like, there’s a lot to love here, from the naturalistic elements, to the context behind the show, an ode to American fashion history and those cast out of it (and the notion of “being American” in general) for so long.

Going from a high to a (personal) low, however, next we have Prada:

I don’t know, I get that it’s supposed to be simple and stripped back and dignified and whatever and I like the looks I picked but it’s just a bit blah for me. The bonnets that kept cropping up just didn’t do it for me and almost ruined what is an otherwise nice skirt suit (top right). Nonetheless, I like the silhouette of the sheer black dress and the the brocade print suit is really luxurious looking, even if the pattern is a *little* Wetherspoons carpet.

Anyways, here’s a quick overview of Rag and Bone:

So that I can stop moaning and get onto a collection I REALLY liked:

I am of course talking about Ralph and Russo. See, this is kinda what I expected from, like, Chanel and yet it’s Ralph and Russo that delivered. Also, it gives me Alessandra Rich vibes which is very much a compliment considering how much I love her designs. I mean, if Valley of the Dolls were to get another film remake in 2019, this is exactly what I’d like to see the female leads wearing, from the pastel suits to the satin kaftan style dresses. The yellow feather trimmed dress is practically a copy of something Marchesa has already done but it’s cute all the same. In my top 10 collections of the season, for sure.

Rick Owens was another strong collection; it goes without saying that it’s not the most wearable but that’s not really what Rick Owens is known for, so I wouldn’t expect anything else. If you want fashion on an alien planet, or something Lady Gaga would’ve worn in 2010, he's your man.

Next, Rodarte:

Obviously the dresses are beautiful and the set is magnificent, BUT...I’m really not a fan of the whole celebrities filling in for high fashion models thing. I like Lili Reinhart and I adore Kirsten Dunst, she’s been in a load of my favourite films, but in a similar vein to Dolce and Gabbana’s influencer show, it’s just distracting from the actual garments, if even worse because I don’t WANT to be distracted here (the same can’t be said for the D&G show, lol). If anybody has read this far, let me know your thoughts!

Roland Mouret was nice, and I always like a coed show, especially when a designer isn’t afraid to blur the lines of masculine and feminine. It’s fresh, lightweight and luxurious looking, Cannes film festival street style eat your heart out, and I love the colour palette.

Similarly, colour was my favourite thing about Sally LaPointe’s S/S 2020 collection.

I would never think that teal and burnt orange would work together, let alone in some kind of faux leather, and yet here we are. Orange is in itself always an interesting colour choice, perfect for the summer with a tan, and I really love monochrome outfits, even though they’re something that ends up being quite pricey to put together; slight differences in tone are okay but if you just randomly throw together a few things and they’re too off, it really doesn’t work and you’d have been better off wearing contrasting colours. For that reason, I’m just gonna admire that all-pink outfit from a distance.

As for Schiaparelli, it’s one I always look forwards to for the sheer weirdness. RTW isn’t quite as kooky as haute couture but still, the interesting choices are still there; what at first glance appears to be flame print is actually coils of hair, and paired with a water print suit is a sequinned jacket emblazoned with a paradisiacal mirage. Ornament-like facial decorations as seen in the over-exaggerated glasses worn with the pony hair suit are also one of my favourite new things to happen in the high fashion scene in the past couple of months and I can’t wait to see how they get watered down to become more approachable for us...regular, non-structurally blessed folks who can’t pull off anything and everything.

Simone Rocha was STUNNING. Romantic and ethereal, it’s druid goddess crossed with upper class Victorian woman of leisure, equal parts delicate and grungy, like a modern, fashion version of Lady Gaga’s Scathach in the Roanoke season of American Horror Story. You know, in the flashbacks, not in present day when she was all gross and like...scalping people and shit. Each dress is so ornate and has such an interesting structure, and the fabric choices give off an organic kinda vibe that create a handmade feel; the collection is, imo, really worthy of being shown under a haute couture heading. When it comes to my favourite element of the show, I’m torn between the petticoats and the hair accessories. I’m just gonna give a cop-out answer and say both.

Stella McCartney on the other hand, is very much a clear ready-to-wear collection.

It’s pretty, for sure. The pastel blazers paired with delicate white mesh tops underneath are a gorgeous combination for spring and I like the reoccurrence of the chain glasses (Gucci, right?). But I mean, when you go from Simone Rocha to this, it’s a bit anticlimactic. Plus, if I’m honest, kaftans are always going to remind me of Honey Mahogany from season 5 of Drag Race. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure she’s a lovely person but her runway looks aren’t really ones I look back fondly on, and you’re lying if you say you enjoyed them for anything other than meme purposes.

Temperley is equally meh, though the return of the Erdem-style boating hats is getting me excited that high street retailers might actually pick up on the trend and bring out some cheap ones for me to embarrass myself by wearing.

I also love a good 70s suit, the neckerchiefs are cute and there are some really delightful prints here that are a more unique approach to florals for spring.

Coming towards the end now, next is Thom Browne:

I LOVE this. Like, don’t get me wrong Rick Owens was cool but I adore how on the nose the concept is here; time to bring back all the Marie Antoinette puns I didn’t get to use in my Versailles Instagram post. I don’t know if it’s the history buff in me or the Sofia Coppola Stan but I will always be willing to sign any kind of treaty for anything related to the excesses of the 18th century French monarchy, and this is that turned up to 1000 infused with a dash of the Teletubbies, which sounds like a nightmarish concept, I know, but as high fashion it WORKS.

Tory Burch was very commercial, seemingly half inspired by Monterey yoga moms and the other half by Hamptons socialites.

And then there was Valentino, which was fucking exquisite, imo. LIKE, CALLING DOCLE & GABBANA: THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE TROPICAL PRINT INTERESTING. YOU MAKE THE VELVET MONKEY’S ARM THE FRICKEN WAISTBAND.

Seriously, though, I am enamoured with this colour palette; all the whites and golds are angelic and fr, I didn’t know until now that you could make neons this elegant. I’m also getting an almost clerical feel from a lot of these looks, with the plaited waistband on the black dress that’s 7th row down in the middle, the stunning red cape and the multitude of exaggerated neck ruffs. I think I’ve mentioned before but I always love religious references in clothing-I don’t think I’ll ever get over the 2018 Met Gala-and so whether I’m reading too much into it or not, this collection really did it for me.

Whilst it’s probably as far removed a collection from Valentino’s S/S 2020 contribution you can get, I also loved Vera Wang this season. It might purely (I PROMISE THIS IS MY LAST GOSSIP GIRL REFERENCE) be because it gives me Jenny Humphrey vibes and *controversial* she did have my favourite style of any of the main characters, but sue me, this is just the right amount of late 90s/early 2000s grunge. Deconstructed trashy goth it girl is an interesting concept to see on the runway and I completely support it.

Versace on the other hand was very hit or miss. The looks I picked out I really loved but ultimately, for one of the household name brands, a lot of the actual garments were a bit pedestrian. I will say though that for me, it’s a case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. The slicked back mermaid hair and the pops of colour in the makeup and the interesting necklines meant that when it was good, it was GOOD. However, overall, still a bit too 80s Miami businesswoman, and please GOD, can we leave that hideous J-Lo dress in the past, it should really not be the climax of the show in 20-fucking-19!

As for Victoria Beckham, I liked it, but it’s a bit of a Gucci copy, no? And no way near as interesting?

And on that note, I’m gonna have to cut this off. Super annoying but with only 5 collections left that I want to talk about, Tumblr is being a little bitch and will not let me add anything more to this post. So, see you in 5 for the final post!

Lauren x

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wishfuledarchive · 5 years

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[ sofia carson. cisfemale. demisexual.] wearable art and a fresh manicure always remind me of sojourner ‘georgie’ avara, who happens to be a twenty four year old art history + restoration student. they are known for being alluring and selfish which probably explains why they are into impact play & service submission.

this is long just so y’all know before you even start, if you make it through this whole thing you deserve all the good things in the universe. smash that heart & i’ll slide in your dms for plots. this applies for all of the intros that will be posted following this one. before liking please make sure you’ve read my intros and have some idea of where you’d like the plots to go before liking, if you need ideas there are a bunch listed at the end of their intros ! ♡

backstory

Sojourner Avara was born to Amelia and Javier Avara. He was an investment banker and financial advisor to some of the most powerful people in the city. She was a journalist from America who moved abroad to work at La Paris Journal, she thought she’d be doing hard hitting ground breaking journalist but has spent most of her career writing puff pieces. Just as Amelia was ready to cut her losses and move back home she met Javi. He was sweet, charming, funny and instantly she fell for him. They were married after a year of dating and a few months later they found out they were expecting their first and only child, any dreams Amelia had of leaving the city were banished with the first kick of her baby. From the moment she was born Javier was certain that Georgie would do great things. Without a second thought to the jump in he moved their family from their rundown apartment in the heart of the city to a multi bedroom palace in the suburban paradise to give her a chance to blend in with those from High Society. He started her training young, enrolling her in the same preschools as them, using the same nannies, tutors even maids as them.

Growing up Georgie loved her life, they went to events, luncheons and even Christmas parties by some of the oldest families in the city. Everytime she had to meet a new person her father would lavish her in new dresses, shoes and hairbows it made her feel like a princess. She loved going to their homes that seemed like castles, she’d always find time to slip away and wall down the grand halls of their homes in awe of their family portraits some dating back to the start of the city. She knew that that’s what she wanted, to leave behind a legacy for her family. Something they could be proud of, passed down from generation to generation so that even a hundred years from now someone like her would be standing in the position she was, staring up at a portrait of her. She was a child then, she didn’t understand that to be apart of this club, she had to be born in.

At age thirteen the real world came crashing into Georgie’s life for the first time. She’d gotten an A on an essay that she and her father had stayed up all night working on, he’d read and reread it so many times that he could say it outloud to her by heart. Instead of going home she begged her driver to take her to her father’s office instead. The guards all smiled when she arrived, walking with her to the elevator and buzzing her onto her father’s floor she waved to everyone in the office as if she was a princess in a parade as she made her way down the hall. It didn’t seem strange to her that his secretary wasn’t out front until she barged into his office and found her pinned against a wall while her father was hastily unbuttoning her shirt. She froze, so did he. They both just stared at the other for a moment before his secretary broke away and hastily fixed her shirt as she scurried out the door. How could he do something like this? To her, to her mother? She wanted to push him out of the window and see if he’d survive the twenty story fall. He forced Georgie to promise to keep what she saw to herself, that mama would be very mad at her if she said anything. Wanting to keep the peace, to keep her family in tact. She stayed silent. Though her relationship with her father was never the same.

Two years later things went from bad to worse. There were rumors floating around about Javier, how clients were coming in to talk about their portfolios and him not having anything to show them, being unable to take out money they’d invested that he said had turned a profit and then one day, like smoke. He was gone. Before he could be arrested he’d disappeared into the night with over five million dollars. Leaving Amelia to raise Georgie with no money and a tarnished reputation. All of the connections she’d made with those in high society were gone, many of her friends parents had invested money with her father and now as a result, wanted nothing to do with her. It was a harsh reality that switched a light in the young girl. She could remember having conversations with her father where he told her that money was the only thing that mattered, and he was right. The instant their money was gone, so was her life.

Amelia was forced to take Georgie out of her private school, sell their house and move back the city. She didn’t want to make it harder for her mother so she didn’t say anything, she didn’t complain as her dresses began to fade, she didn’t ask for new clothes, she swallowed the food that tasted like dust and she locked her ball of rage in a box and tucked it deep within herself. Deciding instead to control as much of her life as she could. Refusing to allow herself to wind up in an another chaotic situation. Her mother quickly remarried and almost overnight the life Georgie knew was back, to a degree. They moved from Paris to her mother’s hometown in Austin, Texas. She didn’t have to worry about food, or shelter. She got to buy whatever she wanted and even go back to private school.

It’s been over ten years since her father disappeared. She doesn’t think about him anymore but he’s had more influence over her life than she’d like to admit. His desire to be financially stable, to be successful, to be the best of the best is embedded so deeply into her subconscious that it rules her every move.

personality

Is very bossy, thinks they know everything, is naturally a leader but can be a bit overbearing and forceful however she’s mad ambitious, she has big plans for herself and her career and she won’t stop until she’s at the top

Understands that the key to success is to NETWORK so social relationships are very important to her, she goes through a lot of hoops to make sure that her image is always up to par

Constantly stalking social media, all of which is perfectly curated btw

Honestly she doesn’t like conflict, she’s not the type of girl who will start a fight with someone or put someone down purposely. She wants peace and harmony for everyone.

She’s a wee bit sensitive, like yell at her and she will probably not act like it bothers her but then go to the bathroom and cry. She’s especially sensitive to criticism!!

While she is very emotional, her emotions take precedence over everything else. If she feels something she has to get it off her chest right away so she can move on with the rest of her day without being upset.

She’s got v expensive tastes, she’s always been drawn to beauty and the finer things in life - it’s why she fell in love with art at a young age

Though she is ambitious she’s not aggressive in the way she goes about it, she’s more of the charm the pants off of anyone and everyone around her so of course she gets the opportunity you wanted

Very responsible, organized, trustworthy (at times), she’ll rarely jump to conclusions or take uneducated risks

Might not always show it but she’s very loyal to the people she cares about

She’s naturally trustworthy, and doesn’t have much patience for those who don't show respect for others, who take foolish risks, and who lead disorganized lives.

Suffers from inner tension and negative, self-destructive behavior - when things are going well, she constantly fears that something will come along to change that (naturally this becomes a self fulfilling prophecy)

She puts a lot of pressure on herself when it comes to her endeavors and because of this tends to feel immensely dissatisfied with herself and her accomplishments, she’s honestly never satisfied when it comes to anything she does there’s always something she could have done better.

She doesn’t feel like she can show her real self to anyone, and tbh she doesn’t even know who her “real” self is anymore - maybe she never did in the first place

Has an extreme fear of losing control, as such, she can be intensely fearful of, or threatened by, change.

She's most comfortable with the darker side of her nature than the lighter aspects.

Super impatient, she lives life in the moment and waiting for something to happen is like waiting for death.

She’s very much so in her head, at times she’ll intellectualize her emotions instead of feeling them. She doesn’t do anything without planning it out so she hella doesn’t get people who’ve committed crimes of passion or excessively emotional

She'll rarely sulk or play any drawn-out games of manipulation, you can pretty much know what she'll want at any given time.

She is a sexual person but she needs to have an emotional connection to feel sexually fulfilled - her intellectual nature allows her to have casual sexual connections which she often uses to advance her career

Venus in Pisces people project themselves as dreamy, soft-hearted partners. Everything about the way they flirt promises a lovely time. Theirs is an elusive charm -- they are sweetly playful, a little moody, and perhaps a little irregular. They appreciate romance and poetry, and they prefer to "feel out" both you and the relationship you share, so don't expect too much planning ahead.

wanted connections

enemies / rivals

friends turned enemies

friends who only like georgie bc she’s the queen bee

friends who want to overthrow her

forced friends (i.e their parents are bffs so we have to hang out but idk if i actually like you)

lab partner

drinking / partying buddies bonus points if they only get along while fucked up - this could also be romantic tbh

dance team members bonus points if your chara needs help w/ dance and georgie is just determined to make them good

dance partner

someone who knows about georgie’s dad and is blackmailing her (no one at ulysses knows abt her dad but this muse)

the reckless muse who drags perfect lil georgie into mess 24/7

the muse who just wants to know georgie and she’s keeping them 10 ft away at all times bc NO YOU CANT KNOW ABOUT MY PAST SO STAWP ASKING

georgie thinks your muse hates them, or vice versa and they share a cigarette/drink/cab late at night and find out that’s not true

someone who has a crush on georgie & she takes advantage of that (makes them help her w/ homework, buy her coffee, carry her books etc but does noTHING for them)

#ulysseshq.intro

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brownstonearmy · 4 years

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2019-12-20: Wiped, Part 3

June 27 (Saturday Evening)

Fresh from their shenanigans at Stout Manor, Norm, Lucky, and Q head back from whence they came. Kalani is playing with their new mask and serving as the party's lookout gnome/plant. An acorn flies through the air and smacks into Norm's head from across the street. There's a man standing there who Norm recognizes as another undercover officer with the constabulary. The officer nods his head toward a dead drop location in a storm drain and walks off.

Norm saunters over to the storm drain and pulls out a flyer advertising Salem's, the rich person's magic store. The flyer is wrapped around a brick and the only clues are these: the word "meeting" on the back of the flyer, and the word "NOW" carved into the brick. Norm goes back to the party and announces that it's quitting time and heads off to Salem's alone.

The rest of the party agree and split up for the night to go about their various personal errands. Lucky opts to hone her cooking skills to impress Hilaria with food that remains unexploded when consumed. Lady Jangles makes an unexpected appearance with a curious wearable contraption that she would like Lucky to test. Jangles calls it the Mizzium apparatus and needs someone to test it who is experienced with chaotic energies, mostly because the apparatus has a tendency of behaving... unexpectedly. Lucky agrees to be the test subject.

Kalani goes off to play with Skara in the meantime, while Q heads back to their place to get cleaned up and maybe hit a show at a tavern. We'll get back to these fine adventurers in a moment, but their activities are about to be unpleasantly interrupted. For now, though, let us turn our attention to Norm Nimblebottom who is walking alone toward an unknown meeting.

Norm takes a winding route toward Salem's, periodically checking to make sure he is not being followed. He walks into a Salem's just as the proprietor (the eponymous Salem DuVernay) is preparing to close up for the evening. Norm tries to gain access to whatever secret meeting is being held by putting the flyer down on the counter, but this isn't the invitation that Salem requires. Norm tries to intimidate Salem to let him into the meeting, but Salem finds the intimidation endearing and mistakes it for flirtation. Salem offers to set up another, different meeting tomorrow, provided Norm brings a bagel with grape jelly tomorrow morning.

It's time for a different plan of action, and Norm tries to subdue Salem by exploiting pressure points. Norm goes for the neck, but the difference in their respective heights makes estimating distances a little tricky. The neck pinch ends up turning into a Purple Nurple. But there's no time for awkwardness as the town's alarm bells begin to toll.

Kalani is the first to feel the earthquake, as they are wandering the sewers with Skara. Something is moving through the earth itself. Lucky successfully creates a perfectly-safe-to-eat dish, but the alarms blare before she can taste test. Q manages to get a bath, but any plans after that are scrapped as the rest of the party converges on the dangerous situation near Salem's.

Small sinkholes are opening up in the area, some of which contain a large worm-like creature. Norm and Kalani aren't sure what the worm things are, but Lucky and Q know that those worms look like bigger versions of the creatures in the eggs from Outflow Station 1. Lucky creates a minor illusion of feet stomping nearby one of the worms to see if it responds to it. The worm takes the bait and lunges after the footsteps. Salem yells that everyone needs to go to the store's vault if they want to stay safe.

The vault is deep in the heart of the store, with thick stone walls etched in magical symbols. Locked strongboxes make up most of the sparse furniture in the room. Lucky asks how safe things are in here. While Salem's wares are of the safest and highest quality, he cannot vouch for the contents he stores for other people. It's full of traps and unstable magic, just the kind of stuff that should avoid contact with a wild surge.

Kalani casts find traps to see where most of the danger is. They see lots of things that might cause area of effect injuries, and a single locked box that is protected solely by an alarm spell. While Salem is securing the rest of the building, Lucky casts Mage Hand to investigate the area and try to trigger the alarm. The box doesn't open at first, so Lucky breaks out the Mizzium Apparatus and tries to cast knock. The chaotic energies of the apparatus do not cooperate entirely, and even after triggering a wild surge to gain advantage, Melf's Acid Arrow is cast instead. The damage does manage to melt the lock and open the box, though! As a side effect of the wild surge, a compass arrow appears above Lucky's head and points in a random direction.

Just for fun, the party follows the arrow out of Salem's and toward wherever it's pointing. Unfortunately for everyone, the arrow is leading straight toward Brynnan. Brynnan is running to Salem's to check on the status of the item he's storing in the alarmed box in Salem's vault. Lucky tries to cast Haste using the Mizzium Apparatus in order to beat Brynnan back to the shop, but she ends up casting Stinking Cloud on Brynnan instead.

Norm sees an opportunity to slow down Brynnan even more. He tosses a folding boat into the stinking cloud just in front of Brynnan and says the command word to turn it into a boat. The boat pops open and blocks Brynnan's progress for the moment. Meanwhile Kalani transforms into a swift panther and dashes back toward Salem's with Q in tow.

Brynnan stumbles out of the stinking cloud, and Lucky apologizes for "accidentally" targeting him with the spell. She offers him a candy as a consolation prize, but this act of generosity is a clever deception! The candy is actually one of Jangles' Fartknocker pills, and Lucky is VERY convincing. Brynnan pops the pill and gloats about having his superiority finally acknowledged.

Norm tries to retrieve his boat from the lingering cloud, but the stench is so overpowering that he is quickly overcome with assorted unpleasant bodily functions. Meanwhile, Kalani reaches the store and rushes past Salem on the way to the vault. They activate the soundstone contained in the box and hear an audio snippet of Anaxilas giving a speech in front of the whole town at the Spring Planting Festival. Anaxilas isn't feeling very well after eating some potentially bad food, and ends up having a booty blowout on stage in front of everyone. The crowd laughs and Anaxilas runs off stage in tears.

Back in the combat zone, Lucky dismisses her cloud right as Brynnan fails to hold in his own gargantuan fart. No sphincter is strong enough to contain such gastrointestinal rage and Brynnan ends up emitting another Stinking Cloud centered on himself. Brynnan is unable to avoid the consequences of such a foul smell and collapses to the ground as Lucky runs over to Norm and readies another spell.

Salem is freaking out about the sudden appearance of a panther in the vault, but Q is there to assure him that they have a way with animals and will get the panther out of the vault safely. Q makes a flashy show of entering the vault and has a discreet head-nodding conversation with Ultimate Panther Kalani about verifying what was on the soundstone. Once the stone's authenticity is verified, Q pockets the stone and leads the Definitely-Real-Panther out of the shop. As Kalani and Q make it back to the rest of the party, Lucky casts Thunder Step and teleports a short distance away with Norm, though another wild magic surge happens and makes Lucky grow 5 inches taller.

Everyone goes back to SHART HQ where Dave and Joe Longfellow are waiting. Dave is glad that the party is safe, and Joe Longfellow is eager to verify the authenticity of the object. Joe asks for some privacy as they adjourn to the soundproof "Sewer Treasures" room to listen to the stone. Once the first few words are spoken, Joe smashes the stone on the floor and declares that the mission is completed. He pays the party with a bag of cut gemstones that he definitely obtained through legitimate means as a regular common merchant and not as a famous adventurer. Joe leaves the room before Q can make Joe squirm too much more.

Once Joe leaves, the party assesses the situation. Kalani suggests repairing the stone so that it's physically intact and using the no-longer-magical stone as potential leverage with Salem, Brynnan, and Joe. Minor illusions could replicate the appearance of the recording that was destroyed by Joe. Who knows what sorts of shenanigans this party will invoke with this sort of thing!

Stay tuned next time for more!

#shits and giggles #Dungeons and Dragons #adventure log #joe longfellow #soundstone #salem's #5e #fishdavidson

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loveydoveypiperwright · 5 years

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A haze fell over Jazlyn as she blinked awake. She squinted, falling into a coughing fit. Muffled alarms blared as her cryo-pod opened. She gasped for air, falling out of it, and onto the floor. She rolled onto her back, throwing her palms against the freezing floor. After a moment, she got onto her feet, regaining her breath. She looked around, shivering, gazing at the large round tanks in front of her that were covered in chemical frost, as well as three cryo-pods behind that.

Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.

“Hello?” The question echoed off the walls. No response.

She rubbed her eyes, wandering to the next pod beside her. As she met face to face with it, she saw a woman’s head had fallen limp, swayed to the left. She was likely dead. Jazlyn grimaced, walking over to another pod. They had the same formation, looking downward, frozen. She walked to another, and another, and another. All dead.

Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.

Rubbing her hands along her arms, she made her way to the door before noticing the packed jumpsuit in the corner. She walked over, pulling it out and leaving it on the table with a pat, taking the bag with her. She stood in front of the door, waiting for it to open. After a few moments, she banged on it, it promptly opening. She stepped out, delving into the vault.

Jazlyn circled around, walking into a small office. She swiped some things off the desk, noticing the lone skeleton laying on the floor. Stripping the clothes off it, she outfitted them over her suit to keep warm. She took the pistol on the table beside it, placing it inside her bag. She continued on, just making it to the vault door control room before hearing the familiar sound of a cryo-pod opening. Not one, but two. She turned around, running back through the Vault.

Jazlyn stood in the doorway of Cryoroom C, watching a woman quietly sob in front of another pod, which was open. She occasionally looked up to whoever was inside, her mouth cracking into a frown. She used the back of her hands to constantly wipe her face of tears.

“Miss?”

The woman jolted, turning her head so quickly she might've pinched something. She breathed heavily, her breath forming in the air.

Jazlyn raised her hands, her palms facing her.

“Are you alright?”

“No.” She croaked.

Jazlyn gestured with her left hand, ‘May I?’

The woman looked her over, steadily nodding.

Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.

Leaving her bag at the door, Jazlyn kept her hands in the air, walking over to her. Once she was close enough, she offered her a small lighter.

The woman took it, clicking it open, keeping the small flame near herself.

Jazlyn pressed her lips together, turning to the frozen corpse.

“Was he..?”

“Yeah.” She dragged the back of her hand across her face again. Her cheeks were red like she was being too rough with herself. “Don’t suppose you got any smokes?”

Jazlyn nodded, pulling out a box of preserved cigarettes from her pant’s pocket. She bumped her fist against it, pulling one out, handing it over. The woman cupped her hands around it, watching the flame flicker as it met with the cigarette paper. Jazlyn leaned in, sharing the flame with her own cigarette. The woman clicked the lighter shut once both of theirs was lit, giving it back. Taking a long drag, she sighed heavily, looking to the ceiling.

Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.

Jazlyn tilted her head, looking at him, “He looks… Wasn't he supposed to give a speech at the Veteran's Hall down in Concord?”

“Yeah. He was.”

“Second Battalion, 108th Infantry Regiment.” Jazlyn blew a stream of smoke away from him, “We served together.”

The woman shivered, “I'm sorry you had to see him like this. It's no more shock to me than it is to you.”

Jazlyn looked back to her, eyes widening as if something struck her. She moved the cigarette from her fingers to her mouth, quickly taking off her lab coat, wrapping the other woman in it.

“Here, this is a little warmer.”

The woman pulled her arms through, thumbing his wedding ring in her palm.

“What's your name?”

“Jazlyn.” She smiled, “And you?”

“Carol.” She sniffled, “Thank you.”

Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.

“Why haven't you woken the others?”

“The rest are dead.”

Carol raised a hand over her mouth, “They all bit the bullet?”

Jazlyn cocked an eyebrow, “What? By what the terminals say, everyone in cryostasis ran out of air.”

Carol blew a bit of smoke, “Oh.”

“That would explain the bullet hole in his forehead, though.” Jazlyn noticed Carol’s glare, flinching, “Sorry. What happened?”

Carol breathed in, waiting a moment before watching her smoke disappear into the cold air. “A… A man with a scar came in here and woke him up, taking our son. He didn't want to give him up, and so the man…” She wiped her face again, “He shot him.”

Jazlyn’s shoulders fell, “I'm so sorry.”

Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.

“You haven’t happened to see him, have you?”

“No. I've been here just shy of an hour.”

“Ah.” Carol looked to him, sighing.

Carol closed her eyes, “I'll find who did this and I'll get Shaun back. I promise.” She pulled the hatch to the cryo-pod, letting it close one last time.

“Let's go.”

Jazlyn nodded, “Of course.”

The two headed off towards the exit, leaving the droning overhead speaker, passing by plenty of radroach corpses.

“Your doing?”

“Yeah.” She paused, pulling batons from her bag, “Would you prefer two batons or a pistol? In case we run into more.”

Carol’s eyes grew wide, “I’ll have the batons, thanks. They let pistols in here?”

“I suppose they do.”

“Right.”

“That, or they were confiscated.”

Carol’s eyes lingered on the skeletons they passed, “How did you not choke to death if everyone else did? I didn't even see you on the pad.”

Jazlyn shook her head, “I don’t know.” She pulled back the plaid shirt the skeleton once wore, as well as lifting her pant leg, revealing the Vault 111 suit beneath. “I used to live in Concord; those of us who lived there were brought here before your group, I’m assuming.”

“You didn't know about the bombs?”

“I was told there were threats of them, but I didn't bother taking my chances and waiting to see if they was true or not.”

Carol coughed, “So you didn't see them go off then? You didn’t even see the news?”

Jazlyn tilted her head, “You mean-”

Carol nodded.

“You're telling me that Boston got blown to hell?”

She nodded again.

“Good lord.” Jazlyn shuttered, running her free hand through her hair.

“You can say that again. Saw it with my own two eyes.”

Soon, the two entered the main area. Jazlyn went forward, heading towards the controls. Near the controls was yet another skeleton, though this one had an odd gadget near it. ‘Pip-boy’ it read. While she looked it over, Carol found another skeleton, which had a device just like the one at Jazlyn's boots.

“I remember the doctor having one of these when my husband and I entered the Vault.” Carol called, “Do you know what they are?”

“Wearable terminals, I think. You fasten them to your wrist and they watch your vitals, or so I’ve heard. Government technology.”

Carol shrugged, affixing the one she found to her wrist. Watching her, Jazlyn did the same, wiping away the dust, watching the binary code flush across the screen.

“Well, what do I do now?” Jazlyn eyeballed the controls, noticing a port, yet no cord was near. Carol walked over to her, rotating her wrist around, looking at all the little details.

Not having heard what Jazlyn said, she pointed to a bit on the Pip-Boy. “It even has a holotape insert. That’s nifty.”

Jazlyn blinked, beginning to repeat herself.

“Oh,” Carol said, cutting her off. She looked over her Pip-Boy again.

“Maybe you use this thing?” She tugged on a plug near the holotape insert, extending it outward, followed by a long wire. She inserted it into the console, the words ‘VAULT DOOR REMOTE ACCESS: READY’ blinking across the Pip-Boy screen. She hit the red button with her fist, fastening the plug back into its appropriate spot.

Vault door cycling sequence initiated. Please stand back.

More sirens began to blare, orange lights spinning across the room. There was a puff of steam and sparks, before the large contraption in the walkway hitched onto the door, spinning it and pulling it to the side. The two walked across and descended down the steps, facing the gate.

“You sure you want to go up there?”

Carol nodded, stepping onto the platform. Jazlyn joined her, taking a deep breath.

As it started up, there was a large, mechanical tremble that threw them off balance. Taking a moment to regain their footing, they nervously chuckled to each other, the elevator slowly beginning to inch upwards.

A large gust of air tousled their hair as the metal bunker doors parted, light pouring down onto them. Carol shut her eyes, holding her breath. Jazlyn raised her arm over her eyes, blinking away the fuzz of a bright sun. Had it always been that bright?

The elevator stopped, the two now perfectly leveled with the surface. Jazlyn lowered her arm, gasping. Carol opened her eyes, her mouth falling open.

The world, as they knew it, had changed for the worst.

#So uhhh this idea came to me in the shower #So thats cool #Anyway #Fallout 4 #Jazlyn Scyon #Sole Survivor #Natty rambles #Natty's OC Bits #Mutual's OCs

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morkmywords · 6 years

Text

Black Umbrella | EXO | Mafia au | Part 2

Masterlist | Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Length: 2.4k

The thunder clapped as rain continued to pelt against the window, it was the middle of the night and you were surrounded by 7 men.

“Well isn't this oddly fitting,” you mumbled trying to ignore the tension that seemed to surround the room but it seemed to only grow with all the sets of eyes staring back at you. Suddenly the door banged open and the 2 remaining guys burst into the room. One pulled out a chair and sat with the others while the other man stomped across to the other end of the table and sat down. His gaze gave you chills as he stared at you from the other end of the table and you shrunk back into your chair instinctively.

“Well, we’d better introduce ourselves seeing as you’ll be staying here for a very long time.” He said with an evil smirk, you sat up straighter trying to seem less intimidated but you were pretty sure it didn’t work. He worked his way around the table saying everybody’s name, your mind was racing as you tried to take in all the new information while trying not to freak out.

“And I’m Xiumin, the leader.” He finished with a smirk and you just stared at him wide-eyed while he threw his feet onto the table and leaned farther back into his chair. “If you’ll be staying with us there will be some rules.” he said staring directly at you and you were unnerved by the intensity of his gaze

“A-a-and what if I don’t?” you stuttered out trying to sound brave but utterly failing and wincing at the sound of your own voice.

“You’ll die in one way or another, torture, murder…..” he said simply like it was nothing out of the ordinary. You gulped and he seemed to take that as a cue to continue. “Would you like to hear the rules now?” he asked smirk returning to his face as he sat back up, you just nodded afraid to speak again for fear of getting killed.

“If you’ll be staying here you will be like our maid,” he said in an authoritative tone while straightening himself in his chair. “You will cook, clean, do laundry and any other chores we ask you but there will be rules as a stated before. Firstly, You are not allowed to ask questions about who we are or what we do unless somebody tells you first.” he said as he gave a pointed glance at one of the others, “Second, you are not allowed to talk unless you are spoken too, and that includes visitors. With that I’ll move onto the third rule, when we have visitors over you will stay out of our way, if there are no tasks you will return to your room and wait. You are also not allowed to leave this property under any circumstances unless you are escorted by someone and you are also not allowed to go into the basement, even if you don't follow any of the other rules don't go in the basement. And of course, if you break any rules you will be punished. You got all that?”

“I think so?” Your mind was a mess, trying to grasp your situation and remember everything he said when somebody grabbed your arm and yanked you up.

“Chen will show you to your room.” Xiumin said waving you off as you were pulled out the door. The man who you guessed was Chen led you wordlessly through the house and up many flights of stairs until you reached what seemed to be the top floor.

He pulled open the door to reveal what seemed to be a room the size of a broom closet, there was a cot pushed against one wall with a small dresser on the other side. At the back, there was another small door which led to an even smaller bathroom which contained the bare minimum of a shower, toilet, and sink. Compared to this your old apartment looked like heaven but you would have to live with it.

“Someone will be back in the morning to show you around.” He said before shutting the door, you heard the click of a lock and you knew you were stuck in the darkness until morning. You crawled onto the cot, throwing the thin blanket over yourself before trying to fall asleep. Your thoughts drifted back to the recent events, for some reason you weren’t sad, had you gone through enough in your life for this not to phase you? You were definitely scared of them but you weren’t sad about being stuck in this house away from the outside world, you must be crazy for not wanting to escape, maybe you hit your head when you passed out and you went nuts. Before you could think about it any further there was a knock at your door, you didn’t realize it but you must have stayed up all night and now there was light filtering through the small window. The lock clicked and their door was thrown open by the man who you thought was Baekhyun.

“Let’s go, I don't have all day.” He muttered before stalking back down the hallway, you quickly threw off your blankets and staggered after him, legs still stiff with exhaustion. You stumbled after him through the hallways of the giant house as he showed you around. He showed you where everything was all while a scowl was plastered on his face, he stopped when you finally returned to the main sitting area.

“Here.” He grumbled as he thrust a pile of clothing into your arms which you assumed was your uniform, he was about to turn and leave when he spun back around. “ I forgot to give you this, it’s a phone that the guys will use to contact you and give you tasks, you are not allowed to use it for anything other than that and we can track it so we will know if you do. You are expected to make us two meals every day at 8am and 7pm, got it?” He asked sounding more irritated than earlier, you nodded afraid that if you spoke it would make him angrier. “You can start by cleaning the attic and you look like a raccoon.”

You touched your eyes as he left the room, mentally cursing yourself for staying up all night before you went back up the 3 flights of stairs to reach the attic. It was dark and dusty just like a stereotypical attic, full of junk with no other place to go. You coughed and covered your nose as you felt around for a light switch, once you found it the whole room was bathed in a yellow glow. Most of the stuff was old furniture but there were a few boxes scattered around, unsure of where to start you pushed all the furniture to one side trying not to inhale all the dust it was sending into the air before you started going through the boxes. Most of the boxes were filled with old clothes that you sorted through separating the ones full of holes and mould into one pile while you threw the still wearable clothes into another. At one point you opened a box and were met with a swarm of moths flying into your face as you shrieked and fell back on your but. “How can these boys have so much junk?” you whined to yourself as you sorted through the last couple shirts carefully shaking them out to try and get rid of any leftover moths. You moved onto the next few boxes which were mostly full of little trinkets and books, you sorted through them all seeing if there was anything to throw out but mostly organizing the things into boxes. You grabbed a few books which seemed interesting hoping that nobody would miss them since everything was covered in dust, you also found a small compact mirror, some candles, an old lamp, and matches which you also decided to keep.

You were heading down the stairs with a huge bag of trash from the attic when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out seeing a text from Kai,

‘I need you to come and get my laundry’

You sighed knowing you couldn’t just abandon the bag of mouldy old clothes and responded.

‘I’ll be there in 5 minutes I'm in the middle of something’

You rushed down the stairs and stuffed the huge trash bags of clothes in the garbage before you raced back to where you remembered his room was praying that he wouldn’t torture you for being late. You knocked on the door and it was immediately opened by an obviously grumpy man who you assumed to be Kai.

“What could be more important for you to do?” He demanded as you followed him inside. You were about to respond before he cut you off with more instructions. “Take my laundry and wash it, make sure to separate the lights and darks then come back and change the sheets on my bed.” You nodded and he went back to his computer and continued to do whatever he was doing as you took his laundry basket and headed to the exit but stopped in your tracks.

You cleared your throat trying to get his attention. “Uhm sir, do you have a preference on what type of laundry soap you would like me to use?”

The glare he was sending you vanished from his face and he blinked a couple times before responding. “The one in the yellow bottle is fine.” He turned back to his computer and you nervously cleared your throat again.

“Are there any specific sheets you would like?”

“Whatever.” was all he said and you headed out the door with his laundry basket on your hip. You shut the door behind you and were startled when the door across from you swung open.

“Oh you’re doing laundry can you grab mine too?” the man said as he walked back into his room and you followed. “Use the soap in the blue bottle and make sure you air dry my socks.” he said as you grabbed the basket with your other hand, nodding before you left.

You were coming back from the laundry room when you heard screams. You followed the noise to the basement door as they got louder and louder until the suddenly cut off as the door swung open. Xiumin walked out wiping his hands on a rag as he closed the door behind him and saw your frozen body.

“What are you doing?” He demanded as he grabbed the front of your shirt pulling you to face him. His eyes were filled with pure anger which seemed like it was burning you.

You winced back trying to avoid his glare stuttering and trying to make an excuse.

He threw you against the wall still holding you up by your collar. “You had better stay out of the way or that could be you screaming.” He hissed into your ear before dropping your collar and walking away. You shivered at the thought of the screams as you slid to the ground unable to hold yourself up. You stayed there in a shaking pile until the alarm on your phone started beeping signalling it was time for you to start cooking. You were silent working as quickly as possible trying to cook food, you had picked up some skills from the chefs at the hotel restaurant so you were pretty confident in your skills but you still ended up cutting yourself. You wrapped it in a towel and began plating the food before sending out a text saying that dinner was ready. They all came to the dining room and grabbed their dishes, some leaving to eat and some staying in the dining room as you set out to wash the dishes. You tried your best to keep you injured hand out of the water but it wasn’t very easy until you finally finished washing all the pots and pans. You left to go find some bandages for your hand before washing the plates, you wandered back up through the hallways trying to find some sort of medical stuff when you bumped into the man you remembered from the first night, Lay.

“Y/n? Why are you holding your hand like that?” He asked coming up to you before grabbing the towel and revealing your bloody hand. You winced as he started inspecting it running his fingertips lightly over the slice that was running down the side of your hand. “What did you do?”

“I was making dinner and I couldn’t be late so I had to leave it and now I'm looking for some bandages.” You explained quietly afraid of him lashing out like Xiumin did earlier.

“Come with me I have first aid equipment.” He said before he pulled you into his room and sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. He started rummaging through the cabinet above the sink before he grabbed a bunch of stuff and set it out on the counter. “It’s going to need stitches, so it's going to sting a little.” He said before he sprayed it with a disinfectant, you hissed as you felt the sting and dug your hands into the side of the bathtub.

“Are you sure you’re qualified?” you asked as he continued to clean your hand. You really didn’t want to lose the use of your left hand for the rest of your life.

“I’m the doctor of this team, If I can fix gunshot wounds in pretty sure I can stitch up your hand.” He said teasingly with a warm smile. You gulped as he pulled out the needle and got ready to fix your hand, you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt the first pinch. It hurt a whole lot more since he didn't numb your hand and you were crying out in pain the whole time until he finally finished. He wrapped your hand in a bandage and gave you some medicine before you thanked him and headed back to the kitchen and finished washing the dishes. You collapsed onto your cot and tried to fall asleep but all you heard was screams echoing in your head from earlier.

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