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chuckaf · 3 years

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Chuck Fic Rec List: Updated

So my fic rec post was in my notifs again the other day, and I noticed a while back that the formatting on the post has gotten all messed up and it’s also had like three reblog additions to it anyway meaning there are three versions out there lol. so, I wanted to do another list of chuck fic recs! I’ll keep the other one up still, so I’m not gonna repeat every fic here, just some I really recommend. I’m also adding the fic summaries, which I didn’t on the old post, and some more of my own opinions so, buckle up for a long post!

Chuck Versus the Steampunk Chronicles | Steampunk.Chuckster

1896. A world powered by steam, where humans and machines coexist, and airships are the fashionable mode of transport. The US Empire's deepest and darkest secrets arrive at Chuck Bartowski's doorstep. Have they fallen into the wrong hands? Or will the inventor prove his mettle, even while he's forced to hide from the very people he's protecting? AU, ongoing chronicle, Charah.

A genuinely incredible AU story, with an entire crafted world and universe, so detailed it frequently blows my mind. There is heart and family and infuriatingly brilliant slow-burn, plus a buttload of danger and super fun historical/steampunk action. Oh how I LOVE it.

Chuck vs the Charade | somedeepmystery

When computer nerd Chuck Bartowski returns home to an empty apartment and a dead girlfriend he finds himself embroiled in a deadly game of espionage and deceit. Everyone around him is playing a part to get what they want and when he starts falling for the new woman in his life, he can't help but wonder if he can trust her or if she's the one he should fear the most.

An action and twist-filled AU based on the movie Charade, which is just such a brilliant fic concept I absolutely adored it from the start.

Two Sides of the Same Coin | dettiot

When you're a spy, there's all kinds of occupational hazards when you work with another spy. For Sarah Walker, though, one mission becomes a life-changing experience. Because working with Charles Carmichael leads to protecting Chuck Bartowski.

The first time I read this fic my mind was just blown to its genius. Such a brilliant interpretation of what the Intersect and its concepts set up in the show could be, and ooooof the Chuck/Sarah interactions, my HEART. Related to it, its companion piece:

A Flip of the Coin | dettiot

What made Charles Carmichael agree to become Chuck Bartowski? Well, to start, it wasn't as much of a change as you'd think. A companion to the early chapters of Two Sides of the Same Coin from Carmichael's perspective.

Chuck vs The Butterfly Effect | n7agentbartowski

Chuck Bartowski is a normal guy who just hit rock bottom. No girlfriend, no career and no super computer stuck inside his head. It isn't until Chuck meets a gorgeous stranger on the beach that he begins to think his life is about to change for the better. An AU Chuck fic without the Intersect. "Change one thing and it changes everything."

I said it on the OG post, but this story has one of my top 5 Chuck/Sarah fic meetings. So funny, so... very Chuck. The story is a little angsty overall, but a great read.

Chuck vs the Rogue Spy | Crumby

When a rogue spy from Chuck Bartowski's past shows up to help him during his first solo mission, Chuck hopes that he'll finally find out what happened to Sarah Walker. Post-S2 AU.

There’s a lot of Season 3 fix-it fics out there, which I don’t usually read bc I actually love season 3 lol, but this one’s a good one! A twisty deviation from canon, but still feels really true to character.

Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite | Steampunk.Chuckster and David Carner

What happens when two nerds talk endless hours about their favorite TV show? A new take on the show you know, but with the flair, twists, and turns you've come to expect from Steampunk . Chuckster and david . carner. Somewhat canon. Charah.

As the summary says, a different take on the show, which honestly makes a couple changes I would too, but also adds a bunch of fun twists and plots that make it totally new and fresh. Seeing Chuck and Sarah’s thoughts in the more canon sections is just delicious, too.

The Trapped Assassin | SarahsSupplyCloset

After a mission goes awry, the CIA's most lethal assassin is ordered to take vacation while her superiors figure out what to do with her. But when she meets a disarming tourist, their immediate connection only adds to her disillusionment with the agency and her career. Will he be enough for her to finally take the plunge and leave the only life she's ever known? Charah AU

A warning for the very justified M rating if you don’t like that sort of thing, but this is definitely a plot-heavy fic, too. A really neat Sarah-heavy AU, with a whole lotta Chuck/Sarah fancy French vacationy goodness.

Chuck vs the Second Chance | malamoo

AU from mid-season 2 and onwards. Chuck and Sarah part ways only to be reunited years later. COMPLETE.

Literal, crying-at-my-screen angst. Not even a super happy ending. But a brilliantly written, part-reflective/flashback fic, exploring what would’ve happened if Chuck and Sarah’s relationship really was an assignment all along-- and the aftermath. It’s heartbreaking. But if you want a little heartbreak, this is your fic.

Ready at Your Hand | dettiot

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, a Catholic plot against the queen comes to the attention of spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham. To protect Elizabeth, he develops an unusual plan: hide the passing of intelligence between two agents by a false romance. When Lady Sarah Walker and Chuck Carmichael meet, though, their pretend flirtation becomes much more.

I love Chuck fic for the very reason that it’s inspired such adventurous and totally unique AUs. Here’s some Elizabethan fake-dating Chuck and Sarah! They have to be so Proper, it’s like that hand moment from Pride and Prejudice but Elizabethan and times a billion. The pining!!

Sarah Versus Getting Married | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker is getting married. Canon. Charah.

I’d recommend all of SC’s fics if I had the room, and I’m already recommending a ton sksks but most of my fic recs are AUs, and this one isn’t! It’s canon, and covers some of in the gap in 4x24, with Sarah just before the wedding itself. Super sweet, heart-tugging, brilliant.

A Chuckmas Carol | Mikki13

A new twist to Dickens' beloved "A Christmas Carol". When Sarah begins to shut out the world around her, three spirits come to show her the error of her ways. Season 3 AU.

Another Season 3 AU, this one written pre-series so it definitely doesn’t fit to canon, but it’s still wonderfully rich in character depth and angst and it also made me cry. Plus, festive!

Chuck Versus Thin Ice | Steampunk.Chuckster

On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another. Charah AU.

Do you like curling? Or the Winter Olympics? It doesn’t really matter because somehow this fic made me extremely invested in both of those things, as well as Chuck and Sarah and them being INSUFFERABLE. Catch me now knowing a ton about curling thanks to this fic.

Walker’s Eleven | Moonlight Pilot

Not the same plot as the movie. Sarah Walker never got out of the con game or became a spy, and now she's on her final con. What happens when true love and betrayal get added to the mix? Twists, turns, and Jeffster!

Con!Sarah always interests me, and this fic is full of her. Lotta con plot, lotta Chuck and Sarah.

The Detective and the Tech Guy | thecharleses

Sarah Walker is a Pinkerton detective. Chuck Bartowski is an electronics genius. They wouldn't have met except for a case of mistaken identity and murder. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man film series. Formerly co-written by Steampunk . Chuckster and dettiot, now ONLY Steampunk . Chuckster.

Everyone in this fic is so damn cool. There are so many martinis. But also great heart and family and like, standing up for who you love, and later also Chuck with Baby Clara content which frankly the show robbed us of. Also, PI!Sarah!!!

Gravity | Poetic4U

AU. Sarah makes a decision that altered her life forever.

This is just a one-shot, which many of these stories are not, so a good one if you don’t fancy a big read! Just because it’s short, though, doesn’t mean it’s lacking; a really awesome what-if AU, and heavy on the Chuck and Sarah.

A Yuletie Tale | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker was dumped the day before Christmas Eve, and her Plus One at her work’s annual Christmas Eve Soiree is now officially a Plus Zero. Her best friend Ellie Bartowski has a solution to her problem, and Sarah finds she isn’t quite as sure about it as Ellie is. AU Christmas Charah.

I’m particularly in love with this fic because, instead of beginning with a meet-cute, it involves Chuck and Sarah already two years into a friendship-- Sarah is Ellie’s best friend. And she’s been crushing harrrd on Ellie’s brother. Also Chuck is in a tux. It’s pretty.

Set, Spike, Dive! | Frea O’Scanlin

Chuck never expected to even make it to the Olympics. Everything is working against him: he's too tall for a diver, too inexperienced for a medal, too much of a wildcard to really make his mark. But an unexpected meeting at the airport, some intriguing new friends, and a whirlwind romance on the sand just might set up London 2012 as the time of Chuck Bartowski's life.

A London 2012 AU, because why not. This is just a fun Olympic-y ride!

OTP (One True Pairing) Prompts | David Carner

A series of Prompts I found online about different times and places in Chuck and Sarah's life. Mostly AU, mostly one-shots. I assume mostly fluff, but I might get deep. I doubt it, it's me. Charah...ALWAYS (It says complete, but if an idea strikes me...)

If you’re not so into long stories, this fic is perfect. Individual set-ups and stories, all Chuck and Sarah, and all super cute. You could dip in and out and just pick a scenario you enjoy.

Chuck vs The Frontier | ninjaVanish

AU: Chuck was enjoying a simple life as a 19th century watchmaker until an encounter with a beautiful Secret Service agent thrust him into a world of intrigue and adventure he never wanted. But then, with Agent Walker around, it can't be all bad, can it?

This fic gets props for being historically-set but still including the Intersect. Again, a historical AU, so the pining!! the need to be Proper!!! But besides all that, there’s a lot of action fun as well.

Chuck Versus The Crosswalk: Remastered | WvonB

Will a last minute mission help our two favorite characters finally get together? This is the remastered version of my first story.

The original version of this fic is on my first list; this is the updated version! It’s not a complete AU, instead a story that diverges from canon, so if you’re more into canon characters and setting than a new AU scenario, this is a great fic for that.

Little Girls, Paper Wreaths, and Choc Chip Cookies | DanaPAH

Very AU: Sarah Walker is a single mother whose Christmas spirit needs a boost after a tough divorce. She isn't quite ready to go looking for romance, but her little daughter's affection for their new neighbor may lure it right to her doorstep, anyway.

An incredibly sweet AU one-shot where Chuck and Sarah are new neighbours, and Sarah has a super cute little girl. So much sweetness and love and hope. I love this fic so much it literally led me to write my own neighbour-kid-AU, so, not to toot my own horn but I’ll link it here anyway.

May Your Walls Know Joy | halfachance

Looking for a fresh start after some tough times, Sarah and her three-year-old daughter move to LA. When they meet a sweet curly-haired nerd who lives next door, though, Sarah realizes they might just find more happiness than they'd ever imagined, if only her past doesn't catch up to her first. AU.

It’s what the summary says; if you wanna read, feel free!

Chuck vs the Sound of Music | quistie64

AU. Chuck, nerd extraordinaire, is a man with seven children and Sarah must protect them all from Fulcrum's evil designs. Warning: there will be singing.

I mean. Not much mystery as to the concept with that title and summary lol, but this is a super fun, soft ride with a lotta sweetness, and yes, singing.

Just Two People | David Carner

Meet Sarah Walker PhD, Psychologist, specializing in personality traits. Meet Chuck Bartowski, man who has left THE electronic company of 2020. When Burton Consultants tries to figure out what is wrong with the morale of Orion Industries, what happens when a guy named Chuck meets a woman named Sarah. I'll give you a hint, it's me writing.

David’s done something pretty special with this fic. It’s Chuck and Sarah centric, but very much an ensemble piece, too, with a lot of Team Bartowski and other familiar faces throughout.

Chuck Versus the Con Game | Steampunk.Chuckster

AU. Chuck and Sarah are partners in the con game. It's an existence wrought with danger and violence. Every day could be their last. Every mission could be the end of the line.

This is where I freak out SC and declare this fic the reason I ever got hooked on Chuck fic and then wrote Chuck fic, and the reason I still love it today but. that is true lol. Just so. so good. It’s also written with the chapters out of chronological order, which is super fun from a reading perspective. But con!Sarah AND con!Chuck?? Best. The kind of fic you will be thinking about for days (if not, y’know, years).

As you can tell by the repeats, I highly recommend just about anything by Steampunk.Chuckster, dettiot, or David Carner, but there are a TON of amazing Chuck fics and authors out there. I’ve never known a writing community so wildly creative-- there are so many unique AUs and canon explorations and story concepts that this show has manifested, and it’s all so much fun.

Most of the Chuck fic community is still over on FFN rather than AO3, so if any of these whet your appetite, feel free to have a browse there for more stories. I’m sure you’ll find something great. Personally, all the incredible writing there has also led me to write a buttload; I’m at halfachance on FFN, so if you see any of my stuff or wanna chat fic, feel free to message me there or here.

Happy reading, folks!

#chuck #fic rec #chuck fic #nbcchuck #praying if i edit this to add to it or i reblog it to add to it all the links stay and the line breaks don't disappear sksks #the old one still looks okay on desktop but it's messed up on the app and on mobile and it's just all generally messy #so i've been wanting to make this for aaages lol yay to finally doing something! woo!

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spices-and-cherries · 3 years

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Faster Than a Kitten on Parade (Benoit Blanc x Reader)

Okay, not to toot my own horn, but this is actually kind of good? Like I’m kinda proud of myself... I spent a large amount of time trying to figure out southern accents and their corresponding regions that I kinda gave up and said Mississippi. Louisiana is another safe bet? Anyway, to all Bostonians reading this, I’m sorry. I wrote what I wrote for the sake of plot.

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warnings: brief description of near car accident and reckless driving

***This is pure fluff with not even a hint of angst***

Every day you take the bus to and from work. While it’s thankfully a straight shot from where you live, Boston’s public transportation leaves much to be desired. The buses rarely run on time, the traffic is miserable, and in the winter it’s living hell. Snowy, cold, wet... It makes you wonder what made you think of moving away from your hometown to this. Was the career move really worth it? Yes.

But that doesn’t mean that your commute lacks any perks. The bus stop you wait at in the morning is right outside a coffee shop, people keep to themselves (unless there’s a game coming up), and it provides you with the time you need to reflect on the day. Most of all, however, is the new guy.

One of the things that comes with riding the same bus everyday is that you tend to ride with the same people as well. So of course your curiosity is piqued when you first saw him. Everything about him seemed so different from the usual folk you see walking around Boston: kind, gentlemanly, smart...

That being said, you have yet to actually meet him...

Normally, that would be completely fine, but you have to admit something’s going on when a fellow commuter has continued to make your day more than several days in a row. Was it his smile? The way he holds himself? That time he gave up his seat for an older lady? Is it just because he’s so clearly not from Boston?

You’ve been trying to build up enough confidence to actually say something - literally anything - but you always chicken out. The first time it was because he was reading a book and you didn’t want to disturb him. The second was because he was standing barely a foot away from your seat and you blanked because that ass. The third and fourth (and admittedly fifth) time ended in a similar fashion.

That is until one glorious and blessed day.

It was snowing hard, but as usual, the city chugged along without a care. So, you had left your apartment with several layers of sweaters and more handwarmers than you could count (That’s a lie. You were carrying ten.). The bus was unusually full and by the time his stop came around, there weren’t a lot of seats left.

Did you forget to breath when you watched him look at the seat next to you?

Were your hands getting sweaty even though that shouldn’t be possible considering the temperature?

Was your heart running faster than a kitten on parade?

Yes, yes, and yes.

“May I take this seat?” His accent somehow prevented you from speaking so you just nodded and smiled. “Thank you kindly.” You shift slightly to give him some space and to try and get rid of sudden spike in adrenaline that his unexpected (and totally welcomed) accent caused...

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, trying really hard to not look weird or creepy. He has on this grey pea coat and a deep maroon colored scarf. His blue suit pants stretch just a tad over what looked to be some muscle. And his aftershave...is amazing to say the least. But all these fine details aren’t what really catch your eye. For what ever reason, this man has no gloves on. His finger tips are turning purple! Hurriedly, you look in your work bag for one of your spare handwarmers. You find it at the bottom, still in it’s packaging.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t have gloves...” You hand it to him. He looks at you with surprise.

“Oh, no...! I couldn’t possibly...” His voice sounds like honey...

“I insist. I buy so many, I won’t miss one.” You push it into his hands.

“That’s mighty kind of you.” He smiles again. It’s very soft. Like marshmallow clouds kind of soft.

“Oh, not at all!” And in that moment, you did something very daring: you introduced yourself. “Um, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), by the way.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mx. (L/N). I’m Benoit Blanc, but please, call me Blanc.” He offers to shake your hand and you take it. You can feel how cold his hands are through your gloves, but it barely even registers. You’re far too busy trying to memorize his name.

Benoit Blanc.

“Is that French?” Oh. My. God. Really?

“Yes.” He chuckled a little. One side of his mouth went up, scrunching that side of his face. It was a hella cute scrunching. “On my father’s side. Immigrated several generations back.”

“I was gonna say that you don’t really look French...”

“I take after my mother.”

“Ah. That explains it.” You smile, genuinely amused. “Sothen, where are you really from then?”

“A small town in Mississippi. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“Yeah, probably not.” You nod slightly. “I bet that it’s super different than here.”

“Heh, yeah it is.” Mr. Blanc holds the handwarmer up for a second as emphasis.

“I, uh, I’m from (hometown) - (region) - so I know where you’re coming from. Boston sure is something else, isn’t it?”

“Never have I ever - and I mean ever - been in a town as - as - as unique unto itself as Boston!” A few people look up. You don’t care. You had no idea that a man of his age could look so cute. “Apologies.” He lowers the volume of his voice - not that he really needed to. “Now, comin’ from the South, I’ve had my fair share of human nature, but the drivers here are a whole ‘nother species. It’s like the jungle out there.”

“Did you ever make the mistake of taking a taxi when you first came here?”

“Much to my chagrin, yes, yes I have.” He shakes his head disapprovingly, but you can see a little twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Not too long ago, in fact. The man was speakin’ on the phone and nearly drove us off a bridge... Nearly had a conniption of the heart.”

“That is pretty bad. In my first ride I was this close-” You bring up your thumb and pointer finger, the pads barely a millimeter apart. “-to getting run over by a cement truck because the driver ran a red light. He got mad at me too ‘cause I didn’t tip him.”

“Good lord, that is quite the experience...” His brow furrowed slightly.

“I saw my life go past my eyes.” You say dramatically. “But hey, that’s Boston.” You sigh heavily. “Anyway, how long have you lived in the city?”

“Jus’ a couple of months.” Aha. Just around the time he first started taking the bus... “Yourself?”

“A couple of years. I feel more and more like a true Bostonian every day that passes.” You chuckle. “The plus side though, is that I can show you where all the good food is. I can be your personal tour guide!” It takes a couple of milliseconds for your brain to register what you had just said. “Well, if you’d like that... The offer, uh, stands?” What are you talking about?

“I think I jus’ might take you up on that, if you wouldn’t mind.” This man. Bless this beautiful man. God, that smile. “That bein’ said, I do believe this is my stop.”

“Already? Time flies when you’re having fun.” You smile.

“Yes it does. It was a pleasure meetin’ you, Mx. (L/N),” He stands up. “And thank you very much for your kindness.” He waves the handwarmer a little.

“You can call me (Y/N) and you are very welcome.”

“Then call me Benoit, if you please. Now you have yourself a good day.” He smiles, waves a little, and hurries off the bus. And just like that, your whole year has just been made.

Did you pass your stop a while ago?

Were you smiling like an absolute idiot anyway?

Was your heart running faster than a kitten on parade?

Yes, yes, and yes.

I hope you all like this! I had so much fun writing it and it just flowed out of me. Side note, the title is inspired by Trixie Mattel’s song, Gold. She’s a country singer, but it’s actually good, so check it out! If you have any constructive criticism or requests, please let me know! I am also a big fan of comments - they make my week every time! See you all in the next one! - Simpy

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need-a-fugue · 3 years

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Trustworthy (Chapter 3)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating… and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Does fluff warrant a warning? Well, before we get into the gritty mission, here be some fluffy fluff. Oh, and language. Because I speak that shit.

Thursday came sooner than anticipated, and with it came that awful rush of dread that enveloped you each and every time you set foot in an airport. You’d think you’d be over this by now, your job shuttling you off to the far corners of the Earth, making it so that the only way you could ever get to where you needed to be – Bogota, Juarez, Islamabad, home – was by plane. But… no. The fear of plummeting to an inevitably fiery death inside a giant can filled with the recycled breath of dozens – even hundreds – of strangers was one you were simply never going to get over.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” Benny barks out amid a thunderous laugh as he watches you down another pill and chase it with a tiny bottle of vodka. “Is it even safe to take Xanax with alcohol?” he asks, his face screwing up in confusion, a hint of concern breaking through the amusement. “Are you so scared of flying that you’re willing to risk an OD?”

“Seems strange, given your profession,” Tom mutters as he sidesteps Ben to slide into the row of seats behind you.

You offer no reply, instead blinking your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the awful activity of preparing for takeoff. The doors haven’t even closed yet, people still steadily boarding the plane, your new teammates still stowing bags and chatting merrily around you, and yet you’ve already buckled in, pulled the lap belt as tight as it will go, and downed your second Xanax in an hour.

“She’ll be alright,” you hear from above. You crack open a single eye and look up to see Santiago looming over the back of your seat. “Fish,” he calls out, tossing a quick glance at the man still struggling with fitting everything into the overhead compartment. “You sit with her. Tell her about all the times you’ve flown. Keep her calm.”

“I’m calm,” you mumble under your breath.

He looks down at you and raises a brow, gaze holding yours even as he tells his friend, “And don’t let her pop any more pills.”

“No shit,” Ben chuckles as he steps out into the aisle, relinquishing his seat just as Frankie finally slams shut the door on the overhead bin. “We’ll have to scrape her off the floor otherwise.”

Frankie slides in next to you, the tiny armrest barely allowing for any space between you and the scorching heat radiating off of him. Normally you might be okay with that, it certainly felt good in the chilly parking lot the other night. But right now you’re feeling flush and hot and on the verge of possible combustion, the odd suck and click sound of the plane’s door shutting and sealing you in causing a bead of sweat to begin sliding down your temple.

“Truth be told, I’m not too wild about being on flights where I’m not the pilot,” he says, his soft voice pitched perfectly to sound just over the hum of the plane, the new buzzing in your ears, and the sudden woosh of air from the vent that he reaches over to switch on above you.

“Comforting,” you mutter, shutting your eyes against the harsh, dry air blowing down on you, but inclining your head back into the steady, cooling stream just the same.

“Just don’t tell her about how many times you’ve crashed, Fish,” Ben laughs from across the aisle. You bolt upright and crane your neck around the man beside you so as to stare the giggly child down, wide eyes gleaming with a very real threat that actually causes his smirk to break and a subtle, “sorry,” to slip past his lips.

Frankie takes your hand, pries it away from the armrest that you’d been holding in a death grip, and he gives you a little nudge with his elbow, encouraging you to lean back in your seat. “I’ve never crashed,” he corrects, shooting Benny a swift, reprimanding glare before turning back to you. “I’ve just… had a couple of rough landings. But each time everyone walked away fine.”

“Yeah?” you question, critical brow cranking high. “And how often do people walk away from rough landings on a commercial airplane?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Not often,” he admits. “But they also don’t go down often, so there’s that.”

Your eyes blow wide, slight gasp catching in your throat as you eke out, “Are you trying to jinx us?”

He twists in his seat to look at you, his fingers wrapping just a little bit tighter around your hand as you inadvertently shake in his grasp. “Trust me, princesa, this is the least dangerous thing we’re gonna do this week.”

The heady bolt of fear subsides a bit, quickly replaced by a tinge of confusion – princesa? – and a hint of irritation. Your face twists into an overdone pout – “Don’t call me that.” – but you can’t deny that his words do, somehow, put you at ease. Or perhaps the Xanax is just kicking in. Either way, you find yourself settling back into the seat, body and mind both suddenly sluggish and heavy. You twist towards him, away from the window and the blinding glare of the early morning sun as it reflects off the stark white wing of the plane, and you let out a small disgruntled grunt as the too-tight lap belt digs into your hip.

Frankie easily contorts himself in his seat so that he’s able to face you bodily, smiling – perhaps teasing – eyes never disconnecting from yours as he too settles in and reclines his head to the headrest. “Gotta have some kind of callsign over the radio,” he states, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a coy, crooked smile. “You don’t like princesa… how about loquita?”

“Fuck you,” you bark out amid a snort of a laugh, the offended pitch to your voice and wide-eyed stare setting him to very nearly vibrate with stifled giggles.

He takes a moment to swallow down his obvious amusement, holding your gaze all the while. Then he clears his throat and pulls his features into a stern set. “Don’t take it personally. I’d call anyone who hates to fly crazy.”

You issue out a short, incredulous scoff. “Maybe if I were the pilot, I’d like it. If I were in control.”

“Yeah,” he admits with a nod and a sigh. “That helps.”

But the truth is, you don’t actually think it would help that much. Because, well… “What person in their right mind thinks, you know what I’d like to do? I’d like to ignore the fact that God gave me legs instead of wings and I’d like to leave the ground. I mean… the ground is the safe place, man. What are you thinking?”

He smiles over at you, a soft, tender expression that sets off a flutter deep in your core. “What kind of person wants to stay on the ground with everybody else when they can climb into the heavens and move through the clouds?”

You bite back the grin that begs to break out and instead flatten your face in the most deadpan expression you can muster. “Are you fucking with me right now?” He merely shoots a wink in response, the light from outside your window reflecting in his deep brown eyes as they pierce into you. You roll your own eyes, but can just barely hold back the quirk to your lips as you say simply, “You’re the crazy one.”

He lets loose with a soft chuckle and shifts further in his seat so that he’s entirely facing you. “You never wanted to play in the clouds?” he asks, grin pulling wider. You feel a new heat – a welcome and comforting one, not the panicky, dizzying burn from before – blossom inside of you as you notice a single dimple cave in on the side of his stubble-dusted face.

A long sigh escapes you. “I mean, I did watch a lot of Care Bears growing up,” you offer, working to keep your expression still and set. But his smile simply grows and it’s just a breath of a moment before you break and let loose with a beam of your own. “God,” you nearly whine as an airy chuckle spills out of you. “Play in the clouds? You’re so cheesy.”

“Hey, I happen to really like cheese.” He raises a rather serious brow as he asks, tone low and sincere, “Can you imagine what the world would be like without cheese?”

You force a stoic glare, bite back a smile. “It’d be terrible. No nachos or pizza…”

He shakes his head slowly, sadly. “All the macaroni would be naked.”

You release a soft sigh. “One third of those popcorn tins would be empty.”

“Or filled with, I dunno, kale-dusted popcorn or something.”

You snort out a laugh, nose wrinkling in disgust. “What would we eat with tomato soup? Grilled eggplant?”

He shrugs. “What would Green Bay fans wear to the game?”

And again, you laugh, this one full and buoyant. “Poor Wisconsin, their entire economy would collapse.”

“What about the French?” he asks.

And it’s your turn to offer up a shrug. “They’ve still got wine.”

He stares at you for a lingering moment before his eyes flicker just past and out the window. “Maybe it sounds a little cheesy,” he begins, ticking his chin towards you, towards the tiny airplane window behind you. “But look out there and tell me there isn’t a part of you that wants to climb out there right now and bounce through those fluffy little bastards.”

Your brows pull tightly together, a quick flicker of pure shock shooting through you and causing you to whip around so fast that a crack sounds from your spine. Outside the window are, in fact, hordes of white puffy clouds peppering the bright blue sky. “What…?” you choke out, utter confusion lacing the word.

When had you taken off? When had you reached altitude? How had he managed to distract you so effectively as you climbed thousands of miles into the sky in this deathtrap tube?

You stare out the window for a long moment, giving yourself time to breathe, to comprehend. Allowing your fingers – which had just clamped painfully down on Frankie’s hand yet again – to slowly relax and loosen their terrified hold. No, there’s no part of you that wants to go out there and bounce around in the damn clouds. No. Way. In. Hell. But there is a part of you that begins to get lost in the soft, subtle beauty stretching out all around you. It’s still scary as hell. But it’s also… amazing.

Frankie watches as you continue to gaze out at the sprawling sky, bright blue on this beautiful day, a day he’d like nothing more in this world than to be out in, flying through the wide-open sky. Your hand remains wrapped around his, even if the intense grip has slackened. And your shoulders are still nearly pressed to you ears, so tense and taut. But there’s a sort of wonder wrapping about you now too, a look of, if not joy, at least appreciation.

“Los cielos,” he mutters from behind, seemingly to himself, his tone dreamy and airy and full of something like… wonder. You toss a glance over your shoulder and catch the way the sun lights his face as he stares just past you, his eyes fixated on the world beyond. You stare for perhaps a beat too long, not realizing until his gaze slowly shifts from the window to you, catching you in the act. The dimple caves again, wide smile pulling once more as he locks onto your eyes, light laughter bubbling out of him as your gaze pings away in a swift moment of embarrassment. He squeezes your hand, tightening his grip on your fingers for a single, quick, perfect millisecond before he utters, honeyed voice once again carrying more than a hint of teasing, “Cielo.”

Confused, you look back up at him, your brow twisting. But you let out a groan the moment he tenders another wink, the moment you realize that he’s just offered up another ridiculous callsign suggestion. You roll you eyes again, but make no move to pull out of his hold nor turn from his heated gaze. “So much cheese…”

He laughs again, his grin pulling tight as he watches you settle back into your seat with an exhausted sigh. You raise a brow in question, in challenge. And the smirk fades to a stony façade as he gives a single, definitive nod and declares, as though all has been settled, “Cielo.”

000

The flight knocks you for a loop. Less than an hour in, you’re passed out, snoring away on Frankie’s shoulder. You wake at one point to discover a pool of drool leaking from your gaping mouth and soaking through the shoulder of his button down, but you don’t even have the wherewithal to be embarrassed, nor the grace to apologize. Instead, you lazily swipe at the mess and turn with an incoherent mumble before dropping your heavy head against the cool glass of the window. You’re pretty sure you hear the tinkling of laughter coming from across the aisle – pretty sure that’s the sound that woke you from your drug-induced slumber to begin with – and you can definitely discern the throaty whispers of shut the hell up and you’re an asshole, Ben coming from the man by your side. But you’re too laden with sleep to really process or care.

For the next however many hours, you dream. Dream of bouncing through clouds in a bright blue sky. Dream of slinking through the jungle with strange men by your side. Dream of falling and floating and somehow rising to fly. You sleep and dream – and snore and drool – until an all-too familiar laugh sounds from above, a barking command of, “Hey, get your ass up, agent,” echoing in Santi’s exasperated – yet amused – tone. You blink open your eyes, tilt back your head, and see both him and Tom glaring down at you as they stand – bent awkwardly from the low ceiling of the plane – in the row behind. “Everybody else is already lone gone, bonita. Get your ass off the plane.”

Your brow furrows and your middle finger rises steadily upward, but somehow the rest of your body feels too heavy to move and it takes a kindhearted gentleman in a tattered old ballcap to ease you to your feet and out into the aisle.

“The second one was a mistake,” you mutter wearily as you nearly faceplant into Frankie’s chest.

“Yeah,” comes from behind in an annoyed scoff as Santiago reaches over to collect your bag from beneath the seat. “I’m confiscating your Xanax.”

The ride to the run-down inn and resort – far from the city and cheap as all hell – passes in a blur. But by the time you arrive and check into your little bungalow, you’re feeling, if not refreshed, at least awake.

Everyone agrees to meet up at the tiny restaurant at the edge of the grounds in about twenty minutes, just long enough for a quick rinse and wardrobe change. And somehow you manage to be the first one there, allowing you the opportunity to have a quick chat with the bartender – which results in a free, giant fruity concoction – before settling into a table in the corner. You let out a relaxed sigh and breathe back in the humid jungle air, realizing only in this very moment that a part of you actually missed this place. That a part of you might just think of the Amazon as home. You glance around, take note of your surroundings – as you always do, always have done, even before your law enforcement training – and begin to watch the rather handsy young couple at the bar as they giggle and swoon.

It isn’t long before Benny jogs up behind you and drops into the seat on your right. He sets down a fruity drink that looks suspiciously like yours, making you wonder if the bartender treats all tourists to a free, sugar-fueled beverage and perhaps your flirting earned you nothing at all. But as the others meander in and join you, all with mere sweating bottles of beer in their hands, you decide instead that you and Ben must just be the most special of the bunch.

Of course, that notion begins to chafe once Benny turns to you with a wicked look in his eye and pulls his phone from his pocket, nonchalantly swiping though a parade of terrible photos with an all-too delighted smile. The first few show you passed out on Frankie on the plane, mouth gaping wide as you spill drool into his shirt. “Oh, God!” you gasp, only just now recalling the brief moment of near lucidity from earlier in the day. “You took pictures?!”

You give him a quick slap and try to grab the cell from his hand only to have him rear back and laugh out, “Wait, wait, these are my favorites,” before scrolling through the next dozen or so, each picture showing a steady progression of your drowsy head falling from Will’s shoulder down to his lap as the two of you sat in the back on the drive in from the airport.

“You talk in your sleep,” Will states plainly from across the table, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

You cock your head suspiciously at him, gaze narrowing. “Liar,” you accuse despite knowing full well that it’s true.

The corner of his mouth quirks into a crooked grin. “Something about… sliding down rainbows?”

“Ooooh,” you drawl out, nodding your head. “Yeah, that makes sense. Frankie kept talking to me about Care Bears on the flight in.”

The man to your left takes a steady gulp from his beer, a swallow so huge it makes you think he’d been navigating the desert all day, desperate for a drink. “You were barely conscious for more than five minutes on that flight. You don’t have a clue what I talked to you about.”

“Better not have been anything dirty,” Santiago interjects pointedly.

You turn and pin Frankie down with an intent yet amused stare. “I definitely remember something about playing in the clouds.”

“Naked?” Ben asks as he jostles your other side with his elbow.

“Ahora, eso seria realmente el cielo,” Frankie mutters softly, ducking further beneath the bill of his hat and trying desperately not to laugh as you level him with an astounded glare.

By the time the food comes, your table has managed to outdo the small group of college students in the corner in terms of noise, filling the only partially walled-in establishment with a relaxed sort of banter and the occasional booming laughter. Benny continues his jokes and playful ribbing, eagerly pulling you in to blend with his tightknit group. Will and Frankie both remain mostly quiet, despite their comfortable-looking grins and occasional bursts of laughter.

Tom’s demeanor is similar, perhaps a bit less relaxed, a bit more guarded. Even after claiming to be cool with your presence on this little escapade, he’s anything but warm and welcoming to you. It doesn’t escape your notice that he continues to pull Santi aside to whisper what you can only assume are either covert sweet nothings or – far more likely – mission-related thoughts and plans that he still doesn’t quite trust you with. You shrug it off… it’s fine, really. You’ve had to slip into other cliques and clusters before, wedge yourself into a special operations task force or try to integrate in with local police to gain access to intel. This wasn’t your first rodeo. And frankly, compared to the Federales in Juarez, all of these guys had welcomed you into the fold with wide-open arms.

It isn’t long – or it doesn’t feel like long, anyway – before Santi rises and tells everyone that he’s heading to bed. A shit-eating grin passes over his face as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, familiar looking pill bottle. He shakes the remaining Xanax around and states simply, “For once, I’m actually gonna sleep great.”

Tom follows hot on his heels after issuing out – in a tone equal parts dad and captain – “We’re up at 0500 and I don’t want any of you to be dragging ass.” Everyone nods their assent, but the moment he and Santi are out the door, Ben promptly buys another round and the four of you who remain settle into a new rhythm that lasts until the tiny restaurant and bar finally shoos you out so they can close for the night.

The lot of you wander the grounds of the inn for a bit after that, indulging in the cool breeze after hours of sweltering heat, and continuing to laugh and talk. But as you make it back to the bungalows, the brothers break away, Ben disappearing into his room without so much as a grunt of goodbye, and Will raising a pointed finger high and telling you and Frankie both to, “Get the hell away from these mosquitos and go get some sleep. Otherwise, Redfly’ll be raining down shit on everyone in the morning.”

But you’re now more awake than you’ve been all day, sated from a too-large dinner and positively sloshing with alcohol, well-rested after your many-hours-long nap during your travels, and you just can’t seem to make yourself shut up, not even once you arrive at your door.

And Frankie seems to welcome it, listening intently as you babble on, filling the gaps with assertions of his own. Now that Ben’s no longer around to monopolize the conversation, you and Frankie develop an easy back and forth, the dialog taking on a soft, steady, even cadence. You talk about everything, the two of you. About Mexico, because you spent nearly four years in different parts of the country, and he still has family in a few of those areas. And you talk about all the places you’ve been, you with your sprawling career and general lust for travel – Road trips are more my thing though… and camping, hiking… Have you ever been through Bryce Cannon? God’s country. – and Frankie with his time in the military and more recent contract work – Yeah, nature’s great and all, but have you walked through the bazars in Marrakesh? Unbelievable. Though I wouldn’t say no to a day of fishing off the Gulf.

You talk about Santiago, each sharing stories of the man who had only just become a trusted colleague and friend for you over these last few years, but had been one of Frankie’s most beloved people for well over a decade. And that leads you into asking about the other guys too, each of whom you find yourself getting to know better and better from even just the few stories he shares as you two recline back into the railing of the bungalow’s small porch. He even manages to get you comfortable enough to share some stories about your own comrades over the years, the good, the bad, and the ugly… and the long-time partner who bled out in your arms following a bust outside of Albuquerque. Though you don’t spend much time on that, eager to move on almost the moment that your partner’s name passes through your lips.

The look on his face, though – as you share those sparse details from that most awful day – tells you immediately that Frankie understands exactly what it’s like to lose a partner, a brother in arms. And while that isn’t a surprise in the least – he had just gotten through telling you that he spent fifteen years in the special forces after all – that knowledge does cause you to feel a whole new pull. It makes you scoot a bit closer, makes you drop your hand easily atop his, your sweaty palm gliding along his warm skin before he reciprocates by slowly turning in your grasp and twining his fingers with yours.

“So,” he breathes out after a moment. “You’ve been out here for… three years?”

You nod, a soft smile blooming as you think about this bizarre and stunning corner of the world. “About that.”

His gaze travels out into the lush jungle located just beyond the row of bungalows, small porchlights illuminating just enough of the canopy to remind you both of where you are. “What’s the city like?” he asks after a beat.

“It’s nice,” you rush out. “Small, relaxed…” Your lips purse together as you think on what to say, how to describe this place that has been your home for three years now. “Lot more tourists than you might think. It’s funny, even the people who live here – in the city at least – a lot of them are transplants from Bogota.” You give a nonchalant shrug – “The streets flood a lot. That’s not always fun.” – and relish the deep chuckle emanating from the man by your side. “There’s a legend about how it got its name,” you say suddenly. “I’ve never really gotten any details about it, but supposedly a Colombian soldier fell in love with an Amerindian woman…”

“Leticia,” he supplies, the name slipping from his tongue in a perfectly accented drawl, falling out into the dark night in a soft, low rumble.

You nod. “And he named the city after her.”

Frankie huffs out a small laugh, a light and airy rumble. His gaze continues to wander, dark eyes shifting along the barely perceivable horizon. “Must’ve been a hell of a lady,” he mutters absently, giving your fingers a squeeze.

You watch him closely, his features soft and relaxed in the low light, the slightest hint of a smile still riding his lips. “Yeah. Must’ve been.”

Taglist:

@tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @icanbeyourjedi @greeneyedblondie44 @mrscrain-x7 @kyjoraven@elephants-are-a-thing @nakhudanyx

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #santiago pope garcia #benny miller #will ironhead miller

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 22

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: FLUFF! Inappropriate jokes! The team being a family of mother hens. Steve + WAP! Reader's old man fetish is ✨blossoming✨. Stephen is finally evolving from Grinch into a human being.

a/n: How do we feel about Wanda/Loki pairing? Loki is comparatively around Wanda's/Reader's/Pietro's age, e.g. he's a young adult. Also, new divider.

All three of us spilled out of the elevator in a flurry of wet hair, outrageously large shopping bags and the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon-infused chocolate. Picture perfect friends - our arms were linked, we stood side to side, our bags mixed up. Loki's silky black hair was dripping cold water onto my face and my own clothes sticking to me in uncomfortable places.

It started pouring buckets when we got into my car to go back to the tower. Wanda complained about being hungry and after a brief detour in one of the hole-in-the-wall, hidden gem, French boulangeries, all three of us were pleasantly relaxed and companionable under the influence of hot chocolate and fresh, warm croissants (Loki ate, like, ten, royal manners be damned). The five minute run from the parking lot to the main entrance resulted in us being way too soaked to be comfortable - thankfully, the shopping bags seemed to be waterproof. Or, perhaps, Loki enchanted them somehow.

"Stop fucking cheating, Rogers..." Tony was grumbling in frustration, looking at an array of cards in his hands, squinting suspiciously at a smug Steve.

Noticing us, the room perked up immediately. Thor lifted his head and we saw him and Pietro splayed out on the couch, each male holding a play station controller. Stephen Strange was sat cross-legged on the floor, reading a book, while Natasha filed her nails next to him, a face of tranquility and indifference.

We almost backpedaled from the amount of puppy eyes suddenly gazing at us.

"Sup?" I decided to go first, seeing as both of my companions were still mostly confused. What the hell, I was equally perplexed.

"How was your day, brother?" and "Got yourself a nice dress?" and "Marchesa? Not bad." Were the most intelligible words I could make out of the cacophony that descended upon us.

And it suddenly downed on me. Neither Wanda nor Loki had previously left for the city on their own. Their siblings were worried. I sighed, concealing my happiness behind a quiet complaint of being cold and wet. My bags were picked up by Thor who abandoned his game in favour of greeting his brother with a hug. Surprisingly, Loki didn't refuse and let Thor embrace him and relieve us of our items to deposit them out of the way.

"Cold," Wanda whined, stripping off her damp sweater to reveal simple black leggings and tee underneath.

"Wet," Loki mumbled, gathering a ball of green magic to dry out his dripping hair.

"Gross," I said, walking straight into Tony's open arms. He didn't say anything, just indicated my place was in his lap, squeaking and shivering as soon as I reached my destination.

"Baby girl, you're gonna get sick. Let's go take a bath," He unsuccessfully attempted to lift my limp body. I groaned in protest, dead on my feet. It felt like I had walked a thousand miles. Wasn't gonna remove myself from a warm, soft Tony.

"I'm dead, like, I'm a zombie. If you move me, I'll eat that sexy brain of yours," I threatened fitfully.

"Well, at least change out of these clothes. You're dripping me in gross, polluted rain water," The engineer laughed.

"Lazy," I replied, nestling myself closer to his warmth. He tugged on my clothes, wrestling me out of the top layers, leaving me shivering like a newborn kitten across his lap. His eyes darted across the room - evidently, he was looking for some sort of a hoodie as he wasn't wearing one at the time. Tony knew how much I loved those and always kept one in his vicinity. Thoughtful, lovely Tony.

"Have you seen my MIT sweatshirt?" He asked and everyone replied negative. Tony frowned.

"Here, have mine," Strange stood up, unzipping and handing me his own plain grey one. "I'll make some herbal tea for the girls least they actually get sick." With that, the grumpy doctor walked off into the kitchen. I watched his broad back retreat with renewed interest. Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave...

One warm hoodie and hot tea later, I was feeling less like a drowned cat and more like the fabulous human being that I was. Wanda had told everyone about her two cute new dresses without actually revealing the idea behind her costume. Somehow all of us silently agreed to surprise each other after I pulled my stunt on Stephen.

Strange didn't seem to be mad at me; his presence was amiable and delightful. He made usual small talk and we engaged in a brief, friendly battle of the wits and he and Tony managed to not piss off each other too much. Loki and Wanda hung nearby, and we chatted, too, mostly about less popular but very cool movies the three of us could watch... Yeah, so we were arranging a sleepover. Bite me.

"So, everyone ready for the party?" Clint was all but bouncing in his seat. "Me and Sammy-boy, we'll have the coolest costumes!" He exclaimed, smirking in Tony and Bruce's direction. Something was coming, something great, from my two boys. I could sense it. Natasha probably knew and tattled to Clint already. The bird bros fist-bumped with an obnoxious cheer.

I was feeling drowsy. The tea Strange made had something calming in it. My usual energetic spirit was gone, replaced by a mellow sort of mood. Plus, my feet hurt from all the walking. I moaned in distaste, flexing my toes.

"I disagree," Wanda shared a secretive smile with Loki and me.

Apparently, my discomfort was quite obvious. It took only another quiet, pitiful groan from me for Bruce to scoot closer, remove my socks and tenderly knead the arch of my foot. He smiled at me, soft and gentle, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft, painful spots.

"Yeah, Pigeon, no amount of make-up will help that ugly mug," Tony declared with a wave of his hand.

"Tony!" Sam defended his bird bro, tossing a pillow at the engineer and missing me by barely an inch.

"You don't need any make-up, bird. You need plastic surgery." I jumped on the bully Clint bandwagon for the lolz. He was actually quite handsome, but his reactions always were fucking priceless. All of us occasionally ruffled his feathers but never to an actually hurtful extent.

"Not gonna lie, that one hurt." Barton huffed, crossing his arms.

Meanwhile, Bruce had moved onto my other foot. I had to hold in a bunch of very lewd, inappropriate noises. Tony was grinning above me, not at all affected by me squirming around. Banner grinned back at the engineer. They were definitely plotting something.

That just wouldn't do, I decided. Time to throw Rick and Morty off their course a little. I stretched leisurely, allowing the hem of my borrowed hoodie to lift, exposing an inch too much of skin than strictly appropriate.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steve's arched eyebrow and the small secretive smirk he hid behind a cup of tea. The Captain wasn't as virtuous as the others thought and he definitely was onto me.

Bruce still wreaked havoc on my vestibular system by doing some magical voodoo shit to my toes and traded suspicious grins with Tony who radiated an unfair amount of smugness.

"Oh my God," I stretched with a moan of contentment. "Fucking rail me." I might have used this particular choice of words on purpose. The Avengers that memed with me knew the actual meaning but they were in the minority. Most, including Tony and Bruce, gasped in shock at my choice of words. I grinned innocently. "What?"

"We don't use that kind of language around here!" Steve exclaimed, barely hiding a full-fledged laugh behind his cup.

"Cap, a lot has changed in the past seventy years, if you didn't notice," Barton rolled his eyes. "Women are allowed to express themselves now."

"Men think it's pretty hot, actually," Tony remarked, giving me one of his positively mischievous smiles, gently stroking my cheek and dipping his index finger under the hem of my top, following the lines of my collarbone. "It's just that Cap got left out in the cold."

"Very funny, Tony," Steve groaned as the rest of the group laughed. "We don't need a repeat of the WAP incident."

I choked on my breath. "The WHAT incident?!"

Laughter drowned out Steve's stuttering explanation as the supersoldier blushed, possibly, the most saturated shade of scarlet I'd ever seen on a human's face. I had to stop Bruce from continuing to make my limbs into Jell-O, wanting to hear the full story clearly. Anything that warranted such a strong reaction from Steve was bound to be, like, equal parts extremely embarrassing and hilarious. Bucky was laughing up a storm, a tell-tale sign of him having taken direct actions to ensure Steve would be as confused and ashamed as possible.

"Steve caught Peter listening to the song and asked him about it. Peter refused to answer at first, so Bucky decided to mess with Steve a bit," Pietro began explaining. "So Bucky goes: WAP stands for wasted academic potential. Steve sits on it a couple of days, believing his boyfriend like the naïve old man he is," Pietro was gesturing vividly, arms flailing, as the Captain buried his face in his hands. "Lo and behold, Steve had to give a Captain America speech at some sort of school for delinquent children. And at the end of it all - Natasha has that bit on video, by the way - he gives his stern Captain look and goes "WAP is no joke!"!" The speedster laughed out loud along with everybody.

I was howling at that point, staring at Steve. Did the old man realize all the answers to his questions were a simple Google search away? "NO, he didn't, oh my God," I wheezed, suddenly having realized where it was going.

"He totally did!" Clint continued, giving Pietro a fond look and a chance to catch his breath. "The whole student population was laughing, tears rolling down their faces, as the principal started angrily ranting right in Steve's face. And he was just so, so-o confused. Man, his face..." Clint shook his head. "He left so freaking red in the face I thought he was going to have a heart attack. The students had started singing the song, the uncensored version - mind you - at some point and Steve just progressively got redder and redder."

"I'm seventy percent Irish, I can't help it!" Steve cried in his own defense, the famous blush on full display, but laughing nonetheless as he clutched onto his left boob for dear life.

"And one hundred percent dumbass!" Bucky clapped his boyfriend on the shoulder.

I nodded along, me and Tony a howling pile of limbs. The engineer himself was holding onto me for dear life, too winded to make any of his usual snarky commentary regarding Steve's epic failure. "Pure of heart, dumb of ass," I wheezed out my sudden realization.

"Shit, I'm getting that on a t-shirt," Tony sent himself into another cackle fest. "That's brilliant, Princess."

Bucky nodded along, "I'm buying one for this punk." He pointed at Steve, poking him in the right pec.

"Jerk," Steve's gaze was annoyed but fond as he gently shoved his boyfriend before placing a gentle kiss atop his head. Old people in love, so adorable.

"May I request one for my brother as well?" Loki interjected, eyebrow raised, eyeing Thor trying to pry open a carton of ice cream and failing to notice the little plastic lid covering the top part of it. The blonde was utterly oblivious both to his brother and to the chaos around him, set on his quest for salted caramel pecan creamy goodness. I couldn't say I didn't see the appeal...

"What did you call - himbos?" Stephen eyed me curiously, pointing to Thor and Steve with a shaky hand.

I nodded in response. "Harmless, loveable, kind, beefy and utter dumbasses," I pointed out the main characteristics. "I love himbos."

"You said my brain was sexy," Tony pouted, pressing me closer to him and in turn, making my legs wrap around Bruce in a funny way that brought all three of us in a weird sandwich hug. I must've died and gone to heaven once again. "This is bullshit," And Tony fuckin' bit me. The bastard sunk his teeth into my shoulder strong enough to leave a mark.

"I love big, fat brains. Unf," My attempt at a salacious voice only made people laugh. "No PhD, no pussy. I don't make the rules," I snorted loudly.

"You and your old man kink," Wanda chuckled good-naturedly, casting me a knowing glance over the tops of her friends' heads.

"Yes," I agreed solemnly, pulling Tony in for a kiss without an ounce of shame or reservation, catching Stephen's amused face meeting my eyes for a brief second, his eyebrow raised meaningfully. Looked like someone took my comment a little close to heart. Nobody really batted an eye at Bruce being in the middle of our cuddle puddle so if I had to guess, Stephen Strange was at least interested... Or was he silently judging me?

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

#bruce banner x reader #tony stark x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #bruce banner x you #tony stark x you #stephen strange x you #bruce banner x y/n #tony stark x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #party favours #bun writes

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minimitchell · 3 years

Note

Thank you! I’m the one who asked about a ballum ff and there is no rush at all. It would include smut but that’s ok no 🙂 It would be Ben & callum travelling in a night bus (to somewhere) and they’d be in the very back of the bus and none of the other passengers would notice their little action time (bottom Ben straddling callum). There’s no plot lol. Callum would actually be asleep and Ben waking him, hands already all over him/under his shirt and he would have some convincing to do for Callum to be on board with it. Or something like that. Could include some funny/embarrassing moments (for Callum).Tx! .. no need to post this maybe. 😇 Or just call it the night bus request. 🚌 💕

the fantasy of you and i keeps me up awake at night (ao3 link)

sorry it took a while, anon, but here we go. also this is so outside my normal comfort zone for smut but i'm hoping y'all enjoy it anyway.

Taking a bus from London to Amsterdam might easily be the worst idea they have ever had.

The worst part is that there isn’t even a solid reason for them doing this. It’s not like they can’t afford a flight to Amsterdam, they definitely can. But for some reason Callum somehow managed to talk him into taking a Flixbus across the channel, just to save a few bucks. We’re homeowners now, he said. We should save money where we can, he said.

Ben kind of hates how easily he folds when it comes to his husband.

They’re about halfway through the hours-long trip, somewhere in France in the middle of the night, and the already quite empty bus is dark and mostly silent, except for that one guy near the middle who’s snoring like a small chainsaw. It seems like all the passengers are dead asleep right now - everyone except for Ben that is.

Him and Callum are in the very last row of seats; Callum in the window seat and Ben next to him. There are rows of empty seats in front of them, all the way up to the middle portion of the bus, so at least there’s some illusion of privacy. It’s definitely better than the bus being filled to the brim.

Callum is turned towards the window, a sweater bundled together to rest under his head like a pillow. He always does this on long journeys and Ben isn’t jealous of it at all, no way. He just wishes he could fall asleep in a car or on a train or on a plane, but sadly he can’t. Not like his husband can.

Ben has never been able to sleep in a moving vehicle. Ever since he was little he just couldn’t do it. It’s always too loud or not dark enough or he isn’t comfortable enough to fall asleep. Which is a pretty unfortunate circumstance when you’re trapped in a bus for hours on end in the middle of the night.

At first, he tried doing other things to keep himself entertained. He watched some videos on his phone, bothered Jay until he obviously fell asleep himself and then tried just looking out the window at the French countryside. Nothing helped alleviate his boredom and he certainly wasn’t going to spend the rest however many hours just sitting around here.

He needed something to tire him out or at least keep him occupied for some time.

And he has just the idea what that could be.

Ben leans forward into Callum’s space, letting his hand run up and down Callum’s arm, slightly shaking to get him to wake up again. He can’t have been asleep for long, or in a deep slumber yet, because he starts twitching almost immediately; that familiar crease between his eyebrows appearing like it always does right before he wakes up.

“Babe? Babe. Cal, wake up.”

There’s only a groan as a response, but Ben can tell Callum is well on his way to consciousness right now. Even if he’s probably still hoping Ben will just leave him alone if he doesn’t engage.

“What?”

Callum turns around to face him, eyes still stubbornly closed; almost like he’s planning on falling back asleep once Ben has told him whatever he wants to say. Not if Ben gets his way though.

“I can’t sleep.”

Ben can feel more than hear the annoyed sigh Callum lets out at that. He cracks one eye open, peering down at Ben beside him, and whatever he finds must convince him he’s not going to go back to sleep for a while, because the next thing he does is sit up straighter, opening both of his eyes now.

He’s probably used to it after well over two years with Ben. His inability to fall asleep on the road has come up time and time again since they got together. At first, Callum thought it was a cute little quirk; like you always do when you’re first falling for someone and everything about them gives you butterflies.

He still gets them now, the butterflies, but by now Callum is probably more than aware of the fact that Ben’s sleeplessness when travelling affects him as well. Because Ben expects to be entertained by him, or at least for Callum to stay awake with him.

For the most part, Callum is fine with that seeing as they’re never really going anywhere one of them doesn’t drive to but on rare occasions like this one, it’s pretty damn grating. Callum definitely knows they’re both going to be tired and grumpy when they arrive in Amsterdam and that isn’t really how he wants to start this little getaway.

“Have you even tried?”

Ben rolls his eyes in the dark of the bus, only illuminated by the passing streetlights outside. He’s glad it’s not enough for Callum to see his expression; he needs to be on his best behavior if he wants to convince Callum of this idea in his head.

“You could help me fall asleep, you know.”

Ben’s hand runs over Callum’s thigh and dips lower to the inseam of his sweatpants, fingertips brushing against his dick over the soft fabric. Callum doesn’t turn away from the touch, but he does lift his thigh a little so that Ben’s hand dislodges from his place against his cock.

“Ben! No.”

“Come on. No one will notice.”

He leans in close to whisper the words into Callum’s ear, making sure to dart his tongue out and trace along the lobe for good measure afterwards. He’s not above pulling out all the stops to convince Callum to do this with him right now. It might have just been a quick throwaway idea, but the more he thinks about the possibility of it the hornier he finds himself getting.

His hand dips lower again; fingers dancing up and down Callum’s shaft. This time, Callum lets him continue his actions; his dick slowly but surely hardening under Ben’s touch.

“Absolutely not.”

Callum’s protest is weak, his voice already way too breathless to be taken seriously by Ben. If he really were against this, Ben would stop immediately. But he knows his husband pretty well and he can read his body like a book. Every little reaction is telling enough for Ben.

It’s all the go-ahead he needs.

“S’not what your dick says.”

As if to prove a point, Ben tightens his hand, reveling in the hard intake of breath Callum does in response to it. He can tell his husband is trying his hardest to keep the noises in. So much so that Ben almost lets the desire to coax each sound out of Callum overtake him, damning any embarrassing consequences it could bring.

“Because you keep, hm, keep touching it.”

Ben barely manages to keep his gleeful laugh in when Callum pushes his leg out, opening his thighs wider and giving Ben better access to his dick. It means he can crowd in even closer and twist his hand just right, now firmly holding onto his husband’s length. Callum’s head tips backwards against his seat, eyes closing against the onslaught of arousal.

The taught, white skin of his neck is too inviting for Ben not to lean down and attach his mouth to it, trailing up and down.

“Ben, we can’t. Not here.”

Callum leans far enough back to catch Ben’s eyes. Ben thinks he’s trying to look stern and he’d probably succeed if Ben didn’t have his hard cock in his hand right now. The least he can do is offer him some relief.

Ben’s free hand runs up Callum’s chest, his fingers playing with the collar of his dark blue sweatshirt. He presses his nose back up against Callum’s cheek, looking up at him from under his lashes. There’s a smile playing on his face that always seems to come so naturally to him whenever he’s with Callum, even if he’s trying to be sexy right now.

“We’ll be quiet.”

“You’ve never been quiet in your life during sex.”

It’s a good point. An extremely good point considering how many pointed comments they received that period of time they were living at Stuart and Rainie’s flat. Or from Lola before that. So yeah, Callum does have a point when he says he’s not the quietest person during sex.

And it’s not like he can talk as well. Callum is incredibly noisy when he wants to be. Or rather, when he lets himself be.

Maybe Ben just needs to take it up a notch in order to get Callum on board with this.

“It’ll be a laugh. Come on, I know you, baby. You like it a little dangerous. Out in the open. Remember, I know all your fantasies, babe.”

It’s true. Ben had an inkling that there was a secret exhibitionism kink hiding behind Callum’s big innocent giant act when he had no qualms about getting hot and heavy in the park during their first intimate encounter together, but he had no idea just how much Callum gets turned on by the chance of them being interrupted or heard by someone else.

He isn’t opposed to the odd quickie in the car lot or at the Arches when Ben is supposed to be working and anyone could walk in at any time. There are times he gets his husband so riled up with little comments and strategically placed touches that he drags Ben into the toilets in the Albert to give his mouth and hands something else to do. And they’ve even revisited that park once or twice to pay a little tribute to the thing that started it all between them.

So he knows perfectly well that the thought of doing anything here, where any other person on the bus could easily wake up and figure out what exactly they’re doing, must be quite exhilarating for Callum. He can’t really play the purity card when Ben can physically feel him growing harder at his hushed words.

Like he said, he knows Callum. They’re open and honest about what turns them on and off, what they like and dislike. No one has ever known him as intimately and deeply as Callum does and Ben knows it’s the same the other way as well. Ben loves that.

It also means that he can pinpoint the exact second Callum lets himself give in and shifts into what Ben teasingly calls his sexy mode. It’s a win for Ben, for sure.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Callum wraps his arm around Ben’s waist and tugs until Ben understands what he wants him to do. He sits himself square on Callum’s lap, legs resting on either side of Callum’s hips on the plush seats and fingers immediately finding a home in Callum’s hair, combing through the strands. He hasn’t had it cut in a while, too lazy to do it so close to their little holiday, and Ben can’t find the words to say just how much he loves it like this. He looks almost prince-like when it’s all soft and flat on his head and it’s the prettiest thing in the world to Ben.

“Thought you were gonna say I should be lucky I’m so fit.”

“Hm, that too.”

Callum’s smirk tastes a lot like bliss when their lips meet in a kiss, their tongues brushing almost immediately. Ben is trying hard to keep the sighs from escaping his throat, knowing they have to be quiet for this to go any further. But he can’t help it, kissing Callum is close to being the best thing he has ever gotten to do.

Even if he tried to convince himself otherwise at the time, Ben knew that first time they kissed each other that it was different with Callum; that it felt different with him. When their lips had met that night, he had felt it in his bones. Ben knows how rare it is to feel this way and Callum has never made him feel any different since.

Ben’s hands leave their place in Callum’s hair to travel down his chest, running over the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. He can feel the intake of breath Callum does when he reaches the edge of his sweatpants, fingers dipping under the waistband. Ben looks up to see if there’s any hesitation on Callum’s face, any sign that he isn’t one hundred percent on board with this, but Callum seems perfectly fine by the looks of it, with his eyes still closed like he wants to savor their kisses and the tips of his ears turning pink.

The grey fabric gets pushed down just enough for Ben to free Callum’s still hard cock, lazily sliding his fist up and down the shaft. Seeing Callum bite his bottom lip to refrain from making any noise at Ben’s actions fills him with a surge of heat that travels all throughout his body. Maybe they have to look more into this, if Callum’s inability to make much noise gets Ben so hot and bothered.

Right now though, he’s more concerned with getting himself undressed as well, just enough to get Callum in him. It’s a tight fit back here and Ben has to move around a fair bit to get his own pants far enough down to still be able to move on top of him. Ben has had sex in cars before so he knows how to maneuver himself, but a cramped seat on a bus is still vastly different from lying flat on your back in the backseat of a Ford.

They keep a small packet of lube in the side pocket of the backpack for situations just like this one and it turns out to be a godsend again and again, this time being no different. Ben is the first to admit he used to be a little bit slutty and while he doesn’t care for sex with anyone that isn’t Callum anymore, some remnants of that time in his life still remain. Remnants, for which having lube on hand at all times proves to be very helpful.

He’s glad Callum appreciates their spontaneity as well.

At any other time, Ben would let Callum open him up. His fingers are long and slender, thick enough to fill him just right, and they’re sure to drive him positively mad each and every time. Callum knows where and when to drag, to go fast or when to let Ben catch his breath to keep him teetering just on the brink.

But space is limited as it is and it’s easier for Ben to reach down and open himself up. Besides, seeing the way Callum’s face shifts into open hunger and desire as he watches Ben touch himself more than makes up for the lack of his husband’s fingers in him. There’s so much heat and open amazement for Ben in his eyes, it makes Ben breathless with want for the man in front of him.

The air around them feels thick and stuffy; charged in the best way possible. Ben keeps his lips firmly pressed together, effectively trapping in any sounds threatening to escape; his free hand digging into the skin of Callum’s biceps, making dents in the skin. They could easily be the only two people in this bus, in the world, right now. It feels like it; it always does.

Everything is zeroed down to just them when they’re together like this, like nothing else matters except for them making the other feel good. And he wants nothing more right now than to make Callum feel absolutely wrecked.

Ben detracts his fingers when he feels like he’s at least somewhat ready, reaching out to coat Callum’s dick with the excess lube on his hand. Before he can wrap his fingers around Callum’s length though, he’s stopped by a hand on his chest, causing him to catch his husband’s eyes almost immediately.

“Wait.”

Ben is about to climb down from Callum’s lap, thinking he has changed his mind about this and wanting to give him space, but Callum keeps him seated with a hand on his hip now. Instead, he’s leaning down himself, his other hand disappearing in the backpack still sitting in the space under their seat.

“What?”

The confusion doesn’t lift when Callum eventually finds what he must have been looking for, unearthing two condoms from somewhere in the bag. They obviously haven’t used condoms in ages but they still keep some just in case. Better than throwing them away, right? Ben just doesn’t understand what Callum wants with them now.

“I’m not about to get cum on this bus. And neither are you.”

Ben doesn’t really care about it, but he’s not going to start arguing with his husband when he’s this close to getting lucky. Callum could probably ask him to wear a clown costume and Ben would do it if it meant he’d get fucked by Callum in a timely manner. He’s that whipped for his husband’s dick.

He lets Callum roll the condom onto his dick, suppressing the moan clawing itself up his throat when Callum runs his fingers up and down the length of it for good measure. Maybe having to be completely silent while he’s getting laid is going to be more difficult than Ben had first thought.

Before Callum can put the condom on himself though, Ben stops him to do the honors himself, coating Callum’s dick with the excess lube still covering his other hand. He sinks down as slowly as he can, almost drawing blood from how hard he’s biting down on his bottom lip to keep quiet.

The fabric of Callum’s sweatpants is a stark contrast to his smooth skin and the feeling is simultaneously alien and exhilarating. They don’t have a lot of clothed sex, not like this anyway, and the almost foreign feeling against his bare ass is another stimulant for Ben’s already overloaded brain, all mixing together to create a mess of heightening arousal.

Ben eventually bottoms out, head tipped back and mouth open on a silent gasp. He can feel Callum’s heaving breaths where he’s pressed against him, his chest rising and falling in quick tempo.

“You good?”

Callum mumbles the words into Ben’s own shirt, pressed against his sternum. He sounds wrecked from just those two, little words; out of breath and completely wild. It’s one of the best sounds Ben ever got to hear; topped among other things only by Callum’s uninhibited moans when Ben makes him feel especially good.

Ben’s head tips back forward to nod at his husband, sealing their mouths back together when he begins to move. The rise and fall of his hips pushes sounds from him that he stifles by pressing his firmly-closed lips against Callum’s with all his might. Callum’s hands are fisted in Ben’s shirt, bunching up the back and wrinkling the dark red fabric.

It’s fucking good - it always is with Callum, better than anything he’s known before - but when Callum moves to adjust their bodies to meet Ben’s thrusts halfway, it becomes a little too good. On the next down movement, Callum thrusts up as well and the subtle change in their position means he’s now able to hit deeper, nudging right against that spot that makes Ben see stars.

Callum must be able to sense what this is doing to Ben, must be able to read his body and its tells better than he does himself, because he reaches around to clamp a hand over Ben’s mouth, pushing one finger in for Ben to bite down on it, nipping the scream that’s about to topple out of his mouth in the bud before it can be unleashed.

It would be a miracle if no one heard his moan, even muffled by Callum’s hand over his mouth, and Ben thinks they can really count themselves lucky if they didn’t manage to wake anyone up with it. He’d be more preoccupied with it, if he weren’t so trapped in the feeling of pure pleasure overtaking every nerve-ending in his body.

He’s panting hot against Callum’s hand now; heat spreading in his belly to announce his impending orgasm hurtling closer and closer. It doesn’t feel fair to Ben that he’s the only one struggling to contain his moans though; he thought Callum would have a lot more difficulties holding back.

It’s a good thing he knows Callum better than anyone; knows exactly what makes him lose control. It’s definitely a dirty trick to play but the whole reason they’re doing this right now is because they like it a bit dirty, right? So Ben doesn’t exactly feel bad when he lets one of his hands wander down to Calum’s chest, expertly finding his left nipple. He clamps his other hand over Callum’s mouth before he pinches his fingers, reveling in the way Callum’s hips involuntarily buck upwards in response.

Callum lightly bites the palm of his hand in retaliation and Ben can’t help but smile at it, even in the midst of heavy passion. He just really loves it when Callum is being silly and playful with him. Especially during sex.

The smile quickly dies down though when Callum’s free hand wraps around Ben’s cock, setting a punishing rhythm. Ben isn’t sure when this became seeing who can make the other come first, but he isn’t complaining. Not at all.

Not when it means he gets to feel that burning sensation take over his entire body, his muscles tensing and then relaxing as the waves of his climax wash over him. He must pinch Callum’s nipple again in his haze of pleasure, because he bucks into Ben again once, twice before he’s also coming. The hand that just moments ago had coaxed Ben’s orgasm out of him now snakes around his middle to pull him closer into Callum’s body.

They’re so close they might as well be one entity, one sole person. Their hands fall from each other’s mouths, wrapping around any skin they can reach to unite the two of them in a tight hug. Ben tucks his head into the crease of Callum’s neck, waiting until the tremors subside and their breathing returns to a normal pace.

It takes a lot longer than Ben would like to admit for him to regain the feeling in his legs enough to dismount and fall into the seat beside Callum again. He has just enough brainpower to take the condom off and tie it, thankful for Callum taking it off of him because he would have no idea how or where to get rid of it right now.

He pulls his pants and underwear back up, trying to make himself look at least a bit presentable, but his movements feel slowed down; his limbs already being pulled under the mantle of sleepy exhaustion.

Ben is still too out of it to notice what exactly Callum does to get rid of the condoms but whatever it is, it only takes him a few moments until he leans back into the seat, putting on his own clothes again as well.

“You okay, darlin’?”

“Hm. Tired.”

Callum lets out a quiet chuckle, pulling Ben into his side, letting him tuck himself into his body. He’s definitely all too aware of the fact that Ben always conks out almost immediately after sex and Ben feels his eyes fall shut as soon as his head is pillowed on Callum’s chest.

The last thing he’s conscious of is Callum pressing a kiss to his forehead, mumbling something about getting Ben to shut up, before finally, finally, falling asleep for the remainder of their journey.

He’ll have to keep this in the back of his mind for the ride back.

#ballum #ballum fic #my wriring #posting this now to hopefully get over that block i have about my bb

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Ducktales: The Treasure of the Lost Lamp Movie Reviewcap! (Patreon Stretch Goal)

Hello all you happy people! And we have a special review today for two reasons. The first is that this is my second patreon stretch goal review, having hit the 15 dollar goal back in march thanks to my wonderful friend Emma, the same patreon whose responsible for the Green Eggs and Ham Reviews, who helped me hit the 15 dollar goal. As a result you fine people are getting three movie reviews each based on a Disney Afternoon Movie with Treasure of the Lost Lamp today, a goofy movie at the end of the motnh for a weeklong tribute to my favorite dogmandadguy. Extremley was going to be part of it but the length of this review convinced me otherwise, but I will be doing it this summer so keep an ear out. If you want to help me hit my next stretch goals do yourselve a favor and zip on over to my patreon YOU CAN FIND MY PATREON HERE. My next stretch goal at “OH Look 20 Dollars” would give everyone patreon and not, a monthly review of Darkwing Duck as decided by my patrons, reviews of BOTH season 2 mini series from Ducktales 87, introducing Fenton to the world and blighting it with Bubba before the 2017 series fixed him, and as a brucey bonus added last month a review of Danny Phantom the Ultimate Enemy. And if that wasn’t enough if you help me get to the goal after that at 25 unlocks another trilogy of disney film reviews, this time for the proud family and recess movie and the best kim possible movie, and dcom period, so the drama as well as Bryan Lee O’ Malley’s two stand alone graphic novels, lost at sea and seconds for you Scottaholics in the audience.

The other reason now the shilling’s done. is that the plan WAS to review this back to back with Treasure of The Found Lamp, to the point the orginal review had a whole thing about that, why it was delayed etc... but now that review’s been scrapped all together as something sudden and wonderful happened. After just kinda giving up someone came through with a translation of Della’s first apperance so presumibly i’ll be doing that as part of the build up to mother’s day, and since I still want ot do maternal instincts too, and already had to let the Floyd Gottfredson birthday special slide away as well... it had to go as I want to leave the only open space on the schedule for the lovely person who found the story for me. But this review is still done, i’m very proud of it so join me under the cut won’t you?

Behind The Scenes: Before I get into it i’d just like to note this article from SyFy Wire. It , along with articles I found via wikipedia citations, was an invaluable resource.

The film was an experiment: It was an experiment to see if one of their tv properties could bring in theatrical money, to see if a movie made on a cheaper budget and still rake in decent money, to see if a film could be made being outsourced to several diffrent places, and to see what one of those places, their recently aquiried french stuido, could handle this kind of work.

The film, if succesful would be the first of Disney’s MovieToons line, a series of films based on their shows. As you can tell by the fact only this movie and Goof Troop happened and the Movie Toons label wasn’t applied to that one it very much failed. While the film was warmly recevied by people who liked the show general audiences didn’t turn out for it. As a result the MovieToons label was scrapped, future projects with it were canceled.. but the stellar work put in by the french stuidio lead to it perserviering for several more decades and lead to them working on the Goofy Movie, which we’ll get to later this month but needless to say was a MUCH bigger hit with a much bigger budget.

As for why the film failed... I have two theories. THe first is that parents were stupid back then and didn’t want to pay to see something on the big screen they could see on tv’s. This is a stupid mentality to me as generally a movie of a tv show puts in a ton of extra effort and usually goes bigger and dosen’t go home. It’s a likely theory given most liscened films of the era didn’t do quite well, with all three hasbro films tanking. And look I get Transformers the Movie is cheesy and killed a lot of people’s childhood toys, but damn if it ain’t aweosme.. and also something I need to cover at some point. Thankfully this died out by later in the 90′s with Rugrats getting a hugely succesful if flawed film, a better sequel and a third one that was also a crossover with the wild thornberries.

And even now in 2020 we’re getting the Loud House and Rise of the TMNT movies sometimes this summer, we were SUPPOSED to have gotten the bobs burgers movie this summer but arne’t because Disney is being a dick about it.

And we got a phineas and ferb movie last year. With this trend hopefully thsi means we’ll get a Ducktales 2017 movie at some point since season 4 left a huge sequel hook laying right there to grab for a feature film. One final note: The film was conceptually thought up as a 5 part serial like “Treasure of the Golden Suns”, “Catch as Cash Can”, “SuperDucktales” and “Time is Money, something that DOES show as the movie weirdly has act breaks. In a feature film. Yup.

The Guest Cast:

I won’t go into the full cast since I’ve sung Alan Young and Russi Taylor’s praises PLENTY on this blog before, and I plan to go into Beakly and Launchpad’s actors when they show up in the pilot movie. But i’d be remiss if i didn’t talk about our three guest actors for our three new parts.

First up is Merlock voiced by legend and if I had a hall of fame, hall of famer Christopher Lloyd.. I need to get me one of those. Lloyd is of course known for playing Doc Brown in back to the future but has done countless other films, voicework, and other good stuff. Among his MASSIVE filmography includes The Back to the Future Trilogy (Already mentioned it but it bears repeating), Star Trek III, Who Framed Roger Rabbit as the pants destroyingly terrifying Judge Doom, The Addams Family duology as fester, a role rip torn would ironcially play for the animated series made to captalize on said movie, Hey Arnold! The Movie, The Oogieloves in The Big Ballon Adventure (Look everybody needs money sometimes okay?), and Art of the Deal: The Movie, which was not, thankfully an ego filating nightmare made by trump himself but a film made by funny or die parodying his terrible book and having Llloyd return as Doc Brown. TV Wise he’s known for Taxi, Back to the Future the Animated Series, Cyberchase and he most recently popped up on Big City Greens. How I missed that ep I.. do know as I haven’t watched season 2. Gonna fix that later this month. Lloyd is utterly awesome, a great guy and thankfully still alive at the time of this writing, so I was happy to have him here.

Less familiar to me but still known is Rip Taylor, a comedian known for his flamboyant unique way of speech and his marvelous mustache. He showed up in things occasionally and always seemed like the nicest guy and his passing in late 2019 truly is sad. He does a terrific job here but more on that in a moment.

Finally we have Richard Libertini, a comedian I never really saw in anything besides this who according to IMDB was most famous for his ablility to do a foreign accent. I REALLY hope all of them aren’t as horribly racist as this one. We’ll.. get to that in a sec as it’s time for the plot!

A Treasure Uncovered:

We open our film gorgeously. The animation is great in the film, having some rough edges I chalk up to the film’s hectic production, the studio being new at working at disney properties, and the film not being meant for HD. That being said a few rough spots here and there aside.. the film looks ungodly gorgeous. Like most theatrical films based on a cartoon it takes an already great style and makes it look great. It feels like a more fluid evolution of the cartoons look and it’s a shame we didn’t get more movies in this style for both this show and others, ESPECIALLY Darkwing Duck. Can you imagine a Darkwing Duck movie with this lush animation? Hopefully we’ll get one eventually.

So our heroes are going to somewhere in the Middle East. That’s.. that’s all wikipedia gives me and all the film gives me. As usual Scrooge is after treasure in this case the Treasure of Collie Baba, the greatest thief there ever was based obviously off Ali Baba from 1001 nights and that one Beastie Boys song.

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It’s here we find the WORST thing about the film, the thing that makes this a hard one to watch depsite otherwise being pretty good, and that makes my skin crawl knowing i’m a white man and a BUNCH of white guys, Ducktales series creator who did the voice casting for this character, the writers who wrote him, the direector disney them fucking selves who thought this was okay.

The film has some horrible steroytping. It starts with a bunch of backgorund guys surronding Scrooge, with crooked teeth and steotypical voices. This on it’s own is odious.

It somehow gets worse. Then we meet one of our antagonists. We meet Dijon.

This Fucking Guy

Djon is horribly offensive reminding me of other such luminaries in being ungodly offensive yet somehow getting put to film as Jar Jar Binks (With all respeect to his poor actor Ahmed Best, this is not his fault), Rob Schinder as a Sterotypically asian preist, Skids and Mudflap, Rob Schinder as a sterotypically mexican bandit, The Whitewashed cast of The Last Airbender, and Rob Schinder as a stereotypically asian preist. What i’m saying is Djon is an AWFUL, horribly offensive character.. and that Rob Schinder should be shot up into space, not to watch cheesy movies, he’s not funny enough for that, but instead to be sent to a satlitie that’s liveable, but also filled to the brim with spring loaded boxing gloves. Just tons of boxing gloves that feel like getting punched by a heavewight boxer all hidden... they could hit his legs, his face, his nuts, his face and his nuts, the point is he’s in constnat pain unless he moves carefully.

And lest you think i’m exaggerating for starters this is his design.

It just screams “vaugely but sterotpyically middle eastern” along with cowardly. The fact he’s also a literal rat is just the icing on the cake made of broken glass, shrapnel and broken DVD’s of Transformers; Revenge of the Fallen. They say if you eat a reveng eof the fallen dvd John Tutoro appears at the foot of your bed and watches you while you sleep.. and by they I mean me. It was a bad bet. I got rid of him with some insese and a bribe of five dollars.

Oh but that’s just design.. when he talks it’s MUCH worse. His voice is like if they took Apu from the simpsons and said “This but MORE offensive”, and his perosnality is WORSE. He’s a thief.. and not in the endearing loveable rogue way but he’s a pick pocket and a running “Gag’ is that he’ll often grab eveyrthing within reahc. As the deisgn shows he’s a coward running at every opportunity. Oh and to top it all off he’s the willing servant of the white coded, given all ducks in this series are white coded and voiced bby white actors, big bad. And the actor is naturally VERY white to make this cocktail of offensivness so complete that if Disney ever got rid of this film I GUARANTEE the republcian party would be running in with accusations of cancel culture gone amok and never shutting up about this like they did the muppets. Which for the record THEY DIDN’T CANCEL THEM, YOUR POINT IS ILLEGITMATE, THEY JUST WANTED TO BE SENSTIVE YOU GHOULS.

I do have a reason for bringing up Disney’s content warnings... most damming of all given just how DEEPLY uncomfortbale this character is.. there isn’t one for this movie. I double checked: There isn’t even wanring notes on the website. It’s just.. on there. And given just how ghastly a sterotype Djon is.. that’s not right. Seriously they DID put them on certain episodes of the show, theyk now this sort of thing is wrong and they done wrong.. but for NO reason they haven’t done so for a film released 31 years ago. Around the same time as the series and just offensive as that show at it’s worst if not more so. This is flatly inexcusable.. par for the course for Disney’s incompetence but still horribly furstrating, disgusting and shameful.. which has been the theme of the last three days really. I expect better because when it comes to putting that warning label on this stuff, they usually are better. First the scheduling mixup and now this. You already do a handful of things wrong Disney why add this to the list?!

It’s just draining not only to run into another Disney Fuckup after a weekend of dealing with one of their worst in recent memory, but just to watch Djon. To see this horrible caractrure saunter onto the screen and go on with his harmful schtick, to see that THIS is what Ducktales 87 reduced non white people to more often than not. It’s remarkable just how throughly and awesomely Frank and Matt completely and totally reversed this. Instead of horrible sterotypes in the reboot, we got TONS of loveable people of color, an endearing latino hero, a smart african american buisness woman who takes no shit but is still a consumate professional, and an egyptian HERO with an intresting story and a strong moral code instead of this horrible reminder that racisim in media was such an afterthought not ONE person brought this up during the scyfy wire stuff or in any inteview i’ve seen. No one cared. Djon was POPULAR enough that he got three episode sin the series. THREE FUCKING EPISODES. This film could be GOOD.. but it’s just so bogged down EVERY FUCKING TIME this artists interpreitation of what Tucker Carlson sees when he looks at a middle eastern person I had to pause to compose myself and had to take a break writing this review to avoid tyiping this in all caps and using the phrase YOU RACIST MOTHERFUCKERS every other sentence. And again i’m white, I get this is second hand offensiveness.. I do... but it dosen’t mean I can’t be offended other white people were so callous about other cultures behaviors this happened.

And what makes me feel worse.. is that I just sorta... never thought about white people voicing non white characters. Things like this I noticed sure, I realize now part of the reason I didn’t like this movie the first time I saw it was this alex jones version of a looney tune, but I do feel shame for not noticing or caring long before this. Sure I loved it when a character of color got played by a person of color.. but I didn’t realize just how deep that problem was and how LONG it went on for before the outcry post george floyd and the call to action lead to most shows still going course correcting. It’s why stuff like this extra botehrs me: because THIS was just as okay at the time. No one blinked twice about this and odds are the creators involved still haven’t. And that.. that’s just terrible and it hurts to think about and I still have most of the movie to go.

The Pyramid of Peril:

So we do get a gorgeous unvewling scene of a box Scrooge found out about from Collie Baba’s horde that should lead them to the treasure. This scene reminds me of Indina Jones.. and I bring this up because the poster was specifically made to mimick an indinia jones poster, to the point of getting drew struzan to do it. THe creator of Ducktales objected..l but I do not get WHY. While I”m not sure if he had yet, Speilberg flat out admits the Carl Barks comics were an inspiration for Indina Jones, with the iconic bolder chase coming from a similar scene in one of Barks Stories. Gotta cover that too. So yeah I don’t get not wanting an indina jones style poster when both were inspiried by the same work and it’s just simple logic and it looks so neat. Thank you.

Scrooge finds seemingly just clothes.. and a map. Jeff Dunham’s Most Racist Puppet reports to his master, Merlock. Merlock is a.. meh villian. Christopher Lloyd does try.. but Lock is your standard evil overlord wants to take over the world type. He dosen’t have much depth, or personality and only his style saves him from dragging the film down along with Dana Carvey’s most racist disguise in master of disguise. He does have a deent shape shifting gimick and being played by Christopher Lloyd means he’s acted TREMENDOUSLY. Alan Young was apparently in awe watching him work and that’s wonderful to hear. The guy did his best. Weirdly Merlock would show up in tons of other works, mostly video games.. but even weirder he NEVER showed up in ducktales 2017. Both Djon and Gene would, Djon thankfully renamed we’ll get to all of that tommorow thank god. I need it after this. But Frank has outright said they didn’t use Merlock because there simply wasn’t anything they could do with him they couldn’t dow ith magica. My likely guess is the might of found a way to revamp him EVENTUALLY, it’s not like radical revamps weren’t there thing come on, they just had way more stories with Magica and didnd’t get around to it before the show was canceled. Just make him some sort of evil god or something. it’s what I might do. There’s a lot of angles with him. Though I would’ve still gotten christopher lloyd back. I mean most of the recasting is good but he’s still alive and deserved a better shot at things.

So Merlock sends Djonn to go with scrooge as his guide to find the treasure, as there’s something of imense power within it. And I gotta ask WHY does Merlock need a minon. No really. This isn’t a situation like reboot magica where he’s trapped in another realm. He can shapeshift into any animal. We only see him use falcon, rat, cockroach and bear but theoritically he can become anything and bear alone is still a LOT. Why does he need this sterotype even other sterytopes ar eashamed of? The film dosen’t NEED Djonn. Just let Christopher Lloyd monologue and leave this post 911 propogranda cartoon at home.

So our heroes nad rejected jar jar prototype head into the desert, and seemingly find nothing before finding a small pyramid all while Merlock follows desecretley as a mighty hawk.

Scrooge makes the boys and Djon dig... because they clearly forgot the “work hard” part of his ethos.

Our heroes unveil the pyramid... and while Merlock SAYS he searched the desert and I get it’s hard to see thourgh all of that.. the dude is immortal, had decades to search and had Mickey Rooney there on standby to force him to go comb the desert. I have an artist rendering of that hang on

So our heroes enter the pyramid and it goes.. really how you’d expect: there’s a bunch of traps our brave explorers have to pass, the boys minintpret a juinor woodchuck saying about loosing your marbles to mean using the ones they actually have which geninely comes in handy as they trip the traps and Rob SChinder as a carrot stumbles into one. Also launchpad is wearing a hawaiin shirt and shades. This has no baring on the plot, but it does bring the movie up a notch in my book and I question why the reboot never used this outfit. Then again they also never properly used Donald’s Quack Pack Outfit (Which bad show or not, is objectively awesome), or his Quack Shot Indiana Jones Riff Outfit, so it’s not like there isn’t a presdecnt for not giving a character a cool costume change from a previous medium. I really should do a top 12 missed opportunities list for the 2017 cartoon.. the ideas for stuff are really piling up.

OUr heroes eventually find the treasure which has insidiously clever security the more I think about it: at first I thought it had none, just a pit with some... scorpions? I mean their supposed to be but they look like they crawled out of the same stygian hole in the sky Doofus crawled out of. And if your asking me “wait which Doofus” the answer is both. Both these abominations crawled out of a stygian hole in the sky.

But the treasure is on a platform surrounded by scoprions with the only way out being the trap filled way they came in. Unless someone comes in with a full team and a bunch of lootin sacks, they aren’t getting out with EVERYTHING. They can steal SOME of the treasure but there’s no way to get any signifigant portion... and the team thing itself is an issue, something Collie defintely predicted being a thief himself: while some thieves can work well as a team, hence why we have four oceans movies 3/4 damn good, and for the record 12 is the bad one, 8 is how you do a soft reboot and a female led reboot right, a good chunk of professional crooks will turn on each other or try and swinldle... and tha’ts dangerous in a trap filled temple but hey some criminals ain’t so smart. If they all were Rudy Gulliani wouldn’t have two razzies for preparing to pull his pants down, and have waved his phone around on tv like a dare for future adminstrations to arrest the shit out of him would he?

But Scrooge has his family so they get loading. But not before Webby finds the lamp. Not knowing about it Scrooge has no intrest in it, but Webby does. We also get a really simple but hilarious gag where SCrooge dickers over the idea for a second.. before Webby picks up a Jeweled tiara to possibly take instead. The best gags to me are often the ones that just let the character’s perosnalities take the lead and bounce off each other. It’s why when I reviewed the four lilo and stitch crossovers recently I harped on character interaction as their biggest weakness: it’s what MAKES a good work for me. It’s why my faviorite comics and shows often follow a loveable group of disfunctional misfits. I like a group of big personalities who despite in theory should NOT be able to work making it work anyway. And it’s honeslty what’s made Scrooge last so long: Scrooge on his OWN is awesome.. but iwth the boys, donald, and in the case of this series and the reivival Webby and Launchpad, with people to bounce off of who he contrasts heavily with, from Launchapd’s buffonery to Webby’s inehrent sweetness in both versions, to the boys genuine honesty and sense of adventure.... it makes him truly stand out. He’s a great character on his own, don’t get me wrong.. but it’s the people around him that give him chances to show WHY. A good character on it’s own is fine and dandy.. a good character with other good characters around them is where it gets truly special.

Merlock naturally bursts in and in a VERY Black Heron move needlesly outs what micheal bay sees when he closes his eyes as a bad guy... no really he grabs the guy with his talons as he captures the treasure and reveals he’s a bad guy. I don’t even get why keep Djonn alive. He’s done all Merlock possibly could’ve needed and Merlock is ruthless... this makes no sense and only happens because they need Djonn for later in the plot.

Our heroes barely escape, rafting out on the platform itself in a thrilling sequence.. but it’s the one right after that catches my attention. Scrooge utterly defeated, having searched for this treasure for forty years and unresponsive to everyone else. The anmation, coupled with the incomprable Alan young’s acting makes this the highlight of the film for me. Beneath the armor of wealth and skill.. is only a poor old man who just lost something he’s been chasing after most of his life. Scrooge tries his hardest not to be vunerable and both shows and the original comics all use that so when he truly is devistated like this, and i’ts belivible since this treasure is a personal goal of his and as someone who has had things that they seek out specifically, loosing them always hurts. It hurts to ALMOST reach a goal only to have it crumble out under you

But while this alone is good.. what’s next makes it great. Webby sweetly offers up the lamp. Scrooge turns it down, and her genuine gesture reinvgorates him and reminds us of who he is “I’ll find it if it takes another 40 years”> Scrooge may be bitter, mean and selfish a lot of the time.. but deep down, he’s a good man and one who will not give up, and a momentary setback can only stop him so long as long as he has his family to remind him of who he truly is.. and what’s truly important. It’s genuinely sweet and to me is also a reminder of why 87 Webby is a good character: Shes’ not perfect, her main personality trait is often Girl Sterotype”.. but she’s a genuinely sweet small child with a huge heart. It’s telling that while 17′ Webby is almost completely diffren,t and far better, that heart remains her biggest strength. Sure her reboot self could kill a man nad no one would ever find the body, but it’s her heart and empathy that makes that possible and makes her Webby. That inherent loving nature is what makes Webby webby wether she’s a toddler having a tea party or a tween getting ready to intergoate a guy with a meat tenderizer while saying ‘Cute girl stuff”.

Gene Genie Let’s Himself Go:

It’s a few days later and this is the point where it REALLY becomes obvious this was written as a bunch of episodes. Though to the film’s credit while it does ake this feel like a compliation movie as a result... it dosen’t hamper the film’s quality, condiment from Rush Limbaghs’ hot dog stand does that just fine, but once you notice it it’s impossible to unotice it. Weirdly though it seems chunked up into four episodes rather than the usual five, likely cutting down an episode, though I can’t see where they cut out material frankly if they did and i’ts just as likely they woudl’ve had to make one to fill in the space.

So Scrooge is in a mood, being grumpy with his secretary Mrs. Featherly, quackfaster in all but name, and having to be sent home. So while Duckworth goes to fetch him Webby polishes her treasure at long last readying for a tea party, something the boys roundly reject because their sexist little twits and swo were the writers or executies who assumed all little boys act the same. It’s easily my biggest pet peeve with the series as a whole: anytime this crops up with the boys it turns them into the worst dicks imaginable. It’s telling this, being mean about her wantin ga tea party with her surrogate brothersi s TAME. Normally they’ll say she can’t do things because she’s a girl or mock her hobies outright instead of just be mildly dickish. And while she dosen’t look much younger Webby is VERY CLEARLY, in this series anyway, supposed to be say 5 or 6 to the boys 8-10. 7 at most. SHe’s a small child and while it is realistic for older kids to bully younger ones, it’s not fun to watch. It’s why I get annoyed at all the big sibling bully characters.. some work, but most aren’t fun to watch because there’s nothing funny or intresting about it. It’s the same deal here.

Thankfully that quickly goes away as the lamp moves when Webby rubs it and does so again to prove it did move. Huey finishes it and we’re introduced to Gene, the best part of the film. Gene is a Genie and he takes a second to dart around before messing with the appliances in the kitchen, as he was last around during the time 1001 Nights Came About. Cleverly though, and so we thankfully don’t have 80 dozen fishout of water jokes that have already been done before. As you can probably guess i’m not a huge fan of time travel fish out of water stuff. Now from another dimensoin or planet, i’m on board with with Star Vs, Steven Universe and Sym-Bionic Titan being great examples of this, as is the comic resident alien. (Despite having the wonderous Alan Tuduk the show sounds way more mean spirited and misses the entire point of the comic as given by the author in the credits, i.e. that the alien is supposed to NOT be a threat and just be gently waiting for a ride) The inverse is also good with Amphbia and owl house, taking a human and plopping them into our world. But time travel stuff just usually runs the same beats of “look at the shiny thing” and what not. The only time i’ve sene something SIMILAR work is with thor where their society is SIMILAR to vikings time but still it’s own thing.. it also gave us a classic gag in..

So yeah i’m glad they dropped this and instead had a clever way around it: Gene reads the encylopedia at the mansion. Granted it’s Scrooge so I don’t know how current it is and given this came out in 1990 thus HOW racist it is. It’s not a questoin of IF it was, but how much.

But having caught up the kids confront him with the fact he has to grant wishes. This lamp runs on what I now realize are Aladdin rules: Whoever currently holds the Lamp is the Genie’s master, they only get three wishes, and that dosen’t reset if it changes hands. The only big diffrence from the usual is Gene dosen’t have to TELL them about the wishes like Genie did, and Gene very begrudginly agrees to it. He also seem’s phsyically pained when doing so.

So since all 12 know about him, each of the kids gets a wish though it seems unfair with HDL. Their one person, they shoudln’t get 9 wishes just because their brain is spread out over three bodies.

This film continues the weird simliarties to Aladdin by attaching rules though they instead come up as a result of our heroes talking rather than the Genie just flat out tleling them: both share the “you can’t wish for more wishes” thing, a common rule in these stories and usually only broken nowadays as a clever twist as the rule is SO common place, not having it is a twist. But it is there for a reason: to limit the sheer power of a reality warping wish. The wishes can also only go so far. In a nice line, when Huey, Dewey or Louie suggests wishing for peace one earth, Gene says “No pipe dreams’ He can’t bend people or reality on THAT scale. He can bend reality as we find out, but it’s smaller scales like turning someone’s possesions over ot someone else, warping the bin into a castle, or bringing inanitamte objects to limited life. Still HUGE feats worth of a genie, so Gene’s power isn’t so nerfed it’s unusuable, but it does explain why his evil pervious ownder Merlock, more ont hat in a bit too, didn’t just wish to have eternal dominon over the earth or something. Gene can do just about anything but he can’t change the world on a fundemental level.

And I do LIKE having rules in wished based stories like this, I chalk it up to growing up with Fairly Odd Parents... though they eventually went too far in the oppsoitie direction, pulling rules out of their ass to suit the episode, instead of simply having some very standard, very understandable rules that still pose challenges but don’t outright cheat so the episode can happen.

So Webby does her first wish.. and wishes for a Baby Elephant, something Gene is against as he prefers they keep the wishes small: otherwise he gets found out, and the fight over him begins. So one of the boys wishes him away. Or Webby does. Point is it’s gone though not before Beakly sees it and Scrooge smells something is up. Our heroes try to hide gene, but gene thankfully simply dresses up like a modern kid and thus is able to pass as a friend of there staying for the night.

So with the rules established and what not the kids find a clever solution: they simply go a ways away from the mansion into the woods, far enough from town to avoid any suspcion, and same iwth the mansion and just wish for all kinds of stuff: a giant bunch of ice cream toys, standard kid wish fufillment but it’s nice... in part because the kids treat Gene like one of them. Wihle they STARTED asking him about the wishes, this starts the bonding process. Soon he will be part of the hive mind.. SOON.

Until then though after using another wish to make scrooge not mad at them for coming home late and missing dinner, that night we find out Gene’s backstory.... and it’s an utter tearjerker. As it turns out Merlock wants him back because he’s Gene’s former master and as you’d guess.. it was NOT a happy existnace, used contstnatly to do horrible things with no power to stop himself. Pompeii and Atlantis were both directly Merlock’s fault and it was only Collie Baba stealing the lamp that put an end to his hell. He also answers the two obvious questions botht he audeiince and the boys have: How the hell is Merlock still alive and shoudln’t he be out of wishes then? The first is simple. Unlike pretty much every DBZ Villian whose WANTED to do so, Merlock wished for immortality first chance he got, taking the Zamasu route instead and thus leaving him free.

As for the wishes thing it turns out his amulet, in adition to shapeshifting, also gives him extra wishes becuase fuck it.

But the boys sweetly offer to protect him.

The next day, Apu’s Cousin let’s Merlock know the maps in the mansion and Merlock has him help sneak in with Merlock taking rat form. This backfires as Mrs. Beakley notices the form and chases after him with a broom

Meanwhile Webby has her tea party with Gene after he and the boys played cops and robbers earlier, and he’s bored.. though nicely not because it’s a girly thing, but because the stuffed animals aren’t alive and she naively has him fix that. This leads to

Which sadly is jsut scrooge vs a duck toy but admit it, you want that movie for Disney Plus yesterday. Call Charles Band Disney. CALL CHARLES BAND!

Whelp Scrooge Still Sucks:

Scrooge takes for a turn for the obnoxious in the next part, but i’ts fine by me as it’s part of the plot. Naturally this reinactment of Cult of Chucky has lead to Scrooge finding out about the Genie. To his credit, Scrooge is tactical about his wishes. As said by the Duck himself “I could wish for a diamond, no the world’s biggest dimaond, no ten world’s biggest diamond, no a diamond mind, no the MINING INDUSTRY!”

The sheer power this gives him is TERRIFYING, both because of his status.. and because unlike the kids who all wished for simple kid stuff and used up their wishes quickly, he both gets how much he can do with this and could conquer the world economy if he truly wanted to.

The obnoxious part comes in as he treats Gene as not a person, figuring he’s just there and forces him into the lamp despite the kids protests after Gene grants his first wish: Collie Baba’s treasure. It also dosen’t feel like the wishing nor him using the lamp to get the tresure back goes against his hard work ethos: for the former while he is getting all this magically, he’s still having ot use his wits to get the most out of it, and he did earn the lamp itself square. For the latter, he already earned the treasure square too and had it stolen. He’s onlyg etting back what’s by all rights HIS. Granted he plans on giving most of it up for a tax break but still it’s his by right.

However the reason his assholery works is twofold: first it’s Scrooge. While he’s not a TERRIBLE person, in the comcis and this cartoon he isn’t a GOOD person either. He DOES have a good heart and will usually do the right thing, but his first instnct is always to get more money and to be a cantakerous old bastard to eveyrone and everything. While he’s subtly grew out of “I hate eveyrone and everyone hates me” as his guiding principal, it’s still his defualt reaction to most situations. But he first relents by letting Gene attend the party, part of why the Collie Baba thing stung so bad was that he’s told the historical society he’d get the treasure for years only to come back empty handed, if shrunken. But he still manages to have a good time while Asok and Merlock infiltrate.. well I’mRunningOutofINsultingNIcknamesCanYouTell steals the silverware. Yes... that.. that really happens.

Look we’re almost done, i’m almost free of this racist mummies curse. Let’s continue. Gene sees melock and freaks and drags SCrooge with him and while at First Scrooge is cranky...

No but now I want a Donkey Kong Country crossover too dammmit. And to talk about those games. Another thing for the list. But Scrooge is righ tot be a bit surly...

Okay now your just pushing it. As Gene whisked him away without telling him anything other than vauge worries... but then he gets a full idea of why Gene’s so terrified when Merlock shapeshifts into a bear and starts breaking the door down. Eh, could be worse.

Gene shrinks them to escape and Merlock leaves thinking they fled but leaves Skids Minus Mudflap to go look for them. Scrooge sneaks out but bumps into a cart running from the photo you see when you look up stereotype on google. I mean I assume.. let’s try it.

Huh you know I HOPED but I never expected...

So Google Proving My Point plans to give his lamp to the master because of his weird Torgo-Esque obession with helping a man who clearly wants to murder him but takes his sweet time doing so because plot, and Gene figuring this COULDN’T POSSIBLY go as bad as Melock getting him urges the dummy to keep him and make his own wishes.

This goes about as well as you’d expect....

Wiped Out With A Wish:

Scrooge returns home to find Watto has wished to take his poessions, fortune, everything and Scrooge gets thrown in jail for breaking into his own house. We get two great moments back to back. The first is Scrooge lamenting loosing his fortune in jail, and realizing the sheer power and risk of the lamp, especially since he worked hard to earn it, every bit of it.. and Sam Wilson’s 70′s Backstory came in and took it all in an instant.

The second is Scrooge’s family coming for him, including Launchpad , Beakly and Webby obviously and bailing him out. Though Beakly is UNGOLDLY annoying in this scene, sobbing hysterically and adding nothing and it’s not nearly as funny as the film thinks. Turns out Goliath getting buried wrapped in chains threw them out.

Scrooge takes a bit to rebound from all this.. but eventually realizes something: he knows the security of the bin inside and out. He had it put in after all. So it’d be easy enough to break in. So they gotta break in to break out the lamp, undo this nightmare, and END THIS MOVIE. Seriously this review has taken two days as is I do NOT want to miss my invincible review.

So they break into the bin, and it’s a tightly paced Scene, scrooge going in one way while the kids go the other and we even get a nice callback as the marbels come in handy to get past one of the traps. It’s just a good scene. it’s only real flaw is that Launchapd just sorta disappears as does Duckworth despite the fact their in a plane, and the bin later gets turned into a floating castle. Kinda a plot hole to not have Launchpad crash in to save htem just saying.

Scrooge eventually does get to Djonn, whose been ignoring the imminent threat of Merlock while Gene sweats it out... and this backfires horribly as Merlock hitched a ride as a roach (Though there was a hilarious scene of him getting fried constnatly by lasers when Louie went through a laser hallway, as while Louie had the directions, it dind’t take into account passengers on your head.

So Merlock remanifests in full gets the Lamp and unleashes his wrath on Tin Tin in the Congo and turns him into a wild pig.

Not you sweetie. He then forces Gene to turn the castle into a fortress and float it back to his home in parts unknown. It’s a DAMN cool scene with impressive and horrifiing animation as the bin melts and crumbles into thte castle and the kids barely make it up the stares as they shift and disolve. Really top notch stuff.

Scrooge stands up to Merlock... and this naturally goes poorlyw ith Gene begging Merlock not to respond.. and Merlock having him blow scrooge off the top of the forgtess storm eagle style, though scrooge understands. And this is the true reason why scrooge being a dick didn’t bother me so much. Because it helps create a great contrast between him and Merlock. Both thought of Gene as a tool rather than a person.. but Scrooge grew to realize he was wrong and what he was dealing with wasn’t some magical goodies creator.. but a child forced to constantly grant wishes, in sheer agony to do so no less, likely so sick of it because again and again and again people used him as a slave to get what they wanted and to hell with what Gene wanted. He realized he was terrible for making this poor boy into his slave simply because that’s his job. In contrast Merlock could give no shits and is a malevolent monster who glefully uses Gene despite the pain the wishes put him through and his protests. It’s why Gene is the best part.. he’s athroughly likeable, throughly inncoent character with tons of personality and a truly tragic and horrifying backstory and Rip Taylor acts the hell out of every scene with the guy.

Thankfully the marbles come in handy one last time and Huey, Dewey or Louie snipes the lamp away and a struggle for it insues between Scrooge and Merloc mid air. it’s fucking awesome.. and it get sbetter in how scroogewins. He simply gets rid of Merlock’s amulet, taking it then throwing it. Grante dhe COULD’EVE used it for unimited wishes.. but it was too risky to do that and as we’ll see in the ending , Scrooge realized the Lamp was too powerful to keep around for much longer and too much of a tempting target for his rogues.. not that we see them this movie as the crew wanted it to bea ccesaible and thus kept hte cast to the main cast from season 1 and just made new vilians and a new supporting character, but still.

He does use his second wish though to undue the damage Merlock had done and the bin and clan mcduck are returned to duckburg in good condition.

Time for our ending, which is genuinely and wholly touching. With the lamp too dangerous to use Scrooge considers just sending it to the earth’s core, which horrifies the kids as it’d mean Gene would be trapped there forever... if the molten lava iddn’t just outright destory the lamp and probably kill him. But Scrooge.. isn’t the bastard he likes to potray himself as. Instead he makes Gene into a real boy. He gives the poor kid HIS wish, which designrates the lamp and undoes all the spells... so Merlock is PROBABLY dead but he does return for some games so maybe not?

And so we end on two things: Gene happily playing cops and robbers with the boys finally free.. and Birth of A Nation grabbing all the loot he can in his patns and running off. Ha ha ha thank god i’m done with this prick. And no I will not be looking at his ducktales episodes unless I have to.

Final Thoughts:

This movie is OKAY. It has a solid plot, gene is a wonderful chacter, the animatoin is pretty prettay pretty good, and the voice acting as usual is excellent, with Rip Taylor being the standout.

But as my paragraphs of rage shoud’ve made Clear Djonn is just BAD. Easily the worst character i’ve encountered in my year of reviewing and some of the worst writing i’ve ran into. And that writing includes a goblin man voyerstically forcing two teenagers to make out, making jokes about santa renaming himself Clem the sceneafter he tearfully confessed to letting the elves and ms. claus die, accidental transphobia via the u-men, and Bryan Lee O malley thinking we needed more than one volume of Julie Powers being around. This was disgusting, even by 1990 standards and especially by 2021 standards and it drags the film down considerably. Without it the film is okay.. with it the film is just VERY hard to watch any time he pops up. He made getting through the movie a nightmare and while I pause a lot becaue it’s a bad habbit I did so more simply because as I said earlier in the review I could not stand him.

It makes it a hard film to recommend. If you can stomach the racisim, then it might be worth it, but be aware of what your putting up with going in. But if you can’t.. there’s no shame in that, it’s carbombya levels of bad. Which yes was a real fictoinal country. It was so bad Casey Casem quit transformers over it. True story. So yeah, it’s an okay film, on par with the series at it’s best for the most part.. but Djonn just spoils it for me.

If you liked this review, like it, share it around that sort of thing and if you want MORE disney movie reviews, in addiiton to the goofy movie one later this month, if you help me hit my 25 dollar stretch goal on patroen.com/popculturebuffet, i’ll do reviews of the Recess, Proud Family and Kim Possible MOvies (Well so the drama anyway), so help me out would you and i’ll see you at the next rainbow.

#ducktales #ducktales treasure of the lost lamp #ducktales 87 #scrooge mcduck #rip taylor #christopher lloyd #launchpad mcquack #webby vanderquack #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #duckworth #bentina beakley #merlock #djon #faris djinn #movies #disney plus #disney

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gravelyhumerus · 3 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Nine

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Chapter Summary:

Emily and JJ sleep together.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

Content warning: detailed descriptions of sickness, abortion mention.

—

Jennifer Jareau looked like a drowned rat.

A pretty, blonde, sniffly drowned rat that Emily Prentiss had a massive crush on.

She was soaked head to toe, her running shoes muddy and her hair slicked to her skull. She was shivering and looking absolutely miserable. Over her shoulder was her blue duffel bag full of her soccer equipment. It was a Monday, so Emily knew JJ had a practice that afternoon.

“Pen locked me out of our room,” JJ said without greeting as she walked into Emily’s room, “And I need a towel.”

“Hello to you too, Jayje,” Emily said sarcastically.

She stepped back to let her friend enter, shivering at the thought of having to play soccer in the pouring rain, let alone a rainy November afternoon when the temperature was verging on freezing. Ever since the brutal storm on Halloween, the weather had been dreary and wet.

Emily could see the field from her window, it was across the street by the Arts building. While she, and the rest of their friends, made a point to go to all of JJ’s games together and cheer her on, Emily was thankful that the weather had been ok so far, she wasn’t sure how much hypothermia she could handle for one girl.

She grabbed her bath towel and tossed it JJ’s way, and opened her closet to find a cozy sweater to offer. Well, Emily thought, she probably would take hypothermia to support JJ, she just wouldn’t be happy about it.

JJ was simultaneously drying her hair and rifling through her bag. She was still shivering from the cold.

“I left my keys when I ran out of my room this morning,” JJ explained, “And Pen promised she’d be here when it was over.”

“I think she’s teaching Hotch how to knit at his dorm,” Emily said with a laugh, having seen her Insta story a few minutes prior of Hotch struggling with his hands tangled in yarn.

“Just wish she would’ve left the door unlocked,” JJ muttered, “I think I have my spare keys in here somewhere.”

“Here, take this,” Emily said, handing her a grey hoodie with “Oxford” written on the chest, a souvenir from when she lived in England.

Emily turned around so JJ could at least get out of her wet shirt and into the sweater. For a second, the devil on her shoulder told her to look into the mirror on her closet door, that if she did she’d catch a glimpse of JJ shirtless, but Emily shook her head slightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Guilt flared in her stomach at the thought.

She’s been thinking about JJ too much lately.

Their kiss. Their magical life changing kiss. The kiss to end all kisses. That was basically all Emily’s brain could focus on these days.

Before that, her fantasies about Jennifer Jareau were simply fantasies, but now! Now she had her memories. That kiss lingered on her lips and on her brain and in her dreams. Sometimes late at night Emily has found herself putting a thumb onto her cheek, closing her eyes and pretending it was JJ’s hands pulling her closer, just as she had done in the basement on Halloween.

If she had to describe how she felt, the only thing that made sense was to say that Emily was absolutely smitten with JJ.

But, and there was always a but, they hadn’t mentioned the kiss since. Not even a word of acknowledgement between the two.

The day after, when she and Derek walked to class, he interrogated her about what the hell happened , but Emily genuinely didn’t know. What she did know was that it wasn’t Emily who instigated, she thought, it was JJ who had pulled her tight and whose tongue swept across hers.

That week, Emily had grown more and more concerned that she had crossed a line. JJ had started acting strangely, looking away anytime Emily looked at her and telling her that she was too busy to hang out. Then, that weekend JJ had surprised her with a party. A party to celebrate Emily, and Reid and Hotch.

Emily realized that JJ wasn’t ignoring her, instead she was scheming something to make Emily happy. And what had she done? Cried in the bathroom and made a scene. Instead of JJ realizing that Emily was a broken shell of a girl and running far from her, JJ had held her tight and told her everything was going to be ok.

Emily didn’t tell her everything that day, not about all the awful things she did to fit in as a teen, about her mistakes, her abortion, about Matthew… Not yet. Emily had tucked all of that into a box that need not be opened up any time soon.

So now, Emily had the thoughts of JJ’s lips dancing around her brain, but also of her hand in hers, her arms around her and the way she promised she’d always be there.

This got in the way when Emily was trying to focus on other things like school or carrying on a conversation with the blonde.

JJ sneezed, startling Emily out of her thoughts. She turned back around and looked at JJ, who’s hair was slightly less wet and was now wearing her hoodie and looking a little bit warmer.

“À tes souhaits,” Emily said, saying bless you in French.

“I hope I’m not getting sick,” JJ grumbled, dumping some pens out of her backpack in search of the elusive keys. “Kennedy’s gotten half the team out with the flu.”

She sneezed again.

“Gesundheit,” Emily said, having fun with her languages.

“She got it from her boyfriend,” JJ continued, “You remember Anderson? On the water polo team?”

Emily nodded, taking a seat on the edge of her desk, watching JJ sitting on her bed in her clothes, imagining a completely different situation where she would do that. (Emily’s thoughts were full of comments like these, her imagination going wild at the prospect of JJ maybe liking her back.)

“I’m going to kill Garcia,” JJ said, “She told me she’d be in our room after our game.”

“Aha!” JJ said, pulling her lanyard out of a pencil case. “Got them. Thanks Em for the towel. You’re the best neighbour I could ever ask for.”

JJ handed it back, and Emily took the slightly damp towel and hung it up on the back of her closet.

“Anytime,” Emily said, “Though I think this may be an elaborate plot to steal all of my clothes.”

JJ looked down at herself.

“I think it suits me!”

Emily had to agree.

———

Two days later, JJ was at Emily’s door again, but looking a lot worse for wear.

A pink fuzzy blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, she was wearing oversized sweatpants and a sports bra, and her hair was messy and tucked behind her ears. Her nose was red and her skin looked pale.

“Hey Em,” JJ rasped.

“You’re sick,” Emily pointed out, unhelpfully.

“Nice work, Sherlock,” she said, coughing into her blanketed arm.

“What’s up?” Emily asked, leaning on the door frame.

“I’m out of cold pills and can’t sleep,” JJ said.

“It’s like nine pm?” Emily said, the statement coming out as a question.

“I have practice at six in the morning,” JJ said, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders, sniffling a little. The girl was swaying as she stood.

“You cannot actually be going to practice in that state,” Emily said.

“What state?” JJ barely managed to get out between sneezes.

“ Bless you ,” Emily said, knowing the girl definitely needed it.

Emily went to her desk, rummaging through a drawer. She found the very end of a cold and flu medicine pack, the kind with day and nighttime pills and handed them to JJ.

“Those good?” Emily asked.

JJ nodded and thanked her, before trudging back across the hall.

Before her door closed Emily said: “ Please take a break JJ!”

“I’m fine,” came the nasal voice of her friend, followed by the sound of her blowing her nose.

———

On Wednesday, JJ showed up to their weekly French study date somehow looking even more sick. There were bags under her eyes, and a wracking cough made her entire body shutter with its force.

JJ continued to insist that she was fine, despite the fact that she spent more time coughing than speaking French.

Emily was worried about her, but knew at this point, nothing she would say would make the very determined girl slow down.

———

On Thursday, Emily walked into the girls’ bathroom, toothbrush in hand before bed, and found JJ curled up on the floor next to the toilet, looking pale as a sheet.

“JJ, oh my god,” Emily said, pushing open the semi ajar door and kneeling down next to her friend.

“Mmm fine,” JJ made out, her face in her arms, not lifting her head to talk to Emily.

“This is the exact opposite of fine, JJ,” Emily said.

She had absolutely no idea how to help her.

Emily thought back to all the times she had been sick, and it had usually been whatever staff her mother had had at the time who took care of her. Nannies, cooks, assistants would bring her food, take her temperature and put buckets next to her bed. Ambassador Prentiss wasn’t the kind of mom that Emily would see on TV worried about her child when they were sick.

“Do you want water?” Emily asked, feeling helpless.

JJ shook her head, not raising it from the edge of the toilet.

“The floor is nice and cold,” JJ said, “I like it here.”

Emily almost laughed, and would have if she wasn’t so worried about the other girl.

“What do you need, JJ?” Emily asked.

“Nothing,” JJ said, “I can handle this.”

JJ’s hair hung limp around her face, and Emily leaned forward, taking the elastic from around her wrist and helped JJ pull her hair back. Emily couldn’t help, but she could at least keep JJ’s hair from getting puke on it.

Clearly hitting another wave of nausea, JJ moved, emptying the rest of her stomach into the toilet and then flushing. Emily rubbed her arm up and down her back, hoping that the motions would be comforting.

While the toilet did its thing, JJ sat back, leaning against the grey stall door, her shoulder resting against Emily’s. Her head was tilted back and her eyes closed tightly against the fluorescent lights.

“I really don’t feel good, Em,” JJ whimpered.

“I know,” Emily said, “What do you want?”

“Water,” JJ croaked.

“I’ll get some,” Emily said, patting JJ on the shoulder. JJ nodded, returning to her hunched over position on the toilet.

Emily basically sprinted down the hall, and spotting JJ’s slightly ajar door, she pushed it open to find Penelope sitting at her computer.

“Hello my beautiful goth friend,” Penelope said, “How may I be of service to you?”

“JJ’s currently puking her guts out,” Emily explained, slightly breathless, “She’s asking for water.”

“Oh my poor dear,” she said, pushing back from her desk and hurrying over to JJ’s night-side table to retrieve her water. “She told me she was going to shower, I didn’t think she was that bad.”

“She kept telling me she was fine,” Emily said, “Even while she puked.”

“Typical,” Penelope huffed, following Emily down the hall, “Can’t show any weakness. Both of you! I’m sick of it.”

Emily didn’t say anything, not sure if she could argue that accusation. She followed Penelope into the bathroom, hovering by the sink as Penelope took over her caregiving responsibilities.

She gently felt JJ’s forehead, and held up her water bottle for JJ to rinse her mouth.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Penelope said after a few minutes without any puke. “Em? Help us?

JJ stook shakily, and when Emily took her arm, JJ leaned into her, putting most of her weight on the taller girl. Penelope carried JJ’s water and shower things back for her, letting Emily take care of the dizzy JJ.

Penelope held the door open, and Emily guided JJ into bed, hovering awkwardly as JJ nestled into her bed and Penelope grabbed their trash bin and placed it next to her.

“I’ve got it from here, Em,” Penelope said, patting her on the shoulder.

“Feel better JJ,” she said, backing away, unable to take her eyes off the girl, who looked paler than she’d ever seen her.

“I miss you already,” JJ rasped out, her eyes still closed, curling up on her side and pulling the blankets up over her shoulder.

Emily smiled before leaving the room. She was worried about her but knew Penelope would take better care of JJ than Emily could ever.

———

She and Hotch spent almost five days straight crammed inside a tiny study room in the arts library working on a criminal psych presentation. It was worth almost half their grade.

They had commandeered the tiny room, booking it for the entire block of time each day, and only really leaving it to eat and sleep. At first, their friends would join them, popping in to provide moral support, but as the deadline neared, and Hotch and Emily grew more frantic, their friends mostly left them alone besides for the occasional reminder to take a break.

According to Penelope who periodically texted Emily with updates, JJ spent most of the time sleeping, and having been given time off from soccer and extensions on her school work, Penelope had finally convinced her to focus on recovery.

It was in the library when Emily began to sniffle. It was an annoying nasal drip that tickled her nose and made her feel like she constantly needed to blow her nose.

Unfortunately, she was not the kind of girl who had tissues on her. Emily wasn’t particularly well prepared in that respect. She dug through her backpack only to find a pair of tangled headphones, chapstick and two tampons. She briefly considered sticking those in her nose and calling it a day but thought Hotch would probably pass out at the sight of that.

An hour in, Hotch got so fed up with her constant sniffling that he stole a roll of paper towel from the boys washroom and threw it at her when he returned.

The scratchy paper made her nose sensitive and red. She learned about the redness when Hotch called her “Rudolph” to get her attention.

As the day ticked on, Emily began to feel either too hot, or too cold. She chalked this up to the library’s dodgy heating system and the colder November weather.

After lunch, the sneezing started.

“You’re sick, Prentiss,” Hotch told her.

“No of course not,” Emily said. “I don’t get sick. It’s just allergies.”

“What are you allergic to?”

“Uhh,” Emily looked around, “Dust?”

“Sure.”

Emily was not sick. She couldn’t afford to get sick. Sure, she had spent a lot of time in close proximity to JJ, who was still spending her most time with her face in a bin, but Emily didn’t need this now.

She was certainly aware she had had the exact conversation with JJ, encouraging the other girl to take a break to recover. Emily could talk the talk but couldn’t walk the walk on self care.

When she woke up the next morning. She felt even worse. Her throat was sore, she had a headache and she couldn’t breathe through her nose. Having given JJ all of her cold medicine, she powered through, drinking an endless barrage of hot tea, hoping it would heal her.

She had too much to do.

Days passed with Emily pushing herself to exhaustion, working all day, making it to her extra curricular meetings and only falling asleep during a few of her lectures.

The day of her presentation, Emily’s entire body hurt. She had barely slept the night before, as her sneezing kept her up. She managed to wear a pair of leggings and a sweater, but tied her hair back in a ponytail, too exhausted to do much else.

“You look like shit,” Hotch told her when she showed up to their class, shaking his head.

“Thanks, I feel like it too,” Emily quipped. “I haven’t thrown up yet though, so I count that as a victory.”

In a feat of sheer willpower, Emily made it through her presentation before collapsing into the fold out lecture hall seat, her head laid back, immediately falling asleep and sleeping through the other four group presentations.

After class, Hotch felt her forehead with his hand and announced that she had a fever. He then frog marched her straight to the clinic, pointing out that her hands shook and that she couldn’t do anything without coughing up a storm.

Emily was sure if it was not for his American Law seminar with mandatory attendance, he would be right next to her, ensuring she actually saw a doctor.

“The doctor will call you when it’s your turn dear,” the receptionist told her as she handed Emily’s student card back to her.

Emily nodded and grabbed some hand sanitizer, rubbing the cold liquid over her hands.

She sighed, which turned into a cough that tore through her lungs. She found a spot in the waiting room, under a gigantic poster about STDs. To her left was a small table covered with pamphlets about mental health resources and a big bowl of condoms.

The door to the clinic opened again and Emily shivered. The early November breeze was starting to chill her to the bone. She lifted the hood to her black sweater over her head, hoping to conserve some more heat that way.

Emily glanced at the new patient and was not entirely surprised to see JJ walking towards her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emily said as JJ walked into the waiting room.

“I hear I gave you my plague?” JJ asked, shrugging her backpack off her shoulders.

Emily nodded and coughed.

“Sorry,” JJ sat down next to her.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked, “You look a lot better than you did.”

“Hotch told me you needed an escort,” JJ said, “And I was in the neighbourhood. He said something about not trusting you to actually go to the doctor’s.”

Emily laughed at that.

“You’re my babysitter?” Emily asked.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” JJ said with a wink. “I think half of my team is out of commission with this. I’ve never been so sick, I’m glad I’m on the mend.”

Emily nodded, counting the days in her head and realizing that JJ had been out for over a week.

“You look better than you did,” Emily commented.

“Thanks,” JJ said, sarcastically, “At least I’m not puking anymore.”

“I never get sick,” Emily coughed, “I just want something for the cough and I’ll be fine.”

Emily coughed into her elbow, as if reminded.

“How did your presentation go?” JJ asked.

Emily’s heart swelled at the thought that JJ paid attention to her.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Emily said. “I feel really out of it. Hotch marched me straight here after so probably not great.”

“Emily Prentiss?” A nurse called out.

Emily gathered up her things, shot JJ a wave and went into the exam room.

Her doctor, a surly elderly white woman, with greying hair tied back in a low bun, barely looked at her, asking Emily a series of questions.

“What are your symptoms?” she finally asked.

Emily explained how her head cold transformed into something a touch more debilitating, making sure to avoid downplaying her symptoms, because she knew they would take any opportunity to send her home telling her to drink water and rest. Emily did not have time to rest.

The doctor took her vitals, listened to her lungs, grimacing at the sound of them, then took her oxygen, noting them in her chart.

Emily wasn’t a doctor but the face she made at her oxygen levels meant that they were definitely not good.

The sudden onset of chills left her shivering on the examination table as the doctor took notes on her chart.

She checked her phone, smiling as she noticed that she had a notification from the one and only cheetobreath98.

It was a selfie, taken surreptitiously from below in the waiting room, captioned, “plague lookz!”

Emily found herself smiling. A small flame with the number 27 was next to JJ’s name. They had a streak. It was childish, but the visible marker of the fact that they had talked every day for a month, sometimes for hours at a time, sending silly photos back and forth.

“You have a chest cold. Bronchitis. We want to nip it in the bud before it becomes pneumonia,” the doctor said, spinning in her chair to face her. “We see it a lot with students, you all work too hard.”

Emily nodded, not really agreeing with the sentiment, but understanding the feeling behind it. Emily had to work hard.

“Take this inhaler three times daily, at least,” he said, “And any time you’re having difficulty breathing. You can take some acetaminophen for the fever.”

He explained how to use it.

“You cannot drink, smoke or take any recreational drugs on this medication,” he warned.

Emily, who had vowed to not smoke for the duration of her illness anyways, hoping to preserve her fragile lugs, nodded.

“Try honey for the sore throat. Lots of liquids.”

She nodded.

“Come back if you’re not better in a week,” he concluded. “Your prescription will be there for pick up at the pharmacy.”

“Thanks doc,” Emily smiled, taking her leave, placing her mask back on for the hallway.

In the hall she pulled out her phone, opened Snapchat and took a selfie with the waiting room in the background.

“Ya girl’s got bronchitis!!” Emily captioned it, sending it to JJ, as well as Derek and Hotch. They would enjoy her misery.

Immediately Derek texted her.

Derek 🕺: suuuuucks bro. need some soup?

Emily: i’ll be fine but thanks

Emily: i feel like shit. the doctor gave me a puffer lol

Derek🕺: must be bad, I hear they usually just prescribe rest. Your lungs must suck

Emily: typical, id assume they’d be in pristine condition

Derek🕺: 🙄

Derek🕺: you literally smoke cigarettes

Emily laughed at her phone and walked up to the receptionist to fill out the paperwork. The nice woman smiled at her and told her to get well soon.

As JJ met her in the foyer, phone vibrated with another text.

Derek🕺: you coming back to res?

Emily: ya, hotch sent jj to baby sit me

Derek🕺: wasn’t she the one who got you sick? now shes taking care of u

Derek🕺: did u make out or something??

Emily: shut up that was before she was sick

“Get any good drugs?” JJ whispered to her conspiratorially as they walked out together.

Emily laughed louder than she expected, which manifested in wracking coughs between the two girls.

“Actually yeah,” Emily held up the prescription. “Only because you got me sick.”

“Everyone is sick, how can you be sure it was me? Anyways I had the flu, not bronchitis.”

“You’ve been cooped up with Hotch all weekend. Maybe he got you sick.”

“I don’t think Hotch can get sick,” Emily muttered.

They went to the pharmacy together, picking up Emily’s drugs. Emily also added some acetaminophen to her haul, cough drops and a pack of tissues, the kind with moisturizer per JJ’s suggestion.

As Emily waited in line to cash out, swaying a little with the exertion of standing up, JJ left for a second and then returned with a box of tea.

“I’ll make us some,” JJ said, “It’ll heal you.”

Emily felt warm, despite the chill of the store. She wasn’t sure if it was her fever or her growing love for Jennifer Jareau.

Together, they walked to their residence. Once inside, Emily wondered if JJ actually meant it when she offered the tea.

Emily opened her door, tossing her things on her desk. She took her puffer out of the bag, read the instructions before taking a dose, trying to keep the medicine in her lungs as she breathed deep, holding back the coughing.

The sun had started setting earlier and earlier as winter neared, and outside of Emily’s windows, the street lamps turned on.

Emily desperately wanted it to work. She felt like a zombie, exhausted and either too hot or two cold all at once.

She changed into a pair of pyjama pants, a black crewneck sweater with a band logo on the chest, and a pair of fuzzy socks, and pulled a blanket around her shoulders, wondering if she should just crawl into bed or if JJ’s offer still stood.

“Em!” JJ called out as she knocked on her door, “Kettle’s boiling.”

Emily’s heart soared. The sentence felt so… domestic. She hurried across the hall, inhaler in hand (just in case), standing hesitantly in the doorway. JJ had changed into grey sweatpants and a soft green hoodie with her gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, looking much comfier than she had.

“Sit down!” JJ encouraged, “If you feel as gross as I do, you’ll need it.”

Emily did, relaxing on JJ’s bed, leaning into the mountain of comfortable pillows and breathing a sigh of relief in not standing any longer. A deep exhaustion had settled into bones, not helped by the long lecture that morning and the clinic visit.

JJ walked over, handing her a mug and sitting on the bed next to her, taking a sip of her own mug.

It was the same tea as before, sleepy time, with the warm combination of chamomile, mint, and other fruity tastes greeting her like a hug. She clutched it with two hands, enjoying how the mug radiated heat and warmed her chilly fingers.

“Thank you,” Emily managed, her voice sounding a bit less scratchy to her ears than before.

“Any time,” JJ replied, “It’s nice to have company.”

Emily looked away, suddenly feeling shy. Should she stay? Was she welcome to hang out? Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay, she didn’t want JJ to see how gross she was with her messy hair, stuffy nose and endless sneezing.

JJ clearly looked better than she did earlier that week, Emily taking her place as token invalid in residence.

“I was going to watch tv,” JJ said, “I don’t think I could handle doing homework right now.”

“Oh I’ll go,” Emily said, taking the hint and moving to climb off the bed. JJ’s arm stuck out, grabbing her shoulder and stopping her.

“No, Em,” JJ said, “I was wondering if you wanted to join me. ”

Oh. Emily felt her face break into a smile. She relaxed into the bed as JJ grabbed her laptop and set it between them, she pulled a fluffy sky-blue blanket, and draped it over her legs, then over Emily’s.

There was the noise of keys in the door, Emily felt herself pull away from JJ, leaning away from her friend as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

Penelope Garcia opened the door, followed shortly after by Derek Morgan who was carrying two large take out bowls of soup.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Derek said, handing each of them a bowl.

“How are my two sick dears?” Penelope cooed, as she collected a textbook from her desk.

Emily tried to speak, coughing instead, and JJ reached out to steady her bowl, knowing that she would spill if she wasn’t careful.

She decided not to acknowledge Derek's comment because even Emily didn’t know she would be in JJ’s room, how could he?

“Just about as bad as you would expect,” JJ said.

Emily nodded, recovering from her fit.

“We won’t keep you!” Penelope replied, “we have a study date! Enjoy your movie night. Don’t forget to text me if either of you need anything tonight. I’ll be back late.”

Penelope looked at them and frowned.

“I may quarantine away from you, I do not want to catch that.”

“Get some sleep, guys” Derek said. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Emily said, thick with sarcasm.

“Toodles!” Penelope said as they left.

The door shut, and the two girls began to sip the soup. It was chicken noodle and had cooled to the perfect temperature.

“What do you wanna watch?” JJ asked between spoonfuls.

Emily thought about her comfort tv and movies: The X Files. Or Star Trek: The Voyage Home (the one with the whales, exclusively, because she finds it silly and always makes her feel better). They were so nerdy. She couldn’t look JJ in the eye and reveal how much of a nerd she was.

“I’m not sure,” she said instead, “Did you have something in mind?”

“I usually watch cooking shows,” JJ said, “To be honest. Or Gilmore Girls, Parks and Rec, or-”

JJ stopped herself.

“Or what?” Emily prodded.

“Twilight ,” JJ admitted.

Emily laughed.

“I haven’t seen it,” Emily commented, “I missed that phase I guess.”

“Oh you have to,” JJ said, getting excited, “It’s fantastic. And bad. It’s both at once. I was team Edward.”

Emily knew that was the vampire; she didn’t live under a rock, she just hadn’t actually seen the films.

JJ began to babble, between coughs, about how as a kid she read each book as they came out, and even had a poster of the cast on her wall. Emily simply basked in her company and the excitement of watching something she cared about.

Emily found herself cuddled up next to JJ, eating their soup and watching Twilight .

Between the warmth of JJ’s bed, the soothing soup and finally relaxing, Emily suddenly felt slightly better. Maybe taking a break to recover was actually a good thing.

Emily almost laughed at the thought that it only took a case of bronchitis to get her in JJ’s bed.

As the movie wore on, Emily’s exhaustion, and full stomach overtook her. The two girls wrapped in a blanket made it quickly warm and comforting, and as Bella discovered that Edward was a vampire, Emily felt her eyelids drooping.

She tried to fight the feeling, but soon, Emily was fast asleep next to JJ.

———

Emily woke up, hours later, in the dark with another blanket wrapped around her, JJ’s laptop nowhere in sight and no memory of anything she had just watched.

JJ was curled up into her side and was snoring quietly.

Emily stiffened, at the reality of her current situation. She needed to relax or she would wake JJ up. Her back was to the wall, and JJ’s prone body blocked her exit.

Her mind moved a mile a minute. JJ must’ve put away the laptop and given her another blanket, chosen not to wake Emily up. She wanted to sleep in the same bed.

What did this mean? Did JJ want to sleep next to her? Did JJ like her?

She thought hard about this, but she knew there was no way this was romantic . This must just be how close, female friendships went. Emily’s feelings for JJ were clouding her judgment.

Emily was never invited to sleepovers, or had any close girl friends before, this is probably just what she was missing out on.

God, she thought, maybe it’s good that nobody liked me. I would have caught feelings and made it weird. Just like I’m doing right now.

Emily examined JJ’s face, which was only inches from her own. Gazing at each freckle, her long light brown eyelashes, her perfect eyebrows. Her pink lips were slightly parted, brealths coming out softly.

JJ shifted closer, as she, in her sleep, was probably moving toward Emily’s warmth unconsciously.

Emily closed her eyes and basked in that moment.

Before she knew it, JJ rolled around onto her other side, and Emily was left staring at the back of her blonde head.

Missing the warmth, Emily tugged the blanket further around her shoulders.

Emily looked around JJ’s darkened room, at the empty bed across the room. Penelope, true to her word, was elsewhere. For a second, Emily wondered whose bed she was sleeping in, but the strong urge to cough overtook her, distracting her from that train of thought.

She rolled onto her back, coughing into her elbow, trying to stifle them so that she did not wake JJ. Unfortunately, the coughs kept coming, and Emily found herself struggling to breathe. She sat up, and before she knew what was happening, JJ was awake and sitting next to her with a comforting hand on her back, and Emily’s inhaler in hand.

“Hey you’re ok,” JJ whispered, running her hand up and down her back, “It’s ok baby.”

Emily tried to catch her breath, taking her medicine and trying to hold it into her lungs, before coughing again. Her entire body shook with them, and it brought forth the aching that permeated her entire entire body.

The coughs slowed, and she fell back into JJ, whose arms wrapped around her as she made soothing noises.

“You ok?” JJ asked, her own voice still sounding a bit hoarse.

Emily nodded, whimpering, and JJ handed her a water bottle. Emily thought for a second before taking it, knowing that she had already caught JJ’s sickness anyways.

JJ’s strong arms wrapped around her, supporting her limp frame as she drank water and calmed back down, before moving away to let Emily lay back down.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” JJ said, “You were out halfway through the first movie and I knew you definitely needed the rest.”

Emily nodded, bracing for JJ to ask her to leave, but that didn’t come.

“How are you feeling?” JJ asked.

“Better,” Emily croaked. “My lungs still hurt.”

“Do you still have a fever?” JJ asked, moving her hand to feel Emily’s forehead.

Emily closed her eyes at the gentle touch.

“You’re hot,” JJ said, tutting at ther.

“Don’t you know it, babe,” Emily said, without thinking.

Her eyes shot open, and she began to stutter, trying to backtrack what she said. JJ began to laugh.

“Miss Prentiss is cocky when she’s feverish,” JJ said, grinning at her.

Emily felt herself blush, but hoped JJ would take that as her fever and not her embarrassment.

“It’s late, Em,” JJ said, “Go back to sleep.”

There it was. An invitation to continue sharing her bed. Emily relaxed, closing her eyes.

This time, she didn’t quickly fall asleep, finding herself feeling tense in JJ’s bed, not wanting to do anything that would be seen as suspicious.

Was she lying too close? Was she moving too much? Was she allowed to cuddle up to JJ? Did girls cuddle with each other?

Over Thanksgiving weekend last year, when she visited the Morgans with Derek, she and he shared his childhood bed. It was not like this, with the two of them fighting for blankets, kicking each other, and grumbling like siblings. Then, Emily didn’t feel this fluttering in her stomach or the desire to sniff the other persons hair. Well, Derek barely had any hair to sniff.

Emily forced herself to relax, to take as deep breaths as her lungs could manage and to try to fall back asleep.

Some time passed, with Emily breathing slightly congested breaths in and out, as JJ tossed and turned a bit, moving around to get comfortable.

Emily faded in and out of consciousness, right on the verge of sleep when movement on the bed told her that JJ had rolled again, and was now facing her. She could sense that JJ was looking at her, but didn’t open her eyes to confirm, still verging on sleep.

She must have assumed that Emily was fast asleep, because the other girl turned to face Emily, and did something that Emily didn’t expect, nor knew exactly what to do with.

JJ had kissed Emily’s forehead, softly, and Emily’s sleep deprived, feverish brain was not sure if it had actually happened, or if she had hallucinated.

It took everything in Emily to not react, forcing her eyes closed and her body still, keeping her breathing steady. then rolled onto her side as if nothing had happened.

Emily didn’t have the capacity to process the kiss, or the rush of emotions it conjured, so she decided that it was simply a figment of her imagination.

Both girls fell asleep shortly after.

———

The second time Emily woke in JJ’s bed, the sun was up and the room was bathed in golden light. Emily felt warm and safe, and compared to the previous day, her body wasn’t aching as much. Emily opened her eyes and found that she was not only laying face to face with a sleeping JJ, but their limbs were tangled, as both of them had apparently decided to cuddle the other in their sleep.

Emily’s legs were wrapped up in JJ’s, her right leg between JJ’s, and the blonde’s arm was thrown casually around Emily’s shoulder, holding her close.

This time, Emily didn’t panic, and relished the embrace of JJ. She knew that she wasn’t likely to get a chance to be this close to her again, without the excuse of a fever, so she wasn’t going to ruin it.

Despite her best efforts, JJ’s eyes blinked open, as if sensing that Emily was awake.

Emily pulled away, yawning, attempting to untangle their limbs.

“Why hello there,” JJ whispered, giggling at her.

“Hi,” Emily whispered, smiling back at JJ.

“You look a lot better,” JJ commented, reaching out and fixing Emily’s bangs for her.

“I feel better,” she said, “Less like I’m on the verge of death.”

“We can’t have you dying, Em,” she replied, “Who else would I cuddle with?”

Emily smiled at her.

JJ sat up, stretching, revealing a slip of her lower back as the hem of her sweater rose above her waist. Emily did the same, sitting crossed legged in her bed, still wrapped in blankets despite the warmth of the room. JJ was lucky and her bed was near the radiator, keeping them toasty warm despite the chilled fall air.

Emily peeked outside, watching fall leaves fly through the sky, patterning the courtyard with a blanket of leaves. JJ stood, put on her slippers, and took a drink of water, before offering it to Emily.

Taking the water bottle, Emily sipped it awkwardly, completely unsure what to do with herself. All her experiences being in someone else’s bed had usually also involved her leaving quickly after, or at least in the morning before the other woke up. Now, Emily was watching JJ fuss with her hair in the mirror in the golden light of day.

“I’m starving,” JJ said, “What time is it?”

Emily grabbed JJ’s phone, seeing the time. It was 6:30am, long before she ever normally woke up. She must have fallen asleep earlier than she thought.

“Cafs aren’t open yet,” Emily said, “It’s only 6:30.”

“Do you like omelettes?” JJ asked.

———

Fifteen minutes later, Emily was seated in the tiny dorm kitchen at the end of their floor, wrapped in a blanket, with another steaming cup of tea in her hands, watching JJ flip an omelette in a pan.

Apparently JJ is one of the few people to use the kitchen—besides Emily and her cookies—to use the kitchen for more than instant noodles and pizza pockets.

She had eggs in the fridge, and diced frozen vegetables in the freezer, and quickly whipped up a delicious breakfast for the two of them in minutes, chatting the entire time.

“Oooh,” JJ said as she pulled out her carton of eggs, “I should get some apple cider. Someone’s got a massive jug in here and I’m dying for some.”

“I’ve never liked apple cider,” Emily said, taking a gulp of her tea.

The hot tea—and her doctor prescribed medicine—was clearing her sinuses and Emily felt like she was breathing fully for the first time in days.

“That’s impossible,” JJ said, matter-of-factly, as she cracked an egg into a bowl. “It’s the best thing ever.”

Emily shrugged, “I’ve only had it once and it wasn’t that good.”

“If I wasn’t a good person, I would steal this person’s cider and make you try it,” JJ said, gesturing with a spatula.

JJ turned and busied herself with adding the veggies to the pan, sautéing them in butter and some seasoning.

“We should go to the fair, together,” JJ blurted, “I mean. All of us.”

“I’ve also never been to a fair,” Emily said with another shrug. “I have to remind you that I’ve barely lived in the US, and when I did, I was trapped in stuffy private schools.”

JJ gave her a look that, if it was from anyone else, would look pitying.

“It’s decided,” JJ said, plopping the omelette onto Emily’s plate. “When you feel better, we’re going to the fair.”

“It’s a date.”

81 notes · View notes

currentfandomkick · 4 years

Text

Marinette did not sign up for this pt2

forgot to post this before i passed out last night. part one here ao3 here

It was almost four years into being Ladybug when the Justice League made contact.

In that time, she and Chat had built the miraculous team and they both knew each members identities, but swore them all to not seek out one another’s identity. (Though Alya was Alya and had Carapaced figured out on his first outing… convincing her not to reveal that to him took a bit. The girl was determined, but Marinette follows Fu’s rules to the letter (as much as she can) and that meant Secrets Stay Secret damnit.)

Not contacting the JL themselves was partially due to some fallout the Mayor and Parisian government with a (dissolved) Justice League’s branch. It was well before her team’s time. Something about collateral damage and if her miraculous could fix damage dealt by JL members or not playing some role in that too.

She decided it was a good thing when two years later she found a fucking dagger with a large bouquet on her balcony. It became a regular occurrence for special occasions—birthday, winter holidays and on Easter (she didn’t even know why on that one. Her parents aren’t Catholic. Maybe Murder Robin was, or thought she was?). She would just find some weapon with flowers somewhere in her room. She had no fucking clue what Murder Robin (Alya found articles where the ‘new’ Robin was cited as likely having killed multiple people in Gotham and just, yikes) or his friends or even her father (Fucking Batman, the Ghost of Gotham) might have meant by leaving it, but it was clear they had her address, knew which room was hers, and could do a lot of damage if she toed the line. She wasn’t testing any of those ‘no contact rules’ after that.

Hiding a dagger and various other weapons (so many knives and throwing stars) from Maman by giving it to Fu and later passing it off as an eccentric gift from him to her for always helping him out was… an adventure when Fu was still Master Fu. She hopes Murder Robin doesn’t find out about that bit. She has no clue how he or his family (not hers, hers are in Paris with her. Hers at least tried to talk to her, tried to listen and did make time for her. His family? Complete strangers she may share DNA with.)

She (logically) should be terrified that Murder Robin knows her alias and secret identity are the same person; if he’s really one of the world’s greatest detectives’ kids, why wouldn’t he know? Batman must have known for years—why else would Murder Robin be able to find her? the DNA scan was in a closed match system to just Paris. And she knew there was no way Goddamn Batman, Ghost of Gotham, would hang around Paris long enough to get dragged into the system for him to have a ping.

He just did not want anything to do with her or her city’s trouble since it wasn’t his. She wasn’t his. Wasn’t wanted by him. That was fine—he has enough to worry about in his hell city.

Sending Murder Robin out to do his dirty work?

Not fine.

Her team and her were… managing the Hawkmoth situation. Keeping it from spilling out of Paris since Startrain. Goo-guy managed to give them a break—people can grab akuma that aren’t meant for them and become much weaker akuma than if the akuma reached its target. Same with the few that could grab an akuma in the air. It meant when akuma went out, some citizens were willing to bear Hawkmoth’s wrath for a bit—even groups taking turns sometimes—to prevent someone from getting akumatized until Ladybug could purify the akuma or Chat Noir could destroy it.

And for akuma battles, well, she has more than just her and Chat, Luck (Creation) and Destruction. Viperion gave them multiple chances to change costly choices in battle. Bunnix fixed the ones that Viperion couldn’t. All oversized opponents fell to Ryuko and her mastery of the elements, even if she can’t always make it thanks to different schools and tight schedules. Miss Sting was chosen by Marinette—Aurore was easy to lean on for news team reports and media appearances that Ladybug and Chat Noir don’t have the time or energy for. Plus, Aurored needed the anger management, so win-win. Don’t even get her started on Pegasus or King Monkey always being ready at a moment’s notice and how they both started joining Nino and Alya’s parkour dates that have morphed into group hangouts in last two years. Seriously—if she knew where she needed to be, Max was ready to answer her call. If she knew more chaos would work as a distraction, long live King Monkey, the Great Distractor.

Then there’s her emotional support in the field (besides her chaton), Carapace. He’s a great shield in battle, good with civilians and quick to defend. He’s also big on mental health (something their team sorely needed). How Nino managed to get turtle headphones, Marinette doesn’t know. She does know she nicks them from him regularly as Ladybug for team hangouts and when she needs to clam down on patrol.

Then there is her civilian bestie, the one who convinced her to stay as Ladybug, Alya Cesaire, aka Rena Rogue and the Ladyblogger. Rena Rouge is by and far one of her favorites to talk about potential Hawkmoths with, and work out akuma prevention techniques with. In the battlefield she was one of the first to strike (even if that’s not how she should be using the flute, Marinette has no room for judgment given how she uses all of her Lucky Charms.) Alya always posted and circulated anti-akuma tips and altered the Ladyblog to have each icon for known miraculous mean something.

Marinette was nothing but supportive of her friend, even if the blog is a behemoth to maintain and resulted in Alya retiring as her Deputy (Rose took over gleefully as Deputy). She liked that the Ladybug was for news, and the Cat for if an attack is ongoing. The Butterfly tracks akuma sightings before an attack, and was a bit on the nose in her opinion, but it’s effectively mapped out areas where Hawkmoth’s lair is or has an opening, giving them an area to investigate and patrol more heavily. The Turtle offered guided meditation videos and yoga sessions (somehow always on-going), while the Fox was for group chats and various akuma-related support groups. The Peacock offered mental health resources, and was constantly growing. The Bee was for self defense videos and sat next to Dragon for akuma survival tips. The Snake was one of her personal favorites, advice on calming down with guided breathing if someone feels close to being akumatized, and she’d used it herself more than once. The Horse was the one she’s the least familiar with, for shelter routes that she never used. The Monkey held a number of fun distractions, videos and memes uploaded by her followers with art and songs, and was overall very light hearted.

Marinette is proud of her team.

Though it doesn’t mean there aren’t days she’s waiting for it all to unravel, or for an Older Bunnix to appear again and tell her they have to undo the day Marinette’s identities were compromised. But that is a always an apocalypse event option only. Chat Blanc still haunts Marinette’s nightmares, and Alix’s too. the Princess Justice timeline haunts Alix since she lived it in real time, but it’s Adiren’s nightmare come to life in multiple other akuma attacks. Apparently if Marinette is akumatized, she brings about a second Reign of Terror so encompassing, it made Robespierre’s look like a child’s drawing of what a reign

It was during another Syren event when things went from workable to a slow boiling unbearable. All but Alix were transformed and fighting minions to clear a path for Ladybug to get to the main akuma.

Imagine her frustration when Aquaman and Aqualad appeared behind her while she was scouting on the outskirts, and both refused to make any eye contact, practically kneeling in water to her and making themselves a target. When they should be able to read the room and see that the battlefield isn’t the place for this.

“Oh Great Paschalítsa” Aquaman began, “I understand your hesitance in this matter, given the Miraculous and Atlantis’ history,” Aquaman continued as she dodged yet another minion further ahead and kept working her way to where the akuma was, ignoring his speech. “But I ask that you do not sink—”

Marinette gave up on her current task to ensure there wasn’t some international incident of Ladybug letting Aquaman be captured by akumas or something. She’d never head the end of it if she didn’t.

But now they were surrounded. Aqualad at least kept his attention on the task at hand (re: keeping minions from spotting her) as they all worked out a way to escape, even if he wasn’t looking anywhere near her. Apparently Aquaman got the message (finally) and did the same as his sidekick(?) after Aqualad made a few gestures she wasn’t paying attention to. She does have an akuma item to break and akuma to catch and purify.

The pair did manage to act as decent bodyguards and distractions while she worked out the kid’s item and how it connected to their fixation—no swimming until their grades up meant all of their gear but a whistle was taken away. One Lucky Charm and convoluted plot that merged fighting in 3-D, a pair of scissors and a lot off kicking off underwater buildings later, and Paris was back to normal.

She managed it without talking to Aquaman once. She could give quick directions to Aqualad without toeing the line—he wasn’t part of the Justice League and was known to operate in the ocean alone when Aquaman wasn’t there.

“Great Paschalítsa,” Aquaman began and Marinette wanted him to go off and leave her alone. Him and Aqualad. “As king of Atalntis, I humbly offer my aide in whatever has caused you and the great Mávri Gáta to show yourselves to the world.”

What was with all this formal speech? Marinette thought they knew French, or well, Alya mentioned it said they did in their bio, but it clearly wasn’t the kind her class used for projects. And Marinette was exhausted, frustrated, and now did not have a good and convenient target for her rage (re: akuma that drowned Paris) and well…

Well, she blew up. A bit. But can you blame her?

They wouldn’t take the hint. (Silence means Fuck Off).

“Look,” Marinette whirled on them, ignoring her team’s shock and not even going in for the celebratory ‘Pound it’. “I told Murder Robin—“ the pair winces at the that wording. Good. They knew who she meant then.

“—that I won’t get involved with anything involving our dad.”

She didn’t miss the sharp intakes from her team. Chat knew, only due to a freak out over being left a freaking sword one time and she panicked, okay?

“And I meant it. Just because Batman felt guilty or something,” She doubted it. Ghost of Gotham doesn’t feel anything and can apparently take out entire buildings on occasion. (Even if she was pretty sure that was someone filling in for him, she wouldn’t discount it either.) “That Doesn’t mean I’m going to change my mind on the matter—My team has got this. And we don’t need a handout four years too late.”

They had to. Fu was gone (For three months now. Three months Marinette held the weight of being The Guardian on her shoulders alone. She had to have this. She wouldn’t trust random elements sent by Mr. ‘I accept my murderous son and ignore the one in constant peril that blew herself up twice to save Paris.’

“Bug out.”

She knew her team would have questions, but Chat could answer them for now and Miss Sting would be able to handle any questions if any the media tried anything. Bright side of having the main Miraculous Team journalist as Rena with a determined hacker Pegasus; if it was personal to the team, the pair made sure it was never there.

Later at JL HQ

Aquaman walked up to Batman once the meeting was over. Batman knew the man had something on his mind and that it was related to himself—why else would he keep looking at him during the meeting? Whatever was troubling the Atlantian, Bruce could only hope it wasn’t emotions. That was really, really not his department… Jonn was much better with issues like that.

“Batman, may I have a word?”

Batman nodded, quick to follow the other out into a more private room.

“It has come to my attention that your daughter and you have a, uh, tricky relationship.”

Batman raised an eyebrow, as his relationship with Cass was doing well… he thought. Maybe he should visit her more? She was doing fine on her own and was always warm to him when he visited her in China on her missions against the Triad. Perhaps he should see if she was open to working with him on a case on that, or see if she wanted to come to Gotham again.

“And I don’t mean to judge here,” Aqua man continued, obviously nervous. “But uh, apparently your current Robin is well aware of her existence.”

Batman raised an eyebrow under the cowl. “Black Bat and Robin are close.”

The way Aquaman’s face contorted indicated nothing good. “Your other daughter.” The man paused, waiting for Batman to understand. “Ladybug.”

Bruce… Bruce froze. “I don’t have another daughter.” Not to his knowledge.

Aquaman ran a hand through his hair. “Well apparently ‘Murder Robin’ has met her,” Aquaman said with air quotes of all things. “Years ago.”

Bruce felt his heart stop. Damian’s… adjustment into the family had not been easy. And a few years ago Damian was much more… willing to do things against the Batcode, things that had him thriving in the League of Assassins. Things that changed a person. Things he’d need to ask this Ladybug—his daughter, another surprise child—about.

“And given that a Ladybug being active has always been a sign of a potential apocalypse—“

Batman’s red flags began flashing. Hard. His child was in danger and fighting a potential apocalypse event. Without his help. Without Batman’s resources.

“I assume Ladybug is a mantel.” Bruce hoped she had a mentor, someone to ease her into hero-work.

“Yes.” Aquaman looked… hesitant then. “Were it not for one Ladybug’s mercy, my people would have died when Atlantis was sunk by her equal, the Black Cat’s user. It seems this time they’re allies this time, against the Butterfly—I, Batman, are you alright?”

Bruce was not okay, at all. There is an ongoing apocalypse event, a daughter he never met stopping it (how old was she? Was she Damian’s age or older? Younger? He didn’t want her to have to live with this life, but she was and was doing so without him, without his help, without someone he knew she could lean on for support) and apparently his youngest son was well aware of this and did nothing to help. Did not even tell him.

He was going to have words with Damian.

“Excuse me.” Batman turned to leave. He has a son to interrogate, research to do, and a daughter to find (beg forgiveness for not getting to her sooner, and help her) on top of the usual workload. A Bat’s work is never done.

Wonder Woman who stopped him while he was reeling with this information, her grip too solid on his arm, and unlikely to break.

“It is not wise to rush in.” She began, appealing to reason in the hopes of keeping a panicked “Batdad” from making the situation worse. “From what Aquaman has told us, she does not welcome your involvement,” she said slowly, hoping it would sink in. “The Ladybug Miraculous has always been an agent of creation, of healing.” Diana hoped that would set her friend’s mind at ease. Ladybugs were notorious for their battle prowess and strategies, yes, but first and foremost their duty was to undo damage. “Ladybug herself will have much on her shoulders if her role is anything like my mother’s when she was among the Chosen, and adding yourself to the equation before her adversary is defeated will only serve to distract her from her goal.”

Batman remained tense, but didn’t struggle against Wonder Woman’s grasp. Good.

Green Lantern was the next to approach, as planned. “So why don’t you focus on your family in Gotham before rushing into meeting this kid,” Green Lantern—no, Hal suggested. “We’ll work on finding out what’s causing this possible apocalypse. You get your house in order.”

Bruce heard the words that weren’t said. Find out what your ex-assassin son did your demi-god daughter and make sure he doesn’t screw up anything further.

“That is not—“

“Batman.” Wonder Woman squeezed his arm. “This is not a suggestion.”

Cold curled in Bruce's stomach. His daughter was in danger, fighting against a potential apocalypse, and he was told to sit this one out. When it was personal. (His daughter who he needed to meet, to learn about, to see what made her tick and work out how to help her wherever she might need it. His daughter who he had lost years with.)

(They were ordering him to lose more time with her.)

“You are benched from League activities until this is sorted out.” Wonder Woman continued, as though she hadn’t just gutted Bruce. “I will take lead on Ladybug’s case. My people have much experience with her and the Black Cat as allies.” It was Diana that was smiling then. “Perhaps Mother’s connection will convince her to allow our aide.”

Green Lantern nodded along. “And when I’m not with you guys, well, GL core is in charge of keeping things not-apocalypse-y across the universe and keeping it from spiraling. And Miraculous tend to like the whole Balance thing, so it shouldn’t be too much for me to help out every now and then with them too.”

Bruce twitched where he was. He wasn’t going to win this. Not by a long shot.

But they were taking Aquaman and a Green Lantern. Granted, at least it wasn’t Guy. But a Lantern. Over him. When it involves his family.

He had to get his house in order quickly.

Damian would say he was quite pleased with himself that day. He managed to decide the type of weapon that would help his sister defend herself against others best, given her profession as a seamstress, he was annoyed he hadn’t thought of it sooner. Selecting the type of needle to give her, and to ensure they could be used for fabrics to give her a reason to carry them on her person, was crucial however.

She had rejected his other offerings thus far, though he could hardly blame her. This would be his seventh attempt. He did hear it was a lucky number from somewhere… and he had gotten better since his last attempts at understanding the type of person she showed herself to be and the type of person she wished to be seen as.

The Swiss dagger on his first attempt was too bulky and not hidden enough for a style of fighting she should strive to cultivate. His second attempt was an ear dagger which were easier to use and she could add additional force with her thumb. He thought it was better protection for her, and it was small enough this time to be kept in her purse. Much better than his first attempt. Only from her pictures he knew it wasn’t ever in her purse.

He had failed to find her an acceptable apology gift that offered her the protection she needed. The third was when he moved to a larger blade, hoping the thin rapier could be hidden well enough as decorative or as a fancier fencing tool than standard. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility given her closeness to an Olympic level fencer and this ‘Adrien Agreste’ who often partnered with Tsurugi. He was glad she had taken to displaying it at the least, though Adrien claiming to have given it to her left a bad taste in his mouth.

His sister wished to not have it known she had her own weapons then, he could handle that. His fourth attempt was going to be a butterfly knife but given legal restrictions that he had come to realize she would follow (as idiotic as they were) he changed it to a classic Swiss knife. He did see this carried on her person on occasion, but not often. He looked into more easily concealed knives and gifted her a ballpoint pen knife—it looked like a pen and he made sure to customize it to resemble the pens in her room (he took a sample for reference) and did see her often carrying that one, though by active attempt or chance he couldn’t gather. He decided she would need a long range item next, and gifted her a small variety of throwing stars (and a knife or two, she seemed to favor possible close combat weapons of those he gave her). He noticed that none of these were carried on her person (he may have bugged them with trackers to figure out her preference) and they rarely left her room.

That was why he concluded that this time needles that she could use for sewing or battle were his best bet. Finding a way to walk that line was proving challenging.

Father came in while he was making his selection. He did find it odd Father hadn’t mentioned her to the rest of the family, but it could be that he wished her a more peaceful life. Damian would not disrespect his father’s wishes by bringing her up.

“Damian, we need to talk.”

Damian furrowed his brow, running over what could warrant that tone. He came up empty.

Father did move closer and see he was looking at needles this time. And showed surprised.

“For Okhti Al Kobra,” Damian stated, hoping his father wouldn’t be upset at him recognizing her. He knew now it was better for her to be apart from them, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do what he could to help her protect herself. His older sister deserved better.

Father did freeze at that.

Had Damian displeased him? (He wouldn’t… wouldn’t send him to back. Damian knew that. But that look… it brought back the boy that wondered when he’d be tossed aside by the Great Batman for no longer being a good solider.)

“Father? I know you don’t like to speak of her but.”

“You, you’re getting her needles?” it was a question. He didn’t get why.

“Yes, my last presents seemed inadequate. She has taken to the penknife, but only sometimes. She keeps the Swiss on her sometimes too—haven’t you been keeping an eye on her social media? She posts a disgusting amount. I figured given the boutique it wouldn’t be unacceptable for her to carry needles on her as a weapon and tool in the future, should anyone else discover our connection.”

Bruce stared Damian, waiting for him to finish.

“She does keep the flowers I left her, though she does react oddly. The first time she was very pale.” Looking back, it was likely fear. She was a civilian after all… “However I believe she has come to accept that even with distance, she is still a Bat by blood and as such, should remain vigilant.” Damian hoped his report was adequate.

“She… how old is she?” Father’s tone was softer then. but the question didn’t make any sense.

“Father, you should know how old she is.” Damian waited for the man to respond.

He didn’t.

Damian furrowed his brow. “Father, you do know who she is, right?”

“Ladybug.”

Damian blinked at that. He had no idea who that was, but he knew an alias when he heard one. “She’s a civilian—when did she—”

“Damian.” He stilled at that. “How old is she?”

Damian straightened then. “She was twelve and a half when we first met. She will be sixteen in two weeks.” Damian glanced at his abandoned screen. “She enjoys design.”

“Her, her name.” His father looked… lost.

“I, we don’t revel secret identities?” Damian was a bit lost. Father should know of his sister. They were only two years apart. She was from before his father’s training became serious. He should know of her, at least. And if he didn’t, wasn’t it a betrayal to her if he revealed who she was without her permission? Whenever he tried to visit, she was always elsewhere, and he couldn’t very well show up as Damian Wayne. That would reveal the family and she didn’t need to know that. Didn’t need that burden.

“She knows she’s my daughter.” Father sounded…desperate.

“She knows she is Batman’s. I didn’t reveal your identity, or the family’s.”

“I…”

Damian took a deep breath. He didn’t want to betray his family. Or further hurt his older sister. “I believe that we should speak to her before discussing her identity. It… it should be her choice.”

Father looked pained at that.

“I assume you don’t…” No, father would not know how the first meeting went… right?

Father said nothing before leaving.

Damian wondered if he should visit her sooner. He eyed his cart and got her a set of weaponry needles, knitting, and a set made for seamstresses with small hands. He hoped these were to her liking. Perhaps he should add white heather (Protection) and purple hyacinth (I’m sorry) in addition to the zinnias…. Or just give her two with the zinnias mixed between them, as Damian reasoned the heather and hyacinth wouldn’t looks the best together. Yellow (daily remembrance) and scarlet (constancy) zinnias with heather (protection) and some greenery should be fine, and purple hyacinth (I’m sorry) mixed with magenta (lasting affection) white (goodness) and perhaps a white daffodil (stay as sweet as you are) with a filler of some sort would work well. She accepted his apologies (albeit in flowers) before, and he hoped he had proven he was paying enough attention to her for her to see that he meant it.

He was glad he hadn’t killed her that day.

Now he had research to do to help his sister.

He missed Brown as she slipped out. And completely missed finding out she was messaging Todd, Drake and Cassandra the news: there was a missing Bat into design, goes by Ladybug, and Bruce has no clue what her identity is.

Cass didn’t send anything in response.

Jason stated he would find her before Tim.

Stephanie was just excited for another girl in the group. Little sister in need of help? Count her in—being Spoiler versus being Batgirl was a world of difference. Having a team made it easier, and it shouldn’t be too hard to convince the girl to give it a shot, right?

Thanks for waiting. part three here

tags: @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06

debating which bat will find her first (in person), so feel free to state any preferences, and thanks for the comments and kudos--it really does help with working this idea out.

#maribat #my writing #my fic #marinette did not sign up for this #how do i tag #long post #bio!dad bruce #sugar not salt #angst #misunderstanding time

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dangermousie · 4 years

Text

2019 END OF YEAR KDrama Post

Wow, I haven’t made one in years. This is going to involve only dramas that came out in 2019 because I watched a hell of a lot dramas made prior to that and trying to figure out which ones will give me a headache.

DRAMAS WATCHED (In order of liking from most to least as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen at least two eps AND feel it was enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)

Extraordinary You - A philosophy and religion course AND a love story, and perfect at both.

My Country - a brutal, passionate, intense masterpiece of a sageuk. This is how they should be.

Crash Landing On You - the two eps that have aired brought my joy in watching kdramas back to me so vividly. This is everything.

Encounter - the perfect noona romance of the year for me. It seems to have little plot (powerful older woman, idealistic younger man) but the characters made me love them with an unhealthy amount of attachment and the mood is just perfect.

Haechi - smart traditional sageuk with a heart. This one will make you love it but also respect it in the morning :)

Queen: Love and War - Period, romance, mystery, helpless king and feisty heroine. It’s everything I love in one package.

Chocolate - if, like me, you like slow old-school melo with genuine grown-ups, this one is for you. Ha Ji Won and Yoon Kye Sang are both incandescent in this.

One Spring Night - a rare slice of life that worked for me so so much. I rooted for the main OTP like crazy (I did skip all the sister stuff though because boring to me.) It’s just a breath of fresh air.

The Tale of Nokdu - a rare funny youth sageuk that worked for me (except, ironically, for when they tried to be politics-heavy and serious about it.) Wonderful OTP, funny situations and just generally a delight.

Memories of the Alhambra - I can hear people screaming that I put this so high, but this is a faves ranking, not objective one, and I loved the unusual premise (it ultimately fell apart but it tried), and Hyun Bin’s performance was out of this world and the aaaaagnst and I enjoyed waiting for it each week until almost the end. That ending though!!!!!

Psychopath Diary - this is black comedy at its best and hysterical and smart and somehow got me invested in the hapless protagonist.

Hotel del Luna - clever and funny and smart. Hong Sisters largely back to form. I found the sageuk parts more engaging than modern ones, but what else is new.

Search WWW - some parts of it worked for me more than others, but it had solid writing and cool characters and some interesting OTP(s).

Love is Beautiful Life is Wonderful - has the weekend drama slowness but it lovely and fun.

When the Camellia Blooms - it was well made and the OTP was great and the acting top notch, I just don’t tend to go gaga for slice of life dramas, especially ones involving market ladies, much.

Flower Crew Joseon Marriage Agency - competently done, pretty period piece about nothing. It was enjoyable and forgettable at once.

Catch the Ghost - I put it as high as I did because the OTP really did have lovely chemistry but the story was a complete mess, the police work made no sense and the heroine’s character was like nails on a chalkboard for me.

Joseon Survival - I got about four episodes in and liked it a lot but then Kang Ji Hwan turned out to be a convicted rapist, they replaced the lead and I didn’t go back. I kind of want to because I liked what I saw and I am madly curious as to whether they changed the main character or just said he had a different face now, no explanation.

The Last Empress - pure inconsistent trash but so entertaining!

Vagabond - I made it eight episodes in before I realized that I would have as much fun staring at traffic. It’s a competently done actioner but without more, actioners never work for me, so this was a viewer/drama mismatch.

Arthdal Chronicles - incoherent, visually odd and boring, this is arguably the worst drama this year but I am giving it higher place because the cast really tries (even if it tends to fail because it has nothing to work with) and because it attempted something different even if it failed spectacularly. SO BAD.

Melting Me Softly - yes, my brain was fully melted by this soulless, charmless waste of Ji Chang Wook and my limited free time.

VIP - Any drama that makes the main mystery and thrust of the story who the husband cheated on his wife with is BORING. Seriously, this is not exactly Hercule Poirot. They wasted their cast - I have NO idea why Lee Sang Yoon agreed to be in this as a one note character and Jang Nara is playing a second scorned wife in a row but without even the entertainment value of her previous outing.

Abyss - aptly named. The best thing I can say about it is it didn’t offend me but oh boy was it dull.

Absolute Boyfriend - I loved the manga but it’s time to accept this can never be adapted well. They wasted the cast and that ending was just an insult on top of a trash heap.

The Lies Within - you cast that cast and deliberately have no romance. You are dead to me.

Woman of 9.9 Billion - competently made, but it’s everything I dislike - dour unpleasant bored people behaving as if they are in a particularly dreary art-house French movie but without any nuance or interest the latter came provide.

Love with Flaws - shrill, dumb, neither acted nor written by anyone trying at all.

Rookie Historian Goo Hae Ryung - objectively, it’s not the worst drama on the list, but it’s everything I hate in one package - willfully ahistorical but not cleverly so, male lead incapable of acting, the characters so one-dimensional they disappear, this purports to be a period drama but about as period as a space ship. God, I loathed this.

FAVORITE DRAMA

Extraordinary You - smart (so mind-bendingly smart) and moving and totally unpredictable and with so many things to say about free will and religion and self and nature of memory and narrative, this had an insane impossible premise and yet somehow managed to do it full justice and stick the landing.

WORST DRAMA

People with Flaws - this is different from least favorite because even if I loathed e.g., Rookie Historian or Woman of 9.9 Billion, I recognized some positive features; it’s just certain things really rubbed me the wrong way due to personal preferences. But this shrill hot mess of a drama is really everything that’s wrong with dramaworld.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Prince Yeoning, Haechi - fiercely smart, strong, tormented by the duality of his birth (royal father, servant mother) but not letting this distract him from his purpose, loyal to the bone, and with integrity nothing can shake but where you can feel that it’s not easy and that it costs him.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Eun Dan Oh, Extraordinary You - a go-getter who remakes the world (literally); smart, cheerful, strong, beautifully human. She feels so real and yet is larger than anything around her.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

Yi Seung Gye, My Country - a sociopath destroying lives in his quest for power and control, even the destruction of his own family barely gives him anything but momentary pause. He is the reason for the tragedy of MC.

FAVORITE SHIP

Eun Dan Oh x Haru, Extraordinary You - their love is literally universe and god-defying. They have loved each other as different people in three separate worlds (and counting), and have defied loss of memory and even loss of self as well as death, the end of worlds, and their god and the narrative and literally anything and everything, to be together.

Runner Up: Soo Hyun x Jin Hyuk, Encounter: tender and decent and his bringing her back to vivid life and the way they love and support and compliment each other.

Probably gonna be on list if doesn’t go haywire: Crash Landing on You: she is a SK heiress, he’s a NK officer, they have mad chemistry and so much potential.

NOTP:

Tae Mi x Morgan, Search WWW - love the actors, love the chemistry, love the characters in terms of the way they are written, but they are absolutely wrong for each other and there is no future of any sort but misery ahead. None of their issues are resolved but are swept under the rug. It’s a cautionary tale, not a romance. I did a long rant before so not repeating.

BEST SECONDARY OTP

Scarlett x Ji Hwan, Search WWW - they stole the shippiness in the drama for me. Cooky and adorable and noona romance done right.

FAVORITE SCENE

Haru’s final disappearance, Extraordinary You - the lights start to go out, the world literally dissolving, Eun Oh and Haru clinging to each other, with his telling her she was his beginning and the end. His name, the one she gave him, is the last thing he hears. In a drama full of amazing scenes the very gist of which was defying the very creator and universe and meaning of existence, this was the one that stayed with me the most.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Seo Hwi, My Country - I have a thing for deeply honorable, deeply tortured period badasses with long hair and a death wish (see Choi Young in Faith etc.)

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Yi Bang Won, My Country - he started out as an antihero and ended up as arguably a tragic villain (or maybe still an anti-hero) but oh boy, was he magnetic and fascinating and sucking out all the oxygen whenever he was in the scene.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

Memories of the Alhambra - WTF ending was that?! All that misery and no real resolution?! Dammit!

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

Youth Sageuk - I hate most of them! They are anachronistic and dumb and honestly, what is the point of having fully modern people in period clothes? Just make a modern show and call it a day.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

Melting Me Softly - Ji Chang Wook’s first project back from the military was an unfunny, unmoving, pointless mess with not an ounce of genuine enjoyment despite the excellent pedigree of everyone involved in front and behind the camera.

Arthdal Chronicles - the makers made excellent Queen Seon Duk, Tree with Deep Roots and Six Flying Dragons. The cast was uniformly A grade. The result was an open-ended, boring, incoherent mess that looks like a bad sort of a drug trip and made about as much sense.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

Extraordinary You - I had zero interest in yet another high school drama with no actors I recognized. By the end, EY was an emotional brainy twister of a marvel that became my favorite drama of all time. I’ve been watching dramas for over 13 years so that’s saying something.

2019 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

The Crowned Clown - I love sageuks and cast and it looks so smart and emotional

Angel’s Last Mission: Love - my next contemporary - I watched a little and loved what I saw

Fates and Furies - I saw a few eps and classic melo is so up my alley.

Clean with a Passion for Now - I like the cast and it’s a year of falling for hot weird bosses apparently.

Graceful Family - I love makjang and Im Soo Jung.

The Secret Life of My Secretary - downmarket Beauty Inside and I loved BI.

Love Affairs in the Afternoon - artsy adultery FTW

Item - I don’t like crime stuff but I am here for Joo Ji Hoon.

My Strange Hero - seems a little cooky but I am fond of Yoo Seung Ho.

MOST ANTICIPATED IN 2020

King: the Eternal Monarch - Lee Min Ho and Woo Do Hwan and parallel worlds and written by Kim Eun Suk. Yes Please.

I should probably make one for cdramas too though that one would be rather shorter.

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

“Alright, so tonight is going to be fairly standard. Arkham is silent, and there’s no solid leads on what any of the free rogues might be up to. Harley is sick and Ivy is stuck at home taking care of her, so they aren’t going to be up to anything on either side of the law for a few days. Catwoman is the only person we’d have to look out for right now, but her kleptomania has taken her out of the city for a change,” Barbara was typing away at the large Batcomputer keyboard as she brought all of the Gotham vigilantes up to speed on what to expect for patrol that night. “So, Red Hood and Black Bat will take the Narrows and surrounding area patrol route like usual. Nightwing and Batgirl, Upper east side and fashion district patrol route. Red Robin, you’re taking the route that passes city hall and through Old Gotham and Diamond District, and if you don’t throw a fit maybe you can take Robin with you. Batman, crime alley and Newtown patrol. Robin or no Robin, pick your poison,” the redhead offered, finally spinning her wheelchair around to look at everyone. “We’ll be pretty spread out tonight, but like I said, there’s nothing. No whispers of anything planned on the dark web, no news from any of the rogues, Blackgate and Arkham are, dare I say, peaceful right now. But if you see anything, I’ll redirect you guys so you can get backup ASAP.”

This was a rare night. Usually there was at least a plot or red flag to investigate, but not that night. For some reason, it seemed like Gotham had gotten a dose of sanity that it had been desperately missing.

“Actually,” Alfred took that moment to walk in, a slight pep to his step that seemed to catch everyone’s attention. “I do have news. Batman, you of course know that I have been keeping a close eye on Paris’s situation as per your orders, yes?”

Bruce, who had already been inching towards the batmobile none too subtly, suddenly stood stock still and slowly turned to look at his father figure. He could feel the eyes of his many children honing in on him, silent questions behind those orbs.

“Of course, I remember,” he confirmed cautiously. “You haven’t had an update for me in years.”

Years? Tim furrowed his eyebrows. That meant this had to be something that stretched very far back, because everything that Batman tried to keep secret from him since he became Robin had already been outed. Right? Well, he supposed there was always the possibility that Bruce could have snuck something by, but not a large one. Between him and Oracle, any new secrets he tried to squirrel away were unearthed pretty swiftly. So, most likely this was something Bruce had asked Alfred to keep an eye on at least back when Jason was still Robin. Maybe even further back than that.

“Yes, well you wouldn’t have appreciated any prior updates, sir,” Alfred said pointedly, raising an eyebrow. He always would be the one to understand Bruce Wayne and Batman the best out of all of them. “But this is a big one. I used our inside contact to check up on the Paris situation like I do every month, and this came up,” Alfred pulled out a remote from his pocket and clicked it at the computer, triggering it to bring up an article that likely had been hidden and only accessible via that remote signal. If Barbara had had any reason to check for hidden files she would have found it easily, but Alfred was good at never giving any hints as to when he was hiding something.

But what was on the computer was far more interesting than the all-too-familiar, cryptid ways of Alfred Pennyworth.

Because it was a news article from an online Paris newspaper. It was still in untranslated French, but nobody in that room had any trouble reading it. It was dated to have been published two weeks earlier.

On the cover picture for the article was a man that everybody also recognized, being high-profile and extremely influential in the fashion industry. Most of them had even met the man at least once, the aging Gabriel Agreste. In his early seventies, it was odd to see the man being herded into a police vehicle. He didn’t seem all that threatening, though he still struck an oddly intimidating figure with his cold glare and straight back. Being herded behind him was a woman of around Bruce’s own age, with long brown hair in several elaborate braids. Her dark, almost muddy green eyes bore into the camera and a snarl was on her face. Lila Rossi, the model that had been employed under Agreste for quite some years now and had turned into a sort of reality TV celebrity after she got too old to be hired for as many modeling gigs. She was known as highly untrustworthy, a lie monger and the most infamous gossip in the celebrity world. The headline for the article was;

“THE PARISIAN NIGHTMARE FINALLY OVER! AFTER THIRTY YEARS OF TORMENT, THE HAWKMOTHS OF PAST AND PRESENT HAVE BEEN ARRESTED.”

Underneath that title picture was another, this one detailing the Parisian heroes to stop Hawkmoth, who had been replaced years ago by his female counterpart Monarch, a play on the Monarch Butterfly. The Heroes, on the other hand, had remained mostly the same after the infamous confusion of the early years of Hawkmoth’s reign of terror, where Ladybug had temporarily started adding hero after hero to the team before mysteriously and suddenly retiring almost all of them.

On the right was Ladybug, who stood proud with her arms crossed and a somber gaze directed towards the two unmasked villains. On the left was Chat Noir, in a weird black leather costume that was like a bizzare yet fashionable meld of DiscoWing and the classic Batman uniform. Minus a cape or cowl, of course. Standing behind them, all fanned out, were the last four members of their team. Viperion, in a dark teal snake-themed costume. Ryuuko, standing next to him in a black and red ensemble with her elemental symbol proudly on her chest. Bunnyx, in her bright baby blue and white, and lastly the imperious Stinger behind them in her black outfit with gold accents.

As everyone but Alfred and Bruce read the article and examined the photos as quickly as they could, the eldest vigilante in the room slowly removed his cowl. His eyes were wide, disbelieving as they stared only at the two pictures on the screen and didn’t pay any heed to the article itself.

“Thirty years,” Jason remarked, turning to face Bruce angrily. “Paris has been under attack by magical madmen for thirty years, and you never told us? We knew nothing about this, and this has been going on since before us. Since before you, even,” he waved a hand at the screen angrily. “You know that they have been under attack since before Batman was even a thing, and you never said anything? We could have helped! The league could have—“

“Been a liability,” Bruce interrupted, but it was the uncharacteristic softness to his tone that ultimately shut Jason up and attracted everyone else’s rapid attention. “The league knows. The founding members, anyway. It was something I briefed them on back when we first founded the League, but we were careful to keep any mention of it off of any electronic system. The magic behind the attacks stopped any word of the terrorism from getting out through normal means. We pretended to put the JLE in Paris, when really they are centered miles out of city limits and never set foot inside Paris’s boundaries.”

“Why?” Dick asked, his own mask off so that he could glare into Bruce’s eyes without it obscuring his expression at all. He wasn’t explosively angry like Jason, but it was clear that Dick wasn’t happy either. “They all look to be your age, Bruce. Which means they’ve been fighting HawkMoth since they were teenagers, on their own, since before there was any Justice League or very many other established heroes at all to provide backup. And I get that HawkMoth and Monarch seem to have controlled or fed off negative emotions and a lot of us would have been liabilities, but there are Leaguers who have extreme control over their emotions. You could have gone. Or J’onn, you could have even sent Tim. Anybody to help even a little.”

“Paris isn’t my city, it’s Ladybug’s city. The League and most metahuman heroes stay out of Gotham because I asked them too, but I am not the first to have the idea that keeping other heroes out of a volatile city can be beneficial for damage control. Ladybug herself told me not to allow any interference in the situation,” Bruce braced himself against the back of one of their metal debriefing chairs, leaning forward so it could take most of his weight. That, and the way he never looked away from the photos displayed on the computer, tipped off everyone else that Bruce might not have stayed uninvolved willingly. That he had a deeper connection to the whole Paris mess than just keeping a shrewd eye on a possible issue.

“You know Ladybug?” Tim decides to speak up, leaning back against the desk that housed the batcomputer keyboard. His voice was decidedly softer than that of his elder brothers’.

Bruce nodded, still in an odd partial trance. “We met when I was on a trip to Paris, before I became Batman. It was twenty-three years ago, I was eighteen and found out the hard way about the situation that the rest of the world was somehow oblivious to. I was able to meet Ladybug during one of her patrols, and confronted her. Even after I became Batman two years later, she refused any help. It wasn’t until about a year before I adopted Dick that I finally decided I couldn’t keep worrying about a situation and people that I wasn’t being allowed to help, so I told Alfred to use the sources that Ladybug had given me back when we first met to check in on the situation every month or two. I know that it was not the best decision, making Alfred do what I couldn’t bring myself to, but by the time I adopted Dick I had mostly forgotten about it. I was too worried about trying to figure out how to raise a kid and then deal with raising a vigilante kid after that, for the first time.”

Silence reigned for a while. This was, essentially, news that Bruce had been waiting to hear for over twenty years. An outcome that he had been barred from being a part of. Talk about bittersweet, especially when Bruce seemed so passionate about wanting to have helped. Probably too guilty about not being allowed to.

In the end, it was Damian who made the connection between this news and his father’s foreign mood and behavior first. Or at least, he was the first to vocalize it. Cass probably noticed it sooner.

“You have feelings for Ladybug,” Damian somehow managed to make the declaration sound like a reprimand. “I admit, she is likely much better of a suitor for you than that mangy cat, but I hardly think that trying to start courting her again after so long apart is reasonable. She could have changed from—“

“I know, Damian,” Bruce’s knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the chair. “Trust me, I have spent more than enough hours contemplating calling her again to catch up, but I knew it was best to stay away. I had grown busy with Batman and the League anyway, and adding the time difference on there was no way any relationship between us would have been feasible.”

“So you cut yourself off from even being her friend. Which, might I remind you, I heavily advised against,” Alfred finally cut back into the conversation, hands clasped behind his back. “The two of you had maintained a perfectly stable long distance friendship for over five years, and I still consider the day you cut her off to be one of your stupidest mistakes, master Bruce. On an unrelated note, I received a call from the designer that you always commission your more high-fashion suits from, sir. She is coming to Gotham for a time, and I gave her an invitation to come visit for dinner tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind.” With that said, Alfred turned on his heel and walked away.

“That man never raises his voice, but somehow still makes you feel like absolute shit when he gets mad,” Stephanie mused aloud when the butler had left, earning silent nods from everyone else.

“How are you still alive, Father?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow over one vibrant green eye. “If you cut off Ladybug only to continue to commission the person that I assume is her civilian identity on a regular basis, how has that idiocy not blended into the rest of your life?”

“It has,” Jason added in, always up for a game of Rag on Bruce. “He’s just always had this annoying ability of surviving even the shittiest situations he ends up in. It’s like he has plot armor or something.”

Bruce only grunted, pulling his cowl back on. “Patrol. Robin, you’re with Red Robin today. Don’t kill each other.”

“Oh no, I want to live to see the girl you’ve apparently been crushing on since you were a teenager,” Tim said as he ambled over to his motorcycle. “Seeing THAT reunion is gonna be way better than picking another fight with Demon Spawn.”

“Tt.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Your tie won’t get any straighter,” Barbara teased Bruce, watching as he fiddled with the tie around his throat for the millionth time in just the past ten minutes. Alfred had made sure that he couldn’t escape this, even going so far as benching Batman for the night.

And to make matters worse, it was still far too early for patrol so all the Wayne kids were present. Stephanie had other obligations to see to, unfortunately, but other than her even Jason had come over to the manor to see the fallout.

“Master Bruce, she is here,” Alfred’s voice cut through the almost palpable nerves emanating from the usually stoic or charismatic man. Batman was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but neither was Playboy Billionaire Brucie Wayne. No, this was Bruce Wayne, as genuine as anybody could see him. And more nervous than his kids had ever witnessed.

The door was opened, and in stepped someone that defied any of the Batkid’s preconceptions. They were expecting someone suave, sophisticated, with hard-earned muscle trying to hide under her skin. Like a Wonder Woman type of person, bursting with strength except for when they made an effort to disguise it. But that was not what they got. No suave, sophisticated bachelorette of a businesswoman and reputable fashion designer. No goddess-masquerading-as-a-human. Not even a femme fatale like Selina Kyle or most of Batman’s exes.

But there was a distinct observation that the kids made the moment they saw her.

Black hair, so dark that it seemed to reflect blue in the light, and clear blue eyes that were dark, vibrant, and seemed to glow with intelligence and humor, with just the slightest gray tones that hid in them grim experiences and disillusion.

She had a smile that was eerily similar to Dick’s when she laid eyes on the family and let it spread across her face. It was like the warmth of the sun, and instantly made the impersonal foyer feel cozy and welcoming. But the sharpness in her eyes as she scanned over all the people gathered, more than she expected if her eyebrow raise was any indication, was just like Tim. Too much like Tim.

She came to a stop a few feet away from the Wayne clan, and rested one hand on her waist as she popped her hip out. Jason’s attitude.

Her hair was up in a simple but elegant bun, with a braid curling around the base of it. She was small, about five foot four if their estimates were correct, and the sleek sleeves of her midnight blue dress simultaneously emphasized and disguised the lithe, corded muscle mass that seemed to flow smoothly down her arms. Not a brawler’s muscle, but an acrobat or gymnast’s. The delicate silver embroidery along the sleeves and trim of her dress, and curling around her waist like a belt of thread, was in actuality a string of bats in various flight poses interspersed with silver swirls and tiny ladybugs. Her own playful personality, it seemed, something innocent and daring and subtle all at once that didn’t quite fit any of the kids, it was solely hers.

“I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” the woman finally introduced herself, holding out her hand even as her radiant smile stayed firmly in place. When her eyes found Bruce again, they stayed there. “An old friend of your father’s. And by the way, Bruce. If you ever cut contact with me again without ever explaining yourself, I will not stay twiddling my thumbs in some other city again. I will hunt you down and get you to tell me what exactly possessed you to freeze me out, and only if it is some really good reasoning will I let you off without giving you a remedial lesson in the importance of dodging.”

Damian’s fire.

Dick looked over at Bruce, then at Marinette. She caught his eye, nodded and winked, and looked back to her old friend.

“But I do have to say, this looks suspiciously like a family we might have had if you had ever gotten up the courage to ask me out all those years ago instead of not realizing that I never specifically forbade you from visiting Paris, only heroes in general. You’re lucky I’m patient. I spent thirty years waiting to get back the Butterfly Miraculous and lock those two up for good, but making me wait twenty years to finally confess to you is a bit much, don’t you think? And adopting kids with only blue eyes and black hair is a bit on the nose, even for you.”

Scratch that, Damian’s loyalty.

Bruce really had adopted kids that reminded him of Marinette in some way, and the way he would grin or smile at Damian when he was displaying his usually subtle but steady loyalty, or the way that Bruce had almost unending tolerance for Damian’s stubbornness, it all started to make sense.

Bruce had tried building a family around the one he imagined he could have had with Marinette.

“Mari—“

“Nope. You’ve made me wait this long, you don’t even get a hug until after dinner. Then we can catch up, and you’ll take me out to dinner in a few days,” suddenly what was happening seemed to creep up on the woman, and she fidgeted. Sheepishness rose to her face, and she winced at her own words. But damn, she had imagined this day for so long, she couldn’t help but get assertive! “I mean, if you want to. I get it if you lost interest in dating me, but—“

“How about I set up a private dinner on the top of Wayne enterprises, day after tomorrow. We can even do a patrol afterwards if you’re up to it.”

His sons all facepalmed, some inwardly and some outwardly. Barbara groaned and Cass pinched the bridge of her nose. But, to their astonishment, Marinette’s smile just came back full force.

“Aww, you know I can’t resist the offer of a patrol. But just one, I want to enjoy some time off now that I’m not perpetually on-call as Paris’s main hero.”

Bruce finally grinned back, his eyes soft for the first time in a while that wasn’t directed at his kids. In way that they had never been soft towards Selina or most of his past flings.

“Just one patrol, then.”

“Sounds like a date.”

First attempt to upload this goofed and deleted the first part, so here is attempt number two! Again, Brucinette has been invading my dreams.

Apparently there is a part 2 now.

#mlb x dc #ml x dc #brucinette #aged up marinette

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seblaine-rph · 3 years

Note

While you're looking into rps can we talk about Devereux Academy for a minute? A basic look at their main and rules reveals Kristin Stewart as an FC but she's asked repeatedly not to be used in rp, people getting originally tested for being Dom Switch or sub at 17, the rp wording is almost an exact replica of another rp that ran for a while, and they are allowing the Motta family to be whitewashed with a white Robert Pattinson FC. I'm sure theres more i was just too disgusted to keep looking.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been told to take a look at @devereuxacademy or heard about it being problematic. I can’t tell you about the dash and I’m not going to troll through everyone’s blogs, so if there is something on the dash that anyone would like to share with me (problematic plots, not tagging triggers, admin behavior,etc) then feel free to send another ask.

More than one person came to me when this rp first hit the tags, asking if I thought they had stolen parts of their rp. I reported this by answering multiple different asks about it and they never responded, which is very telling. Honestly, I think they did. Intentionally or not, they do have a lot of parts of other, existing roleplays in their plot and there are so many copy and pasted things that it looks to be done on purpose. You can say, “but it’s a D/s academy rp and there’s only so many ways to rp in a school, so of course it looks similar to other rps of the same genre” except for the part where even academy rps have their own unique plot points, including the history of the world, social economics, and the school as well as the history of the administration. And that wasn’t the last time it was brought to my attention, or the only reason. I do see it, if we’re looking for my opinion on the matter of stolen plot content. I can see at least three different roleplays that were already in the tags for a long time, weaved together to make this group. I don’t really see anything that is original in the plot or worldview info, aside from maybe the intense details on IVF as the reason for there being so many triplets. Don’t quote me on that, though, it may have been used before. I just haven’t seen it.

It weirds me out that they have all of their characters being thrust into nsfw situations before 18, with what should be an 18+ concept like BDSM, and at the same time they’re a discord rp as well as a tumblr rp. It says on their application that the characters are tested to find out which mark they are at 17. That’s a minor, being tested in a nsfw way because however you slice it BDSM and D/s are nsfw and nobody under the age of 18 can legally or morally be allowed to even dip a single toe in and that includes taking a test to find out what kinks they like and whether they’re going to want to be catching or receiving when it comes to sex. It just makes me wonder what’s being hidden in the discord. I’d also like to mention that they do have the option to play teachers as well as students, which is just weird and gross to me in this instance. The content is nsfw, clearly some students are going to get with teachers. It’s weird enough when it’s a sfw college rp and students do not smut with teachers, but being a teacher is a respectable character choice so I can see why you’d want to do it. If you were going to focus on talking to other teachers and developing plots with other teachers. In this instance though... the power dynamic between teachers and students are way different and there is a sexual overtone automatically because this is a kinky smut rp. You can also play a character as young as 21, which just makes me hope there are no relationships being written out by naive 21 year olds with their 30-40-50+, way more mature, could be their parent teacher. That might sound like I’m making up something that would never happen, but I have seen someone try to play a 62 year old lesbian that was predatory towards 19 year olds and even claimed one in a D/s rp like this. We all know how Glee rps work, we all know this line has already been crossed. We all also know why that’s gross- it’s an abuse of power and there is no way that a teacher/student dynamic could be cute because there will always be a sense of one person being way more mature than the other and being in a seat of power. Another reason to wonder what’s being hidden on this discord.

There are incorrectly casted families. In particular, I’m seeing POC families with fcs that should not belong because they do not match. I’d really like to know how it is that two Filipino girls and a black girl are twins. As a general note to the admins, you can’t erase half of someone’s ethnicity either. There are other families where one or more character is half right but also half wrong in an offensive way. And some families that are just wrong. I do give them props on some of this being right, but that doesn’t erase the other problems. You can’t whitewash people. Not all Asians are the same. Not all Latinx people are the same. Brown people aren’t interchangeable. Let me just list these so they’re easier to fix:

In the Adams family, Alex Newell is African-American but the fc has a sister that’s British, Polish and Caribbean. That might be picking at straws but I always find it offensive when people pick and choose how to group ethnicities- like deciding all Asians are the same so they can be related. Either way, she’s over half white which doesn’t match up.

Laura Harrier is Rachel Berry, she is half black and half white with Jewish background so that’s a really nice choice but then she’s twins with two Haliee Steinfeld fcs? Hailee who is Filipino... She’s also been accused of using the N word and being racist so she’s on a lot of people’s banned lists for the same reasons as Lea Michele.

Brianna Tju is in a Chinese family but she’s half Indonesian. She’s also a Disney Channel star, so some people find that problematic from the start, because most of her resources are from kid’s shows at an age that is too young to be roleplaying. She’s only 22 now, which is old enough to rp, however the only real resources she has are from something that aired in 2015 and was likely filmed in 2014 or earlier. When she was definitely a minor.

Kaya Scoldelario is Brazilian. She’s whitewashed by being placed in the Clarington family.

Zoe Deutch is Jewish. Her siblings are Matthew Daddario (Slovak, Italian, Irish, Hungarian, and English) and Haley Lu Richardson, who has a white background that doesn’t include Jewish. This is the Corcoran family as well, which should be Jewish, since they’re all related to Idina Menzel.

Victoria Pedretti is Jewish and she’s in the very white Evans family.

None of the older Fabrays are Jewish, and Ashley Johnson is Native American but also somehow a twin of the white Frannie Fabray.

Principal Figgins is played by someone that is Pakistani but the Figgins on the masterlist is played by Dev Patel, who is Gujarati Indian.

Tyler Hoechlin is also partially Native American, but he is placed in the Flangan (Irish, like straight out of Ireland) family that has Rory recast as Thomas Dogherty (Scottish) with an Ariana Grande (Italian) twin as well.

Kristen Stewart is on the masterlist but she has asked numerous times not to be used in roleplay because it makes her uncomfortable. I just covered this for another roleplay, and I’ve seen other people mention it, so it’s common knowledge at this point. She has been saying this for a long time. She’s also placed as the twin of Danielle Campbell, who is Mexican and Cajun French while Kristen is just white and the canon family member (Gilbert, so Adam Lambert) is Jewish.

Zendaya is also placed as a twin to Samantha Ware. Zendaya is mixed race, half black and half white, while Samantha is black.

Yvette Monreal is the twin to Demi Lovato. Yvette is Chilean. Demi is Mexican and Portuguese.

Avan Jogia is a Hart, but he is Gujarati Indian and white. He would be a better family relation to Dev Patel than anyone else on the masterlist and vice versa. As a refresher, Samuel Larsen (the canon fc for the Hart family) is Mexican, Danish, Spanish and Persian.

Maddison Jaizani is Iranian, but she’s listed as a Holliday which makes her related to Gwyneth Paltrow... a blonde, white woman.

Jacob Elordia is Basque and his sibling on the masterlist is Marie Avgeropoulos, a Greek actress.

Rafael Silva is Brazilian, but he is a Lopez triplet, related to a Mexican-Irish sister (Lindsay Morgan) and a Mexican-Jewish sister (Alexa Demie).

Sugar Motta is played by Vanessa Lengies on Glee, an Egyptian actress. Her family is whitewashed with two white fcs, Kelli Berglung and Robert Pattinson.

Kaylee Byrant is Japanese but she is twin to Madison Beer (Jewish) and Daisy Ridley (white).

The Puckerman family has lost its Jewish heritage. The only two on Noah’s side are Adelaide Kane (white) and Luke Pasqualino (Italian). Jake Puckerman has been recast as Justice Smith, who is half black and half white but is not Jewish. His sister is Samantha Logan who is half Trinidadian and half white and Pauline Singer, who is full Fijian.

Antonia Gentry is cast as a Weston. She is Jamaican, her listed twin is half white and half African-American. The newest acceptance for a Weston is for an African American fc.

Lili Reinhart is on the masterlist, but she’s problematic. She’s defended the abusive behavior of her cast mate, Cole Sprouse, who was very publicly accused of sexual assault and abuse. She’s also been accused of blackface annnnnnnd she’s used queer baiting to get people to watch the show. (She teased a girl on girl relationship publicly, telling people to watch the show because they might finally get to see something between Betty and Veronica, knowing that the fans wanted it, but then when she was asked about it in a later interview she scoffed and acted like it was absolutely impossible and would never happen, some would say she even sounded offended by the thought-- which is what everyone got mad at Melissa Benoist for doing with Supergirl.)

David Corenswet is Jewish, cast with Emily Browning as a sister, who is not.

I applaud the Brazilian change for Lauren Zizes, but Ashley Fink was a welcome representation of plus size actresses and the new fc is less than half her size. She’s still plus size technically, but she’s “model plus size,” which is not at all the same as Lauren’s body type. I ran this by someone that this change would affect and they were not pleased. They were the one that pointed this out to me, because it bothered them as a plus size person to see one of the few plus size characters recasted with a skinnier fc.

Dove Cameron is also on the masterlist, but she’s on a bunch of people’s banned lists. She replied to a fan that said they wanted her to notice them that they were stupid and had no life if that was one of their goals. She’s been rude to cast and crew on set. Dove has also been accused of throwing a fit and making the writers change the Descendants script to take the relationship that was written out for a black actress. She’s being accused of yellow fishing, which I believe is the term for trying to look Asian. She wore a Native American headdress in a cultural appropriation type of way. She’s been accused of being fatphobic and hiding behind photoshop on her social media while saying she doesn’t photoshop, so she’s giving off a false sense of reality to her fans. She’s been talking badly about someone that is trying to get their sexual assault story out there. The latest thing that’s come out about her is a rant about how mental health isn’t real and that people just need to logic their way out of depression? Which would be coming from a seat of high privilege. She wrote a series of tweets on the topic, calling negative mental health and the feelings they cause “a choice.” There’s a whole hashtag on Tumblr for her.

I’m not at all surprised to see that all of the diverse characters are open. No Artie, no Unique- who could definitely be recast as an actual trans woman, now that we’re living in the age of recasting for reasons of problematic natures- if we can have a new Puck, new Finn, new Rachel, and new Santana why not an appropriate Unique? She is literally the only canon trans woman, why not treat her with respect? They recasted Cooper to better fit the proper ethnicity, so...

#glee rph #glee rp #glee twin rp #glee multiples rp #smut rp #ds rp #kink rp #rph #rpcw #rpcha #sebastian answers #devereuxacademy #Anonymous

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 4 years

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She-who-fights-and-writes Coronacation Book Rec List

I know that a lot of people are stuck at home right now in dire need of entertainment, so I decided I’d put out a book recommendations list of all the books I’m currently reading and all of my must-reads!

(Just a note that a lot of these are Fantasy because I’m a fantasy nerd haha)

Books/Series I am currently reading

1. The Folk of the Air Trilogy by Holly Black (Currently on #2, The Wicked King)

Genre: High Fantasy

Setting: The land of Faerie which is kind of historical, but in the human world it is modern day

Main cast :

Jude Duarte (white, human, cutthroat, if I saw her in a Denny’s Parking Lot at 3am I would RUN)

Cardan Greenbriar (white, faerie, the true embodiment of Bastard)

Vivienne (Jude’s half-sister, lesbian with canon gf, half-human half-faerie, I would totally try to be her friend)

Taryn Duarte (Jude’s twin sister, queen doormat, still, I would take a bullet for her she’s jUST TRYING TO FIT IN)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

These books have been on my “To Read” list for so long now and for some reason I just never got around to reading them! Hands-down, these are some of the best high fantasy books that I’ve read in a long, long while.

I finished the first book, The Cruel Prince, in just two days and rated it 5/5 stars! Even though these books are high fantasy and focus on the traditions and ways of life of faeries, somehow all of the characters seem like I could meet them in real life!

The main character actually has genuine flaws and not just “””“flaws”””” and is a Bad Bitch down with murder, and the plot had me on the edge of my seat from page one!

The summary makes it sound like it’s going to be about their romance, but it’s really mostly about a power struggle and Jude being a badass.

Goodreads summary for The Cruel Prince:

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

2. The Raven Cycle Series by Maggie Stiefvater (Currently on #1, The Raven Boys)

Genre: Present-Day/Realistic Fantasy (?)

Setting: The fictional town of Henrietta, Virginia

I haven’t gotten around to much of the book, so there’s not much I can tell you about the characters and I can’t properly give it a rating yet.

These books were also on my “To Read” list for a while; I was a huge fan of her book The Scorpio Races and have also been looking for something to quench my thirst for “private school/ghosts/magic” that I’ve been dealing with ever since I read The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo.

I’ve only JUST started The Raven Cycle yesterday, but so far I am hooked! I’m super worried because I’m TERRIBLE at juggling two series at a time but both of these are just so interesting!

Goodreads Summary for The Raven Boys:

“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.” It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive. Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her. His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble. But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little. For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.

MY MUST-READ BOOK LIST

1. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Genre: Historical Fiction

Setting: 1700s Europe (England, Paris, Barcelona, Marseilles, Venice)

Main cast (I’ll try my best not to spoil anything because you find out a LOT of different stuff about these characters throughout the book):

Henry “Monty” Montague (white, bi/pansexual, attitude problem)

Percy Newton (mixed race, gay, very sweet boy, definitely got “most likely to bring home to mom” in the yearbook)

Felicity Montague (white, Monty’s little sister, headcanoned as asexual, I love her to death)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Daring adventure, gay representation, historical setting, hilarious characters!

This book literally has it all! I would consider it one of my favorite books of all time, yet for some reason I’ve never gotten around to reading any of the sequel books! The ending is very satisfying and ties everything together, which I feel is part of the reason why I haven’t gotten around to them yet.

Therefore, it can serve as a one-shot read or a full series if you want to dive into something good!

The humor made me laugh out loud at points and all of the characters are very real and very, very relatable, not to mention the vivid settings of 1700s Europe!

Goodreads summary:

Henry “Monty” Montague was born and bred to be a gentleman, but he was never one to be tamed. The finest boarding schools in England and the constant disapproval of his father haven’t been able to curb any of his roguish passions—not for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men. But as Monty embarks on his Grand Tour of Europe, his quest for a life filled with pleasure and vice is in danger of coming to an end. Not only does his father expect him to take over the family’s estate upon his return, but Monty is also nursing an impossible crush on his best friend and traveling companion, Percy. Still it isn’t in Monty’s nature to give up. Even with his younger sister, Felicity, in tow, he vows to make this yearlong escapade one last hedonistic hurrah and flirt with Percy from Paris to Rome. But when one of Monty’s reckless decisions turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt that spans across Europe, it calls into question everything he knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores.

2. The Ninth House By Leigh Bardugo

Genre: Horror, Fantasy

Setting: Yale University and the town of New Haven, Present Day

Main cast:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern (Hispanic, sees dead people, very scary)

Daniel Arlington “Darlington” (white, rich, an angel who can sometimes be a dick)

Pamela Dawes (tbh I honestly don’t remember what she looks like, only that she’s a tired grad student with big nerd energy)

Detective Alan Turner (Black, takes shit from nobody, husband material)

Rating: 4/5 Stars

(NOTE: THIS IS VERY DARK ADULT FICTION AND CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME PEOPLE, WOULD NOT RECOMMEND FOR PEOPLE UNDER 16)

This book is a great read for someone who’s looking for a disturbing, gritty book with layers upon layers of secrets that you have to peel away as the mystery unfolds. I love the secret societies and the intricate magic systems that the book introduces, and it actually made me hungry for more books like it!

Alex is a three-dimensional, very real character who also serves as an unreliable narrator who witholds or warps the information that she’s telling you, making the narrative all the more riveting.

The only issues that I have with it are the fact that Leigh Bardugo kind of just dumps you in the middle of it without explaining stuff first, to the point where it kind of feels like you’re reading the second installment of a series rather than the first one, so things can get a bit confusing at first.

The book also can drag and draw things out for a bit too long, but once the plot fully kicks into gear, you will not be able to put it down!

Goodreads summary:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. Raised in the Los Angeles hinterlands by a hippie mom, Alex dropped out of school early and into a world of shady drug dealer boyfriends, dead-end jobs, and much, much worse. By age twenty, in fact, she is the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved multiple homicide. Some might say she’s thrown her life away. But at her hospital bed, Alex is offered a second chance: to attend one of the world’s most elite universities on a full ride. What’s the catch, and why her? Still searching for answers to this herself, Alex arrives in New Haven tasked by her mysterious benefactors with monitoring the activities of Yale’s secret societies. These eight windowless “tombs” are well-known to be haunts of the future rich and powerful, from high-ranking politicos to Wall Street and Hollywood’s biggest players. But their occult activities are revealed to be more sinister and more extraordinary than any paranoid imagination might conceive.

3. The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Genre: Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Setting: Earth, Space, The Moon

Main cast :

Linh Cinder (Chinese, based on Cinderella, cyborg, certified badass)

Scarlet Benoit (French, based on Little Red Riding Hood, farmer who is not afraid to shoot you)

Cress Darnel (White, based on Rapunzel, nerd, I will protect her with my life if I have to)

Kaito “Kai” (Chinese, based on Prince Charming, kind of has to run a whole country, a very kind soul, deserves a nap)

Carswell Thorne (White, based off of Rapunzel’s Prince, bastard)

Winter Hayle (Black, based off of Snow White, royalty, has super special powers)

Wolf (Race unspecified, based off of the Big Bad Wolf, charming killing machine, furry????)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Do you like fairy tales?

Have you ever wanted to know what fairy tales would be like if they took place in the FUTURE instead of the PAST?

Do you like an amazing, hilarious cast paired with a super interesting plot?

These are the books for you!

I haven’t read them in so long, but I remember how much joy I felt while devouring these pages. Definitely something you will not able to put down!

Goodreads Summary for Book #1: Cinder:

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future.

4. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Genre: Fantasy

Setting: Ancient Greece

Main cast:

Patroclus (Greek, Gay, quiet pining)

Achilles (Greek, gay, very strong, student athlete energy)

Brisies (Anatolian, clever, literally the only one in this story who has a brain cell)

Rating: 100000/5 stars

This is basically the Iliad but if historians hadn’t completely erased Patroclus and Achilles’ relationship. “Haha yeah these guys were totally bros” they say, even though I have read the Iliad and their relationship isn’t even subtle.

This book made me cry at least ten times. It’s just so beautifully written and has such a distinct vibe to it that whenever I crack it open for another time, it takes me straight back to the vacation that I read it on. (Needless to say, sobbing your eyes out can be less than helpful when you’re on the beach)

If you can only read one book on this list, it should be this one. I could talk all day about it and write novels on just how much of an incredible writer Madeline Miller is, but I feel like you’d get my drift a bit better if you actually read the book.

Goodreads Summary:

Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear. Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.

Hope this list helps you through your coronacation, and please don’t be afraid to reblog or message me to tell me if you’ve read/will read any of these!

#books #book recs #book rec #book reccomendation #book reccomendations #coronacation #corona #coronavirus #covid-19 #book rec list

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danyka-fendyr · 4 years

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Absence of Good - 9

Chapter Nine: Legerdemain

Hello everyone! As promised, I am posting another chapter of Absence of Good within the same week! I know, I’m kind of stunned too. If it comforts anyone, this is completely unedited, so that’s still on brand for me. I’m really excited for where I’m going to take this series next. I have some ideas for what the plot conflict is going to be now that our two idiots are together, hehe. For now though, enjoy this mostly wholesome chapter (minus the murder, obviously).

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli @alwaysadreamingoptimist

AoG Taglist: @pancakefancake @prettyboyspenerrr @youreasnack @alioop3818 @newtslatte @rathersuspiciousbumblebee @andiebeaword @stalker83005

Wordcount: 3206

Warnings: Murder. Some gore. Generally disturbing themes. Mentions of abuse.

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.” ― Salvador Plascencia

You had been on this case for a week now, and it was starting to take a toll on you. Hotch had put you all on a plane about 5 minutes after your confession to Spencer, which at the time you hadn’t been worried about. Little did you know this would be the world’s longest-running case, and you had barely gotten 5 minutes with Spencer.

This was one of those rare times where splitting you and Spencer up was pretty much unavoidable. They needed his brain at headquarters to track this guy and they needed your body out in the field to catch the guy. You and Emily had been teaming up a lot, and while you had learned a lot from her, she was no Dr. Reid.

You missed him. You didn’t realize how much time you had been spending with him until the most you got was a quick, “Hi, how are you?” as you handed him coffee. He had been throwing himself at the books, forgetting to do basic things like eat and drink, so you tried to remember for him when you could. You were all at the end of your rope with this guy.

This unsub, whoever he was, just so happened to be extremely clever. You could only imagine how high his kill rate was, as you were sure this was not where he had started. No, the precision this guy worked with was almost a thing of beauty, if it hadn’t made you want to vomit. Apparently, eyelids were very hard to sew together, but this guy, he was pretty damn good at it.

You climbed up the hill, thighs burning as you approached the top, boots digging into the soft dewy ground. The sun had only just started rising about an hour ago, and you felt your eyelids weigh almost as heavy as your limbs. Emily was right behind you, the ragged pace of her breathing matching yours.

When you reached the top of the hill you couldn’t say you were greeted by your favorite sight.

“Oh. Well that’s just lovely,” you huffed out.

“It’s certainly new.” Emily was turning a little green around the gills.

Evidently, your man had gotten bored of just sewing people’s eyelids shut. This guy had his eyes sewed shut, sure, but he was also cut in half. So that was fun.

“Do you see the dove?” You started scanning for it, knowing it would be present somewhere on the crime scene.

Emily found it first, lying a few feet away from your victim. She bent down to closer inspect the plastic bird, looking for any sign that the killer might have left behind a message or a fingerprint. No such luck.

“Okay, well we know this had to be time consuming, right?” You said.

“To sever a man’s spine? Yeah. That’s no easy task.”

“He’s escalating. Showing off. He’s laughing at us,” you mumbled, leaning over the body.

“I think he’s earned the right to. 5 kills in one week? That’s…”

“Not good.”

“I was going to say scary, but that works too.” Emily grimaced.

“Want to head back to the station? I don’t think we can gather much more from here. We’re better off waiting for the M.E.’s report.”

“Hmm…Sure you don’t have any other reason for wanting to go back to the station?”

“Like what,” you said airily.

“Really?” she said. “You don’t think I’ve noticed you’ve been missing your usual partner? It’s okay, honest. You’re not hurting my feelings any.”

You laughed a little bit, relieved that she had either not caught on to anything or had chosen to keep it to herself if she had.

“Hey, I think you make for fine company. That being said, someone has to watch Spencer. He’s losing his mind right now.”

“Yeah. Hotch had to stop him from throwing a book across the room yesterday.”

“Wait, really?”

“Our resident genius is coming a little unhinged.”

You sighed, beginning the descent down the hill.

“I’m worried about him,” you confessed.

“We all are. He’s taking these deaths too personally. I think he feels like it’s his responsibility to figure this guy out, like he’s the genius and he’s not doing his job or something.”

“He puts too much pressure on himself.”

“You can say that again.” Emily rolled her eyes, but her face quickly settled back into a worried frown. “He always has. This case is just difficult. No pattern with the victims, no obvious clues, and no clear connection between eyes, doves, and now being split in two. It’s just a little mystifying.”

You nodded, climbing into the passenger side of the car. Emily liked to drive, and you usually fell asleep in cars, so in that sense at least you were the perfect duo. You laughed at the thought that Hotch would have paired you up for that alone.

“Maybe something about this will make sense to Reid. Maybe this is the piece we’re missing,” you said.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Emily does not sound hopeful.

As soon as you got to the station you were making a beeline for the coffee machine. It was quite literally the only thing you could think about right now. Selfishly, you got your own coffee first, taking a couple of sips to get your brain and heart working in proper order. You definitely hadn’t been this dependent on coffee before you started this job.

Once you felt like you could be reasonably mistaken for a human being again, you made another cup of coffee, dumping a few cups of sugar in. Just how he liked it. You smiled to yourself, probably looking a little crazy. You had known how Spencer liked his coffee forever, but it just felt different now, more intimate somehow. Stupid human brain with its stupid human hormones.

Spencer was alone amidst an entire library’s worth of books. He was sitting surrounded by them on the floor, some of them stacked up around him, built up like a little castle. You tip-toed your way through the maze, heading towards the oblivious genius who clearly had his defenses and his drawbridge (the meager path you had carved for yourself) down.

“Spence.” Your voice was a soft echo in the room.

He jumped, turning around bewildered and bleary. You took in the site of him, the circles under his eyes that were moats of purple and the way his hands twitched like they were trying to turn a page or hold a shield he had misplaced. Gently, you smoothed out a stray piece of hair that was falling into his eyes.

“Brought you coffee,” you offered, shuffling around a few books to settle down on the floor next to him.

He relaxed, reaching out to take the cup.

“Find anything?” you asked.

“Nope. What about you? Hotch told me there was a new body this morning.”

“Yeah. This guy was chopped in half. We’re waiting on the M.E.’s report. Other than that, nothing new except for me almost losing my breakfast. Not cute.”

“I think you would have been very cute projectile vomiting over a corpse.” He grinned at you.

“Is that what you tell all the girls Dr. Reid?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No. Just you.”

“Hmmm…” You squinted at him playfully. “Then what do the other girls get that I’m missing out on?”

“What if I said there are no other girls?” He raised an eyebrow, but a hint of seriousness crept into his voice.

“Then I would say you’re a liar,” you whispered, leaning forward until your face was dangerously close to his.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, voice low, eyes lower as they traveled well below your own.

“Oh, do magic tricks for me like one of your French girls, Spencer!” You feigned a swoon, one palm falling back onto a red leather-bound book to support you, the spine digging into the heel of your hand.

“Well, I could. Or I could return your hair tie.”

You glanced down at your free wrist, alarmed to find it hair tie free.

“How did you?”

He just smiled charmingly, pulling it out from behind your ear.

“I can think of other things you could do that with,” you suggested, waggling your eyebrows. “But seriously, how?”

“A magician never tells his secrets.”

“Yeah, well I wish they would start.” You soured again, thinking back to the case. “I would love to know how this guy sawed his latest victim in half.”

Spencer sat up rigid, eyes going blank as he thought faster than you could ever hope to process.

“Spence?”

“We need to get that M.E.’s report right now,” he said, standing and leading a one-man charge out of the hardbound, softcover castle he had built.

You followed behind him, scrambling to keep up. Unsurprisingly, you two ended up at the M.E.’s, who was mid-examination.

“Was the victim sawed in half?” Spencer said, not bothering with any niceties.

“He’s Dr. Reid, we’re with the FBI,” you clarified, confused where he was going with this.

“Umm…” The medical examiner looked a little bewildered but answered the question anyway. “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure this was the work of a saw. Not an electrical one either. Very unusual. Probably took him a very long time to do.”

Reid spun around, heading right back to his books, leaving you to helplessly follow after tossing a hasty goodbye to the poor M.E.

“Spence, what is all of this about?” You asked once you had wended your way back to where you started.

“Don’t you see?” He asked, a slightly insane light to his eyes. “It all makes sense now. The dove, the saw, even the eyes. It all connects!”

“Spence, I think you need to maybe go lie down for a little bit.” You reached for something he could eat, spotting a box of donuts left half-empty on a table in the office space he had appropriated. “Why don’t you have a piece of bread and maybe you’ll calm down.”

“No, look,” he said, finding the crime scene photos amongst the shuffle of information he had acquired. “What do all of these things mean put together? How saws people in half? Who uses doves as part of their show?”

Finally, it clicked.

“Magicians,” you breathed, Spencer’s energy suddenly becoming contagious.

“Magicians!” He crowed. “Even the eyes make sense. It’s a taunt. ‘Now you see me, now you don’t.’”

“Because he always disappears!”

“Exactly!” Spencer pointed at you triumphantly.

“Okay. Now we just have to find a magician with a bone to pick,” You said, deflating slightly. “How hard could that be in a city of a couple hundred thousand?”

“Better go tell Garcia to start checking Fort Wayne’s yellow pages.”

“Yeah.”

As it turned out, it was apparently not that hard to find a magician with a grudge. For some reason, there were several in this city. However, only a few had the migratory pattern of your culprit, who had been clever enough to cross state lines. He had been playing a long, subtle game before he started to toy with you, but the eyes had always been the same, a very unique touch of his.

“Okay team,” Garcia said, bubbly as ever. “We have learned two things today. One, our guy is probably Larry Harlborrow, A.K.A. Axel Ranger, traveling magician who just so happens to have stopped by all of our unsub’s previous places of residence and stuck around for a while. Two, never trust a magician.”

“Hey!” Reid interjected.

“Never trust a magician whose name is not Spencer Reid,” Garcia amended over the phone.

“Better. Carry on.”

“Anyway, it looks like our guy’s stressor was a messy divorce with his wife. Apparently, the magic business didn’t make him a very good bread winner, and the multiple charges of domestic abuse weren’t exactly a winning point for him either. I suspect it was the latter though that caused her to leave him, taking sole custody of the kids and getting a very neat, tidy restraining order put up against him. More power to her, but that’s where we come to our trigger and coincidentally where our timeline of murder starts. But hey, I’m sure there’s no connection there, right?”

“Address?” Morgan asked.

“Oh, you know I’ve already sent it to your cell, sexy,” Garcia purred.

“Alright, well as grateful as we all are, I think it’s time to hang up while this call can still be called PG-13,” JJ said.

“Good luck my darlings!”

“Thanks baby girl.”

Thankfully for you, it was just a simple snatch and grab, and it was about time you had one. He was at home, so confident in his own skill he didn’t have the slightest inkling you would be interrupting his afternoon. Classic narcissist. The homicide was a fun twist, but you couldn’t call it original.

Morgan kicked down his front door and you burst through to where he was, disgustingly, in the middle of sawing in half another victim. His entire living room was coated in plastic sheets, the kind you draped over furniture if you were painting. You couldn’t say you liked the way blood red matched the rest of his décor.

“Hands in the air!” You shouted, aiming your gun.

For a moment he paused, saw still in his blood covered hands, victim well and truly dead before him. You couldn’t believe he was actually considering not giving himself up.

“Piece of advice? Don’t bring a saw to a gunfight,” Emily warned.

That seemed to be enough to snap him out of it, and slowly, he raised his hands in the air. You cuffed him, trying not to look at the body so close to you.

“Try slipping your way out of this one Houdini,” you growled before starting on his Miranda rights.

After safely stowing your mad magician into the back of a cop car, you made your way back to the station to pack up and get ready to go home. It had been a very, very long week. All you wanted was a shower and your soft, warm bed.

You fell asleep almost immediately getting into the jet, your head resting on Reid’s shoulder. You didn’t even care that the rest of the team was watching. This was innocent anyway, and they were all far too tired to care.

When you touched down, you were still so blurry you weren’t sure you could be trusted behind a wheel. Thankfully for you, Spencer noticed.

“I’ll drive Y/L/N home. I still have enough coffee in me for that I think,” he said.

“Okay. I’ve got Emily,” JJ said, supporting her equally sleeping friend.

Spencer bundled you into the car and once again, you were dead to the world for a while, until he was waking you up again to lead you into your apartment.

“Will you stay?” you asked, lazily fumbling for your keys and allowing him to open the door for you.

“Of course,” he said, tucking you under one arm and guiding you inside.

“That was such a long case,” you groaned, stretching out your limbs.

He nodded, setting his satchel down in your doorway.

“Yeah.” A beat. “I missed you.”

You felt everything in you soften at those words, a gasp of relief that it wasn’t just you who had been feeling like this.

“I missed you too. So much.”

He crossed the distance between the two of you in your tiny apartment, wrapping you up in his arms, and you breathed the scent of him in. There was something deeply comforting about this, about the soft material of his sweater and the tickle of his hair brushing against your nose. It was starting to get long again.

“You need a haircut.” Your voice was muffled by his shoulder.

You could hear the frown in his voice. “You don’t like it how it is now.”

“No, I do.” You reached up to play with the longer strands in the back. “Actually, I think you should keep it this way. If you change anything you might get sexier, and then I’ll never be able to focus on cases.”

“Hmm, maybe I will cut it then.”

“No,” you whined.

“I think you need to go to bed.”

He combed a hand through your hair and you sighed blissfully.

“Are you offering to take me to bed Dr. Reid?”

“Something like that,” he said, scooping you off of your feet.

You let out a surprised squeak, wrapping your arms around his neck. The alarmed beating of your heart woke you up a little bit more, enough so that your brain could process the full implications of the fact that Spencer could pick you up with ease. You filed that information away in your brain for future use.

You let him settle you down gently onto the mattress but refused to untwine your arms from where they rested. He tried to move away, but you stopped him.

“One kiss.” A soft, tired plea.

He hadn’t kissed you in a week, and you were starting to forget the way it felt. You never wanted to forget that, the absolute rush of it. Little did he know you had been obsessing over it, pining after him the entire time you had been on this case. You could still focus on your work, but you had always had him in the back of your mind somewhere, holding you, kissing you, making snarky commentary. At some point, Spencer had become an integral part of your life. Without him something important seemed to be missing in a way you couldn’t explain.

“One kiss,” he agreed, leaning down to brush his lips softly against yours.

A shuddery little sigh unwound in your lungs, fluttering out of your mouth to meet his, and in response he deepened the kiss. One hand cupped your face while the other buried itself in your hair, and you loosened your grip on his neck so that your fingers could trace his face. They danced across his features as his lips danced against yours.

You loved the way he kissed. Every time he did it, it was with his whole body. Like it was the only thing he was thinking about, like it was the only thing he would ever think about. The way he curved into you, the furrow of his brow that you traced with the tip of your finger. You almost wanted to open your eyes, to immortalize this moment, but you couldn’t. You were too absorbed by the feel of him.

All of the effort, the concentration that Spence put into his kisses paid off. He was absurdly good at it, stealing your breath away, making you forget that there was anything else in the universe. The flick of his tongue against your lower lip was positively indecent, and you arced into him, pulling him closer.

Disappointingly, he pulled away, breathing hard. You realized you were doing the same, having forgotten about paltry things like breathing while he was kissing you. He walked around to the other side of the bed, toeing his shoes off and coming to lay down beside you.

Gently, he laid a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

“if only these treasures were not so fragile as they are precious and beautiful.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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