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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

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WIP Wednesday

Untitled Fic (Correspondence)

Summary/Story So Far: HotchReid, slow burn, AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at CalTech. Hotch gets an email from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together - until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant.

They have been dating for some time now, and while they had evolved from written correspondence to phone conversations, they still haven’t crossed those last few barriers. They still haven’t met. They still don’t know what they look like. But at this point it doesn’t matter, because they are already in love. They know they will meet, one day, and that's enough. But then the next step in their relationship is taken right out of their hands... once again, thanks to a case.

Official Posting Date: 04/03/2021

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (NSFW) (Part 5)

(Set in season 6/7, unbeta’d, first draft)

(sometimes I’m worried I’m giving too much of the good stuff away, but I’m also just too excited about it so here you go. Big milestone scene, or half of one anyway. Don’t worry about timelines yet, this takes place about halfway through the fic. It’s going to be a LONG story. This is a very, VERY rough draft just fyi)

The day Spencer sees Hotch the first time, is a complete accident.

He walks into the CalTech physics labs for his students, expecting to do the usual Monday rounds of checking on projects and thesis statements and arguments prepared for the Ph.D. board of directors -- and instead finds all of his doctorate students gathered around the projector screen where the news is being played twelve feet high.

“What’s going on?”

“There was another terrorist bombing in Dallas this morning,” Kimmy Li, his direct office assistant and teacher’s aide, tells him. Sitting cross-legged on top of her desk and holding tea that looks like it’s stone cold now. “They brought in homeland security and the FBI, and it’s all over national news now.”

“That’s where you’re from, isn’t it?” he asks, gentle and wary. When she nods worriedly, he leans against her desk with her and looks to the screen where the news reporter is summarizing the attacks once more.

Hotch is probably there. If they called in the FBI. He pulls out his phone to text him, ask him when he’s landing in Dallas, when Kimmy nudges his arm with her elbow and points to the screen. “Isn’t that your friend?”

He looks up and sure enough, there’s JJ. Her long blonde hair straight and professional, looking sharp in a dark brown pant suit and standing in front of about a dozen different outlet microphones. Her words are clear and concise, explaining a prepared press release he’s sure she wrote out in its entirety just on the flight from Quantico. Behind her is the Dallas police chief, and a few more agents all looking stern and very professional as well. He can only see an intimidating, dark-haired woman, a bald African-American man, and someone who he’s fairly certain is David Rossi.

“Yep, that’s JJ.”

“And is that David Rossi?”

“JJ is going to be doing a lot of explaining the next time we chat on the phone,” he says with a slight smirk. He didn’t even know the man was out of retirement, nor that he was now working with his long time friend. Spencer didn’t like to pry at her about her work or her team. She’d been bounced all over the past year or two, stolen by the pentagon and the State Department, only to be snatched right back by the FBI once more. He didn’t even know anything about her team, and hadn’t bothered to ask --

If he had, he would have asked her if she worked with Hotch a long time ago. But the BAU itself had grown exponentially the past few years. They had multiple teams all over the country, now, and more than one stationed in Quantico at the FBI federal headquarters. The odds were slim to none.

“We ask everyone here in the metropolitan area to remain vigilant, this team is very organized and we believe them to be a home-grown terrorist group. These kinds of groups blur racial and socio-economic lines. It could be anyone. We ask people to stay in their homes, avoid crowded areas, and to divert all traffic around the city instead of through it.”

“She looks good,” Kimmy smiles, a little red in her cheeks.

“She’s taken,” he stage-whispers to her. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“All the good ones are,” Kimmy mumbles, just as JJ looks to her left off screen.

“We will take questions in just a moment, but first our Unit Chief has a few words for the press and the group we are trying to find.” She steps aside, giving a small quirk of her mouth (not a smile, not after everyone that has died today) and makes room for a broad-shouldered, black haired man in a polished professional suit to take the podium. Smoothing his tie, mouth set in a thin line in his stern, authoritative face. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark lashes, the man commanded authority, and even Kimmy (who was gayer than a maypole) made a hum of appreciation.

Spencer smirked and couldn’t help but agree. Unfortunately, he was also taken.

Then, the man begins to speak.

“My name is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, and I’m addressing the leader of the terrorist group that attacked the Capitol building this morning.”

Spencer’s stomach drops to his shoes.

His mouth parts on a sharp, pained gasp.

And his ears ring like an air raid siren, but it doesn’t drown out the deep, familiar tones of the man on the screen.

The man who had whispered huskily into his ear two nights ago, who had wished him good morning last week when he’d just gotten back from a Florida case, who had told Spencer he loved him exactly nineteen days ago and rocked his world to his core.

Now Spencer was staring him in the face, twelve feet high, on a projector screen in front of all his students, and if he hadn’t been leaning against Kimmy’s desk he knows he would have fallen over.

Hotch.

“We have your demands. We know what you want. And you’re not getting them.”

There’s a collective gasp around the lab, and Spencer feels his jaw tighten because this was either a ploy that was going to try and draw the unsubs out into the open, or part of the demand to get the public against the FBI presence. Risky, either way, and he swallows hard as he listens to Hotch lay down the fucking law. Back straight, head high, unblinking and not showing an inch of emotion on his face.

And it’s so… very hot.

And he’s so… extremely handsome.

Spencer is fucked.

He watches the whole press conference, scared to blink and miss one millisecond, soaks up every word and facial tick and nuance he knows by heart in Hotch’s voice. But now he has facial expressions, dark eyes and a strong jaw, to match to it.

“Are you okay, Dr. Reid?” Kimmy asks him, when he finally blinks and realizes his eyes sting from staring so hard, and she looks distraught at her hometown being targeted so viciously. He should be comforting her, not the other way around.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine, I just… I know that team. Not just JJ. Could you,” he pauses, and can’t believe the words that are about to come out of his mouth. “Would you mind finding me a copy of that press conference and emailing it to me? I have some phone calls to make this morning, but I need to watch it again.”

Kimmy stares at him. Because Spencer never needs to rewatch or reread anything. He has an eidetic memory.

But he doesn’t explain himself, just awaits an answer and gives her a grimace of a smile when she nods still a little stunned. “Thanks, Kimmy. Let me know if you need anything.” And with an awkward pat on her shoulder, he bee-lines straight for his office and sits behind his desk. Head in his hands. Hotch’s eyes burned into his memory. His voice and his mouth and his jaw and his…everything.

He still has a half typed message in the text box. And he can’t even bring himself to complete it.

(tbc...)

#THIS IS JUST A SNIPPET #This is almost outline format for me but GOD I didn't want to wait until next week for it #I'm just building and building up the hype for this story #I hope if lives up to the expectations #but also it's just fun making moodboards for everything #THIS SATURDAY I'll get the masterpost set up so keep an eye out #But posting begins NEXT SATURDAY #Who's as ready as I am?#HotchReid #Heid #katyswriting

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

Rating: T

Chapter Summary: A month after Chat Noir learns Marinette's identity, they're just vibin'

Word Count: 4388 | Chapter 2/2

Notes: Written for @chatnoirinette through the @mlbforblm charity drive! The donations go directly to Color of Change, an organization for racial justice. I highly recommend checking them out and reblogging/donating the mlbforblm posts if you’re able! I have two fic request slots left as of 7/17/2020, and many other talented writers and artists are offering incentives as well

XXX

Marinette glanced over her shoulder for what had to have been the thirtieth time. Outside her bedroom window, stormclouds were gathering over the glittering skyline. What if the weather was too dangerous for Chat to come visit tonight? Or what if he’d gotten held up with something in his civilian life? That happened too often, though he probably spent every moment he could with her now. It was oddly comforting that he wanted to be around her so much, even if it was just keeping her company while she worked on homework, or deciphered the grimoire, or let the kwamis out for some fresh air.

Despite seeing him practically every day, she still managed to miss him.

“He’ll be here,” Tikki said from her perch on top of Marinette’s mannequin.

She sighed. “That obvious, huh?”

“You almost pinned the collar to my leg.”

Oops. As it was, the she’d bunched up the collar of Juleka’s dress all wrong. She’d have to remove the pins and smooth it out again unless she wanted the fabric to pucker in her sewing machine.

“Sorry Tikki. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

She’d survived with only seeing her partner during akuma attacks and patrols for two years now. But in these few weeks since she’d accidentally revealed her identity, she’d come to rely on him more than ever. Maybe too much, honestly. She had no idea what civilian responsibilities he was carrying on his own.

Well, she had a guess, but that was better left unsaid until she knew for sure.

You could always ask him, she thought for the thousandth time, but banished it just as quickly.

A tap at her window made her jump and prick her finger. Even startled as she was, guilty relief flooded her. Tikki was right; he’d shown up anyway.

She sucked on the sore spot as she ran to open the window. “You know Papa would let you in the front door.”

“But then I’d miss getting to see you in your natural habitat, Bugaboo.” Chat Noir grinned as he swung himself in. Luckily it hadn’t started raining yet. She didn’t want her room smelling like wet cat.

“My ‘natural habitat’ has too many pins on the floor.” She scrambled to pick them up before he ended up stepping on one. His boots would have protected his feet, but he was polite enough to remove them every time he entered, even though she’d never asked him to.

At least, she’d never asked Chat. That was one of her flimsier evidences for his identity, though.

“I like it. It’s cozy.” He plopped down on her chaise, which he’d claimed for himself weeks ago. Not that she minded. She kept that space clear for him, even when fabric and thread was piled on every other surface.

“What about your room? Is it this ‘cozy’?” She asked. It was an innocent question, not overtly fishing for information on his identity.

“Nah. I’m not allowed to… I have to keep things tidy.” He frowned.

Another piece towards her theory. She’d add that note in the conspiracy page she’d webbed out in her diary.

“Oh! I’ve got something for you!” He untied a plastic bag that he’d hung from his belt. “It, um, might be a little bit squished, but hopefully it’ll still taste good.”

Her eyes widened at the small box of cupcakes he presented to her. The frosting was pale pink, with wobbly dots of chocolate arranged to look like the spots on her yo-yo. They were a little smushed, but still in remarkably good shape for having traveled with Chat across Paris. She popped off the box’s translucent lid, giggling at the tiny pigeon stickers at each corner of it.

He winced. “They look terrible, don’t they? I know I’m not as good at baking as you, but Mr. Ramier helped so I thought they might be kind of okay—”

“They’re perfect.” She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “You didn’t have to make me anything, Kitty.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Since you’re always sharing your delicious pastries with me—”

“Maman and Papa make most of those.”

“—and because you deserve something nice, and you refuse to let me buy you anything.”

Her face warmed. Before she’d put that rule into place, he’d tried to bring her a present every time he visited. Considering he visited a lot, that would have taken a toll on his wallet.

Unless money wasn’t an issue for him, of course.

Stop that, she told herself. She could hardly deny her feelings for Chat anymore, but she couldn’t keep muddling them with feelings for her first crush. Not until she knew for sure they were one and the same.

Now if only she could stop being a coward and ask him.

“W-well thanks,” she said quickly. “You better help me eat them.”

He winked. “Can do, Princess.”

Before they dug in, she bundled her fabric away and pulled out the Miracle Box from its hiding place next to her sewing machine. It was the perfect spot, now that she’d learned how disguise it as an extra sewing box rather than that Ladybug-themed egg-thing. She’d never have been able to keep that a secret.

“Who’s coming out today?” Chat asked. He’d sprawled on the chaise with his hands propping up his chin. Tikki had nestled herself in his hair, eating half of a cupcake and scattering crumbs in his golden locks.

The kwami would probably enjoy Chat Noir’s visits more if Plagg was allowed out for her to play with. Plagg would devour all of her parents’ cheese-filled pastries, and Marinette… Marinette would have to look into her partner’s unmasked eyes and admit she was still half in love with someone else.

Unless she wasn’t. But what if she was? A few hardly-lucid dreams and wishful evidence weren’t proof that Chat Noir was actually Adrien.

She shook her head. That train of thought could do donuts in her brain if she didn’t pull the brakes.

“I was thinking Kaalki and Pollen.” She wasn’t up for any of the rowdier kwamis tonight, even with Chat helping her “babysit.” Plus the two of them liked sweets; they’d appreciate the cupcakes.

She pulled out the hair comb and glasses, and Chat Noir excitedly put them both on. The miraculouses somehow managed to make him look both dorkier and cuter at the same time. Maybe that was just because he was at his cutest when he was being a dork.

Tikki smiled wide as Kaalki and Pollen appeared in flashes of light.

“Oooh, someone glorious and famous.” Kaalki flew in circles around Chat Noir’s head, nudging a few of his tufts of hair with her hoof. “You would make a fine holder. Plagg wouldn’t be up for a trade, would he?”

Chat blushed beneath his mask, making Marinette giggle.

“Uh, sorry, but I’m going to have to say neigh to that.”

Pollen covered her laugh in her hands. Kaalki just harumphed.

“Fine. Your sense of humor is far too unpolished anyway.”

Glorious and famous. Kaalki might have been talking about his status as a hero of Paris, but Marinette still made note.

They fell into their usual routine, Chat Noir entertaining the kwamis by answering their questions about the world while Marinette went back to work. The steady conversation was a better backdrop than any white noise or instrumental music playlists. She only wished she had time to join them. Unfortunately, she’d put off this dress for too long. She only had a week before Juleka wa supposed to model the floral sundress at the school’s ameteur fashion show, and who knew how many akumas would strike between now and then?

Marinette was just getting ready to transfer the fabric from the mannequin to her sewing desk when she heard Pollen ask Chat, “How are things between you and your Princess?”

The pins slipped from her hand. She barely noticed a couple pricking into her slipper.

Chat had sat up straight since the last time she’d glanced back, and the nervous yet hopeful smile on his face threatened to melt her.

“Uh—well—how are things between us, Marinette?”

Her mouth briefly forgot how to make words. She knew what Pollen meant; Tikki and her gossiped about Marinette’s love life all the time. Maybe she shouldn’t have let the bee kwami out tonight.

“Well, um.” Her fingers twitched nervously against the fabric of her pajama pants. Say something, Marinette! “We’re—we’re best friends, right?”

She wanted to shove her fist in her mouth. How many times had she died inside over Adrien calling her just a friend? And no matter who Chat was beneath the mask, she didn't want to obscure her true feelings for him.

But his face still lit up even brighter. “I’m your best friend?”

“Of course, Kitty.” She sat on the chaise, scooting close to him. Probably closer than even a best friend should, but it wasn’t like Chat was shy about personal space. “I don’t let just anyone climb in my window, you know.”

“Awwww,” Pollen sighed while crossing her hands over her heart. Tikki gave Marinette a knowing look, which she pretended to ignore.

Then Marinette shoved a cupcake into her mouth before she could say anything more incriminating.

Chat blinked. She wondered if he was impressed—that cupcake had been about the size of her fist. Guess she could’ve fit her fist in her mouth after all, but at least the cupcake tasted better.

“Thesh ah really goo’.”

...Well, she said she wouldn’t say anything incriminating. She’d never ruled out saying anything stupid.

Chat Noir laughed. “For a Princess, your table manners could use some work.”

She swallowed about half the cupcake. It was really good, thick and chocolatey with a hint of strawberry. It probably would’ve tasted better if she’d taken the time to savor it. But the loss was worth it for the look on his face.

“No table manners allowed. Only vibes.”

He blinked before bursting out a real laugh, fuller and brighter than the one before. One that she was sounded strikingly familiar—especially with the backdrop of rain hitting the window behind them.

That truth cracked like a flash of lightning.

“You’ve been hanging out with Nino too much.” He wiped a claw under his eye, flicking away a few drops of water.

It was him. It had to be him. She’d recognize that laugh anywhere.

“Princess, what’s a ‘vibe’?” Pollen asked.

“I believe it’s like a, like a feeling,” Kaalki answered over the sound of Chat’s cackle. “Perhaps there’s a kwami of vibes? Or would that fall under Duusu’s domain?”

Marinette was too stunned from the whiplash of Adrien’s laugh and Pollen’s question to actually answer.

“Sort of,” Tikki interjected instead. “Marinette and her friends sometimes talk about vibes like they’re feelings, but they also use ‘vibing’ as an action. I’m still not really sure what that means though. Maybe we should Google it?”

When she sat on Marinette’s computer keyboard, the desktop collage of Adrien’s photos flashed on the screen. Marinette almost lunged for her kwami in horror, but Chat was still laughing too hard to notice.

“Princess—what’s a—what’s a vibe?” He got out between tears.

Then he actually doubled over far enough that he toppled off the chaise—which made Marinette laugh so hard she choked on her remaining cupcake.

Adrien was dressed in a catsuit, literally rolling on the floor laughing. That was more hilarious than even the kwamis trying to understand teenage slang.

“Marinette? Are you okay?” Tikki hovered up to her face, her blue eyes filling Marinette’s vision.

She giggled again, coughing out crumbs stuck in the back of her throat.

“I’m—I’m straight up vibing!”

With that, she too rolled off the chaise and fell on top of Chat. He yelped before giggling again, wrapping his arms around her.

“Spare vibes, Princess? Spare vibes for a poor vibeless kitty?”

“Ack!” She flailed as he tickled her sides. “Nooo, stop! You’re stealing all the vibes!”

“Were vibes in the cupcakes?” Pollen whispered to Kaalki, prompting another giggling fit from both Marinette and Chat Noir.

“Maybe it’s a secret,” Kaalki replied. “Like a code. For when the two of them want to do… whatever this is.” She waved a hoof towards where they were tangled together.

It was only then that Marinette realized what this would look like. And the fact that the floor wasn’t that thick, and her parents might hear something any minute.

Not to mention the fact that Adrien was tickling her.

“I, um, need some air!” She burst, scrambling off from his chest.

“Huh? Wait, Marinette!”

He reached out a hand, but she’d already bolted up her ladder and shoved open her skylight.

Which, of course, let rain dump right into her bed. Oops.

“What was in those cupcakes?” She mumbled, climbing onto her balcony shutting the skylight behind her.

She pressed her palms to her cheeks, trying to cool the heat there. The rain wasn’t doing a quick enough job of it, even though the spring shower chilled the rest of her to the bone. Had she flushed her last brain cell down the toilet? What was she thinking?

Of course, she was stupid with Chat Noir all the time. They’d challenged each other to handstand contests, dared each other to eat spicy peppers, even one-upped each other’s Hawkmoth impersonations. Chat might be Adrien, but that meant Adrien was still Chat. Knowing his identity didn’t change the fact that he was her ridiculous partner.

“Marinette?” A blond head poked out of the skylight. The glasses were askew on his nose; the golden hair comb had almost fallen out. “If you want me to leave, I can. You don’t need to stay out here and get soaked.”

It was a bit late for that. Even though she had ducked under the awning, the rain was blowing practically sideways. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. Why had she worn her pajama tank? Not that it mattered; Adrien had seen her in it before. She could hardly embarrass herself more than she already had.

“N-no, of course not! I just thought, we were being kind of loud, and it’s late, and since you didn’t come in through the front door…”

Chat winced as he climbed out onto the balcony to stand beside her. Just a few seconds out in the rain, and his hair was already plastered to his forehead in a wet mop. The glasses were too splattered to see through; he removed them and the bee miraculous with his free hand and put them in his pocket.

As for his other hand...

“Well, at least use this. It might work a little better than your awning.”

...He popped open the umbrella. Black and slick with rain, it brought her back to a moment two years ago. Different green eyes, but the same soft gaze.

“Of course you’d grab that one.” She couldn’t help smiling. It was the only umbrella she owned, and it had been sitting by her desk, but it still felt ironic.

She reached for the umbrella, but Chat pulled it back at the last moment.

“Wait, it’s broken, isn’t it?” He squinted up at its underside—

Just in time for it to snap shut on his head.

A laugh burst from her like a crack of thunder. “Come on, Ad—Kitty. It’s drier over here.”

He disentangled himself from the umbrella and followed her to the corner of the balcony, where the rain hadn’t quite snuck under the awning.

“Why do you have this old thing anyway? Looks like a piece of junk.” He twirled the now-closed umbrella like his baton, but fumbled it under her folding chair, where it promptly exploded open. Chat scowled. “Oh, I see how it is. When I want you to open, you only know how to stay shut. But when you’re out on your own you’re ready to party.”

The umbrella rolled slightly as it began to fill with rainwater. Marinette laughed as Chat continued to glare at it.

“Be nice to that umbrella. Someone very special gave it to me.” She stretched out her legs, letting her heels dangle in the puddles in the brick. Her fairy lights reflected in the water, casting the two of them in an ethereal glow.

“Oh, really? Should I be jealous?” He playfully wrapped an arm around her back. Every place he touched burned, even though she knew the gesture was just part of his jealous act.

She hummed as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“...Oh.” She felt him deflate, though he infused his voice with fake confidence. “Well, good. I’m a pretty territorial cat, you know.”

Gently, she tugged on the bell at his neck until he met her eyes.

“You don’t need to be jealous,” she clarified, “because I know he’s you.”

Chat Noir’s—Adrien’s—eyes widened. But then his gaze softened, and he shook his head with a smile.

“I should’ve known you’d figure me out. You’ve already done it once in your sleep.”

She blinked. “I did? And—and I’m right?”

She’d been sure, but it was still another thing to hear him admit it.

And it was yet another thing to hear “claws in.” To see green lightning crackle over over him, unmasking Adrien’s tender face.

The electricity had barely faded before she flung her arms around him.

“Woah!” He laughed before hugging her back just as tightly. “You know, I think I should be jealous. You never hugged Chat Noir like this.”

“That’s not true. I definitely hugged you tighter after we fought the Scrambler last week.”

“Huh. I guess it just doesn’t have the same effect when I’m covered in egg whites. Or maybe it’s because the suit isn’t in the way now.”

She was all too aware of that. His bare hands were warm on her back, even through her pajama shirt. Her face was tucked in the crook of his neck, where she could drink in his scent unobscured by the leather suit.

“Sniffing me again?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

She flushed at being caught. Adrien her friend from school might not have called her out for it, but Adrien her partner of two years would. Well, two could play at that game.

“Oh, like you haven’t sniffed me before. Besides, I can’t help it that you smell radiant, carefree, and dreamy.”

He looked mortified. “That commercial was over a year ago! Even Wayhem forgot about that!”

“Wayhem probably didn’t watch it two hundred and fifty-five times.”

“...I can’t tell which one of us should be more embarrassed about that.”

“Probably me,” she admitted. “What was your point again?”

“Either we both get sniffing rights, or neither of us does. That’s fair.”

She laughed, nuzzling deeper into his neck. “Fine. But I probably just smell wet.”

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in, tickling the part of her hair. “Don’t worry. You smell perfect.”

Maybe it should’ve been an awkward compliment, but he still found herself giddy over it.

“Thank you. You smell like cheese.”

“Hey!” He pouted. “What happened to ‘radiant, carefree, and dreamy’?”

“She gave you a compliment, kid. What’s more radiant than cheese?” Plagg asked.

Marinette nearly screamed. She should’ve realized he was there, but he’d blended into the shadows in the wake of Adrien’s detransformation.

“Plagg!” Adrien hissed. “Go inside with Tikki. We’re having a moment.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Plagg dismissively waved a paw. “You got any cheese in there for me, Pigtails?”

“Uh—Tikki can get you some cheese-filled pastries from downstairs. Don’t let my parents see you.”

“They’ll never know I was there. Unless they notice a plate of those delicious treats is gone.” The kwami grinned and dove through the floor.

Well, that was about all she could expect. Hopefully Tikki could keep him under control. If not, Marinette might have to fake a rat infestation.

“Sorry about him.” Adrien sighed. “He’s always like that.”

“Could’ve been worse. Imagine if you were stuck with Xuppu or Roarr as your kwami.”

He laughed. “Pretty sure my father would have grounded me for life if he saw the mess. Or he would’ve found out my identity. Probably both.”

Chat had been there the one day Marinette decided to let the monkey and tiger kwamis outside of the miracle box. She’d actually had to transform and use her Lucky Charm just to undo the damage.

“Speaking of which… I knew it was only a matter of time, but how did you learn my identity?” He asked. “If I need to be more careful…”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. I… I don’t know if I can even explain it. At first I thought it was just wishful thinking. Ever since we spent the night at Mr. Ramier’s apartment, I…”

She blushed and bit her lip. Getting caught sniffing him might have been embarrassing, but admitting this somehow felt more personal.

“What?” He asked. “Is it because I smelled the same as Chat and myself?”

“Huh? No—well, sort of? Maybe subconsciously.”

“Oh. That’s what you said while you were sleeptalking.” He shrugged.

“I guess that makes sense, since… well, I’ve been dreaming about you. Both of you.”

She took a deep breath. He was still waiting patiently, his hand softly stroking her back. If he didn’t think she was crazy yet, she guessed this wouldn’t change his mind.

“You were always the same person in my dreams. You’d switch back and forth between Adrien and Chat Noir. “Chat” would sit in front of me at school, or “Adrien” would help me bring down a scary akuma. Either way, it was always you.

“And then I couldn’t help looking for similarities when I was awake. I—I started writing down all the evidence I found. The time “Chat” almost beat me at Ultimate Mecha Strike was when I started to actually believe it. But what finally convinced for sure me was your laugh.”

She laced her fingers together in her lap to keep from fidgeting. All of it sounded weirder when she said it out loud. Almost like she’d been stalking him, sticking all of their casual interactions under a microscope.

“Wow,” he breathed, leaning back against the wall. “I’m flattered that you went through all that effort, but I don’t get it. The only reason I didn’t reveal myself sooner was because I was afraid it would put more stress on you, and you were already dealing with so much. Why didn’t you just ask me who I was?”

She stared into his eyes, watching the pastel lights reflect in them. He still didn’t know. All these secrets shared, all these weights lifted, and she still hadn’t revealed the one secret she’d wanted to confess all along.

“Because…” she licked her lips, “because I didn’t want to be wrong. If you weren’t Adrien—I didn’t want to project my old crush onto you. You deserve better than that. Though I guess it doesn’t matter now, since I wasn’t projecting after all, it is you and so I should. Just be able to say this.”

He blinked at her, but then his lips began to part in a slow smile.

“Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I’m in love with you,” she blurted before she could lose her nerve again. “First Adrien you, then Chat Noir you, then just, well, you. So—so jot that down.”

A startled laugh escaped him before he squeezed her tight again.

“Consider it jotted.” He kissed the top of her head, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if she wasn’t going to dissolve at the faintest sign of lip-on-hair contact. “And in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m in love with all of you too. So you can jot that down.”

It shouldn’t have undone her. Chat Noir had confessed his love to her countless times. Granted, all of those times had been before their battle with Miracle Queen, after which he’d obviously tried to move on.

But he still loved her. She wasn’t too late.

Maybe that relief was what pushed her to grab the collar of his shirt in both hands and press her mouth to his.

Her brain screamed, but her lips slowly figured out what to do, particularly when Adrien got over his shock and kissed her back.

Adrien. Holding her in his arms. Kissing her back.

She wasn’t sure if the sound she heard was the rain or the roaring in her ears or just her internal screaming. But it didn’t matter. For the first time, they were really, finally together, no secrets or fears between them. That truth was just as sweet as the kiss.

He finally pulled back, the front of his shirt damp where he’d been pressed against her. From the wide grin on his face, he didn’t mind.

“Will I get that kind of kiss every time I tell you I love you?”

“I don’t know.” She tapped her lips. “It might be worth finding out.”

“I love you, my La—”

She cut him off with her mouth on his.

All that time waiting, every failed attempt at confessing her feelings, slipped away like the rain off the slick balcony railing.

When the sky finally cleared, she woke to them tangled together, slumped against that same railing. She had a crick in her neck, and she’d probably end up with a cold from sleeping in her wet clothes. But it still felt worth it to look up into Adrien’s blissful face. Somehow she’d woken up before him—probably because her clothes had been more uncomfortable, since his were dry where his suit had covered them.

“Are you going to give me any juicy secrets in your sleep?” She asked before kissing the side of his jaw.

His only response was to hum and hug her.

“I guess that’s a no.” She chuckled. “No fair. I shouldn’t be the only one embarrassing myself in this relationship.”

Relationship. She could’ve exploded into confetti just thinking about it.

“Mmm… love you… m’lady.”

Her breath caught at his slurred voice.

“...Well I guess I can’t complain about that.”

She rested her head back on his chest, and let the dripping remnants of rain from the gutters lull her back to sleep.

#tali writes #miraculous ladybug #marichat #mlbforblm #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #reveal #fic tag

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

Text

Bullseye

Rating: T

Summary: Nino's invited his friends for a nice night of darts with him and his father. Nothing could possibly go wrong...right?

Slot: 1-2.5k fic

Written for an anonymous donator for the @mlbforblm drive as a pool request! The donations go directly to Color of Change, an organisation for racial justice, and don’t pass through our hands at all. I’ve still got slots open, so come and commission me or another of the amazing contributors!

AO3 link

“I can’t believe you guys agreed to this,” Nino says as he follows his father Mehdi into the small building, Alya’s fingers linked with his. Marinette and Adrien trail behind, murmuring to each other about something to do with roofs and picnics, but Nino doesn’t pay them much mind because short of being secret superheroes, there’s not much they can do about a rooftop picnic. Hmm. Maybe he should ask Ladybug for their Miraculouses and take Alya on a rooftop picnic one night. Alya’s always loved leaping and sprinting through the city, with the wind streaming through her bushy brown ponytail, and his stomach flutters at the memory of Rena Rouge’s impish grin during their flirtatious banter, while Chat Noir turns his charms on Ladybug, and she facepalms –

“Like we were gonna leave you to deal with this by yourself,” Alya’s saying when Nino finally manages to drag himself back down to earth. “You’ve helped me babysit the little demons so many times. What’s one night of darts?”

“Trust me, dude, after this, you’ll be begging for a whole week with E-squared,” Nino says. Alya rolls her eyes at his nickname for her sisters, but her mouth twitches so he figures he’s not in too much trouble. “He reckons he’s the next Phil Taylor.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” Adrien pipes up.

“Do you wanna know how many times he doesn’t hit the dart board? And then says that he’s just waiting for his lucky break?”

“…Oh.”

The pub is small and brightly lit without being overwhelming, giving it a nice, cosy air that always leaves Nino in a good mood even with his father acting like he’s two seconds away from representing France in the Olympics. The bartender waves at them as they head for the little party of fellow darts club members near the darts board, weaving between tables – or, in Marinette’s case, being piggybacked by Adrien as though they’re in a minefield, so that she doesn’t trip and cause a minor earthquake with her clumsiness. Though Marinette’s scowling rather grumpily, Nino’s certain that she’s not actually mad at being carried; not when it’s Adrien who’s carrying her, without treating her like a fragile porcelain doll.

“Nino!” Beefy Henri grins and holds out a fist for Nino to bump. “Brought some fresh meat, eh?”

“Yeah.” Nino laughs and scratches the back of his head with his free hand. “This is my girl, Alya. And the two behind us are Adrien and Marinette.”

“We wanted to see the next Phil Taylor for ourselves,” Alya says, nudging Nino. Henri eyes Mehdi, who’s chatting up a storm with the other club members, and snorts.

“You’ll be waiting a while then, girlie,” he says. Alya smirks.

“Good thing I plan on sticking around for a while, then.”

Oh. Nino’s stomach flutters at the implication of Alya’s words. God, how he loves this girl.

“Darts!” Mehdi holds up a dart and turns to face the teens. “How about we give the guests of honour first go?”

“Um, I think I’ll just watch,” Marinette says with a nervous laugh. Mehdi shakes his head.

“Nonsense!”

“But I’m –”

“Come on and let the master show you!”

Marinette shoots a wide-eyed look at Nino, then gulps and approaches Mehdi, while Adrien sidles over to stand with Nino, Alya, and Henri near the board. Nino instinctively takes a step away. He loves Marinette, he really does, but there’s no way he’s going to entrust her with his safety when she’s got a sharp object in her hands.

“Remember that it’s all in the movement,” Mehdi says. “Feet apart!”

Marinette visibly resigns herself to her fate and spreads her feet. Mehdi pauses with his hands just above her shoulders until she nods, then guides her so that she’s side-on from the dartboard with her right foot forward.

“Now, make sure you’re holding the barrel.”

“The what?”

In response, Mehdi positions Marinette’s fingers around the barrel of the dart, then lifts her right arm so that her forearm is at a square angle to her face.

“Don’t hold it too tight,” Mehdi says. “Just take aim…and shoot!”

Right before Marinette releases the dart, a feeling of cold foreboding washes over Nino; the kind of foreboding that one gets when their life is about to flash before their eyes. He jumps back behind Henri and pulls Alya with him, leaving poor Adrien as the unsuspecting sacrifice who’s grinning and cheering Marinette on as she squares her shoulders and then throws with determination.

THOCK.

Alya’s hands fly up to cover her mouth, muffling her choked gasp, while Nino’s eyes bulge out of his head. Every other person in the room is deathly silent. Hell, a white-faced Marinette doesn’t even look like she’s breathing.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Oh my god!”

“What?” says Adrien, while everyone else stares at him. Nino’s about two seconds from asking if there’s a Unicorn Miraculous, because if he had to think of a piece of magic jewellery for Adrien right now, that’d be his pick.

“You’ve –” Nino numbly gestures to his own head. “You’ve got –”

Adrien just blinks and frowns. How he can’t feel the dart that’s sticking out of his forehead, Nino has no bloody clue. Alya, meanwhile, is shaking as though she can’t decide whether to laugh or freak out. Probably the latter, considering that she hasn’t even pulled out her phone to snap pictures.

“Um,” Mehdi says. “This isn’t what I –”

“Oh my god, it’s in your forehead!” Marinette shrieks. Adrien blinks again and reaches up to fumble for the dart sticking out of the skin of his brow.

“Huh,” he says. “So it is.”

That seems to be Alya’s breaking point; she bursts into hysterical laughter and doubles over, clutching at one of the tables for support. Nino’s unsure whether he’ll ever feel anything again other than the dumbstruck numbness currently settling on him, while Marinette’s face is turning a nice shade of green à la Carapace’s suit.

“Dude,” Nino says. “How the hell are you fine?”

Adrien shrugs. “I can’t even feel it, to be honest. I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, I bet you have!” Marinette shrieks at him. She storms over and jabs a finger at his chest. “I’m sure one measly dart is nothing to you!”

Adrien grins in an uncanny imitation of Chat Noir’s smirk. “Hey, if you wanted to prick me, all you had to do was –”

Marinette yanks the dart out of Adrien’s head and then tugs him clean over her shoulder. “Sorry to cut this short,” she says to Nino, suddenly dead calm except for the way her right eye is twitching. “Adrien and I have some things to discuss. I’m sorry for ruining your night, Mr Lahiffe.”

Alya collapses to the ground as her laughter redoubles.

“Ruined?” Mehdi says, grinning despite the dark skin beneath his beard still holding an ashen hue. Now that they’re sure Adrien’s okay, the atmosphere of the group is lightening to one of mirth rather than horror. “I hardly think you ruined it. That’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in, well…I don’t remember.”

“Mehdi really is the next Phil Taylor compared to this young lady,” says another club member – Adeline – and then the room is full of explosive laughter. Adrien just looks back over Marinette’s shoulder and grins and salutes, and Nino almost chokes on his own saliva trying not to laugh, because Marinette will skin him alive if he encourages her boyfriend’s idiocy.

“Looks like Adrien and I are going to bounce,” Marinette says almost serenely. “Sorry to ditch you and Alya.”

“I don’t think Alya really cares at the moment, dude,” Nino says, eyeing his hysterical girlfriend. “Just, uh, make sure my bro’s still in one piece?”

Marinette smiles. “Oh, of course. Have a good night, Nino.” Then she’s deftly navigating through the maze of bar tables with Adrien still over her shoulder, smirking back at Nino, like she hadn’t been the one carried on Adrien’s back on the way in to avoid a disaster. It’s like she’s got an alter-ego who’s taken over right now, to be honest.

“Man, I need a drink,” Nino mumbles, wishing that he wasn’t still two years below the age limit. Between this and his moonlighting as a human turtle every now and then with his furry fox girlfriend, there’s probably not much more that life could throw at him from here on. But he’s got no doubt that it’ll try its best.

#miraculous ladybug #aotq fic #mlbforblm #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #djwifi #adrinette #humor #adrien is an idiot #but we love him for it #clumsy marinette strikes again #nino is a lovestruck dumdum

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3pirouette · 4 years

Text

Fic: Dissents Speak (5/?)

I still owe @womenarethesequel a prompt for this ‘verse. This ain’t it. This was inspired by the shit show I saw last night.

This is yet another part of my politically inspired Steggy Fic. The first 4 parts can be found here

Please remember this is POLITICALLY BASED and very much not in favor of the current US president or administration. Once again, if you support that racist piece of shit, kindly fuck off my page.

Thank you to @nothingeverlost for the original prompt that started it all.

(I’m exhausted but had to write this tonight and I felt like sharing this would be...helpful?...cathartic? at least for me, if not for some of you. Stay positive, stay strong)

~*~

Steve popped his head into the main room where Tony, Natasha, and Clint were lounging. “Where are you guys watching the debate tonight?”

Tony shrugged. “I just assumed we’d all be in here, have Jarvis throw up a projection we could toss popcorn through.”

Natasha smiled, hoping up an iPad. “I’m already halfway through making a drinking game.”

“I’m not watching,” Clint mumbled, looking up from his book, “I can’t stand to listen to either of them talk. I’ll read the fact check tomorrow.”

Steve nodded. “Ok, well, I’ll be in the living room on 35, then.”

Tony looked affronted. “But I said there’d be popcorn.”

Steve tried to keep a straight face.“Peggy’s coming over to live tweet the debate.”

“Wow, Rogers,” Natasha looked up at him. “That’s the worst version of Netflix and Chill I’ve ever heard.”

“Is that what kids are calling it nowadays? ‘Watch the debate’?” Clint laughed.

“No,” Tony smirked, “I think it’s the ‘live tweeting’ part. Right? Tell me I’m right.”

Steve just turned around and walked out.

~*~

They used the pre-debate to get comfortable with one another, to amass drinks and snacks, and even a copy of Natasha’s debate drinking game. They were on either side of a large couch, facing the LED screen, nervously chatting.

Steve had to admit, even though he knew they’d both enjoy this, it was likely not a good first official date. Or Second. Or whatever the hell was going on between them. By the time the two candidates had taken the floor Steve was glad for the distraction as he had little left to say and was starting to feel awkward.

~*~

Peggy sat tall, hands on her forehead. “He didn’t just say that, did he?”

He nodded, fingers flying on his phone. “Yup, he did.”

~*~ “Will you shut up, man?”

Steve and Peggy look at the television, jaws on the floor. “I can’t believe he said that,” Steve said, flabbergasted.

Peggy smiled, proud. “I can’t believe he said that!”

~*~

Steve was scrolling through his feed as the moderator had to talk both candidates down yet again. “Oh, Peg, I like that infographic!”

She smiled and shrugged, slipping her legs under her and consequently moving just a little closer to him. “He’s made those claims about the economy again and again and it’s been fact checked to death. I’ve had that saved on my phone for months.”

~*~

“You’re the worst president the country has ever had.”

Steve sat up straight, both feet on the floor. “Oh my god.”

“Holy shit.” Peggy shifted next to him, elbows on her knees as she waited for the reaction on screen.

Steve turned to her, noticing she was much closer than he realized and he had no problem with it. “He just said it. Out loud.”

Peggy smiled back. “I mean, I think it every day, but…”

~*~

Steve leaned back against the couch, Peggy snuggled in the crook of his arm. He was typing with one hand while she was using both of hers to post. “Racial sensitivity training… how in the world…” Peggy muttered.

“Easy. It’s insensitive if it’s telling you you’ve been wrong your whole life and you don’t want to hear it. Like white supremacists. If you’re a white supremacist, racial sensitivity training is racist towards you. It’s messed up, but there it is.”

Peggy looked up at him, waiting until he found her eyes. “If I haven’t mentioned it lately, I very much enjoy how open you are about punching Nazis and White supremacists.”

He smiled blindingly at her, only to be drawn back to the television seconds later by the escalating bickering.

~*~

“Hmm,” Peggy squirmed from her spot tucked against his side, catching his attention as she faced him. “Speaking of mail in ballots- what are you doing election day?”

Steve shrugged, “Don’t know yet. Why?”

“A few friends and I are going to be poll workers. Do you want to join?” She smiled shyly, her question a little timid.

“I’d, uh, usually say yes,” he tried to split his attention between her and the drivel about ‘Forrest cities’ on the television, “but Tony seems to think we’ll be needed to help police polling stations and ballot drop off boxes.

She nodded. “Yeah, makes sense.”

He thought she sounded slightly dejected as she leaned back into the couch, inches away from him now, and scrolling through her feed on her phone.

Steve cleared his throat. “We could, maybe, get dinner, after the day’s over, though.” His eyebrows knit together, concerned that his mouth was moving faster than his brain. “A really late dinner. Dessert, maybe?”

She turned her head, smiling and licking her lips. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

~*~

“Stand back and stand by.”

Peggy kneeled on the couch, her phone forgotten in her hands. “Oh no.”

“Oh my god.” Steve let his hands run over his face.

“He didn’t.” Peggy looked at Steve. “I mean, he can’t have meant…”

Steve looked at her, as serious as he’d ever been. “He did.”

Peggy slumped back into the couch, wrapping her hands around her knees. “How… how did we get here?”

“I don’t know,” Steve mumbled, “But the President of the United States just told a White Supremacy group to be ready for his orders on live television.”

“We’re fucked.”

~*~

They both sat, feet on the floor, close enough to touch but not touching.

Steve was scrolling through his feed, quiet as the commentators took over as the candidates exited the stage.

Peggy tossed her phone on the table in front of them, the popcorn still there and Natasha’s drinking game abandoned long ago. “I mean, I know. I’m a woman. Old white men interrupt me every day, but that this… THIS… is the epitome? These two men are our best hope? God, that’s depressing.”

“They’re already using ‘stand down and stand by’ as a slogan.” Steve sighed, tossing his phone next to hers.

Peggy turned sideways and looked at him. “You’re going to have an awful lot of punching to do.”

“You only like me ‘cause I punch Nazis,” he muttered, turning with a half smile.

Peggy tried to laugh but it didn’t come out. “I do not.” She reached out, letting a finger run over the back of his hand. “It is an alluring trait, but certainly not the only one I enjoy.”

He let his hand flip over and laced his fingers with hers. “Good,” he whispered, looking towards the tv to hide his blush.

After a minute of listening to the commentators, she sighed heavily. “I feel so depressed, you know?”

He turned, looking at her. “Tell me.”

“Just- just all of it. It’s all so broken,” he squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. “I know I made a pot shot at both of them, but if he wins a second term… what does the world look like?” She took a deep breath. “And what does it look like if he doesn’t win? He’s spoiling for a fight, normalizing it now with his rhetoric. What happens when he says ‘fight’ instead of ‘stand by’?” Peggy curled into a small ball, wrapping her free arm around her legs. “You literally watched all this happen before. Tell me, what happens when bad men are in power?”

He couldn’t help feel his heart constrict at the way she looked at him, her chin resting on her knees and her eyes wide with fear and concern. Without thinking he slid over and wrapped her in his arms. “The good people fight.” He felt her wrap herself around him and could slowly feel some of the tension start to release from her body. “Good people fight for what’s right. That’s a universal truth. And more than anything this year we’ve seen good people stand up for what’s right.”

She nodded into him. After a moment she whispered, “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”

~*~

Tony looked up at the ceiling, ignoring the mess of popcorn on the floor in front of him. “Jarvis, how are Cap and his lady love?”

“Captain Rogers has asked I do not monitor or interrupt them tonight.”

“Fine,” he muttered, “Grabbing Natasha’s hand and hauling her up with him. “We’re just going to have to check on them the old fashioned way. Kick her out. It’s past curfew.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “You’re gonna kick her out?”

Tony laughed as they made their way around the trash and to the elevator. “God, no. I just want to be able to hold this over his head for years to come.”

Natasha, more than slightly drunk, wobbled as the elevator moved. “I think he really likes her, though.”

“Me too,” Tony agreed, stepping off the elevator and pulling Natasha with him. “But then I’ll at least have something to talk about in the best man speech.”

He held his finger dramatically to his lips as they approached the open concept living room. Natasha followed behind, rolling her eyes at Tony’s antics. They had to move nearly on top of the couch to see them: Steve and Peggy, sleeping, wrapped in one another’s arms.

Without so much as a word, Tony turned and left, Nat following suit. They were waiting for the elevator when he finally spoke. “Well, at least one good thing came out that debate.”

Steve’s voice drifted over from the couch. “Get out, Tony.”

#No tags because of reasons

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winter-chill · 4 years

Text

RWBY 7 - 3 “Ace Operatives” Thoughts

So thoughts...

BOO!!! they didn't work on stuff themselves.. although if it was Pietro and not just random scientists, I'll let it go :) And i'l give him props for using the Amity fights footage (i'll talk more on weapons later)

Oh, dust mines, launch site... ghiest, oh that's gonna bring back some memories

God Nora being so giddy about her stuff puts a smile on my face

and the Blake/Yang nod, the first of so many bumbleby touches this ep

They're really trying to hit hard again with Jaune and that sash, though it was a good set up for his hair cut (since I wouldn't really think of cutting it now when he's in a cold climate ideal)

Another very slight, but nice detail about having Yang be actually armless, not just fixing it while it's on her. We need more points like this, or maybe i just like the idea of it, but having those details shown off and not forgotten is nice. Also that's a beefy arm, though I swear it looks larger in the intro?

Again, having Blake have an onscreen notice of her hair leads well into why it's cut (though not showing it on screen? nor how/why her weapon's fix being gold... missed opportunity , truly)

WAIT??? Ruby got a NEW cloak? BOO, I would have thought her current one was still the original, has she been swapping it with each outfit? but, all the cuts and tears, the detail and history from her past fights, lost :(

I'll talk about the Oscar scene when it shows up, not here

Again, lovely intro to their new looks, but... could have been more. Showing them actually zip things up, buckle them in, cutting their hair themselves. Just lots of little details that would have added so much

I'll say it again, I think Yang's new glasses look weird.. too anime for the actual show style, but, I guess they 'work' ?

Also they all look to Ruby, this is her mission, her shot to call, she's back with her team (just rwby) for the first time so it's good to see them keeping the team dynamic, she was leader for a reason.

OH THIS SONG IS A BANGER!!!! also, totally a Weiss song (it said mirror)

Bunny hopping Ruby :D adorable

SUMMON SWORD SURFING!!! Finally

Blake really making the use of that ribbon, a little detail they again seem to forget about during most of 4-6 until it's necessary (running from adam in V6)

And... yep, no nonsense Yang sticking with the classics, recoil (( I take it back, Yang's arm is the same as the intro, though I still think it somehow got bigger than when she put it on ))

And end it all on an amazing pose shot

Okay Ace ops time. Harriet, let me see what that little backpack thing do. But for serious, rolling only stops you from getting hurt on small drops, not several hundred foot... Marrow though taking a similar root to Ruby, seeming to ride it down, but he's doing some troll physics there, "stand on chair, jump off building, jump off chair at last moment, you only actually fell 2 foot"

Also, boomerang, gun? Honestly I kind of dislike the generic gun looking form, would have been cooler if it didn't change, but just had a little barrel pop out an end when he needed to shoot.

And now JN- OMG ELM YES, Loving the attitude. Oh Vine what's that on your back? you wielding an expanding throwing star (three pronged)

erm, right... JN_R

so, we got, some sick new looks, Ren's ponytail especially. Jaune's hair (i was one to hate it at first) in motion looks great, the concept art didn't do it justice. Also holding his sword on his arm..... kind of reminds me of @kumafromtaiwan's design for Jaune

"okay Jaune, you got this, it's not gonna be like Beacon all over again"

Oh, is he gonna use his shield like a plow, smashing through rocks, or maybe as a wing and glide do............................

DID JAUNE JUST FORTNITE PARACHUTE SHIELD HIS ASS TO THE GROUND?

Moving on though, yep, Hard light dust was a genius move he would have stuck in his head from Argus, and opens up the question of adding (what i'm dubbing) Shield Shield, with his V4 Nuckelavee Sword Sword, to make hard light blades.... SWORD SWORD SWORD???

a quick little peak at his shield, the emblem lighting up as he shoots a blast to bounce him from hitting the floor, that better be used later too.

And another amazing pose shot!

Oh Elm, you really need to work on your social skills. Actually maybe all the Ace ops do?

POUTY NORA!!!

and, good luck bad luck duo for the final team, this'll be fun.

NEW SCROLLS! Love them, slim and cool, and with new team icons (c'mon girls, smile for your picture)

and that detail on how Ruby zoomed, Weiss had to summon, and Yang had some energy stored up, so their aura is down a bit, but Blake is 100%

THE EARS, THEY SENSE BEES

Oh Yang, adorable goof

Oh Blake, also an dorable goof!!!

And Marrow is indeed the baby of the squad, you said it well Harriet, if a tad harsh?

Weiss no, this is a bad place for your name, but you're here to make it a better one, to fix that remember!!

Has.. has no one taught Ruby to project her aura to keep her warm, or at the others just dealing with it better? Either way, same Ruby, i hate the cold

Okay, yes, Oscar chat time

I don't know what to say, I agreed with it the whole time. Atlas is in a mess, there are good and bad times to tell people, and it's nice that Ruby has her intentions, but this may have been the same path Ozma first took, hiding things "for now" but never finding a chance to tell the truth later... they just need to keep it in mind.

And Oscar, please look after the Relic, I can already see red flags over your head the moment you took it, be that from Ironwood doing shady shit, Watts/Tyrian stealing it, or Ozpin popping back up to use it's last question.

OH, Clover, hitting a man hard with that, bringing up STRQ :/ all those fanfics of Qrow ('s semblance) being behind Summer's death, they all feel more realistic

I almost forgot, Qrow's looking snazzy too, those cross buttons, the eye/feather emblem embroidery in the sleeves. No... no necklace though?

Oh god Qrow's getting shipped with everyone this volume it seems. Good catch Clover.... I MEAN LITERAL CATCH

Halfick? Halphr... what did he say? Don't bullshit me captions, that wasn't alpha

REN!!! PAY YOUR GIRLFRIEND SOME ATTENTION!!!!!!!!!!!! Jaune you dork, nice try?

Another great Bee moment, Yang too can sense a disturbance in the force.

Weiss this is great, but can you keep your emotional daddy issues and the racial discrimination of a whole people a little more separate. But it's nice to again see you trying to make some amends and distance yourself from being.. well, 'Jacques' and his actions

OOF, Marrow coming in, hitting hard, and then acting like he's.... a millennial "I'm just a teen who does research, what do I know, boomer"

this scene though. Issues and history of faunus oppression, followed by a Schnee apolagy, and a faunus using her traits to help fix the past for a new future... that's some symbolism

Oh, a jump scare, good thing about Blake's semblance there too

HARRIET YES!!!! BIG FISTS, JUST WHAT I WANTED!!! PUNCH THAT ROCK

And RW_Y right behind already running before the rumbles settled to help their girl

I LOVE THE GRIMM IN ATLAS. don't get me wrong, Deathstalkers are still top tier, but these things are awesome too

and now we get to upgrades!

Nice, so Yang has some trigger-able explosives, so she doesn't have to rely on her semblance to protect her when she's using his shotgun blasts

A subtle little thing there, Weiss being able to shoot an icle, not doing so from a glyph, but from the gun part of

Myrtenaster directly

Okay yes, this bugged me for so long. A scythe is a big weapon, the weight is in the blade as much as it is the handle, so having to turn it around all the time would be unwieldy and difficult in combat, so just a tiny upgrade like this is both smart, and amazing for Ruby to have realised she needed

Although I still don't get how shotting a bullet down the barrel, can give her swings an initial boost of speed........

Marrow really out here flying though the sky like he's on a zipline? though the buzz saw boomerang is, again, brilliant

Oh................ So the boy who cried wolf, can pause time? I erm- actually hold on, I need to figure out how that's logical......

I'm just gonna guess it's more "Harriet is moving so fast, he did this for dramatic affect XD

JN_R once again, taking a moment, a little nervous but willing and--- now they're very much not nervous, doing their thing, never first to run in, but never first to run away either.

Also, Vine has a stetchy arm semblance, and Elm has rooting feet semblance. Ye they make a good team (i ship them)

THERE'S THAT PURPLE SHIELD BLAST

And finally StormFlower is getting some love. I don't think they look different, but having those blades be used in more various ways... grapples were a great idea

and again, Nora using that spiked back of Magnahild for more than a place to stand when she launches herself, loving it!!!

Oh Jaune, being nervous dorky, Nora a little ashamed? or ready to be.. and Ren, quiet as ever (i think he's kind of looking up to Vine honestly) don't worry though, you kids did good

OH Harriet... you don't wanna be left out of the action do you :) RUBY YOU DORK! And that little back+forth was actually hilarious

Hmm, I was always wondering how a fishing rod could be a weapon.. i guess pulling a grimm in works, but what was your plan then, to punch the Ghiest?

OH MY GOD THAT ANIMATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

again, what are you doing Clover? At least Qrow knows his semblance, acting all "i'm gonna look around, things could easily go wrong here"

Good luck bad luck eh? OH MY GOD Qrow don't make that face, the people are gonna ship you two even harder now!!!

And the hammer duo charging in first... ye Elm/Vine is just Atlas' Renora, and I love that dynamic

oh, weird dust draft from Ren stopping, sweat boiling on the rocks... this room is gonna be interesting, mess things up a bit? fluxuating gravity, hot and cold spots maybe??? Ah yes, dust energy... makes sense

And Marrow in the background while we hear him on the coms, just a great little look at how Vine seems to be "distant" from the moment, doing the whole, Ren style of vague-speak

Ye it is kinda empt-- oh. Also good work having not just the face move, but the whole midsection being rotated... kind of as if, the face is stuck to that one position... COINCIDENCE?

Erm, does this one seem bigger than the V4 Ghiest?

And now we see Ruby trying to act as leader, pause to think, to come up with a plan, where as the Ace (while more experienced) seem to have both a plan on how to take it out, and might also be a little to reliant on Clover, knowing his semblance will fix any little issues

Oh that trumpet, a very self-knowing victorious tune.

And again, Vine and Elm doing a whole of semblance work, shame we don't see them use their weapons a bit more here, same with Marrow though not using his semblance (whatever it is) at all.

HEY WAIT. those black parts weren't there earlier, nor did they appear on the V4 Grimm until it needed them to pull toge- oh... they stretched the limbs to force both a space to cut them, and for the grimm parts to sort of 'be revealed'

And another eye colour semblance indication. Loving the runners pose Harriet does too. She's not time-pausing fast... (I take back what I said about Marrow's semblance earlier?) but things do act slower, even while she's running quicker than we'd see as normal in that moment. It's not time-pausing, but it's very very fast. And the motion blur trail!!, just a tiny effect, but it adds so much detail

Marrow really is the child of the squad, he's the one to make a mistake, but again- kind of had to rely on Clover there.. Interesting to see how things pan out when he's inevitably killed, or trapped, or just isn't there

Little details here and there. Vine using his semblance not just to grab, but to push the grimm back. Harriet taunting it to get it's attention and then getting out before it can hit her (but late enough that it keeps it's attention on her and really slams it's fist down). Elm again sticking to her name, rooting that fist down, being basically an anchor in all her actions. And Marrow... throwing his boomerang

UGH.. that little medallion touch pisses me off somehow, it's so pretentious? but anyway, he had a good idea, pulling it out by it's mask, kinda really relying on his semblance to get between it and the ice chunk without bouncing off anything. Again, very semblance reliant group

Erm... she punched the grimm.. but i wouldn't say it's dead.. are we gonna ignore that??? IT'S GONNA RETURN LATER I CAN PROMISE YOU THAT

Vine again grabbing dust, would have loved to have seen Elm basically kick one to stick it to her feet instead of just catching (or pinning herself to a wall to catch it, as if it was too high to jump and catch)

And Harriet going in for the catch, only for....oh.. that's the first thing RWBY or JNR did this fight? (also no weird dust affects, i feel upset)

But ohhh, her semblance isn't speed. I had this same issue in last volume, that her semblance early on was supposed to be speed, and yet she uses it to fly, to separate into several for moments, and she can 'merge' with others to carry then, when like for Nora in V4 her reaction speed should have been way too slow to really be ready for when she was basically thrown at the previous ghiest

AY yep, I'm shocked if Ruby has control over her eyes, she never tried to flash them off during this whole scene... but again, after Maria's story, hiding them from people we don't fully trust is better

And another little bee moment, Yang flirting with them puns

Omg! Elm carrying Ruby, Yang and Nora dancing, love this group dynamic

Hey, it's that guy from last episode, why are we... Robyn?

huh, kinda spooky... flickering lights... Robyn, watts, or...

TYRIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! why are you not wearing your coat, it's cold remember! but that entrance, reminds me again of that "Cheshire cat inspiration" people first thought of back in his V4 reveal

HIS EYES!!! So whatever he does that triggers them is still apparent, and his stinger either still uses his own venom, or it's semblance related

And that line. He's here to mix things up... either he's finally gonna kill someone and let the police find out (unlike last ep when his victim was in a building, it'll take time till that's discovered... oh wait, blood) or he's here for info maybe?

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