#this is day one of my pride series!! i’m doing a design a day (hopefully) based on vintage queer pins

[dirt-ghoul]

don’t die wondering! (1/30)

#this is day one of my pride series!! i’m doing a design a day (hopefully) based on vintage queer pins #pride #queer art #queer artist #my art #graphic design #design

[drawingdroid]

Melting Point: Chapter I

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue

Chapter I: The Artist/Metallike

Summary: Your roommate drags you to an art opening and It'll turn out to be such an interesting night that will leave you dreaming of brown eyes.

Words: 1721

Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff

A/N: Hi! I'm sorry for taking forever to upload this after so much teasing! Everything was practically written until Chapter 4, but last month has been a disaster. Hopefully, I'll be able to be back at it now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Reader and Din meeting with a very Pride and Prejudice vibe.

When you arrived, the place was cramped. Everyone fancied free drinks on a Friday night at Navarro’s downtown, but this was… excessive for an art opening. After the awful day you’d had, you didn’t feel like squeezing yourself between strangers. You were just about to say to your roommate that you had thought better about it when you saw the poster in the window display of the local.

The Guild Gallery presents:

Mando

The Master of Beskar

15 unprecedented sculptures

Your jaw dropped immediately to the floor. You were so excited you had to grab your roommate’s arm to calm down.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” 

“You just dragged me to an exhibition of my favourite artist ever without knowing?” You were over the moon right now, Mando wasn’t an artist who used social media so it was never easy to come up with his next show. It was all part of the mysterious aura that was around him.

“Rumors say he is based in Nevarro.” One of your roommate’s friends severed, and your eyes sparkled in awestruck.

“Do you think he may come?” You were dying to ask him some questions, maybe even you could arrange an interview with him for your thesis work…

“He never shows up in his own exhibits, so I don’t think he will.” You were a bit disappointed, but it was the truth. No one knew his real name or face, only the generic pseudonym, and his breathtaking sculptures.

“Do you think he makes it in an entitled prick way? Like, to feed the mystery or something and sell more?” You looked at the boy furiously. You obviously didn’t know Mando personally, but you had extensively studied his artwork and could affirm you knew a bit about the psyche that hid behind his artwork.

“What if he’s just shy, or he doesn’t like the attention?” Your mental picture of Mando was the one of a person who struggled severely with emotion and used his sculpture as the only possible outcome. That was one of the reasons why his art moved you so deeply.

Your interlocutor didn’t have the opportunity to respond since it was your turn to enter the gallery. It was luxurious but not tacky, with a minimal interior design that gave the artwork the space to shine. You were mesmerized. Soon you grew apart from the group because they were more interested in the free booze while you admired each one of the pieces. Grabbing your tiny notebook from your purse, you annotated everything about the sculptures that resonated de most with you.

“Breathtaking, aren’t they?” A well-dressed, middle-aged man was standing next to you. He had an air of dignity in him, but also a pinch of mischief in his eyes that delatated his true character. 

“They’re stunning.” You mumbled admiring the hard planes of the sculpture that was standing right in front of you. The same you had been observing for twenty minutes straight: a faceless warrior in a startling fighting pose.

“Mando always finds a way to surprise us.” Then, he extended his hand to you and you squeezed it gently. “Greef Karga, I’m the owner.” He clarified while shaking vigorously your smaller hand. You blushed violently, maybe he had mistaken your interest for being a potential customer? Nevertheless, you offered him a smile and your name too, always wanting to be polite.

“I’m actually a researcher on Mandalorian art, and I’ve been following Mando’s career for a while.” 

“You’re talking to the man who sold his first artwork, sunshine.” He confessed as if he was telling you a secret. The desired effect was accomplished and your eyes were opened wide.

“Really? That’s…that’s…” Your words were betraying you and the man only smiled wider. Then you started a battle with your purse to find the wallet. “I…know he does like to keep his…privacy, but if he is ever interested in an interview I’ll…it will be really meaningful to my research.” You blurted giving him your business card. He observed it and repeated your name to himself.

“I’ll let him know darling.” He then put a friendly hand on your shoulder as a farewell when something heavy touched your foot, making you flinch. You looked to the floor: a metal ball had hit your foot. Looking confused at your surroundings, you crouched to grab the round object when its owner appeared.

“Oh hi, baby!” You cooed, your face brightening when your eyes found the tiny face of a toddler. “Is this yours?” They approached you a bit shyly, looking at you and the ball, as if weighing their options. The baby stared at you, blinking a few times, until they bent clumsily to grab it.

“Patu!” The little one said showing triumphantly the shiny object. The corner of your eyes squinted of the pure tenderness this creature provoked in you.

“Grogu, my little man!” Karaga called, to your surprise. You had to admit: you had forgotten about him for a little moment, but it was great that they knew each other. The toddler squeaked in delight, running to the man’s leg. He certainly looked amused with the encounter, so they were probably close-

“Ah!” The boy babbled cheerfully to you both, showing off his treasure again, and then started patting Karga’s leg.

“Your dad hasn’t got you dinner? Come here, let me grab you a sandwich.” The toddler sounded excited and made grabby hands to the older man to be picked up. Your eyes met with his as he observed you with curiosity. They were dark and huge, almost too big for the kid’s face. You gave him your brightest smile and he did the same in return.

“He looks sharp as a tack!” You praised, giggling a bit.

“You wouldn’t imagine.” 

Both of you laughed together as Grogu started to explain something in incoherent baby language.

“Oh, so you are enjoying the Art Exhibition too? What’s your favourite piece? I see…” You pretended to understand his excited gestures as Karga started to walk to the catering table. “It’s clear you’re such a connoisseur, sir.”

“Could you hold him a moment? I’m making him a sandwich.” Karga’s question took you off-guard, but he didn’t wait for an answer as he placed the toddler in your chest Both of you studied each other's eyes for a moment. You could count the times you had held a little one with the fingers of a hand. But finally, he looked satisfied after scanning your face and squeaked happily, starting playing with your hair and jewellery, even mapping your cheeks and nose with his tiny hands. A warm feeling ignited inside your chest as you replied sweet nothings to his babbling.

“Grogu! Here you are!”

The three of you looked in the direction of the baritone voice who had just called the baby. Between the multitude, appeared a man who stood up amongst everyone. Though he was dressing casually, in full denim, his handsome face and broadness were so obvious. Your mouth went dry. Not only his physical appearance but his gait and the way he carried himself. You weren’t used to meeting men like that. He was borderline intimidating. His scowl while looking at the baby didn’t help with that. Was he angry that a stranger held the boy?

“Din! Good to see you, I thought your son would be hungry.” The gorgeous man huffed in response, looking at the sandwich Greef Karga had just prepared.

“The little womp-rat is always hungry,” he mumbled and started caressing the boy’s head, and the baby giggled. “I asked you to stay there.” He scolded, but the toddler just looked happy to see him again. Din sighed in resignation and finally, it looked like he noticed your presence for the first time. While you still had Grogu between your arms, he stared at you without a word, like you were a sculpture and not a person. You observed him back without shame and he tilted his head slightly while studying you. He looked stiff as a board and didn’t stop frowning all the time.

Weird.

Luckily, Karga spoke after the strange silence between you became too tense.

“Din, this is…” Karga started introducing you after clearing his throat,  but then the little boy interrupted by babbling at you while offering you his ball.

“You want to play baby?” You asked, but you could see his handsome dad pinch his nose. It wasn’t the moment to annoy this stranger who didn’t seem to like you. “Later, ok? First, be a good boy and have dinner.” Your soft voice reminded him of the prospect of food, and now he was twisting in your arms. You let go of him and the toddler ran immediately to grab Din’s calf. The man looked exhausted and 100% like he didn’t want to be there. But when he put the little one between his strong arms his face lightened up in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he left towards the catering table. Before getting lost between the multitude, Grogu’s head popped behind Din’s toned shoulder and he waved at you. You needed a moment to recover, having melted like ice cream from the cuteness of the gesture.

What a pair.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, Din can be a little rude sometimes.” You shook your head dismissively in response when Karga excused his friend, even though a little rude was a polite way to say it.

“Don’t worry sir, the baby was so adorable I didn’t notice.” You then offered your best smile before departing. “I leave you to attend the other visitors, it’s been a pleasure.”

Later in your shared dorm, you’d think a lot about the pair you had met. Such a friendly toddler and his dad? He was so attractive and manly you felt dizzy, but he had been so rude to you. What was the problem with him? He looked like he instantly disliked you. Maybe it was your cologne? Was it your outfit? Turning in your narrow mattress, you said to yourself you had more pressing matters to attend to, like how the hell you were going to pay for the semester after your scholarship had been denied. You sighed and closed your eyes, and you dreamt with broad shoulders and bright huge eyes.

Next Chapter

Tag List: @technicallykawaiisoul

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x original female character #modern din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro boys #pedro pascal characters #droidwrites #sculptor din djarin

[madswritingvoid]

Start of Something New | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

A/N: Hi guys! I’m back! Got a bunch of things to go through but like everyone, Eddie Munson has taken over my life. So please enjoy the beginning of what will be a fix-it series with our darling Munson. This is set in 1989 and will hopefully be a fun ride for all.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Words: 5k

Warnings: none except like one swear, but this fic is 18+ because you KNOW we’ll be getting that Munson loving soon enough!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You take a deep breath as you stare out into the mall from the other side of your store’s doors.

It’s your first day as a manager of Hot Topic, the latest addition to Starcourt Mall’s already long list of retailers. But this is different. You fought tooth and nail to get this job. Finally you found a place that not only admired your less-than-popular tastes in music and fashion, but celebrated you for it - you walked out of that interview with a store to manage and a killer employee discount.

Walking into the dimly lit store this morning you took your time to admire the band shirts, the pride and joy of your store, where you find The Cure, one of your favourites, amongst other bands like Metallica and Suicidal Tendencies. The same people who sneered at you for your Doc Martens and safety-pinned pants will now have to deal with the fact that you’re here to flip their Gap-coloured world upside down. Now other “freaks” and “devil worshippers” could shop in peace regardless of whether they wanted new chains for their shirt, pants or face, and walk out sporting the latest design from their favourite band.

You adjust your lanyard covered in pins collected from the million of concerts you’ve attended, a sudden wave of nerves crashes over you. Would people who needed this store feel safe to come in? Was this the right outfit to wear? What if people came in to harass you and you couldn’t fight back because you could lose your job? You make a last-minute decision to dash to the registers in the middle of the store and grab the mix tape you brought to hype yourself up and put it in the store’s sound system. Letting the familiar synth of Depeche Mode wash over you, you square your shoulders and walk back to the front. Time to open whether you’re ready or not.

The day goes pretty much how you think it will. If you had a nickle for every time a older Christian person called you a devil worshipper, you could’ve bought at least two more coffees. Teenagers come in to oogle at you and laugh at your clothes and the outfits set up on mannequins throughout the store, families bringing in their black sheep child to wander and wonder how they could possibly be in the right place, and the occasional fellow freak who is excited you’re here. Fellow freaks like the one who has been doing laps around the outside of your store for the past twenty minutes.

You have an ongoing bet with yourself if he’ll actually come in. Mullet, denim-on-denim outfit with a Dio patch on the back of his vest, and what looks to be a shirt with some sort of devil on it from what you can make out. He’s cute, that much you can tell, especially that adorable blush that crept up his neck when he caught you staring back at him. You’ve noticed certain songs from your mix tape either excite him or cause him to furrow his brow, almost like he wants to tell you that Metallica’s “Fade To Black” could NOT be followed up by Bauhaus’ “Bela Ligosi’s Dead”. You wonder what song will make him break and come in because unfortunately a hottie is not grounds for you to abandon your store.

Apparently the final straw for your mystery man was “Master of Puppets” fading into The Cure’s “Boys Don’t Cry”. You’re crouched down fixing a stack of shirts when the sound of footsteps approaching land you face-to-face with scuffed Reeboks. Following the shoes up past the ripped back jeans and apparent “Hellfire Club” shirt, you’re met with the warmest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. “Are you the one I’m supposed to talk to about what’s going on in here?” Raising an eye brow you rise to meet him, “what’s going on here is my killer mixtape, so if you’ve come to pledge your undying love for me and my superior taste, then yes I’m the right person to speak to.” Snorting at your reply, he holds his hand out with a smile that makes those brown eyes crinkle and cause a pleasant warmth to spread through your body.

“Munson. Eddie Munson. You’ll have to excuse me having a little musical crisis outside, I just wasn’t expecting such an interesting mix playing in Starcourt Mall.” You shake his hand as you introduce yourself, still not believing you’re actually talking to him and maintaining your composure. Talking to people you found attractive was never your strong suit, but he’s in your store, so you cling to the familiarity around you to stay strong. Dropping his hand you quickly compose yourself, eager to see how long this can keep going, “Well Eddie Munson, I think you’ll find that just like this store I’m here to make Starcourt and Hawkins itself a lot more… interesting”.

With the ice broken and no customers to help, Eddie decides to stick around where you swap favourite bands, movies, and everything in between. You admit you remember him from high school, but your parents moved away after freshman year, leaving you a mystery to those in what would have been your graduating year. Especially since you’re back looking different, embracing the weird things you like and dressing in a way that definitely would have made a full four years at Hawkins High feel like 400. “Of course the only cool person ditched this town before we could hang out!” He slaps his hand on your cash counter, faking offence.

“You have to make it up to me by letting me make you a mixtape. Something you can have at the store or those nights alone, dreaming of the next time you’ll see me under these dim lights.” You pretend to think his offer over but inside your buzzing. Even if Eddie doesn’t think there’s some kind of electricity between you, you know you want to see him again and him wanting to make you a mixtape might just make your heart burst. Knowing you can’t talk with Eddie forever, as much as you might want to, you offer him what you can.

“You’re in luck Munson, I run this place, so come see me again soon and I’ll listen to your tape while trying to make up for lost time.” He slaps the counter again in excitement and points at your face, “I’ll see you tomorrow then sweet cheeks, I have the feeling we’re going to get along just fine!”

Fuck I hope so, you think, already imagining what having Eddie Munson in your life will bring.

#stranger things #stranger thing s4 #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fanfiction #joseph quinn

[greateasternj69]

Here is a late Halloween picture of a living version of the fictional movie ship SS Antonia Graza from Ghost Ship 2002. I was originally suppose to have this done in time for Halloween. But RL stuff got in the way, and I wasn't feeling motivated to do anything art related for a while. But I'm getting back into the project's I'm currently working on now, and hopefully I should have something else finished after this one.

For this Halloween, I decided to visit one of the movie ships from a particular horror film from 2002, Ghost Ship which features the fictional Ocean Liner SS Antonia Graza. She was based on the famous Italian Liner SS Andera Doria which sank in 1956 with a 35-foot 1/20th scale model of the ship being made specially made for the film, in both clean and rusted forms. In the movie Antonia Graza goes missing in 1962 after a series of mysterious events occur on board that lead to the deaths of both the passengers and crew, and is discovered years later by a salvaging crew who discover several boxes containing gold bars in the cargo hold, which leads a few of them to discover the mastermind behind the ships disappearance.

For my inspiration of Graza, and how her story would work in my universes lore. Firstly although the Antonia Graza was built in 1954 in the original films lore. I decided to move her construction to 1958 a few years after the sinking of the Andrea Doria, and while she is consider a sister ship to the former, and the her sister the Cristoforo Colombo, her design would more resemble that of Leonardo Da Vinci who's construction also began around the same time as hers, with both being launched as twins on the same day. Both were constructed to be Andrea Doria's replacement after her tragic sinking.

Immediately the two siblings had opposite personalities from each other. While Vinci was more outgoing and sociable towards other ships and liners and more respectable towards passengers regardless of status. Antonia Graza was arrogant, stubborn, self-centred and very bad-tempered liner who due her highly prestigious and privileged life style constantly demanded for her bosses and crews attention to that of a prima donna Hollywood celebrity, She always wanted to keep up herself looking perfect in her appearance towards her passengers with Graza demanding to be repainted every single time she saw something like a hint of rust on her hull, often to the point of overdoing it with too many layers of paint and constant mess-ups by overworking the painters which only made her lash out at them for a simple mistake. She even spent way too much time in drydock having herself cleaned after every voyage, often refusing to let other vessels around her use the facilities including her own siblings who often argued with her to let them into the dock until she finally gave in, albeit in angry tone.

Graza was also very picky about the type people and liners she hangout with and wanted to be around. When it came to passengers, she always treated the elites of the first class passengers to high-regard as they were the ones she always thought were the most important above all the other classes, their status bring them the most attention from the press and leading her to believe they deserved to be treated with the up most respect by those below them. In spite of the truth most of them were greed ridden and filled with selfish desires for power and domination of others. Because of their negative influence on Graza, it only fuelled her conceitedness, to the point where she treated all of the tourist class passengers as inferior poor souls who had to envy the might of the rich for the whole voyage, to the point of mocking them through her self-pride.

When it came to other ships, due to Graza's arrogant attitude. Graza was never really that popular with any other ship around her who saw her as entitled to her prestigious role without a care for others, even her siblings didn't like her attitude, and this put a strain on her relationship with them. With Graza getting into raging arguments with Cristoforo Colombo who she saw as unworthy broken liner who did nothing to save the sister she never met, despite Colombo stating that her death was entirely out of her control, to which Graza shrugged off. She even belittled her twin because of her not seeing the wealthy in the way she saw them, with Vinci having to argue with her that class shouldn't matter despite their prestigious role, and that Graza was just jealous of her because she was able to make friends with some of the most famous liners and average vessels, while Graza was unable to due to her stubbornness towards them and prejudice towards lower vessels of less prestigious roles.

Thus the only friends Graza had were attention seeking loud-mouths who had the same opinions and views as her, and she treated all of the less prestigious vessels and machines as crummy, weak, repulsive and ugly to where she would give warnings to them to stay out of her way, even when some attempted to befriend her.

However, what Graza didn't realise was that her arrogance and abuse of her privileged status were about bring about her last voyage and with it her doom.

On May 17th 1962 Antonia Graza after some delay involving some crew refusing to work aboard her in Genoa. Departed for New York for another westbound crossing, last being seen off Gibraltar heading out into the Atlantic. Two day's later Graza received a distress call from an unidentified vessel who she and her crew didn't recognize, as the ship who was sending it was not on radar, and appeared to be one of an old wireless telegraph message. SOS was deciphered by one of the crew, and the ship in distress was a ship called the SS Lorelei which in the message was said to be taking on water with all systems failed and was sinking fast. Captain Rugglero ordered his crew to head towards the stricken vessel much to Graza annoyance. When they reached the scene of the disaster, they mysteriously found nothing, except for a few pieces of wreckage, nine cases of gold bars, and one sole survivor who they immediately brought aboard and addressed their find to other vessels in the area. However, Graza had sensed that there was something unnatural about the survivor as she sensed some strange energy coming from his presence. But she thought nothing of it, as she continued her crossing across the Atlantic determined to make up for lost time.

On the night of May 21st. Antonia Graza was making good time as she was a few day's away from reaching the west coast of America. There was a lot of partying going on above her on deck with a dance taking place on a large floor on her bow. However, Graza didn't really care about parties, and was naturally only focused on getting to her destination on time. She even too busy thinking about what she would say to Colombo when she finally arrived in New York. Suddenly, as she was in thought she started feel all dizzy and drowsy in her bow, and began slow her engines down as she sensed that something was wrong, and indeed there was, but one she couldn't see in her line of sight. Someone had poured a some sort of very strong sleeping agent in her brain box where her brain was, and began effect her ability to stay awake. The agent was not a medical one either, as it's power was coming at her brain with full force. Antonia Graza tried to resist it and stay awake, but the agent was too strong to fight back against, and she became so tired that she finally shut down her engine, radar equipment shut off and fell into a very deep and long sleep. While above her the horrific and gruesome events unfolded, arrogance having finally sealed her fate.

A few day's passed until Antonia Graza was reported missing when she didn't turn up in New York after being behind schedule for day's from her expected arrival time. With families of those onboard worried about the fate of their loved ones. As search party was sent out in search of the missing liner, they first went to her last known position as reported by Labrador Coast Guard Station, Canada, with a team of divers. Believing that she might have sank with all onboard. However, when they got there and searched the surface and the seafloor, they found nothing, not a single ship or body. The search parties searched for day's across every corner of the Atlantic but with no luck of finding the lost Italian Liner.

Soon an inquire was set up to determine the fate of Graza and those onboard from both the Italian and American sides. From the inquire one key fact was brought up by the crew of a cargo vessel who had arrived in Genoa a few day's after last contact with Graza. The captain reported that the Antonia Graza's captain had contacted them to send a message with them to Italy, stating that they had gotten an SOS call from the Lorelei, and they found nothing but a sole survivor and nine cases of gold bars, and would like the authorise in Italy, Spain or France to send a search party out to find the remains of the lost ship. When asked about this by other ships and their crews within the area of the reported distress. They all claimed that the reality was, they had received no distress call from such a ship with one older vessel stating that the Lorelei the crew of the cargo vessel had been notified about, hadn't been seen since 1902, as that ship too had been reported missing after rescuing a sole survivor from another ship, who too also went missing with no explanation as to why these disappearances happened, as both vessels were never found. Having vanished without a trace of them ever being in the last position reported.

Despite many possibilities of the disappearance being brought up, non of them came to official answer to explain Graza's disappearance, and to this day the files of the mystery remains in the US Coast Guard's and NTSB's incident investigation files, as unsolved and Antonia Graza herself as still missing. However, many ships believe that Antonia Graza is still out there somewhere, being adrift in the Atlantic for 60 years. The salty air having eaten away at the elegance she once tried to keep perfect, deteriorated and rusted, with all the remains of those lost onboard that fateful night with their voices searching for peace of their suffering souls. Some think that Graza would've learned her lesson of all the mistakes she made in her life by this time.

Antonia Graza (original movie ship) © Warner Brothers

Antonia Graza (my version) and Art © Great Eastern J69

[sevlgi]

bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot​‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had  to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college. 

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you.  “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally. 

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde  girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her. 

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”

#twice #twice sana #sana #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #sana imagines #sana scenarios #sana icons #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group fanfic #twice fanfic #twice icons #twice imagines #twice x reader #twice scenarios #twice reactions #twice incorrect quotes #twice hcs #twice minatozaki sana

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (4)

(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

Chapter 4: Get to Know You

Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.

Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself. 

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that. 

The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys. 

Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.

Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”

“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”

Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”

“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.

“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”

That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present. 

Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”

Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”

“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!” 

“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.

Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”

“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.

Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.

Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed. 

“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”

Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”

Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”

Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.

“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)

Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.

“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”

She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”

Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel. 

These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.

“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”

“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”

Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.

“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.

Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.

“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.

Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”

Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”

“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”

Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing. 

“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.

Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.

“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”

“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”

“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”

He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.

“Oh, Claude!”

“Are you okay?” 

The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.

“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”

“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”

Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”

Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.

“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”

“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.

Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”

“Hey!”

Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”

Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.

“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”

Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”

Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”

“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”

Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.

“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”

“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”

Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”

The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.” 

Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”

Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.

By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance. 

“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.

Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”

“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch. 

Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”

The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.

~~~~~~

One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..

Marinette really loved the color pink.

Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!

Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.

When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.

Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were. 

Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.

“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”

Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.

“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”

Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.

Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“It’s got a rail.” 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”

Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”

“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.

Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.

“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”

“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”

“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”

“Where who gets what from?” 

Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”

Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”

“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”

“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.

Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.

He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars). 

Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.

“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside. 

Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”

“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”

Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.

Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.” 

Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”

The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..

Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.

What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.

“To: Adrien

From: Marinette”

Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking. 

Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person. 

That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?

A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.

“Dear Adrien, 

Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!

With all my love, Marinette”

Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.

“Hey, Felix!” 

Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.

“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.

“He just wants to talk.”

Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her? 

Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?

My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce

#felinette #Felix Culpa #Marinette #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Quantic Kids

[cuddlesslut]

Live my Life Ch.1

Kuroo x fem reader

Summary: sometimes life is full of making the wrong choices and not knowing till it’s to late.

A/N: this is chapter one of my new story. I’m still writing the Home series I must really wanted to start this story as well. I hope you guys like this one.

Warning: Angst, Smut, Drunk Sex, Underage drinking, toxic behavior

You found yourself sitting in this dingy bar nursing a drink you weren’t supposed to have. This had become part of your routine. It all started about three weeks ago. Your friend Kana, or well you suppose she could be called a friend she was more of a friend of a friend. She seemed nice enough kind of the free spirit type of girl always into the new big trend, not really what you would describe yourself as, more of what you wanted to be. You weren’t exactly some shy shut in but still your anxieties held you back from charging head first into in life and taking the bull by the horns. That’s why you surprised even yourself when you offered to be Kana’s bar buddy.

Kana is bartender at this whole in the wall bar with dim lighting. It got fairly good business but not enough to warrant more than one bartender at a time. That being the case Kana would often be there by herself well late into the night, the neighborhood wasn’t horrible but it still was unsettling sometimes. So as her bar buddy you would come at some point in her shift and find a free seat at the bar hopefully far enough distance from any other patrons. You’d order some fries or whatever greasy snack food you craved and waited there with her while she worked until she was ready to lock up. It was pretty easy you’d just sit there offering her someone to talk when she was bored or when she need to escape some overbearing customers. She’d make her way over too you and pretend to make you a drink. Although she offered you a drink you usually turn her down for the clear fact that you were underage when it came to drinking. It was perfectly fine for you to sit in the establishment since it also served food but at the age of 18 drinking was still prohibited. Being the laid back girl and bartender she was Kana didn’t care about bending that rule for a friend.

Most nights you’d pull out some school work on your tablet that your carried with you or just read some stories on your phone. Usually trying your best to avoid conversation with the regulars. That didn’t work as well as you hoped and soon enough you were quickly learning all of the local gossip and being included in the group known as the regulars. Which is what you were since you found yourself here four nights out of you week. You didn’t mind spending so much of your time here with Kana it was kind of nice to stray from your comfort zone plus you and Kana were steadily getting closer as friends too. Everything was smooth sailing until you met him.

It was a usual Thursday night you got dressed in your causal but sleek outfit. Wearing a comfortable pair of Jeans that hugged your body nicely not too tight but still showed your curves. You paired it with a black blouse and black ankle boots. You freshened up your make up of the day not needing to try to hard seeing as you weren’t going there to impress anyone. In fact you preferred to not draw any attention. Your brushed through your hair finally heading out of your home and too the dingy bar. Things seemed a little off tonight some felt different but still you took your usual seat as you scanned the bar. It was fairly empty only two other customers sitting all the way at the other end of the counter. Kana wasn’t anywhere to be found, she’s probably just grabbing something back you reasoned. And sure enough you could hear a clang in the back of the establishment that was hidden from the public eye. Although it wasn’t Kana that popped around the corner. Instead stood a tall and extremely handsome guy. He was wild black hair that was strewn in a chaotic fashion but it suited him. You could tell by his physique that he was fit , not too overly muscular but when he reached up to put the box he was carrying on the top shelf you could see a peak of a very well defined v line on his tanned skin. This man was the definition of tall, dark ,and handsome. And that wasn’t even mentioning his intense honey eyes that felt like they pierced your soul with just one look. He wore a black pair of fitted jeans and a red button up with strange print on it. You could inspect the odd design more intensely as he approached you with a smirk plastered on his face. Ah they were little black cats that littered his print. The style screamed I’m stylish but quirky.

“Well hello there sweetheart how can I help you?” You could tell he was using his customer service persona. Ah he goes for the smooth talkng flirt, he probably does very well with middle aged woman, you think.

“Um yeah,” you state giving the room one more look “ do you know where Kana is?” You questioned.

His perked at the mention of your friend. You could see him relax a little as he released some tension rolling his shoulders back. “Ahh you must be YN,” he smiled placing his hands on the bar leaning forward. His voice was a notch higher no longer Using his deep Casanova tone, this one was more natural. You eyes widened at the sound of your name leaving his lips.

“Yeah,” you replied hesitant.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,” he presented his hand offering a firm shake to which you awkwardly accepted. “I’m guessing Kana forgot to inform you that id becoming back to work my usual Thursday shift today did she?” He let out a small chuckle.

Damn it Kana you cursed inside your mind. You could have been cozy in bed right now. “Ha nope she did not,” you let out a sigh. “I didn’t realize she was just covering these last few weeks” you respond.

“She just had my Thursday shift Mondays and Wednesdays are still her regular days.” He grinned “she was nice enough to take my shift while I was out with some family stuff.”

“Ahh I see, well I’ll should probably get out of your hair,” you stated starting to slide off the stool.

“Hey wait you came all the way out here let me get you a drink,” he offered.

You froze in your seat for a moment kind of embarrassed. You felt heat creep to your face as you respond “ oh umm I’m not actually old enough I’m only 18,” your eye locked on the surface in front of you.

He let out a chuckle “let me see your ID.”

Your face scrunched in confusion “but-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Shh just hand it over,” he smiles. You raise your eyebrow as you reach into your handbag fishing out your ID and handing it over. He backs upmholding it as though it was valid. “Well look at that! Sure enough you’re 20,” he gives a cheeky smile “so what can I get you to drink?”

You take back your card placing it back safely in your bag a look of shock present on your youthful features. You lean forward whispering “won’t you get in trouble!” Not wanting to have someone risk their job. He lets out a haughty laugh. “My dads the owner so I’m not too worried.” He stated cockily. “So again what are you drinking sweetheart?” Again he flashed that stupid smirk that sent your stomach doing flips.

After two drinks and some idle chit chat in his free time you decided it probably be best if you headed out. He was quick to stop you. “Ahh come on dont leave so soon I was hoping you’d be my bar buddy too,” he pouted. You rolled your eyes at his teasing. It was enough to keep you there though ordering another drink to nurse. It felt nice chatting and casually flirting with this attractive stranger.

This too became part of your routine. You still went to the bar during Kana’s shift to keep her company but you kept going on Thursday and spending you night talking to Kuroo. The both of you spending most of the night getting to know each other. It was just surface things like school, you found out he was two years older than you going to a university near by studying chemical engineering,and your taste in music which was something you had a lot in common. The conversation focused mainly on you. He always directed the flow of the conversation he was so out going and smooth, always asking questions about your day liked hearing about your day as if being a 3rd year in high school was the most exciting thing. You’d sit there for hours with him trying new drinks sometimes finding yourself leaving the bar at three am as if you didn’t have class in four hours. But you didn’t care it was exhilarating this was the most rebellious thing you had ever done. The flirting was harmless never going to far. And although you wouldn’t admit you were getting a crush on the raven haired bartender.

It was just another Wednesday night but today something inside of you told you to dress up more than you’d usually go for. Tonight you wore a simple black dress with a deep neckline that really showed your figure without being to flashy. Your period had recently finished so knowing you were securely dried up you decided to go for a pair of your fancy red lace panties and a matching bra that always boosted your confidence. Not that anyone would be seeing them. You checked yourself one last time before heading out to the bar and damn did you look hot.

When you entered the bar you were surprised to it was rather busy with customers all over the place, luckily you find a seat at the bar. You noticed that Kenma was also behind the bar. Kenma was the other bartender that worked the shifts opposite of Kana and Kuroo. He was also Kuroo’s best friend. You’ve only met him a couple times when he’d come to the bar to see Kuroo while he was on shift. It must be really busy if they called him in to work the bar with Kana.

Kana gave a sigh of relief and smiled as she saw you sitting at the bar. “Oh my god girl hey,” smiled “do you see how hectic it is?” She laughed. She took a moment to fully look you over her eyes wide.

“Damn girl you look fucking hot!” You felt some pride grow in you hearing your friend complement you. She always looked amazing so hearing that she thought you looked great felt like high praise.

“You want a drink babe?” She asked although it was more a of statement as she was already whipping together a drink before you were finished nodding. She handed you a strong yet sweet drink before she was whisked away by some needy patrons.

You sipped on your drink watching Kana handle the crowd. You and Kenmas eyes would lock every now and then but it’s very short and awkward. You don’t know him very well. Part of your anxieties had you convinced he didn’t like you. But you tried not to read into it to much. Kuroo had told you once that it was just that he wasn’t much of a people person only working at the bar as a favor to Kuroo and his father. You sit there silently observing the world around you not noticing someone taking the seat next to you.

“Boo,” a husky voiced whispered into your ear sending shivers down your spine. Kuroo cackled as you jumped turning around clutching your chest.

“What the hell Kuroo!” You gasped trying to steady your breathing. “They call you in too?” You ask referring to the booming business you sat in.

“Nah it’s my day off and I wanted to come have a drink and bug Kenma,” he rose his hand singling said man for a drink. “But looks like I lucked out now I get to bother you all night,” he smirked.

“Oh really and who said I want to have you around I deal with you enough on Thursdays,” you smiled back with a sly look.

He feigned a look of hurt. “Ouch YN you wound me, I thought we were friends,” giving you look that definitely didn’t come off as just friendly. You just roll your eyes trying to hide your intrigue. “Well it seems I need to prove my friendship to you let me by you a drink.” He rested his hand on yours as he signaled for a refill on your drink.

You should have seen it coming but you acted surprised when after several drinks and a couple rounds of shots you found yourself in the back seat of his car. Your red panties tossed to the side somewhere in the vehicle. You were laying back as he dove under the hem your dress. Kuroo looked up to your face his lips barley an inch away from your heat. He had a devious look on his face as he watched your face flush with need. Your lips were swollen from the heated make out sessions you had outside the bar. He quirked his eyebrow teasingly his heavy breath tickling you. He was waiting. It was almost tortuous but you knew what he wanted.

You pouted your chest rising and falling from your hard breathing. “Please!” You begged. He smiled content with hearing your pleas before diving into you his tongue lapping at your wet folds. Your head fell back in pleasure as he ate you out like a man starved. Your moans filled the car as he worked his skilled tongue in and out of you. He could feel how close you were as he felt you clench around his fingers as he worked you loose. Relief flooded your body as you came on his face. Lust still flooding you as you watched him lick up all your juices. He moved up your body sealing your lips into a searing kiss you could taste your essence on his lips.

Your hands reached down his body grabbing at his bulge. He let out a groan in your ear before picking you up and placing you on his lap. He attacked you neck nippping and sucking harsh purple marks into your skin. He pulled the collar of your dress down pulling your breast out . Moving your bra down he latched his lips around your swollen nipple rolling it between his teeth. You let out a pained moan as you rolled you hips into his lap. He finally hit limit. He lifted you up as he pulled his pants and boxers down before lining his achingly hard length with your wet cunt before pulling you down on it. Both of your groans filled the space as you felt him fill you whole. You hid your face in his neck as you panted while he let you adjust to the intrusion. You could feel his hands roaming your ass pushing the skirt of your dress up. A sudden smack came to your ass. You let out a hiss. He rubbed the mark he left on your soft skin.

“Go ahead sweetheart ride my cock,” he demanded. His dirty words sent shivers over body. You did just as he said starting to move your hips up and down rotating on his dick as it reached deep inside of you. Your body was already on edge from your earlier release so it took no time to have you clenching tightly around him you next orgasm fastly approaching.

“Fuck you’re so god damn tight,” he groaned. Lust took over as he grabbed your hips holding you still as he drilled up into your pliant body. Your moans egged him on as he chased both of your climaxes. He loved the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him. Feeling you milk his cock drained him of his will and of his semen as he came deep into you.

You both sat there for a moment both coming down from your highs. Bodies worn from the intense session you had just had. He groaned throughing his head back, “fuck I didn’t wear a condom,” he cursed.

“I’m on birth control” you breathed moving off his lap. You searched for your panties sliding them on quickly trying to contain the mess between your legs.

“Good, that’s good,” he breathed a sigh of relief he looked around both of you. It seemed no one notice dyour little drunken romp in the parking lot. There was a slight awkward pause neither knowing what to say.

“Well that was great,” he offered, “uhh do you need a ride home?” He questioned.

You shook your head, “no I’ll just grab a quick Uber home,” you respond pulling your phone out to do just that.

He nodded seeming to like that idea not wanting you to walk home. “I’ll probably head back in and sober up a little before heading home. I definitely can’t drive right now. I’m not even sure my legs will get me back inside,” he laughed. You giggled as well. A chime rang from your phone, your ride would be pulling up soon.

“Hey give me your number and message me when you get phone safe.” He said taking the phone to send a message to himself successfully trading numbers. He gave you one more deep kiss before you left to catch your Uber.

That night your body passed out exhausted. You knew you were going to regret drinking so much tomorrow morning when you have to wake up for class.

And damn was your body sore. Your head was ponding from all the alcohol and the rest was sore from the wild sex you had. Still you woke up bright and early making sure to shower off any evidence from your delinquent activities. You made sure to take some Advil before leaving for school opting to skip breakfast since your stomach was still unstable from the liquor. Your morning classes were relatively easy not but extremely boring. You found yourself daydreaming through most of your history class thinking back to your night with Kuroo. Little fantasys of dates, and more long talks at the bar, even some naughty ideas popped into your head. It was almost like you willed him into existence because not two seconds later your phone vibrated. Your heart skipped a beat seeing his name pop up in your notifications. You laughed at the way he saved his number last night. Oh my god he texted me you thought you were so giddy. That was until you read the messages.

Kuroo 🥵: Hey YN.

Kuroo 🥵: Last night was a Mistake. Look I have a girlfriend and I love her so I think it’s best we pretend last night never happened. Sorry.

Ouch. That hurt.

General Taglist: @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @graykageyama

Taglist: @captain-janeway @elianetsantana

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq #haikyuu smut #haikyuu angst #kuroo x reader #Kuroo #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x y/n #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsuro angst #live my life #live my life by Cuddlesslut

[clair-void-ance]

Lucky Love (2/3)

Pairing: Cedric the Sorcerer x Alchemist! Reader

Word Count: Roughly 2854 words

Warnings: Mental health and emotional abuse mention

Notes: 😳😳 Yikes, this took too long to post lmaoo; hopefully the third installment is finished sooner than this one. I’m sorry to anyone who has been interested in this for its lateness!! For this one I was going for the same story line as the first part, but in Cedric’s point of view; that’s why it seems so similar. Hopefully you guys like it :) Feedback and requests are always welcomed <3 This one’s for my boi @queen-of-british-tea !!!

“The secrets of alchemy exist to transform mortals from a state of suffering and ignorance to a state of enlightenment and bliss.”

― Deepak Chopra

“He wishes he were a skilled poet, it would fit his chosen image perfectly; the poor, tragic, tortured artiste. But he has no talent for words, neither for paints nor music; his uselessness is tremendously total.”

― Curtis Ackie

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Being born the son of Goodwyn the Great, Cedric was destined to have unreachable expectations pushed onto him; his father’s blatant adoration for fame and glory had been clear to Cedric from an early age and, given he was the only son in his family, he knew that he would soon be groomed into his father’s perfect replacement for when he retired as the Royal Sorcerer. 

The only problem that arose with that goal was that Cedric was only a child and was prone to making mistake after mistake. He knew he wasn’t perfect, no person is, but why did his father have to mention that fact so much?

It appeared that his father just couldn’t understand the notion that he was a conscience, feeling person though and decided to continue his crude actions anyway. No matter how much it hurt Cedric. 

Unbothered by this fact though, his father set out on a mission to make Cedric’s life almost unbearable and filled to the brim with dread over the fact that he would probably never become the royal sorcerer or get the family wand. In Goodwyn’s eyes, Cedric was no more than a mistake that would never be worthy. And at this point, Cedric was starting to believe it.

The days he spent subjected to his father’s emotional neglect and constant taunting when he was tricked into messing up his spells had left him in an emotional limbo that he could not escape from. And who was he to not be affected by this tortuous treatment?

Soon he was counting down the days until he could get away from his toxic family in the castle and attend school at Hexley Hall. 

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One upside to Goodwyn, in Cedric’s opinion, was that he was just as skilled a sorcerer that he claimed he was. Cedric wasn’t sure if this was something he should feel more exasperated about, but he knew that he couldn’t deny the fact. 

No matter how much he desired to demonize his father.

He had the ability to travel almost anywhere in the span of minutes and that was very convenient to a kid who had a very short attention span. And although he couldn’t travel to vast distances, Goodwyn could certainly get to many places three times faster than others. 

Which meant that Cedric could arrive at Hexley Hall faster than all of the other kids and have more time to explore his home for the next seven years. 

In less than one hour, Cedric and his father had travelled from the Castle and made it to the gate of Hexley Hall. The clean exterior of the castle was only rivaled by the beautiful architecture that made it the prestigious academy it is. 

Wasting no time leaving his father and rushing with his items to the front doors, Cedric was awe-struck by the fact that the inside was even more beautiful than the outside. Even inch of it was designed with a purpose and each piece of art was shown with pride and respect. 

And when he saw the warm smiles of the teachers waiting in the hall, beckoning him in, Cedric knew that he could get used to his new home. 

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After being toured around the castle by one of the teachers, as well as given a brief run down of its history, Cedric was left to his own accord and given a map so he wouldn’t get lost. The map had an incantation that would show him his current location and bedroom, which he thought was very convenient. But he wasn’t surprised, he knew how lost kids could get without proper guidance.

Looking down at the map after reciting the spell, he found a glowing mark on where his assigned dorm was located. Ironically enough, his was located with the rest of the sorcerers, witches, wizards, and warlocks. 

Dinner commenced shortly after introductions were made and, after a bout of awkward shuffling, he found a quiet location to eat and then began his trek to his new dormitory.

By chanting the wandless spell to the map once again, an arrow led to his room in the lower regions of the castle where he began to unpack his hefty luggage. 

After neatly organizing all of his ingredients, clothes, and books he quickly laid himself down on the comfortable mattress and ran through the events of the day. Although he still hadn't met any friends yet, he was able to get away from his father and analyze the place he’d be living in for a portion of his teenage life. 

Putting aside those thoughts, he curled into a fetal position and fell into the most blissful sleep he’s had in years. 

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Schedule: Year One- Semester One

Student: Cedric Goodwyn

Study: Sorcery

Study Order

Breakfast

Class One: Potions

Class Two: Intro to Alchemy: The People, The Places, and The Items

Class Three: Intro to Magic: Wands and Guidelines

Class Four: Intro to Magic: Practice

Lunch

Class Five: Magical Creatures and The Human Spirit

Dinner

Looks about right, Cedric thought to himself as he made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

Being somewhat challenged by wand-based spells, Cedric was relieved to see that he had potions for his first class; it was the one subject that he excelled at and was something that used to calm the nerves created by his domineering father. 

So he had no doubt that he would start his days off good with the way things looked on his schedule. 

What if no one likes me enough to partner up with me though? he asked himself while ringing his wrists. 

I guess I’ll just have to take it one step at a time….

With that thought in mind, he picked up his pace and quickly sat in a secluded spot. Looking around, he found that many people had already begun making friends. And, although this was a troubling notion given he had yet to meet anyone, he had hope that he would meet at leat (one) person that would approve of his company. 

There has to be at least ONE person who will like me right? he questioned while gazing around the expansive room. Looking to the section where all the alchemy students sat, his eyes stopped on a girl with the most adorable (h/l) haircut and beautiful disposition.

Neptune’s Nettles they were gorgeous...Hopefully I share some classes with her. Blushing, he looked back down at his breakfast and waited until it was time to head to his first class session of the year. 

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Nice! Cedric thought. I’ve got the first pick of any seat in the class!

Looking around, he found a spot that felt just right; it wasn’t too far in the back and was just enough to be in the front and in a corner. 

Smiling smugly, he sat down and began to unpack all the necessary items listed on the board in front of him. 

Humming to himself, Cedric slowly stopped when he heard a series of footsteps approaching the classroom. 

Thinking it was just the professor, given how early Cedric arrived, he kept his head down and decided to begin labelling the items in his journal.

That is, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. Whipping his head back, he stared dumbfounded at who was standing behind him: the girl from this morning!

Oh goodness, what if I’m sitting in the spot she wants?? What if she has some sort of beef with me already?? Oh dear, I’m gonna throw up..

This thought process continued until you let out a shy, "Do you mind if I sit next to you? I like the feel of this corner and you don't look half as bad as the rest of our class. Plus, I haven’t had much luck making friends."

OH, he thought, That’s not what I was expecting. Trailing his eyes to yours, he searched for any sign of this being a lie but couldn’t find any. 

Softening his features, he opened his mouth and let out a:

"Really?....I suppose I don't mind." 

He cautiously lifted his palm to you and said, "My names Cedric. I'm coming here to become one of the next Royal Sorcerers. What about you?"

With a firm grip, you shook his hand and settled down into your seat next to his. Watching you take out your schedule he heard you reply, "(y/n) Erwin! I'm studying to become the Royal Alchemist!"

Gripping your chin with an inquisitive look, you added a quick, "You wouldn't happen to be related to Goodyn the Great would you? I thought I recognized you at first, but I couldn't quite place from where…."

"Uhm….Yeah, I am. D-did you live at the castle as well?"

Analyzing you, he tried to remember times in which he would have seen you, but none came to mind. Which wasn’t surprising given he had all of his time stolen from either the prince or his father. 

His thought process was halted though when you looked at him and said, "Yep. My dad's the Royal Astronomer, so we get to live with him at the castle…..I've seen you around you know….I always meant to say hi, but your dad and sister seemed to take up most of your time."

He rubbed his wrists anxiously and let out a, "yeah, they tend to do that…...but I digress. Do wanna compare schedules? I don't have any friends either, and y-you don't seem that bad as well…."

Looking down at the schedule you held loosely in your hand he noticed that it didn't seem so far off from his. You were both new to the school after all, so it made a tad bit of sense but luckily you both wouldn't have to split up very much for the next couple of years.

Schedule: Year One- Semester One

Student: (y/n) Erwin

Study: Alchemy

Study Order

Breakfast

Class One: Potions

Class Two: Intro to Alchemy: The People, The Places, and The Items

Class Three: Intro to Magic: Wands and Guidelines

Class Four: Gnosticism, Occultism, and Esoteric Beliefs

Lunch

Class Five: Magical Creatures and The Human Spirit

Dinner

Surprisingly, it seemed as though you would be seeing a lot of each other. Which didn't seem to bother either of you that much. After confirming your new friendship and planning your day out together, you both set up the rest of your supplies and began your first class of the day.

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

After cleaning up your respective area of the shared potions table when class ended, Cedric reminisced on how well the class had actually gone. Despite both of you being new, you and Cedric seemed to work in a sort of synchronized state. Even your teacher pointed out how good you two were together. This had made Cedric feel elated, it was the first praise he had gotten since leaving his father; that alone made him feel on top of the world. Even more so when he took into account that he gained a friend and intellectual equal.

Picking up the last of his mess, he gently put his bag over his shoulder and looked back to you waiting for him at the end of the desk.

You looked up and down and asked slowly, “Would you mind if I sat with you in our other classes as well today? I’m not really…..friends with anyone else here yet and we seem to make a good team. Plus, you seem really sweet.”

“I’d love to!,” he said in an excitable raised voice. His face broke out in a flustered blush at how desperate he sounded and quickly let out a, “I mean, if that’s what you want to do…”

To that, you chuckled and lightly punched his shoulder saying, “Of course I would you dork. Now let's hurry up so we can get the best seats in our next class."

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

After that day, the two of you were like two peas in a pod. Whenever you both had a class, were going somewhere, or ate, you were attached to the hip. Even teachers knew that, if they couldn’t find one of you, they wouldn’t find the other either as well. 

For you two, there was never a subject left unstudied, never a prank left undone, and never a conversation left undiscussed.

It started off with you both teaming up in your shared classes, meeting for meals, and talking on the way to class, but soon branched off outside of school. 

With coaching from you, and years of positive reinforcement on your end, Cedric had been coaxed out of his hesitant and neglected shell. All it took was one fond look and a caress of his hair from you and Cedric was turned into mush. The love you showed him through the years made him see that not everyone was out to get him. And not everyone was untrustworthy. 

In summary, you brought hope in humanity back into his life. Something that he surely would have gone off the deep-end without.

To others, it seemed as though you had put him under a spell and transformed him into a new man; Cedric had never felt so confident in his life.

Especially since he never had anyone to support him. Until you, that is……

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

Year 7 at Hexley Hall

Flicking your wand in a cursive “J” formation while pointing your wand at the painted black stone, Cedric watched as you whispered, “Avifors.” 

Within seconds, the rock you had been pointing at morphed in size and began to take the shape of a sleek, black raven that immediately began pecking the tip of your index finger. It cocked its head at you and turned to inspect Cedric.

Cedric, gazing back at the bird, looked absolutely stunned at the sight of this seemingly never-heard-of spell and immediately began to shift his eyes to you and then raven. He wasn’t sure where you had learned that, since you were only taking alchemy classes, but he was beyond interested in knowing.

“Merlin’s Beard! Did you make that spell up all on your own?”

“Not exactly,” you chuckled, “My father and I worked for days to come up with the correct spell and paint concoction when I was a child. But it worked out, and now I have a way to create any type of bird to do my bidding!”

Setting his chin in his palm, he began to gaze fondly at the scene in front of him and think about all the things he has yet to learn about you. 

“Would it be alright if you taught me that spell? I know it’s yours and everything….. but it’s too bloody brilliant to be left unpracticed.”

“Sure!.......I'll write it down for you by tomorrow.”

That confirmation made his heart swoon and a grin break out on his face. Yet another thing that would bring him closer to you. He knew that this spell was very special to you, so you being willing to show him it reassured him that you cared about him as much as he cared about you.

He was willing to do anything for you and perfecting your spell was one of the best ways he could think of to honor your spectacular intelligence. 

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

When night revealed itself and Cedric was tucked away trying to complete his assignment, he began to reminisce on the time he spent with you that day. He knew how special that spell was to you, and knew that you sharing it with him meant something. Right?

After all, you didn’t share personal things like that with just anyone; even he wasn’t privy to most of your private thoughts and feelings. Up until recently that is; you had begun to reveal more and more about yourself to him and, honestly, it made Cedric finally feel special and worthwhile. Which did NOT help the fact that he had been in love with you for the last five years. 

And thought Cedric knew that he had to confess soon, he needed to know if you felt the same before he ruined whatever it was that you two had going on right now. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings….that would make everything pretty awkward….Which wouldn’t help his situation out too much.

At least it would give him some closure....

He had been with you at every step of the way through your years at Hexley Hall, and he knew that you would be there for him for days to come. Working at Enchancia’s castle wouldn’t stop the bond that you both had formed over the years; it would only make it grow. Which it what he was hoping would help you develop feelings for him.

With each other until the end, that’s what you both had promised one another. 

‘If only she liked me back,’ he thought to himself, gazing into the spell that he had been too distracted to work on for the last two hours. 

With a huff of a laugh, he closed his textbook and laid down to go to sleep.  

As if…………..

#cedric x reader #cedric the sensational x reader #cedric the sorcerer #Sofia the First #sofia the fandom #sofia the first imagine #STF #cedric the sensational #x reader #request

[bat-besties]

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Remus is the most eccentric customer who visits Janus and Virgil's café. When he goes missing after talking to a mysterious stranger, Janus resolves to investigate further- and Virgil isn't letting him go alone.

AO3 10k 

Huge thanks to @mariniacipher, I could not have written this without her. She let me talk about the idea for hours, it has somehow developed into a series, and the story itself took a real twist because of talking to her! Another massive thank you to @5-crofters-jams, who did a marathon edit of the entire piece for me, and has made the story so much smoother and more effective (and much less British because my original dialogue did upset her American sensibilities XD) Also thanks to @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors, who knew everything I needed about pigeon corpses!

CW: dead bird, touching the bird corpse, bird funeral, Remus levels of comments about gore and innuendo, drug mention, mention of vomiting, kidnapping and captivity, feeling nauseous from anxiety, light dehumanization, brief allusion to racist violence

- 

Remus was...

(There was usually a little gesture there: Virgil’s rolled eyes, or Janus’ helplessly fond smile, or a disapproving look from Remy-)

....Remus.

Their anarchist cafe saw its fair share of unusual customers but only one of them was, well, Remus.

Morning sunlight threw beams which striped the posters covering the walls- old propaganda posters mixed with ads for tutors, food banks, and drag shows. There was a quiet chatter of customers, occasionally broken up by bursts of laughter or a called greeting to another patron as they came in. Kids from the skatepark sat on a pile of beanbags charging their phones, having given up the comfortable chairs for a small group of elderly butches with stretched tattoos who were now speaking with slang from fifty years ago. A mother whose baby was trying to grab onto her braids was trying to feed him with one hand and hold her husband’s with the other. A college student frowning at their laptop screen and consuming coffee at an alarming rate was seemingly oblivious to the punk trying to discreetly read their laptop stickers. One of a Pan-African flag matched the full-sized one on the wall, swaying with wafts of coffee and baked goods along with spider plants and assorted pride flags. Old photos of a Black Panther group in the town, reprinted and signed by some of their patrons, were framed proudly on the walls.

Since everyone had been served, Virgil was taking a few breaths to check over the register and prepare for the next rush. The rhythm of checking, preparing, and letting the background chatter fade into the background blended into a pleasant, thoughtless routine. Cups out. Setting out more sandwiches. Look over the register. Maybe get something from the back-

“Morning, shitwad!”

Virgil ducked under the counter as something thumped into the coffee machine behind him, and a few of the regulars laughed in good nature.

“Oh, good morning, darling,” Janus replied smoothly, appearing from the kitchen. He was wearing a yellow shirt which contrasted with his deep brown skin perfectly, as well as a bowler hat and dapper bow-tie. He pulled plastic gloves over his hands with all the elegance of a debutante preparing for a ball.

There was a shrill wolf whistle. “Those are some sexy wrists!” was the next comment, followed by a squawking laugh, and Virgil rolled his eyes as his friend brought a flustered hand up to adjust his collar. Every day, he faced the deep attraction between the most sophisticated person he knew and the most outlandish, and he didn’t know which was more obnoxious. As Virgil popped back up, Janus reached over to the projectile on the back counter. It was the small, feathery body of a dead pigeon, carefully wrapped in cling wrap.

Virgil gave Janus a long-suffering look and got out a bottle of disinfectant. “Morning, Remus,” he grumbled, despite his irritation. “What can I get for you today?”

“My friend died at 3am last night,” he replied instead. “I need to store her in your fridge until you both get off work, and then we’ll hold her funeral!”

When they were alive, Remus treated the pigeons as gently as they did each other-

That is to say, he was ruthlessly protective of chicks, ready to grab and move anyone encroaching on territory, and, if pecked, was fully ready to bite back. Still, at his two-tone whistle a whole flock of assorted birds would fly down to meet him. His eyes would shine bright as they flew around him like a feathered whirlwind, and settled on the surfaces all around him like a hopeful congregation as he fed them with whatever he had. Despite their number, almost all had names and ascribed personalities.

Exactly how he could tell the difference between two seemingly identical pigeons Virgil had no idea, and he wasn’t entirely sure that Remus wasn’t fucking with him about it.

“Why did you throw her if you’re trying to preserve her?” Virgil said, but he tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. In fairness, it didn’t look too damaged by the blow. It would take a lot to change the kindness Remus showed the doves, as roughly as he showed it.

“I thought you’d catch her, emo! It would have been a beautiful moment!” he protested, throwing his grey eyes open wide.

Virgil took a deep breath and nodded. “You know what? Yeah, maybe it would have been. But you forget-”

“Fight or flight,” Remus filled in. He shrugged. “I guess that makes sense.”

As usual, he was dressed in as many layers as he could be, with only a hint of pale skin showing on his face and through a pair of fingerless gloves he had cut himself. Everything else was an amalgamation of black and brown leather, denim, flannel, a puffy coat, a long flowing skirt in leopard-print, and fishnet tops over cotton T-shirts, leaving barely any Remus-outline at all. It didn’t matter what the weather was; his outfit might change components, but it never revealed so much as his neck.

Everyone had their reasons, Janus would quietly say at almost anything their customers said or did. It wouldn’t have crossed their minds to ask why he covered himself so much, but it was something Virgil couldn’t help but wonder about sometimes.

Maybe Janus was right and Remus was handsome, but his face was so obscured by his moustache, stubble, and makeup in purple and green- or whichever colours he felt like- that he seemed to be aiming for ‘gives you a headache after you look at him too long’ more than anything else.

His hair was almost literally a bird’s nest. He had completely rejected offers of a hairbrush or a comb, insisting he preferred it the way it was. The third co-owner of the cafe, Remy, with whom he was staying at the moment, had made many attempts to detangle his hair, all of which had been met with screaming and gnashing of teeth. After each clash, Remy would send Virgil a barrage of complaints by text. But while Janus had offered for Remus to stay at his own apartment, Virgil and Remy had made a mutual decision to save them from 24/7 pining by volunteering instead. Janus had refused even considering dating him the very first day he had barged his way into the cafe- and into its founder’s affection. As long as Remus came to them for food and shelter, it would be an unfair balance of power.

Remus reached into an inner pocket of his coat and slid a purple pin with a spider silhouette on it over to Virgil. “You could stab this into those big brown eyes of yours,” he said, widening his own at the barista.

“Sweet, thanks,” Virgil said, pinning it onto his apron string. It did match with his spider-web hair design. “Then I won’t have to look at Janus getting flustered any more.”

Remus grinned at Janus, who was trying to act as if he’d been so invested in carefully holding the pigeon that he hadn’t heard. He leaned on the counter and dropped his voice into a stage-whisper. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “I think he’s sexy.”

“That’s disgusting,” Virgil whispered back. “I’m going to throw up in your coffee.”

He shrugged. “I’d still drink it. Then I’d just be able to judge you based on your stomach bile.”

“You’d be so fucking impressed by my stomach bile,” Virgil retorted. “It’s so acidic from anxiety it would kill you immediately.” He turned to start wiping down anywhere the pigeon had even possibly touched.

“Bartender!” Remus yelled in an exaggerated English accent, banging on the counter. “Bartender! I would like a coffee and a sandwich, please!”

“One moment, my dear,” Janus said in a more passable impression, opening up the freezer door and placing the tiny corpse into an empty ice-cream container well away from the rest of the food. “I’m just cryopreserving- what’s her name?”

"Her name is Loki,” Remus supplied, his voice dropping to a matter-of-fact tone which was surprisingly tender coming from him. “She's good at stealing chips from tourists. And flying and shitting at the same time.”

Janus threw away his gloves, thoroughly washed his hands, then made a small note: "Loki: not for consumption." He glanced up at Remus so he could see the note, who repaid him by throwing his head back so he could laugh. Janus' mouth quirked into a snicker too, and the rest of the coffee shop seemed to fall away from the two looking at each other.

"We're going to get a violation," Virgil interrupted, because that was the expression of a Janus who would complain and pretend not to pine for hours after Remus left. He turned on the coffee machine to hopefully distract from the moment. "It's a dead fucking animal."

"So is the rest of the meat," Janus dismissed without looking at him. "And it is wrapped up and away from the rest of the food."

Ever since Virgil had joined the team and the cafe had begun to establish itself as a firm success, the city council had done everything in its power to shut it down. Each time, the cafe had won, even if their most recent fight was one of the most nerve-racking experiences of his life, and their personal lives had been dragged through the dusty carpet of every courtroom in the city. Each step of the way, Janus insisted that the risk was worth it.

After all that, Virgil was not letting the cafe close on account of a dead bird, as skilled a thief as she might have been.

"It’s a pest animal you let in here," he insisted.

Janus dismissed him with a shrug. "Come now, so is Remus."

The customer grinned. "You flatter me, rattlesnake." His eyes traced Janus' face as they scrunched up with joy. "Can you tell me about Dodgy Knees again?"

He closed his eyes as if pained. "Diogenes! Diogenes! I'll break your knees if you mispronounce-"

"Kinky!"

He rolled his eyes fondly. “Oh, is that so?”

So Virgil tried to ignore the disaster scenario of the cafe being shut for good, fixed a cup of coffee and a sandwich for Remus, and somehow got caught into a conversation about the pros and cons of leaving society to go feral in the woods.

“No, I do agree, but wolves-”

The door rattled, and an older white man with salt-and-pepper hair and a pinstripe suit walked in. He wasn’t entirely out of place amongst the clientele, but he honestly looked more like the businessmen in some of the cartoons Janus had papered one wall with. Remus ignored the bell as he leant his elbows on the counter, gesturing with his sandwich as he talked to Virgil while the barista came up to the register.

“How can I help you today?” Virgil asked the man, who was glancing around the decor. That type of customer was almost certainly drawn by the coffee, all blends hand-picked by Remy.

“I’ll be in and out in just a moment,” he replied with a small smile, and Remus stopped talking. “An espresso to go, please.”

Virgil nodded. “Sure, a moment-”

A blush crept up Remus’ cheeks, and he ducked his head with uncharacteristic shyness. As the man caught his eyes his entire expression softened, the hard lines of his face seeming to melt as his lips parted slightly, like he would say something. But, for once, he was speechless.

Janus looked as though he had been slapped in the face. “Are you acquainted?” he asked, in such a casual tone that Virgil knew he was deeply hurt. He arched an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

“I- yes, I believe we are,” the customer gave a genial smile in return, his eyes fixed on Remus’. “Some time ago.”

Janus’ eyes narrowed. “Where do you know him from, Remus?”

There was a crinkle of plastic and leather as Remus shrugged. “Long story,” he said distantly.

Virgil slid a cup of coffee over to the man, who tapped a black card to the card reader and gave him a quick smile. “Keep the change,” he quipped. It was a tip some ten times greater than their recommended 20%.

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled, but his focus was on his friend, who was drifting out of the door, as he tended to do at the end of a conversation. “Hey, Remus, we’ll see you later?” he called after him.

“Sure, Virgey!” he replied, giving him a quick grin before he held the door for the businessman, and the two of them walked out together. The older man ducked his head to whisper something into his ear, and Remus laughed and linked their arms as they headed into the street.

As soon as the door swung shut, a cloud settled over Janus’ expression. “Well,” he said, adjusting a sandwich which was just slightly out of line with the rest. “They say a stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet. It takes all sorts. To each, indeed, their-”

Before he could utter another saying, Virgil interrupted with a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

“And what does it look like?” Janus asked caustically. “Remus was acting unusually, yes?”

“Sometimes people get nervous,” he ventured. “If they like someone-” There wasn’t a single trait Remus said wasn’t his type; a silver fox with money was as good as any.

“Don’t say ‘like’, it’s so middle school,” he snapped, and Virgil flinched at the tone in his voice. He grabbed a cloth and headed over to a table which some regulars he knew were just vacating to wipe it down. Poor Loki’s funeral was going to be a tense event.

Except, as night fell and the cafe began to glow with the golden lights and the warmth of the ovens, and as Remy arrived to help them with the evening rush, Remus didn’t show up for the body in their freezer.

The brief liveliness Janus had shown bustling between the kitchen and the front faded as the final family trickled out. He waved away most of their offered money, seeing as it was a birthday party and he knew them, and Remy and Virgil made meaningful eye contact but didn’t protest.

As they closed, Remy filled the awkward silence with chatter about the men he was dating, the new hair product he had tried, the fact Remus never washed up when he was told to, and he was, like, so sick of it-

But no Remus appeared to defend himself, even after they left half-an-hour late and each one tried to call him.

He didn’t appear at Remy’s to sleep overnight, and he didn’t come into the cafe at all the next day.

That next night, Janus disappeared into the back, leaving Virgil to clean up by himself.

His stomach was upset, and he couldn’t help but think about that man over and over.

Long story- what exactly did “long story” mean?

Remy used the phrase when it really was a complicated story full of exes and rumours and friends of friends-

Virgil used it when he was asked why he didn’t speak to his family any more.

But he’d never seen Remus look like that before, and the guy had seemed nice- and there was an obvious suggestion for why his friend was busy overnight.

He realised he’d been wiping down the same table for the past five minutes.

“Virgil,” Janus said quietly behind him.

“Yeah?” he turned, and his brow immediately furrowed at his friend’s sombre expression.

He had his phone in one hand, and his hat in his other. “I’m going to ask you for a favour,” he said slowly. “You are quite free to decline it.” He paused. “I want to go to the house of the man who Remus went out with, and check that he’s alright.”

“I...don’t know that’s a good idea,” he said, twisting the spider badge on his apron so he could avoid the weight of his friend’s expression. “I mean...it could be an invasion of Remus’ privacy, if that was an old friend or-” Scared of causing further upset, he tilted his head to fill in ‘something else’.

“Yes, I know.” He sighed, looking out into the night through their plate-glass windows. “You know I’m not one for hunches-”

“Eh, you turned out a guy for being an undercover cop in like two seconds because he asked about ‘The Antifa’-”

Janus gave him a look with almost the level of exasperated fondness Remus engendered, and Virgil fell silent.

“I’m not one for hunches, but I’m usually right when I have them, then,” he finished lightly. “I have a very bad feeling, and a Google Search for anyone in the town who could possibly have a black card doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Anxiety coagulated in his stomach, but he tried for his final hope. “Are you sure it’s not...jealousy?”

He gave him a long, tired look. “The thought has never even been a worry of mine,” he said drily. “Still, I can go by myself, and make my own self a bother, worse, a fool.”

And it wasn’t really a question at all whether Virgil would let that happen. “Two of us is just a bother,” he replied with a confidence he didn’t feel, unclipping his badge from his apron and slipping it into his hoodie pocket.

Janus hung up his hat and put on a neat suit jacket over his outfit. “Thank you, really-”

He shook his head, opening the door so that a rush of petrichor and tarmac washed out the pervasive smell of coffee and food from the cafe. “Let’s go.”

They walked out into the night, still damp from the earlier rains. The lights of the shops around them reflected against the wet tarmac, and music pumped out of passing cars giddy with the promise of the coming weekend. They headed to the bus stop, Janus politely greeting every person they passed, and Virgil ducking his head so he didn’t have to. He didn’t know if the people who replied were familiar to his friend from the neighbourhood, or just trying to be polite in turn.

As soon as the bus stopped with a hiss of steam, Janus led him down to the back, and sat by the window, checking the map on his phone again. “It will be some time,” he said. “But, I ask you to be patient.”

“Course.” Virgil rested his head on Janus’ shoulder and closed his eyes. “Just tell me the stop before and I’ll be...right with you.” Moving vehicles lulled him to sleep anyway, and he would just worry the whole way otherwise.

“Of course.” Janus wrapped an arm around him, so he wasn’t jolted as the bus started again.

As Virgil dozed in fits and starts, the window changed from views of convenience stores and fast food shops to blocks of apartments, to anonymous offices and retail outlets, to high-walled parks, and then houses set back from the road by sweeping drive-ways or pavements almost as wide as the road was. Finally, his head was jostled off Janus’ shoulders, and he blinked as the stop dinged, too loud after the fog of sleep. Outside, it was pitch black but for the pools of light beneath the streetlights, and the golden glow which the mansions kept far behind barred gates.

They stumbled off the bus, and Janus checked his phone just once more before they headed off down one of the identical sides of the road.

Virgil pulled his hoodie close around him against the night chill. He considered putting his hood on to protect his ears from the nipping wind, but they were already two black men alone in a very white neighbourhood. It wasn’t worth it when his stomach was already rolling with anxiety. He rubbed his thumb over the badge in his pocket and tried to breathe the cold air in 4-7-8. They walked over empty roads, past rows and rows of similar houses, until they turned a corner and cars lined the road, piling into a single driveway which was illuminated like a Christmas lights display. A few fancily-dressed guests stood by the cars, but most of the noise came from inside. The house towered even its neighbours, and was built in the faux-Classical style which he hated.

Janus checked the address against his phone, then nodded. “That’s it. What did you call those, again? False temples?”

“Temples to dumb rich Americans and bad architecture,” Virgil supplied with a quirk of his lips.

“Quite right,” he replied, assessing the entrance. “And in all likelihood, Remus is stuck inside with his…”

“Yup.” He looked between his own patchwork hoodie and Janus’ dapper suit. “Maybe you could sneak in, but I definitely wouldn’t fit in.”

He straightened, and adjusted his bowtie. “Then we’ll go around the back,” he replied.

Virgil shook his head. “Nope, nope, nope, that’s- Jesus Christ, no, that’s a great way to get arrested or even shot. No.”

“Virgil,” Janus said quietly. “These past two months, Remus has visited us every day except that brief time after the fight over the milk cartons, or whatever it was-”

“I asked him to clean up a drop of milk and he poured the rest of the carton over my kitchen,” he said sourly, which he felt he was entitled to despite the situation.

“Yes, yes,” Janus dismissed. “Anyway- he always comes, doesn’t he? So now-”

“I have a really, really bad feeling- and bad thought, and bad everything-” he protested, backing away from the gate.

An orange sports car swerved past them, and parked horizontally across the driveway, and a young white man in a tracksuit the same colour as his car leapt out and gave them a wide grin. “Hey! Hey! Hello!” he yelled, and flashed them peace signs, to which Janus replied with a pained smile and Virgil a small wave. “Everything’s started- have they done the fireworks yet? Or the, shit, thing with the melted chocolate and it flows-”

“Chocolate fountain,” Janus supplied with the smile he reserved for his more aggravating customers. He slipped his arm into Virgil’s and pulled them forwards. “We were hoping to arrive for that too, ah-?” He waited for the man to supply his name, but instead-

“I like your hair!” he said to Virgil, admiring the spider web design. “Rad!”

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied, subtly trying to pull them backwards as Janus marched him to the door after the guest. “Your car is...yeah, that sure is a car.”

“Sure is!” he replied with a blindingly white smile. He flashed something at a bodyguard at the door- who had sunglasses, earpiece, everything- Virgil noted with a sickening thrill of fear.

“And your friends, sir?” the bodyguard asked.

“Yeah, yeah!” The guest tossed his car keys at his chest and headed through to a foyer filled with well-cut suits and low-cut dresses, champagne glasses and trays of canapes. Marble floors reflected the lighting, which glinted out from chandeliers above. A wide staircase glided up to the hidden upper floors.

“Oh, hey! Hey, you!” the young man yelled as soon as he got in, bounding over towards a woman who greeted him with a grin, raising her glass like a toast.

Janus and Virgil just blinked at each other. “Are you...sure?” Virgil asked quietly. “Remus is here?”

“I’m honestly not so sure any more,” Janus muttered to him. “But let’s not rely on whatever chemicals are keeping our dear friend happy, and start looking around.”

They moved through a throng of people and out into a wide ballroom, filled with yet more guests and a live string quartet playing in one corner. Along with the music was the trilling of occasional birdsong from tropical birds fluttering inside several oversized golden cages dotted around the room. A few others held white marble statues, but they couldn’t compare to the shifting flurries of reds, blues, and greens. Without agreeing on it aloud, the friends first went over to a small party congregated by one of them, in case the birds had attracted Remus.

“No, but then I said-” A balding man was proclaiming. “I said, Rudy, that’s not the Dow Jones Industrial Average at all.”

The group burst into laughter, Virgil gave Janus a bemused look, and they moved on.

Everyone was well-dressed, in sparkling necklaces or ties in jewel colours or even in more casual clothes, like the man from the sports car, which still seemed to drip wealth. Wearing sneakers with a suit wasn’t that fancy a look, but when even Virgil recognised that pair from an ad campaign for a luxury fashion line which would come out next month, he guessed it didn’t matter. Nobody looked at them twice. Still, there was nobody dressed in the contents of an entire rummage-sale bin with purple eyeshadow used as contour.

“There-” Janus whispered- “Is that?”

They both froze as they watched a man with a moustache waltz past in the arms of a lady dressed in black. It wasn’t Remus.

Virgil scanned the room again, eyes passing over the gilded cages, and the tropical birds and statues inside them- nobody in the crowd admiring them was any business of his-

As they parted, the figure inside the tallest gold cage became clear. It shifted position- an animatronic? He looked more closely as it moved after everyone had turned away, fiddling with golden chains around its-

“Oh God-” he whispered. “Look.”

Virgil was an avowed atheist, but if the person inside the cage wasn’t a statue, he must have been an angel. His shining hair was cut short to show of the clean marble lines of his face. His chest was sculpted too, covered in scars which looked like they must have come from a golden sword like the one he was gripping. He looked as if he would swing it into position if not for the gold chains wrapped around his arms, tethering him to the delicate bars of the cage. He was gazing out into the distance.

Most striking of all, dove-grey wings crested over his shoulders and trailed all the way down to his ankles. His white tunic contrasted the hints of pale purple, pink and blue shimmering in his wings.

It was one of the most beautiful sights Virgil had ever seen.

He glanced at Janus for his reaction.

He found only an expression of absolute horror. Janus was completely silent for a moment, struggling for words, before he gasped. "Oh, Remus- what did they do to you?”

A cold feeling washed over him.

No- those were their friend's grey eyes, and that was the shape of his face, stripped of his facial hair and usual tacky makeup. No wonder Virgil hadn't recognised him.

Compared to the usual chaotic spark in his expression, he looked blank. As if his mind was somewhere else entirely- or like he'd been drugged.

Still, Virgil couldn’t help but be drawn back to his wings; they were hyper-realistic, even twitching as he tried to tense his shoulders to alleviate the pressure of the chains on his arms. And the amount of feathers it would have taken to make that shifting, downy gradient...not even all of Remus’ flock had that many. It was compelling, but sickening.

It felt wrong to look over his arms and legs when he was usually so adamant about covering them, so he dropped his eyes and tried to erase the knowledge of how muscled Remus was beneath his usual shapeless outfit.

It wasn’t that Virgil found his friend attractive exactly, but with wings like that, dressed like that- he was a centerpiece, clearly, and even as his stomach churned with the wrongness of the display, it was a palpable effort to keep his gaze from snapping back to him. “I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered to Janus.

“He’d never, ever choose to dress himself like that in front of everyone," Janus whispered, anger crackling red at the edges of his quiet voice. "And even if he did, he’d never shave off his moustache.”

He shook his head. “So...what do we do?”

In response, Janus sauntered over to the left, took a champagne flute from a waiter, and then gestured for his friend to follow. They zigzagged through the crowd until they got closer to Remus, whose eyes remained glazed and distant.

They stopped just by him. Up close, it was clear the tunic was some kind of cotton material, and the sword had blunted edges. He was wearing makeup too, and a lump in his mascara made Virgil feel another sharp pang of pity. As ridiculous as painting them on would have been, how real the scars looked in comparison to the rest of the outfit was jarring. He was built and scarred like a fighter, and all the little touches to make him look delicate only emphasised how roughened he was. Both were at odds with everything he knew of his friend.

“Remus,” Janus whispered. The name fell like a plea. “Remus, it’s us.”

All of a sudden, the man’s eyes snapped to them, his expression melting into disbelief. “Remus?” he echoed. It was as quiet as a whisper from a crypt. “You know him?”

“You’re-” Janus’ face fell. “Remus, that’s you-”

The man almost imperceptibly shook his head. “Twins, we’re twins- you know him? Please, is he okay?” He looked almost identical, though up close the differences began to stand out. He was probably more muscular, but who could tell under all of Remus’ clothes? The main differences were a gap between this twin’s front teeth and, more than that, his eyes. Even as he looked at them desperately, there was something missing from them, some jolt of hope or excitement which just wasn’t there. Their heaviness was an uncomfortable weight on Virgil’s face.

He wrapped an arm around himself. “Sorry, he went missing-”

“But we tracked the man he left with back here,” Janus filled in. “Isn’t he here too?”

The man shook his head again. “No, I- I’ll earn more information, after this. I don’t know anything,” he whispered. “I just know he found him, and he wants him to come back without a fight.”

Virgil never should have just watched as that man walked Remus out of the coffee shop. Long story his ass- “What the fuck is happening?”

Remus’ twin tried to shrug and then winced as the movement tugged on the chains. His wings fluttered with the movement. “They just tranqued us the first time. I don’t know why he’s delaying recapture-” He took a deep breath. “Just tell him to run away as soon as he can.” His grey eyes hardened to steel. “He might as well keep doing it.”

“I will if I can find him, thank you.” Janus took a small sip of his champagne. “What exactly was the capture for, if I can ask?”

The captive glanced around the room, and at the movement Virgil cut his eyes to the side. Nobody watched that he could see. “The wings, of course,” he said with a bitter smile. “Yes, yes, they’re real, go ahead and look at them.”

Janus’ eyes widened, subtly taking in the wings.

“My name’s Roman,” he continued in a low, urgent voice. “Tell him that Roman said to run, okay? Don’t listen to any of their offers or threats. I’m not a gladiator anymore; I’m here instead. It’s...not too bad.”

As Janus opened his mouth, Roman shook his head. “Don’t talk to me too long.”

“We can get you out,” Virgil said before he knew what he was thinking. “Whatever this is-”

“Go,” Roman insisted. “It’s not worth trying to do anything for me. And don’t call the police-”

Janus rolled his eyes. “You really don’t need to worry about that.”

“Fine.” he lifted his eyes to the middle distance again. “You should go now. Please.”

Virgil gave a little nod, taking Janus’ arm. “Okay. We’re gonna go.”

“Thank you,” Janus added. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then let Virgil lead him away.

He steered them back through the ballroom with their backs to Roman, trying not to glare into the eyes of each of the guests they passed. It would almost have been easier if there was a big fuss and show about the captive man, rather than the chatting and dancing and gossiping with, oh, a living being as a conversational curiosity-

As they came back into the entrance, Janus began to turn towards the sweeping staircase.

“No,” Virgil said under his breath, trying to tug him back to the doorway. “No fucking way. I know you’re angry but-”

“I’m not angry,” he replied coolly. “I am, rather, curious. Because I don't think they tell everything to Roman, and we’re not going to get luck like this again. Any information will help.”

He glanced up at where the staircase twisted out of sight. If Remus was up there, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. And, despite his words, Janus was throw-ignorant-customers-out-of-the-cafe mad. Except, he wasn’t quoting memoirs of increasingly obscure activists or putting neat yellow gloves on in warning, so Virgil didn’t know what he would do.

On cue, Janus reached into his breast pocket and drew out the gloves. He slipped one on, tugging it into place. “Better for fingerprints, and more neat.” He glanced at Virgil. “You don’t have to come with me, in fact it may be better if you didn’t.”

It wasn’t fair for Janus to pull on his ridiculous gloves like a boxer about to face a much bigger opponent, and ask him not to fight by his side. Even if Virgil had decided to leave the party, it wouldn’t have been fair.

“I will,” he said, tucking his hands into hoodie paws. His heart was thumping against his ribcage as if it would break out- that was a thought to tell Remus when they saw him. “I’m gonna complain about it afterwards.”

Despite his apparent composure, it took Janus a moment too long to answer as his eyes traced Virgil’s face. “Of course.” He took his arm. “Shall we?”

He was half-expecting an alarm to blare as soon as they set foot on the first stair- but nobody noticed. They took another few steps, feet sinking into the thick red runner. The back of his neck prickled with stares, but he knew from long experience that those were imagined. Or were they? No, that was anxiety. Janus’ hand tightened on his forearm and he stopped. Above, someone paced past on a wooden floor in the measured rhythm of a guard. He gagged.

“Deep breaths,” Janus murmured.

“I hate this,” he replied. Then he forced a breath in his nose and out of his mouth.

After the footsteps faded, they kept walking until Virgil moved his heavy boot onto the polished wood floor as gently as possible. Identical two-panel white doors stretched along the hallway without any noticeable distinction, until the corridor took a right turn at the end of the row.

“You take the left, I’ll take the right,” Virgil whispered, and Janus nodded.

With their footsteps echoing almost too loud on the floor, they each crept to the far ends of the hallway. There was nothing beyond the corner except another staircase, and thankfully no more doors.

He tried the door handle on the far right with his sleeve over his hand, and it turned. He nudged it open and peeked in to see a huge bedroom strewn with suitcases and clothes, and a sparkling necklace of diamonds carelessly draped over a black dress. But no Remus. He shut it and moved onto the next.

Locked. The next was too. His hands were shaking like there was a motor in them.

He closed his eyes and leant his head against the wall, trying to ground himself in the sensation. Okay. Next one- unlocked.

It was a bathroom, all white marble and gold like downstairs. He closed the door and glanced over to Janus, who shook his head.

He glanced at the staircase before crossing the corridor and turning the handle of the middle door slightly.

A voice rose behind the door, deeper and smoother than Remus’. “Hello?”

Virgil reached in desperation for the next door handle as footsteps sounded from inside, and tugged it open in time for Janus to walk in quickly and efficiently in the rhythm of the security guard. He followed with a few strides, shutting the door behind him in with a fumbled click. The room was an empty guest bedroom. Janus was hiding himself under the bed before Virgil caught his arm and pulled him out. He headed to the big sliding window.

“Please, please-” he whispered to himself, trying to lift it. Locked, locked, oh God-

Janus searched the mantelpiece for a moment before pressing a cold key into Virgil’s hand. He tried to put it in but his hands were shaking too badly and he couldn’t-

Janus took it off him. It fit with a click.

Virgil pushed up the window in a rush of cool air. He climbed out onto the little ornamental balcony running between a few windows and stood flat to the wall, chest heaving, before Janus followed with a tumble. He reached over and shut the window while Janus crouched down below the sill. The room was still empty.

Virgil slid down the wall, trembling hands over his mouth. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he was sure he would be sick-

Janus had curled into a ball, forehead to the stone of the balcony.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that.

After a while, they ended up both sitting side by side in the space between the two windows, hands twisted together. It was silent.

Virgil glanced back into the room. “It’s empty,” he whispered. “We should leave.”

Janus nodded. “One moment-” He crept towards the other window and peeked in the bottom before he dropped to the ground, hand over his mouth.

Virgil widened his eyes. On cue, his heart finished its brief rest.

Janus pointed to his suit jacket, then made a rectangle shape with his fingers. Virgil frowned. His friend repeated the gesture, and it clicked. Black card.

He so, so badly wanted to run now, but instead he crawled over to poke Janus in the side so he would move over to give him space by the window. Their eyes met, and Virgil pulled his hood over his cold ears to settle in for a wait. He kept his head down, pillowed on his forearms, while Janus risked peeking up every few minutes.

Suddenly, Janus grabbed his arm. Virgil lifted his head. He could just about see Roman standing in the doorway, rubbing at the deep red marks around his forearms, and the captor leaning back in a leather armchair holding a glass.

Janus put his hands up to the window-

“Janus,” Virgil hissed, but then the window slid a crack upwards and voices travelled through.

“Quite the party, wasn’t it?” the captor said, pouring himself a drink.

Roman nodded too quickly. “Yeah,” he said in a hoarse voice, attempting a smile which didn’t reach his eyes, which were fixed on a closed silver laptop on a side table. “Yes, it was...very grand!”

He rolled his eyes. “What did you think of the decor?”

“Quite magnificent! Like a- an aviary in a palace.” His wings were trembling as though there were a breeze running through them.

Tilting his head and looking Roman up and down, the captor spoke just as genially as he had in the cafe. “You really aren’t as interesting as your brother was. Too many blows to the head, no doubt.”

Roman’s mouth tightened. His fists had too.

Against the deep, comfortable, red-brown tones of leather and what must have been genuine mahogany, and the backs of books all bound neatly and sticking out of the shelf as though frequently read, Roman’s outfit stood out as even more fake. Gold accents in the sandals he was wearing matched the subtle gold trimmings of the room, but if the study were a convincing stage, Roman looked like a badly cast understudy.

The captor laughed. “Predictable. This isn’t the fighting pits.”

Virgil and Janus shared a look before watching again.

“Your brother’s been living like a tramp and he’s still more beautiful than you are, under all the mess,” he commented, as casually as if he was observing the weather. Roman’s eyebrows drew together, watching for the end of the statement. He brought up a hand to cover a scar along the edge of his neck. “He’s not as scraped up as you, of course. And he really-” He swirled his whiskey for a moment before taking a sip of it. “He really is genuine. You can imagine worse things than this, can’t you?”

He paused, then nodded.

He shrugged. “He can’t. That’s the difference.”

Janus grabbed Virgil’s hand. He curled over and pressed it to his own forehead. Virgil rested his hand on his back and bent to whisper in his ear. “Hey, only I need to listen, so-”

He shook his head and Virgil cut off, peeking back over the windowsill.

For just a moment Roman glanced at the window before he asked, “So, where is Remus anyways?” He seemed to freeze as he waited for the answer, a statue once again.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He held his hand out and Roman looked at him blankly. “The laptop,” he snapped.

“Oh!” He grabbed it from the side table and tried to hand it over from a distance.

He took it and flipped it open. Roman stepped back immediately, hopping from one foot to the other like a boxer. Virgil felt himself tapping on Janus’ back in sympathy.

The captor flipped the screen open and typed for a moment before he began to read something. Virgil felt Janus’ chest go still.

The captor laughed. “Oh, would you look at that- “Queer Eye’s Karamo Brown urged to cut ties with Salvation Army”.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing worse than a hypocrite- did you know about this?”

Remus’ brother’s jaw tensed and he shook his head.

He carried on reading for a little while, tutting, and then switching to another tab. “Okay, fine- come and look.”

He crossed the room to stand behind the man, hands gripping onto the back of the sofa as if he would fall over without its support.

“Don’t touch the furniture.” With a roll of his eyes, he reached his hand behind him, twisted his hand into his captive’s wing- then tugged. As he pulled a handful of feathers away Virgil winced, but Roman only reacted with a tightening of his hands. Then he took a measured step back from the couch.

“You know,” the captor said so softly that Virgil had to strain to hear him. “You know, Remus would have cried and cried at that.” He scattered the feathers, spotted with blood, over the floor. “That, or started swearing- and the crying would come after that.”

“You’ve told me before,” Roman snapped. As soon as he spoke, he froze again. “Oh, uh- I’m sorry-”

The laptop clicked shut. “I asked you to behave this evening,” the captor said, getting up and tucking it under his arm. Virgil and Janus crouched down further. For some reason, a tiny chip in the stone paving caught Virgil’s eyes. A tiny fissure ran from it into the rest of the solid slab. “That meant all of this evening.”

“Please-” His voice broke, and pitched high it sounded like Remus’. Janus’ hand tightened on Virgil’s until it hurt.

“Out.”

Virgil tugged on Janus’ hand and bent his head to his ear. “C’mon, we need to go.”

Janus looked up. His eyes were shining, and at the same time Virgil felt like a monster for not crying and a sharp annoyance that his friend had given into his emotions. He took a deep breath, and both feelings passed. He tugged on his hand again. “Okay, time to go,” he whispered.

He decided not to risk closing the window while the man was still in the room, just nudging Janus to the side. They crept across the balcony, slid up the far window, and climbed through one after the other, painfully slow.

They padded through the empty room, then opened the door and slipped out together. Downstairs, the last of the party guests were trailing out, either upright with exhaustion shining in their eyes to match the sparkle of their jewels, or with the help of a few discreet employees supporting champagne-soggy legs. Wordlessly, Janus slung his arm over Virgil’s shoulder, and he let his friend lean on him as they passed security and walked down the long drive to the dark street. He was heavy, but Virgil was careful not to stumble.

They carried on walking that way until the corner, when Janus straightened up and adjusted his jacket. Still, they crossed the road side-by-side and didn’t speak.

As they walked, the bottom of the sky was being washed out into greyness. The houses were unlit now, and they looked smaller in the dark. It just barely smelt of metallic dew. Virgil thought he might start screaming if he opened his mouth.

They reached the bus station sooner than expected. There was half-an-hour before the first early-morning bus. With a huff of air, he sat down on the pavement and leaned his back against the pole.

“Well that was just what we expected, wasn’t it?” Janus said lightly. He stayed standing, facing the mansion they had come from. Virgil looked up at him in silence. “I’m going to murder that man,” he continued in the same tone. “The security for that house is shocking. I’m sure it isn’t that hard. Perhaps I should let the twins do it, though.”

He nodded. “I’ll help bury the body.”

“You know, Virgil,” Janus met his eyes. “You really are the best friend anyone could ask for.”

"What?" he mumbled as he looked down. "He was a dick."

"Come now, you also broke into the house of someone connected to illegal fighting rings whose interior decoration tended to the alive and miserable.”

Heat flooded into his face. “Least I can do.”

“Quite a bit more than the least.” His lips quirked into a smile. “Especially for someone who was terrified of talking to customers a year ago.”

"Oh, shut up." He poked Janus' neat brogue with his boot. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes here figured out the whole thing anyway." His chest felt funny, and he hugged his arms around it.

"Well, Watson," He took a deep breath and decided to stop tormenting Virgil with his tenderness. "I have our final deduction- the man had no clue where Remus is."

"Really?"

Janus shook his head. “He was just looking for an excuse for Roman to slip up the whole time. Taunting him, the furniture, physically hurting him- it was all trying to push him to some tiny ‘infraction’ so he could bluff about the information.”

“Huh.” He replayed the events and nodded slowly. “Sure, I can see that. Still, we don’t know if he’s always like that. He didn’t deny the information when Roman touched the furniture- which is a fucked up rule, Jan- I don’t know if him not saying where Remus is was an excuse at all. He said Remus was better than his brother, and he gets pissed when you suggest cutting those clumps out of his hair. He must have been-” He regretted saying it to Janus, but it was deduction time. “He must have been really- cruel to him for Remus to act anything like Roman. He enjoys being cruel, clearly.”

“You’re right.” He twisted the finger of his glove. “Still, surely telling Roman about how scared Remus was would upset him. And he didn’t, so something doesn’t add up.”

Well, his intuition hadn’t lied before. “So what do we do?”

“We find Remus first.” He straightened his shoulders. “Remy would have texted if he went back to the apartment, we can assume he’s not at the cafe since he was found there, and he could have gone to his usual parks and streets but if he’s being watched he wouldn’t. So, where would he go?”

“It wouldn’t be anywhere with a lot of people,” Virgil added. “Or maybe even with a lot of birds, since they all come to him. Somewhere abandoned?”

Janus nodded. “I think we could check out some of the old warehouse districts.”

He nodded. “Sounds like a start. That one’s only ten minutes after the home one.”

They waited quietly, each caught up in their own thoughts. The bus to their district began trundling past until it slowed down for them and the door opened.

Janus shook his head at the driver. “Sorry, we’re not coming.”

She began to close the doors again without comment.

“Wait!” Virgil waved at her. “Wait a moment! Wait-”

She stopped with a huff almost as loud as the bus’ exhaust. Janus let Virgil pull him through the door by his hand, tapping his card dutifully.

He raised an eyebrow as they stumbled into some seats.

“Where’s the place we were talking about running to just before, uh, bird-friend left?” Virgil whispered, even though he doubted the tired commuters would be listening in for names and details. “And where can you bury the kind of bird friend in our freezer? And where wouldn’t be a place you’d search?”

“The forest?” he replied. There was only a scrubby patch of it outside the city.

“Yup. Look, we should go back to the cafe to get Loki, anyone asks and we’re just, you know, getting rid of the health violation in the fridge in a way which isn’t a health risk to a park or anything.”

Janus stifled a yawn. “That’s very smart.”

“Thanks, it was kinda impulsive, but-” Virgil shrugged as he looked out the window at the unrelenting row of houses. “I’m happy to be out of there.” He tucked his arm around his friend. “And you can nap until we get there.”

“I’m just fine, Virgil,” Janus replied, affronted. “Besides, I don’t want to rumple my outfit.”

Virgil gave an exaggerated yawn himself, and Janus immediately followed. He glared at him, which only made Virgil give him a small grin. “Bedtime.”

He was met with a head thunking onto his shoulder. “You had better wake me up in time,” he threatened.

“I will.” He readjusted so he was more comfortable. “We’ll be fine.”

*

By time they reached the cafe the sky was white and grey. Virgil waited by the bus stop, leaning his head against it as a half-asleep Janus unlocked the front. After enough time for Virgil to consider if he could sleep upright (five minutes), he reappeared with a canvas bag with a rainbow flag hand-printed on it, and a stack of three sandwiches, which he handed to Virgil.

The bus came soon after, and they collapsed into one of the back seats.

They had barely finished the sandwiches by the time they reached their next stop. They got out onto a cracked bit of sidewalk and looked at the trees rising above them. Silent, they walked forward until the concrete suddenly ended.

Virgil breathed in the stench of wild garlic and dug his toe into the slimy layer of dead leaves. Damp air curled in his mouth as though it would die peacefully there. Something chittered in the distance, and then cut off suddenly. He tried to tilt his head up to look at the trees and suddenly the vertigo of only sleeping for a few hours on the bus journeys hit him.

It was a world away from the gilded cage and the dizzying party.

He took a deep breath. “This feels right.”

Janus nodded. He tucked the bag under his arm carefully. “I hope…” he trailed off softly. “Well, Virgil, let us venture onwards.”

He touched his friend’s elbow for just a moment before he walked into the dark trees. After a moment, Janus followed, and they walked on together.

There was occasional litter, plastic bags and water bottles, but as they got deeper into the thick trees and tangled brambles along the forest floor it disappeared. Janus winced as he tried to lift his perfectly shone shoes over a muddy patch Virgil’s leather boots trudged through with ease. The trees were stout and gnarled, fungus protruding out of them like infections.

They wandered without any real direction, just trying to make their way further into the labyrinth of trees.

Virgil suddenly caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and he grabbed his friend’s arm.

It could have been a pile of abandoned clothes and torn out feathers-

But there was a glimpse of leopard print, and the vague outline of wings, and a low crooning coming from the figure curled there.

Janus crouched down six feet away from him, laying Loki’s bag by his side. “Remus,” he said so softly that Virgil barely heard it. “Remus, it’s Janus.”

Remus froze. Then his wings curved up around him. They were a lot taller than Janus was crouching. A pair of grey eyes came up to meet Janus’. His lips parted as he looked over the two of them. His purple and green makeup was smeared together until it looked like a black eye, and even his moustache seemed to have its own case of bed-head.

“We-” Virgil cleared his throat against a sudden lump. “Well, Janus, mostly, he found the guy’s house? And we went there, and, uh, we were worried about you so we looked.”

His eyes widened.

“We found your brother,” Janus said in a quiet voice. “Roman. He told us to tell you that he wasn’t a gladiator any more; he was there instead. That it, uh, wasn’t too bad.”

For a moment, Remus stopped breathing. Then he brought his hands up to his head, slumping his shoulders and letting his wings wrap around himself. “Bullshit,” he said hoarsely. “What else did he say?”

Janus bit his lip. “He told you to run away as soon as you could, and not to listen to anything they offered or threatened.”

Remus made a strangled yelping laugh which set Virgil’s teeth on edge. His wings were trembling so much that there was a slight breeze on his face. “Roman’s saviour goddamn hero bullshit-” He twined his fingers into his hair and started tugging. “He’s not- fuck,” he winced as he caught a matted section. “Not pathetic enough for that job.”

Janus tried to reach a hand out to untangle his hands from his hair, but Remus only stilled and leaned his head into his glove. Janus gently tugged at his wrist, but Remus wrapped his fingers around his hand and held it to his hair.

“Dude, you’re not pathetic. You broke out of that place all by yourself?” Virgil found his voice off-putting in the silence, but he kept speaking. “That’s hard. And you hid in the same town, in plain sight, for ages. And-”

“I ran away,” Remus said into his knees. “And I knew he’d get punished or die. He had to fight people. All goring out eyeballs and pulling out guts by the handful. Or the clawful. Depended on what kind of people were captured.”

“There are more people like you?”

He shrugged and, just like his brother, the movement made his wings move. “With the weird animal thing? Oh, sure. I would rather have a tentacle dick but you get what you get.” He spoke without humour.

Janus pressed a tiny kiss to the back of his hand, not seeming to care about the smear of dirt on it. “Darling, I’m sure you’re well enough endow-”

“No!” Virgil yelled, holding his hands up. “I have risked myself too many times today for you two to have to listen to that from you.”

Remus shrunk back further into a ball. “Sorry.”

For a moment Virgil was struck genuinely speechless. Then his brow furrowed. “Hey, no, I was just teasing.”

Janus turned to glare at him. He widened his eyes in response. Maybe he should have guessed Remus would be more delicate, but, well, it was Remus.

“Anyway, it’s okay, alright?” he attempted.

“Yeah, sure.” He lifted his head and smudged his makeup even more with the heel of his hand. “Fine.”

Virgil pulled the third sandwich out of his pocket and handed it over. “Figured you’d want that.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Remus took it and began to carefully undo the wrapping. He took a small bite of the corner. “Mom and Dad are normal but Roman and I just were just born this way- oh there ain’t no other way,” he sang as he shimmied his wings. “But we lived in the middle of nowhere, and we stayed at home our whole lives, even though we talked a lot about hiding ourselves so that we could move. We kept ourselves to ourselves and we had a farm.” He threw his crust to the forest floor, seemingly by habit of having his flock around him. “Hope they didn’t search there for me; that would suck. Our parents saw us get captured, so at least they know what happened.”

Janus nodded as he listened. “How long ago was that?”

“Two years.” He stuffed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth.

“Goodness,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine.”

The corners of Remus’ moustache twitched up into a smile. “Nah, you couldn’t. Thanks,” he said through the remains of his sandwich.

Virgil waited for him to finish eating.

“We brought Loki with us, in the bag,” he said. “We figured it would be a good cover, and we can hold the funeral here.” He reached into the bag to pull out a trowel. They definitely hadn’t had one in the cafe, so Janus must have stored it there after Remus disappeared.

Janus reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a bag of classic Lays. He handed them over to Remus. “I do hope the flavour’s alright. I think it’s a classic.”

“Perfect,” he muttered. He stumbled up to his feet with a wince, holding his wings out for balance. Even without them fully spread out, the wingspan blocked the entire section of tree behind him. He rolled his shoulders back and flapped his wings.

Both of them stared.

Remus grinned and widened his eyes. “I can fly, you know. I could shit on you midair like-” All at once, his face crumpled and he held a hand up to his mouth. “Sorry, it all hit me again,” he said with a voice like sandpaper.

Virgil put his hoodie sleeve over his mouth as he swallowed back a guilty laugh. He started digging into the soft forest soil to distract himself.

He heard a flutter of feathers- had he been missing that under the whisper of all Remus’ shifting clothes before? - and then sobbing into a suit jacket. It was kind of scratchy on your face, Virgil knew, but it hid tears pretty well. He moved his whole shoulder into his digging, watching a depression form as the other two murmured words of upset and comfort to each other.

“I thought it was you,” whispered Janus against the shell of Remus’ ear. “And- my heart just stopped.”

“I wish it was.” Remus leant his forehead against Janus’ chest.

“But then how would I hold you, hm?” he replied, and there was the brush of fabric on fabric. “We’ll get him out.”

“You promise?” Remus said, and Virgil’s hand clenched around the handle. It wasn’t a good idea to-

“Promise. Split my chest open with a pickaxe and hope to pickle my heart.”

There was a wet laugh. “Kinky.”

“Come now, that was romance as well as kink.” His best friend’s voice was unbearably soft.

A warm feeling settled in Virgil’s chest despite the chill of the weather. Dammit. He stabbed the trowel into the ground again, ignoring the wetness in his own eyes.

He kept digging, until a set of feathers nudged into his face. “Did you poke me from all the way over there?” Virgil asked incredulously. Remus’ wing was as wide as he was tall, and he used it to poke him in the cheek again. It was a little disconcerting to see how much it moved like, well, a limb of his.

A feather brushed over the tears on his cheek. The wing retracted, and Remus came over to kneel by him and take the trowel. He sunk it into the ground, gouging out a huge section of earth with a small battle-cry. He flung it over his shoulder rather than adding to Virgil’s careful pile and then grinned at him.

A smile tugged at his mouth as he reached for the bag. “I think you finished the grave.”

He carefully wrapped the pigeon in the canvas bag Janus had chosen for her and handed it to Remus.

He looked at the little bundle in his hands for a long moment. Then he took her out of the bag. He began to unwind the plastic wrap.

Janus winced.

“That’s not clean-” Virgil whispered.

“It’s going to pollute the forest otherwise,” he replied without looking away from the corpse in his hands. “This is more natural. Besides, they’re pretty clean birds.”

So they watched in silence as he carefully took it all off and placed her in the grave. She was still intact, though her body had stiffened. “Thanks for being here, even if you were technically using her to stalk me,” he said. “Um, this was Loki. She was mischievous, and bold, and really smart. I’m going to miss her.” He cleared his throat and nodded, eyes wet. “Okay. Ready.”

Virgil scooped a handful of dirt with his trowel and scattered it over her. It pattered softly against the earth. Remus was staring hard into the distance. A few rays of sun poked through the trees as he pushed the rest of the dirt back into place. “Should we leave some rocks or something?”

Janus nodded. “I can collect-”

“I thought Roman was dead until a few days ago,” Remus interrupted. It sounded like a statement from a scratchy vinyl recording. “Ghosties are easier to carry around than big living brothers who got jacked from murder. Whatever you need me to do to get him out, I’ll do it. Killing, going back- whatever.”

“I don’t need you to do those things,” Janus said firmly. “All I need you to do now is come to my apartment,” he turned to his friend. “I’m not putting you in any further danger, Virgil-”

“Bullshit.”

He paused, brow furrowing. “Beg pardon?”

“That’s bullshit,” he repeated. “This is the part where you’re you’re going to think you’re being really smart about everything,” he held his hands up, “but you stick to your principles too much and you risk yourself and maybe those two-”

“Thank you for your confidence, Virgil,” he said acidicly.

“Anyway.” This was a spectacularly bad idea. “I’m helping.”

Defensive, his voice grew more formal. “If this is about the court cases, or the job, I promise you that you owe me nothing-”

“I like you, and I like Remus, and I don’t like what’s happening.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big thing; it’s just as simple as that. Okay?”

After a moment, Janus gave a nod.

“Aw, you like me?” Remus cooed. He wiggled his shoulders and grinned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Course.”

Janus gave Remus a helplessly fond smile. “Then it’s decided. I think we could all use some sleep, then we start this evening.”

#ts fic #sanders sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #dukeceit #platonic dukexiety #hurt/comfort

[antihero-writings]

Stolen Sunlight

Fandom: Tangled | Tangled the Series | Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Summary: Arianna never thought she'd find herself afraid of a fourteen-year-old boy, but the events of Secret of the Sundrop won't seem to leave her.

She needs to talk to Varian in prison. Not for his sake...but for her own.

Character focus: Arianna and Varian

Notes: This is a fic I started writing many many years ago, during the hiatus between seasons 1 and 2. I intended to post it way back then, as a long one-shot. I continued to occasionally work on it over the years, however, it's proven one of the hardest fics I've ever written to edit, (mostly due to the amount of internal monologue).

I finally decided that probably the only way to get it actually edited and posted is to break it up into multiple chapters, despite the fact that it's essentially only one scene, and I feel like that messes with the format. Hopefully it'll help me edit, and end up making it easier for people to read too XD I might post the full version of this, unbroken up, too after I finish it. But I finally got fed up with my editing process and decided this was the only way.

I'm aware that plenty of other people have written Varian and Arianna fics over the years, but at the time I started this there weren't that many yet, and I worked so hard on this, I still wanted to post it, even if others have done things like it. Plus, I'm not sure how many people have written it this heavily from Arianna's perspective.

I hope you all enjoy it, either way! Please don't hesitate to leave a comment to let me know, if so!!

Chapter 1: Fractured Memory

Sun splinters through the castle windows, designing reflections on the newly polished floor.

When she walks into the library, her mouth drops open; The entire room gleams. That Corona sunlight bounces between the tiles, tables, and shelves like a little boy full of energy, laughing as he leaps around the room. 

It may be a royal library, but there’s usually still a layer of dust draped over everything, sealing up the gaps, and clogging up the stories. The servants try their best, but it’s hard to get into all the crevices between the shelves, the cracks between the pages. 

The tiles glitter, the shelves look new, the books don’t cough up dust when she lifts them, even a few of their bindings are mended. 

She stays a while to admire it before heading back for her room, and as she does, Arianna smiles, her gait almost dreamy—so like her daughter’s. 

Who would take such care to polish her library? She appreciates the gesture more than words can express, but she would like to say ‘thank you’ at least. 

A curious sight down the hall interrupts her wondering; a laundry cart, moving on its own. 

A very full laundry cart, that is…Cassandra doesn’t usually fill them so much.

“May I…help you?” she walks up to the cart, tilting her head, strands of hair falling to the side. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine! I got this!” the laundry cart replies. 

The ventriloquist reveals himself: a boy steps out from behind it. She guesses he must be one of Rapunzel’s friends, since she doesn’t remember seeing him here before, and he doesn’t exactly look like a royal servant, (despite the fact that he’s performing one of their jobs).

He pushes back his hair—black, with a streak of turquoise at the front—and smooths out his apron. Upon seeing her, his eyes widen with shock.

 “Oh!” he stumbles, attempting to bow too low, too quickly, “Your majesty! I-I am so sorry! I didn’t realize—!”

She laughs, holding out a hand to steady him. 

“Don’t worry. Please. I’m Arianna.”

“Oh—O-Okay. That…seems to run in the family,” he mutters beneath his breath. “I’m Varian.” He leans confidently against the laundry cart…which starts moving, so he pulls it back with all his strength before it gets out of hand.  

“Oh! Varian! Rapunzel told me about you!”

He freezes, his eyes trailing back to her, like people talking about him is usually a bad thing. “She…She has?”

“Of course!” she steps closer. “You’re the alchemist, right?”

He pauses, blinks, then his face breaks into the biggest grin. He clears his throat, rubbing fake dirt off his gloves, trying to hide his joy, as he looks back up at her. “Ten points to the lady in the crown.”

She smiles.

“Are you here for the completion today?” 

He nods. “I think I’ve got a pre-tty good chance of snagging that first prize if I do say so myself,” he pulls on his apron straps, then pauses, realizing how arrogant that sounds. “Not to uh…toot my own horn or anything. But it doesn’t seem like there’s anything like my invention in the running, so I think once Master Doctor St. Croix sees it he’ll be impressed! At least I hope so.”

“Well, if your invention is anything like the ones Rapunzel has told me about you’ll have no trouble snagging that blue ribbon.”

“Oh stop,” he flicks his wrist to wave her off, but is beaming from ear to ear. 

She notes that she may be encouraging him a little too much. The experiments Rapunzel has told her about aren’t exactly all blue-ribbon worthy. Or, perhaps they would be…if they all worked properly. At the same time, she isn’t sure labelling him as dangerous, and reckless is really fair. She and Willow had tried out their share of inventions, which often failed in a grand array of explosions. If they had worked properly, growing up wouldn’t have been as colorful. At least he was trying his best to help people with his inventions. Without the explosive failures, there was no room for fiery success either. 

 “Wait, shouldn’t you be there with the other contestants now?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says nonchalantly. “But I figured since I’m going second-to-last I’ve got a decent amount of time before I have to present. Cassi—Cassandra has agreed to be my assistant, so I’m helping her out with her lady-in-waiting duties first.”

“Don’t let her make you do all her work.” She says in a motherly way. Then gasps, “The library!” 

 He winces. “Did I do something wrong? I-I can fix it, don’t worry!”

“No, no!” she puts her hands on his shoulders, “So you were the one who cleaned it?”

“Yeees…?”

She pulls him into a hug. “Thank you so much.”—his eyes widen with shock—“I’ve never seen the place look so beautiful.” She releases him. 

“Oh!” he rubs the back of his neck and the smile turns sheepish.

“That must have taken you hours!”

“It was no big deal. Nothing a little home-alchemy can’t fix.” He says like a salesman.

“How did you do it?”

“Just a compound of my own invention,” he digs in his pocket and holds up a little, blue orb between his thumb and forefinger. “Most people don’t understand the more practical uses for alchemy.” he marches forward, hands on his hips, in a hyperbolic show of pride, making his voice sound deep, “that’s why I make it a mission to show the world the value of alchemy! To boldly go where no man has gone before!” he laughs, his pose collapsing, “Or something like that.”

No wonder Rapunzel had such nice things to say about him. There weren’t a lot of people out there who were so…genuine. People who cleaned libraries because they needed cleaning, who created solutions for problems simply because they needed fixing. 

 “Maybe one day you can teach me.”

“Really?” He drops the ball and it explodes into a sudsy mess on the already polished floor. “I mean, not that I think a queen should be doing housework! But…really?”

“Please,” she waves him off. “I wasn’t always a queen, you know. If Willow and I had had tricks like this maybe our house would have always looked like a pigsty. Sometimes I think we started going off on adventures just to get away from the smell.” She leans in closer, whispering behind her hand, “One time, I set the kitchen on fire trying to bake a birthday cake for Frederic.”

He laughs, then pauses like he isn’t sure he’s allowed to. “I guess not every queen is scared to get her hands dirty, huh?”

“Uh huh,” she puts her hands on her hips, “You should have seen the look on his face.”

“Happy birthday huh?”

“Now make sure to always send someone to Monty’s for his cake…spare us all.”

He fails to keep himself from laughing again, then pauses.

“Well… I really should be getting back to these chores. This laundry isn’t going to clean itself, amIright?” he bobs his head and walks backwards to the cart. “But it was really nice talking to you, your Maj—I mean,” he points, “Arianna.”

��Let me help you! This cart is too heavy to carry on your own.” she rushes over to the other end—he’s so thin, she’s afraid he’ll snap in two if he does all the chores by himself.

“No no!” he comes dangerously close to slapping her hands away. “I mean,” he smiles nervously, pulling his fingers close to his chest, realizing his outburst to the Queen. “I wouldn’t want you to get your…er…royal hands dirty…Right?”

She smiles. 

Well, if a little stubborn. 

“As long as you’re sure.” 

*

*

* The scene shifts, smearing like a painting left out in the rain. The reflection becomes more sinister; a glowing tower of amber, and encased within, a man reaching to the sky as if trying to catch rays of sunlight; as if light alone can break himself out of his prison of stained glass. The curtain to this godforsaken show is crumpled at the bottom. A giant machine stands in the middle of the room, made of metal, lightning, and cold, haunting music. 

The room smells like sulfur, and rust, and a lot of other chemicals she can’t quite place. Things from the earth which don’t smell natural at all. 

The same boy stands before her. The same, and yet…not the same at all. Along with the light from the windows, so too has disappeared the light from his eyes. The blue is something akin to moonlight; less the gleam of day, the reflection of the sunrise, full of hope, instead, more an eclipsed glow, shrouded by darkness. 

She feels that rusted metal, the cold in his eyes, wrap like icy hands around her ankles. 

She looks quizzically from her cuffed ankles to him. Doesn’t the warden usually cuff the prisoner’s hands? 

He seems to understand her confusion, because he answers her unasked question;

 “Please,” he scoffs. His eyes meet hers, and he smirks. The words, the smile, no longer contain compassion, they are manufactured with bite and scorn; “I wouldn’t want you to get your royal hands dirty.” 

He tugs hard on the chain, showing that it’s connected to the lab’s floor, as if saying to a toddler You’re stuck here, understand? He walks back over to his desk—littered with bottles, liquid bubbling and seething like his emotions, an array of colors that tell nothing of what they contain. 

If the color green is sleep, then what color is death? 

She looks up at the golden tower in the center of the room. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t look away. 

—Look away…like Frederic did, when people like Varian were crying out for his help against the rocks. Look away, like Rapunzel had to when the storm was coming, and Quirin was being imprisoned. Look away, like they all did after the storm passed.

 She still couldn’t believe her husband would, could do something like that. That was the reason she was here, the reason the boy was hurt, the reason…the mistake, the poorly made choice. 

No, she couldn’t think that way. Besides, she knew he had his reasons, that he wanted to make sure people didn’t panic, and he wanted to keep Rapunzel safe. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t fully understand the situation. 

And she would never blame Rapunzel. Rapunzel had had to make one of the most difficult choices of her life that day, had had to learn too much about being queen, too soon: that it was about choices, and sometimes those choices would be leaving behind the one, for the sake of the many. 

And the amber was the other reason, and that wasn’t Frederic’s fault...The amber Varian himself had mistakenly made.

Still, it would have been so easy. So easy to come back to him once the storm had ended. So easy...

So where did the fault lie, really?—

Was it amber? Was amber the color of death? Or just another kind of sleep? 

The boy’s eyes shift, glaring at her with nothing more than bitterness. 

Or was it blue? The color of the moon, a well-timed strike of lightning, an icy landscape. Was blue the color of death?

 “What are you going to do?” 

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “I’ll reveal my whole plan to you. Let me go into the tragic backstory of Varian,” he waves his hand grandly, “The poor boy, who lost his father to an experiment, a few rocks, a storm, and a princess’ broken promise.” He leans on the desk, resting his cheek in his hand in some mock-loving fashion, his eyes aimed on her like gunfire. “It’s simple; Rapunzel broke her promise.” He stands back up to his full height—which, admittedly, isn’t very high, but it’s more impressive from her place on the ground. “I tried asking nicely for her help, and I was denied.” He jabs a finger on the table to emphasize his point; the first sign of violence. “Now I’m going to ask” he smirks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes half-lidded in the dark, “not so nicely.” 

He pauses a moment, glancing at the chemicals on his desk. 

“I once said I’d teach you the ways of practical alchemy.” He reaches forward and takes up a flask. “Well, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I will show you something.”

He walked over to her, holding the flask full of something green and frothy that smells like dog breath.

Was it green? Was death’s color the same as sleep? The colors of leaves and grass and everything everyone thinks is a sign of life. ...It would be a cruel joke.

“This is a little solution I like to call…Varium.” There’s something hurt in his eyes when he says the word. “You see, when it reacts with the rocks,” he runs his fingers along the black spire jutting through the wall between them—one could be fooled into thinking in an intrigued way, but there was something harsh in his touch, resentful in his eyes, “it has this tendency to—” he held it over the stones, the liquid trickling slowly downwards in the flask, teasing her breath to catch itself and fall. He turns the bottle upright, and bites his lip, closing his eyes, willing himself not to turn around and look at what this has done before. 

What he’s done. 

“Well, you get the idea,” he mutters, returning the flask to his desk.

She doesn’t have to ask, and he doesn’t have to finish. 

“You think if you threaten me Rapunzel will work with you?” there’s a bite to her words. 

 “Ten points to the lady in the crown.” 

She pauses as he returns to work, her eyes trailing along the chain, the floor, jumping onto the windowsill—the rocks interrupting her gaze at every bend and break of the room—searching for any way out, any chance at rescue, anything her husband and daughter could use against him.

Was death black? The color everyone thinks it is. The black of these rocks, the low blue glowing beneath them, destroying his home, destroying their hearts, their chances at friendship and…It surely seemed like it. 

“She won’t, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow as if to say oh, you think?

“Rapunzel.” She tries to urge her confidence, like a stubborn pet, to come out, but it shies away by the second. “She won’t help you.”

He smiles. “You make your hypotheses, I’ll make mine.”

“And what are yours?” her own eyes are half lidded. 

He thinks over his words. “She can’t…help but help. She always had this sick compassion about her.” After a moment he adds softly, “…but only for her kingdom.”

Anger, injustice, bubble within her chest. 

 “You don’t have to be like this, you know.”

“And she didn’t have to break her promise,” he tilts his head, “ya know.”

She grits her teeth, clenches her fist. “I met you once. What happened to that boy who—”

He laughs a little, cutting her off. “Yeah, well, he learned a couple things about the real world.”

For a moment, just one brief moment, there is something there. Something in his eyes, a memory, a reaction, like the chemicals. Something real, something lost, something hurt, something…something not this. Incased within a prison of blue—

And then that moment ended.

#varian #arianna #queen arianna #tangled the series #tangled #varian the alchemist #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled fandom #tts #rta #tangled the series fanfiction #tangled the series fandom #rapunzels tangled adventure fandom #tts fandom #rta fandom #tts varian #varian tts #rta varian #varian rta #tangled varian #varian tangled #tangled arianna #arianna tangled #tts arianna #arianna tts #rta arianna #arianna rta #tangled fanfiction #varian fanfic #varian fanfiction

[georgemackayhey]

Worth Fighting For (Part : One)

summary: You're entirely certain George is the one. So he hasn't got to put up much of a fight... but in a way, that's all he knows to do.

a/n: Drum roll! I believe this is the moment you've all been waiting for! I'm really excited about this one, too yall. So just know... I'm fully committed to this fic! I cross my heart to update as often as I can, but it maaay be a little slow. I hope yall enjoy the beginning of this labor of love. Let me know what you think, and if you'd like to be tagged!

w/c: 2k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You watched as a dozen grader schoolers fumbled out of the studio door, clutching their mother's hands, some still dancing.

Every Friday, that's all they did. Your job was to teach them how. To the best of your ability, you helped kids learn to let loose through music on the weekends. You took pride in your perfectly crafted playlists and the fun patterned joggers you'd show up in; your favorite being a bright green pair that's pockets turned into dinosaurs when you pulled them out.

When you signed up to teach the weekend classes to a bunch of kids, you figured it would be the easiest job in the world. But the rambunctious group kept you on your toes in more ways than one, and always left you breathless at the end of every Friday. Still, you'd hardly have it another way. How could you wish for more?

Okay sure, maybe it would be nice to afford a car so you could get away from the dreaded city bus. And maybe you'd like to drive your hypothetical car to your very own hypothetical home in the country, one day. But all that empty space would only leave you lonely for now.

Good thing you were busy, these days. There was usually too much going on for you to think of anything besides your schedule. Between Friday dance classes with the kids, you taught private lessons to more serious paying customers. To top it all off you were often called in to choreograph all of the local school's plays and productions, community theater included.

You stayed later this afternoon, to think up a dance between a few props the school choir director dropped off for you to work with. So once your group of kids had flooded down the hall that separated the row of studios from the massive gym in the front of the building aptly named Fit For All, you got to work.

You'd been loaned a large paper mache tree and an old pirate chest to think up a dance around. As you started to move the props to the middle of the room, you found the pirate chest was much heavier than you'd expected. You cursed, using the bit of momentum you gained to pull the thing along, but lost your inadequate grip too soon. The chest came slamming down on your hand with an unsettling boom, and your shriek that followed might have been embarrassing if it didn't hurt so bloody bad.

You pushed the chest away and yanked your hand to your heart in a flash, backing up from the scene as if that would help ease the numb sting

"Y/n? What happened?" A voice thick with concern and hurried in asking echoed through the empty studio. You turned to see a friend of yours... well, someone you'd known for a while now.

George was almost always at the gym, every time you peeked in on your way to the studios in the back of the locally owned community center of sorts. The nights you both headed to the parking lot at the same time, you'd chatter about the weather as he walked to his car, before you stalled at the bus stop.

Once, when he was waiting on a ride from a friend, and your bus was late, you'd stood under the awning out of the rain and talked a little about why you were both always where you were now. George was some sort of trainer, you gathered. His jarringly shy demeanor must have put the kids he worked with at ease. But that's just nearly all you knew about the guy.

"I just- ow- I just lost my grip and-" You tried to explain calmly, gesturing to your stiffened hand with the other, trying to move the fingers that you couldn't quite feel anymore.

George took a few steps to meet where you stood, focusing his eyes on your injury. He brought a hand to your shoulder and gently nudged you out of the room while you went on explaining what happened.

What a sight you must have been. In your bright orange joggers and the t-shirt with spaceship designs you bleached to make it look a little cooler. Your hair mused loose from the tight hold you tried to keep it out of your eyes during this afternoons lesson. Dressed like you hadn't managed to let go of the past, trying not to go woozy from the way your hand pulsed with a steadily growing ache, now.

If you knew George would have been the one to swoop in to save the day, you might have at least applied a fresh layer of lip gloss.

He led you toward the gym, but entered one door too soon. Inside was a small medical station, where the athletes came to find first aid kits and tape for their wrists, but hardly much more. George found an ice pack, though, and asked you a series of questions all of which you failed to answer correctly.

"Your hand is most definitely broken."

"Thanks for coming to the rescue." You shrugged, trying not to let your new blossoming worry show.

"Come on." George waved, lingering in the door way of the tiny medic room. His sky blue eyes were ringed with hints of exhaustion as they considered you for a beat. You stared back, more anxious about the fact that he'd just given you instructions than worried about why. Then, you wondered.

"What?"

"Come on. You missed the last bus till nine."

You floated along at his command, because only a fool would deny him. Your glance crossed the clock on the wall that read a few minutes past when your bus was due at the end of every day. You weren't even thinking about getting home when Geogre pressed the icepack to your knuckles. You were too busy trying to play off the sting.

George turned to make sure you were following close behind, as he started opening the door that flooded out to the car park.

///

So that's how you ended up sitting in the waiting room of an urgent care with a melting bag of ice that's chill numbed the hand you could feel- next to George. He shoved his hands in the pocket in the front of his pale jumper and slouched next to you without a word.

When the doctor came round for you, and confirmed your hand was, of course, definitely broken- you listened to his recommendations and thanked him for the few minutes he spent assuring you the injury could be fixed much easier than most others.

George was still sat in the same lazy position when you came back from getting checked out and halfway fixed up. And when he insisted on driving you home instead of letting you linger at the nearest bus stop, you let him. But you had something else in mind...

"Are you hungry?" You asked, bouncing your knee in the passenger seat of his old, warm car. Its personality shone through the vintage detail, as it's floors and seats were empty of any kind of clutter.

"Are you?" Geogre asked back, casting his bright blue eyes to you for a second before his attention focused back on the road ahead.

"Well, yes. Come to dinner with me. I'll buy since you've been entirely too kind to me this afternoon." You grinned, hopefully. Yeah, you wanted to thank him for wasting a couple hours of his night to help you sort out your situation. But you were also mostly looking for an excuse to spend a little more time at his side.

George was painfully quiet. You hadn't gotten to know him better at all during the couple of luxurious hours he'd spent near you tonight. You were nearly more confused by the guy than you had been back when he didn't know to acknowledge you on your matched leaves from the centre where you both worked. It made you even more desperate to know what he was about.

And for a couple of blocks, you tried to coax him into pulling into the lot of the fanciest place he could think of, in order to repay him properly. But Geogre just chuckled and waved you off.

"How about just DeAngelo's?" Geogre looked to you as he turned the wheel in the direction of the towns most beloved eatery. Frequented by all types at odd hours and as often as one might get away with, without breaking bank. Which was easy, because their exceptional food was just as exceptionally priced.

"Just DeAngelo's? That's like saying, how about we just have the best night ever?" You chuckled, as the blink of a broken stop light stalled Geogre's car behind a few others.

"Okay." George grinned too, a smile you had to pull your oggling stare away from. "Just the best night ever it is."

///

The diner was aptly busy, but you managed to score a cozy booth near the back. Next to a window that might have let in a draft on colder evenings, you had to actually think before reaching for a menu, because your dominant hand was out of commission and, for a dancer, you were embarrassingly uncoordinated.

"Order one of everything you'd like!" You mused, from behind the worn familiar menu. You were the kind who ordered the same thing almost everytime. But there was something about George's presence that made you feel as if you had to peruse the list of options. "Hell, I'll buy the place out if that's what you want."

"Well, I won't ask too much of you just yet." George tossed away the menu in his grasp after only a brief consideration. You had to bring your laminated list a little closer to hide your blush, though.

You both gave your orders to a tired eyed waitress who smiled your way when you remembered her name.

Then there were two.

"So..." You bit your lip, glancing over the vast expanses of the table that separated you from the mysterious and meek George. His piercing blue gaze was already sleepily settled on you as you dared to venture further into small talk. "Boxing, yeah?"

"Yeah," He agreed with a strain. "These days I just train, though."

"Just train." You arched a brow, hoping he picked up on your call back to the way he'd placed the adverb before his decision to come to DeAngelo's- wondering if he meant anything any it now.

"It's work." He grinned, casting his eyes down to your hand that had been given a new home inside an ugly, removable cast.

"I see." You shifted your weight, trying not to visibly squirm under his pretty, intense gaze.

"I like the sport. But I found it wasn't worth all the trouble." Geogre explained, vaguely. You had to bite back a laugh at how withheld he seemed. The way he studied you, as if there was so much on his mind. The way he kept to himself, even as you nudged for him to tell you more. So you tried his trick of keeping your mouth shut and your eyes focused on his. You nodded to George with a smile that insisted he keep talking. That promised you were listening.

And after the waitress left your drinks on the edge of the table as she breezed by, George slowly spoke up again.

"Boxing, it's... the only thing I'm good at. I could never be a banker or a builder or anything. So I'm lucky to have this job."

And you start to get the tiniest hint as to why he sounds so divided. So cautiously passionate. But every time he opens his mouth to answer your questions that you're hoping clear the enigmatic air about him, George only leaves you more complexly mystified.  

Then he asked about you. First, by wondering if the dinner you ordered was up to par. Then by asking if your debilitated hand would give you much trouble dancing. The answer was no, not really. You'd be set back a day and likely rush through recycled show choir moves to teach the kids later. But if anything, you were fine as ever. You'd even venture to say you were very good, but you blamed your calm happiness on the pain killers and went on talking about your work- because Geogre asked.

It wasn't often you got to gush over your job to someone who didn't already know how dearly you loved it. It wasn't often someone who asked about your dancing, to seemingly fill the gaps of conversation, listened as intently as George.

You figured it was because he was eager to bring up Barney. The older gentleman who'd built and ran Fit For All, with his late husband. The pair were interested in so many types of fitness they decided to open a space big enough for their favorite kinds of sports to live. The studios in the back were rented to dancers, yoga classes, and a few odd takewandow lessons. The gym in front was for boxers, bodybuilders and whoever felt like popping round to wear down the tread mill once a week.

According to Geogre, Barney was the one who coaxed him into picking up boxing. And you weren't surprised. Since the passing of his husband, Barney spent most of his time in the building, marveling over the classes and encouraging new faces to come back and get better. He'd watched you take lessons in the very studio you held yours own in now. It was home away from home, and Barney made it so. Even the mild George seemed to light up a little bolder while he yammered on about the owner.

Your history with Bareny was all either of you talked over till your meals were finished.

"How was your just DeAngelo's, then?" You asked, hoping sincerely that you'd treated him to something lovely enough to make up for his helping you, earlier.

"It was pretty close to the best, like you insisted." George chuckled, shoving his plate away as you noshed on the last of your chips.

"Well then we'll just have to come back till it is the best." You smiled coyly, as your waitress floated by to take away your rubbish.

///

George was quiet as ever as he drove you home. But for the first time, you were less mystified by his silence, and far more eager for a chance at asking him twenty questions the next time you got the chance.

When his vintage ride pulled to a stop outside your flat, George offered you a pleasant goodnight as you collected your bag. But before you returned the sentiment you dared to ask one final question. "See ya tomorrow?"

"Probably." George answered in a thin veil of sarcasm. The look in his eyes made his answer seem inevitable. The tone is his voice made it seem like he wasn't done keeping you on your toes. You took the smile on his lips as a good sign either way, as you returned a grin of your own- and thanked George one last time.

And on your skip to the door of your flat, you kept your cool and didn't look back to the guy you'd spent all night trying to get to know. But you crossed your working fingers as you slipped inside and wondered if it'd be entirely too strange if you started to pop round the gym more often.

───※ ·❆· ※───

taglist: @haileymorelikestupid​ @maria-josefin​ @imaginationandlove​ @queen-bunnyears​

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic #Boxer!George

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi, I’m pretty sure we’ve all heard the news about naya so can you recommend a fic where it’s Santana friendly or naya friendly? Hopefully a multi chapter that’s very light hearted?

I’m still reeling from the news of Naya’s death. 💔 Under the cut are 14 fics with a strong Santana friendship. Let us know what your favorites are, and we’ll include them in this post. - HKVoyage

Jitters by whatiknew

Blaine Anderson gets up at 5am every day to serve coffee with Santana Lopez. And that is the easiest part of his day. As he starts his sophomore year at NYU, Blaine tries to navigate his inevitable conquering of Tisch while figuring out how to talk to the beautiful boy who’s started frequenting the coffee shop. There might be dragons involved

~~~~~

One Fine Day by xxxraquelita

Kurt witnessed many moments in his life as a bridal designer – he moment a bride found her dress, saw herself in it for the first time, the one where she could see herself standing up in front of her family and friends and saying ‘I do.’ Working as he did in that industry, he hardly expected to have a moment of his own while he was at work, but that was exactly what happened.

~~~~~

Life Is Short, Eat Dessert First by dreaming_kate

Kurt’s bakery is his pride and joy. When another bakery opens down the street he is determined to prove that he is the best no matter how adorable the dorky owner is.

~~~~~

Emotions in Limine by whenidance  

As one of the founding partners at The Firm of Hummel, Lopez, and Smythe, Kurt is far too busy to worry about a personal life – on top of the stress of trying to make a name for himself as one of the most promising young attorneys in the Midwest, he’s got to keep a handle on his own office politics, which consist of Santana hooking up with their receptionist and Sebastian trying to get into his pants. When they hire a few new paralegals to help with their impending caseload, the last thing Kurt expects is to fall in love with one Blaine Anderson – and especially not on the eve of his thirtieth birthday. Can their secret office romance survive when their coworkers are quite possibly the nosiest group of people in the whole state of Illinois? (written for gleebigbang on LJ)

~~~~~

Take Me All the Way by Knightlycat

Successful fashion designer Kurt Hummel has lost his inspiration. When his friend and assistant, Santana Lopez, banishes him from New York so that he can find his missing muse, he takes a trip to Washington State to visit the decaying Victorian house he recently inherited. Small towns are not Kurt’s cup of tea, but he tries to make the best of his month of exile. Then he meets construction manager Blaine Anderson at a bachelor auction and Victorian-themed costume party and a month starts to seem not nearly long enough.

~~~~~

It’s Not Just Me by joycie89

Kurt is 21, has a dead end job in a diner in Lima, and a four year old

at home.  What happens when Blaine comes in the picture? 

Read the sequel:  More Than Three

~~~~~

Fix by rainjoy  [PDF/EPUB]

He has - god, his grin is wolfish and wicked and somehow, in the bright darkness of his eyes, sweet

~~~~~

Going for Broke (orphan_account)

Kurt Hummel finds and fixes the broken people, armed with a purple sharpie and his own secrets. He finds Blaine Anderson, who never expected that Kurt might need him just as badly.

~~~~~

One Night in Vegas by @mrscriss2012

AU Kurt and Blaine meet on a drunken night out in Vegas. But what the hell happened? 

~~~~~

Desperate Times verse by @caramelcoffeeaddict

Blaine Anderson is a college student studying theater. He is also a well known porn star that goes by the name Devon Anders. When Kurt Hummel starts having some financial difficulties he asks his classmate Blaine to help him get a job doing porn. Virgin!Kurt / Pornstar!Blaine AU 

~~~~~

Ready to Fly by @gleekmom

The Ready to Fly series is my Blaine Anderson series. It’s Glee’s “missing moments” with my own Blaine backstory. 

~~~~~

Threadbare verse by MeriKG

Slave!Blaine AU.  Blaine is a service-slave owned by a hotel.  He is available for rent as a courtesy to guests to entertain them during their stay.  His life is irrevocably changed one night when he is called to to serve by fashion designer Kurt Hummel.  Very Klaine. 

~~~~~

Saturday Morning Therapy: Keeping It Together by SlayerKitty

“All of us,” Kurt answers. The wheels are turning in his head. “You, me, Santana, Brittany, Karofsky… and Sebastian.” Blaine’s eyes go wide as Kurt rattles off the list. “We need to be there for each other, support each other so that next time, it’s not one of us trying to do what Dave did… and so he’s not tempted to try it again.”

Note: part 1 of the Therapy Series

~~~~~

The Seduction by @hkvoyage (active WIP)

Venetian Blaine arrives at Carnival’s masquerade ball, looking for his next conquest. His reputation as a lover is legendary, and no one can resist him. Virgin Kurt captures his attention, but seducing him will require careful planning. As they spend time together, will Blaine be able to carry out his plan successfully? A historical Klaine AU set in 18th-century Venice.

Note: The fic will be completed posted on July 18th.

[ETA] here are some new fic recs from our readers.

Sotto Voce by GSJwrites

Wine critic Kurt Hummel can make or break careers with his column for Taste Magazine. But when his publisher orders him to spend a year profiling rising stars of California’s wine country and organizing a competition between the big name wineries of Napa and the smaller artisan wineries of Sonoma, his world gets turned upside-down by an enigmatic young winemaker who puts art before business.

Note: thanks for the rec @theyaskedmeto.

~~~~~

Somewhere, Ohio by @grlnxtdr30

What do you do when all of your dreams come true? You look for a new one, and sometimes you find them in the most unexpected places. When Kurt Hummel left Lima, Ohio fifteen years ago, he never thought he’d ever move back. But when he gets some news from his dad, he realizes There’s no place like home. My First Future Fiction!

Note: Also check out Scarves and Coffee and The AmazinGlee Race by the same author.

#klaine #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #fic finder #santana lopez

[soldouthaz]

Hey love! Can you give us a quick summary of all the fics you’re currently working on and also of those you kind of have ideas to write about in the future but haven’t started yet? I’m so interested in your writing 💕

ahh of course!!! I'll put it all below the cut in case anyone wants to be surprised :) thank you so much for your interest! I hope you’re doing well! 

okay, so aside from a couple that I'm keeping secret for now, these are all the ones that I'm currently working on! (I'll put my other ideas that I haven’t started yet near the bottom of the post! 

1. single dad fic 

this one and the next one will most likely be out sometime in the beginning of 2021 since I’ve already got a bit of them written! this one is abo too, which is also still kind of new to me! L moves in next door to H who has a daughter, and quickly becomes caught up in their lives, getting attached to both H and the little girl. there are a few twists and turns along the way though because I can’t help but write in some angst, and I’m excited to write these characters! I don’t think I've ever written a kid fic before, so this one is full of new concepts for me! 

2. look after you iii 

this one has been a long time coming, but I'm hoping to get it out sometime before march 2021 if all goes well! it’s the final addition to my look after you series, and I feel like it wraps everything up really nicely. it also shows a more serious and domestic side to those characters than any other part of that ‘verse, and touches on some important aspects of my own life like adoption and a few other things yet to be revealed. I always say that this series began as an excuse to practice writing smut, but it’s turned into so much more to me :) 

3. science & faith

I've mentioned this one a few times before as well! it’s STEM major L who has dedicated his career to proving that love doesn’t actually exist. H is a philosophy major that challenges him from the beginning, and through several interviews they become unexpected friends. cue major character development and wayyyyyy too much psych/philosphy conjecture because it’s my guilty pleasure. some of my favorite fics are the ones where they’re both insanely intelligent and debate a lot, so I've tried to mirror some of that in this! 

4. sitcom au 

okay, this is the first of several long fics that I want to write this coming year! this one is an idea that I've been obsessed with for nearly two years now, and I'm finally getting around to writing some of it! it’s loosely based around Friends, but very different I'd say. the entire gang are on a new-age sitcom and the fic explores their lives both on and off screen. it’s enemies to lovers (sort of) and has a bit of side ziam because it’s my guilty pleasure, and I feel like it’s one of the most real, raw, emotional pieces I've ever written. I am so so so so excited about this one, and I feel like people will really be able to relate to many aspects of it!!! 

5. love & monsters 

this au is loosely based around the movie that came out earlier this year (Love & Monsters) in which the world ends, but not entirely. I'm changing quite a few details about it though! the vibe here is very dystopian, everyone lives in bunkers, and there are giant, radioactive insects as a result of the world ‘ending’ (lots of world building which will be explained in detail in the fic!). this one features bunker leader H and traveler L, and it’s another one that is unlike anything I've ever written before! I have so many ideas for this one, and I've always wanted to try my hand at a dystopian type world! 

6. speakeasy au 

this one was inspired by the lovely, talented @loubellies !!!!!!! her fic was phenomenal, and it immediately inspired me to want to write a fic that took place in a similar ‘verse! mine will take some slightly different turns and hopefully won’t be too similar! as the rough title suggests, it’s based around a speakeasy and it’s also a historical au (I am going to try my best to make everything historically accurate, but I made a B- in history in school so - we’ll see!) so far it’s got lots of prohibition-era type themes, suspender-wearing H, and one of the most interesting L’s I've ever written, I think. oh, and LOTS of alcohol! I'm excited to try to write some crime/action more in depth! 

7. married in vegas au 

for this one I wanted to go back to my roots for another road trip fic! it’s strangers to lovers to enemies and then back to lovers (sorry for the slight spoiler, but you know I'm incapable of writing anything other than a happy ending) and features H&L both flawed and at some difficult parts of their lives, and they both find themselves in vegas hoping for a distraction. on the trip back to their old lives they both are forced to confront some things and improve themselves, and maybe also learn to love again while they’re at it. I adore road trip au’s and character development, so this is another one I'm really excited about! 

8. abo royalty au 

the last I'll share of my current wips for now is one that I've had in my idea list for a while, but randomly wrote a few thousands on over the past few weeks! it’s a historical royalty au that’s abo, featuring royal H. I don’t want to give away too much of L’s storyline just yet, but his character is one of my favorites in this one for sure! also, may or may not be written with my lovely friend @falsegoodnight .... let me know? ;) 

that’s about it for now! I have nearly 30 wips but I only counted the ones that have significant word counts here, and I'll put some below with the ideas! 

and then here are some in my list that have 10k or less that I want to write in the future (feel free to send me ideas or things you’d like to see in them, or to ask me for more info if you’re curious!): 

- ziam au 

- sterek au 

- fashion designer!L 

- rival CEO’s (this one has over 10k but it’s been abandoned for a bit! I need to get back into it!) 

-superpowers au 

- ghost writer!L / popstar!H au 

- *possibly* a triplet fic (nothing weird! strictly X/L | X/L | X/L) 

- witch!L 

- more vampy drabbles 

- a pride and prejudice au where L is mary

- phone sex operator!H but the hotline is for aftercare

- H is engaged to someone else (although ris @falsegoodnight knocked this trope OUT OF THE PARK and I don’t think I could ever do it justice after reading hers!) 

- some modern day fairytales 

- I'd like to do some more uni au’s as well! 

- a loosely inspired reversed Grease au where L is preppy and pretends he doesn’t know H when they get back to school, and H is from the ‘wrong side of the tracks’ and falls head over heels for L 

alrighty, I think that’s about it! these are most of my plans for the next two years or so, with the exception of some drabbles/pwp’s/some other works that I'm keeping private for now! if you see anything you’d like more info on or make any suggestions for, please don’t hesitate to reach out or send me an ask! 

and thank you again for asking me this, I've really been uninspired recently and I feel like I'm kind of dragging, but getting to talk a little bit about them has made me very happy tonight! thank you so much again for your interest, and I hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night! <3 

#about me #my fic

[alphaofdarkness]

I wish to know more of your awesome OCs!! So, 19, 22(or maybe as an alternative if they don't, something you mischaracterize on some of them by mistake? Odd, but I sometimes mess up my own ocs XD), 23, 24, 26, and 32 for the OC questions!!

Oh! You beautiful person you! 💖🥺 Of course I shall tell you more about my many, many ocs! Hopefully I can fulfill! 🥰🤗

More undercut because this turned out to be very long ~ 😅

19.  Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why).

Aw, honestly all my OC’s mean so much to me! It is hard to play favorites sometimes lol. Though, if I had to choose, I’m going with two of them!

Samantha, or Sam, is definitely my baby and has definitely developed so much from her original self. Nonetheless, still the same shy, curious girl who has a big role to uphold as chosen Beta to her Alpha. Plus, being a Legendary Wolf Warrior of Light, even more so! Still, despite many the many hardships and obstacles she has faced, she is still hopeful and a total sweetheart. She just wants a settled life and live her with her closest pack mates. 

I have definitely put her though the ringer a lot, emotionally and even explored just several internal things with her. I know Danielle is meant to be me in a sense, but personality and emotional wise, I am more like this lovely Angel. Best girl and everyone loves her!

Second is definitely Danielle (my BsD self insert). Personally, because I have started to embrace her and give her more of my personality and who I really am. Still keeping her as her own person with her struggles, in some aspects, but giving her more of me as well. She has definitely allowed me to have some more self love for myself. Even if it is come and go on most days. She has just grown to be more of a gradual part of me in the recent years since I got into Bsd. I truly love her as she gives me a reason to embrace the parts of me I never would have considered so much or even just not like about me.

Self shipping has definitely also helped, I just love Dany very much and hold her close, please she may be stubborn but she is hella fragile ;;;w;;;

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?

Hm, I wouldn't say anyone has mischaracterized my characters so much that I know of, maybe my parents whenever there is a moment they see my Oc’s and just make a judgement on them on the spot lol.

I suppose me mischaracterizing my OCs would probably be the Seven Deadly Soul Sins? Maybe ^^, These seven, practically, ghost entities of the Seven Deadly Sins are meant to be perceived as the worst possible people/wolves. Their existence is the reason people do bad things and are the negative contrast to the Legendary Wolf Warriors. 

Take an old, unfinished draw of all 7 of them together~

I know what they are, how they behave, what their very existence and presence entails. However, I have come to the bad tendency of redemption in my line of story telling, I often find myself back and forth whether there is any redeemable qualities that should be given to them considering their very existence and such. Envy, or Evelyn, is one that I can definitely see having something on that accord, but she is still at her core bad. 

I don't know if I am saying this correctly or even answering the question well lol. But yeah, I say my Deadly Sin OC’s often can be mischaracterized in a way. I can definitely picture them being top favs if my story was an actual thing. I support the fans in all they come lol ^^

 23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

I can't think of one I changed too much out of concern for what they are like that I can remember to be quite honest ^^, 

I guess maybe Wisler? I know when I first came up with the start up concept of the LWW, I never intended for him to be a previous Warrior. It was always meant to be Dany’s Aunt who possessed it and Wisler was just a precautious elder wolf who needed to teach her to better her powers, less she gives it up like his daughter had. 

Of course, the whole concept and idea, just gives way for him to have been a possible warrior in the past. If anything I just the developed the idea more and made it more of a tragedy for Wisler. Normally, the concept of being a LWW is meant to be a blessing, a gift bestowed by a greater power, but to him, after giving up his power and remaining upon the world, he just sees it as a curse. Pride only solidified that into his mind. Nonetheless, he becomes a mentor to the other warriors to better themselves and keep them from giving up their power.

Second, was more of a momentary interest in the Chronicles of Narnia and being ever so salty about Susan being left behind, while her family died and went to Narnia ;;;w;;; 

Silly thing really, but literally chose, out of all the warriors, Lidia to be the one to be left alive, from whatever scenario I had at the time, because she refused her soul gift of the LWW’s. It was a momentary silly concept, I don't know why I would chose her for this scenario at all, she doesn’t deserve that ;;w;;

If anything, the ones that I can picture are Yamato and Danielle, just because of their mental state and emotional turmoil under such a heavy weight of loss. It was a silly concept I had thought of once, and just cry little at the thought ;;w;; 

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

Heck, I would love to meet all of them... and heavy apologize for all the hell I've put them all through ;;;w;;;

But Jason~ most definitely...Not cause I self ship myself with him or anything but UwU,,, He is a sweetheart and a beautiful boi ~ I want to love him and give him a soft life pls.

26. Have you ever had to change your OC’s design or something else about them against your will? 

Ahh,,, All of them, in a way? ^^; my middle self was something else entirely~

I think design wise, most if not all my warriors, are still the same. Maybe just a few new upgrades in their fur shade, colored eyes, and maybe their human designs too. Most definitely will change more in the future, just for the sake of bettering myself to draw people.

Old, high school art~ Cringe 

Any new design change is purely out of being in a more better mindset of design and just development of what make them unique. I have definitely changed all of their Soul Markings, I have changed Lidia’s name from Leafia recently, Taka’s formerly sky blue eyes to more of a pale green, Sora’s former tail scar to the claw ones on her shoulder, etc.

Origin, personality and relation wise on the other hand, GRADUAL SHIFT! Some points:

Sora, Yamato, and Takaru are heavily inspired by the Digimon Adventure kids of the same name, I kept their surnames of the ones from the series for a long time into at most Junior Year of High School. Til I learned, if I want to make them my own, I have to change this entirely!

So Sora, Yamato, and Takaru are definitely different entirely from their original selves, personality and kind of design wise.

Sam was kind of meant to be like Kari from Digimon in a way, but heavily refused to name her that or make her in similarity of the character.

Another Oc of mine named Jacob Wolfe was originally going to be the Warrior of Earth before I came up with Lidia.

There was originally meant to be just 5 Warriors, Lidia and Jason not yet part of it and, surprisingly, neither was Danielle.

Jason was originally named Damien and was kind of, for a while, Danielle’s twin sibling... Changed that drastically and entirely after renaming him to Jason.

Originally, had some other mythical beasts living amongst them in the Forest of Dreams, like dragons and gryphons for a while.

Originally, played with the idea of the warriors coming back to life if they didn't give up their powers, but... after much though it just became more of a “too cheesy of choice?” Especially for an ending thing before the next generation kids come in, it was just not an option after a while.

These are just some that I can think of at the top of my head at least, I am sure there is much more scrap things in my mind lol.

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why? 

...God I don't want any of them to fecking die grueso-(I should shut my mouth actually),,, even though I will admit I did internally put my warriors into a shitty thought-out idea of them in a Final Destination scenario...

Ahh, may Yamato in a way as that stoic, hardened protagonist with the will too try and survive, Wrath is his counter self sin, I find that fitting in a way. Same with Jason, just because of his slight nativity to being a warrior and how he left his former abusive living from his alpha and stepfather. Oddly enough, maybe Sam? Just because of her ability to see the worst things to happen in the future, but I am not sure lol.

Am thinking of the new Resident Evil game I see floating around with some gamer youtubers and I can see Yamato and/or Jason in the position and setting.

—✨——✨——✨—

I truly enjoyed all these questions! It gave me time to think and reflect on my ocs! I do hope you enjoy some old, blurred and unfinished art from ya wolf girl~ I truly appreciate this and gives me the feels of validation! ;;;w;;;

#the legendary wolf warriors #alpha’s art #alpha howls #oc ask questions! #bsd oc #original character #alpha's ocs

[eirenare]

“The Rise of Kylo Ren” + TROS theory (with TROKR pics)

I’ll probably look like a clown in 16-17 days when “The Rise of Kylo Ren” #2 releases but whatever lol—after TROS I believe even more that the former leader of the Knights of Ren (Ren) is Ben from another timeline or a future gone (more) wrong

Anyways, my thoughts on this:

1) remember the outrageous “Ben sets the temple ablaze and runs away” from the Visual Guide? I’m sure it’s probably just even more retconning (like a ton of stuff from the VD), but what if it’s literal—except it’s just that the Ben who does it isn’t the Ben we know, therefore making it true while retaining “our” Ben’s innocence. Another option (painful but, I think, absolutely plausible) is that Ben himself accidentally set on fire the temple with his rage and sorrow unleashing a Force storm. However, the way the “prologue” of TROKR #1 ends (I’ll talk about later on in this post) seems kind of like a foreshadowing that Ben (well, “our” Ben) didn’t do it...? Kind of interesting, and hopefully we won’t have to wait until issues #3 and #4 (february and march) to know about that important detail

2) this interview with Charles Soule (the writer) and Will Sliney (the artist) dedicates, curiously, the first 3-4 paragraphs solely to talking about Ren—and the article, which is from the official SW webpage (an article called “Introducing ‘Ren’ in Marvel’s The Rise of Kylo Ren”), starts like this: “they call him Ren, but that wasn’t always his name”. Which is also how the comic starts:

... Tell me this doesn’t sound suspicious as kriff and like foreshadowing

And the interview keeps going like this: “Born out of the flames,” as artist Will Sliney puts it, the leader of the Knights of Ren in the opening pages of the new comic Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren #1, arrives battle-scarred and wearing a fearsome, featureless mask — a blank expression save for a smattering of claw-like gouges. Concealed within is a charismatic leader, the exact type of person who would be able to seduce young Ben Solo away from the path of the Jedi.” Then they basically proceed to spend the first 4 paragraphs talking a lot about Ren besides talking about Ben (and then, lastly, about Snoke—and, fun fact: they knew about the Snoke twist of TROS beforehand), although I think they talk less about Ben even

3) Ben being compared to Anakin while Ren is compared to Darth Vader, except Charles Soule wanted Ren to read “like a more charming Darth Vader. “A Vader who is charismatic and who is appealing. That’s why [Ren’s] skin is burned and he sort of looks the way that he does. He’s embracing the seductiveness and the damage that the dark side does. Darth Vader, as impressive and imposing and terrifying as he is, is remote and cold and distant because he has the suit surrounding him. Whereas Ren isn’t hiding behind it. He’s someone you could have a beer with, in theory.”

4) more interesting interview stuff. “Designed purposefully for the new comic series, with issue #1 out now, Ren feeds the evolution of Kylo Ren. “The entire seductiveness of the dark side poured into one character engineered for Ben Solo is Ren,” Soule says. “He’s sort of a charming evil rascal that can be really fun to write and I really like where he goes in the series. But if Kylo Ren is going to take over the Knights of Ren, which we know that’s what happens, there should be some transition.”

Also: “I think the key to writing Ben Solo is to write him as a lost teenager who is deeply in touch with emotions that teenagers often feel,” Soule says. “He feels like no one understands him, no one sees him the way he actually is, he’s utterly alone and there’s no one else out there in the universe. So when he sees Ren, he’s like, ‘Wait a minute — maybe there is somebody like me in the universe. Maybe there is a path for a guy like me. Look at the choices he’s made. I could make those choices, too, and I could be cool.’”

So... This is interesting. We have Snoke manipulating Ben to go to him, at first making himself appear friendly, while on some measure Palpatine’s pulling the strings from Snoke (I don’t think he would be like a puppet with Palps’ voice, though, given that chapter of the TLJ non-junior novelization that has a lot of stuff from Snoke’s perspective, but who knows). But then, Ben Solo’s basically obsessed with Vader... and, apparently, this Ren’s a walking dark side temptation for Ben. Well... We’ll see what happens, I guess

Also, crying inside at reading that “wait a minute—maybe there is somebody like me in the universe. Maybe there is a path for a guy like me. Look at the choices he’s made. I could make those choices, too, and I could be cool”. If Ren really was Ben from another time seeking to change things (probably something related to Rey): the implications that this has, the emotions that this has, the power that this has

Interesting, too, that it hasn’t been said if it’s Snoke who’s “the master” of the KoR (yes, they do have a master on top of their own leader), but that only gets weirder because the KoR were revealed time ago to be only loyal to their leader and to the “Ren philosophy” (which also makes possible ties with Snoke alone impossible)—so, if Snoke and the First Order aren’t, then who is it? Palpatine? Still, again, there’s the philosophy thing of following only their group leader...

Oh and: the Ren philosophy sounds very intriguing and I’m liking it a lot

(For context of the next pics: there are two brothers, being one of them Force-sensitive, and both the KoR and someone called SecSec are trying to recruit them—but the non-Force-sensitive one kills the other, which means the KoR doesn’t accept him, and Ren kills him)

5) just after that panel, in this pic below they talk a bit about “the master” here, being Ren who says it. Also it’s interesting that, after that happens, the KoR part ends with Ren saying "let’s go find something to burn”:

After that there’s a page as if this kind of prologue has finished, showing a page with the logo of the comic and all that... and then, next page it’s Ben standing in front of the fire and ruins of the temple all shocked (a note here: on that page it reads “now” and the name of the location, and the “prologue” happened “long ago”). I’d say that really looks like foreshadowing...

Now the thing is... If the KoR are not affiliated in any way with the First Order nor Snoke, and the KoR is only interested in recruiting Force-sensitives for their ranks, then how come they could’ve arrived in Luke’s Jedi temple... just at that right time to burn it down? I mean, right, there can be coincidences, but— uh, that might be a bit too much of a coincidence, perhaps? Who knows...

6) interview intensifies. “Born out of the flames”, is how Sliney describes Ren—well, thought it was worth mentioning this because guess what mythological being is born out of the flames too. Also, funny the parallel between that and the publisher’s summary of “The Rise of Kylo Ren” #3 (scheduled for February 12th): “Soon, BEN SOLO'S path will end in a place of fire and blood, and a shadow will rise to take his place. He is with the KNIGHTS OF REN now, and they will welcome him, if he can pay their price.” Well, given that “our” Ben starts becoming Kylo Ren after what happens at the temple, and that they describe Ren (referring to the former leader of the KoR) like being “born out of the flames”... this does nothing to deterr me from believing this theory, to be honest

7) more from the interview. “ The creative team engineered some surprises for this charming dark sider, a foil in many ways to Darth Vader hiding beneath his protective covering. “You expect the dude hiding his face under a mask like that to be all messed up, particularly with his body looking the way it does,” Soule says. But in issue #2 we’ll see what he’s truly concealing, a reveal that speaks to Ben on a whole other level” … This whole paragraph, I swear. Sounds like when they talked in the times between TFA and TLJ about Ben’s face behind his mask, and about his unmasking. Also, the talk about the face reveal…

What kind of “reveal that speaks to Ben on a whole other level” could it be? I don’t think they’d be referring to that with something more going on in his face, as in, scars or charred skin. In fact, it wouldn’t make sense for Ren to cover that up given that he shows with pride his scarred body

And faces of men he might know? The probabilities just lower and narrow soooo much here. We have yet to see, however, if Ben gets the reveal as a kid or an adult, which could make a difference. Still, back to “what man could this guy be”, I just can’t think of someone that he’d recognize and have this impact on him... ... And now it’s when it’s a Ben clone from another timeline, lol

8) that big panel on “The Rise of Kylo Ren” #2 where the KoR and Ren are facing Luke, Ben and Lor San Tekka, and Ben and Ren seem to mirror poses:

9) this is jut something that came to my mind, but… It still bugs me to this day the phrase “it is you” that Ben says regarding Rey on the TFA novelization (when she calls forth the Legacy lightsaber), because Ben didn’t know back then about them being a dyad, nor have we seen any mentions to him having dreamt of Rey before or anything—so maybe Ben’s encounter (encounters? Still not sure about it) with Ren involved Ren telling him something that will happen in the future? Something which could also tackle that random “which girl?”

The sad thing, if Ren was really Ben from the future? Like I said in my previous post about this teory (pre-TROS): ... that Ben would’ve literally killed himself, and therefore made true what he told Han that his son is dead and that he’d killed him (which then is reversed in TROS with that “Kylo Ren is dead, my son is alive”). That would be such a kriffing trauma for Ben that I don’t know if I could stomach it, after seeing Ben’s death in TROS... I mean, we would literally be seeing another Ben die... even if somehow his actions meant a worse future would have been avoided

Anyways my brain seems to find fuel in angst (why), because now reading “Ren” only makes me think of Ben’s name but taking on the “R” from Rey if in that future something happened to her...  (Or that the Knights would be called “of Ren” in reference to Ben and Rey)

... And now it’s when we’ve been played like a fiddle all along and the novels, with their differences/expanded material as hints (like the “it is you” in the TFA novelizations), are but one of the timelines. Can you imagine? To cite the TLJ non-junior novelization: “time is a circle. The end is the beginning”. At this point I believe anything could happen, specially after seeing TROS and how wtf it’s all that surrounds it...

10) to finish the post, the thing that made me start thinking Ren could be Ben: the hair that peeks from below the helmet looks apparently like Ben’s both in shape and color (an interesting detail is how the color of their hair seems to match in tone: in issue #1 it’s brownish for the both of them even though one’s surrounded by fire and the other by ice, and on the preview pages of issue #2 their hair is shown black). And in a universe so diverse as SW, and given that Ren and Ben are characters so connected, that’s a pretty... interesting choice. Here are some more images for comparison between Ben and Ren:

#Reylo #Baby boy Ben Solo #Rey #Baby boy Ben #Ben Solo #TROKR #TROS #TROKR speculation #TROS speculation #TROKR theorizing #TROS theorizing #TROKR theory #TROS theory #TROKR theories #TROS theories #The Rise of Kylo Ren #The Rise of Skywalker #TROKR spoiler #TROS spoiler #TROKR spoilers #TROS spoilers #The Rise of Kylo Ren spoiler #The Rise of Skywalker spoiler #The Rise of Kylo Ren spoilers #The Rise of Skywalker spoilers #Star Wars #SW #Star Wars spoiler #SW spoiler #Star Wars spoilers

[popculturebuffet]

The Loud House Reviews: Schooled!

Season 5, and regular coverage begin! The loud house finally moves into a new year chronologically: Lincoln and Co move up to Middle School but find themselves seperated when LIncoln accidently signs up for the wrong class and ends up with a mean teacher and frienemy chandler, and then ends up commuting to a Canadian school instead. The Canada part is more believable than a middle school not having multiple teachers for multiple subjects frankly but more ranting on that later. Meanwhile in order to get Lori moves on to college only to find every dorm is a comedic set piece, and Lynn Sr and Rita try to get Lily ready for pre school by potty training her. Finally in all this chaos Leni ends up attending pre school. Again still more believable than the single class thing. Ramblings about well guess, how amazing it is the show has lasted this long in this day and age, my thoughts on Lynn Jr being kind a obnoxious. 50% chad and my lessened hatred for rusty. Which again I assure you is more believable than the single class nonsense. Back to School, under the cut.

Welcome readers new and old to regular coverage of The Loud House! Couple of reasons for that. The first is, like amphibia, so I don’t fall behind as I tend to procastinate and let episodes of shows pile up, and i’m tired of it. The second is that I feel we need more Loud House content on this site that’s not loudcest, people shipping sam and lincoln soley to try and get back at the show for having a gay couple, and some weird stuff I can’t quite unwrap because i’m old. And keep in mind I understand 50% chad just fine.. look at him. 

So yeah I have a feeling young or old, i’m not the only one scared to go int here and hopefully I can give ya’ll something fun to look forward to or worth sifting through it. 

Now i’ve covered the show before.. 4 times in fact, having covered Brave the last dance as a one off way back and having covered ALL THREE SALUNA episodes during pride month. So check those out if you want my previous thoughts on the show as a whole, my faviorite character and her special lady, and me ranting about rusty/.. and we’ll get to him. But i’ve got a lot to talk about, some of it not directly about the episode so pitter pat er let’s get at eer.  The first thing I want to talk about is.. how big an occasion the show is. It’s not only at 5 seasons but it recently got renewed for a 6th and still has a movie on the way.. as I hope so does rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles.. please don’t let that movie have been canceled, that show went from okay to leaving me wanting more of my mad dogs... but yeah getting back on track they’ve offically reached... 

And that’s.. incredibly rare ESPECIALLY for nick. I mean yes spongebob will never die, and the fairly oddparents died way after it should’ve, but for the most part nick is a giant tire fire of dickheads when it comes to running a network. They have an absolutley ghastly habit of canceling a show as soon as possible, and if they already commissioned season 2 shuttling it to sister network nicktoons to die a quite death. They expect every show to become an overnight sucess, or else and it’s a freaking disgusting practice. And it’s still going: I mean just to bookend it, around the same time loud house started, we got the utter classic Harvey Beaks. The show had a sizeable audiences and what kids I showed it to loved it but because it wasn’t doing spongebob numbers Nick shuttled it to nicktoons then yelled at it’s creator for daring to be upset they you know.. moved his show to their designated graveyard without telling him and ended the show without giving them notice to change the ending. The final episode still WORKS as a final episode, but it wasn’t INTENDED to end on a bittersweet note and I blanme that on nick.  The bookend part comes from the fact that about a month before this Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turltes ended it’s run.. on Nicktoons, with no fanfare and like Harvey fans likely only knowing thanks to scheduling, had it’s final season cut in half so they had to rush the pacing of the final few episodes to wrap up as much as they could, AND the cancelation reason was the always reliably stupid “low toy sales” excuse.  The odds of a show surviving on nick, nevermind thriving are very slim and even outside the nightmare factory that is my once beloved childhood network, most animated shows last around 3 seasons. Disney channel usually cuts htem off around 4, and cartoon network around 3 if their that nice, with utter classic OK KO being one of the latest victims of the cancelation bug, and steven unvierse only got a 6th season after essentially being canceled and having to rush the ending, only THEN getting to go back and fill in the cracks with Future and the Movie.  And unlike fellow network loved show that’s gone on for a while, Teen Titans Go, the Loud House is still a pretty good show. It has it’s bumps, we’ll talk about some of them here and i’ve talked about em before, especially the “”With the casagrandes mini” which could’ve easily hurt said show but thankfully didn’t. It’s grown, going from being about the one boy among ten girls to being about all 11 kids, AND their parents and making earnest attempts to make once hated characters like Lori and Lola fully fleshed out.. it’s been more 50 50 with lynn, but more on that later. My point is the show’s tried to evolve, to grow out of having a simple status quo and actually let things change and it’s refreshing when a lot of comedy shows refuse to. The show CAN be hit ore miss in quality, but hte misses have become less cruel and the hits have become that much more impactful. 

Not only that but the show surivived the seeming impossible of it’s creator being revealed to be a sexual harassing creepy asshole who hopefully gets his dick sanded off for all eternity when he invetibly ends up in hell or whatevers next. Screw him but good on Nick for firing him swiftly, one of the few times in the last few years i could really say that about them and not be sarcastic, and good on the crew for carrying on easily without him. 

My point is.. it’s nice to not be attending another show’s funeral. After rise and then venture bros, it’s NICE to have a show surivive and carry on and decide NOT to rest at this stage and stay in it’s comfort zone but shake things up a bit. It’s nice in this stinkhole of a year to have something to celebrate, and yes i’m aware a back to school specail is ill timed, for obvious reasons, but it was likely in production long before covid and I can’t fault the writers for wanting to give kids an escape, nor for doing the quarntine special earlier to help them talk through it. So congrats loud house you earned it.  Now that’s out of the way, the not resting thing.. the thing that has me covering the show, and had me exxcited for this episode.. is that they decided to shake things up a lot by moving all the kids up an age and moving Lori up to college. And what makes this work.. is this wasn’t something they just sprung on the audience. it would’ve worked with that after 4 years of the same age and general stuff.. but season 3 started setting it up with Lincoln and Clyde’s middle school visit and Lori’s college interview, both things i’ll likely cover ventually, while Season 4, after the mini series, had most Lori episodes focus on getting her ready for it: From her senior year, to Leni realizing she’d be gone and being panicky over it, to her working to get a car, which she rides off in this episode. The show dedicated one of it’s few arcs, and probably the only non-romantic one outside of Ronnie Anne and Bobby moving to their spinoff, to this. 

They were all in on this and there was no turning back, and shaking up the status quo like this is a risk as some viewers fear change and run from it like cowards> Me.. I loved it. I loved the idea of taking Lincoln to a new school, giving him and his friends new stuff to do and new challenges to face,  having Lori move away, have Luna learn to drive, have Lisa enter kindergarten, Lily say more etc. And there’s even things I didn’t think of that two upcoming episode synposis suprised me with: birthday episodes, though it’d be best to spread them out but i’m hoping strife of the party isn’t the only one, and the power vacum: Can Leni take over for Lori.. should she? Should Luna or Luaan try instead. Do they even want to? it’s all good questions. It’s a simple but small change that helps change up the show for the better, opens up new avenues while not salting the earth for the old as demonstrated by half of the upcoming episdoes for the next two weeks being ones that could’ve been done at any point in the show. 

So yeah my hype was at maxium, helped by the fact I love one hour specials of shows: “Change Your Mind” “Reign Storm”, all three ducktales have done so far with “Let’s Get Dangeorus” likely adding to that list.. it’s usually a great time for shows to go all out, show waht they got and tell deeper stories. So the big question all this has been leading up to: what did loud house, 5 seasons in,k with a clean slate and tone sof potetial do with their premiere? Well let’s take a look shall we?  This episode is divided into 4 plots, one of which is really a plot inside a plot but still technically 4, all centered around school starting: Lincoln and Co have their first day of middle school, Lori is moving to college after all that setup, and Lily is finally old enough for daycare. And Lynn Sr is having a slow motion breakdown at first, he gets out of it quickly, because understandably he’s feeling mealcholy about not only having all his kids in school but having his first leave him. Sure he still has a full hosue but it’s still rough having one of the few constants in  your life , a chaotic life at that go. So each one focuses on one of them. THe fourht if your curious has Leni accidently end up in Lily’s pre school and is comedy gold. More on that in a minute.  This is actually one of the episodes problems as only Lincoln’s plot and Lori’s plot feel like they naturally dovetail, while Lily’s plot feels like an eleven minute episode that was bootstrapped to this one either to get her into daycare faster or to pad it out to an hour along with parts of the Lincoln plot. It’s till not a BAD episode, but it dosen’t feel quite as cohesive as it should, or as big in scope being an hour long, with most of the loud kids outside the four with plots not getting more than a cameo, though Lisa gets to be the best part of LIly’s plot, and Lynn.. we’ll get to her. It’s not great. I do GET why they did this, as trying to focus on ALL of them at once is nigh impossible and it let the stories breathe better, but it still feels weird that none of them have a reaction to lori being gone and frankly I think the stronger story would be to have had lily potty train LAST season, and then focus this on Lori leaving, the family adjusting, and have Lincoln’s middle school woes be the b plot. Now granted we have a full season to rumninate on her absence, and how it effects the others, so it’s not the hugest lost, but i feels like a waste of the extra time to just pile three episodes into one when a half hour could’ve done the same and saved you two half hours for later. It’s not terrible, but it could’ve been better. Now i’m done moping about the special as a whole for a second let’s break down each plot one at a time. 

The A-Plot: Lincoln Took off to Canada the Other Dayyyyyyyyy The plot is very simple and the adds and summary sadly telegraphed it.. which didn’t help because it’s very clear from the episode Lincoln getting sent to canada is a wacky twist and not supposed to be in the adds. I mean I can’t blame them it’s in half the episode, but it still would’ve been funnier if they kept it as a suprise. And yes if you didn’t know about this episode LIncoln gets sent to canada which is somehow not too weird for the show.  So Lincoln and Co are starting high school. And now’s as good a review as any to TALK about Lincoln’s supporting cast. I did a bit during my review of Brave the Last Dance but feel it’s a good time to talk about them again update opinons and what not. I do feel like they sometimes blend into each other a bit much and shine best when one of them is given the spotlight to play off the others instead of all playing a supporitng role. It’s why I like “Pasture Bedtime” and “brave the last dance” so much: They let the characters breathe while still giving one some extra focus. As for each indivdiually. 

Clyde as I said there i’ve come around on: Early on how tolerable he was was a coin flip: he could be an adorable, somewhat awkard, sheltered kid but one eager to help his friend with his various schemes, as he is now only with a love of baking which is even better. But he could ALSO be a creepy little bugger who either had a freaking anime nose bleed and fainted when Lori was around, or tried to break her and Bobby up, Bobby who is not only the nicest character on BOTH shows in general but was extra nice to Clyde despite all this. Granted I think my boy was too dense to realize Clyde was being a one man asshole parade, but still. It dosen’t help that with Savino’s later ousting for doing the same shit but as a grown ass man. Thankfully he has done a complete recovery and the Lori bit was thankfully dropped and with Bobby gone, he couldn’t hurt my baby boy anymore, so they moved on to other parts of him. Plus I love his dad’s not just for the obvious being gay dads but for being good characters in their own right. 

Stella is easily my favorite of the group, i’ve gone on about her before and Haley Tju does a wonderful job with her, and she feels a bit more three dimensional than the rest of the non-clyde members of the group. Not fully, but still a bit more than the one trait they get and hopefully like our next one up and clyde, she actually gets to start showing up outside of lincoln’s friend squad team episodes. 

Liam is easily my second faviorite. I”m aware he’s not the most complex boy: He’s a farmer, and he knows how to tame animals.. that’s about what he’s used for.. but he’s a sweet enoguh kid he makes it work. And frankly said trait works for him because shockingly, out of all of lincoln’s non clyde friends he’s shown up the MOST in stories not involving Lincoln, and even in one of those lately not involving hte rest of his friends. No really, he popped up in racing hearts in season 3, and Senior Moment and Snoops On Last season. It’s not a TON of episodes overall but compared to the rest of them it’s very noticable and I love it. More please. 

Moving on to the ones i’ve bitched about... Zach. Yeah.. my thoughts can best be summed up as this. 

I mean.. Lincoln’s friends, even the more cheerful ones are capable of feeling defeat and pesimsim, if you want one to downtalk people you have rusty, and “has a tatoo , likes antqiues and belives in cryptids” aren’t really great quirks. If they did more with them or used them OUTSIDE of his episodes sure, but otherwise .. why is he here other than not wanting to explain his absence? Sure he plays off rusty.. but Stella could easily do his role as that and even then they don’t use him for that enough to really justify being him around. Either have a point with him or quitely write him out.. Star Vs, for all it’s flaws, leanred this as far back as season 2 with alphonso and ferguson, AND when people qutestioned where they are actually brought them back to properly write them off and gave them closure in the episode they gave the rest of the echo creek cast the same. Just pick one. And if you want him to knock rusty down a peg fine, just do so.  And now Rusty.. my old nemisis.... and things have changed. Do I still LIKE Rusty? nope. Just.. nope. I don’t. He’s still a skeezy little idiot.. but I realized that unlike LIam he at least has a purpose in the group: He’s the Micheal Kelso. Granted UNLIKE kelso, they don’t go the extra mile and have his friends poke fun at him, but this isn’t that kind of friendship, and with Lynn now around more and Chandler now likely going to be the same, there’s more opprotunites for someone outside the group to rightfully insult the little moron. And if their not going to.. I realized I could. I realized I ENJOY insulting him, taking the piss out of his unjusitfied ego, and just having fun making fun fo the little goober. And more than that.. I realized he DOES have redeeming qualities. He’s a genuinely good friend, he loves his friends dearly and has no trouble showing affection despite his misplaced swagger. I may mock the kid, and I will again.. but he’s not a bad person and will likely grow out of being a dipweasel, just not on screen. I realized having a deep abiding hatred of him just wasn’t good for me when simply mocking him constantly does the trick. There are other, more important things to get pissed about. Rusty isn’t that important. But he is good joke fodder and unlike the show with Zach I refuse to pass up an opportunity. 

But yeah now that’s out of the way, the basic setup here infuraties me. It’s for mildly stupid reasons, but ones i’m going to go to bat for: Lincoln dosen’t get into the same class as his friends. As in their still treating this like elementary school and having everyone in the same class for every subject. That.. that’s not how middle school works. that’s not how any of this works. They don’t lump groups of the same kids into one tract of classes, even electives like cooking or forced ones like PE, which thanks to my autisim I was allowed to attend a diffrent kind of PE that wasn’t an utter fucking nightmare. And you may say “Well Jake your a near 30 blobby shell of a man and things change” which is accurate but they haven’t changed that much. Girl Meets World was only 6 years ago. And while they DID have Cory as the only real teacher they USED, he was still shown to be their history teacher and it was lampshaded sometimes how he wasn’t their only class. And yes I know a lot can change in 6 years, the hellscape we’re in proves that, but just simply ASKING my middle schooler nephew if this is still how that works.. and yup it is. Now it could be diffrent by region, but for the most part the conseus seems to be on diffrent teachers for diffrent subjects. And again as Girl Meets World shows, it’s not THAT complicated. Just have one teacher you use for everything or have a home room. Why do this, why. Just why exactly. Why. You barely used actually in school classes for plots anyway and mostly did stuff around the edges like crushes or lunch or dodge ball. Speaking of which where is Girl Jordan. Where IS she? Anyways, my point is this, especailly as a ned’s declassified school surivvial guide on this very network,f fan really annoys me and takes me out of things..  And the thing is they COULD’VE still done this plot just had the gang all adjust, not just lincoln, to not being in the same class togehter. Have them have to do various classes WITHOUT having each other to rely on. You could even have chandler and mr. bohlmer show up. But the way they do this just..d osen’t really make sense and just feels lazy. And if there were good jokes i’d be fine with his but their aren’t. IT’s just a mean teacher and Lincoln being picked on by a moron for the first half while his friends struggle to function without him. It’s just sad and not in the well written, well thought out way.  Then we get to “This needs to be an hour” portion of the plot as again the above could’ve EASILY worked for the full hour but because they instead went with this, they had to think of something else... and went with something bonkers that at the very least is entertaining: Lincoln, after convincing his teacher for a transfer, which I did like as he uses his head: He sees his teacher wants something diffrent for lunch and paper airplaners her a cupon for his dad’s restraunt then talks himself into an off campus lunch to talk her into a new class.. and winds up transfered to canada as she well meaningly  did so he can’t get out of. And while I thought this was just wacky exageration having him commute.. turns out .. nope. While I don’t know if any school would actually have a student commute to Canada rather than jsut stay there turns out Royal Woods is in michigan and Michigan is across a lake from Ontario.. so yeah.. they did their geography research but not their middle school one. Weird ain’t it?  Anywho, I ended up liking this portion... and not just because it has canada gooses, which means i can use this. 

And if you have a problem with Letterkenny you got a problem with me and I suggest you let that one marinate. But yeah we get an ENTIRE number playing into canadian stereotypes and it’s clear this show is rather than using them for a cheap laugh just exagerating things for fun and a slight nudge to canadians, who I clearly love. It feels less like “oh ha ha canada” and more like if the great white north was stretched over 15 minutes but still worked. 

It’s just good fun. And they also again have an entire musical number full of canadian sterotypes and expressing love of this great country which I hope to visit some day.. and possibly live if this country countinues to get worse. It just feels nice and more creative than the first half. It’s still not FANTASTIC, but it works somehow and Ic an’t explain why. Eventually LIncoln tries to get kicked out, fails then plans to blow the hockey game for everyone and calls on his friends to help, sending them all to canada wh ere they get lost in the wilderness. There is a funny bit where Stella’s gps literally freezes over and zach acidently smashes it as well as Rusty’s “Moustache” one pathetic hair because why should his moustache be anything else freezes off. and given even with me being less vitrolic his suffering is my catnip I enjoyed it. We also get a cute sequence of them runing the ice and rusty failing at anything because of course he does, while Liam both tames a moose and slathers them in grease to swim across because of COURSE he does. Of course he does. IT’s just a refreshing jolt of energy after the first half. But we do get a really damn good scene after htey fail.. besides the fact Rusty’s head is frozen, which would be funny even if it wasnt’ happenign to rusty, that just makes it go from chuckle worthy to giant uncomfortable laugh worthy, where Lincoln gives up: They’ll still be firends and he’ll still come visit but it’s best he just adapt to his new life instead of try and fight so hard against it and he’s starting to enjoy canada. It’s a well acted and sad scene that ends with a huge hug from clyde and another bit we’ll get to in a second.  But because having LIncoln in canada would be hard to maintain for a few seasons, and because as degrassi shows me the odds of him getting nearly beaten to death, caught in school shooting, stabbed in a parking lot or ending up in a kevin smith film which back then was a treat but now is a coin flip, are very high. Seriously he dosen’t want to end up in moose jaws, he instead gets banned from canada for three years for refusing maple syurp... which is also fucking hilarious just for it’s sheer rediculousness. Who dosen’t love canadian maple syrup?  So the ballance is restored, Liam has  moose now, and Lincoln actually gets the trailer heat turned down because he asked.. this plot was not very good as I made clear and drags the specail down and it’s in part because there were other joke and character opprotunites iwth ACTUAL middle school and instead it just comes off as another episode of “Smack lincoln around because tha’ts funny right” and wastes good opprotunity. It’s not all terrible, the canada jokes worked becuase they felt like they were in good fun and more a loving jab at canada instead of just using stereotypes for sterotypes sake, and given the loud sisters started as basic character achtypes it fits the shows tone. So canada part good the rest a huge disapointment. Also before we move onto Lori: Lynn.. was utterly terrible this episode. The girl one, obviously. Lynn Sr is usually a delight. Yeahhh while I don’t hate her like some do, I do find her to be REALLY hit and miss: she’s either an enjoyable additon to the episode, an intresting lead.. or an obnoxious nightmare who makes everyone around her suffer and is used for gross out gags.. which if nothing else it’s good their using a girl for it but it dosen’t make it actually funny? And here she’s Hall Monitor and a giant terror to everyone INCLUDING THE PRINCIPAL and it feels like a waste.. other episodes have had her be lincoln’s mentor when it comes to his shift to middle school and when the time comes where that would be utterly useful... she’s instead just a jackass because they coudln’t think of something better to do with her and it’s another disapointment.  The B-Plot: Lori Loud and the Infinite Comic Set Pieces This plot was better but likely would’ve worked better in a shorter episode to me if i’m being honest, but it’s grown on me the more i’ve thought about it.. plus it has Bobby! 

I haven’t really had a chance to mention it since most Loud Houses i’ve covered are after his exit and he only really shows up in lori episodes and I haven’t covered the Casagrandes yet.. but I love this idiot. He’s sweet, charming, kind, a good boyfriend, a good big brother, and a caring individual. Sure he’s dumb as a box of hammers, but he’s a good kid and post season 1 he and lori have good chemstiry. And he was easily one of hte biggest draws to the spinoff for me which has fleshed him out nicely with his work at the Mercado, showing he is good at something. He’s just a great character and i’m glad to see him back on the mothership, even if he doesn’t do much and at most just keeps coming back to help Lori move at a moment’s notice. But it feels less like her being selfish and more like him being selfless: Sure she’s asking a lot.. but he probably gets that moving away from home and into a strage place is hard for his lady and just wants to help her be happy and settle in. Because he’s the best. 

As for why Lori keeps moving part of it is the fact that the dorms at fair way are insane comic set pieces and I am here for it. She starts out at the silent dorm, which just.. no. No on that no. Then moves to the driving range dorm which is exactly what it sounds like and is a hilarious hurricane of balls. “Sigh” Archer if you would. 

And the sand trap dorm, which just has a giant bunch of sand in the closets for some reeason.. presumibly to keep darth vader away. And yes I get it’s supposed to mimic a sandtrap but theni t should be all around like the other dorms. It’s goofy, it’s dumb.. and I can’t help but laugh at it and the fact that Fairway apparently is so intense about golf they train students via having them live on certain hazards like this was an anime... and I would totally watch a spinoff about lori that was her undergoing anime golf battles. And I hate golf. Plus put bobby in there.. he can be on two shows. Make it a diffrent world but with dragon ball z golf battles. But eventually Lori comes crying home after breaking down, like any college student living away i’m told.. and that’s where the dovetail I mention comes into play. Lori overhears lincoln’s pep talk and decides to go back and face the exesntial nightmare that is her dorm life, giving her brother a sincre hug and thanking him for uknowingly helping her. It’s a really sweet moment. It’s why her plot works for me.. it has the emotinal weight that feels lacking from the main plot. It’s a bit repetitive, but frankly that’s the show’s bread and butter at this point and i’ts more a case of which repettition works better sometimes. That one moment saves the plot form being unwatchable and Lori moves into the water hazard floor of the dorms, and is finally ready. And while at first I thought the exagerated dorms lowered the punch of things.. it really dosen’t. From what i’ve heard Dorm life isn’t easy, and being away from home is even harder. My mentally anxious self would’ve broken down within days. Their just taking it up twenty notches because loud house. The real issue is lori being homesick, which I do feel could’ve been handled better, but for what hit is it’s okay. Not as good as it couldv’e been but still better than the a-plot. But it’s a nice bit of character stuff: it shows usually in control Lori out of her element and trying to adapt and hopefully we’ll see more of her this season in that context. And more of bobby, may he reign forever. Okay one more. 

The C and D plots: Leni and Lily Go to Preschool  This one won’t take long, thank god. Lily goes to preschool, the loud parents, after some empty nest.. enjoy having the house to themselves for the first time in years. They actually have TIME with no kids and just the two of them to goof off and, presumibly off screen, boink like rabbits.. granted that’s how they clearly usually do it given they have 11 kids but still. But Lily gets sent home for popping herself, and they have to teach her to go it’s eh aside from a few bits. As I said Lisa is the best part of this as Lynn Sr and Rita yank her out of school, with Lisa responding to Cheryls worries abotu her missing school with a dry “I think i’ll be fine without finger painting”. The resolution, or at least the start of it, is genuinelly clever. Turns out Lily KNOWS how to use the potty, she just dosen’t want to go to school yet, and the Loud Parents.. actually take this well, confronting her with it but gently, understanding she may not want to leave the nest and letting her stay. 

Meanwhile Leni ends up in preschool in the shuffle of not having Lori around to guide her one brain cell. Which is honestly hilarious and her outfit for the episode is fucking dope.. I honestly wish she’d wear her hair in a ponytail more often and the jacket is nice. I wish this was her new outfit.. like they could make it green so she’s not stepping on Lola wearing pink, but it’s a nice change of pace. But yeah it’s hilarious, especially since neither she nor the actual professionals notice and it has a nice bit of subtext on tumblr noted: She may be regressing, or simply enjoying little girl school because she misses her big sister and it’s easier than navigating a scary world without her best frined. To dig into it a bit myself we’ve seen in previous episodes that Lori is her rock, who she goes to when she has a problem in her solo episodes, who she relies on. Sure they fight over a closet but they depend on each other. We saw how worried Leni was about loosing her last season, and now she’s lost her and dosen’t know what to do without her. It’ll be intresting to see more of.  Or it’s because while she’s a capable young woman she’s also as dumb as a box of hammers like her future brother in law> you make the call. Eventually Leni gets sent back, and bemoans missing all the fun of preschool.. which gets Lily to go as she gets a trampoline, and the nest is finally empty.. also Leni goes back for a few more bounces. Yeah I love this kid. She’s sweet, kind, and hilariously moranic and voiced by LIliana Mumy who along with Carols is easliy part of my stable of voice actors. So yeah the family’s moving on, etc etc, and this review is finally over.  Final Thoughts: This episode was okay. It reaks of wasted potetial, but it’s a fine enough one hour, it jsut couldv’e been MORE with such a long run time and the lily and leni bits would’ve fit better in a seperate episode. It’s not TERRIBLE but it’s just an okay start to the season and a waste of good stories and good laughs in places. Still the show’s had worse, it’s just okay overall. Not TERRIBLE but it could’ve been FANTASTIC. Next week Leni deals with the lori power vaccum and Lincoln and Clyde snoop on the neighbors. Until then you can find other loud house reviews on my blog, hit me up iwth an ask for suggetsions or a dm to comission an episode you want to see me cover and until then, GO TEAM VENTURE. Play us out servo

#the loud house #lincoln loud #lori loud #lily loud #leni loud #lynn loud #lisa loud #rita loud #lynn loud sr #bobby santiago #clyde mcbryde #stella #rusty spokes #liam #zach gurdle #why do they have last names gah #the casagrandes #nickelodeon #bringbackthemaddogs #save rottmnt #middle school #canada