#and that’s how audrey found him? have people already thought about this??

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

[just-j-really]

Unsoulmates part four (a new hope)

Masterpost

Hob texts Morpheus two days after he and Audrey break up, because he's got two tickets to a ballet and absolutely no use for them anymore. He'd offered them to Gwen, first, but her girlfriend (her soulmate, actually, her soulmate she'd met at a Ren Faire in a moment out of a fairytale, complete with a kiss-print soulmark on the back of her hand) has even less interest in ballet than Hob does. And he knows bringing it up to any of his other friends will only get him concerned questions about why he keeps doing this to himself, wouldn't he be happier if he stopped actively avoiding his One True Love.

So offering them to Morpheus, who hasn't spoken to him in a month but probably won't do that, is the best option by default.

Shockingly, Morpheus replies. He even offers to meet Hob at the White Horse, a pub they'd frequented back when they were still sort of talking, to pick up the tickets.

Even more shockingly, Morpheus is already at a table when Hob arrives at the pub four nights later, like he's planning to sit and talk with Hob. Like before.

Hob is not entirely sure how he feels about that, but he's also running on maybe three hours of sleep, and the chair next to Morpheus looks extremely inviting, so he lets himself topple into it.

"If you ask me how I'm doing I'm going to get up and leave," he warns Morpheus, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. He might just take a nap here. It's been impossible to fall asleep, these past few days, without the warmth of someone else in bed with him. And it's so easy, lying there with the tangible reminder of how alone he is, to let his thoughts spiral into why didn't she stay why didn't she even consider it wasn't it worth it?

But here, with the warmth and the noise of people around him and this unbelievably comfortable armchair, an uneasy half-doze starts to overtake him. He's drifting, wondering where in the world Morpheus found an armchair, when a soft tapping noise drags him back to reality.

When he opens his eyes, Morpheus is sliding a beer across the table to him. He doesn't say anything, just looks at Hob levelly, and Hob thinks that's why, why he opens his mouth to say thanks, what comes out instead is a cracking, "Do you know what it's like, having people congratulate you for having your heart ripped out?"

His voice sounds even worse than he feels.

Morpheus inclines his head at Hob in that familiar little nod; go on, I'm listening.

It's a small kindness, but it still makes Hob feel like his chest is cracking in half.

"Everyone acts like it's fine. Like it's a good thing. 'Yeah it hurts now but at least you'll stop wasting your life, at least now you'll find the person you were meant for.'"

He takes a breath. Takes a drink. "Nevermind that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."

And then the whole story is spilling out of him, in an out-of-order slurry: the moment it happened- Audrey gesturing wildly as they ducked through the concert crowd, hand in hand; her stunned little gasp as her arm bumped another emphatic gesture-er; they way he'd stood there, confused, still holding Audrey's hand, while she and her soulmate stared longingly into each other's eyes.

The way she'd yes-anded even his stupidest bits, the way they'd had their own shared language of in-jokes, the way conversations with her were a dance and she always knew the next step.

The way, within a week, she'd scrubbed herself out of his life entirely, like she needed to fake her death to start her new life with The One.

"And- and I knew marriage wasn't happening, right?" he finds himself saying, some time and several drinks later. "Fuckin nobody marries their not-soulmate, which is STUPID. It's so stupid, remind me to tell you how stupid it is. But I thought. I thought we- I thought there was something. Something good. I thought maybe we could last."

The sentence gets much too wobbly at the end, and Hob swipes a hand roughly over his eyes.

"What did you want, then?" Morpheus asks.

Hob glares at him.

"If not marriage," Morpheus says, as though clarity were the problem there. He seems... sincere, though. Like he's actually asking the question, not trying to nudge Hob into an epiphany about the futility of his life goals. Hob's heard the second thing enough to know what it sounds like. And Morpheus has that- look, on his face. The Hob-is-an-insect look, but not. It's... it's like if that look were kinder, more genuine. More vulnerable.

So for what may be the first time, when asked that question, Hob actually considers his answer before responding. "I dunno what I wanted," he says. "I just want- I want someone to choose me. Not have me forced on them."

Morpheus stares at him. Studies him. As though the secret of life itself has somehow been hidden in Hob's face.

Hob stares back, pinned. Entranced. A little confused.

"You know," he says, after a moment, "I'm not actually a bug."

Morpheus sighs. "Come on," he says, "Let's get you home."

Despite Hob's insistence that he is fine, really, just a little tipsy and a lot heartsick and sleep deprived, Morpheus does walk him home.

Hob only remembers the tickets when they reach his building, and only then someone had stuck a sticker of a dancer to the back of a lamppost. "Here," he says, rooting around in his jacket pocket until he finds the envelope, and handing it over, "At least someone will get use out of them."

Morpheus stares at the envelope like he's never seen one before.

When he looks up at Hob, his eyes are glistening with tears. "Are you," he asks, quietly. He pauses for a long time, long enough that Hob starts to wonder if he'd handed over the wrong envelope, and then wonder what deeply tragic envelopes he could possibly have been carrying around.

"Are you going to look for your soulmate now?" Morpheus asks. His voice is as even, almost soothing, as ever.

He's looking at Hob as though the wrong answer will be his death sentence.

"Are you kidding me?" Hob asks. Despite everything, he finds himself grinning. "Never. The love of my life is out there, somewhere, I'm not going to discount them for something stupid like soulmates."

Morpheus smiles.

Truly smiles, for the first time that Hob has seen. It's a lovely expression, soft, hesitant, but so genuinely, contagiously delighted. And Hob knows, with the same bone-deep certainty as his disbelief in soulmates, that he'd protect that smile at all costs.

"Also," he says, because there's not much protection he can offer right not but there is always the shining, thrilling possibility of coaxing another smile out of Morpheus tonight, "I'm starving. Do you want to get dinner?"

[logically-asexual]

Style Queen Magazine sends a request for an interview with Gabriel about whether he has gotten or might get inspiration from the miraculous users for his work. Gabriel figures it would be weird to reject them, mostly because it’s Audrey’s magazine, and it should be fine as long as he’s careful with his answers, so he accepts.

the interviewer does ask many of the expected questions like what he thinks about Ladybug and Cat Noir’s costumes setting trends with young people like wearing polka dots or black leather or whatever, as well as general unrelated questions. later they subtly bring up the topic of the peacock by asking him about how blue, one of the colors he uses for his most striking designs, along with red and green, has been seen often in his clothes that also seem to be inspired by birds. and also about how the incoming trend of feathers sparked by that one hat Adrien modeled seems to already be influencing gabriel’s current work.

he answers normally until they mention that someone found an archived design from back when the Gabriel brand had just been established for a few years and it was still growing, but the dress was “ahead of its time” and under-appreciated. turns out it was a blue and green dress inspired by Emilie’s appearance wearing the peacock miraculous, but only Gabriel knew that, of course. he gets nervous when they show it to him, and when the interviewer asks about his inspiration for it Gabriel gives a generic answer that applies to most of his work, pretending it’s just some other random piece.

but then the interviewer brings up pictures of his newer designs, which, they insist, use a lot of rich indigo or royal blue colors paired with resemblance to birds and feathers. they point out that they couldn’t find other designs lately that seem to be inspired by the rest of the miraculous users, unless Gabriel would like to point them out (and, before he can answer) if not then, is he trying to bring back that original design because it has personal meaning to him? they guess not, since he didn’t seem to be very attached to it, so why so much interest in the peacock miraculous?

or rather.. why so much interest in Mayura?

this leaves Gabriel speechless for a moment. Nathalie is standing on the other side of the room about to bite off a corner of her clipboard.

Gabriel is a little red with anger and goes “excuse me?”

the interviewer says they’re only seeking to confirm the rumors about his inspiration for all these new clothes, and Gabriel quickly shuts them down by saying that he accepted this interview because Style Queen is a reputable fashion magazine and not some tabloid for gossip. and then he just stands up and leaves, with Nathalie scampering to catch up behind him.

later Gabriel questions Nathalie about those “rumors” the interviewer mentioned, because, as he can now see after looking it up, it’s all over the internet that he has a crush on Mayura and that’s why he’s making all these clothes inspired by her. Gabriel was totally oblivious to this because he relies on his staff to update him about his public image and he hadn’t even noticed what he was doing with his designs. Nathalie, on the other hand, did know about it, but was too embarrassed to tell him and she had no idea how to bring it up.

now Nathalie is apologizing, swearing that she thought it was just unimportant gossip that would dissipate soon. Gabriel says that anything that could link him to Hawk Moth and Mayura is a huge risk for them, and that he’s even finding already some people who claim Mayura must be someone working at Gabriel. Nathalie’s eyes widen in shock and she walks up to stand on the podium next to Gabriel and look at the screen. he opens an article about that theory and scrolls through it until he stops on a picture of Nathalie and him. around it, the text says stuff like ..about how everyone knows these two have something going on, but that’s not the topic of this article because it’s just clear as day,, the important thing is who is Mayura. and then they put up a picture of Mayura next to one of Nathalie.

and both Nathalie and Gabriel are like.. fuck fuck fuck. specially Nathalie, since she should have known about this and now Gabriel is looking at the screen like he’s going to punch a hole through it.

the article doesn’t have many views or comments but still they now just realized the danger they’re in. and they don’t know what will happen after today’s interview gets published and what everyone will make of Gabriel storming out the room after being asked about Mayura.

and now they have to come up with a plan to ensure people think 1. Gabriel is definitely not attracted to Mayura, 2. Mayura and Nathalie are not the same person. (and Gabriel’s secret personal third objective which is to prove (??to himself??) that he is NOT attracted to Nathalie, not at all).

[nicolettecallednikki]

Something silly I wrote last year and found in my drafts. It's incomplete and kind of pointless, but as I relate to the version of events I have in my head, I felt somewhat compelled.

Monaco Grand Prix, June 28th

He had gotten beyond wasted in Monaco last year when they'd fought about something, something stupid, and the videos of him obliterated had only made her more mad. Charles and Charlotte had fought too, and the girls had gone off together, had a sleepover and didn't answer their phones. This year, Isa couldn't make it, but he'd fucked up again and was spotted out with a Brazilian model, a friend of Kika's. That was the end of it, for Isa.

The Monaco curse was real, he surmised grimly.

Blanca's Wedding, July 9th

It took him a minute to place the familiar melody, but he recognized it from that movie Isa and his sister liked so much, the Audrey Hepburn one.

"Lando," he smacked his friend who sat next to him, "Lando do me a favor."

"Get your own drink," the younger man pulled a face, but Carlos shook his head.

"Go ask her to dance," he said, "She likes this song, it'll make her happy."

"Ask who to dance?" Lando questioned, before following Carlos' glance, "Oh."

"It's Breakfast at Tiffany's," he said, remembering the title of the movie.

"You go ask her," he nudged his shoulder, "I'm sure she'd rather dance with you, mate."

"I don't think so," he shrugged, but across the room Isa was chewing on her lip and he was standing before he could stop himself.

"Would you like to?" he extended a hand to her, and she accepted it with a small smile.

"What will your date think?" she questioned.

"Lando?" Carlos cocked an eyebrow playfully. Like this, he could talk to her, "He'll be okay."

"You didn't bring anyone?" she asked, but he shook his head sharply, "It wouldn't have been right, after I asked you to be here."

She snuck a glance at him. God he was gorgeous, but that had never been their problem.

"I'm glad you came," he said softly.

"I came for Blanca," she replied resolutely. Her other friends had thought she was crazy, but she really did come for her, and not for him.

"Thank you for being so graceful with the media," he slurred his words slightly, "I know I don’t deserve it."

She'd entered through a side entrance at both the church and the reception, so that no one would spot her coming in and distract from the bride.

"It's not for the public to know," she gave another small smile, "I didn't date you for that reason, and I won't use it against you, now."

"I'm glad you came tonight," he said. He'd said it a number of times to her already that evening.

"I'm happy to be here," she emphasized, "For Blanca."

Isa was a strong girl, but there was only so much she could take. She'd thought she was going to marry this man, and now that they're broken up she's putting an end to that dream, but his constant closeness to her, his hand ghosting over her arm as if he can't help himself, the way he leans in a little too close when he wants to speak. She'd planned on avoiding him all night. Not to make a scene or anything- just to steer clear of him. It should've been easy, she knew other people here, but it was like a magnet kept pulling them together and she wasn't sure how much longer she could resist the pull.

"I thought it was going to be us next," he slurred his words. Caco tried to drag him away from her, but drunk or not, he stood his ground.

"Me too," she replied honestly, "but life doesn't always work out the way you expect it."

"I'm sorry about Monaco," he said, avoiding the actual root of the issue, "It'll never happen again, you have to believe me."

"Carlos," she said it almost like a reprimand, chastising, before sighing, "Think of your sisters. If someone did that to Ana or Blanca, would you want them to still marry him?"

She knew she'd gotten him then. Although he was a little more than a year younger than Blanca, he was very protective over both his sisters, and would never allow them to be with someone that disrespected them as he had.

His face fell as he realized her point. He'd truly planned on marrying her, and it hadn't occurred to him that there'd be a scenario where they didn't end up together. Sometimes on the road, traveling all the time, at these sorts of parties- things happen. Everyone involved in F1 knows, things happen, but it didn't mean he didn't- doesn't still- love her.

Singapore Grand Prix, September 17th

Caco tapped his cousin, a phone clutched against his chest, "It's Isa."

"Why'd she call you?" he furrowed his brow.

"She wasn't sure if you wanted to talk to her," he replied with a shrug. Carlos' jaw ticked and he took the phone, moving away from the group for some privacy.

"Isabel?" he said, "Everything good?"

"I just wanted to say congratulations," her voice was lower than usual, which is saying something for his normally soft spoken ex, "That was genius strategy, with the DRS."

"You're just happy it got Lando P2," he teased. She'd always gotten along well with his former teammate, more so than Charles, even.

"That, too," he imagined she cracked a smile, "Well, that's all I wanted to say. I'm sure you have to get back to the celebration. Drink water- it's hot there."

Trust Isa to be looking after him, even now.

"I will," he promised, "And thank you- for calling. It means a lot."

"Of course," she said. There was a pause and he could tell she had more to say, so he prompted her, "What is it?"

"They're calling her your lucky charm," her voice cracked and he felt a clutch in his chest. He hated that he was still making her cry.

"Isa," he sighed, "They say all kinds of things."

"Do you believe it?" she questioned.

"I thought you said we make our own luck," he countered. She had said that- every time he'd called her his lucky charm, in the past.

"Well, you have been great since summer break," she insisted.

"Isa," he sighed again, "How did I win?"

"Qualifying well, driving smart, and giving Lando DRS," she summarized.

"There," he made an agreeable sort of grunt, "So if anyone is the lucky charm, it is Lando, okay?"

He always knew what to say- a Smooth Operator indeed, "Fair enough. Anyway, I didn't call for all this- you should be celebrating."

"Have a drink for me, huh?" he asked.

"I doubt you'll need my help," she laughed, "Congratulations again, and to Lando, too. You finally did it. P1-P2, like you always said."

"I'll tell him you say hello," he assured her.

"Do that," she smiled, "Bye Carlos."

"Good bye," he returned, waiting for her to hang up first, in case she had anything to add. He felt he had to treat her especially carefully now with this whole Rebecca business, because he didn't want to hurt her after she'd been such a good sport about everything.

When he got back to the group Rebecca pulled his arm over her shoulder, leaning into his chest. A minute ago that would've been fine, but now he was conscious of every phone, and therefore camera, that was pointed his way. When Lando called him over, he was glad for the excuse to step away.

Austin Grand Prix, October 22nd

The rumors were admittedly silly, but they were gaining traction. Even other drivers on the grid were joking with him and Esteban, asking which one of them were the baby daddy. Half out of courtesy, half because he was glad to have an excuse to talk to her again, Carlos called Isa.

He made sure to call at a time he thought she'd be by her phone, but not with her friends, Lord knows what those women thought about him, and he was hurt when the call went straight to voicemail.

Does she think it is true? he thought to himself, What other reason would she have to ignore my call?

He was relieved when a few minutes later she called him back, and when he picked up he heard music in the background, so he assumed she'd walked away from a group, knowing as he did that this conversation was best kept private.

"I hear congratulations are in order," she said icily, and he gnawed his lip, disappointed.

"Isa," he struggled to keep his voice even, "Isa, you know it isn't true. I wouldn't- I could never do that to you."

"I should know you couldn't?" she repeated, her tone unchanged, "Really, Carlos, that's your argument?"

His heart clenched, "Okay, then this- would I abandon a child? Even if it meant losing you?"

She was quiet and he knew she knew he had a point there. He wasn't a bad man, he'd made one- albeit gigantic- mistake, but overall she knew his heart was in the right place.

"I didn't think it was true," she said honestly, because she hadn't, not really, but it hurt to hear the rumors again. She had thought by stepping away from him she'd be out of that particular spotlight, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

"Are you sure?" he smiled despite the situation, and she confirmed, "Your father would have your head if it were true. No, forget your father- your mother."

"You're right about that," he chuckled, "You should've heard the phone call I got when this all started."

"I believe it," she wasn't so cold now, "Thank you for calling, anyway, I appreciate it."

"Of course," he said, "I owe you at least that."

"You don't owe me anything," she told him, and she meant it, too, "You've been a wonderful ex boyfriend, Carlos."

"Better than I was a boyfriend?" he asked and was met with a sharp intake of breath. He regretted the question immediately.

After a moment of careful consideration, she spoke quietly, "You were a great boyfriend, and I hope, one day, to call you a great friend. For now, I have to go, though. Thank you again for calling."

"I'm sorry, Isa," he said, "That was stu-"

The phone clicked.

Las Vegas Grand Prix, November 19th

After the disastrous race, Caco pulled him aside for some more good news- to let him know that Rebecca was pissed.

"What happened?" he asked. As far as he'd known she and Alex were enjoying themselves. His mother and sisters weren't as taken with the Scot as they'd been with Isa, but Charles' new girlfriend was forming an alliance with the older girl. Even that, though was compared to the friendship Isa had had with Cha.

"She was standing next to me when Lando crashed in lap four," his cousin explained, "And she saw Isa texted me."

"Why would Isa text you?" his head shot up.

"Relax, Primo," he said, "She was asking about Lando, that's all."

"She was watching?" he questioned, and Caco shrugged, "She watches a lot of races, I'm sure."

"Oh, you're sure?" Carlos' eyebrows raised, "Why, does she text you a lot?"

"Only when it looks like there's a bad crash," Caco answered honestly, and he saw a flash of something in his eyes that was not good.

"Did she text you after my crash?" he asked, and Caco frowned. His cousin had always been a bit of a sore loser, yes, but not a sore winner. He had Rebecca, why should he ask about Isa?

"To be fair," Caco pursed his lips slightly, "I don't think she watches Free Practice. And you were fine right away, anyway."

Carlos' nostrils flared, but he didn't respond. After a moment, he took a breath and said, "I'd better go find Rebecca."

[darkestprompts]

What’s one thing each hero does well without knowing?

Hm, the ask is a little vague, so I will interpret it as either things the heroes have the potential to excel at but never tried, or general skills they have but never noticed are out of the norm.

Man-at-arms: He thought of it as "tactical maneuvering" but in reality Barristan had all the makings of a great diplomat. He was much better at persuasion and charm than screaming orders. His talent was wasted in the military.

Abomination: Has a good ear for music, would learn an instrument easily if he applied himself. He has more sensibility than he gives himself credit for.

Antiquarian: Her fingers are very agile, but she never tried to learn sleight of hand. Thank fuck, because she'd be scary good at it and use her power for evil.

Bounty Hunter: Once Alhazred asked him if he ever studied the occult arts. Tardif told him to kindly sod off with that magic shite. He'd rather not know why he asked.

Grave Robber: Audrey never thought of getting her hands dirty before bankruptcy, but she would do well with gardening. She has the precision, the patience and the brutality to deal with weeds and pests. With her sharp aesthetic sense, she'd make beautiful pleasure gardens. Aren't graveyards just gardens for the dead?

Plague Doctor: Junia once told her she'd be a good preacher. Paracelsus laughed her way to the floor. It's true though. When she deigns to talk about something she cares about, she gets really passionate and eloquent, much like Reynauld. She just needs to learn to match her speeches to her audience. It's hard to be inspired by the biology of leeches.

Flagellant: Damian has very good memory. Perhaps that's part of what makes him so obsessive about sin, he never forgets his mistakes? He doesn't realize it's unusual, it has never come up. Mostly because nobody wants to talk to him.

Jester: Someone needs to find Sarmenti one of those 3D puzzles or building kits or anything of the sort. He's crazy precise with his hands and gets easily absorbed by the task. I imagine he could build one of those absurd domino mini-cities if you locked him in a room with enough material.

Crusader: Reynauld is a good army organizer for many reasons, one of which he never noticed is that he has an outstanding perception of space. He's the kind of guy that can estimate how many bricks should go in a wall at a glance. Could have been a master builder in another lifetime.

Hellion: When she finally learns to read, she will also learn the joys of writing. She will progress quickly by keeping a private journal and discover a knack for it. She and Dismas can workshop poems.

Vestal: It doesn't come up because of her vow of poverty, but Junia has a good head for managing money. She can squeeze a lot out of a tight budget and knows how to set priorities. If she was in charge of the Hamlet's finances maybe it wouldn't be falling apart.

Arbalest: Good with teaching and explaining things in general. She could instruct a few snipers for the Hamlet, if she was willing to let anyone touch her arbalest. If she got roped into teaching basic first aid the Hamlet would save a killing in Survivalist lessons.

Occultist: Even though he's a liberal arts guy, he can still make insane head calculations. He assumes the reason not everyone can make three number multiplications on the fly is just poor education. Everyone else thinks it's a result of witchcraft and the devil.

Highwayman: Dismas writes on scrap paper during his few moments of leisure, but he could develop a good writing hand if he had more time and a better set up. Maybe Audrey could teach him some calligraphy, she had to learn all that flowery crap. He'd find the end result very satisfying.

Shieldbreaker: ...Well, she already found out she's really good at killing people. Now she needs to realize she has a great poker face and capitalize on it. She could give Josephine a run for her money.

Houndmaster: He likes memorizing quotes from plays and novels, but it never occurred to him he could act or recite. Someone should make him read out loud.

Leper: Thinks it's totally normal that birds sit on his hand and baby fawns lay on beside him. "Oh, you just have to stay calm and not spook them". No, Baldwin, you are an animal magnet and people keep score of your ridiculous Disney Princess incidents.

Runaway: Would never think of herself as a sciency person, but one day her knack for systematically identifying plants will make Paracelsus delighted.

[twostepstyless]

Stuffing the Turkey

Fic Advent Calendar Day 15

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Authors Note: Harry and Y/N host an annual friendsmas but there's one guest missing this year and Y/N is already stressing about hosting Christmas Day for their families this year.

As always, reblogs, likes and feedback of any variety is always encouraged and forever appreciated - G <3

Word Count: 2.3k

SFW

———

The saying goes, ‘if you can’t take the heat then get out of the kitchen,’ but that can be hard to do when you’re supposed to be in the kitchen preparing a meal for what was supposed to be eleven people, but Harry just dropped the bomb that it was actually going to be twelve people. He decided to tell her that this morning, not last week when he found about the additional person, who was apparently his mate Johnny’s new girlfriend. What is it with men and not seeing any rush in passing on information? Harry and Y/N were one wrong look or one more reproachful comment away from a full-blown argument at this point. 'Friendsmas' started on their second Christmas as a couple. Members of their individual friend group had met and gotten along extraordinarily well over the 18 months or so they had been together at the time and so came the idea to host a Christmas dinner and bring all their friends together for an evening and the tradition stuck. 

This was the fifth year of Friendsmas. The cast of visitors rotated year to year, additional people brought in from making friends while working, friends from elsewhere who happened to be passing through London before Christmas, some people skipped a year for other commitments, some friends from their hometowns who came down for the event especially. No matter who was coming, they usually had a house full of people. Regular attendees included Mitch and Sarah who spent some time in the U.K. with her family before Christmas so always popped in for the free meal, and to see Harry in his frilly apron. Y/N’s childhood best friend, Audrey, also attended every single year. Well, apart from this year, she told Y/N a few weeks ago that she had a work deadline and unavoidable meeting the day of the dinner and to say that Y/N was devastated was an understatement. Y/N wouldn’t even be travelling to her hometown over Christmas this year, so she didn’t know when she’d get to see Audrey next. Her missing Audrey didn’t disguise how fuming she was at Harry though. 

“I don’t even know if we have enough to feed an extra person,” Y/N sighed, exasperated. 

“Don’t start with that, y’know we have more than enough, we’re usually eating leftovers until Christmas,” Harry shot back while stirring the soup they had simmering away on the stove top, “Christ, y’could’ve chopped the veg a little smaller, love, it’s taking ages to soften,” Harry said, he thought innocently but it sounded as if he was criticising her work, while peering into the bubbling pot. 

Y/N’s head snapped round to glare at the back of his head, “I’d have liked to have even seen you pick up a knife to chop the veg, love.”

“Eh, excuse me, I sorted out all the main course options, did I not?” Harry abandoned the simmering soup to turn around, looking comical with his hands on his hips clad in his red gingham apron that was decorated with frills and ruffles. 

“Oh please, you took everything out the packaging and stuck it in the oven and the slow cooker,” Y/N rolled her eyes, going back to her task of slicing carrots and parsnips to go with the main course. 

“I had my hand up that turkey’s arsehole, stuffing it for you because it makes you feel sick, I don’t even eat turkey and I still done it, so don’t give me that,” Harry retorted, he watched her back as he saw her head bow down and heard a sigh escape her lips, “want t’tell me the real reason you’re all grumpy, hm?” 

“M’not grumpy,” Y/N turned in her seat to look at him, sounding very grumpy. He walked over to where she was sat preparing the vegetables at the table in the kitchen and he perched on the edge of the table.

“Sure, you’re not,” he said sarcastically, before his tone softened when he saw her expression, she looked weary, for lack of a better word. “Hey, c’mon pretty, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just stressed about the dinner,” Y/N muttered, dropping the paring knife she was using onto the cutting board and began playing with a loose thread on her jumper, avoiding his gaze, embarrassed she had been quite rude to him. 

“Why? This is not our first rodeo with having everyone round for this dinner, we’ve been doing it five years now, I think we’ve got it down to a fine art by now,” Harry looked bemused, they really did have a good system going for preparing for tonight, but one thing after another seemed to irritate each other and cause things to go wrong. 

“It’s not this dinner I’m stressed about,” she whispered. 

Harry placed his hand under chin and moved her head, so she was finally looking at him, “explain please,” he gently coaxed. 

“Christmas Day dinner,” Y/N stated, as Harry’s eyes searched hers, “it’s just we’re having both our families here for the first time for Christmas day and I know we usually help out if we’re at m’parents or your mums, but we’re doing everything this year, and tonight jus’ feels like a practice run and we keep arguing and making mistakes and what if we ruin everyone’s Christmas and I don’t want us to fight on Christmas either,” Y/N spilled out, chin quivering with emotion as her lips settled in a downturned expression. 

“Okay, first of all,” Harry said as he crouched down in front of her, so he was perched just under her eyeline, as he held onto her clasped hands that were sat in her lap, “we’re not arguing, have we said some comments that have annoyed the other? Yeah, but m’not angry or upset with you and we’re not going to argue on Christmas either,” Harry said with a sort of finality in his voice, as Y/N nodded, she knew it was just her mind racing away on her that was causing all these thoughts. “Secondly, nothing has went wrong today, we’ve went a long way for a short cut, but nearly everything is prepped, it’s just the case of putting it in the oven at the right time, isn’t it?” his thumbs rubbed slow circles onto her hands. 

“Yeah,” Y/N looked around their busy kitchen, as much as they had had their moments today, Harry was right, everything was ready, just about, Y/N was in the process of finishing up the vegetables and everything they could have done was finished. 

“Right see, we’ve got it down to an art, and on Christmas Day, we’re just going to do an exact repeat of what we did today, it’ll all be muscle memory,” he reassured her before a grin took over his face, “and it’s our family. D’you really think they’d sit by and let us do everything, my mum will have her hand up that turkey before she’s even taken her coat off,” Harry laughed. 

“I’m being mental, aren’t I?” Y/N asked.

“Not mental, y’just care about making it perfect for everyone,” he smiled, pressing up on his feet to give her a soft kiss she happily returned, “an’ m’sorry for not telling you about us having an extra guest until this morning, I just didn’t think.” 

“No, you’re right, we always have a tonne of extra food, we could have four extra people show up and still have leftovers, think I just woke up stressed and took it out on you, I’m sorry,” she broke one of her hands free to run it through his hair that he had left loose and wild on top of his head, “and thank you,” she trailed off. 

“S’okay, m’heart,” he forgave her, “why are y’saying thank you?” he quizzed. 

“Thank you for sticking your hand up the turkey to stuff it ‘cause y’know it makes me feel gross, even though I accused you of not doing anything,” she smiled softly. 

“I’d stick my hand up a hundred turkeys if you needed me too,” Harry chuckled, “now why don’t y’go get washed up and changed for people coming, I’ll finish these up,” he nodded to the half-prepared tray of vegetables.

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely, go get even prettier, though I’m still not sure that’s physically possible,” Harry flirted before pulling her to her feet and sending her on her way out of the kitchen with a pat to her bum. 

*** 

The dining table was lit by the soft light of the dinner candles that were in the centre of the table and decorated other surfaces around the room, the glow making the glassware sparkle and cutlery gleam in the light. The couple had gotten their posh crockery, cutlery, and glassware out for their soiree, and had the table decorated with heavy cloths, ornate napkin rings and a Christmas cracker placed at every setting. The room was buzzing with chatter and laughter, as they all shared a drink before their meal, taking the time to catch up with all their guests. There was still one seat empty though, Johnny’s new girlfriends place. Y/N thought it was strange that he showed up without her but no one else seemed to voice it, so she paid it no mind. Harry had donned his frilly apron again, this time over his cream suit he wore for the evening, rather than the ratty t-shirt and sweatpants look he wore earlier. He was popping in and out the room as he made sure everything was coming along for their first course as he forced Y/N to sit down and have a glass of wine with everyone before she got up to help him. As she was hearing a story from one of Harry’s friends from home about their staff Christmas night out where the boss got so drunk, they had to send a companywide apology email the next morning, the doorbell rang. 

“Y/N/N, can you get the door, love, I’m just starting to plate up,” Harry called through from the kitchen. 

“Got it! Johnny, it must be your missus, y’want to come get the door?” Y/N asked leaning over the table to catch his attention. 

“No, it’s okay Y/N, I’ll be here,” Johnny said, there was a hint of something strange in his tone and in the expression on his fence as Y/N looked confused before leaving the room to get the door when the bell rang again. 

“Weird,” she muttered under her breath before her hand grasped the door handle and twisted, opening the heavy, wooden door. 

There was a woman, her back turned to Y/N, she had a thick, woollen, pink coat on, and her hair fell down her back. Very familiar hair at that, “hi, welcome, come on i-” Y/N cut herself off as the woman turned round. “Audrey?” Y/N gasped, as her best friend twisted round to face her with a grin so wide that it could split the sky in two graced her face. 

“The one and only, in the flesh. Hiya babes,” Audrey held her arms out to her sides as if to present herself before Y/N flung herself out the front door into her friends awaiting embrace. 

“What in the fuck are you doing here?” Y/N squealed, bouncing the two women up and down as she kept her grip around her friend’s middle. She broke away, eyeing her friend with the same earth-shattering smile. 

“Ask y’fella,” Audrey nodded behind Y/N as Y/N unlatched herself from Audrey to turn round to see Harry leaning against the open doorway, arms crossed, tea towel slung over his shoulder, a fond smile on his face, that made his dimple appear, etched onto his face as he watched the two friends reunite. “I genuinely wasn’t going to make it, Harry called me last week to double check, but he phoned about two minutes after I got an email saying the meeting was cancelled and the deadline pushed to the new year. Mr. Man over there snapped his fingers and here I am, and I’m bloody starving, hope you’ve got enough,” Audrey said, sarcastic in her last sentence, knowing they always made far too much. 

“Look at you two scheming behind m’back,” Y/N’s eyes flitted between Audrey and Harry as she led Audrey into the house, taking her coat off her to put away. 

“Happy I didn’t tell you about our extra guest, now?” Harry whispered in Y/N’s ear as Audrey knelt to pet Harry and Y/N’s dog, Vinnie, who was loving all the extra attention from the guests in their home, he had only just removed himself from lying under the dining table so he could meet the new visitor at the door. 

“Best surprise,” Y/N reached up to kiss his lips briefly, “thank you, that’s you got all the brownie points today, got m’best friend here and had your hand up the turkey’s arsehole, y’like Prince Charming,” she giggled against his lips before kissing him again. 

“Shall we get this thing going, first course is ready, m’love,” Harry broke away as he began to walk back to the kitchen with her following to help him. 

“Let’s do it,” Y/N said confidently, “Audrey, go take a seat, y’next to me and H,” she smiled at her friend before pausing, “wait, y’not actually Harry’s mate Johnny’s missus, are you?”

“Never even met the fella, but by the end of the night and a few glasses of the good stuff,” she raised the glass of wine Harry had given her up to Y/N as she stood in the doorway of the dining room, “who knows?” she shrugged with a wink before disappearing into the rabble of their friends that filled their dining room as their laughter filled the room and coloured their home with joy. 

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[oceangirl24]

Out of Context Dialogue

Feeling somewhat better today (yay!) and wanted to do something because I'll likely be sleeping the rest of the day.

Below is two sections of dialogue from the next chapter of Birthday Wishes and Valentine Kisses. No context, just dialogue.

Rules: What rules? I'm just making stuff up.😉

Tagging to play: @mrsmungus @tsunderewatermelon @lena-hills @mikaharuka @writingpotato07 @winterlovesong1 @justanotherpersonwhowrites @udaberriwrites @violetrose-art @kayedium-writes @theprissythumbelina

If anyone wants to be tagged and I didn't please let me know. I don't want to bug people with these. ❤️

Jon and Shawn:

“You wanna talk about somethin’?”

“Have you met the new gym teacher?”

“No, why?”

“He looks like James Marsden.”

“Who?”

Shawn rolled his eyes. “He’s a lot younger than you.”

Jon squinted at him. “Who is?”

“Brad.”

“Who’s Brad?”

“Shawn, I don’t know who you’re talkin’ about; you’ve brought up three people already none of whom I know.”

“Brad is the new PE teacher who looks like James Marsden.”

“Who's James Marsden?”

“An actor! C'mon!”

==================

Jon and Audrey:

“Who’s Brad?”

“Brad who? I know several Brad’s.”

“Shawn says the new PE teacher showed up in the middle of class today. And his name is Brad.”

“Brad Lewis? Yeah, Mr. Feeny introduced me to him right before my evaluation with him.”

“Ah.”

“Why?”

“Shawn asked me if I knew him. I had to say no. Apparently, I shouldn’t have skipped the last faculty meetin.”

“Skip? I thought you were sick.”

“Sick of faculty meetin’s. Besides I had to take Shawn to the doctor.”

“I took him to the doctor. You drove laps around the parking lot.”

“And the doctor was very thankful you went with him and not me.”

“Shawn says he’s young.”

“Who is?”

“Brad.”

“He’s twenty-four, graduated from Columbia, taught in Jersey before moving here a month ago. His family is from Pittsburgh.”

“You know his favorite color by chance?”

"You’re in a weird mood. What’s going on?”

“Nothin'. You just seem to know a lot about him is all."

"Mr. Feeny practically read me his file.”

"Does he look like James Marsden?"

"What?"

"Shawn said he does."

"Yeah, I guess he does now that I think about it. “

"He your favorite actor?"

"I like him but I don't have a poster of him on my wall if that’s what you're asking."

“Who do you have on your wall?”

“Oh the usual. Johnny Depp, River Phoenix, Leonardo DiCaprio. Guys like that.”

“Pretty boys, huh?”

“I only have them up there because I don’t have the one poster I really want.”

“Who’s that- Brad Pitt??”

“You in your hockey gear. If I had a poster of that I’d plastered it right over those other guys.”

“Hmmm I wonder if I could get my hockey card blown up to poster size.”

“You have a hockey card?”

“Coach gave all the players on my high school team individual player cards one year.”

“How much is this rare gem worth?”

“Exactly nothing. It’d get you laughed out of a card shop.”

“That’s only because you haven’t found the right collector.”

“That’s either really flirty or really creepy. I can’t decide which.”

“I don’t have any experience with this sort of thing and it’s still better than your lousy pickup lines.”

“What’s wrong with 'how you doin'?” .... “Wow not the response I wanted.”

[erikiara80]

What are your favorite theories?

Ciao, anon!

1) Well, my absolute favorite theory is that Will has powers.

I'm not sure about creation powers, but I believe he has a power connected to lights/elecricity. And Truesight/shadow walking. I also agree with the theory that Will created the fog that hid the demodogs in the tunnels in S2, because later Mike tells him that during a game he saved the party by casting Fog Cloud.

The connection to Henry/MF/UD, and him being able to spy Henry and maybe even convince him to not destroy the world is cool, really, but imo is not enough for his character, narratively speaking.

Also, it doesn't matter if Will and El are actually siblings. They've been paralleled each other from episode one. They are the Wonder Twins of ST, imo it would be weird if one of them has super powers but the other is just a victim who needs protection. Plus, Will having powers is the type of plot twist the Duffers said they love: the one you should see coming.

2) Love the theory that Will's powers are blocked. At first I thought he had the Soteria in his neck, but Pinkeoni's theory is better. We actually saw what took his powers and when it happened.

When he coughed up the slug. It would be a cool parallel with El. She lost her powers AFTER she killed that thing in her leg. So maybe the same happened to Will. The only weird thing is that it's after he coughed up the slug and supposedly lost his powers that he had the first vision of the UD. So, maybe... it's because when the UD took his powers, the connection between them began?

3) And I LOVE the theory that Will is already in a trance at the end of S4. I talk about it here but other people talked about it first. This theory is awesome because Will in a trance would make the ending of S4 even more dramatic, and S5 would begin with a plot twist! Epic.

4) The Mind Flayer as a living being. A sort of cosmic plant or fungus. Not necessarily evil. But dangerous. Especially after it merged with Henry into (imo) an Elder Brain. I think of it as a Langolier (in the SK novella, they're called Timekeepers)or the power in the cave (LOST) that merged with Jacob's brother and created the Black Smoke. Audrey II in LSOH. The Thing. The Serpent in DnD (as power itself. Time power?) The Nothing. The zombie-ant fungus. A Body Snatcher (The Duffers mentioned this movie in an interview)

I like that the gates growl like a living being, that the tentacles let Vecna fall like a sack of potatoes, and Dart didn't kill Dustin even tho Henry was controlling the hivemind. So many movies that inspired the Duffers have some alien sentient plant/creature that needs hosts. I'm a fan of both human horrors and Eldritch horrors tbh. Even better if they're combined (of course, it is possible). I don't care about human horrors are better! or Eldritch Horror is scarier! Imo, they're both awesome and make horror genre so fascinating.

5) I love the eightfifteen mystery. Is that some sort of constant? The moment when different timelines were created? Cool reference to the Oceanic Flight 815 in LOST.

6) One of my old theories is the Lich theory. DnD Vecna is a lich and in order to become immortal he placed his soul in an object. A phylactery. I'd love it if the grandfather clock was a sort of phylactery

7) And not gonna lie. I also still like the coma theory. The fact that both Henry and El fell into a coma... The two people with powers. And I think Will has powers too? So, maybe? I don't know how long it would last. But it's not impossible.

But now I'm obsessed with another mystery. The last person who went missing in Hawkins, in 1923. I've already found interesting parallels with other stories, but now I found something even better. And it's even mentioned in the show! Yes!

It's so interesting. I'll post about it later. Or tomorrow.

Thanks for the ask, anon!

[quillsinkwell]

Sneak Peek of Chapter 12 of BTC!

A necessary conversation and epiphany that has been delayed for too long.

(Henry's point of view)

Life was relatively going well at the safehouse.

Allison was growing fonder of them every day, and although Tom seemed the same, Allison swore the same was true for him.

Norman seemed to recall more of his human self, from small moments at the studio, to details about his family and past that no one else knew.

Porter and Bendy were helping Audrey train her powers so that way she could get stronger, and it seemed to be going well.

And Bendy was growing more comfortable talking to the other people in the safehouse, even it was just short phrases.

There was one concern that plagued Henry's mind.

Sammy.

He didn't speak often after what Tom had said about his 'flock', and more often than not simply laid on the cot, facing the wall.

It worried Henry, to say the least.

He had hope that Sammy was getting better, that he was recovering from all that Joey had done to him, but Tom's statement seemed to have sent him back into spiralling into his own mind.

Damn it, Tom! Why couldn't you have just been a jackass to only me like you've done all the previous cycles?!

He knew there wasn't a point to asking that question. He already knew the answer.

Tom had plenty of reason to be a jackass, especially considering who was in his safehouse, but that didn't change the fact that it pissed Henry off.

Henry. What is the matter.

AH! Uh, nothing, it's nothing, Henry thought back to Bendy, having gotten semi-used to the demon's telepathy.

Henry. Do not lie to me. I can sense your unease and fear.

It's really nothing, bud, besides I don't wanna put this on you.

...You let me confide my deepest, darkest secrets and dread within you, it is only fair that I return the favor.

Well, he had a point. And Henry would be lying if he said he didn't wanna talk about this with someone.

Alright, you got me. It's Sammy.

What about him? Is he causing you pain?

NO! No, it's the opposite. I'm worried about him. He hasn't talked to any of us since Tom gave him the news.

Why do you care?

Because he's my friend. I care about him and I want to help him recover from all of this like I do with you.

I see, I see.

Thanks for letting me talk about it, bud.

It is no problem.

Henry fiddled with his hands.

He had to figure out a way to fix this.

•••

(Bendy's point of view)

Bendy really didn't want to do this.

He stood at the wall separating him, Audrey, and Porter from the others.

It wasn't too late to back out. He could just go back to sleep with the others.

Bendy wasn't especially fond of Sammy. He found him extremely irritating.

On a good day, he was useful for doing something Bendy wanted.

On a bad day, he was a pest Bendy found use in solely as a target to unleash his rage upon.

He truly didn't understand why Henry cared about Sammy Lawrence. He was irritating, clinging, and creepy.

But, Henry was a saint, and in a past life he was friends with Sammy, so it wasn't too surprising that he chose to befriend him again.

And Bendy was a core part of Sammy's disheveled mind, so he was probably also a core part of undoing his insanity.

Still didn't change the fact he didn't want to do this.

He used his abilities to melt his way through to the wall to get to the cell that Sammy was in.

Come on, Bendy. Do it for Henry.

•••

(Sammy's point of view)

Sammy.

Sammy's slumber was interrupted by a sudden call into his unconscious.

A very familiar call.

He turned to the opposite side of the wall to see the Ink Demon (albeit in his tiny form) staring at him..

He immediately bolted to sit up straight and properly face the Lord.

Sammy. We need to talk.

Sammy gulped.

So this is how I die.

####################################

Thank you to @preciouslittletoonette for your lovely comments, thank you to all of my lovely readers for liking and reading the fic, and I hope you have a nice whatever time it is in your timezones!

[gloriadenton]

Tell me about the Twin Peaks ones

@scioscribe and @bedeliainwonderland also asked about peculiar hunger of black velvet! <3

chablis along the midway: post-s3 Audrey/Cooper, let the old people fuck at the Roadhouse (also Tammy is there to say hi!). An excerpt:

It was five twenty-three a.m. when the call came through, and Cooper threw his arm back from his face to the flash of a number with a Washington area code on his cell screen.

“Cooper here,” he said, low over the hum of static that was there on every cellular device he’d used since he came back from Odessa, the sunsick drone that had followed him down the wires to his rental house out east.

“Cooper, it’s Tammy. I’m at the Calhoun Memorial Hospital. Audrey Horne was admitted here around midnight last night—I came to take her statement.”

He sat up headlong. “Audrey?”

“Deputy Briggs found her up by the border while he was out on drug surveillance. Gordon called me first because I was already stationed in Montana for the research I told you about, the saloon that stayed up during the town fire.”

Static took over on the line. Cooper braced himself with a hand on the mattress. Most calls from across this distance made him think of how little it would take for him to come unstuck inside the rush of electricity, like a half-transmitted newsreader on antenna television. Audrey was at the border, in the hospital, a few hours behind him and held steady at a deeper point of the night than the one he was held in now. “Have you seen her?” he asked, hoarse.

“I’ve interviewed her already,” Tammy said, still with that badge-flash brightness to her voice even after her dark hour on the highway. “She said she’d talk if I bought her something to smoke when she gets out of here this morning.”

“So now you’re driving out to the nearest drug store,” Cooper said, closing his eyes to the thought of Audrey on the other side of a lit cigarette, a hot flare of light like the wink of a ruby or a radio tower. “She likes Metropolitans—king size, red carton. At least, that’s how they used to make them.”

peculiar hunger of black velvet: This was also going to be post-s3, with some general speculation on where I'd like Laura, Cooper and Audrey to end up eventually, primarily sad metaphysical Laura/Cooper but also fix-it Audrey/Cooper endgame. I started this not long after the s3 finale aired but work was crazy and it was a bit too big for me to think about so it stayed very fragmentary and I haven't played around with it all that much since, but now I'm reading it and it's kind of exciting to see again. Another excerpt:

“Laura,” he said, “we don’t do this.”

But Laura swayed down to kiss him again, so close her hair fell over him with a scent like a slow wink of anise.

In the evidence boxes from the Palmer house, there had been a glass perfume bottle tied with a lattice of satin ribbon, a cocktail umbrella, a small plastic ballerina with a skirt made of net the exact texture of a surgical dressing. Diane, I am holding in my hand a pink-veined flower petal, a little curled around the edges. The ribbon of the bottle he’d untied himself, with some care, and after that he had sprayed and inhaled once, twice, caught in a kind of tender shock by the possibilities it had suggested, the wash of violet that hit him like dusk blown over a misty river. While the perfume counter at Horne’s clarified the where of it, he doubted it came to her through the man himself.

It had hurt him, then, to know these all as things that Laura had taken for herself, between swathes of red. It seemed to him now that there was an honor in being taken.

[dizzydizney]

Hey, you might already be aware of this but the anti-Mal brigade found your post about how Mal didn't do anything wrong. Honestly the amount of energy those people spend telling other people that they're wrong about how they see a fictional program is exhausting.

Not to mention there's a clear double standard here--Uma attempts regicide but that's okay, she's standing up for her rights so you can't criticize her. Audrey throws a coup that's almost successful but her grandmother said something mean to her and she had to watch her ex boyfriend propose to his current girlfriend so go queen. Evie actively tells a client that they can breathe after a major event when the client states that they can't breathe in the dress they're wearing but it's okay because Evie was also a VK and wasn't the client's therapist!

Meanwhile Mal backslides a little after D1 because she put all that pressure on herself to be a perfect princess (oh look pressure! Isn't that the thing that Audrey stans say completely excuses her coup?) and runs back to the Isle after feeling like she has no support system after she attempted to talk to Evie and Carlos and just got shut down. Mal even states that it's better for Auradon and Ben for her to be on the Isle because it's only a matter of time before they rise up against him for dating her and she doesn't want to see him get hurt.

Nope, all anti-Mal complainers see is the 'it's been so hard for me' and the spell attempt (which should have not been done). But let's compare shall we? Living your whole life preparing to be king at sixteen because it's apparently Auradon tradition or living your whole life as a villain learning how to be more villainous than your mother and now expected to throw that life aside and be an Auradon girl after only six months.

The double standard in fandom is exhausting!

agree agree agree

but never mind all of that honestly bcoz they really read my post and thought i was serious and typed out an essay response sksksk

[captainthomasrobbie]

What remains of Chad Charming

Part 1;

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

My beloved Nemesis

Part 2; (2/29)

The lunch was quiet and tense, but the little food that Chadwick got was good. Barely able to fill full him, but he ain't gonna say anything, just like always. His father was called in early and had to leave, duty Called. Chadwick tried his hardest to put the collar under his shirt, not like it helped him much. But people didn't stare so much at least. That was until he decided to leave too, carrying his tray to the window, a hand came throwing his plate all over the floor. A loud laughter striked from every direction. ,,Aww, is our little Cindy going to cry? Boo, boo... Well? Aren't you going to pick that up? The glass won't peace itself back together to form your glass slipper, honey. Let me tell ya, yous magic already left ya." Snarked someone behind him. Chad was furious, first Audrey, then the collar, the food and now this?!

,,Oh really? Sure! There we go-" He picked up pieces of the glass from the floor not caring if it's going to cut him. ,,Turn around, bend over, I'll show you where my shoe fits!" He warned, as you could tell, the others weren't happy about his answer.

That's how he found himself in the back of an alley, broken nose and blood all over his body, plus a purple swollen eye, just to be sure he would remember his lesson. He couldn't even defend himself, the collar stopped him from doing so. He just laid here and took it, like a frickin rackdoll.

He laid there for some time before someone found him, that someone was unfortunately the one and only dwarf and boyfriend of Carlos, princess Evie and Jane.

,,Chad? Chad, oh my god, are you okay? Can you hear me?" Named one opened his one functional eye to see long brown hair and cute nose with glasses on top of it, Doug. Fuck. Chad internally groaned, he knew that Doug wouldn't just let him go after finding him like that, nearly passed out in a back alley.

Smaller man helped him sit up, making blond whimper, his arm is probably broken, ouch. He looked up into deep green eyes.

That's how he ended up in hospital, his arm was not broken, luckily, but his eye got infected and he won't be able to see on it for at least another month. Again, fuck. Why does this keep getting worse? What had he done to deserve this?

Luckily they gave him something to numb the pain, numbing his brain too.

,,W-Why do you think- that people wear glasses? Why? If not to take deadly aim?! Is- Do they want to kill meh?" He slurred out tiredly.

Doug was sitting on a chair next to him.

,,No, Chad. I don't think so." He chuckled at him.

,,Hey, D. How big were Clifford's parents if- if- to have a puppy 50ft high?" He breathed out looking over at his company.

,,I don't know, Chad. That's not a question I would need an answer for..." He laughed.

Chadwick crumbled his eyebrows together, looking like if he was thinking very hard about something.

,,I thought your prime orgy thing was to answer questions as sooner as pastable though." He whispered after a longer while. And this time, since the older one was currently drinking his water spit out and choked on it, unable to stiff his enjoyment any longer, nearly dieing from his laughter. ,,There are so many wrong things in that one sentence!" He commented between his breathes.

It was nice, a little bonding time among two young boys. If you didn't know them you would have probably though they were two good friends.

But no... Their friendship was long gone, Dough moved on, he got tired of Chads poor excuses for not coming to hangouts and his lying. He found himself someone better... He forgot about their earlier friendship... But Chad didn't, couldn't.

He still remember those long nights when the two of them sneak out from their room to lay on the roof staring at the stars, talking about all the things they will one day do. Talked about their dreams, their future loves and spouses, having fun. He remembers how Doug helped him with his homeworks and how they were learning together, reading books to each other and fantasizing. He remember going into museums together, thrugh different expositions. From arts about renesance to interactive animal show. They would always buy something to eat, something to drink.

He misses it, after all this time, all those years, he is still hoping for all of this to come back, to bring it back. But it's gone, it's long gone.

He remembered how it ended, when it ended. They were in 6th grade, they were planning to go for lunch in some bookstore and then come back to school. That day, Chadwick decided, he will tell Doug what he feels. It was his first love.

Surprisingly Doug reacted positively, he said yes! Sadly everything went to shit, when he went to tell his father. He never saw him so angry. His veins were popping out, arms crossed with his fists clenched, his eyes dark and squinted, his teeth gritted out, sharp, like a wild wolf would.

He didn't leave the castle for something like a weak, and he didn't have anything to tell his dear boyfriend what'd happened.

When he came back to Auradon, Doug didn't believe him. He thought Chad just played him like an old man's kazoo. Chad never felt so hurt before, he tried to explain himself, but Doug didn't listen, for him, the prince Chadwick would always be a liar. As it always was, and it always will be...

He remembers Dougs last words... As hurtful as they might be.

Why should I have a heavy heart? Why should I start to break in pieces? Why should I Fall apart for you?

That night Chad cried. He didn't know what he did, or what to do next. He was stuck.

So for the moment.. Chad just opened his mouth weakly, looking away with tears in his eyes. A quiet whisper like a snake biting into the silence, Chadwicks words, broken.

,,I never meant to make it such a mess... I'm sorry."

Part 3

[oddchirithy]

Yu-Gi-Oh 5ds Ghost

Based off a Yu-Gi-Oh 5ds fanfic I read back in middle school (inspired some ocs) and recently found a while ago. Unfortunately the notebooks I had that contained the prologue and ocs profiles were thrown out a couple years ago so I'm relying off memory. 

Summary: Audrey just wanted a worthy opponent to gain back her confidence. Ren wanted her to leave them alone and to stop snooping around before she tried to look into their past.  So maybe, the offer wouldn't be bad to accept.

Note: Also posted on Quotev. I was stuck between using Audrey or another oc that was meant to be Yusei/Akiza's kid, but chose Audrey because I didn't have a good enough name or character design for them.

Animatic

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

Audrey sighed as she repeatedly swiped down on the phone's screen, her feet swinging back and forth. She'd said goodnight to her mother mere minutes ago and yet just looking at the bright screen made it feel like ages. 

"This guy.." she muttered. 

She placed her palm against her cheek and closed her eyes. 

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

A figure dressed in a green jacket stood up straight from the wall they'd been leaning against and began to walk. Not a minute later, they paused to look up at the night sky. 

        A brunet man stood before them with his muscular arms crossed, saying something that they really didn't care enough to remember. Vaguely, they could recall his comment about how "they been working with each other for a while" and how "It's nothing personal, but there are better people". 

How stupid of him, they thought, although not unexpected, especially for a man as himself. Oh well, they were already long done with what they'd needed anyway. Truthfully, they were hoping for him to just be done with his talk already. 

He had activated his duel disk as a challenge. They went along with it.

It was so easy, so mundane, for them, that it was over in a second. The man lied face down on the hard concrete, duel disk broken. They left without a glance to spare and drove back to their home, the previous events fading from their mind. 

        The wind blew on their dark hair, making it sway side to side and brush against their skin. The green jacket was undone and hung loosely around their shoulders.

'She's probably waiting for a reply' they thought absently.

Audrey. To be more specific, Audrey Atlas, daughter of famous Turbo Duelist, Jack Atlas. With a blonde French bob, excluding the two strands of hair that fell nearly to her shoulders, and fierce round purple eyes. Almost exactly like her father.

Just more annoying. Quite persistent. She was the type that jumped into things once it caught her interest. Apparently, they themselves became one of those things after their duel was interrupted before one could finish the other off.  And since then, it seemed Audrey was determined to get them to compete against her in some sort of tournament. 

She had tried to convince them with the promise of a better life, and better education. When that didn't seem to work, she tried to appeal to their "sentimental" side and how they should duel against her to remember what it was like to duel as themselves and not as some feared vigilante. They gave a vague response that seemed to appease her at the time, before being given her number. She'd left after they gave her a warning about coming alone, and she, thankfully, understood.

And now, a few days later, they stood outside of their home, phone in hand, as they mused on whether to respond now or to think for another day.

If they competed and won, they'd go to some university and receive an education that ultimately they wouldn't make anything of along with the reputation of the person who defeated the daughter of the one and only Jack Atlas. On the other hand, if they lost, without a doubt, they'd still receive attention from the media, not as much if they'd win, but with time they could fade to obscurity. If it was somehow a draw, it would certainly cause a rematch, only leading to more attention regardless if they won or lost. 

Losing seemed to be the best option if they accepted. 

If they refused the offer or straight up ignored her, they could go on as if nothing happened. They could live their somewhat normal everyday life. Pretend as if they didn't meet Audrey or as if they didn't receive an offer. 

But that wouldn't be normal. Not at all. 

'Well, it wouldn't hurt to try her idea', they contemplated. 

The message was sent. And everything was set into motion.

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

'...! Is that-'

Audrey's eyes snapped open as her screen lit up. She felt her heartbeat slow slightly at the message. 

'I'm in'

She couldn't help but smile slightly.

[books]

Tumblr Exclusive: Forestborn

Do you like shapeshifters, epic quests, magic, dark forests, and obstinate princes? Well, have we got an exclusive excerpt for you!

Forestborn is an upcoming @torteen novel by debut author Elayne Audrey Becker. Becker graduated from Vassar College with a BA in classics and history. She is currently continuing her education at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland after time spent as an editor with a New York publisher. She grew up with a lake and woods as her backyard, spending long days outside and visiting national parks with her family.

Forestborn will be available at bookstores everywhere from August 31. Read the exclusive excerpt below, and thanks again to Elayne for sharing her inspiration moodboard with us!

Forestborn By Elayne Audrey Becker

One

I find her deep in the Old Forest, facedown in the dirt. 

Sharp pain needles my palms where I’ve balled my fists so tight, the nails have carved half-moon marks into the skin. Snaking across the twig-strewn ground, gnarled roots press against my boots like a warning as I roll the young woman onto her back. Best to be sure.

No, she is certainly dead. Cold, stiff, and hungry like the rest; even with forest debris masking much of her shirt, the threadbare cotton dips in unmistakable rivulets across her bony frame. I swallow my disappointment and push her eyelids shut, wanting to spare her kin the sight of those empty, pointless eyes.

“Sorry,” I murmur, sitting back on my heels. “I’m guessing you didn’t deserve this.”

Around us, the trees lean inward and down with ominous uniformity, leaves and branches straining against their holds, drawn to the dead woman as if tethered by ropes. The sway, the humans call it. I ignore the prickling in my belly. They’ll straighten out soon enough when the magic leaves her body. 

With a final nod, I push to my feet and wend my way back to the forest’s edge. It’s a close wood, with broad oaks in summer bloom crowding the grassy floor, their leafy canopy admitting shafts of sunlight that glitter like crystal chandeliers. All in all, too peaceful a setting for someone driven to madness to die alone. I breathe it in deep to savor the scent while I can, grateful that for whatever reason, these trees never seem drawn to the magic in my own blood. I’ve had enough of vengeful wilderness to last a lifetime.

“Well?” Seraline asks, her knuckles nearly white where they clutch the hem of her shirt. 

I shake my head. “Dead.”

Her shoulders sink. Though Seraline is sturdy as iron when she’s in her aunt’s tannery, shaping leather into draft horses’ yokes, standing a determined two paces behind the tree line now, she seems shakeable as snow.

“Come on,” I say, nodding to the stony town just across the open fields. “You’re going to be late.” I don’t ask if she plans to examine the body for herself. Seraline may have insisted on coming as a show of support, but our friendship has many limits, her discomfort with the dead and dying the least of them. 

After a brief hesitation, Seraline falls into step at my side, sweeping her seeing stick across the ground in broad strokes. “Poor thing.”

I nod, my jaw clenched tight. 

This time of year, the late summer air hangs heavy even in the early morning, enough that the back of my neck is already slick with sweat. The barley fields remain mercifully empty as we pick our way through the dusty rows, but still I plow forward with my head down and shoulders bent, half from habit and half spurred by the hour. Seraline isn’t the only one who’s running behind. 

“Will you not come with us?” she asks, her head tipping to the side as we near the town. “Aren’t you due back in Roanin, anyway?”

“I can’t,” I reply, making it sound like an apology. I’m not really sure why we still play this game when we both know it’s futile. “I have a few things to take care of first.”

“Today of all days,” she snorts.

“You know how it is.” In truth, I’d give my right arm to stay away from the capital today. But there’s no help for it.

“Her husband deserves to know,” Seraline adds after a while. “The two of them were inseparable.”

“He will know. The trail wasn’t hard to follow.”

Seraline is always trying to persuade me to talk to the deceased’s families. She believes I have a softer manner than many in uniform, and once she even called me heartless for refusing. That time hurt the most. But it isn’t my job to report any deaths I uncover to next of kin. Only to the king. And it’s not like she’s stepping up to volunteer, anyway.

Briarwend is a humble farming town that stretches all of three streets, a collection of squared off stone shops that deal in necessity rather than charm. Its weather-worn residents are the same. When I began seeking intel here four years ago, long days tending the surrounding fields made the people lazy and open over a couple of pints. Lately, they’re just hungry, poor soil and rising taxes leaving gaping holes that only tempers seem to fill. 

Each night under dwindling lamplight and over stained, sticky tables, the pub dwellers deal out anger and judgment like tossing seeds across the earth. The battered forest walker I helped home last night is not the only magical person I’ve found bleeding on cobbled streets. The humans’ anger is growing fists.

Seraline’s family is fixing their horse’s harness to an old wooden cart when we reach their cottage home. Most others have long since departed.

“Where have you been?” her mother demands, tightening the leather straps. The roan mare stamps a hoof, ears flicking nervously in my presence. “We should have left hours ago!”

“Lela needed my help. And you’re not ready, anyway.” Seraline shrugs.

“Nor are you. Breakfast is gone, so you’ll just have to wait. Go get changed.” She studiously avoids my eye, as if I’m not even there. 

Seraline bids me farewell with a light touch on the shoulder, which causes her little sister to quickly interlace two pairs of twisted fingers and pull them apart. The sign to ward off bad fortune.  

���You shouldn’t indulge my sister,” the dreadful Arden says once she’s gone, stomping over and swiping a greasy hand across his forehead. By far the weakest sibling in this family of four. “Seraline is delicate. She can’t be tramping about the kingdom with the likes of you.”

Which is ironic, really, since he was eager enough to sidle close last year, when he thought empty flattery might earn him a kiss. That was before a too-often empty belly soured his tongue, before he learned who and what I was. And though I truly could not care less what this boy thinks, I’m dismayed to find my stomach still burns with anger and something close to shame. My gaze drops to his pant leg, which bears splotches of dried blood from the night before. 

“Problem?” Arden sneers, white skin burned red from long days in the sun. 

A slow tingling feeling bubbles up from my core, threads of numbness that tiptoe across my arms and legs. I force myself to breathe deeply, to beat the threads back. “I know it was you,” I mutter. 

He traces his chapped lips with two fingers, beady eyes darting to his mother before he leans forward, his smile stiffening. “You know nothing,” he hisses.

“You forget I have certain resources at my disposal.” I raise a hand in front of his flaking face, where my nails have sharpened into claws. “And that I know where you live.”

I stare until a satisfying trace of fear tinges Arden’s expression before stomping away toward the town’s single inn, which is little more than a guesthouse with four creaking rooms. If Helos were here, he would tell me to not take the bait, that I’m better than that. What he never seems to understand is that I’m not better than anything at all.

[cloudberry-sims]

A Decade Through Time: The Alderberg Legacy: Year 1579

More birthdays and deaths , It feels my game is after the Alderbergs.

Also a morbid fact: it´s 20 years since Philip died 💀 He died in 1559. 

From the Beginning I Resent

It was a beautiful early morning in 1579 when Rebecca woke up to feel a kick. 

To her joy and surprise , she was once more expecting a child.  

Rebecca , not seeing her family since the birth of Henry decided to bring Griffyn with her to meet his maternal family. 

She was happy and jolly to see her sister , who actually wanted to tell Rebecca something alone.

The elder twin thought it could be the announcement of a engagement , so she left her son in the arms of his eager grandmother Joan.  

First Rebecca told Susanna about her own good news of expecting her third child , then asked who the lucky man was. Confused Susanna asked what she was talking about. 

It turned out it was not a betrothal Susanna wanted to tell Rebecca , but that she was leaving Outland. 

“ Mother and brother found a job for me at a estate in Praveen as a maid and I decided to accept it. This could be my chance of moving up in society and find a good husband-”  

But Rebecca stop listening and start calling Susanna a fool for thinking like that. How is it being a maid to a noble family ever gonna help her social statues? She would just be cleaning and being used for daily labor! She won’t have family with her either! 

Both started to argue over this and in the end Rebecca left with Griffyn. She didn’t even say goodbye to Susanna when she left Outland the week after.  

Ever since finding out about her sister departure , nobody was truly safe from Rebecca's viper mood swings. Worse was for Geoffrey who tried to get her to calm down for the baby's sake. 

But she dismissed him harshly , how did he know anything about pregnancy anyway? Her baby was doing fine and just leave her alone! 

The only one who could calm her down was William. His honey words and strong hands helped Rebecca to relax for bit.  

Audrey’s 13th birthday came and went. Nobody could deny how breathtakingly beautiful the young girl was , her father had already got multiples of marriage proposals.

But Audrey was not interested in marriage at this moment , she had other plans. She been tending to the beehive outside of the farm and came up with idea of selling candles once the market place is up. She had her father's , brother and brother-in-law’s permission. Even if a bit dim , she had a business kind of sense.

It was not only Audrey who had a birthday , but Abel Horthall as well. He was now 6 years old and his mothers favorite son. He was different compared to August- he was clumsy and cowardly , but with a good heart. 

One the third quarter of 1579 , Rebecca went into labor. It was a third son... 

But the little boy didn’t make it. It devastated his parents , especially his mother. William had to hold her as Geoffrey and Joan took the infant away to be buried. To make sure the child went to heaven , they named him Joseph. 

Losing a baby was hard on Rebecca , she blamed herself regularly. It was now a more common sign of seeing mrs. Alderberg running through village and to the woods.

When people asked William he said she believed running the sorrow and guilt away will help her heal. And it did , physically at least for her body felt stronger then before and had more energy to do things around the home again. 

But sims can’t out run grim reaper , for 3 months after Joseph birth and death, Henry grew terrible ill. They now only had 1 remaining child left. 

By the end of 1579 , weeks after Henry’s funeral life was going back to normal for the Alderberg family. 

Rebecca had her 20th birthday and worked hard around the house. She was handy and constantly needed things to do to stop thinking about what a horrible year it had been.  

At the Horthall resident, Arthur celebrated his 30th birthday. He was proud over the things he managed to do with his life- He had 3 beautiful healthy children , a lovely and loving wife ,  a successful tavern and soon a marketplace hopefully before winter comes. 

1579 was a bad year for this family , I can’t believe both Henry and Joseph died :( I feel like my game hates Alderberg men , remember I had to veto William’s death roll back when he was baby because I couldn’t take it. Griffyn you better stay alive kiddo, I at least want 3 generations of the Alderberg name. 

Audrey rolled a marriage roll , though I’m unsure when she will get married. Perhaps later since I think William will fight Geoffrey if he tried to set something up if Audrey was under 20 years. She might marry a merchant since she got born saleswoman or a farmer since she loves animals. 

Just need to figure out her name family name will be...   

[nobodyfamousposts]

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why...   ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well. 

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh. 

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it. 

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..." 

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”