#based on a prompt i saw on twitter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comics-and-fanworks · 1 year

Note

Prompt for you (feel free to adjust this if you like)! Based on Princess Diana’s interview in 1995:

Marinette was interviewed by Lois Lane on live television about her past relationship with her former friends, bullying and harassment as well as abuse from her classmates. With Chloe, Marc, Nathaniel, Sabrina, Kagami and Luka as her only friends. Her mental health struggles including Marinette’s suicidal thoughts because Lila lied and falsely claimed about her, the toxic environment at her school and the reasons for her, Chloe, Marc, Nathaniel, and Sabrina to transfer to another school.

After the interview, it became number 1 trendy on Twitter and a national topic around the world. Bustier and Damocles were immediately fired from their jobs and had their license taken away, the class became pariahs from their peers in school and was excluded from any school activities and events. Their parents lost their jobs because of their kids' actions and nobody wants a bully parents to work for them. Lila and Alya were also sued by multiple celebrities for libel and defamation. Adrien was then stripped from his miraculous ring by Ladybug and his father sent him away to a very strict and harsh boarding school that his cousin Felix attended in London.

Hello! Thank you for the request!! I hope you like it, I tried to stay true to your original prompt, thank you again!!

TW: Swearing, Mentions of Past Abuse, Mentions of Violence, Bullying, Mentions of suicide, heavy angst

If you or someone you might know are struggling, please, please, PLEASE know that there are resources and people willing to help. It doesn't matter who you are, YOU ARE deserving of love and support!

There is a second message for this that was part two of the original request but I have no idea how to link the two.

~~~~

Marinette knew this was coming. She knew the second she decided to wear that dress to Fashion Week. She could feel everyone's eyes on the scars that ran up and down her body. She was covered in them, and almost all of them were inflicted by people she once considered friends. "This is a step towards healing," she remembered her therapist saying. "We may not like the past, but the more we try to run from it the faster it chases us," she remembered Luka humming as she ran her idea through him. "Your scars are not a sign of weakness," Kagami told her as they sparred, "A lion who has won many battles has many scars, and no one doubts its strength. Your scars are the mark of your strength." She took a deep breath and continued to walk forward. She could hear the paparazzi's cameras clicking as they took her picture. She would surely end up on the news, but Marinette decided, to let them talk. Let them talk about her scars and wonder where they came from, let them talk about who could have inflicted them on the designer. Let them talk until they finally decided to approach Marinette and ask. Despite her nerves telling her to curl up in a ball and hide, she kept her head high and walked down the red carpet like a queen walking to her throne. As soon as she was inside her phone buzzed, a message from Lois Lane. "Hi, honey. I saw the live feed from Fashion Week, are you going to be okay?" Marinette smiled as she read the message, Lois may be a reporter with a supernatural ability to detect a good story, but she was a mother first and was going to make sure her son's friend was alright. "I'll be okay. It was very scary because I knew everyone was staring," Marinette replied, she watched those little dots appear, and then Lois responded, "Do you want to talk about it? Off the record of course." It gave her a warm feeling to know that one of the greatest journalists was willing to let such a big story go to prioritize her comfort. She thought about it and replied, "Yeah, I would like to talk about it, but I'd like to talk about it on the record. Do you have some time in your schedule?" Lois's reply was almost instant, "Everything else can wait." Marinette typed out, "Perfect. I'll be in Metropolis in a week."

The first thing Marinette saw when she got off the plane was her friend Jon, followed by the airport's ceiling as she was quickly tackled into a hug. The two friends made small talk as she got her luggage and Jon decided to get her lunch. As they ate their conversation eventually turned to the reason for her trip. "Mari if you're uncomfortable at any time just say the word and mom will stop the interview. She's not like that one lady in Paris, she's not gonna push you into sharing anything you're uncomfortable with." Marinette sighed and picked at her food, "I know. That's why I want it to be Lois. She's the only one I can trust to let me tell my truth and not try to put some narrative on it or dig into more... private things," Jon nodded. His mother immediately figured out that Marinette was a hero. He remembered having to help his mom calm down the panicking girl and promising that if anyone could keep a secret identity a secret, it was Superman's wife. "If you don't mind, what made you decide to finally talk about all this?" Marinette's face contorted as she felt rage boiling in her stomach, "Damocles and Bustier still have their jobs," Jon gasped and Marinette continued, "It never would have gotten as bad if it did if they'd stepped in, but they refused! They refused to help me, and I bet they'll refuse to help others. I can't stand by and do nothing! I have proof of everything that was done to me, physical proof not just my word. I need to make sure they can't hurt anyone else," It felt so good to let out her anger without the fear of being akumatized for it. Taking a minute to calm down, Marinette continued, "I've also decided I'll be immigrating to Gotham. As much as I love my parents, I need to get out of Paris. So, this is also kind of one big last 'Fuck you' to the people who hurt me," Jon laughed, happy to see Marinette was still as feisty as ever. "Now what can I say to convince you to ditch Gotham and stay in Metropolis?" Marinette laughed, "Get my fiancé to move here, and then you've got a deal."

Lois really knew how to wrap the media around her finger and make a subconscious narrative, Marinette thought as she sat down on the porch of the Kent Family Farm. Mama and Papa Kent were more than happy to let Lois use it as a set for the interview, and when she asked Lois why the woman explained, "When people talk about something tough, or in our case hear you talk about something tough, they prefer to be in a safe environment. The farm has a very calming atmosphere, there's gentle background noise, and it's warm enough that we can be outside. Plus, it helps make you more sympathetic than an expensive set or a pricey hotel would. Most importantly, if it gets too overwhelming there are plenty of cute animals here to take your mind off things!" Marinette was a little concerned with just how well Lois understood how to paint a narrative but decided to roll with it. The two were in casual clothing as well, instead of the professional attire they were used to. Eventually, they were a couple minutes out from the camera feed going live, so Lois decided to give Marinette a rundown on how the process would work. "Ok honey, here's what's going to happen. I'll start off with an introduction explaining who you are and why we're here, and I'll ask you some basic small talk questions. After that, I'll ask about the scars, and it's your choice how much detail you wanna give. I'll base the rest of my questions off of what you tell me, so it will be like you and I just having a normal conversation. If at any time you need to stop, let me know and we'll cut the feed immediately. We've got a statement ready and everything, hell if you need me to I'll send the Super Boy Scouts to fetch Damian. Speaking of which you owe me an interview explaining how the hell you managed to charm that demon!" The two women laughed as they were told to take their places. The camera's light turned on, letting both women know they were now being broadcasted live to the entire world.

"Hello everyone! Thank you for joining us at such short notice. I'm Lois Lane and this gorgeous woman next to me is the marvelous designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" Marinette waved at the camera, trying to ignore the nerves in the pit of her stomach. "Mari started designing at only eight years old, and by the time she was fourteen, she had already started her own company and won multiple design competitions. She's one of those rare people with a special kind of spark. We first met when she attended a business conference that my son and his friend, her fiancé, by the way, happened to be at. I love this girl like a daughter, so Damian Wayne if you're listening, I'll kill you if you hurt her." Marinette laughed, she could practically hear the sound coming from Damian, a mix of indignation and shock that such a thing would ever be suggested. "I really could spend the whole interview just gushing about you Marinette, but then we'd have wasted your time and two plane tickets. As you know dear, the media has been speculating about you particularly intensely since Fashion Week. I'm not going to pull my punches, Mari," Lois said, the tone shifting to a more serious one as the older woman reached over to gently hold her hands, "What happened? Where did those scars come from?" Marinette took a deep breath; it was now or never. "For starters, they did NOT come from Chloe. Ever since she apologized and we worked on becoming friends, she has always been open and honest about how she bullied me in school. That stopped when I was fourteen and even at her worst she never physically hurt me. She's never denied what she did when we were young, and I want to make sure the message is clear." Lois nodded. The businesswoman had always been honest about how bitchy she was as a child, and as a result, created multiple organizations to deal with bullying. "I also want to be clear that these did NOT come from my parents. My Papa wouldn't hurt a fly and my Maman would only ever hurt someone who hurts her family." 'Smart move,' Lois thought. If she didn't clear it up, tabloids would certainly spread rumors that she was abused by her parents, and they didn't want that for Tom and Sabine.

"If I may, who did they come from? Or is it a bit more complicated than that?" "It's a bit more complicated. It was kind of like the perfect storm. I didn't realize it at the time, but my old school was a very toxic environment. My teacher was more concerned about preaching unconditional forgiveness and pushing problems under the rug. For example, I had paint poured on me right before our class photo, and instead of punishing the people who did it, she made me THANK them for "adding their creative touch" because I had designed my dress and obviously this was just them wanting to help." A screen behind them was showing the incident in question. Marinette managed to get the surveillance footage and audio of many examples of her bullying. Many of her tormentors had gone on to be successful, and if she didn't have proof she could be sued for defamation. "Chloe can back me up on this, but the principal wasn't much better. If you had money or power, he was at your beck and call. As a baker's daughter, I didn't have the resources a fashion heir, Mayor's daughter, and Diplomat's daughter did. So even in situations like the paint one, I was always in the wrong because if their children were in trouble, it would upset the money." Lois nodded, "It sounds like a lot of what happened to you was ignored. What about the school board?" "I tried to contact them, but they either never got my messages or ignored them. Either way, I had no adults I could trust, and anything I tried to make it stop only ended up backfiring." Marinette honestly had no idea why the school board never intervened. She called, emailed, and wrote letters, hell she was about to resort to telegraph.

"So, was it one person who bullied you, or was it, multiple people?" Lois asked. Her heart hurt for the young girl across from her. "It was everyone in my class except Chloe, Sabrina, and Nathaniel, my other friends, Kagami, Luka, and Marc weren't in my class. One girl led everything. Lila Rossi transferred to our class right before summer when I was thirteen. She was a liar, she claimed to know all these celebrities, go to all these countries, and do all these charities. Most of my class believed her right away, but I was always suspicious of her because I actually knew some of the people she lied about. I tried to call her out on it, and while a couple of my classmates like Nathaniel put the pieces together and realized she was full of bullshit, one classmate, Adrien Agreste, basically told me to shut up and take it. 'Take the high road,' he kept telling me even as he helped them shove me into lockers, shred my sketchbooks, and steal my stuff. He never physically hurt me, but he would cover for the others when they would. They would shove me down the stairs and I'd break an arm, and he would tell them that 'Typical clumsy Marinette tripped and feel.' They would cut me, cut my hair, and slice me with scissors," Marinette gestured to the many scars on her arm, "And he would tell any teachers that I was just not paying attention. They'd burn me with chemicals in the lab, and he would say I was goofing off. Thankfully Mrs. Mendeleev never believed that, and she had me come to her every time something happened so she could document it. It was all she could do with the principal being less than competent, and thanks to her I actually have a timeline of what happened and when," Marinette turned to face the camera, she had started crying a while ago but was still able to speak clearly, "Love ya, Mrs. M!"

"If you feel comfortable talking about it, how did their abuse, and let's be honest it was more like torture, affect you?" Marinette sighed and rubbed her wrists as she could feel herself sinking back into that feeling of dread she had dealt with each day. "I won't lie, it got to me, it really did. I struggled to sleep and was so scared to go to school that I'd get physically sick in the mornings. I completely shut myself off from the world for a while, it felt like I was on autopilot and just... doing what I had to do to survive." She took a couple of deep breaths and continued, "It didn't take long for me to believe what they were saying about me. My mental health was already screwed up thanks to Bustier, I had a martyr complex the size of Jupiter. I was taught to always be the peacemaker, always do things for others, and always take every burden. I would get in trouble if I asked for help or tried to decline to do something. I would get yelled at for asking to be paid back the thousands of dollars of costs I was taking on trying to please everyone else. So, when Lila, my classmates, and even Adrien began telling me that I was worthless, that they would be happier if I was gone, and that nobody would miss me if I died..." Marinette choked back a sob, but still tried to continue, "I spent many nights contemplating if I should take their advice and end it. I never did, primarily because I didn't want the people I loved to have to deal with the aftermath. Then, and to this day I don't know how she did it, but Lila got me blacklisted from Gabriel. She claimed to anyone who'd listen that I was an awful bully, I stole my designs, and that I only liked Adrien because I was a gold-digging whore. I had a crush on him at one time, but after what he did to me... He's dead to me. They all are. Anyways, it felt like my whole world shattered. I cried for days and stopped eating. Even though I've gotten better, I still struggle with my self-esteem. They told me I would never amount to anything, and I still struggle with trying not to believe them."

"How long were you in this awful situation?" Lois asked. She seriously considered signaling to the person controlling the TV that was set up behind them to cut the feed. Some of the injuries Marinette and Mrs. Mendeleev had taken photos of were truly awful, and the security camera feeds were tough to watch. But the world needed to know what had happened and needed to know that it wasn't okay. "I put up with it for two years, until I just... snapped. I couldn't take it anymore and broke down to my parents. I begged them not to send me there, I didn't care where they sent me to school, as long as it wasn't Dupont. I had kept so much from them because I was so scared they wouldn't believe me, that they'd be disappointed, that they'd tell me it was my fault," Marinette dabbed at her tears. Lois had told her to wear waterproof mascara and she was very grateful for it, "I never should have doubted them, Maman and Papa believed me, and had me switched to Luka and Kagami's school within the week. Marc, Chloe, Sabrina, and Nathaniel joined me shortly afterward. They told me that without the class punching bag infighting began, Lila apparently began a witch hunt of sorts. She began accusing anyone who even looked at her funny of bullying. They left before it could get much worse. It was a bit tough to adjust to my new school, I had my friends there, but I was still pretty quiet and kept to myself. My new classmates were so kind and patient with me, I think they understood that something really bad had happened to me. They never pushed me to tell them what happened, and while there were a couple of meaner students it was NOTHING compared to my old school. Because of them, and because I was in a healthier environment I was able to bounce back!"

Lois couldn't help the rush of pride she felt looking at the young woman. She remembered when she first met Marinette, who seemed rather shy and overwhelmed at that conference. She had offhandedly mentioned having to go get a dress for a press event and watching as a roaring fire was lit within Marinette's eyes. The girl had explained she was an aspiring fashion designer, and seemingly out of thin air she pulled out a sketchbook and pencil and began working. Lois swore the pencil was smoking with how fast the designer was working. She had been handed a sketch (and list of colors and materials) of the most beautiful dress she had seen. At said event, she was dubbed the best dressed and was quick to tell everyone she met about the talented teenager that had designed it. "One last question Mari, it's been a long day and I think you need TLC more than anyone right now. If you could face your tormenters today, what would you say to them?" Marinette took a deep breath and thought for a moment. "Well, I would like to say a few different things to a few people. To Lila, I want to say: I hope you're happy. You got everything you wanted and yet I'm still standing. I won't ask you why because I know why you did it: You could, plain and simple. To my classmates: I feel so sorry for you all, that you were so easily manipulated, that you were so quick to resort to violence on word of mouth alone. I feel sorry because you all were also victims of Mrs. Bustier, but in a different way than I was. You all were taught to expect someone to always carry the brunt of the load, and your bad behavior was encouraged. To Adrien: I know you're going to try and reach out to me and tell me to release a statement saying I made it up for attention. I can practically hear Nathalie typing it out now. I will not stand down, go ahead, and try to sue me, I have the evidence on my side. You were the only one who reached out to me after I changed schools, only to tell me to come back and that the problems the class had after I left were my fault. Leave me alone Adrien. I don't need you in my life and I don't want you in it. Stay the hell away from me." After she said this, a notification from Twitter pinged on everyone's phone. The tweet was from Damian Wayne and was quickly displayed on the screen behind the two women, 'On behalf of my Fiancée, legal action is being taken against her former tormenters, the people, and institutions that allowed this to happen and go on as long as it did. Don't bother harassing Marinette, this is completely out of her hands. If anyone decides to ignore her warnings or mine, a restraining order will be filed.'

The interview set off quite the explosion on the internet. May students of Dupont came out and confirmed Marinette's claims. It was trending for weeks and sparked international conversations about bullying. What shocked everyone was the severity of what Marinette endured, and it posed the question, "If she went through all that, who else could be going through similar things?" Suddenly the schoolboard had finally heard about what had happened to Marinette, and quickly fired Damocles and Bustier, primarily due to the public outrage that the two had flown under the radar. Investigations into their conduct revealed that Dupont did not just have a high akumatization rate, it also had a high suicide rate. Mrs. Mendeleev was revealed to have stayed primarily to try and help students escape such a bad environment and received a lot of praise. The school board finally released its statement, "We were greatly disturbed to hear of the abuse Mrs. Dupain-Cheng suffered at Collège Françoise Dupont and that educators under our employ did nothing to aid her. We were alarmed to hear that Mrs. Dupain-Cheng and her family tried to report her abuse and were unable to reach us. We are currently investigating this along with the many failures that led to Mrs. Dupain-Cheng's suffering. The two educators who were most responsible were let go and will no longer be in teaching positions. We sincerely apologize to Mrs. Dupain-Cheng and any others who have suffered due to oversights by the school board." The statement did not have the effect the school board had hoped for. The public largely found it unacceptable, and while they were happy Bustier and Damocles could no longer cause any damage, they were still infuriated and disturbed by the sheer ignorance (willful or not) of everything that went on within Dupont. An unexpected side effect of Marinette's interview was the scrutiny the parents of her bullies faced. People questioned how they could be so unaware of just what their children were doing and becoming, especially with Marinette making them so many things that obviously required time and money to make. Alya’s parents were criticized more harshly than the rest, primarily due to how many videos of the class's abuse were posted to the Ladyblog. The main question on everyone's mind was, 'How did this not get noticed sooner?'

Marinette's former classmates felt like their lives were imploding. They were served by the Wayne Lawyers, and it was made very clear to them that Damian Wayne was spearheading the fight against them, not Marinette. Adrien talked to his family lawyers about how they could get the suits dropped, and they told him, "Hell will freeze over before a Wayne backs down." Lila and Alya were hit with additional lawsuits from various others as well. Alya had posted Lila's many false claims about various celebrities on the Ladyblog, and their reputations had taken a hit. People began to wonder why so many famous people associated with Lila when all of her actions were revealed, and many PR teams had to work overtime to reassure the public that they had never met the girl in question. An investigation revealed that Lila had charged many of the class's shopping trips and expensive dinners to various celebrities' accounts, so she was also facing criminal charges as well. She had been effectively excommunicated from the class. After her lies came out and their actions were revealed they quickly cut contact. They were at a loss, their excuse for why they teased (They still refused to see it as anything more severe than light teasing) Marinette was because she was bullying Lila. Now that that was proven to be false, they searched for any reason to justify their actions. They can't really say that they were completely oblivious to Lila's lies, Marinette had tried to tell them multiple times and they had brushed her off thinking she was jealous that another girl was close to Adrien. Speaking of the blond, he had arranged a meeting at the Agreste Manor, and he looked like he hadn't slept since the interview. He wished he still had the Cat Miraculous, so he could escape this nightmare. He didn't want to admit it but the evidence of what he did and helped cover up was pretty damning, and it made the last words Ladybug had said to him the night she took his Miraculous all those years ago make sense, "Your actions as a civilian and in costume have proven that you are too irresponsible and immature to wield a Miraculous." He froze, Ladybug knew what he did. Ladybug, the love of his life, knew he helped make Marinette's life hell. His classmates looked at him as he was stuck in his mental turmoil, and they realized this was probably the first seriously negative press the Agreste Heir had ever gotten.

His image as Paris's Sunshine, a perfect gentleman who could do no wrong was ruined. All of their careers were, but they still held on to hope that they could save it. They didn't want to apologize, they didn't think they should have to, they were deceived by Lila after all. Adrien had hired a PR team to figure out what they should do, he had also asked privately what he should do. They had suggested a public apology and then disappearing from the public eye for a while. Thankfully his aunt and cousin agreed to let him stay with them, although he knew that Felix was never gonna let him live this down. His cousin called the second the interview finished and ripped into him. It had been incredibly hard for him to watch, and his classmates said the same. Seeing all those scars on Marinette, watching her breakdown, seeing the injuries he had helped cause, and watching the security footage of what they did... He had run to the bathroom and thrown up. Were they really that bad? Come to think of it, he remembered Marinette switching to long sleeves after they pushed her down the stairs and broke her... He was going to be sick again. His father was managing his own crisis, with his blacklisting of Marinette without solid evidence being put on blast. People were boycotting Gabriel, and it seemed like everything he did to try and fix the situation made it worse. He was brought back to the present by the cough of the man from the PR company. "Alright, now that I have everyone's attention, this is by far one of the most difficult cases I've seen in my career," Alya cut in, "We weren't that bad! Besides, it was so long ago, and I'd hardly call what we did bullying-" "Mrs. Césaire what you all did to Mrs. Dupain-Cheng is considered torture! Thank your lucky stars the statute of limitations is up, and you were children at the time, people have gone to prison for a long time for doing much less than what you all did!" To emphasize his point, he began playing the parts of the interview that showed the extent of Marinette's injuries. No one could bring themselves to look at the screen, a couple started to cry, and Adrien felt bile rise in his throat. The PR expert continued, "This goes far beyond simple bullying, you all are lucky Mrs. Dupain-Cheng did not make an attempt on her life. You are especially lucky that she said you were victims of Mrs. Bustier's utterly abysmal failings as an educator. But-" He cut Alya off before she could start,"-That does not mean you're completely Scott-free. You all still made the conscious choice to do what you did to Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, and that cannot be excused by being misled or having an enabler for a teacher. The best you can do is apologize and admit what you have done was wrong. You'll have to pray that Mrs. Dupain-Cheng decides to throw you a bone, and you WILL NOT contact her to try and force her to forgive you. That is absolutely the worst thing you can do because it will come off as if you haven't changed at all. The best thing you can do is apologize, admit you were in the wrong, and leave. Her. Alone. I will arrange an interview of our own so you can publicly apologize, a script will be written, and you'd better not deviate from it."

Nadja Chamack was the only journalist willing to interview them. It was decided that they would use the same format Marinette did and that Adrien would do most of the talking. After a brief introduction, their apology interview began. "What brings you all here today, especially after the shocking revelations that have come out," Nadja asked. She hated that she had to stick to a script, if she had it her way she would be asking the REAL questions, 'Why do you think Marinette is speaking about this now? Do you think she has something to gain? Isn't it a little fishy that she has the Wayne legal team suing you all and not her own? Do you think she's hiding something, or is she trying to get revenge?' Her producers stressed that she had to stick to the script because they would not hesitate to fire her if she began making such allegations. Adrien spoke, trying to keep himself composed, "We're here because we saw Marinette's interview, we saw how our actions hurt her, and we wanted to publicly apologize to her. We know what we did was wrong, and we were assholes. We wanted to explain our side, we know it won't fix anything or make things right, but we owe Marinette an explanation." He was doing exactly what his PR team told him to do, sounding sincere and referring to Marinette by her first name to establish a connection. Nadja nodded for him to continue, so he did, "When Lila came to school and began telling us about all the things she did and people she knew, it wasn't that hard to believe. I'm a model, Alya ran the Ladyblog, Rose knew Prince Ali, and Marinette had all these amazing connections. We weren't surprised that a diplomat's daughter knew all these people, and it wasn't exactly out of the norm for a class like ours. Somehow Marinette found out she was lying, and we refused to believe her." It was Alya's turn to speak, and the importance of staying on the script was highlighted to her, "Marinette had a massive crush on Adrien at the time, and she had gotten jealous of other girls before, so we figured this was just another one of those episodes. We also wanted to believe the best in Lila and give her the benefit of the doubt, it was what Mrs. Bustier had taught us."

Nadja couldn't help herself, she had to ask, "Adrien, when did you find out about Marinette's crush on you? How did you feel about it?" "I found out a few weeks before she transferred, and at the time I was shocked. It explained so much, about why she was so shy around me, why she was willing to listen to my awful advice. I was fully wrapped up in Lila's web then, and couldn't see past my massive crush on Ladybug so I tried to convince myself that she was a bully, and her crush was weird, but now? Now I wish I hadn't been such a coward. I wish I had seen that such an amazing girl was in front of me, if I could go back and do it differently I would. I would have stood up for her, I would have had her back for real. My biggest regret is that I didn't help her when she needed me and that I didn't reach out sooner to apologize and fix things. I lost the most amazing woman to Damian Wayne, and I’ll always regret that.” A small part of him hoped that Marinette still held a small flame for him and that he’d have a chance. He did some thinking and realized that Marinette was likely (he wasn’t 100% sure) Ladybug. If he could win her back, then he had a chance to convince his Lady to return his Miraculous, and that they were meant to be. Ladybug had no reason to be active, she defeated Hawkmoth and Mayura by herself, and had gone around the world gathering the remaining Miraculous. Part of his theory that the two were one and the same was that Marinette’s Fiancé and his family are in Gotham and are most likely providing funding for the Bat Family, and a new hero called Lady Miracle had been spotted patrolling with them, and she was reported to have multiple powers. These powers lined up with the Miraculous and her costume changed as she used them, so the two women were either one and the same or working together. Had Adrien developed these logical deduction skills earlier he would have recalled Marinette’s declaration that he was dead to her. Both the producer and PR rep were signaling to get back on the script or else their interview would be cut short. Nadja went on to the next question, “Okay, I can understand falling for someone whose life sounded similar to yours, but what I can’t understand is why you decided to pick on Marinette?”

Adrien took a deep breath, “Well Nadja, just like Marinette said in her interview with Mrs. Lane, it was a really complicated situation. What we believe now is that Marinette never bullied Lila, we know it was the other way around,” Rose cut in, going off script, “Mari didn’t have a mean bone in her body!” She sobbed into her hands, “I don’t know why we believed that, that witch over her.” “She told us what we wanted to hear,” Max sighed, “Lila promised us that she could introduce us to her important friends who could advance our careers and whether we consciously realized it or not we were willing to do almost anything to stay in her good graces.” Adrien shot them a look and continued, “My theory is that Lila gave Marinette an ultimatum, play along or she’d make Mari’s life hell. Not long after Lila began modeling for my father’s company, she began claiming Marinette was doing various things like stealing answer sheets, stealing from her, and pushing her down the stairs. Marinette was expelled without an investigation, and because we were kids, we trusted that the adults in charge were following procedures. She was reinstated, and Lila began claiming Marinette was tormenting her again. Like Max said, we were worried that if Lila didn’t believe we supported her then she would refuse to help us, but it mostly comes down to the fact that Lila lied well, and we were scared. She would claim Marinette beat her up after school and would come into school the next day with bruises. We suspect now that she was using makeup. Lila never outright said to hurt Marinette, but she was great at implying it. She said that she wished Marinette knew what the hurt she caused felt like and that If it happened to Marinette, she might quit being a bully. I think it was a case of falling into groupthink and fear. Everyone else around us seemed to believe Lila so fully, and anyone who didn’t was outcasted and treated terribly. We were afraid to challenge her, afraid to challenge the group, and we genuinely didn’t realize just how far we had escalated. I swear we never intended to hurt Marinette so badly, we sort of mindlessly followed along with what Lila suggested. When she and a couple of our other classmates transferred, Lila’s control snapped, and it was like waking up from a bad dream. She began to see her control slipping and began accusing others of doing the same things she accused Marinette of doing. It got to the point where she accused all of us of bullying her, and we realized she was full of shit. We realized what kind of person she was, and what we had become and decided to go our separate ways.” Nadja frowned. They had literally been spotted hanging out with Lila the week before Marinette was at Fashion Week and this whole thing began. If they had known Lila was a lying sociopath back in school, why the hell were they still hanging out with her? What about Marinette’s evidence? She had phone calls from Adrien demanding she returns to fix Lila’s mess, and evidence that he had known the whole time that Lila was lying. She may not be at Lois Lane’s level of reporting, but she could smell bullshit when it was in front of her, and judging by the look on her producer’s face, he’d caught on as well. Their PR agent nodded along, which told her that this was the narrative they created. They weren’t telling the truth, at least not the full truth, they were trying to slip out of trouble like they always did. Nadja remembered Marinette’s drastic change when she came to babysit Manon and listening to what these young adults were trying to spin confirmed that her earlier questions about Marinette’s interview were unfounded. Then she saw it: The signal from her producer, she could go off the script!

“Now Adrien,” She started in a tone she usually saved for when Manon was being challenging, “I’m not sure we were watching the same interview. I clearly remember some evidence Marinette presented showing that you all had fun tormenting her. I also remember that she had recordings of you demanding she comes back and fixes Lila’s mess. You called her a punching bag and said that the class needed its punching bag back otherwise they would begin ‘taking things out on each other.’ That’s not exactly what you’re telling me here. You all were spotting spending time with Lila before fashion week, and you seemed to be thick as thieves with her. So let me ask you this: Why are you lying to me?”

Adrien looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and so did his PR agent. They hadn’t expected Nadja to question their story, “I… We might have remembered some events differently. Most importantly, we want Marinette to know how sorry we are for everything that happened and what we did. We know that what Mrs. Bustier taught us is wrong, we are not owed her forgiveness, but we hope that she can find it in her heart to forgive us. Hopefully, we can work on rebuilding our friendship, but we understand that wounds like the ones we caused take time to heal. Mari, when you’re ready, please reach out to us. We’d love to apologize in person as well.” Nadja rolled her eyes. Looking at this bunch, it was obvious the sincerity wasn’t there. They acted like children getting caught sneaking an extra cookie when Nadja brought up Marinette’s evidence proving they weren’t as remorseful as they claimed to be. The fact that they only recently cut off Lila proved that they were lying and had planned to use her as a scapegoat. Nadja decided to make one last attack, “When she’s ready? She made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with you all. Why do you all think she owes you her attention and friendship after everything you did? You hurt her, yet here you all are acting like you’re the injured party!” “We are the injured party! Marinette’s little pity party ‘poor me’ attention whore act cost us our careers! She’s being overdramatic like she always is and now WE’RE suffering because she couldn’t take a little teasing,” Alya yelled with her classmates voicing their agreement. Everyone in the studio froze. The PR representative was shaking his head, while everyone else was in shock. The former Dupont students realized their mistake and quickly tried to backtrack only to be cut off by Nadja, “We are done. I will not let you use my coworkers or me to harass that girl anymore! You clearly cannot see the error of your ways and blame her for the misfortune you brought on yourselves. I may not be at Lois Lane’s level of journalism, but I am not a fool, and I will not be a puppet for you to spread your pitiful self-gratifying apology. Let’s be honest, you all clearly don’t care about the hurt you caused Marinette, you just care about the damage the truth did to your reputations. Get out of my studio! Get out of this building!” And with that, the interview was cut.

Their interview was trending, but it wasn’t for the reasons they had hoped. If they had done anything, it was throwing gas onto the fire. People almost couldn’t believe how heartless and totally unaware they were, that was clear from the various social media posts. “WOW. You guys are making grey sweatshirt Influencer apology videos look more sincere.” “Ew. Just. Ew. I used to like Adrien Agreste but now? No way. Watch out Damian Wayne he’s coming to steal his punching bag back.” “Teasing? Teasing doesn’t leave MULTIPLE SCARS.” “That was so self-serving. I gotta admit I feel terrible for whoever they hired for PR. Talk about letting the true colors out.” “I gotta give Nadja Chamack some credit! I was not expecting that level of journalism and take-no-bullshit out of her!” Twitter was having a field day with the live interview, and the statement released by Marinette’s former tormenters apologizing for their behavior during the interview and to Marinette didn’t fair much better. It was safe to say they had lost whatever little goodwill they had with the public. Lila had taken a slightly different approach. She did her own interview claiming that she never wanted Marinette to be hurt physically and that it was their former classmates that took things way too far. She cried that she was so, so sorry and that all she had wanted was to impress her classmates who had much more exciting lives than she did. Lila revealed that she had a crush on Adrien as well and was jealous of Marinette whom she saw as a threat. She explained that she spread rumors about Marinette hoping that Adrien would believe them and think Marinette was a bully, but their classmates took it too far. Lila claimed that she wanted to reveal that she’d made it all up, but she was scared that their classmates would turn on her and hurt her. She expressed shock that her friends would throw her under the bus for their wrongdoings and had her own apology for Marinette. Her interview was met with a bit more sympathy until someone (We all know it was Tim) released the recordings of Lila threatening Marinette and expressing to her victim the delight she took in watching Marinette being hurt by their classmates. Suddenly Lila’s image of the ‘Girl who made a few bad choices trying to impress her classmates and crush’ was shattered, and on top of all the lawsuits her public lies on the Ladyblog brought her, she was shunned as well. Gabriel, trying to cut his losses, fired Lila, and released a statement claiming that she was the one giving him false information on Marinette. However, Lila was determined to go down fighting and revealed her ace: Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth, and his assistant was Mayura. She had somehow collected evidence linking him to it while she worked for him as a model and as an Akuma provider.

The outrage was gigantic, with Ladybug having to return to explain that she had tried to go to the police, but they had not believed her or the proof she had. Ladybug had hung onto that proof, such as the gigantic map she had of where all the Akumatizations happened, and where the purified butterflies returned to. The French Federal Government decided to investigate how the Parisian Government had handled Hawkmoth, and they also decided to investigate Ladybug. They had found a young woman (whose identity they kept anonymous) who had been forced into the role by chance but had thankfully turned out to be incredibly competent. They found that she had worked within the law and had tried on multiple occasions to work with the police, but they had rejected her. Once she had discovered who Hawkmoth was she went to them, only to get laughed out of the police station. Why she wasn’t believed was something that was still unknown to the Investigators, but they had found Ladybug to be a superb hero. She was cleared, and given full permission to operate in France, should she ever choose to return. Chat Noir did not fare as well and was thoroughly raked over the coals by the report that was released. He had started out alright, but as time went on he quickly began to act out. He prioritized flirting and trying to win Ladybug’s affection and would refuse to help or even show up when she didn’t humor him. The report also revealed that he had been harassing civilians, such as one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The designer had to explain that she had met Chat during an Akuma attack, and they’d become friends before his behavior worsened. Then after that, he’d harassed her on behalf of his other friend, Adrien Agreste. Twitter was on fire after this revelation, and #GiveMariABreak was trending.

No one knew who leaked Chat Noir’s identity, but theories were abundant. Some believed one of the investigators had loved ones who had suffered from Akuma attacks and Chat Noir’s behavior, and another group thought that the Waynes were behind it. They said that the Waynes were so enraged by the treatment their youngest’s fiancée had received at the hands of people who would have otherwise escaped punishment, that they decided to completely destroy her former tormentors. Considering Damian brought out the Wayne legal team, and Tim leaked the Lila Files, it was definitely possible that both theories could be true. What everyone did know, is that this outrage would go down in history. Adrien was still catching a lot of heat from the horrendous interview, which certainly did not help his case. It was quickly cleared up that he had no idea his father was Hawkmoth, and while officially on the report it said there was no evidence that he’d helped his father, the public speculation could not be stopped. In the chaos, photos were released of Ladybug landing on Marinette’s balcony and entering her room. These were brushed off as nothing surprising, surely the two women that were constantly harassed by the same man (even if they didn’t realize it) would find each other and start a support group. Adrien made a public plea for Ladybug to back him up and explain that he was a good hero, but it would seem that the Heroine of Paris had disappeared into hiding. It was clear that she had turned her back on him, just like he had turned on her all those years ago. He narrowly escaped getting charged along with Gabriel and Nathalie, but that didn’t stop the barrage of civil lawsuits he got hit with. The year ended with many trials, and the Wayne legal team proved why they were not to be messed with. Shortly after, a documentary was announced, to permanently document the fall of so many powerful people.

The documentary was a hit and contained all of the interviews that had taken place in the saga. The documentary was released at a party hosted by Bruce Wayne to celebrate his new Daughter-in-Law’s success, and it was met with rave reviews. But where was Marinette during the outcome of her interview? The designer had decided to step back from the spotlight until the mess had been resolved and hadn’t been seen in public since the initial interview. She was currently standing in the Wayne Manor with her husband, preparing to walk into the ballroom for her first public appearance as a Wayne. She was nervous. What if people began claiming that she’d only done this to take down a business rival? What if people accused her of making all of it up? She was brought back to reality by her husband, who pulled her into his arms. Damian gently kissed her forehead and whispered, “What’s bothering you, My Love?” Marinette had told him what had happened to her a year after the two became friends, and her bullies were lucky Bruce stopped him from going on a rampage. When he was watching his Darling’s interview with Lois at the Manor with the rest of his family, he could feel that fury reignite. It was also the first time his family learned about the abuse Marinette had endured (and suddenly his protectiveness made sense), so when he asked his father for the contacts for the Wayne legal team, Bruce had happily given them to him. Marinette took a deep breath, “I guess I’m just nervous, this is my first time being in public since everything came out and…” “And you’re worried that you’ll be walking into a den of lions.” Mari nodded, still amazed that he always seemed to know exactly what was wrong.Damian took a small step back and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, “My Jewel, you’ll be fine, I promise. The world believed you when you told them, you had strong evidence to support you, it’s illogical for them to turn on you now. Besides,” He gently poked her cheek, “Lila exposed Gabriel Agreste as Hawkmoth in a last-ditch effort to save herself. Think about it this way,” he gently twirled her around, admiring as the crystals she had hand sown into the stunning train on her dress sparkled. It was a tradition for every new member of the Wayne Family to debut in an all-black outfit, and Marinette had designed the most stunning dress in the Family’s history. “We attend the party, which is your debut as my gorgeous wife and I want to brag, and afterward we can go home, order some takeout, and binge-watch whatever you want on the couch with the Kwamii and the cats.” Damian would gladly and proudly admit that his wife brought out a side in him that he didn’t know he had, and Marinette was the only person he was regularly affectionate with. She was his star, and he wanted everyone to know how amazing she was. Marinette laughed, “Well I suppose we could do that; you drive quite the hard bargain Mr. Wayne.” The couple laughed, and all of Marinette’s worries evaporated as they entered the ballroom.

The young couple was met with hushed awe as they walked in, the wind from the open balcony doors catching parts of Marinette’s train. She looked ethereal in her gown, a stunning black dress with a long train that sparkled like stars in the void. The dress was form-fitting, with a galaxy of crystals wrapping around her body, coming to frame the neckline of her dress. It was an off-the-shoulder gown with a low V-neck. Marinette’s hair was done in an elegant bun, and the only jewelry she wore was her Miraculous, disguised as a pair of diamond earrings. The only other color she wore was blood-red lipstick. She looked like a goddess, elegant and regal, and held herself as if she was one. Despite the scars that littered her body, she stood proud, they were a part of her and would always be. The crowd began to murmur as the two youngest Waynes joined the rest of their family, “Is that Marinette? She looks spectacular!” “I heard she based parts of her dress off Princess Diana's Revenge Dress.” “I definitely believe that! She certainly looks like royalty!” “I’m surprised she’s showing her scars.” “Why wouldn’t she? The world should know what happened to her, and there’s no shame in being a survivor.” Kagami was right, no one doubts a victor’s scars. Cameras flashed, capturing her image from every angle as she talked with her parents and in-laws, and soon she was quickly whisked away by Damian to dance and mingle. She had to fight back a laugh, he loved letting everyone know that he had married this fantastic woman, despite the fact that the two bickered like cats and dogs when they were younger. He also knew that her old classmates were watching from their homes and wanted them to see the phoenix that had risen from the ashes. Damian wanted to drive the point home that while they had attempted to break Marinette, she was stronger. As the two danced and talked, the media had already begun crafting tomorrow’s newspapers. By the time the two had said their goodbyes and left the party for the night, the first article was out. ‘The Revenge Dress has a Successor: Marinette Wayne’s Revenge Look.’

#adrien salt #lila salt #marinette deserves better #maribat #class salt #gabriel salt #marinette dupain cheng #ml x dc #daminette #possibly triggering #read with caution

1K notes · View notes

sennamybeloved · 1 year

Text

★ — selfship kisses : an ask meme.

inspired by these two memes + a meme i saw on twitter! there are two ways to go about this specific ask meme: send me a number + a f/o (orr just a number if you prefer) and i'll create something based on the prompt, OR send me a f/o and i'll use a random number generator to randomize a prompt for them! either way, this ask meme is intended to encourage creativity in the form of art and writing. please practice reblog karma & feel free to tag me, the creator, in whatever you make!!

1 - lips

2 - cheek

3 - nose

4 - forehead

5 - crown of the head

6 - eyelid

7 - neck

8 - collarbone

9 - shoulder

10 - back

11 - chest

12 - stomach

13 - temple

14 - arm

15 - wrist

16 - palm

17 - back of hand

18 - fingers/knuckles

19 - on top of a scar/injury

20 - first kiss

21 - quick kiss

22 - slow/passionate kiss

23 - accidental

24 - blowing a kiss

25 - good morning

26 - goodnight

27 - hello

28 - goodbye

29 - in public

30 - in private

31 - while laughing

32 - through tears

33 - apology

34 - distraction

35 - to celebrate something

36 - in the rain

37 - out of jealousy

38 - reunion

39 - wedding day

40 - while one is asleep

41 - while one is sick

42 - suddenly

43 - during an argument

44 - out of habit

45 - while one is wearing lipstick

46 - as a reward

47 - during a conversation

48 - playfully

49 - sleepily

50 - under the stars

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。・✭・.・✫・

#had to include the last one to stick with my brand :D #PLS SEND ME SOME + PLS REBLOG + PLS TAG ME IN UR CREATIONS RAHHHHHH #lotus rambles #self ship community #self shipping #self ship #selfship #f/o community #self ship imagine #self ship ask meme #self ship ask game #✦ * · ˚ — ask games .#lotus’s stuff #f/o imagine #f/o x s/i #imagine your f/o #self insert #self insert community #* ★ / ask games .

341 notes · View notes

divinegrey · 1 year

Text

ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀᴄ / ꜰᴀᴅᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

well. i got thrown into a spiral because i saw a fanart on twitter and wrote a piece based off of it. please check out the art here and send the artist some kudos, it's a brilliant piece.

btw i did not beta read this so if you see mistakes no you didn't ok bye!

prompt: fade has nightmares she cannot wake up from. you're there to break her out of it.

words: 1800

warnings: mentions of nightmares, angst and comfort, dad cypher

It’s not uncommon for you to be up at the odd hours of the night. You’re one of the few people at the Protocol who simply functions that way— you’re a necessity for the night shift, always available for the emergency missions that call for the total cover of darkness. You’re much like your mentor, Cypher, in that sense. It’s always you and him in the camera room, him tinkering his trips and you working on your traps.

So, it’s also not uncommon for you and him to walk back to your rooms together once your time in the wee hours of the night have concluded. Tonight is a night like any other, moving quietly down the hallway. The dorms are quiet, with most of the agents asleep or away on longer missions. It’s peaceful.

That is, until you hear the sound of what appears to be muffled… whimpering? No, that can’t be right. Though Cypher keeps walking, you pause, staring at the door— you’re passing the Initiator hallway to get to the Sentinel dorms, and the owner of the room behind the door is none other than Fade.

Cypher too stops in his steps. You look at him as you always do, silently seeking an explanation. He sighs, shaking his head. The orbital sockets of his mask widen, before he walks over to the door, pressing his palm to the reader. You’re about to mention that his hand shouldn’t work, before the front face of the palm reader flips up to reveal a keypad— you’re grateful for your vision in the dimly lit hallway. 209375, a number that you can’t think of to mean anything— perhaps one randomly generated, knowing Cypher’s preference to attach no emotion to passwords.

The door opens, and Cypher steps inside the room. You quickly follow, waiting in the doorframe to see Cypher sit down on the bed. Beneath a single sheet with shadows dancing on the walls, Fade squirms, deep in the throes of what is very clearly a nightmare.

Cypher murmurs, head bowed, “She hardly ever sleeps well. Always troubled, this one. I can tell.”

You frown, watching Fade grip Cypher’s hand once he extends it, even as deep in sleep as she is. He strokes her knuckles, bare-handed, an honor for you and for Fade, it seems. Gloves are his thing.

“There is nothing we can do but hope she wakes up,” says Cypher, laying Fade’s hand in his lap. He places it against his forehead, whispering something in Arabic to her. He steps away, tucking the blanket over Fade. Cypher walks past you, and you shut the door. Cypher takes a moment, then sighs. “She will wake up. Her mental fortitude outmatches both you and I.”

Though you wish to ask more, ask how to help, you find yourself speechless for the time being. Cypher begins moving, so you do the same.

But you look over your shoulder one last time, to the shadows that creep beneath Fade’s door.

— — —

The nights are even quieter without Cypher around. His presence was required for an overnight mission somewhere in the streets of Portugal, following up on a lead with Sova and Harbor. It leaves you making the rounds by yourself, stifling a yawn into your hand.

Once again, as you pass through the Initiator hallway, there’s that quiet groaning and whimpering from beyond Fade’s door. Fade is in there, all alone and by herself. You understand Fade’s tendencies as a loner, but still— no one should have to be alone when they’re suffering a nightmare. You’ve gone to Cypher more times than you can count, of course he would look after Fade too.

Without hesitation, you go to the palm reader. Sure, your hand might not do the same thing, but the mechanism for the reading was awfully familiar. Too much time watching Cypher play with his toys has lead you to a keen intuition; just the right amount of pressure and—

Pop!

You punch in the code— 209375— and slip inside, the locking mechanism sliding back into place. Fade is curled up on the bed, her back to you and her hands clenched around her head. Shadows mixed with red tendrils creep on the walls, sliding toward your feet with a coldness that sends goosebumps over your arms. You swear you hear whispers; the Nightmare communing with you, maybe, in a language you do not understand.

It does little to deter you. Cypher had warned you, days after you witnessed him comfort Fade in her sleep. She cannot wake up the same way you and I do.

Fuck that.

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. You’re going to try, at least, because no one should suffer alone.

You kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath your weight. Your hand on Fade’s shoulder does little, save for the shadows that snake up your arm, circling your wrist to keep it pinned to her.

“Fade, I’m right here,” you say, moving closer. She shakes, crying out— even in her sleep, her hand moves to cover her mouth, drowning out the sounds of pain as if the demon in her mind is hurting her physically. Her body twitches, the same movements after being struck by bullets. You swallow the dryness in your throat, pushing on. “Fade— Hazal, if you can hear me, I’m right here. I’m not leaving until you’re awake.”

A whimper. The movements subside, only for a moment, before the shadows in the room grow, angered. The coldness around your wrist burns.

“Hazal, you’re not alone,” you say, your voice teetering on a whisper that is still louder than the ones echoing in your mind. “The Nightmare can’t hurt you. Not here. Not with me.”

Fade’s eyes shoot open, her body twisting upward. Shadows pour from her eyes, leaking down like blood that leaves nary a trace on her pale skin, the irises of both her eyes a shade of red that glows crimson in the dark. She scrambles to get a hold of you and you do the same, wrapping your arms around her as fast as you can, anchoring her back to reality.

She’s limp, her body aching and tired from the nightmares that still have her in their grips. You cup the back of her head, stroking the sweat-damp hair.

When you first met her, you were beyond terrified of her shadows, of the Nightmares she brought to life from her fingers.

Now?

They hardly scare you at all. They’re fucking terrifying, but Fade’s safety is overwhelming— you tighten your grip on her, forcing her breathing to center from the panicked hyperventilation into a slow, steady rhythm. Her hands, weak on your waist, begin to twitch.

“You’re almost done fighting, Hazal, and I’ll be here to catch you when you wake up. Just wake up, please,” you whisper, coldness sizzling down your back from the shadows that trickle down her cheeks and chin, the physical manifestation of the demons that haunt the corners of her room and her mind, ensnaring her sleep in their clawed hands. You exhale, warm breath on her ear, another plead, “Wake up, Hazal.”

Hazal inhales a breath, and the darkness of the room fades, bearing way to light that had once been shrouded. A lamp illuminates the room, allowing you to see the deep gouges in the metal, made by something so very inhuman— near the bed on the wall, some on the floor, a gash on the ceiling.

Her voice speaks, raspy and deep. “You shouldn’t be here.”

And yet, Hazal grips your waist as if she’s terrified you’ll run away.

“I promised I’d be here when you woke up,” you say, pulling your head back. Fade levels her eyes with you— normal, ragged and worn with sleep, but normal. She sighs, resting her forehead against yours. The closeness allows you to hear the pounding of her heart. Frantic, but alive and present.

“You are an idiot,” says Hazal, and you snort. “And yet, you woke me up. I heard you, from beyond the shadows, the same way I hear Cypher from time to time, but you… you pulled me out.”

“Sometimes being an insomniac has some benefits,” you whisper, laughing softly.

Hazal nods. “Don’t I know it.” She swallows, straightening up. Her hands are shaking as she pulls them away. She’s hesitant to meet your eyes. “You can leave now, if you wish.”

“Nah, I think I’m gonna crash here for the night,” you reply. There’s a smile on your face when Hazal looks up, the tiniest shard of hope. You bump your shoulder gently to hers. “If that’s alright with you, Bountyhunter.”

“Give me five minutes to shower and change the sheets,” Hazal says, standing up from the bed. But, as she does, she stumbles. You grab her by her hips, steadying her. A grateful nod from her, and she goes on. As she showers in the conjoining bathroom, you change the sheets, quickly and easily, leaving no room for error.

Hazal returns, freshly washed, to you in pajamas that are distinctly not your own, but she doesn’t put up a fight, nor does she comment on it beside the slight tug on the black boxers, a subtle smile on her face. You crawl into bed with her, content with the warm light of the lamp keeping the room shielded from the night.

She appears hesitant, eyes flickering back and forth from the ceiling and you.

“Can I—?”

“Of course,” you say, opening your arms. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

Without further question, Hazal tucks herself into your arms— it’s a new side of her that you’ve seen, a secret known only by you, her, and the moon shining through the window. She lets out a long exhale into your chest, finally, finally relaxing all of her muscles that had been tense only moments before, sinking into your embrace.

“Nightmares ain’t got shit against me,” you say, getting a muffled snort from her. “I’ll be here. Any night you need me.”

Hazal breaks your brain in the form of a kiss pressed against your collarbone. “And for that, I am grateful. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Cypher’s going to be pissed that I broke the locks to get in.”

— — —

The door to the room creaks open; you’re awake, you have been all night making sure Hazal has slept, and slept she has, soundly and without a single twitch in your arms. You turn your head to the entrance.

Cypher stands there with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looks over you, then Fade, and simply shakes his head with amusement shining in the orbitals of his mask. He raises his cup to you. “Proud of you, habibi. Do keep her safe.”

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” you reply, running your hands through her hair. Cypher closes the door, cloaking the room in silence. You turn your eyes to the sun just beginning to rise through the window, and smile.

You can rest now; you think you deserve it, after all, and rest you do, comfortable with the warmth of Hazal molded to your body, sleeping without a single shadow of darkness.

~~~~~ A/N: thanks for reading!!! make sure to go appreciate the artwork linked at the top, and see you next time!

#fade x reader #fade valorant x reader #hazal eyletmez #fade valorant #fade #valorant x reader #fade imagines #valorant imagines #valorant fanfiction #valorant

352 notes · View notes

avinnypencilman · 5 months

Text

Them

(Based on a prompt i saw on Twitter where tou have to draw two of your favourite characters doing that)

#godzilla #kaiju #skullgirls #skullgirls fanart #skullgirls peacock

67 notes · View notes

911buddieweek · 7 months

Text

Hi everyone! I saw that there hasn't been a Buddie Week in a few years and that the account hosting this hasn't been active. I tried to get in contact but they never responded. Weeks dedicated to ships were always my favorites in different fandoms, so I decided, why not try to host it myself?

I am aware this can me stressful to do on my own, but I am giving it a chance! Besides, it'll be in 2024 so I'll have time to prepare.

That said, I want to ask YOU for some help figure out when this week should take place. This will happen in different polls.

First: today (November 3rd) this post will contain the first poll which season this week should be held:

Based on which season has the most votes, I will do another poll which month would be your favorite choice (unless December wins). Then when a month is chosen, there will be a poll which week should be used.

I might also do a poll which form of the week. Personally I use Monday-Sunday, but I know there are also people who use Sunday as the first day of the week.

Once we have chosen a week, we can start doing prompts! A form will be up for several weeks where you can suggest prompts. Then the most sent + my own favorites get put in a new form where you can vote.

There will be a poll to see if you want alternate prompts, multiple prompts a day to choose from, like @whumptober does for their events, or only 7 promps - 1 for each day. Then based on the amount of prompts needed, the ones with the most votes will be put in Buddie Week 2024.

Buddie week is for everyone!

You can do anything: Fics, gifsets, collages, video editing, picture editing, podcasts, playlists, podfics, art, poems. Whatever you want to create, you can do it!

EXCEPT THE USE OF AI IS FORBIDDEN!

AI technology steals from fellow artists and therefore it is against the rules to use AI to create something for Buddie Week.

I hope this is all the information you need to get excited! And I really hope to see people join to celebrate Buddie for a week!

Please share! You have my permission to share this post on other media like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Discord, anything. I hope to reach as many people as I can!

63 notes · View notes

fungal-skin · 1 month

Text

saw an art prompt on twitter based on this pic that’s about you and your online sonas/fursonas so i decided to give it a try! i don’t have any cool sona (yet) so i substituted them for my ocs. drew us as jesters because i am silly i guess

#artists on tumblr #art #my art #doodle #original character #furry #furry art #furry oc #furry fandom #oc #oc art #art prompt #cartoon art #cartoon style #doodle art #digital artwork #digital art

21 notes · View notes

cavalierious-whim · 5 months

Text

Pants Down, Dicks Out, and No Regrets (ZhongChi)

Part of 'Etched in Stone'.

Having finally fucked for the first time, Zhongli and Childe can't keep their hands off each other. Too bad they get constantly interrupted.

This was a sponsored prompt from my spreadsheet. Read here on AO3. You can also, follow me on Twitter, and here on Patreon!

Zhongli cannot keep his hands off of him.

Childe is not complaining. Childe is also no different, fully embracing what Katya has affectionally dubbed the ‘honeymoon period’. She knew the moment she saw him post impromptu vacation in Zhongli’s teapot; post confession, and spending days in Zhongli’s sheets, tracing scars and mapping every inch of each other’s bodies. Making love with Zhongli has pulled Childe apart and forged him into a new man.

And therein lies the problem—they can’t keep their hands off of each other.

Zhongli has always been level-headed and the voice of reason. Except for now. Or yesterday. And no doubt tomorrow.

“Hey, wait—” Childe’s protest melts into a moan as Zhongli reaches down and squeezes his half-hard cock.

Impossible. Zhongli is so impossible when he’s like this because Childe is unable to say no. He’s needy and desperate for his touch, legs spreading instantly to make room for his hand.

“Darling,” laughs Zhongli against his ear, warm breath puffing against it. His tongue dips out to trace the shell, and Childe relaxes against the rough stone wall that he’s currently boxed against.

They came for takeout. Xiangling is typically speedy but backed up on orders, so they are tucked away around the corner. Zhongli pounced the moment they found themselves relatively out of sight in the cover of the alleyway.

“We—can’t.” They’re in public. Semi-public. Does the side alley count as such? No one is looking or likely to turn in this direction which is the reason Zhongli is so bold.

Zhongli traces the bulge of Childe’s cock through his trousers from base to tip. “A tease,” says Zhongli, nipping at his jaw with those wicked fangs, dragging them over his oversensitive flesh.

Childe would let Zhongli fuck him right there. He will. “I need you,” he hisses.

“Say no more,” cuts in Zhongli, his fingers tracing the waistband of his clothing.

Just as the button is undone and Childe feels the heat of Zhongli’s fingertips scraping through his pubic hair, Xiangling careens around the corner with several garbage bags in hand. She pauses. Her gaze drops to where Zhongli’s hand is down Childe’s trousers. He makes no attempt to move it.

Xiangling’s expression turns sharp. “Oh,” she says with a grin. “Well, would you look at that? Did the two of you finally shack up together? Normally I’d say I didn’t see anything but I do believe this means Lumine owes me some Mora.” She drops the trash by the waste bin in the alley before turning on her heel and making herself scarce.

Childe is mortified. “Stop—stop!” he hisses as Zhongli bursts into laughter, still intent on marking up his neck. Childe yanks at his hair and Zhongli finally relents.

“Apologies,” he says, pressing one last kiss to his throat. He is not remotely sorry. Childe knows he now sports several bruises, claims that are as clear as day. Zhongli brushes his knuckles against his flagging cock before pulling his hand from Childe’s trousers.

He’s sweet enough to refasten them. Childe pinches the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. “A bet? Zhongli, they made a bet?”

“As others often do.” He tips Childe’s face toward his by the chin. His golden eyes are filled with mirth as he tips forward for a proper kiss against his mouth. “Our food is likely ready by now.”

“I don’t—Gods, Zhongli, I can’t look her in the face.”

Childe does, though, taking his walk of shame through Wanmin with a semblance of grace, far too hungry to let their lunch go to waste.

This time, they are, at least, in Childe’s apartment.

Rarely do they come here. Childe prefers the lived-in mess of Zhongli’s flat or the archaic quietness of his teapot. His own home is too neat, too pristine due to old military habits burned into his blood. Childe’s home lacks character because he rarely uses it for anything other than the occasional nap.

The moment they step through the front door, Childe is on him like a cat on cream. Zhongli’s back hits the door with a thud. He groans as Childe cups his face and kisses him stupid, swallowing his breaths, and shoving his tongue into Zhongli’s mouth.

“I need you,” whines Childe. He nips at Zhongli’s mouth which only makes the old god purr in delight. “Gods, I need you.”

They make it about three more feet before Childe sinks to his knees, unable to wait. He yanks Zhongli’s trousers open and frees his cock, licking a stripe from the base to the tip. Zhongli’s head slams against the wall. “Ajax,” he cries out, moaning as Childe swallows around the head. His hands sink into his hair, pulling at it, and Childe delights in the way his scalp burns.

Neither of them hears the key in the lock, far too lost in each other. Zhongli’s cock is snug in his throat, Childe’s nose buried in the coarse hair at his groin when the door opens.

Katya. Childe chokes in surprise, sputtering around Zhongli’s dick as he tries to pull off.

Everything is slow-motion. Zhongli tries to guide him off, wincing as Childe’s teeth catch the delicate skin of his length. Katya blinks, her eyebrows arched in surprise. In her arms are a stack of folders. Right. She isn’t used to him being there in the early evening and often drops reports off for him to look at later.

“That was… impressive. Sir.”

Childe wishes that the ground would swallow him up entirely.

Katya brushes past them as if Zhongli’s cock isn’t hanging out of his trousers. She drops the pile of paperwork on the entry table and then shuffles by with one very pointed glance from Childe’s mouth to Zhongli’s dick—which Zhongli doesn’t hide. Zhongli’s hand still rests against his head, thumbing through his bangs. Then Katya smirks, gives them a mock salute, and takes her leave.

The moment the door clicks shut behind her, Childe rests his forehead against Zhongli’s thigh. Embarrassment burns through him, white-hot and not in a pleasurable way. “I’m revoking her spare key.”

Zhongli laughs, combing through his hair, but Childe refuses to see the humor in what has been an absolute boner killer.

Weeks. It’s been weeks since they’ve properly fucked. Childe has all but hit his limit. And Zhongli has too—he can tell. Zhongli is just older, wiser, and better at pretending to be okay. But Childe feels the way his kisses linger and how he holds his elbow in a slightly too-tight grip.

Even Zhongli’s patience is wearing thin.

Katya pities him. “A vacation,” she says to him before stealing the stack of reports that are half a foot high on his desk. “Three days and two nights. I’ve already filed the paperwork and booked you a room at Wangshu Inn as well.”

Childe stills, his pen hovering over the paper he was about to sign. Oh, bless her. Katya knows—she always knows. He never did revoke her spare key privileges for his home and clearly, that’s worked in his favor. Or she pities him. (Both; it’s definitely both).

He manages to jot dot a squiggle that resembles his name, then he stands. “Katya,” he says, “I could kiss you.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Please don’t. And really, this is for the good of everyone else. We don’t want a repeat of a few days ago.”

Right. Zhongli came by to drop off lunch and Pantalone paid an exceedingly rare visit to the bank, only to find Childe hoisted against the wall, his trousers around one leg, and both their cocks squeezed tight in Zhongli’s hand. Needless to say, a happy ending did not come. Zhongli was, as he always seems to be, amused but Childe maintains that the resulting report wasn’t worth his dick shriveling into nothing in the heat of the moment.

“Is he still angry about that?”

“I do believe that the HR report is meant as a tease. If you were to read what Sir Pantalone wrote—”

“Absolutely not.” Because Childe can imagine.

Katya’s mouth curls into a smile. “Get out of here. I’ll handle the rest of this.”

Childe doesn’t need to be told twice.

“Finally,” says Childe the moment the lock is turned. “Alone. In a room. That is locked.”

Zhongli laughs as they tumble into the bed. “I do like that I can take my time with you this time,” he says into Childe’s ear, nipping at the shell of it.

Childe is too keyed up, too desperate. “Later,” he says, already tugging at Zhongli’s trousers. “It’s been too long since we’ve properly fucked. I need—”

“Darling.” Zhongli hangs over him, his gaze warm and affectionate. “Patience—”

“Is a virtue, yeah, yeah. Do you know what else is? Your dick in my ass.”

Zhongli’s face crinkles. “So needy,” he replies, tugging his shirt from his trousers.

Childe lies there and watches as he strips, revealing inch-by-inch of flesh. And Zhongli may tease him—but he’s desperate too. His shoulder reveals that the joint bleeds into charcoal. Zhongli is struggling to maintain his form which spells out a night of desperate lovemaking.

“Com’re,” slurs Childe, already drowning in the heady feel of Geo thick in the air. Zhongli goes so easily, warm against him once their clothing is fully shed.

They roll around in the sheets like horny teenagers, hands wandering, mouths latched onto each other, suckling. Zhongli is wicked; he bites at Childe’s mouth, his neck, the length of his collarbone. All the way down his front before licking the length of Childe’s cock.

And oh, he must be gone. Zhongli. Geo chokes the space as antlers glitter against his dark hair. Childe pets the length of one, pulling a deep groan from Zhongli’s mouth. Nothing is quick enough; Zhongli’s fingers trace his cock, the seam of his balls, the smooth skin underneath long enough that Childe whines impatiently.

“Please,” he mutters as a thumb settles against his hole, and Zhongli chuckles as he sucks a mark against the base of his cock.

“Ajax,” he says, teeth dragging over Childe’s skin, raising gooseflesh, “it’s been too long.”

Yes. Exactly. That’s why Childe needs his fingers now. “Old lizard,” he hisses, waving his hand to coat Zhongli’s fingers in Hydro, hoping that it paints a picture. “Please.”

“How you beg for me,” mutters Zhongli before his tongue traces from the base of Childe’s cock to the tip. “I love to hear it. And I love you.”

“I’m—oh, fuck, that’s—” Childe loses his words as a finger sinks deep into his ass. Zhongli hums as he laps at the tip of his cock, sweeping away the dripping precome for a quick taste. He looks handsome. Childe could die at the sight of him, this god between his legs, licking across the tip of his cock as if part of a feast.

Zhongli crooks his finger, pulling at his insides. A second finger joins the first, spreading his rim wide before sinking all the way to the last knuckles. Childe arches in the bed. He drops his hips, trying to ride his fingers, to force them against that spot that’ll leave him howling. Zhongli knows. He gives him a wicked smirk that should set off alarm bells.

Childe’s cock is swiftly engulfed in wet-hot heat as Zhongli seals his mouth around his dick. He bobs his head, tongue flat against the underside. Then he pulls off, fingers curling around Childe’s girth for a quick stroke. “I would like for you to fuck my mouth.”

A ridiculous way of asking for such a thing. Too neat, too proper. But Childe loves this insufferable part of Zhongli, so he just nods and tugs his face back to his cock, crying out as it’s swallowed back down. Zhongli is too good at this, his mouth stretched around his dick.

Childe can’t stop staring. He brushes back his bangs. Zhongli stares back with a liquid gold gaze, his nose pressed against his groin, the tip of Childe’s cock lodged deep. Childe imagines the bulge of it, just below the apple of his throat.

Zhongli’s nostrils flare. He chokes slightly when Childe rolls his hips gently in an experimental thrust. And then he moans, a debauched sound the bubbles around Childe’s cock before hanging in the air.

Gods. Childe presses deeper. His fingers curl around Zhongli’s antlers which only pulls another moan from deep within Zhongli’s throat as Childe yanks his face into him. Tight, hot heat. Childe melts into the sheets as Zhongli swallows around him.

It’s been long enough that Childe is annoyingly close to his end. Just at the feel of Zhongli’s mouth and the way that he chokes around him, and his fingers pulling at Childe’s rim. Even Zhongli is nearly gone too, the room glowing with his power. His claws dig into the meat of Childe’s thigh. He moans and moans as his form threatens to chip away.

“Fuck, Zhongli.” Childe lifts his hips, thrusting deep into Zhongli’s mouth. “Fuck, your mouth. You—you’re—”

The air crackles. Childe fucks Zhongli’s mouth, holding his face there firmly. And Zhongli—Zhongli is eager in the way he swallows him down. He curls his fingers inside Childe, the tips finally sweeping over his prostate. Childe jerks and cries out. Hydro slashes through the room as Childe’s Vision flares, glittering as a Crystalize reaction sparks.

And then Xiao materializes in the corner, his spear aloft in one hand and ready to pounce. “Master—”

Everything comes to a standstill. Childe yelps, scrambling for the sheets to cover himself. But Zhongli—Zhongli does nothing, holding his hips firmly against the bed. His gaze flickers over to Xiao and then back to Childe, ignoring the intrusion.

“Zhongli!”

Xiao gapes, his face beet-red as he shudders with shock. Right. He lives there, doesn’t he? And this room is just below that top level where he often lurks. Zhongli just smiles, amused, and then finally pulls out his fingers. He shifts onto his knees, yanking Childe against him.

“Are you—”

“Do you want to be interrupted?” Zhongli drags his hand down Childe’s front, making it apparent that he’s more than willing to fuck him in front of Xiao. “Haven’t you been complaining about how long it’s been? Aren’t you needy? Ajax, I am unwilling to let this opportunity slip away when you are so ready and willing.”

Childe’s gaze slips back to the corner of the room to find it blessedly empty. Xiao winked away in their distraction, embarrassed beyond measure. Childe digs his heel against the small of Zhongli’s back. “You could’ve told me he was gone. Gods, I thought—”

“Thought what?” Zhongli leans forward until his hair frames their faces. “That I’d fuck you despite him being there?” Zhongli’s heat is oppressive as he nips at Childe’s jawline. “What better a way to claim you? If they all knew, they’d leave us alone.” Then he laughs, a deep and sultry thing. “But no, darling. Seeing you like this—that is a sight for myself alone. Xiao knows his place.”

Childe swallows thickly. The implication of that churns the pleasure in his gut. He forgets just how Zhongli can be, caught between wanting to parade him around and hiding him for Zhongli alone to see. Zhongli’s teeth drag along the sensitive skin of his throat. He tilts Childe’s hips back and presses the tip of his cock to his needy hole.

Finally. Finally. Childe is so loose and pliant that Zhongli sinks his cock in with one fluid thrust.

Perfect. So full. Childe arches in the bed, crying out Zhongli’s name. He curses, immediately moving, immediately rolling his hips and trying to fuck against him. It isn’t sweet and soft lovemaking—that can come later after the high and rush of finally coming together in the absence of sex for weeks.

Zhongli groans and pulls Childe onto his cock, holding onto his hip. His other hand splays against Childe’s belly, palm flat underneath his navel. Feeling. Imagining it—something. “Ajax,” he murmurs, the utterance of his name warm and heady. Childe loves that look on his face, that half-lidded, licentious gaze that feels eons old. Honed in on him, sharp like a blade, cutting through Childe’s soul the same way that Zhongli’s cock carves a home in his insides.

The wet slap of skin, the feel of Zhongli’s balls slapping against his ass. Zhongli presses Childe’s thighs back and looks, tracing his thumb over his rim where it's stretched around his cock. “Perfect. So, so perfect. Worth the wait.”

It is. Childe yelps as Zhongli nails his prostate. “There, there—”

His cock twitches. It aches, leaking precome all over his stomach in a dribbling trail. Zhongli looks at him like a man starved as he fucks him hard and fast. Childe needed this, to be stuffed full and wrung out, to feel Zhongli’s thick cock in his throat. To be pulled apart by Zhongli’s words and the way that his claws dig into his skin. Later Zhongli will put him back together with those skilled hands when he’s nothing but putty. But for now—this is what Childe wants.

“Zhongli, I’m close. I’m so, so—” The heat in his gut is white-hot. Childe wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it, whining at the overwrought sensation. He’s shaking, desperate for release. Zhongli slows the roll of his hips and leans close, pressing his nose into his nape.

He inhales. Zhongli moans, kissing Childe’s jaw, his tongue snaking out to lap at his sweaty skin. “I love you,” he says as he rocks into Childe, addicted to saying it. “Practice,” he’d said a few weeks back. “I’m merely practicing it.” Only he isn’t, he’s just drunk on the thought of claiming such a thing so openly. Zhongli bats Childe’s hand away and takes hold of his cock instead. “Ajax, please,” he begs, as if he needs to for Childe to finish.

One stroke of Childe’s cock has him tipping over the edge. He spills into Zhongli’s hand with a cry, thighs tensing around his waist. Zhongli fucks it through him with languid punches of his dick. He traces the tip of Childe’s length with his thumb and then peels his hand back for a taste, making a show of dragging his tongue around his soiled knuckles.

“Another?” he asks, his mouth curled in a wicked grin.

Childe’s throat is so dry that he croaks. “I—no, not now. Not—” Any other time, perhaps. He loves to let Zhongli pull him to the edge over and over until he’s coming dry. But not now. Right now, Childe just wants to cling to him and soak up his warmth.

Zhongli reads him like a book. His gaze softens and his grip on Childe’s cock loosens, but a relief and a detriment. “Darling boy,” he says. “Okay, I see. Worry not.” He focuses on fucking Childe for his own completion instead, rocking into his ass until Zhongli’s breath catches and he’s spilling searing warmth inside of him.

All in all, it doesn’t last long. They rut together for a surprisingly short time. But it feels like ages. Childe lies spent in the bed, a rubbery, loose-limbed mess. Zhongli hangs over him and brushes his bangs back before dipping close to kiss his brow.

“Fuck,” says Childe finally. “I—Gods. That better not happen again.”

Zhongli hisses as he pulls out, a soft whine spilling from his lips. He flops to the bed beside Childe, ignoring the mess. “Xiao?” he asks.

“No—” Childe winces. “I mean, yes. And Katya too, but it’ll definitely happen again whether we want it to or not. I just meant going weeks without a proper fuck.”

“Making love—”

“It’s okay to call it fucking, Zhongli.”

Zhongli laughs and pulls him close, burying his face into the pillow next to Childe’s ear. It’s a little awkward. His antlers are in the way because Zhongli hasn’t yet regained his composure. His fingers trace idle patterns against Childe’s side. “Towels,” mutters Zhongli, his voice slightly slurred.

He must be tired. He’s fastidious when it comes to cleaning and Zhongli doesn’t actually need sleep, but he’s already dozing against Childe’s shoulder. Childe hums softly as he pulls the sheets up. “It’s fine.”

“The sheets, Ajax…” But Zhongli’s voice tapers off.

“It’s a hotel. For once, we have no responsibilities here. In fact, we’re on vacation—the both of us.”

Zhongli blinks at him slowly, blearily, his expression lax and exhausted. “We’ll have to thank Miss Ekaterina,” he says softly.

“Yeah, but later. For now rest, and then you can do whatever it is you wanted to do to me earlier.”

That garners a reaction. Zhongli’s eyes wrinkle around the edges, glinting with mirth. “Oh? Do tell me Ajax—what is it you think I wanted to do?”

“Do you not understand the word rest?”

“I do not need rest.”

“But I do. You did a number on me. And, my dick needs to recover from that look of horror Xiao shot in my direction.”

A soft chuckle from Zhongli. “He is unused to seeing me so compromised.”

“Compromised,” repeats Childe slowly.

“When it comes to you? Always. I don’t indulge with others in such sordid ways. Remember the bank? The alleyway? The—”

Childe pushes at Zhongli’s face playfully. “I get it. I make your old bones all horny.”

Zhongli brushes his knuckles over the rise of Childe’s cheek. “As it were, we didn’t intend to not fuck—” Childe bursts into laughter because it sounds absurd coming from his mouth. “—it was merely bad luck. Nonetheless, it worked out.” Zhongli kisses the tip of his nose and Childe all but melts. “And, as promised, I’ll pull you apart later,” continues Zhongli. “Now that the fucking is out of the way, I’ll—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Stop saying it like that.”

They kiss again, all tongues and teeth, and wandering hands as they come down from their highs. Zhongli moans into his mouth. Sweeps a hand down the length of Childe’s leg as he tugs it over his hip, a little awkward because they still lay on their sides.

“I thought we were resting,” says Zhongli as if he didn’t start this.

“This is resting,” counters Childe.

And it is—it’s soft and sweet and lazy. Zhongli laughs into his mouth, tongue sweeping across his. And that’s what they do until they're wasted in the sheets, too tired for anything more than short pecks against each other’s lips.

“Worth the wait,” said Zhongli earlier when his cock was settled so deep that Childe saw stars.

Yes, thinks Childe. Worth the wait and more.

But. They have to talk to Katya and Xiao. And Childe is definitely revoking key privileges to his home.

#Cavalierious Fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin #zhongchi #zhongli/childe #genshin smut

32 notes · View notes

lonesome-witching · 8 months

Text

The World Can Know

I have gotten the request to write a celebrity AU by @rabbitofdeath-atcastleaarrggh based on this post by @autismbarbie (I think). And I have to say I absolutely loved that post so much that I was a little excited to write this.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

It had all started with a drunken tweet. She shouldn’t have been drunk. It was only 2 pm and she was supposed to be working. But she had finished the last song for her album, and somebody had pulled out a bottle of champagne and now she was sipping lukewarm beers in the recording booth and scrolling through twitter.

It was then that Robin Buckley saw a picture of Nancy Wheeler. It wasn’t that she had never seen her before, she had seen Nancy everywhere. A couple of days ago, she and Steve had gone to see one of her movies. And Robin had returned the next day to watch it again. So, she knew of Nancy Wheeler. She had seen her all dolled up in movies and on red carpets. She had spent an embarrassing long time staring at her in that flowy top with her dark red lips at the Paris fashion week just a few nights ago.

The only difference was that all of those times Robin hadn’t been drunk, and therefore had been able to refrain herself from making her tiny obsession public knowledge. But this time as she noticed the picture of Nancy Wheeler in a simple blue shirt, purple cap and sunglasses walking in New York, the same streets Robin walked every single day, she was drunk.

Her fingers were typing out the words before her mind had registered them. Her thumb only hesitated a second before posting the tweet.

Literally dont FUCKIGN talk to me if u r not Nancy wheeler btw!!! dont even say hi i’ll be pissed

She regretted that tweet that same night when a text from Steve told her to check twitter. The memory of her own embarrassment came flooding back and the only reason she opened her account was with the pure intention of deleting the entire thing. That was her intention until she noticed the notification. It was a simple reply, just a simple hi with a smiley face behind it. The main reason Robin nearly went into cardiac arrest was that it was from Nancy freaking Wheeler.

Talking with Nancy had been surprisingly easy. They had hung out a few times, going for walks after dark and eating take out in Nancy’s luxurious apartment. Robin had even invited Nancy to the recording studio after a mix up with the vocals forced her to drop everything. They often talked until the early morning hours, laughing and crying like kids at their first sleepover.

Now that Robin was able to see Nancy in real life it became obvious that the pictures and movies didn’t do her justice. That she looked best when she woke up with her hair all messed up and her eyes only half open.

It also became obvious that Robin was falling in love with her. Robin had difficulty not staring or stuttering when they hung out. She would always trip over her words whenever she tried to give Nancy a genuine compliment. And when Nancy returned the favor her cheeks would heat up and turn bright red. The words ‘I’m in love with Nancy Wheeler’ might as well have been tattooed on her forehead.

As the months crawled forward Robin and Nancy hung out more and more. Even when Nancy had to go to LA for some promotion material for her newest premiere, they called every night. Robin would listen attentively to Nancy chattering about her day as she stayed up way too late talking the other girl to sleep.

It almost felt like they were dating. Almost.

Robin tried her best not to dream about that possibility. After all, she had already gotten way too lucky to have her idol in her life.

Robin checked her phone for the thousandth time, waiting for a reply from Nancy. But as her screen lit up, she saw nothing but her lock screen. It had been a mere 9 hours since she last received a text from Nancy. She could survive 9 hours without Nancy. She had to.

Robin checked her phone again when the doorbell rang out, echoing through her too empty apartment. She dropped the phone on the couch and got up, shuffling to the door. On the other side stood Nancy Wheeler, her hair wet and dripping raindrops on the floor.

“It’s raining,” she stated as her eyes stared into Robin’s face.

“Nance? What are you doing here? Come in, come here.” Robin pulled her in, nearly hugging her. “I’m going to get you a towel… And— and some dry clothes. You should shower. I thought you were in LA.”

“I just got back. I— Robin, I need to speak with you.”

Robin stopped running around, a pink towel in her hand that nearly dropped to the floor as she saw the expression on Nancy’s face. “Okay.”

“I—” Nancy frowned. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe at the beginning,” Robin offered.

“I don’t know if there is a beginning. And I’m hoping this isn’t the end. I just feel like there is middle. Everything has been the middle. I can’t start at the beginning because there isn’t one. There is just you.”

“Me?”

Nancy nodded, taking a deep breath. “There is just you. And then there is me. And I’m hoping you and me could be an us.” Nancy’s teeth were digging into her bottom lip and Robin worried she’d draw blood.

“What are you—” Realization dawned on her. Nancy’s doe eyes and nervous expressions might have not been enough, but her words were clear. “Oh.”

Nancy nodded again, barely. “Do you think—”

“Yes. I like that. I’d really like to be an us.”

Nancy’s lips turned into a bright smile as she closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together.

“I wrote you a song,” Robin said about two weeks after their first kiss.

They were laying in Nancy’s bed, cuddling and kissing. It had been heavenly to be cooped up in Nancy’s flat the entire day. It had been marvelous to sink into her mattress and feel her lips all over her body. And now Robin was enjoying the warmth of her girlfriend.

“You wrote me a song?” Nancy asked with a soft voice.

“I did.”

“That is so sweet.” Robin could hear the smile in Nancy’s voice.

“I was hoping you would be in the video.”

“I would love to be in the video.”

They had agreed to keep their relationship to themselves until the video came out. Which Robin knew, logically speaking, wasn’t very long. It was supposed to be released in less than a month time so it would align with Nancy’s premiere.

But Robin was ecstatic about her new situation, and she had lasted about 3 days after they had agreed. It had at first been a slip of the thumb. She had taken this adorable picture of Nancy and couldn’t not post it. Maybe she could have used a more ambiguous caption than ‘gf reveal’ but she had slipped up. It was Nancy’s fault for being so cute.

It was only when no one believed her that she kept going, that she kept tweeting about Nancy and her dating. Not that it helped.

“They still don’t believe me. It’s insane.”

Nancy laughed softly. “At least I know it’s true.,” she said as she pulled the phone out of Robin’s hands and crawled onto her lap.

The premiere of Nancy’s movie was scheduled for Friday. The music video was going to drop Thursday. Robin smiled as she thought about it. But tonight, on this beautiful Monday evening, Nancy was curled up into her side as they watched the Late Night Show together. Nancy was on this episode and when she was announced Robin cheered at the screen, much to her girlfriend’s amusement.

“So, we have to ask, is there anyone special you are taking to the premiere on Friday?”

“Well, actually, there is,” screen Nancy answered, and Robin’s eyes widened. “I’ll be taking my girlfriend, Robin Buckley.”

Nancy’s arms tightened around Robin’s waist. “So, I may have told the world.”

“Yeah,” Robin replied, nodding at the screen, not even registering the reaction from the audience.

“You’re not mad, are you?” Nancy looked up with those soft doe eyes.

“Mad? Why would I be mad? I’m delighted. I’ve been talking about it for ages now. All I wanted was you and for the whole world to know.” She lowered her face to press a kiss on her girlfriend’s lips.

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic

38 notes · View notes

envyq00 · 1 year

Text

Super heckinn late to this one but I finally got to make a Lovebug Envy! Based on a prompt I saw from Twitter. I saw a lot of cool designs that had a lot of love but not enough bug so I wanted to really mix the two.

#digitalart #envyqocs #lovebug #lovebug au #the stanley parable #tsp au

105 notes · View notes

royalsunshinehotel · 1 month

Text

social media preference (dev patel)

Anwar Kharral (Skins UK): Anwar is the only one on this list active on TikTok. He's not an uncomfortable teen anymore - he's being cringe on main and setting trends. I bet he's got 90K followers at least! He uses Threads and Instagram to back up his TikTok, not much else.

Sonny Kapoor (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel 1&2): For the benefit of the hotel, Sonny is active on Reels to promote the corporate 'brand'. He likes the chance to be creative, and the 'Board' likes the chance to show off the handsome CEO.

Neal Sampat (Newsroom): Neal is an OG Tumblr user, who joined the site as early as 2008. As demonstrated on the show, Neal is adept at using Twitter to cross-reference and fact-check various sources, I do think he'd be a prolific shitposter on a side account, rivaling our king @dril.

Deon Wilson (Chappie 2015): Deon is self-explanatory. he likes to support the indie social media sites that sprung up in the wake of the Fall of Twitter. He's a fan of SpaceHey because he went to Computer Camp with the engineer who started it (it's based out of Germany), which he's always wanted to visit!

Sheru “Saroo” Bierley (Lion 2016): I find it harder to deny with each passing day that Saroo Brierly isn't an Instagram thot. Look at @brockohurn on IG and tell me that they don't have the same respectful bro energy. I think Saroo likes the chance to use all the photos in his camera roll, and I think the MILFs of Instagram are grateful for the content.

Jay Menha (The Wedding Guest, 2019): The closest Jay gets to social media is the Polaroids he likes to stick up on the wall of your shared room. Sometimes, if he's having a bad time, he likes to sit in his beanbag and look at the wall. He only gets a ghost Facebook account to keep up with relatives- nothing ever is posted, ever.

David Copperfield (The Personal History of David Copperfield, 2020): I think David would do numbers on Medium.com because he can write self-prompted think-pieces that no one ever asked about, AND get paid for them! He's writing analyses of "Jeyton vs Brucas vs Leyton: One Tree Hill", and he's actually making money. It would be magic to him!

Joshua Madika (Modern Love, 2019): Joshua's social media is all on Tinder. He's perfected his profile, and he likes talking to people. It's all genuine and zero malice. Who wants to be alone with their thoughts?

Sir Gawain (The Green Knight, 2021): I once read a post about Edward Cullen texting that read, "just saw a snail . . . effervescent," and I think that's as close as Gawain should get to the internet. It's just like shitposting, but it's all for you.

Dr. ZZ Chatterjee (The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, 2023): ZZ keeps his drama on Facebook. He's definitely showing up in comments to defend someone's mutual friend from accusations of bias when she broke up with her tiny boyfriend because she was having neck problems*. With a doctor on her side, she didn't have to post X-rays of her neck! ZZ will be beefing!

The Kid (Monkey Man, 2024): "Ted, the movie hasn't even come out yet! How can you say The Kid is a Pinterest girlie?" It's all pretty pictures with an indefinite scroll. I also bet he's a big fan of putting things in categories (see also: skittles). We'll see who's right.

*true story circa 2018 on my Facebook page.

10 notes · View notes

avatarmerida · 2 years

Text

Rainy Day Activities

Based on this amazing art by @jovianplanets on twitter. Canon has destroyed me so here’s a little slice of life Huntlow fluff in which literally nothing happens except Hunter and Willow have a nice time together.

------

Hunter attempted to lean casually on the doorframe of the girls’ room before knocking on the door. It was open and he could see Willow sitting on her bed playing one of Luz’s old handheld video games, but for some reason he wanted to look cool when she noticed him. He nearly fell over when she looked up and smiled at him and gently put her game to the side to greet him.

“Oh, hi Hunter! Come on in!”

“Pardon my intrusion, but I noticed that when you were in the kitchen earlier, you caught your sweater on the hook on the wall and tore a hole in the shoulder.”

“Aw, look at you, always noticing me.” Willow teased.

The insinuation prompted Hunter to blush but he pressed on. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like me to stitch it up for you? I have a patch that I’ve been saving for you that I think would look nice. If you want.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Hunter,” she said brightly, jumping off the bed to retrieve it from the back of the chair. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” he said. “Plus it looks so nice on you, it would be a shame for you to have to get rid of it.”

Just as she handed him the sweater the lights in the room flickered.

“What was that?” He asked, waiting to see if they’d do it again.

“Oh, it’s probably from the storm,” said Willow. “I heard Camila say the wind is so strong, it might break the power source for the house.”

“Should we do something?” Hunter asked, a touch of panic creeping in his voice. “I mean, Camila isn’t here and she didn’t leave anyone in charge in case an emergency arose so do we have a plan of attack? Or defense? But we can’t allow the power source to be stolen, not when we-.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” said Willow softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. “We’re safe inside. The wind might just turn off the electricity while it rains. We should just be prepared to possibly have the lights off for awhile.”

“Right! I’ll be right back!”

Hunter darted down the hall and Willow just shook her head endearingly. She loved all the projects Hunter had found to keep himself busy lately. He had always taken everything so seriously, and it was nice to see him be serious about something not so serious for a change.

The lights flickered again and Willow could hear Hunter rummaging in the kitchen, opening and closing drawers and cabinets as quickly as he could, his footsteps echoing with purpose. Willow looked to the window and saw the storm getting worse, grateful she knew the others were at places that were warm and safe. The lights began to dim until finally they went off all together. It wasn’t pitch black so Willow wasn’t too concerned. But suddenly the racket from the kitchen got louder as Hunter ran down the hall and reentered Willow’s door.

“Captain! Are you okay?” He said, concerned as he came back holding several different flashlights under one arm and a broomstick in his hand.

“I’m fine,” she laughed. “But it looks like the powers gonna be off for awhile. Guess you got back just in time.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he smiled, thankful for the validation. “Um, here. You can take these so you can see, I can head back to the basement to start fixing your sweater.”

“Sewing in dim light like this might be bad for your eyes,” said Willow. “And trust me I know a lot about having bad eyes.”

“What? Willow, don’t say that you have beautiful eyes.”

“I meant... cause of the glasses,” she clarified. “But thank you.” She was grateful that in the dim lighting he couldn’t see her blush.

“Right, well anyway I should probably go back downstairs and let you get back to your game.”

"Are you sure? The basement seems like it would be pretty scary with no lights, all by yourself." .

"Psssh what? Me, scared? Not very likely Captain,” said Hunter as he twirled the broomstick. "After everything we've been through this doesn't even come close to scaring me."

A loud crash of lightning illuminated the window to interrupt him. "But, ya know, maybe from a safety perspective it would be beneficial to stick together. If you wanted some company, that is."

"Actually, I do have some scented candles I've been saving that would be nice on a night like tonight," said Willow. "They claim to smell like a garden but I'll be the judge of that."

She gathered her collection of candles from the dresser and followed Hunter down to the basement, he used a flashlight to act as her guide and bodyguard. "Be careful captain, we don’t know the layout of the house well enough to maneuver it at night," he directed, "We need to proceed with caution."

Willow didn’t point out that she could easily summon a light spell to guide them or that it really wasn't all that dark. but she didn’t in favor of holding onto his bicep as he carefully escorted her down the basement stairs. She could tell he didn’t do it because he didn't think she couldn’t do it herself, but because he genuinely enjoyed helping her.

When they reached the basement door, Hunter slowly opened the door as though to ensure that nothing lurked down here in the five minutes he had been away. As Willow set her candles on the table, Hunter ran around the room with his flashlight and discreetly tried to tidy up. The room wasn’t nessy by any means, but something about having Willow in his place made him want to ensure it looked its very vest (even though it was hard to see in the dark). Flapjack and Clover retreated to a special pillow atop the couch and curled up to watch their owners settle in.

“I love rainy days,” murmured Willow softly.

“You do?”

“Yeah, always have,” she said, sitting on the couch. “I think I like them a little bit more here though, the rain sounds nicer and helps the flowers more. Plus, I love how it smells afterward.”

“We should see if they make a candle that smells like that,” said Hunter.

“So what are some of your favorite rainy day activities?” asked Willow. “

“Um… staying inside?”

“Well duh, but like what did you do to pass the time?” she prompted. “Like, my dads always broke out these huge puzzles that we never finished. Or we’d play games or sit in the living room and read together.”

‘Well, I guess I read,” said Hunter. “I’d study, so not that different from any other day really. I really only left the castle for missions, so it didn’t really affect me I guess. I mean, it probably would’ve been less boring if I had someone else there.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m pretty much an expert at making things less boring” said Willow. “First step to a successful rainy day: fort making.”

“‘Fort making?’” repeated Hunter with a gentle chuckle. “But we don’t have any proper supplies.”

“Oh, don’t we?” Willow asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

After a few minutes of gathering supplies, Willow had taken the cushions from the couch and extra pillows from the hall closet to craft walls to drape an old sheet over to create a cozy little fort for them. She placed the flashlight behind them and it felt like they were in their own little world, safe and sound, far away from any problems. They laid on their stomachs, gathering the pillows to place under their elbows

“So now we have our special rainy day space for our rainy day activities,” said Willow, looking over their work proudly, admiring the fact that many of the blankets had patches courtesy of the resident seamstress laying beside Willow.

“So, what’s next Captain?” Hunter asked eagerly.

"Tell me a secret,” said Willow, turning on her back to face the ceiling.

“What?”

“It’s a very important rainy day activity,” said Willow, matter-of-factly as she nodded her head.

"W-what uh kind of secret?'' he said, suddenly nervous.

"Your deepest darkest most mind blowing secret," said Willow dramatically before shifting to a brighter tone. "Or can show me what's in your super secret notebook there."

"What, this?" he said, pointing to the yellow notebook Camila had given him that he had covered in stickers he had gotten from the quarter machine at the store. "This is nothing I mean, I mean it's boring. Trust me it's nothing.":

"Well I'm sure that's not true," said Willow, as she rolled back onto her stomach and traced the outline of the bird sticker with her finger. "But you don't have to show me if you don't want to, I'm just being nosey."

"No uh, it's okay," said Hunter. "Just... don't laugh, okay?"

"Hunter, I would never, "she assured, her voice adopting a tone of melodrama but he knew her sentiment was true and she was attempting to lighten his mood. “Now show me! Show me, show me, show me!” She chanted and he laughed as he timidly opened the book.

On the page he opened to, on one side was a copy of the photo of them and Gus sitting outside wearing wide smiles as they all did a silly pose. On the other side, Hunter had begun recreating the photograph in pencil. It wasn’t an exact copy but Willow could tell Hunter had developed his own unique art style. There was something about the way he drew eyes, partially her eyes, that made her heart do a little flip.

“Hunter, this is really good.”

“Really? I mean, no not really,” he said, holding his breath as she looked on, trying to tell by her face if she was just saying it for his sake. “I mean, it doesn’t even really look like you.”

“Are you kidding? I look so cute!” She said, kicking her legs with glee. “Eda should hire you to redo her wanted posters. How many of these have you done?”

“Um, I just started doing it,” he said sheepishly. “I know it’s not very productive and might not be the best use of time but it helps me clear my head sometimes.”

“Hunter, if you enjoy doing it then it’s not a waste of time,” said Willow, flipping to the next page to admire a drawing of Flapjack.

“Okay, now let me show you something,” said Willow, adjusting the flashlight. “Luz showed me, it’s like a human version of magic. It’s fun because it’s stupid, watch.”

She adjusted the light between them so it shines on the wall and she twisted her fingers in front of it and directed Hunter’s attention to the wall. “They’re shadow puppets. I know we can technically do these back home too, but I guess humans are really into them. Look! I can make a wolf!”

“Woah,” said Hunter, admiring her homemade illusion as she moved it around the wall space.

“Hey there Hunter, how are you today?” Willow had her shadow ask in a high pitched voice as her wolf bounced around. “Let’s howl at the moon and wake the neighborhood!”

Hunter laughed, it really was fun because it was stupid. “Let me try,” he said, looking down at her hands to mimic their placement and soon another world joined Willow’s on the wall. “Like this?”

“Yeah! Two wolves!” Willow laughed as Hunter bounced his wolf beside her. “Awooo!”

Hunter laughed and joined her with his own howl as they had their wolves chase each other. “What else are you supposed to do with them?” he asked.

“Well let’s see they can dance and fight and you can make them kiss, oh la la la,” said Willow as she moved her hand over to Hunter’s to make it look like their shadow wolves were kissing and made a dramatic kissing sound.

“Oh! Oh, huh,” said Hunter nervously, pulling his hand back slightly

“Oh sorry,” she said.

“No, that’s okay,” he said, returning his wolf to the scene. “I just didn’t know our wolves were in love.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” said Willow “We can pretend they’re Camila and Darius and they're getting married.”

“I severely regret telling you about that dream,” said Hunter, rolling his eyes.

“Aw c’mon, admit it would be cute,” said Willow. “Then you and Luz could be siblings.”

“I mean… not really,” said Hunter with a small smile. “Darius isn’t my dad.”

“Dude, he’s a little bit your dad,” said Willow, remembering the way Hunter would talk about him over penstagram. “Even if he wasn’t, Camila would just adopt you and make him your dad. And then he would bring orange slides to our flyer derby practices and yell at the ref anytime you got a penalty.”

“That’s… that sounds kind of nice actually,” said Hunter.

“Right?” laughed Willow, admiring the dreamy look on Hunter’s face. “And you could sing at the wedding.”

“What are you talking about? That wasn’t part of my dream.”

“Oh, I hear you down here, singing little songs while you’re sewing,” recalled Willow fondly. “You sound pretty nice. You’re a man of many talents, Hunter.”

“Oh well, I don’t know about that,” he cleared his throat to try and stop his voice from cracking.

“Yeah, imagine Camila and Darius are getting ready to have their first dance and the hall is surrounded by flowers, I’m thinking he’d pick orchids and she’d do sunflowers and of course I’d help with that, and they walk to the center of the floor into the spotlight and then you hear your voice singing ‘Stitching and sewing and fixing the rips, finding the thread and patching it alllll upppp.’”

“Oh my Titan,” groaned Hunter as he buried his head on the pillow as Willow continued..

“‘A needle, a thread, a thread and a needle working together to get to bring the fabric together.’”

“I don't know what’s worse; the fact that you heard me or the fact that you remembered it.”

“It’s my new favorite song,” said Willow. “When Camila gets her new phone and lets us have the old one, I wanna record you singing it and making it the ringtone. I'm serious.”

“Well, I’d probably have to compose a new piece for the ceremony; Darius would insist on it,” said Hunter, mostly joking. “Something elegant and classy.”

“You can practice at the wolf wedding,” she said, turning her attention back to their wolves and having hers kiss his again.

“Oh! Actually, wolves don’t kiss to show affection,” said Hunter, never needing an excuse to share a fact about wolves. “They huddle together.”

“Oh, like this?” asked Willow as she wrapped her hand around his as though to capture his wolf on the projection on the wall and ended up interlocking their fingers.

“Um.... kinda,” he said, looking at their joined hands and then at the shadow they made. Their silhouettes were now projected on the wall, and Hunter couldn’t help but take comfort in how recognizable Willow’s shadow was. The gentle curve of her nose and the roundness of her face graced the wall and even though he couldn't see the details of her face he could tell she was smiling. “It looks more like your wolf ate mine.”

“Oh, yeah,” laughed Willow. “That’s more of a spider thing isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Hunter softly, not attempting to remove his hand from hers. ”Oh here,” he said as he put their thumbs together and spread their fingers out to the sides to try and resemble a spider as the light projected their creation onto the wall. Willow laughed and then brought her other hand up to add to the illusion. In doing so, she leaned on Hunter to maintain her balance and he didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Look! Now he has a hat! Spider in a top hat!”

They laughed and Hunter was suddenly aware that he was holding both of Willow’s hands and they were even closer than before. Her face pressed against his for a moment and Hunter didn’t mind the closeness but didn’t know how to process it. How odd, months ago this moment would have been so wasteful in his eyes. What kind of person would ever see any time spent with Willow wasteful? The real waste was how many rainy days he had spent waiting for the rain to stop when he could’ve been making shadows puppets.

“There you guys are!” came Gus’ voice and soon Gus’ head followed as he stuck it though the top of their fort. “Wow, it looks pretty cozy. What’re you two up to in here? Holding hands in the dark, huh?”

“Oh, hey Gus!”

“Gus! Hi! Uh…” Hunter blushed and slowly removed his hand from Willow’s. “You see uh, the power went out and we’re just uh waiting for the rain to stop.”

“Well the rain stopped about half an hour ago and the power was on when I got home,” said Gus mischievously. “But-oh! Are you doing shadow puppets? Scoot over! I wanna make a giraffe!”

Gus entered the rainy day fort and plopped down beside Hunter, pushing him even closer to Willow. They laughed, welcoming Gus to their activity. They stacked their hands to make the giraffe as tall as possible as they fought over who would get to make the mouth. Willow brought her wolf back to settle the argument and Gus pleaded with Hunter to determine who would win in a fight between a giraffe and a wolf.

It was pointless, it was obnoxious, it was stupid. But it was fun because it was stupid.

Hunter wished it would rain more often.

#huntlow #winter toh #the owl house #willow park #hunter toh #toh #huntlow fanfiction

169 notes · View notes