#as my friend says I've been a 'poor deprived thing'

[pocket-notebook]

He can't be tied down ... just yet

[novelizt]

I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ angst + fluff, fake relationship

SYNOPSIS ➺ you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press and give his company publicity.

WC ➺ 10.9k

DISCLAIMER ➺ actress! reader. the fic also sings the "all these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret" beat. lockwood calls reader "darling" and "starlet" because... you'll read why. i'm not sure if The Daily Gazette is a real thing. if it is, i mean no slander — this is merely fiction and I needed a publication name.

NOTE ➺ this is for the oldest/only child who takes on a lot for their family — i see you. also, imagine the nick-priyanka chair pull; i like to think that it's lockwood and darling in a nutshell. my ideas were all over the place so this came out a bit messier than i anticipated, but it is lockwood content so i hope you enjoy! especially you, @t2sh0 !!

They say the brightest stars are the ones that burn out first. That was probably what the gazette was counting on, at least.

Ever since you stepped into the limelight, and shortly earned the title of London's Darling, they made a dime a dozen in making your business their business. They would sing your name to high praise one moment then drag it through the mud the next.

You were content with letting them run their mouths, because it was no skin off your nose, but you drew the line at insulting your family.

Someone at the gazette thought it would be absolutely riveting to write about the dirt poor origins you were raised from. In the article, they not only criticized you, but put your parents under a microscope as well.

"All that really happened is, their daughter put on diamonds and called herself a queen," the Daily Gazette said. "It's only about time until they return to their roots—of which aren't much."

They insinuated that you might not even be your father's daughter—or if you were, it wouldn't be long 'til you came out to be as ill as he was. They called your mother weak for not being as proacticve in generating money, and you a fool for being their lapdog. No one in their right mind would just sit and let a publication sully their name like that.

If they were going to make up hullabaloo, you were going to step ahead and give them something else to talk about, and what better play than having London's Darling Starlet fall in love?

It had came to your attention that the gazette had set their eyes on one agency in particular: Lockwood and Company. Specifically one, Anthony Lockwood.

Where they besmirched your name, they glorified his. The kid was talented at weaving through a conversation, you'd give him that. From what you'd read, you already knew he liked being in the glare of publicity.

You were taking a gamble when you walked right up to their statute of work without a disguise. If the someone at the gazette saw you, you hoped that they would get the ball rolling. All that would be left to do is recruit Mr. Lockwood.

But Lockwood hadn't been the one to greet you at the door. You tried not to appear too shocked, but no one really expects to see someone geared in oversized cleaning gear. Whoever it was looked more alien than human.

"Arif's?" the curly haired boy inquired.

You were tempted to scratch your head, because what in the world was an 'Arifs'?

You were conjuring up a response, but then the boy was shoved aside. The girl who had taken his placed looked both inquisitive and sleep-deprived at the same time. Some kind of recognition happened in her eyes and you smiled, mirroring hers.

The curly haired boy looked positively disturbed by it.

"Hello," you said delicately. "does Mr. Lockwood happen to be in at the moment?"

"He is," the girl said. "You must be the Darling of London. I've seen you in the papers. My friend, Norrie, would be so happy if you could—"

"Luce?"

You weren't usually struck by strangers but you knew right away, that it must be him: Anthony Lockwood. He had the timbre and tone of a well-trained celebrity. It was no wonder the gazette was tripping over themselves to write him.

"Lucy's busy smiling at the Darling of London, or whatever she called her," the curly-haired boy reported, akin to a child who wanted to see their sibling be scolded.

"George," Lockwood turned his attention with a terse intonation. "why don't you pop on the kettle?"

George's smirk fell. He muttered something at Lucy before retreating to the door beside the stairwell. The wide berth he left gave you your first glimpse of the gazette's most recent favorite.

Anthony Lockwood was a spectacle in a suit and tie, looking exactly like his pictures in the papers. He cleaned up nicely enough. You just couldn't help but wince at the disarray his hair was in.

"Lucy, will you please?" Lockwood gave Lucy a look. She cast a glance at you before hesitantly joining George in the kitchen.

You made a mental note to ask about her friend, Norrie, later. It's the least you could do for her saving you from George.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Lockwood turned his attention back to you. He leaned easily against the doorframe, giving off the impression that he was conversational enough, even if you weren't being very good at being polite.

"Welcome to Lockwood and Co., I'm Anthony Lockwood," he said courteously, flashing a smile that would make the press go crazy. You've seen just one like it on cast mates, but he had done it so well you know he'd practiced to get it perfect, or maybe he was naturally good at smiling. You wouldn't know. His voice waded through your reverie. "How can we help you?"

"The kind of help I need isn't a usual request, Mr. Lockwood," you said forwardly. You glanced over his shoulder before offering a chaste smile. "May I come in?"

—

You didn't expect an audience of three after being lead to the receiving room. Then again, you should have. The reasonable assumption was that you were here for ghost-related troubles. You weren't sure how to clarify that you weren't.

You accepted a cup of tea and took in the air in the room before proceeding. Lockwood was sat right across from you, attentively bent toward you. Lucy was trying to keep on a amiable façade in her seat (likely to get a signature for her friend). George was... being himself. He was an odd one, but he had rid himself of his space suit, so that was nice. None of them seemed to be hostile though. That was always a good thing.

"I have a personal favor to ask of you," you started. You rested your hands over your knees, retaining your resolution. "and it involves the recent rumors about me."

"Which one? The one about your prissy attitude or the inevitable downfall of your entire family?" George wasn't as ignorant as he made himself out to be. He took a sip of tea when Lucy glared his way. Lockwood didn't look too surprised by his snide, George must regularly be like this.

You stifled a laugh of your own, amused by his forward nature. "Both, to be honest. The gazette has been generous with their slander lately." You tapped your finger on your knee. "One can only take so much . . . That's what brought me here. I need your help to keep them under control. You'll be properly compensated, of course."

"Miss Darling—" Lockwood started. It wasn't your name but you let it be since he sounded genuine enough. "—we are a psychical agency. What you're asking, it's out of our area of expertise."

"I am aware of that, but I'm not making this request to Lockwood & Co.," you said firmly. You steeled yourself when you set your eyes on him. He flinched under the intensity. "I'm asking you directly, Mr. Lockwood."

George hunched forward, unsuccessfully staunching a laugh. Lucy had straightened in her seat, eyes bugged out of her head. And Lockwood? The surprise on his face couldn't have been fake. He blinked and blinked, but his brain couldn't catch up.

You went on. "My family's been involved. I can't sit idly by while their names are being tarnished. I need something to dissolve those rumors, or at least distract the public enough to forget about them."

He cleared his throat but it was clear he was still ruffled by your earlier admission. "And how would I contribute to that?"

You tried to sound professional, but even your most prim tone sounded odd when it came to a request like this. "I need you to court me."

George stopped trying to muffle his laughter. He even grew bold enough to take a biscuit to snack on. "This is rich. 'Court' and 'Lockwood' in the same sentence? Never thought I'd see the day. You're better off with someone like Quill Kipps, Miss Darling—was it? At least he can act."

Lockwood shot a glare at George but he didn't budge, smiling as he devoured his biscuit. Lucy had recovered and gave her two cents. "George is right. Lockwood doesn't have the best track record in terms of subtlety."

Lockwood looked affronted. "I'm not as bad as you make me out to be."

"You're right," George said gleefully, smiling at you with his eyes. "He's worse."

"You know what," Lockwood said with renewed inspiration. "I'll help you, Miss Darling. Regardless of what my colleagues have to say." He turned his attention to you. You almost cracked a smile at the sheer determination in his complexion. Anthony Lockwood clearly despised being bad at anything. "I'm at your service, starting this very second." He poked the table to enunciate every word. Amused didn't feel like an apt word to describe what you were feeling.

"I was hoping you'd be the opposite of subtle," you said with a polite smile. "You're an enigma to the gazette, Mr. Lockwood. I need you to attract as much attention to us as you can."

He lifted his chin with that award-winning smile. "Consider it done."

George was still grinning to himself, finishing off his biscuit with a dodgy sort of laugh. Lucy had thrown herself back, likely holding in a sigh by the way her shoulders sunk.

Regardless, you felt hope rush through you as you reached across the table, sealing the deal with a handshake that shouldn't have been half as memorable as it was.

—

Lucy's Norrie had set off the domino effect, and you would be forever grateful for it. It didn't take long for the gazette to catch wind and write up their narrative.

!! LOCKWOOD & CO.'S SPECIAL CONNECTION TO LONDON'S DARLING

Recipients, it has come to our attention that London's Darling has shipped out a special signed poster for a friend from Lockwood & Co. The two parties have never had an interaction prior to this instance. We suspect a budding alliance from two very distinct worlds. More about Lockwood & Co.'s most recent escapade on page 7!

It was the first time you finished reading an article without your jaw tensing. It was doing well for your family's temperaments as well. Your mother was now inquiring about the blooming relationship between you and a certain someone instead of agonizing over the manic rumors told about the family. Whenever asked, you feigned ignorance and left the conversation at that.

—

The next time the gazette wrote about London's Darling and Lockwood & Co., it had been about a genuine act of kindness that had been caught on camera.

The trio had finished up a case late in the morning and you dropped by to gift them a hearty breakfast. You didn't intend for the gazette to pick up on the minute interaction, but they always found ways to weasel their way into things. If you didn't despise them so, you would have given them credit for their tenacity.

!! LONDON'S DARLING NOW BECOMING THE DARLING OF LOCKWOOD & CO.

Recipients, an insider recounts the story of seeing our Darling at 35 Portland Row. Coincidentally, the official offices for the psychical agency, Lockwood & Co. She narrates that the starlet had hand-delivered doughnuts and some other necessities; Actively taking time out of her bustling schedule to tend to the operatives she has recently befriended. For the first time since her limelight debut, she has a heart! Our insider also notes a particularly bright smile from the agency's founder and boss, Anthony Lockwood. Is this another one of our Darling's summer flings? See page 4 for news about Darling's controversial role in unveiled coming-of-age film.

You saw a couple reading the recent print as you were walking to Portland Row. They were particularly giggly, so it was safe to assume that the public was falling for your theatrics.

You arrived to Lockwood's abode with a smile.

—

"The gazette's gone feral, haven't they?" George exasperated, throwing the paper on the table after he had cut out Lockwood & Co's bit in the headlines. "You didn't even have to try for this one, did you?"

"Not at all," you chuckled. "They have a way of finding out, even if we don't mean for them to."

"They could have chosen a better picture," Lockwood murmured, eyes permanently narrowed at the cut-out George had hung on their wall. "I did not look that worn out that morning."

"I can't remember it, so I can't lie," Lucy said passively. She slid a pot of tamarind soup through the disarray of cups and papers. It gave you a wider glimpse of the doodles on the cloth. Lockwood had explained the nuance of the doodles earlier. You strongly believed anyone would find the scrawled notes (and insults) endearing.

You leaned over the table as the fragrance of the soup wafted into the air, like tendrils of smoke tempting you for a taste. You held back a smile and tried not to stare at their dinner for too long. You had more self-control than that, but, despite your best efforts, your stomach had a mind of its own.

Your stomach didn't usually rumble but it had chosen that specific moment to do so. You tried to play it off but the members of Lockwood & Co. had already paused in their steps, turning to you with varying levels of surprise. George looked disturbed; Lucy, startled; and Lockwood, amused.

"Hungry?" Lockwood asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not at all," you waved off. He saw right through your stoicism with a growing smile. "It was just a stomach cramp," you insisted.

He didn't move his eyes away from you as he pulled out a chair, but didn't sit in it. "Can't send you home with your belly doing that, can we, George?"

"The gazette might as well write us up for being terrible hosts," George said agreeably.

Lucy set out an additional plate and bowl. "We have a reputation to uphold, you know."

There was an air of something you couldn't quite place. You saw Lockwood's smile first, amused and welcoming all at once. From the corner of your eye, you found George and Lucy doing the same. There was no other word that could describe the moment other than 'warm'. With a feeble smile, you sat in the chair Lockwood had pulled out for you and tried not to look like a mangy raccoon in the midst of a famine.

Only when the sound of clinking cutlery and plates filled the room did you muster the courage to speak again. "Thank you for having me."

"Don't mention it, Starlet," Lockwood said, nudging your side. "You're the reason our clients have been burgeoning lately."

"Who knew a movie star had so much influence?" George asked rhetorically. "If we keep this up, we might be able to afford more biscuits."

"Even if that happens, the biscuit rule stays," Lucy stated, pointing her spoon at George.

There was always something gleefully odd about this place. Sometimes, it was hard to keep up. "What is this biscuit rule?" you asked, looking between all three of them.

"I'll tell you after dinner," Lockwood promised, carefully placing a bowl of soup next to your plate. "Eat. You must be starving."

You withheld the urge to smile but found that, even with your experties in pretending, you had a hard time acting in the company of Lockwood and Co.

—

"How strict is the biscuit rule rotation?" you inquired Lucy.

You had never experienced sleeping over at someone else's house. Doing so, at your mature age, felt a little zany. Not that you could do much about it.

The expert (Anthony John Lockwood) was firm about not letting you walk home at this dark hour. Even more so because the sun had set earlier than expected. Hence, the reason you found yourself rooming with Lucy for the night.

"Strict," was Lucy's answer; half with you, half not. She was at the vanity, writing in a journal. Likely for her friend, Norrie—if their names scribbled on the front was anything to go by. She looked so focused, you would have guessed she was aspiring to out-write the folks at the Daily Gazette.

Defeated, you heaved a sigh and submitted yourself to a few moments of quiet in a place so unfamiliar.

The bed bounced under your weight. The springs you heard in the mattress reminded of you of home, yet, the stars on the ceiling reminded you that you weren't. Most of them clung on but some had fallen off, leaving behind star-shaped irregularities in the paint. You counted four fallen stars before you were reeled back by the feeling of another weight falling beside you.

"Comfortable, Miss Darling?"

Lockwood.

You righted your posture. He sat up with you, taken-aback by your shift in demeanor.

"Yes," you said stiffly, combing down your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay the night."

"I couldn't let you go in good conscience," he said offhandedly. "Don't be tense. I'm only here to offer pajamas."

Your eyes found the neat pile stacked right beside him. The little act of kindness had warranted him a smile, one he returned with equal sheepishness.

"Thank you," you said again.

"It's no trouble." He flourished his hand as he said it. The springs creaked again when he shuffled off the bed. "Sleep well, Miss Darling."

"My name or just 'Darling' is fine, Mr. Lockwood. 'Miss' is much too formal."

"It's Anthony then, darling." He said it with such resounding charm, you almost regret allowing him to continue on that way. "Sleep well," he trailed off.

He stared at you, like he was looking for something in you. You were accustomed to getting weird, prolonged glances in the street, but you felt conscious when it was him. You blamed it on First Sleep-over Jitters. When you finally averted your gaze, he snapped out of his reverie. With a noncommital smile, he jerked a thumb at the door. "I'm right downstairs if you need anything."

"I'll keep that in mind, Anthony." As you said it, you couldn't shake the feeling similar to stepping into a classroom for the first time. There was a flash of surprise on his face before he schooled his expression, back to his notorious smile.

You wouldn't have known, but he couldn't shake the thought that he'd never heard his name sound so nice before.

He held back a smile as he said, "Goodnight then, darling."

You did worse at hiding yours. "Goodnight, Anthony."

You said his name so carefully, he ought to think he was important. Even if the smiles exchanged were bashful, it encapsulated his world.

He retreated to the steps, halting to occasionally look at you before Lucy had gotten sick of his snail pace and told him to bugger off. She had taken her side of the bed when her journal entry for Norrie was finished.

"Is he always that odd?" you asked her, taking the pajamas and heading to the bathroom to change.

The clothes were light, but they weighed much more to you. Who could blame you for admiring a simple shirt and pajama pants? That was your first sleep-over, after all.

Past your ogling, you could still hear Lucy's voice through the door. "Who, Lockwood? Not usually. Suppose he wants to make a good impression."

"Because I'm your highest paying client?" you inquired in a sing-song tone, slipping the shirt over your head. You should have expected the smell of lavender to engulf you.

Lucy snorted, laying back on her pillows. "Because he's a fan, Miss Darling."

"You can call me by my name, Ms. Carlyle," you chuckled, trying to keep your tone even as you examine which way the pajama pants go.

"And you can call me by mine, Miss Darling," she retorted.

When you got your pajama situation under control, you poked your head out of he door. "Touché, Lucy."

She tipped her invisible hat. "I try, Miss Darling."

"Is my name ugly?" You questioned, tone bordering on a sigh. You set yourself down on the vacant side of her bed, planting straight into the pillow on contact. "Just tell me that it is, I won't be offended. Why else would people avoid it like the plague?"

"Miss Darling does sound odd, doesn't it? In my opinion, it's quite regal. You should change your surname to it, honestly. The word just fits you."

You exhaled, catching sight of the stars on the ceiling once more. "And who gave you that absurd idea?"

"Lockwood did," she told you, taking you by surprise. You physically reeled at the fact. "He watched—What was the name of that film again?—Timeless. You played the teenage version of the main character. He wouldn't shut up about the movie for ages, said your character was his favorite. I believe her name was—"

"Darling..." you whispered the same time she said it.

"—and he kept going on and on and on about how you were the epitome of the word. He wouldn't put a stopper on it," Lucy shook her head, recalling his raving vividly. "We couldn't get him to shut up, even while we were off on fieldwork. Eventually, it stuck with us. I couldn't unsee you as 'Miss Darling'. Then the press started calling you 'The Darling of London'. It only proved his case. If there was a word more fitting than 'insufferable', 'Lockwood' would be it."

You believed snorting was the only correct response to that.

"I'm surprised he hasn't fallen over himself trying to impress you," she chuckled. Lucy crossed her arms over her belly, cozying up to her pillow. "Don't tell him I told you though. He might take away my turn in the biscuit rotation. He can be petty like that."

"Sounds childish," you muttered.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Lucy said with a shrug. "He already thinks he's God's gift."

"He's in the good graces of the Daily Gazette. So, he's close enough to it for me," you chuckled.

"Only you would think that." Lucy shook her head. "Go to sleep, Miss Darling. Else you'll have nightmares 'bout him."

"Is that a real warning?"

Lucy shut off the lights. "Yes," she said into the dark.

It was far too late for you. Just seeing the gentle limerence on the ceiling brought your thoughts right back to him.

Unbeknownst to you, Lockwood couldn't put his mind to rest either. Him knowing you were just a stairwell away was an involuntary shot of adrenaline.

—

Amusement parks smelt like burned popcorn and sugar. It was unbearably noisy but the neon lights and the shining attractions negated the cons. Lockwood thought he might just kiss you for bringing them here on a Thursday.

There were enough people to make the place feel alive but it wasn't so crowded that they couldn't get on the rides they wanted to try.

He namely appreciated that fact because Lucy and George didn't look too upset about being out of their element. They looked excited, even. Lucy was glancing at a shooting game and George was oddly fascinated by the horror house.

As if driving them here wasn't surprise enough, you dropped a heavy pouch in each of their palms with the simple instruction to knock themselves out.

After agreeing to meet up before dark, the group broke into three. Lucy went off to win herself a rapier, George was off to scare the clowns in the horror house, and Lockwood was trailing behind you.

"You can do your own thing, Anthony," you reassured, lined up for cotton candy. "I can handle myself in daylight."

"Darling, I'm a gentleman. I can't leave a dame alone in such a vast scape," he replied, bold enough to tap your nose. "What kind of make-believe boyfriend would I be if I did?"

He was amused by the way you rolled your eyes. Lockwood was convinced that only you could make something so trivial so enigmatic. Warmth prickled on your cheeks, turning them the same shade of pink as the cotton candy the store owner handed to you. You ordered one for Lockwood before telling him, "Press isn't here—they'd have to pay the tall entrance fee to enter. At ease, soldier."

"Negative. I'm staying by you—as a very concerned friend," he rebutted with resolve, asking for a brief pause to receive the cotton cone spun for him. "Is that so bad?"

"I thought you three deserved to enjoy some time away from work," you confessed.

You didn't know where to head so Lockwood steered you toward a bench, guiding you with one hand on the small of your back. It took all your effort to keep your expression neutral but you continued to chatter, biting down the urge to grin like an idiot.

The only way you knew how to distract yourself was to speak. And speak, you did. "You're either working with ghouls or with me for you know what. I thought you'd be sick of me by now," you joked.

"Of you? Never."

He said it like it wasn't an arrow straight to your heart, and you couldn't shirk the feeling that you should have prepared yourself better. He was Anthony Lockwood, after all.

Like the heathen he is, took a sizeable bite out of his fluff of cotton candy. In your favor, your attention was drawn somewhere else. His upper lip was crusted in princess pink sugar and he was flashing his princely smile, completely unaware of his mustache. You pressed your lips together to keep your laugh in.

He lowered his head, trying to meet your eyes, to no avail. You screwed them shut and curled into yourself to keep your composure.

He cocked a brow. "Cute as you are, I want to know what are you laughing about."

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly. You took a glance at him and snorted.

With a pinched expression, he looked at himself in the reflection of a metal stall then he rubbed the sugar away with the sleeve of his coat, scarlet tinging his ears.

"Never speak of this," he told you.

You mimed yourself zipping your lips and he nodded, satisfied.

Your composure broke the moment he crossed his arms and hunched into himself like a kid.

—

You'd been to that same amusement park many times in your life. You rode the same rides back when you were a starlet in the entertainment world. You won the same prizes when you wanted to impress your parents. You ate the same food you did when you were a tyke.

All those memories, and none of them compared to experiencing all of it with Anthony John Lockwood. His incandescence weaved into every new memory, leaving his face seared into the back of your eyelids. Even if you tried to deny it, the pain in your cheeks reminded you that you spend hours on end smiling with him or at him.

Despite your best efforts, his presence made you feel something you never expected to feel for anyone. There was no word for it, and you refused to give it a name.

When the sky theatened to turn orange, you snagged his arm and drove him all the way to your favorite ride. Even if you craned your neck all the way, you could never see the top of the ferris wheel. Perhaps Lockwood could, but you were too timid to ask.

The decorative lights looked weak in daylight but it was magical nonetheless. Nothing could complete your day like hopping into your favorite gondola and seeing the park from all the way up.

When you pulled him back, he had to complain. "That one was empty." Lockwood frowned at the dandy green gondola that circled past.

"No, no. We can't take that one, it has to be this one."

Lockwood had never seen so much excitement shine through your usually collected demeanor. It was like a breath of fresh air. He couldn't bring himself to fight you on it.

When the coral pink gondola swung to a stop and creaked its doors open, you pulled him right into its bowels. The interior was vandalized with countless pens and markers. Even in the chaos, he recognized your penmanship. It was messier than it was now but it was undeniably yours. Only you swooped your 'y's that extravagantly.

Someday soon, I'm going to be the biggest star you'll ever see!

Some of the ink was scratched off but the message stood the test of time. He wondered if you remember even writing it, but one glance at you told him all he needed to know. You paid no mind to the vandalism, eyes enthralled by the rising view outside. He felt his cheeks ache from the beginnings of a smile. He forced it down when you laid your eyes on him.

"Just wait 'til we reach the top. The pathways form a giant star if you look down. There's nothing quite like it."

Endeared, he asked, "How did you find that out?"

If your smile was anything to go by, the memory was very fond to you. "The first time I passed an audition, my parents took me up here and told me to look down. I was terrified of heights back then but they told me some things were worth conquering fears for." You let out a seraphic laugh at the memory. "I saw the giant star . . . and I swore that I'd be a bigger star than it one day; that all their sacrifices would be worth it. They did their best to support me and my pipe dream. I would pay back their labor, ten-fold."

"And you did," Lockwood said in an out-of-breath kind of way. You didn't know what to make of it.

"And I did," you whispered in reply. "I even scribbled my promise somewhere in here. I don't remember where exactly. May have been scratched off."

"Maybe," Lockwood chuckled, leaning his side against the wall; hiding your kiddish penmanship from your view. He had no explanation as to why he did, but he'd rather you to focus on the present. You achieved a lot between then and now. He thought it was much nicer to look forward than to look back.

He didn't realize how long the trip to the top would be. The silence didn't feel tense or forced, it was comfortable. Like an air of understanding had made the air warm instead of still.

Perhaps it was you and how unguarded you had become since stepping into the gondola, but all he knew was that your honest heart inspired him to be brave. He took a leap in a brightly painted gondola, miles up from the ground, just about to touch the clouds.

"My family would have loved seeing this," he said.

Your eyes tore away from the view to look at him. Curiosity whirling in those eyes of yours. "Where is your family? I don't think I've seen them. Are they abroad?"

When you looked at him like that, he forgot all his fears. "They aren't around anymore."

Your expression heartened. You turned all your attention to him. "I'm so sorry, Anthony. I shouldn't have—"

"No," he interrupted you, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I want you to know."

Your lips quivered, forming something that was a half-smile, half-frown. "I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know." His eyes fell to his knees, picking at the frays of his coat sleeves to distract himself. "My parents were researchers. They wanted to know what rituals other cultures had to communicate with spirits and keep themselves safe. They were working when they passed away. My sister, Jessica, she was ghost-touched." Everything came out when he was looking directly at you. Knowing you were paying attention was solace enough. "You should have seen the ghost when I was done with him, ha. As for my family . . . Even if they're not around anymore, they continue to remind me of the most valuable lessons. I do my best to never forget."

"Must be why you're so protective of Lucy and George," you said lightly, offering him a sunrise of a smile that brought back the color into the world.

"I am," he said with renewed confidence. "I'd do anything for them."

"Like make deals with prissy, troubled actresses?" you jested, bumping your knee against his.

His lips twitched, threatening a smile. "Yeah." He bumped his knee to yours but didn't move away, content with being close to you in any way you'd have him. "Exactly."

A smile crept up your face. "You have a wonderful family now, Anthony."

"I would say the same but I realize I haven't met them yet."

You threw your head back, laughing. The sound was so precious, he wished he had half the hearing of Lucy to remember it well. "Someday, Anthony. Someday..."

"I'll hold you to it."

The light that filtered in turned yellow, touching your face with gold. The sun was dipping between the far hills and, finally, your gondola had reached the pinnacle of the wheel.

You gently cupped his chin to turn his attention to the view. Your touch made his breath hitch, but the view had successfully stolen the air from his lungs. Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn't have predicted just how breath-taking the view was.

True to your word, the amusement park was laid out in a way that made the pathways draw a star—the stall lights that began to appear accentuated the shape. The stripped roofs of the attractions were like swirling patterns that encircled the the display. For lack of a better word, it was stupendous.

Your voice matched the sereneness of the moment. "My grandparents said that seeing fireworks from the top of a ferris wheel was an experience like no other, but with the Problem and the curfew, we might never be able to see something like it..."

"Wouldn't hurt to dream though, would it?"

You chuckled. "No, it wouldn't..."

Vaguely, in the reflection of the window, he saw your smile. A true, unfiltered smile. It's the brightest you'd ever appeared to him, and it was worlds better than the view you were gawking over.

The magic fizzled when the gondola began to decend, bringing you closer to earth and away from the utopia in the middle of a ferris wheel.

He couldn't recognize you once your mask came back on. Lockwood didn't realize why until he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye.

The gazette had spilled coffee all over a perfectly good day.

—

!! LOCKWOOD'S DARLING

Recipients, we can confirm that there is a blooming romance between London's favorite Starlet and Lockwood & Co.'s charismatic leader. In the middle of a busy week for both individuals, they set aside time for a romantic ferris wheel ride in Starcrest Amusement Park—an ideal recreational venue for families and couples. See also: additional reports from our inside sources on page 7.

!! A DARLING'S DARLING

Recipients, we have more news on London's most fetching young couple. Both Darling and Lockwood have been growing bolder in putting their relationship in the spotlight. Recent reports state that Darling had invited Lockwood and Company to her film set — a feat of trust we haven't seen from her until she'd been swept of her feet by her latest and only suitor, Anthony Lockwood. He even presented her a bouquet of her favored flowers upon visiting. Backstage photographs from our insider on page 3!

!! A NOT VERY INVISIBLE STRING

Recipients, London's most captivating young couple was spotted wearing matching red-string bracelets, shifting to the 'private but not secret' path in their relationship. However, we always fetch you the ripest updates on their heart-stopping romance. More on page 4!

—

You were more than pleased by the sound of swishing newspaper and the snip of scissors. George had extracted another pretty picture of the recent news and hung it on the wall of achievements.

"Featured on a handful of headlines and it hasn't even been a year," Lockwood said, sounding very pleased with himself. He barely lifted a finger and Lockwood and Co. already had five additional clippings to their wall. "Gazette patrons are calling in to have us take care of visitors with all this media exposure." He set his hands on the stair newel and set his chin on them, looking up at you. It may have been a trick of a light but he was more radiant from where you were standing. "I have you to thank for that."

"You're the one helping me," you smiled. "I haven't heard a bad word about myself or my family. The peace is . . . unsettling. They really are bent on painting you as a saint, Anthony."

"Am I not?" he smiled.

You returned it, just as joyous. "That's the charisma I need for my birthday ball."

That made him straighten and grow brighter, if that were possible. "Birthday ball?"

You nodded, returning your eyes to Lockwood & Co.'s wall of accomplishments. "Lucy and George, too. It's a black tie event, and, yes, you may bring your rapiers."

He tilted his head, jarred. "What kind of people will be in attendance if we're allowed rapiers?"

"The most terrifying kind," you said with exaggerated dread, starting for the door. "Extended family I don't know well and journalists."

He sped ahead, clicking the door open for you. "Petrifying."

"Very," you chuckled. "Can I expect you to be there?"

He leaned toward you and you deluded yourself to believe he was doing so for his own benefit, but you knew damn well that there was a camera in the corner of your eye. Lockwood had caught sight of it before you, crowding you against the doorframe to paint the stomach-fluttering picture of a boy who simply couldn't resist being near his girl.

The idea was far more appealing than it was supposed to be.

His voice sounded saccharine up close. "What kind of flowers does your mother like?"

You titlted your head. "What for?"

"It's common courtesy to gift the in-laws. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared." He grinned at you, and you couldn't help but return it.

"She likes roses, and my dad is a fan of Ferrero Rochers."

"Noted," he chirped. He tugged a strand of your hair lightly before pulling away, taking his warmth with him.

You mustered a convincing enough smile. "Goodbye, Anthony."

"Goodbye, darling starlet."

He should have known you were going to do something. You grew up under the limelight, after all.

You've kissed many boys but he hoped you don't kiss them like you kissed him. Truthfully, it was only a kiss on the cheek, but he'd recall the feeling of your lips at the most untimely moments. He was ghost-touched because he couldn't shirk it.

—

You gave them a plot of the house. So, they did expect your house to be massive. What you did not tell them was the fact that your birthday ball was a masquerade ball. Lockwood was quite struck as he watched people file in with half their faces concealed under frivolously decorated masks. Lucy and George were just as confused.

"You're sure you didn't hear her say anything about this?" Lucy asked, hugging her arms as the evening chill began to creep in.

"Positively. Would I lie about something like this?" Lockwood replied, readjusting his grip on the generous bouquet of roses.

"Lie or not, we have to head in eventually. Unless your girl has a butler or handmaid who'd fetch us," George nipped. It was bad enough that Lockwood had forced him into a suit, but he had to stand in the freezing cold while passerbys walked right into the grandeur of your family's estate. The chandeliers casted gold silhouettes across the shadows. George bet it was warm in there. "Perhaps a visitor will come put us out of our misery."

"Keep your shirt on, George," Lockwood said firmly. "Perhaps having us enter without decoration was her intention."

"Who goes to a masquerade ball without a mask?" George scoffed.

"Lockwood & Co., apparently." Lucy rolled her eyes. She cast a nervous glance behind her but found lanterns had been lit. They smelt of lavender, reassuring her that despite your family's reputation, you weren't ignorant to the Problem. "Shall we head inside or face the treacherous cold?"

Lockwood, thoroughly done with their snideness, promptly decided on the former. He rolled his shoulders back and righted his posture before joining the line to the threshold.

"I see a buffet," Lucy said with new-found energy. Suddenly, the cold wasn't so unforgiving.

"Is that a chocolate fountain?" George inquired. Even if he did his best to keep his tone even, they caught the subtle intonation on the word 'chocolate'.

"Compose yourselves," Lockwood reminded primly. "we are representatives of the agency as well as guests, so, do try to mingle before losing yourselves in the smorgasbord."

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

Lockwood didn't know who said what, but he knew their answers were merely supplementary. They would bolt for the buffet as soon as the made it past the front door. At least their concerns about the lack of disguise were put to rest.

As they neared the doors, the warmth from the inside began to thaw away their frigidness. By the time they stepped into your abode, they were swallowed by the luxury. The word 'cold' didn't exist in a place as decadent as this.

The velvet curtains were pulled back fully, showcasing ceiling-length windows that glimmered with reflections of your guests, . A large chandelier illuminated the ballroom, washing everyone in supple, golden light. It brought out everyone's best features. Even the floor was polished so perfectly, it could have been a mirror.

If he didn't know better, Lockwood would have thought he walked right into a fairytale. He didn't realize Lucy and George had made their escape until he looked behind himself to find them gone.

He didn't have to idle by for very long. Like how sun rays pierce through storm clouds, you parted the crowd. You shone under the chandelier-light, a star put on earth, and you smiled so brightly he had to think you only smile like that for him. Lockwood lost his words, but his mouth was moving.

You were chuckling when you neared. Only when you dodged the roses and leaned on your toes to kiss his cheek did he realize that you didn't supply yourself with a mask either. His earlier guess had been right.

Whatever mirage he was in the middle of was cut through by two more figures coming into view; your parents, most likely. You resembled them a lot.

His joints went rigid but he was experienced enough to project an easygoing energy. All while he repressed bubbling exclamations.

He played on his best smile and reached for your father's outstretched hand. They met in the middle for a firm handshake.

"You must be the lad our little darling speaks so highly of," Mr. Darling chuckled. He had the kind of smile that put everyone in the room at ease. It reached his eyes. He must be the one you inherited your eye-smile from. A nail of guilt hit him right on the head because it was obvious that the man didn't know his daughter's romance was a fad. "Anthony, is it?"

"You're correct," Lockwood said amiably. His smile widened as he watched your mother's eyes gravitate to the bouquet of roses. "Anthony Lockwood, at your service, sir. And ma'am . . . These are for you." He offered the arrangement to your mother, who accepted them with the grace of a royal. You must have inherited that from her. He would have found it adoring if another strike of guilt didn't come down on him.

"How courteous," your mother said, hiding a smile behind her newly acquired bouquet. Her eyes moved to you and you shared a look Lockwood didn't quite understand. His stomach churned. Your mother then shot a peculiar look at him — like she could see right through him. It made his blood run cold.

Lockwood didn't have the option to ponder on it. Your father had seized Lockwood's attention with a firm pat on the shoulder. Lockwood had to tense his back to keep himself from toppling over.

As grayed as your father was, he had the kind of voice that commanded authority. "Don't be coy, boy. You can call us Ma and Pa. If our little starlet likes you enough to introduce you to us, you must be something special."

Lockwood glanced at you, momentarily paused by your smile. "She's the special one between us, sir—"

"Pa," your father corrected.

"Pa," Lockwood rectified smilingly. He wasn't sure what about it made him feel so melancholic and comforted at the same time. "I should be groveling at her feet. I'm very lucky to have caught her attention."

"I like the way you talk. It's no wonder she's so taken by you, Anthony."

Your father surprised Lockwood with a boisterous laugh. He was sure the room tremored for a moment. Lockwood was happy enough to laugh with him, the same time his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

The exchange was interrupted by your mother's squeal of delight. She had found the Ferrero Rochers laying in the bed of roses. She, with bright eyes, brandished them to her husband and Mr. Darling looked positively thrilled by the surprise.

"And thoughtful, too." Your father gave Lockwood the kind of nod you'd only get after you ask for their daughter's hand in marriage. "He's a keeper, little darling."

Lockwood's smile shook. Your mother looked at him strangely once more. He tried to regained himself.

Guilt.

Guilt.

GUILT.

It was drowning him, yet, he kept his cool. (At least, tried to.) You didn't seem to notice the change in his attitude.

You, with your rosy cheeks and resplendent smile, hooked your arm with Lockwood's and said, "I know, pa. That's the plan."

—

"That was not the plan," Lockwood respired, loosening his tie as soon as he stepped into open air. Even when he breathed in lavender, his lungs felt as if they were stuffed with cotton.

You had lead him to a balcony to give him a moment of reprieve only to be met with a glare. So much for being bad at acting, you were convinced his earlier niceties were real.

You regarded him with crossed arms, your cool façade practically a wall between you. "I invited, and you came. That's all that happened here."

"You made a spectacle of me," he rasped, his breath coming out as frost. "I would have been alright with that, but you brought your parents into this. They don't even know you're doing this, do they?"

The way he motioned between you as he said 'this' made you feel like someone's dirty secret. The way you faltered was laughable. Your heart clenched and your nails dug into your palms. You replied the only way you knew how: stronger.

"I don't see what the big issue is, Anthony," you scoffed. "I pay you, you do as I say. What if my parents don't know it's a ploy? The point is to set the stage for the press. I told you that."

"God," he laughed without feeling, raking a hand through his hair. He was heaving like he had just ran a marathon, face turning red. "You don't get it do you? We don't play with people. I don't want to play with people. And that's your family, starlet! Does it not bother you that you are lying to their faces?"

"No, it doesn't," you replied, stoically, standing your ground. "and neither should you. You know I'm doing this for them."

"Are you?" Where you stepped back, he stepped forward. He scoffed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's ironic that a whole ballroom of people hiding behind masks are more honest with themselves than you are to yourself."

"What are you implying?" Your words come out through gritted teeth.

He stood tall, more intimidating than you'd ever seen him. The gauntness in his eyes were more pronounced then. His stature made your composure slip. His words made your knees buckle. "You're an actress. You're a professional at what you do. Even in your own home, you have a façade. Maybe you are, in some twisted way, doing this for the sake of your family, but I can't see that anymore. You're stringing them along . . . As far as I can see, you're just as bad as the gazette makes you out to be. I don't even know if you've been lying to me for the sake of keeping your mask on."

You feel the full force of his words drop down on you. Taking a few steps isn't enough to quiet the rush of throughts crowding your mind. All you see is his despondent face and a hundred and one headlines flash before your eyes.

He takes your hand—making you wish the circumstances were different—before he dropped his red-string bracelet into your palm. It felt heavier than it was supposed to. You couldn't pry your eyes away.

When he turned and left, your thoughts turned into white noise. He had taken every joy with him, deserting you in the muted chatter of what was supposed to be a celebration.

—

!! TROUBLE IN PARADISE

Recipients, it is to our sorrow that the couple that took the country by storm, Darling and Lockwood, seems to have called it quits. Lockwood no longer flaunts the bracelet that had started a trend for couples on this side of the globe. It is unknown whether he had lost it during a skirmish or willingly stopped wearing his. With Darling's trail of broken hearts, it's safe to assume the worst. The Starlet seems to be continuing activities, as usual. The ice princess, unmoved by a romance put to the grave. On a lighter note, read more about Lockwood & Co.'s achievements on page 7.

—

The gazette went for the jugular with that one. For once, they wrote something that had some truth to it. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Even your newly developed habit of morning walking barely helped your heartbreak. You've never mourned for something that never was, but, damn, did it hurt. You knew you were in too deep when your feet carried you right to 35 Portland Row.

You stared at the agency plaque for an unnecessary amount of time before you folded yourself over and hugged your knees. At the time, George and Lucy would be out running errands before a case and Lockwood would be arranging their bags inside. Perhaps the security of knowing their schedule made you so confident to sit and wallow the death of what could have been.

Yet, you couldn't mourn that in peace. The silence was interrupted by a shutter. You lifted your head and spotted a paparazzo who didn't even try to hide his presence. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and already fading. He had a smile on but it set off alarms in your head. You didn't have to ask. You had a feeling. The gazette was all too good at dampening a sunny day.

You stood up quickly but found yourself backed against the wrought-iron gate.

"The Darling Starlet of London... Quite the title. Never thought I'd get to see you in person." His smile widened. You didn't budge. Even with your fiercest glare, he didn't get the message. He looked down at his camera before his smile fell. "Do you know how upset we were when you started going out with that... that pathetic excuse of a human—"

"He's an agent," you cut off. "and he's the reason degenerates like you get to walk the streets without being ghost-touched at every turn."

"Degenerates?" He laughed, covering his mouth. "Oh, Darling Starlet—" The name you found home in was chemical coming from him. "you should know that we made you. He's lucky the chief likes him enough. You'd be nothing without us."

"Without the gazette?" You scoffed, tempted to roll your eyes at the fool. "You do more harm than good."

"But we make or break a career." His hand came away from his mouth, revealing a smile made of pointed teeth. "and what would happen to your folks if your reputation makes a sharp decline, hm? Your father needing all that medicine, your mother taking care of him... What would happen if our little darling turned out to be a little bitch?"

Your anger was boiling over, but the fear of that possibility had crippled you. Words died in your throat. Your will fizzled to nothing. You felt blood drip into your palm, nails clenched into your flesh.

You were still trying to regain yourself when the cold of the gate was pardoned from your back. A familiar warmth replaced it, an arm coming around your middle and a voice that quelled all your fears sounded in your ears. A rapier crossed the distance, severing the neckstrap around the photographer and sending his camera into the pavement. It's lens shattered and the photographer let out a yell.

"If you ever talk to my girlfriend like that again, a broken camera will be the least of your problems."

"Anthony J. Lockwood," the paparazzo snorted. "Your agency hinges on the exposure you get from us. Don't play hero when you know you're defending a sham."

"I'm defending my girlfriend," Lockwood's grip tightened on your hip, and his rapier shined in the light. Your heart did immeasurable things in lieu of Lockwood's doing. "and if you ever threaten my family like this again, I will come after you. The gazette isn't the only publication in London, and I've built a rapport with enough people in the industry to secure my place. I'm not afraid of you."

"You—"

Lockwood turned you around, covering you from view and urging you toward the door. "Head inside, darling. I'll take care of this."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for resentment or even hate, but found none. His eyes were sunlight through bottles of whiskey. The smile had disarmed you, finally getting through to you.

You took a few hesitant steps before he nodded, assuring you that it was alright. He made sure you were safety inside before he returned his attention to the photographer.

"I do have morals. So, I'll be civil." Lockwood poised his blade. " That said, get off my street before I show you how proficient I am at my job."

—

Some part of you was desperately hoping that things would smooth themselves out after what had transpired. When he offered you his coat before telling you that he'd be walking you home, you knew you were in over your head.

That same night, you flipped the events over in your head. Clenching and unclenching your newly bandaged hand to remind yourself that it was real.

You didn't get much sleep with his voice echoing in your ears and his eyes burned into the back of your eyelids.

—

Your mother must have known something was wrong with you. You mistaked salt for sugar in your morning coffee, you walked into a wall on more than one occasion (a large vase had fallen victim to your daze), and you refused ice cream for the first time in your life.

In the middle of the day, Mama Darling decided that she'd seen enough. She set her knitting things down and urged you to put your book down. You obliged because you couldn't absorb the words anyway.

"My darling girl," your mother started. Her tone is so heartfelt, you felt yourself lax in your seat. A smile came to your face as she caressed your cheek, just as she'd always done. "You've always been such a kind child. So selfless . . . Your only flaw is that you need to know when to let go of your fear and let us handle ourselves, dearest."

You stared at her, lost. She simply smiled, taking your hands in hers. "I know your recent escapades with Anthony were a play, my dear girl." Your spine calcified, heat prickled your eyes. "I always knew. I'm honest when I say he's good for you. He brings out your ugly smile— Don't frown, I mean it in a romantic sense. I know the look of love when I see it, dearest. Don't sacrifice it for pride or fear, my girl. Go get him back."

"Ma," you shuttered, pausing to collect yourself. You were choking on yourself and that wasn't the worst of it. Your vision had blurred from your tears. "you and Pa need me to focus on my career. I have to—"

"No, you don't." She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and swiped her thumb across your cheek. "You'll always be a princess in the eyes of the public, dearest. Any person with two eyes and common sense will see that. You just have to break out of your shell, actually talk to the journalists. Just not the ones from the Daily Gazette—they are something else entirely."

"They are, aren't they?" You manage to laugh through your tears. Only your mother could make you feel these many things at once. She saw right through you. "Right now, Anthony doesn't even want to talk to me. I'm so scared that if I try, he'll tell me everything I don't want to hear. I'm scared he'll see all the nasty things the gazette talked about and hate me for them."

"Darling," your mother said sternly. "we just went over the fact that the gazette is complete and utter bullshit."

You can't help but snort. The rare curse from her had broken through to you. "Sorry, Ma."

"Don't be sorry, my dear girl, be brave." She flipped your hand over and drew lines across your palm. She did it three times before you realized what she was doing; she was drawing stars. "Some things are worth conquering fears for."

The Starcrest ferris wheel. Stolen smiles. Dreams of fireworks.

Your mother smiled at the renewed light in your eyes. She didn't question you as you bolted to the exit.

"Home before dinner! You may bring Anthony!" she called just before you smiled and closed the door behind you.

—

"Lucy?"

"No, this is George."

The world must hate you. You couldn't do much about that. You coiled the telephone wire around your finger as you took a deep breath. "This is... darling."

"I don't know anyone with a ridiculous name like that. Sorry."

You bit your cheek, inhaling the urge to sigh. "The prissy actress."

"Oh. You." He shuffled, crossing his arms. "Speak, before I hang up."

"I have a favor to ask of you," you winced, already expecting the worst.

"What's in it for me?"

You took a breath. "What do you want? Biscuits? An allowance? Access to the VIP collection in the library—"

"All of that, and you have yourself a deal."

"Done."

—

"George— You're usually against room invasion," Lockwood quipped, allowing himself to be dragged up the steps. "and Lucy wouldn't be happy about this."

"When I tell her what I bargained, she'll be fine with it."

"Bargained?"

"Not that important right now, Lockwood. Sit. And for all things grotesque, don't move."

George had pushed Lockwood into the mustard seat beside the attic window. The latter was ready to protest, confusion evident.

A resounding pop had interrupted him. The lights in the room shifted. The shadows stretched and receeded. It took a moment for Lockwood to realize that there were fireworks going off outside.

On the third floor, he had a bird's eye view of the shower of sparks in varying shades of blues, reds, and yellows. He was wondering where the firework show had come from, but his questions were put to rest with a singular look onto the street.

Other than the tins of fireworks, he saw you—looking much like a panicked frog while lighting the fireworks. You looked absolutely ridiculous. His perceptions of you had been thrown to the wind, and he couldn't help but smile.

The last firework burst into pink sparks, lighting up his eyes and your silhouette; embedding itself into his memories. When the air had cleared, he cracked the window open.

"What are you doing down there? Have you gone mad?"

You cupped your hands around your mouth, shouting an answer at him. "Lighting fireworks! You like dem?"

He shook his head, endeared. "How do you even know how to light them?"

"I don't! It was about time I learned!"

"You really are a lunatic..." he chuckled.

You cocked your head. "What did you say?"

"Come in!"

You showed him your thumbs, scuttling to the front door.

Lockwood had never raced down the stairs so quickly before. He apologized quickly to George, who he had almost bumped to ground floor, and Lucy, who had just gotten home with groceries. He raced for the door; hair a mess, breathing short, but smiling widely. He greeted you with the same smile he had on when you first met.

Cute as he was, you couldn't take it anymore. You reached up, fingers brushing his forehead and fixing the strands that had been bothering you for ages.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing you said. You were still heaving from outrunning fireworks but he wasn't in much better shape. "I was scared, and my first instinct was to act like I don't care, but I do. I care so much. About you."

"I got the message," he laughed, looking over your shoulder to the smoke remnants of the showcase.

"No, I'm not done." You took a breath, bracing yourself for it. "I want you to know about me, too. Pa has been sick for a long time. He worked through it so they could afford my commute to and from auditions. The money Ma made was used for medicine or keeping me in school. We struggled for a long time. Some days, I couldn't sleep because I felt so helpless. I wanted to give back to them with every fiber of my being. When I finally could, I never wanted to go back to having nothing. I was willing to do anything to stay where I was—"

"Darling, I get it—"

"—and I lost sight of who I was doing it for. I was so comfortable in allowing anything just to keep a pristine reputation—"

"Darling—"

"—and I hurt you. I never meant to, I'm so sorry. I realize now that I was wrong and I should have been more honest with you because I don't just want to be colleagues anymore—"

"Oh, shut up already."

He bunched your shirt in his fist, pulling you to him with the anticipation born from a thousand dreams. When his lips touched yours, it felt like all of this was worth the wait.

You were sweet and a little smokey, he could have laughed but settled with smiling into the kiss. You stole a breath from him when you nipped at his bottom lip. He could have spent the night like that but the resounding boom from outside made the two of you jump, breaking away from The Best Kiss Ever™ to see the last of the fireworks finish off the moment with golden sparks.

Lockwood couldn't stay upset. After a short laugh, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him right back to you—giving him another kiss to think about for the rest of his life.

—

!! THE COUPLE OF THE CENTRURY, BACK AGAIN !!

Recipients, after a short-lived break, the couple of the century are back—stronger than ever! Various photographs have been taken of them: Dancing in the foyer of the Darling estate, partaking in Mrs. Darling's notorious tea parties, and running away from premiers to steal time for themselves. To see more of them, see page 4!

That was possibly the last good article written about anyone coming from the gazette. Not long after that, they began to be brazen in their attempts to tarnish your reputations. They published photos of the two of you flipping off the photographer, spitting your tongues out at unwanted paparazzi, and spreading the most degrading rumors you had ever heard.

At the same time, the gazette had been losing viewership to London Squire, who was only gaining traction with every article written about the It Couple of Europe. Soon enough, the gazette had lost all credibility; reduced to a mere scandal sheet. It was a breath of fresh air.

The public was enamored by your honest nature and respected the fact that you'd prefer to keep your relationship private. Though, you would be the talk of the town once the Squire got a hold of an exclusive interview.

The topic? Vows, silver rings, and rapiers to cut wedding cake.

DARLING-LOCKWOOD

— It's now official. Our Darling Starlet is off the market after exchanging vows with Lockwood & Co.'s founder and president, Anthony Lockwood. The union took place this weekend in a private ceremony with close family. The couple reveals that the ceremony was grand but they would like nothing more than to keep it to themselves. We are honored that both Mr. & Mrs. Lockwood has given us the opportunity to publish a few pictures taken during their most special day. The writers here at London Squire send all our warmest regards to the newly weds.

The picture wasn't much; Just a scene recreated from the movie that earned you the title of 'Darling'. Even when you shared his name, he persisted in calling you his darling starlet. Though, he takes the utmost pride when he does call you his missus.

NOTE ➺ i don't know if i can get all my 1989 tv songfics done in time but i plan to get them all published before the end of 2023 !

i hope this finds you when you need it. as always, don't be afraid to leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs. i love to read feedback so don't hold back!!

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[chynandri]

Why Ibara and Hajime Were Destined to be Partners in a Variety Show

This post will be a bit different from my other ones as I think I've let this one sit for far too long and I just want to release it from the prison that is my drafts!!!! So there won't be a lot of citation, this will be more of a very long ramble/rant! I think I'm finally ready to (try to) articulate my thoughts on how Ibara and Hajime share many parallels, similarities, or just how they compare and contrast as characters!!

As you may know I am a big fan of Ibahaji as a relationship so - I can't guarantee an unbiased view on all this. I'd also say I'm more of an Ibara scholar than a Hajime scholar, but I have a PhD in neither.

I'm just very fascinated by the 'why' behind Bogie Time. I think Akira is talented in drawing connections between all 49 idols. And the way Ibara and Hajime become unlikely friends is a particularly strongly written connection to me.

Let's begin with: Hajime and Ibara's similarities as described in Bogie Time

To understand how profound their friendship is, we must look at their relationship development in Bogie Time.

At the start, Hajime and Ibara could not be more dissimilar.

Ibara is aloof but capable, older, and his usual disingenuous self. Hajime is younger and believes himself to be a bumbling little guy who's in the way. He immediately defers to Ibara on all matters but doesn't know what to make of him. Ibara is laughably confused by Hajime too, because he's literally too genuine of a person - a quality Ibara is not used to, sadly. However, as Ibara does something called 'relating to others' he realizes Hajime is not so far removed from his own world.

In a nice bonding moment halfway through the story that makes a point of sharing their similarities, Ibara and Hajime relate on looking up too much to others and feeling below them.

This is an incredibly important conversation as Ibara who usually doesn't open up about his feelings, does miraculously share why he's been so upset about the show to Hajime. Here marks a great turning point... Hajime can deeply relate to Ibara's aversion to humiliation, having experienced something so crushing as having no audience for Ra*bits debut. This was a formative moment for Hajime. I believe here Hajime sees himself in Ibara... and wants to help.

Another major point of similarity that the story pushes is that Hajime has a cunning side, one that is actually supported by how much Hajime pays attentions to people's feelings and personalities to a point where he can be too dependent on their approval - which is the opposite problem of Ibara, interestingly enough, who forgets to consider people as living sources of information rather than just data and tools.

This is the lesson Nagisa wanted him to learn from Bogie Time. Ibara hones Hajime's cunning so they can advance in the show, as his specialty lies in how to use things and people to their fullest. They're very complementary!

To summarize: the two main similarities Bogie Time wants you to focus on is that Ibara and Hajime both struggle with thinking themselves as lesser than others and that they are intelligent and cunning.

But what if there's other similarities to be found between them beyond Bogie Time?

Now I'll talk about: my interpretation of Ibara and Hajime's other similarities.

These are some scattered thoughts and things I noticed.

Ibara and Hajime's experiences with poverty While they do not discuss this as a similarity, Ibara and Hajime do both come from backgrounds of poverty or being impoverished.

Specifically, Ibara literally had nothing to his name during his childhood and was even more deprived comparably speaking. Ibara often describes himself as someone who crawled from the bottom of society. Hajime's family is poor, so Hajime often takes up part time jobs on campus and makes very simple meals. Or even eats just breadcrusts or grass. The one major point of difference is that Ibara inherited Godfather’s legacy - but despite that he still had to rebuild these assets from the ground up and fend for himself.

I think they could relate on the topic of survival. Even though Ibara's survival is sadly a more severe case, they both have the attitude of making do with what they have. Basically, they both did not have it easy.

As was revealed in Private Room, Ibara learned DIY when he was in the orphanage because he had no other form of entertainment. He's used to fixing and making his own things.

I recently read some old stories where Hajime makes up his own game of sliding on the wet floors of the school when it rains, because his family is too poor to afford many toys he's quite good at making up games to entertain his siblings.

Considering this I was like.... ohhhh... I've connected some dots. You could even say if anyone could understand Hajime's desire to have a partner who would have simple meals with him - it'd be Ibara who has a lot of opinions on eating sparingly. Although his is more motivated on survival and not allowing weak points in a moment of vulnerability, which then morphed into efficiency.

This follows into... Ibara and Hajime's social status

They both suffered from bullying and discrimination toward them at a young age.

Hajime was bullied and excluded by his classmates for being too slow and useless to them. Hajime would struggle for a long time with the inferiority complex this experience gave him, which was only expounded by the failure of Ra*bits debut.

Ibara is an orphan who was implied to be considered equivalent to garbage by society. He is especially motivated by dominating people who used to laugh at him and thus is so afraid of being the target of mockery in Bogie Time.

I think Ibara is a special case where he weaponizes the way society has told him ‘he’s nothing’ over and over again by purposefully poking others and making them uncomfortable by his self-deprecating statements. While I recognize he’s not totally self loathing I feel like there’s a grain of truth to his self deprecation, and is almost challenging people like Anzu to affirm what he has always known anyway so he can continue to justify his cynical worldview that keeps him safe - but it’s definitely an obstacle to having a more growth oriented mindset.

Meanwhile Hajime does all he can to be likeable and gain approval as a good child, and is extremely apologetic for his shortcomings in early stories. Interestingly, Ibara also has this behaviour but on a surface level as he only does it to manipulate people to being useful for him. Although Hajime does have influence because of all the genuine good favour he’s gained from acting this way. In recent stories however, he’s grown more assertive…

Such as this exchange Hajime and Ibara have during a Dream Live because Hajime scolds him for being openly self deprecating to the audience. Again I think this is another moment where Hajime sees himself in Ibara, especially by how he tells him he’s his fan too. Hajime’s self esteem has gotten better because he’s motivated by his friends and fans too, so it just seems to echo that.

Ibara and Hajime's roles in their units

(Using this cg as this section's image because in Happy Spring Hajime is so excited about visiting a nearby town for the first time for a job, he makes a notebook full of research about that town... which they're only visiting for a day or so. It really represents Hajime's fastidious nature and love of information.)

Personally I think Ibara and Hajime are quite similar in being the sensible and practical members of their units, especially when it comes to finances and their meticulous nature in preparing things. They also tend to lose sight of what’s in front of them when they’re too in their own heads. One of Ibara’s biggest pitfalls is getting hasty when he thinks everything is going according to his schemes and victory is within reach. While Hajime can take his daydreams and ideals too seriously, for example getting upset at Mitsuru for not bringing flowers to Madara’s sister as he got too obsessed with his own idea of them being in love in Ra*bits climax.

I also believe they both possess a role of drawing people into their respective units - where Ibara utilizes fanservice in a more mature way, Hajime’s charisma is through his expertise in being cute. Both of these are to an extent personas they use on stage to attract attention.

Ibara and Hajime's gender presentation

This point is directly addressed in Bogie Time. I find it interesting that Ibara’s own feminine features were emphasized - it subverts expectations a bit as Hajime is usually put into the ‘girl’ role. But at the end, it’s Ibara who’s essentially experiencing what Hajime experiences all the time… being perceived as a girl.

Previously, Ibara portrayed the Red Queen in Wonder Game - a female character and the outfit itself has what I arguably consider feminine elements such as the silhouette and high heels. And last year, Ibara was in the bride-inspired White Swan outfit - and in a pose that I personally think can be read as typically feminine (a pose you’d see a female gacha character have perhaps.) So Ibara is no stranger to feminine roles.

I didn’t expect Akira to make this a point of similarity between them, but it’s interesting that he played with this concept and made Ibara cross dressing a focal point of the story and artwork.

I believe that Ibara and Hajime both embrace it, along with Ibara learning from Hajime to not be embarrassed in general and that feminine Ibara cards exist in the first place - and Hajime’s own personal journey as he goes from disliking being seen as a girl, to being ok with it and finding ways to use it as an idol.

Other personality traits

I believe Ibara and Hajime were similarly both troublemakers when they were very young. They also both grew out of this behaviour in response to their environment.

Ibara had a wish to make his life have been worth something and needed to pull himself together for his newfound inheritance. The strict and unforgiving military lifestyle he once hated and criticized became very useful in his role as a producer and businessman.

While Hajime became more well behaved for the sake of being a good older brother and not causing more trouble for his parents. However this may be one of the reasons he has a bit of a complex over people perceiving him as too perfect - which he mentions to Ibara in Bogie Time, and seems to want to indulge in being a 'bad kid' sometimes (thinking of his halloween voice line).

From all this I'd like to conclude that the great amount of connections one can make between Ibara and Hajime is why Akira and his team of writers probably conceived of Bogie Time which is about their relationship at its core. There's a lot to work with, and because I consider this story as a major turning point in Ibara's character arc - this is probably one of the big reasons why they chose Hajime to be the character to spur the needed profound change in Ibara. … besides that Hajime and Ibara were both moderately popular at the time and cute I guess! If you made it all the way here - wow, congrats and thank you for reading!

[josefavomjaaga]

Andoche Junot to Laure Junot, 13 October 1812 (II)

Sorry for taking so long with the next translation. This is the second (and last, I think) letter from Junot to Laure, intercepted by the Russians, his reply to her letter that I translated here. But just so it’s mentioned, before this one, the volume also cites a letter from Junot to his secretary Cissout, lecturing the poor guy on having sent him the wrong silk stockings and having bought eau de Cologne from the wrong manufacturer. Before giving him instructions on how to distribute the letters to the ladies, that is. This second letter was to be given to Laure only some time after the first.

Junot, Duke of Abrantès, to Duchess Laure d’Abrantès, rue des Champs-Elysées, Paris Mojaisk, 13 October 1812, 6 P.M. I had written to you this morning, my dear Laure, in order to complain about you not writing to me, and I told you that I was eagerly awaiting the letters that would scold me. I've just been given this one, which I'll send back to you after I've taken a copy, because it's quite curious. The first page pleased me (to the word: pity, which is not noble), but when I saw that I was a fool, all the more guilty because I was the master of recovering my reason, and that I was a sick man who did not want to take medicine, I said to myself: "My Laure still has her head full of recipes from Aix and is a little out of sorts to tell me that it was not to me that she promised her esteem with all her friendship as the price of the noble efforts I would make to deserve the name of man, by stifling an unhappy feeling. This poor Laure adds that she has been saying this to me for many months. To this I exclaimed: "But it was eight months ago the day before yesterday that I last heard you speak!" Perhaps it's in her letters that she wants to tell me, I reread thirty-nine of them straight away, which are still there in front of me, and I didn't see any of that. As I don't have the drafts of my letters, I couldn't remember if I had asked you for medicine for my wound, and really if you sent me some balm, I wouldn't know where to put it. I do have a few scars, and I'd be very happy if you could erase them if, by making me more beautiful, it would add more charm to our friendship. Until then, the only thing that had gone wrong with the rather disjointed letter was the misquotes. But the general confession brought me back and I saw clearly that a woman who so openly accuses herself to her husband has made up her mind and from now on will have nothing to reproach herself for. Go on, my Laure, don't give rise to feelings that you can't share, and even less to those that you feel ready to share; the others are all right, but those void, I don't want. How much I would have shared your happiness, if your letter had actually found me between my mother and my son. Alas, this first happiness has long since been taken from me, and when will the other come? Will it be without bitterness? I thank you for not having made the trip to Geneva that I would have disapproved of; you didn't tell me about it, but that's all right. No doubt the happiness and glory of your life now lie in your children, and by allowing me to keep my unhappy feelings for you, by sharing them a little and giving me your esteem and all your friendship, you would not be deprived of any happy future, but we should only say these things to each other.

I think, my good friend, that this letter you expected from me is good and reasonable, but I beg you not to press me to change my feelings.I assure you that you would lose out, and allow me to use the word constancy to express the sweetness of this feeling. It is always better to fear a little than to give oneself without reserve to such a sincere friendship, which always ends up not being all that severe. As far as I am concerned, I guarantee you that no matter what you do, you will never take away from me the hope that one day my friendship will be stronger than yours and that I will be able to drag it along in spite of it; so, if you want to believe me, keep your fears, they are necessary. The report on your health is what I disliked most about your letter, because it tells me that you are still suffering. Farewell, my Laure, write to me often, but more directly than that. P.S. - Send me my last letter, which made you feel such pity, I'll burn it.

As to the »Write more directly!« - I share the feeling, your Excellency 😁. And it applies to you, too.

But mostly I’m struck by Laure Junot apparently really writing about her husband being close to his long-dead mother.

I’ve tried to look into the personal situation of Laure and her Andoche a bit but I feel I would need to read all the 14+ volumes in order to understand. So I’ll just leave it to @snowv88 or other people in the know to hopefully shed some light on it all. Is Junot deliberately misunderstanding some of what Laure had written?

If it is of interest, I can also translate the letter to Laure’s friend Madame Caroline "Calo" Lallemand, who was instructed to write to Junot about how Laure reacted to this letter.

[meditating-dog-lover]

Skin update

I woke up with some dry skin this morning and I could not close my fist all the way. So I applied some Vaseline to my hands and face, and my hands feel better.

I've been eating well and drinking aloe juice in the mornings. Aloe is great for general gut health - it reduces inflammation, it's anti-bacterial, soothes the intestinal lining, has enzymes which helps with digestion, and increases nutrient absorption. And I don't mind the taste. It's a great addition for gut healing, but it doesn't replace an anti-inflammatory diet and stress management.

I had some coffee and chocolate on Thursday after my therapy session. I was invited to my friend's house yesterday (I have not seen my group of friends since 2021 so I was so happy to see them as I felt so lonely for a long time). Obviously I didn't eat the healthiest, but that's fine because I was at a party. I also had mozzarella sticks at work too (I can never say no to those).

I know I want to focus on an anti-inflammatory diet. Though I don't notice my skin becoming sensitive and flaring up after eating something "unhealthy". But it's worth it to eat better so I don't experience any buildup of inflammation. It might cause some inflammation without it being an immediate effect (like an allergic reaction).

I stayed pretty late (until 11) at my friend's party. I was exhausted and it took me an hour to drive back home. Then I come home and had to do some cleaning. The combination of being awake, having to drive for an hour and having to clean did make me feel alert and energized, which did cause my skin to itch and feel inflamed.

I know stress causes me skin to feel worse. But sleep deprivation does too. And generally feeling excited, which is not a bad emotion at all, but it does give me a sense of high energy and alertness. I got excited at work yesterday because I was going to see my friend after leaving for the day. So the entire day, my hands did feel inflamed.

I do want to find ways to relax and calm down and soothe myself to avoid these high energy feelings, both the good and bad. Of course I want to be happy and excited though. I'll find ways to minimize my stress and to definitely get enough sleep! Again I'm not a night owl, but it's been forever since I last saw my friends and staying with them until late at night was so worth it to me. Even though I was exhausted and had to drive for an hour and felt some skin inflammation. And even if I didn't eat super healthy. These are valid exceptions because I loved going out and socializing was another goal of mine.

My doctor recommended some ashwagandha and l-theanine supplements which can help with anxiety/cortisol. I'll see if I want to try that out. I did purchase a singing bowl and can't wait to try that out.

So overall I think the combination of a poor diet and stress causes my flareups. Even if it's just one junk food day, it can add up. Stress is a huge contributor. Again I love my anti-inflammatory diet and aloe juice. Now it's time to minimize my stress and maybe consider the supplement my doctor recommended.

Other things to consider in the future is liver health and toxin/heavy metal exposure. I know spirulina helps with that, but to be honest I don't like the taste. It's not as bad as wheatgrass, but it's still bad in my opinion lol.

[takoush]

I should be sleeping, but instead I'm thinking too much...

I don't even know if anyone will even see this since its been so long since I've posted on tumblr, but if you do, I hope it does not perturb or scare you. I guess this is sort of just me journaling some personal shit I've been grappling with. I've been feeling hyper isolated, and still quite raw from a particularly scary mental spiral, but in my more stable moments, I've tried to plant footholds in my brain for future improvement... But even those moments pass, and sometimes the sadness wells up again. The hollow ache that bleeds in my chest, the silence that is deafening to a mind stuck ruminating.

So I try to redirect, as many times as it will take. I want to feel safe, I want to feel better. So I set up reminders to light my way again when I feel like darkness is closing in all around me.

But yeah, journaling...

......I often feel like don't have much to offer when it comes to friendship.

I'm not all that bright, relatively poor at what talents I do still have. I haven't drawn in months, and not in years have I made art of the caliber I used to. I'm not particularly skilled at cooking or videogames or any other hobby really. I'm really dense sometimes and kind of a simpleton, and I grapple with a slew of mental issues that really nobody deserves to endure hearing about. I'm so dense that I can't pick up on obvious shit, but evidently I am not dense enough to NOT second-guess every single thing I say or do. And uh... I don't even have anything really going for me physically to make up for these internal deficits, either.

I guess... what I can offer is... loyalty. If I love you, I'm your staunch ally and friend forever. No matter how much time may pass in correspondence, I will still hold feelings of fondness for you if we are friends.

I like to think I'm a safe place to if you need someone to talk to. If you need to vent and need someone to listen, I won't ever judge, I know the value of getting that shit out and just having someone to listen, to tell you its gonna be okay if you need to hear it. If people have a bad time or make mistakes, I can handle hurt and can forgive if they genuinely want to change... in fact I'm probably way more forgiving than I ever really should be. But even if my trust has been hurt in the past, who am I to deprive others of patience and forgiveness if they truly work for it, right? Humans are messy to begin with, we don't need to make things even harder for ourselves...

I'll be your biggest cheerleader without even thinking about it-- it sounds cheesy but if you're my friend, I just want to support you from the bottom of my heart. Your hopes and dreams, your creations and enjoyments... I just love to see the people I adore happy. Call me a people pleaser if you wish, but nothing I do has anything other than an earnest motive. I offer to help without thinking, the words of appreciation and admiration fly out of my mouth before the thoughts fully form. Its just... instinct. If i can make someone's load lighter even just a bit, light up their day in even some small way... it feels worth it.

I don't want to toot my own horn... but I can at least love myself for having nothing but earnest intentions regarding those I love and care for. I may be profoundly broken and flawed, and I may mess up a lot, or talk too much, or cling too tightly... but at least my feelings of friendship are genuine and profound.

I know its not much... but its honest.

And maybe my heart just tells me that if I can't have that sort of thing in my life, then I will become that sort of thing, or at least try to... so maybe others will never feel crushingly alone, or bereft of deep and abiding patience and love and care, like I have felt sometimes.

I want to recognize and work on my faults, but maybe sometimes I need to remind myself of the little good things I have inside me, too.

So while I have a stable moment, and firmer grasp of my anxiety-ridden noggin jello, I want to tell myself that come what may, I want to keep love in my heart and try to hang on to hope, even if more hurt may come from it, even if I shrink down and diminish myself for a time for the sake of my own stability. I want to foster the faith and trust I placed in those I love, and who in turn placed such in me, and I want to live up to the privilege of carrying that faith.

I want to be better. For all of you, and for myself. So that faith will never feel misplaced.

Thank you for loving me, as messy and burdensome as my mental baggage can get. For having patience with me and my mistakes, for treating me kindly when I forget what it is to be kind to myself, for letting a little piece of me into your heart, and for giving me little pieces of you to hold and cherish in my own.

I love you, my friends. Deeply, earnestly, and more than I can possibly articulate.

I apologize again if you read this and felt irked or anything. I feel terrible for even indulging in writing all this... but I'll be the first to admit, I'm far too weak to keep my feelings bottled up forever. But I don't want my spiraling to make me do something I'll regret, so these words and thoughts that run in circles and strings need to come out somewhere I suppose. At least here, one can choose to read it, rather than be forced to witness a nervous breakdown. So I can read it too, and remind myself in a weak moment that maybe I do have some goodness there inside me that's worth remembering.

tbh, its fucking 3 am, my head is pounding, my eyes are swollen from days of on and off nervous crying, and I can hardly think anymore having gotten this thought spaghetti out.

I just need to keep telling myself that all things shall pass, as cliche as that sounds. My anxiety spikes will fade, and I will feel stable again. I will.

[moefling]

And finally Any Way The Wind Blows reread...

I really dislike Matali. Like of the the Adults who should have seen The Mages abuse, she is on the top and she is throwing it back in Penny's face!?? (f*ck Matali Bunce)

*sobbing* but also I love angst so also 😈

Dev is a Pitch?!? Idk why but I thought he was a Grimm (tho I did read the fanfic rebel rebel just b4 starting my reread so maybe that's my confusion)

How long is Simon's tail? I'm pretty sure that based on how it's described to twist around things it's gotta be like the same length Simon is tall (5 foot whatever)...

"He already gave me a sword, but I'm not magickal enough to call it." (page 6) this is so sad, I remember seeing a tweet from Rainbow saying the Sword of Mages was still in him he just couldn't call it and just that makes me want to cry for Simon

i love that Fiona continues to use the numpty joke with Baz because that is such a real family thing to do (page 14)

Premal and Simon should have a talk... they both have very complicated feelings about the Mage (i mean Simon wins but)

Poor Penny. she used to solve all of Simons problems and now she can't so she feels useless

"I'm ready to let go - to be me again. The me I thought I was before the Mage ever showed up." (page 37)

"I hate the sight of him. All I see is what I've lost- who I was. His match." (page 62) this f*cked me up because its a call back to CO when Baz says he loves that Simon is screwed up because "they match" and that quotes is VERY popular...

"I know I'll never love anyone like I love Baz. I know he's the love of my life. Of all my lives" "This was my life to find love. The truest love. The biggest. Buti it isn't my life to have it." "I'm too... broken. I don't know how to be close to people." (page 65)

we need for Fiona moments. the fact that she is marrying a vampire but can't ask Baz if he needs to feed? (page 82)

lol Simon showing up unannounced again and commenting on Baz's clothes (page 87)

Simon cuts so deep but i love it because it's real and he is telling everything so Baz knows

"I didn't get to keep anything... What did I get to keep, Baz?" (page 91) i think this hurts even more because he still thinks he's removing his wings and tail. to literally at this moment he doesn't think he got to keep anything: his magic, his mentor, his friends, his purpose in life, the safety that came with knowing what comes next

when Simon tells Baz he loves him to me the tone from Baz questioning it was even sadder because he wasn't just questioning Simon saying it but (to me) it seemed like a question that anyone would tell Baz that

headcanon that not only was Simon deprived of a magical childhood he also didn't have a normal one so he doesn't know things like Disney movies (or really used a cell phone)

i love that Baz switches between Simon and Snow regularly even in his own thoughts

gosh this book has the snowbaz bants that i've been looking for. referencing when they were enemies but now in a funny/ cute way

"'Christ, Baz, I never thought I was straight. I never thought about it at all.'" (page 127)

""I met him the usual way.' 'You chased him off the road?'" (page 167)

i love that there isn't really any comparisons between the Salisbury's and Simon until the end. it's not shoving it in your face if you can't remember the first book (no bronze hair like Simon or Ruth eats like Simon - there is a moment where it is mentioned that Jamie sucked at reading and talking and Simon thinks same but it is Simon thinking it not a comparison someone else is thinking)

is the light touch over simulation or has Simon just never been touched gently before so he doesn't understand it...

""I can touch you less gently, but I won't love you less kindly.'" (page 222)

when Ruth gives the glasses to Simon i remember on my first read i though that was how Simon was going to get his magic back...

i'm 80% sure Lady Ruth was ready to adopt Simon before she know he was Lucy's son and i'm 85% sure she would be very fine with them using the glasses for.... other purposes

the Demon turning to Penny after and basically winking as saying call me...

"'..it was children who brought down the Mage!'" (page 399) i think we need to talk about this more. the fact that Fiona is ok with it but all the Kids have BIG trauma about it all (and f*ck Matali again for victims blaming the Kids)

Simon using a pet name for Baz 😍😍

"'And you don't have to wear a jacket in the middle of June. Do you know how jealous I am?'" (page 407)

(something half baked about chosen ones being warm to the touch)

Baz wearing this boyfriends ex girlfriends sweatshirt

a note that Simon couldn't feel magic at all after Smith zapped him

so Smith's spell.... does it imply that you can waste magic? if you only have so much? or...

so what is Simon.... is he sorta a dragon?

Notes for Snow for Christmas

i love that this exists so we can see happy snowbaz without them doing chosen one shit

i love and hate that Baz tells Simon he is coming back after a fight (page 222)

i've decided that they should tell Lady Ruth about Baz's vamp thing because she would probably blink and then offer to keep blood in the fridge for when he visits. and she wouldn't tiptoe around it either

i like that Simon takes some responsibility to not drink because he kinda has a problem with it

Question... did Baz know he was a vampire before his teeth came in..? cuz knowing his family idk if they would have told him...

do Baz's siblings know he is a vampire? Simon asks but it isn't really answered...

[ashiiplier]

im sitting here, sleep deprived and wearing my markiplier hoodie that never left my body during my darkest days. last night, i'd stayed up the whole night reading fanfics for the first time in a long, long time, and despite running on 1 hour of sleep, i haven't felt this alive since 2017. which is kinda ironic since i hadn't felt alive at all then.

markiplier and jacksepticeye egos were a huge part of my childhood/teen years. i found some amazing friends through them, which i have unfortunately lost since then. but still.

life changed drastically for 13 year old me, and i didn't think i'd survive to make it out of that group home. every day, i'd sit with pencil and paper and write fanfics of my own. call me cringe for writing ego fanfics, but at my lowest point, it was all that terrified 13 year old had to hold on to.

i did make it home from the group home, but i've never truly been okay since then. i never adjusted nor have i been able to come to terms with the year of my life they stole from me. i came home and lost all the friends i had made with no explanation as to why, but i guess i understand it now. (elora, panda, alex – thank you for an amazing 2 years.)

i find myself often forgetting im seventeen, that eighteen is only two months away. sometimes i still feel like that angsty 13 year old, or that little 9 year old with her head in the clouds. sometimes i don't even know what age i feel like.

but today? today i was that 13 year old again, who'd spent the whole night reading fanfics til her eyes were hurting and dry from forgetting to blink. i was that zombie walking the world with bags under my eyes, eyelids like bricks managing to ward off gravity. but something was different. i also felt happy. i felt alive. i felt like that poor kid should've.

i don't really know where im going with this. i guess what im trying to say is:

read the fanfics, draw the fanart, dance to the music, wear the merch, plan those tattoos you'll grow to regret. you may be older now, but that angsty teen still lives in you, as well as the naive child. do the things they always wanted to do. they'll thank you for it.

[luimagines]

*walks in tiredly, offers you a mug of tea, downs my own like a shot, makes it like the Wild 100 years ago* Hey there, hope you're doing well today ^^

Probably long ask so uh, warning and apologies in advance. I'm glad the Lustrous ask was seemingly well received? XD It's just a snippet of a bigger thing, I'm writing a full thing for them when I have the time (along with a series for the Fairy Tale prompts, which I also have snippets of if anyone's interested?) which I'll post later and tag you if you're interested, plus you listened to me basically just come into your little corner of the internet and ramble about a crossover of a series you're not familiar with and LU, so it's only fair since it basically inspired me to keep going, so thank you ^^. Although, uh, Citrine/Little Link won't have a good time, apologies in advance, I blame the evil moon people. Yeah sorry he's probably going to pull a Time or Sky in the bad sense. That was an exchange from a draft of chapter 4 and English is not my first language even though I've been using it more for years, so that's likely why it's off, I apologize for that. Also I promised I'd come here and scream about how much I adore your writing of the boys (and once again, thank you for posting, great pick me up after a rough week that really does make me want to walk right into a Guardian beam, so here we go while I can even if I may need to split this in two if I hit the word limit.

Also the small family with Warriors and Wind is so wholesome, I think I went under from cavities alone (or maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, eh), please let the Link’s have parents and parental figures who stick around and don’t contribute to their trauma universe and Wind and Aryll are definitely up there in both deserving and needing it a lot, had to say I laughed at Warriors not being as thrilled by the crab as someone who makes friends with them and seagulls every time I’m near the ocean, they’re neat little fellas ^^, Poor Legend probably ain’t gonna be thrilled to find one on his clothes though, I know I wasn’t before figuring out how to keep them out, also, Reader comforting Aryll- just yes, also Wind’s grandma is the best I don’t make the rules. Sick Reader is such a mood, the boy's reactions hurt to read though it's really heartwarming how much they care, perfectly in character, 10/10, would definitly die over it again. Reader being good with a bow made me chuckle and smile because the irony of being familiar with a bow and seeing Reader and Wild excited of it reminds me of when I first picked it up, sweet and humorous and I adore it. Four getting a taste of his own medicine- *cackles hard in current Minish Cap player and Manga reader of it and Four Swords* That's what you get for your canonical flirting boy! He was as bad as Warriors and look where it got him XD Also he's so gone for Reader's Colors and Reader in general, it's sweet and just really good, I love it so much, plus the Reader’s colors have so much personality and it’s great. The Fear Room, goodness THE FEAR ROOM. I'm going to need to save it in for another ask because there are so many little details that I adore and I am a sucker for horror and it's too good- 20/10, would scare my poor dog again over my pain and elation.

Reader accidentally spilling who’s their favorite (and suffering as a result) also makes me cackle and smile a lot, it’s soft and sweet and each Link being so elated by it is literally so sweet (though Time, Wild, and Twilight literally murdered me during that segment, not a bad cause of death all things considered, but how dare all Link’s be so sweet? Like I’m already dead here, shoveled dirt into my box and everything, no need to try finishing me off), na interesting detail is how Hyrule and Legend both have the almost immediate reaction of asking why, dunno if it’s intentional or not but it’s a very neat touch, like you don’t have to elaborate but either way they’d happy if you did decide to which reflects really well with their characters. Four overreacting the second Reader takes it back (be smothe, smithy boy, specially so you don’t plot), Sky being sweet but oh so oblivious and basically killing Reader and Warriors being flattered, Wind just being triumphant in general and wanting to make Reader smile, Wild basically getting a critical hit in, Twilight and Time existing, it’s just so nice and I am soft. Plus the consistent and cackle worthy betting always makes me wheeze.

Speaking of betting, the Link’s being so gone for a tall S/O is both hilarious, consistency I greatly appreciate and a mood, plus the lines where definitely on point for sudden hilarity (“They got family?” “They took all your height” “And ours too-“ “Twilight wondering why he got none of that” absolutely sent me, great pick me up after a generally bad time existing), and all of them being soft and just so happy their S/O is in their lives and how they can show them off when meeting in each Hyrule is really wholesome, plus the consistent betting and friendly teasing which really sells how they are as close as brothers is really nice to see.

Soft Fierce Deity, honestly the main thing I can say coherently is that if the favorite scenario, and then the meeting scenarios slayed me, then this man came into my house and stole all my bones before killing me again in a good way because I am too soft, I have a really soft spot for the Fierce Deity, and the way you write for him is great and we usually don’t see much for him in any corner of the Zelda (or adjacent) Fandoms, it’s in character sure because Nintendo has a tendency of mentioning deities in Zelda or Link variants and then just refusing to elaborate, but it always makes me happy to see people write stuff for him among other things, 50/10.

How to Be a Heartbreaker delights me, always nice to see Warriors being the flustered one instead and his and Reader’s banter (and Twilight cameo) gives me life, I could probably write a small essay on why it delights me so much, but again word limit so let’s move on, maybe during another ask or something.

... Actually maybe I should save the oneshots for another individual ask, more organized that way.

Anyway, onto there’s only one bed! Also know as, Wild killing me with cackling that had my dog nuzzling me with concern and being my spirit animal all in one go, never change Wild Child, knew there was a reason you managed to bring me back to the Zelda fandom, me trying and failing not to be soft for Warriors, soldier boy deserves good things and it’s really sweet how much he cherishes reader, and me and Legend having the same trauma (aka KOHOLINT, if I could I’d fistfight the Windfish, I can’t go to the beach without a seagull being nearby and remembering Marin, specially with the friendly ones who actually come by just to stare and chirp for a while and it hurts), the fact he doesn’t want Reader to look down on him, because he doesn’t want them to leave him like how he basically lost or was left by most people in his life, the correlation with when he was stranded at sea, Reader comforting him- Just yes, bless the veteran. Flustered Reader is also my spirit animal, and cat Reader delights me to no end,  thank you once more for the wonderful contente and all your work in the fandom!

Also, while the urge to nap has not yet claimed me yet (and with hopefully the Tumblr wordcount not vibe checking me), I saw an ask about Time/Mask/Sprite with a resistance leader s/o? May I raise an idea/au of this au that’s been haunting me every second when I’m not doing anything much? Resistant Leader in the pre-timeskip timeline (aka The Child Timeline) started out as a Terminan Thief, that’s why Mask didn’t run into them when first going to get the Master Sword, they haven’t left Termina yet. The first contact Mask had with them after the timeskip was when they stole his wallet as a Deku Scrub, ran from him on the second day and then vanished on the third day. After the loop starts Thief/would be Resistant Leader Reader is somehow always just there, stealing random stuff from him and generally making his life harder (he would like to know how they snatched the Bunny Hood from his head and the Gilded Sword without him noticing, please? But Thief Reader definitely ain’t going to start divulging tricks of the trade) but always vanish on the third day before he can really stop them to talk, so honestly done and just really wanting to know why someone he remembers as this really amazing, confidente and badass leader would be acting like this (because it honestly doesn’t seem in character, given they were fighting Ganon for so long and stalled him several times on his search for Link) and just really missing a friend and being tired of these loops, he manages to follow them, maybe Reader was in a spot of trouble with other thieves and couldn’t get out of it unless they stole a certain quantity of rupees or rare items, and by the final day they snap and that’s why Link doesn’t see them (maybe the Gorman Brothers? If Reader spoke out and maybe tried using one of his stolen weapons to have a go at them for attacking Cremia and Romani if they’re close, although it’s generally ambigous, maybe it could be someone from Ganon’s former band of thieves who ran to Termina, and that’s why they became a Rebellion Leader in the timeskip? They couldn’t leave, saw what Ganon was going to do to Hyurle went, “Hm. Don’t really like that!” and probably fought their way out, maybe getting other thieves to speak up and rally together as well and it just escalated?) Either way, Mask sees what’s happening and that they probably can’t get out of it alone like usual and helps them because that’s HIS friend lord darn it he hasn’t seem them in forever and thought he wouldn’t ever see them again, the first familiar face since maybe Lullaby and Malon he’s seen in a while, he isn’t leaving them behind (casually raising my headcanon of Fae possesiviness being Time’s fault in the bloodline if we want to figure out where Hyrule’s came from, because the Kokiri are basically another branch of Fae and have fairies near them), and as thanks they not only give him his items of whichever loop his in back but maybe something of their own as well to remember, and help him out with the rest of the tasks or a temple (probably by somehow getting him the dungeon item, or a few dubiously acquired potions ahead of time), but if he had to reset they get caught up in it and actually remember the previous loop, given the way they just SPRINTED through Clock Town on the first day and instead of being subtle like always to steal something, they just bowl him over in a glomp and start checking him over, breaking the pattern.

Cue a bit of panic, several explanations and either an ear pull, cursing or stealing of rupees and holding masks hostage as revenge (and the threat of leaving him with nothing but the clothes on his back if he tries stopping them from helping, oh you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve done this now? And don’t want me to get hurt? Well too bad I am not letting you do this alone, News flash, technically I’ve already been hurt I’m not losing the one person who bothered to help me), and now he has an impromptu loop buddy to help him out even if it’s through questionable means after they usually deal with whichever other thief is around first. Maybe if after he defeats Majora and goes to leave he doesn’t tell Thief Reader, assuming they don’t want to come with since he’s caused them a lot of trouble and they’re technically free to do as they please now, only he can’t, because Thief Reader absconded with two more things of him: One of his earring’s, and the Fierce Deity Mask, which they are cheekily  waving to show off to him atop Clocktower, the earring on their own ears. (And seriously? HOW?!) Shenanigans ensue, maybe a chase or two, and Mask acquires himself a travel companion on top of Epona, Tatl and Tael on his search for Navi.

And honestly? Chaotic and bullheaded as they are and probably something of a magpie to boot, he wouldn’t have picked anyone else. You can hold your own and you’ve been ride or die with him twice over now, if that isn’t a sign you’re sticking around he doesn’t know what is.

Or something, idk, I’m running on three hours of sleep, maybe someone with more energy can expand on this into the War of Ages later or I’ll do it myself (Wind would have the best/worse role model ever, given ya know, Pirate and really light footed, feather touched and chaotic thief, Warriors is having heart attacks every five seconds even if he has to admit that when Thief Reader is going for soldier’s who talked badly about him, Mask, Wind, Ravio or Zelda is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen and that one time they stole Cia's staff and were going to bash her over the head, Ravio is probably side eying them the whole time or seeing a business opportunity, Artemis and them trade tips due to her Sheik alter ego and both Mask and Warriors have to drag them away from one another, the possibilities are endless). I just find the idea of the Link’s with any morally dubious, but clearly cares a lot and wouldn’t hesitate to cut or bite someone for them amusing. Gives way for some interesting dynamics, like say Twilight and cattle raider reader (aka the cowboy/wild west themed rivalry au that I will not elaborate on), or Warriors with an Assassin Reader, or Wild with a mercenary reader, the possibilities are infinite folks.

Also also, if for some reason Mask and Thief Reader got separated before LU, and they reunite as Time and Still a Thief but much closer to their Rebellion Couterpart Reader. And their reunion basically goes like that one Puss in Boots, or the Lion King one scene: Thief Reader: *Holding dagger to throat, teeth bared as they just managed to steal the Fierce Deity Mask for the 10987th time from this strange man they don’t recognize after he gave chase, pauses for a couple of seconds in disbelieving, shocked recognition, dropping the blade*... Link?

Time: *Also in fight mode and ready to kick the attacker off of him and getting the mask back, actually takes a good look at their face and pauses in shock, long dead hope suddenly burning again, hesitant* (... Reader)? Thief Reader: *Not even hesitating to throw themselves at him in a hug with a slightly teary laugh* LINK! Time: *hugging them back just as tight, still somewhat in disbelief* (Reader).

Thief Reader: *pausing as they notice the Fierce Deity’s marks, flashbacks to all the times they told Mask not to over do it on the battlefield with it because they saw how much it hurt and affected him even if the Deity is pretty chill with them, chillingly livid as they level the tone at him, you know the one, pulling at one of his ears* ...Link.

Time, Knowing he is in danger as he recognizes that tone: ... (Reader). *wisely stays silent as they smack him hard on the shoulder and starting the lecture of a lifetime, silently glad Malon also isn’t here because she’d probably join you, but also just glad you’re even here to lecture and get mad at him in the first place after so long* The Chain, watching all this drama and telepathy display go down and who just wanted their stolen stuff back: I can just imagine the sheer confusion and bewilderment as to how Time knows this seemingly random thief who stole their stuff and would have probably dipped sucessfully if not by somehow getting Wild’s Slate, the Fierce Deity Mask and almost all of Legend’s rings at the same time and why they’re arguing like an old married couple about self care of all things. Most amusing reactions probably going for Twilight, Wild, Legend, Warriors and Wind. Or something, i’m probably not making much sense.

Anyway, I’ve probably bothered you with my rambling enough for one day xD Thank you once again for all your work in the fandom, maybe I’ll have more stuff on Lustrous reader or even Vessel reader next I’m by but until then, thank you ^^.

-Signed, Just a Tired Anon on A Stroll 🐚.

Anon!!! Hello again!!

NOT MY BOY LUCKY DX NOT LITTLE LINK!!!!! WHAT DO MEAN BAD TIME LIKE TIME AND SKY?!?!?!

But also, please tag in anything. I'm so intrigued and I want more fairytale stuff. Go ahead. XD

I'm glad you like the oneshots! Please tell me more of your thoughts on the Fear Room o.o I'm not big on horror so I'm glad it got the terror across ^.^*

And Fierce Deity and How to be a Heartbreaker and other because I want to hear all your thoughts. XD

And what do you mean Twilight- wild west au- rivalry?!?!? Hello!!?!??! You can't just drop that and say you won't elaborate!!!!

But this idea with theif! Reader is a good one :D

Clearly, you put a lot of thought into it and there's just so much potential.

The boys are all awkward and shuffling in the background as Time gets scolded because they're not sued to the leader cower back like that and even then he's not even trying to defend himself at this point and they're just staring. "....Who is this person?"

"No clue, but the Old Man finally got what was coming to him."

"I feel like my parents are fighting."

"I know them..." Warrior sighs. "I guess they haven't change at all."

Multiple heads turn to look at him.

He puts his hands up. "I'm not saying anything."

[magickalsapphic]

Possessed doll - witch community call for advice

Hello, I currently own a possessed doll and want to know what I can/should do about it.

Main call to action: please recommend books so I can properly learn about this, give me honest advice IF you have experience/knowledge.

Here's the full story:

I got this doll at a thrift store as a prop to a horror short film I was making. My ex picked her up because she was the one with "most life". Quickly after, my friends and I would joke that she was alive/possessed, I won't say the name we gave her but will call her Elise for the sake of this post.

After buying her, I attempted a very poor cleansing on my college dorm floor. I undressed her and cleaned her porcelain skin with Clorox wipes, with my tuning fork chanted a few phrases, circled her with crystals. Put the dress back on, try to feel for something, and not feeling it.

I assumed then that Elise was not possessed. We continued to joke about it, while in the meantime, just in case, I would also treat her gently, speak to her as if she were alive, and tell people she's (jokingly) possessed. Aaand she would occasionally (2-3 times) weirdly play music on her own (she has a music box and a winding key). It would happen if I picked her up or shifted her. But not *every time* I picked her up or shifted her.. First red flag.

Time passes, we record the short film. This shortfilm I wrote about the doll playing music on it's own (she has a winding key).. ha. In this shortfilm I made Elise lay next to a sewer, be forcibly dropped to knock her head as part of the plot, and got her all dirty. Not to mention her hair and hands had to be covered in blood. Fake blood. It was also very cold.

Afterward, I uploaded the video to YouTube (I don't think I should share the link). And it got about a hundred views (I know, fame).

I keep the doll in my dorm room this whole time. In the summer, I brought her to my mom's place where she sat on the windowsill outside my room for months.

I don't bring her back to my dorm room. I don't remember why.

Only 3 weeks in, my mom comes by to drop off some clothes and other stuff I missed. She brings Elise without me asking her to at all.

So she's back. I tell my friends about it, it's kind of funny considering possessed dolls do do that: return to a person if they try to move away from them. I keep her in my dorm room again, this time on the desk next to Agatha Christie and my completely empty black notebook I've been meaning to make into a Book of Shadows for years.

I've had vivid horrifying nightmares since I was a child. So I'm not worried when I get nightmares about Elise. One more thing to joke about.

September moves to October and I have this class that extensively talks about the progression of horror as one of the themes. Especially around Halloween. So yes, these things were on my mind. I'm a witch. I did recently watch the Exorcist and learn about Possession in my class. Take that as you will.

Actually, studying for the midterm for that class, a friend stayed over one night. Earlier, they did make fun of Elise, we were messing around, but they did use the winding key a bit, take her out of my room for a few minutes, I don't think it was.. that bad.

We went to bed at 3 am. It was so warm under the covers and I was restless. That is to say, there were reasons I was so tired and sleep deprived to have sleep paralysis.

I wake up, my friend is next to me. I look up and Elise is over the bed right on the window. But in reality, the window in my room is beside the bed, not above. Something is wrong. Elise is looking at me. No really, looking at me, and blinks, and moves her eyes and I'm scared. I wake up, my friend is next to me. I look up, the wall is normal, empty. To my right, Elise is lying next to me, on her side, facing me. I wake up. This time Elise isn't there, but my friend is talking to me. I wake up again, and again.

I wake up. I sit up. My friend is sleeping next to me. Elise is on my desk, facing me. I keep looking around and know I am finally awake. I could barely sleep that night.

The next morning, I once again tell friends about it, a little genuinely freaked out. We agree I should probably apologize, so I do. And I also give her a little gift -- a whistle thing someone gave me. I don't get a nightmare that night.

Nearing Halloween, 2 new friends come into my room on separate occasions. With the first, I have to move Elise out of the way to use my full desk for a project. When I pick Elise up from a chair, her music starts playing. It hasn't happened in a while. I don't want to actually scare this new friend, so I tell her I moved the winding key a bit. We laugh it off.

Not a week later, I believe October 29, another friend comes over and this one I want to scare off a bit, for fun. So I pick Elise up and introduce her to him. He is actually scared and I feel bad and reassure him that I am joking and that I'm 99% sure she's not possessed. I keep holding her. We keep talking and... this is what started to my mind. The music starts without me even moving her at all. No accidental shake, not really. My heart skipped a beat, really. And I reassured my friend that nothing was wrong. I'm just messing with him.

Right as my friend left, I message a witch friend I'm not very close with. I ask them for their experience and communicate some concerns. They give my contact to their more experienced in this subject friend, and they message me. They are an actual psychic medium, they tell me there is a possibility of possession but she can't know for sure. They advise me to cleanse her again, put her in a salt circle. Halloween was 2 days away, and the veil was thin. That I should watch out for the nightmares, since that's how they communicate with them, and that she doesn't sound malevolent. I should keep an eye on her.

That same night, because another friend said I should cleanse her soon, I panic and do it without much preparation.

I clean my desk a bit

I take my table salt

Lay Elise on the desk

Circle her with table salt

Circle her with some crystals

Use my tuning fork to once again cleanse her in the best way I could at that moment

Finally, I didn't know what the right words were, and in my chant I say that I'll be protected and nothing shall come out of the salt circle for 3 days.

That might've been a mistake, I don't know. Online resources were not the best either.

Because of what I'd said, I keep her in the salt circle from about October 29 night, to November 2nd day?

Then I clean the desk and her dress a bit, since it was slightly covered in salt, and I put her back on her spot on the desk.

A week passes (this is now 3 days ago, Thursday), I run into the psychic friend at an event. I tell her she can meet Elise if they want to.

So we go into my room. Immediately my friend (let's call them Ron) says there is a presence. By this point, I was still hoping Ron would say it was all in my head. But he sits in front of Elise and tells that there is a little girl inside. She's scared, lonely, and sad. She's embarrassed about the blood on her head and so I should give her a hat. She wants to be held sometimes. And she wants to be by the window, but at nights I should close the window because it'll get too cold. She isn't malevolent but might like to mess with me for fun -- watch out for missing or displaced things, and always be respectful. For example, if people come over I should introduce her to them -- you wouldn't want people you don't know coming into your room (it's her room just as mine).

Ron also tells me that she could be lying. Demons and ghosts can be tricksters. I simply hope she's not.

After Ron leaves, I take my pendulum and ask brief questions to Elise -- is she angry? no. does she mind if I have people over? no. does she care when I talk about her when she's in the room? yes. I don't remember what else I asked, and I couldn't tell -- still can't tel -- if she likes when I talk to her or not.

But well... the biggest thing that has me convinced. Happened that same night Ron came by.

At night, after having more friends over and having a good time. I won't lie, I had 2 hits of my 🍃 pen. But I was fine. I close the window. I'm closing the blind (Elise is on the window sill) and I don't know if I should go all the way down or not. So I say out loud "let's try to have it closed tonight, yeah? Then we can see what you prefer tomorrow."

I close the blinds completely. My hands on the strings, the bed side light turns off. Turns on. Turns off. Turns on. Turns off. The room is completely dark.

I'm shaking, I mess up getting the blinds back up but I do it. I furiously apologize to Elise and try to turn the light on again and it doesn't work. I check the plug, it's well connected. I don't know what to do. I keep apologizing, but I feel I have to be a little stern. I tell Elise I don't find that funny and that it made me sad, and that I don't want her to scare me like that anymore. Then I check the extension chord next to my bed, it is loose and I have to almost fully plug it back in. The light turns back on. Though, in bad timing, my automatic bathroom lights turn off in that same second, I pay no mind to that.

I stay frozen for minutes more. Then I remember that she's a scared little girl, and so I pick her up and apologize but also comfort her. She's very cold. I put her back on my desk. I close the blinds properly this time, and I somehow go to sleep.

After telling Ron about this, he says that they expected her to be more active after meeting him. It makes sense.

That was just 2 nights ago. I don't really know what to do about this. I can't tell if my headaches and misfortunes have anything to do with this because that's been my whole life. Ron says I can't get rid of her now, she's my doll now.

This is a lot and detailed because well, I am a writer. I hope this was entertaining at least, and I really do appreciate advice. Be kind, and be genuine. I don't know what I'm risking making this post.

PSA: I am a writer, I have a record of this post and this story and do not want anyone to use it without my consent. Everything in this post is real, don't get me wrong. But I want to be the one to write about it.

That is all, thank you for reading and have a good day:)

[damiano-mylove]

Movie Night

Pairing: Damiano David x fem!reader

Wc: 2.6k (sorry)

Cw(s): SMUT, bit of angst, swearing ofc, long for some reason, begging, not proof read

*Masterlist*

Work is a healthy habit to get into - to a certain extent. If you work to avoid your problems, that's not particularly one of the most healthy things to do. The only problem working can fix is if you're poor, but really minimum wage doesn't fix that either.

But your Damiano wasn't poor, he wasn't being paid minimum wage. You knew how much he loved working on music with his friends, but he was barely home and you missed him. Being without Damiano almost felt like being without your left arm - especially since it had been so abrupt, going from him spending a few hours writing, to spending almost a full day in the studio.

Tonight was supposed to be movie night. That Damiano had suggested. To make up for lost time.

So, you found yourself, alone, on your velvet red couch, watching Alice in Wonderland, with your cat on your lap. His purrs filled whatever wavelengths were left empty by the film, but you didn't mind that at all. Your fingers found their way into his incredibly soft fur, which felt like silk between those fingers of yours.

The clock soon struck midnight, and the film hit the end credits soon after. Damiano was still not home from the studio, which almost worried you. Almost. In the earlier days of him spending all of his time at Vic's for writing or in the studio, you had thought he'd run off with someone else. You woke up the next morning with him next to you, but that never really put that specific worry to rest.

"Romeo, Baby," you whispered to the silver tabby cat on your lap. He flicked his tail to let you know he heard you. "Dad's not home yet and I'm tired, we gotta go to bed. C'mon." Romeo only lifted his head to lay his grass green eyes on you once you stopped scratching his neck. You smiled to him, though his eyes didn't return it. "You've got half a minute before I move your furry tush."

To no one's surprise, Romeo took more than half a minute so you picked him up like a baby over your shoulder. Your palm cradled his soft feet. Like the lazy cat he was, Romeo fell back asleep on your shoulder on your short walk to your bedroom that you shared with the one and only, Damiano. He used to be a god to you, but now he was basically a roommate who you shared a kiss with every once in a while.

With Romeo asleep on the bed before you finished putting on pyjamas, you slunk off to brush your teeth. The door unlocked. Your heavy eyes cast unto the clock on the wall which read nearly half midnight.

Damiano came in like a whisper in the wind, save for the closet opening so he could deposit his coat. Shaking you head, you just finished brushing your teeth. Your mouth felt dry even though you'd just rinsed it with water.

"Cara mia," Damiano purred once his eyes caught your figure in the lamp light from the bedroom. You smiled at him and went into the bedroom to curl up with your cat and go to sleep. You had work in the morning and customers didn't appreciate workers who look like sleep-deprived zombies.

This was the first time in a long time that you didn't immediately greet him once he came through the door. So Damiano could sense a shift in the mood of the flat; really, he felt it as soon as he walked in and smelt chocolate and strong tea.

His footsteps never gave away where he was, but you could feel his presence enter the room. The bed dipped on the end just as Romeo curled further into you. When Damiano's hand held your ankle, Romeo let out a soft meow.

"What's wrong, Amore?"

"Did you forget or did you do it on purpose?" You immediately sat up as you asked the question. You were tired and to act like it was fine just wasn't in the cards tonight. Damiano's eyebrows drew together. You began to nod. "Movie night? You said you'd come home early to watch a film with us."

Damiano's face darkened in realization. You pursed your lip balm coated lips. Even Romeo could sense the tension and decided to stand up and sit square on your thighs, facing your boyfriend as if to protect you. Damiano looked to his hands which rested in his lap.

After a second, he said, "I-I thought that was tomorrow."

"Tonight was Tuesday night, now it's Wednesday morning," you muttered. Your fingers found the reassuring warmth of Romeo's fur once again and Romeo let out a rather sad sounding meow. "Oh, Romeo, don't worry. Dad just has to tell us he's sorry then we can sleep."

Both you and your cat looked to your boyfriend with tired but expectant eyes. Damiano's eyes never tore from his hands. Then it was like he was speaking to himself. "I was going to buy you flowers. And let you pick the film. And you were supposed to fall asleep on my shoulder, on the couch."

"It's okay, Dami, it's just a movie night," you told him. But your conscience caught you before you continued. Why the fuck were you reassuring him when he was the one who fucked up? Tell you that he'll be home in time for a sort of date night, then skip out. "We'll do it another night, it's all good."

"It's not all good, Y/n." One thing you could agree on tonight, though you'd never say that out loud. Finally, Damiano lifted his eyes from his soft hands. You noticed his eyes shimmer in the lamplight. "I really fucked up your night and for no good reason. I'm really sorry."

Leaning forward, you patted his arm. "Forgiven. We're adults and life gets in the way of romance."

"Not always, and not for us. I'm supposed to be the best boyfriend in the world but I've barely been a boyfriend to you at all lately, and I apologize." His words were stringing together faster in faster as he kept trying to keep his tears at bay. "It's just with the new album and everything, I'm finding out how shitty I am at balancing my life." Damiano came closer to you, holding your hand that once held his arm. "How can I make it up to you, Y/n? You're the love of my life and I don't want us to fizzle out."

For some reason, a little chuckle escaped your lips. His passion for you warmed your heart as you caught a glimpse of how you first had your heart captured by the man sitting before you. The light glittered in your eyes, for Damiano and Damiano alone. "We're not going to fizzle out over one missed movie night."

"Yes, but I've missed many of our nights, whether we made plans for them or not," Damiano rebutted. Your lips pressed together in a flat line. There was a certain ounce of truth to that statement. Damiano pressed a kiss to the back of your hand without maintaining eye contact. "Cara mia, nights are for the lovers, and I seem to have forgotten that."

His warm breath tickled the back of your hand just before his pressed more kisses to the back of your hand, then wrist, then fingers.

Sensing the warming room, Romeo left your lap. He threw you a final glance, seeming like he was making sure you didn't need him in the room to which you slightly nodded at the tabby. Romeo turned on his paws and left the room - leaving two starry-eyed partners who were still most ardently in love.

Without another word, you joined your lips with Damiano's. It had been a long while since a kiss such as this one had occurred. In the place of the usual passing kisses, this one made the love shared prominent. This kiss felt as if your Damiano was once again yours and totally yours; not as if he ever wasn't, but this was a much needed reminder of that.

Holding your face in his large hands, Damiano deepened the kiss by turning his head ever-so slightly. His tongue slid into your mouth with a passionate fervour. There was no battle for dominance, but a mutual exploration of each other's mouths.

Damiano tenderly laid you down against the pillows on your side of the bed, though his lips parted from yours which was an unhappy fate. "Do you want to go further, Cara mia? I know this doesn't equal forgiveness."

"I've never wanted anything more, Dami, my sweetest love," you promised him. Damiano smiled at your admission. He began to place gentle, loving kisses to your neck. "Only if you want to."

"Oh, trust me." Damiano nipped your collarbone, resulting in a yelp from you. You could feel his smirk against your warming skin. "I want to."

Damiano's bites roamed the skin of your chest that your tank top allowed, before you sat up to take it off. Your fingers found Damiano's soft hair as he left sloppy, wet kissed all over your now exposed chest. A bitten back moan escaped your mouth just as his tongue began to circle the tender skin of your nipple, making your back arch into the man above you.

This was an admission of your pleasure, so Damiano's mouth fully encircled your nipple as his hand that once caressed your hip, now cupped your other breast. His warm palm massaged you firmly, having Damiano's name fall from your lips. It had been a while since he'd touched you like this, with such care and attention. Every fiber of Damiano's being was now focused on making his love for you known.

When his warm mouth left your breast to be exposed to the chill of the room, his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple, having goosebumps multiply on your skin at a sky high rate. His mouth then was turned to your other breast as his other hand twisted and pinched the exposed nipple.

Your hands began trying to get his deep red shirt off, to bring his warmth to you. But before Damiano would let you have what you wanted most, he bit the sweet spot beneath your boob, no doubt leaving a mark that would be apparent the next day.

As Damiano leaned up to pull his shirt over his head, you nearly melted underneath him. His hair was already beginning to become delightfully fucked up and the look in his eye was absolutely dark. The look he gave you before joining your lips once again was full of love, accompanied by lust and desire. Damiano slid off his tight leather trousers while he was at it, allowing you to palm him through his briefs.

The kiss shared was now hungry and feverish. The nails of the unoccupied hand scratched down his back, resulting Damiano bucking his hips into your hand. You removed it, which finally gave you the glorious friction that you so completely craved. Damiano no doubt sensed this as he grabbed the back of your thigh as he continued to grind right into the thin layer that separated you both.

"Damiano, please," you nearly cried. The chuckle that came from Damiano was low and only made your panties become even more wet.

"Please what?"

"You know what I mean." He was killing you. Once the words left your lips, Damiano ground his hips into you again. "Fuck me. Fuck me, please. Please."

"See, was that so hard, Amore?" Damiano purred as he lowered the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. He threw them somewhere in the room before pressing his index finger against your clit. You tried to pull him in for a kiss, but Damiano resisted. "Ah, ah, I want to see just how much I effect you."

"You're the fucking-wow-devil himself."

Damiano's laugh bordered upon an evil one. "You love me."

"I love you, I love you so fucking much," you moaned. Damiano smiled as he lowered your grey panties. Those were discarded somewhere along with your pyjama bottoms, but you couldn't give half a fuck because Damiano's perfectly manicured finger found it's way inside of you. You bucked against his hand, making Damiano laugh.

His finger drew circles inside of you while his thumb still played with your clit. God, Damiano was so much better than your own fingers. Without a warning, another finger was added, making a sort of porn-esque moan leave you. Damiano groaned at the sound as well as the sight in front of him. Even his dreams of you weren't as good as this.

It wasn't as if he could help himself from leaning down once again and attaching his mouth to your erect nipple. Your eyes crossed at three parts of your body were on fire with immense pleasure. The flames of rapture enveloped most of your body, even your soul.

"I'm-m-m gonna cum," you cried out. Damiano smiled against your breast as his fingers began going faster. "No, no, let me cum on your cock." Damiano looked up at you with a bit of surprise. You'd never said something like that without prompt.

The needy look that painted your face was all Damiano had to see before he complied. His briefs were off in the blink of an eye and he began to pump himself just to prepare. Your legs were spread wide as you could already feel yourself drip onto the sheets below which made Damiano groan with barred teeth.

He lined himself up with your entrance and gave you one final questioning look. You nodded adamantly before he pushed himself through your folds.

Truly, you could feel your soul ascend as you remembered just how big he was. You big your lip so hard you nearly broke skin while Damiano hissed an intake of breath. He came down to your lips to taste your minty mouth just as his hips began rocking into you, first at a slow pace, then began to get closer.

Damiano's hips snapped into yours quickly, and the sound of smacking skin filled the room, along with the scent of sex and sweat. The combination of both of your moans filled each other's mouths. The bedroom was incredibly hot but somehow you were in a cold sweat, save for where your body joined with Damiano's in sweet harmony.

"Fuck, Y/n, you're so fucking tight," Damiano huffed. You clenched around his cock, only making Damiano cry out with pleasure. Your nails drew down his back, clinging him closer and closer to you with every thrust against your g-spot. Tears brimmed your eyes as a knot formed in the lower part of your stomach.

"Soon, I'm cumming soon."

"Cum on my cock, Baby, just like you want."

You could tell his thrusts were getting sloppy because he was closing in on his release as well. But you couldn't help but cum first as the knot suddenly exploded within you.

Your walls spasmed against Damiano as your release washed over you. Your legs tingled and your toes went a bit numb. Damiano then hit in you a few more times before his own seed seeped into you. It was warm and you felt incredibly full as Damiano stayed within you for an extra few seconds, before falling next to you.

"I know you said this wouldn't equal forgiveness but I'm feeling very forgiving," you sighed. Damiano chuckled and looked over at you. Your skin glowed in orgasmic radiance and your hair was completely fucked out. Damiano's heart swelled at the sight and he couldn't help but kiss you again.

He cleaned you both up after, with a warm wash cloth, and got you new pyjamas. Romeo reentered the room once the sex smell was gone and you were in Damiano's arms once again. Your cat curled between both of you in the dead of night, like the beginnings of a family.

Damiano came home Wednesday afternoon with a massive bouquet that must have cost a pretty pence, a box of Belgian chocolate and a bag of cat treats. It seemed a movie night was in order.

[pawsitivelymiraculous]

Le parfum de l'amour

This is the @maribat-secret-santa-2020 piece for @saltandfluff I am so sorry for being late!

Anyway, I will be using the quantic kids, but you don't necessary have to know them to understand this fic.

The only have to know that "Melodie" is Allegra's nickname.

Ao3

It was always a bad idea to try to mess with fate. Everyone knew this. Allegra knew this, but she didn't care. Not when it was taking a toll on her sanity.

There were only so many times a person could see two literal soulmates walk past each other before they decided to take matters into their own hands.

So that's what she did.

Or well, was going to do once she could convince her friends to help her out.

"I don't know, Mel." Allan rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "These things take time you know? You cannot rush it." He glanced at the corkboard that was behind Allegra and winced, it was going to be impossible to talk her out of the crazy plan.

On the corkboard, there were two pictures. One was a selfie of Marinette Dupain-cheng. A twenty-year-old who was a regular at the café where Allegra and Claude worked at. After chatting with her in the mornings, Allegra decided to adopt the girl, and she introduced her to the rest of the group. She quickly became friends with Allan and surprisingly enough, with Felix as well.

The second picture was a rather blurry photo that was clearly taken from afar. You could sort of make out the image of Timothy Drake. The sleep-deprived twenty-one-year-old who had started going to the café for about a month. All the employees loved him because he never failed to amuse everyone with his half-asleep antics.

The one thing that both pictures had in common was a coffee cup.

On Marinette's collarbone, there was a small tattoo-like mark that looked like a coffee cup. The same one that was on Tim's wrist. Soul marks . Granted, they looked a bit plain compared to most people's soul marks, but in Allegra's eyes, they were the excuse she needed to get them together.

Allegra had shipped her two favorite customers long before she noticed their soul marks. But now that she knew they were soulmates . Well, she was not going to rest until they finally met.

"I'm not trying to rush things!" Allegra insisted. "I just want to push them in the right direction."

Allan looked at her, doubtful. "That's basically the same thing. Plus do actually think that," he squinted to read the list of plans that was tacked on the corkboard. "'Locking them inside a room with no escape' is merely pushing them in the right direction? 'Cause I think that sounds more like a hostage situation."

Allegra glared at him. "You know what? I don't need your help. Claude will help me. Right, Claude?"

Claude looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh no no no. Sorry Melodie but I can't."

"Uh, I'm sorry what?" Allegra blinked. It was very out of character for Claude to turn down the opportunity to help her with one of her elaborate plans. Not to mention that in this case, they were doing it to help Marinette.

"Allegra," he said solemnly, "this is a destiny thing. We just can't interfere."

Allegra facepalmed. "You can't be serious."

Claude looked at her dead in the eye. "If we interfere we might end up," he leaned towards  her and whispered " cursed"

"Oh give me a break." Allegra pushed Claude away. "Are you guys kidding me? This is Marinette we're talking about. You all can't possibly think that Marinette wouldn't want to meet her soulmate, and as her friends, we have to help her."

"I agree with Allegra."

Everyone spun around in surprise.

Felix rolled his eyes at his friends' incredulous expressions. "What? Marinette is my friend as well. Is it really that shocking that I want to see her happy?" The three of them nodded. He ignored them. "Besides, I've heard Marinette ramble about soulmates nonstop, so it's clear that meeting hers is what she would want."

Allegra was the first to react "See guys? Even Felix agrees with me!"

Felix huffed. "Yes, but I also think that your plans are ridiculous and ineffective."

"Ouch"

"I think the best thing we can do to help is to get them to interact and we-"

"That's literally what my plans are for!" Allegra interrupted.

Claude crossed his arms. "And what do you mean by 'we'? I haven't agreed to do anything."

Shooting both of them a glare, Felix continued. "- can do that without needing to kidnap them. We simply have to make it so that they have no other choice but to sit at the same table at the café. You all know how friendly Marinette is, it will only be a matter of time before they start talking."

There was a beat of silence.

"That… that might actually work," Allan admitted. "Soulmates are naturally drawn to each other so once they actually have a conversation we won't have to do anything else. They can figure out that they're soulmates by themselves." He paused and then chuckled. "We'll just have to push them in the right direction."

"But how are we going to get them in the café at the same time?" Allegra asked. "Tim always comes in right after Mari has left."

"Pft that's easy!" Claude exclaimed. "Just tell her that you need help with something and that you'll need for her to stay a while longer at the café. Since Mari doesn't have early classes on Wednesday she'll agree and- oh!" Claude suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth as his eyes widened with horror. "This does not mean that I'm helping." He mumbled from underneath his hand.

Allan laughed. "I think you just did."

"Looks like someone's going to end up cursed." Allegra singed songed. "Not even ladybug is going to be able to help you with that bad luck that's to come." She teased.

Claude pouted. "Haha, laugh all you want." He then looked up at the corkboard and grimaced. "But you're right, there's no turning back now. What do you need me to do?"

Allegra clapped her hands in glee.

"Okay so here's the plan."

~♡~♡~♡~

Just like Claude had predicted, it was incredibly easy to convince Marinette to stay at the café. All that was left to do was orchestrate everything just so that the two soulmates had to sit at the same table.

It was easier said than done but after enlisting more people to help out, they were able to make sure that the café was full for that morning.

Everything was going according to plan…

Until…

"WHERE. IS. TIM?"

Claude looked around. "He hasn't arrived yet?"

"No!" Allegra cried. She glanced down at her watch and winced. They were running out of time.

Claude frowned. "And you know, it would have been nice if Marinette hadn't chosen today to wear a turtleneck."

Allegra couldn't help but agree. Sure, Marinette looked amazing with the turtleneck and skirt outfit but did she really have to wear it today? When they needed for her to show off her soul mark?

It was like the universe was against them.

But finally, Allegra heard a tinkling sound at the door. She spun around praying that it was Tim.

And it was!

He looked more tired than usual as he stumbled around trying to find a seat.

Allegra watched as Tim danced around the tables that were being occupied just as he was about to take a seat.

One after the other until finally, a good push later, he ended up at Marinette's table.

~♡~♡~♡~

Tim was too tired to deal with this.

All he wanted was to sit down, have a couple of cups of coffee at his favorite coffee shop and finally be awake enough to continue investigating the moth guy.

But apparently, that was too much to ask because almost all the tables were full.

"Sorry man," Claude whispered as he guided a couple and motioned them to sit at the table that Tim had beelined for.

"Oh, actually I'm waiting for Adam." Felix had said when Tim asked if he could sit with him. Which was strange since Adam had said that he was waiting for Felix when he asked him.

But he could barely comprehend what they were saying, so he was not conscious enough to complain.

Tim continued on his journey when he felt someone push him from behind. In his half-asleep haze, Tim lunged at the chair that was in front of him hoping that it would break his fall.

It took him a few seconds to recover. He wanted nothing more than to pass out right then and there, splayed out on a coffee shop chair as everyone stared at him wondering if he was drunk.

He too wondered if he was drunk, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so if he was drunk, he was not going to figure it out on his own.

When he finally looked up, his eyes met with a pair of beautiful bluebell eyes.

~♡~♡~♡~

Marinette watched as a guy stumbled around the café until finally flopping onto the other chair at her table.

It was clear that he was sleep-deprived. She had seen enough videos that her evil friends had taken when she was in a similar state to know the poor guy probably hadn't slept at all for the last week or so.

Marinette wanted nothing more than to drag the guy to the nearest bed or couch and wrap him up in a bunch of blankets. Just because she didn't comprehend the term "self-care" for herself  didn't make Marinette any less of a "mom friend"

But she had to remind herself that she didn't know the guy, so it might be considered kidnapping to drag someone somewhere against their will.

Too bad.

The best she could do was offer him her own coffee.

"Hey, I think you need this more than I do at the moment." She said, pushing the drink his way as he stood up.

He mumbled something that could be interpreted as a "thank you" and eagerly took the drink. His eyes lit up when the heavenly liquid touched his tongue.

It was almost miraculous how quickly the caffeine took effect.

Actually, it was Marinette may or may not have mixed a little concoction she made with Tikki that helped her when she stayed up late with her regular coffee.

The guy blinked. "This. Is. Incredible."

Marinette laughed "Yeah, it's what I always get. Though you still look like you need to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah whatever." He waved her off. "But seriously, what is this called? I need a gallon of this."

"Sorry," Marinette said sheepishly "but I'm afraid that's a secret, you know, I'm kind of everyone's favorite, so I get the miracle coffee." Okay so that was a lie but what else could she say?

The guy pouted. Marinette had to admit that he looked adorable.

"Well, then I'm sure you can get me some then... um"

"Marinette."

"Ah, nice to meet you, coffee goddess, I'm Tim."

Marinette's cheeks heated up. "Uh, coffee goddess? Shouldn't they be the coffee gods and goddesses?" She pointed at Allegra, Claude, and the others.

"Nah, you have blessed me with this amazing coffee. Claude didn't even help me in my time of need."

"You know Claude?" Marinette asked, surprised.

"Yep, I've been coming here since I arrived in Paris, so I've gotten to know Allegra and Claude a bit."

"That's funny, I've never seen you. And I come here every day." Marinette said.

"Huh, that's weird. I've never seen you either. "

And from there they kept talking. Like they were old friends and not just acquaintances. Marinette found out that Tim had come from Gotham city. That he was in Paris because of business. Meanwhile, Tim learned that Marinette was an aspiring fashion designer and a college student who was close friends with almost everyone from the café.

Hours passed and the two were still deep in conversation completely oblivious to the crowd that had gathered behind the cafe's counter to watch the soulmates.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this before." Adrien, who had arrived after Tim, whispered to his cousin.

"I was under the impression that your father needed your assistance for the upcoming fashion show. I was not about to ask my dear uncle Gabe if I could steal you so that we could set up our friend and his future competitor, Marinette Dupain-cheng, with her soulmate."

Adrien hated to admit that he had a point. "Fine, but can you at least catch me up to date? Who is he?"

"He's a rich guy from Gotham city. He's pretty cool though he's basically Marinette when it comes to coffee which is honestly kinda scary now that I'm seeing them interact." Allegra whispered.

Adrien looked down to look at her. "Alright, I guess I'm going to have to do my own research since you guys are useless. What's his job? Why is he rich? If his from Gotham then who knows, maybe this guy is actually dangerous and wants to take Marinette as ransom for-"

"Oh please Adrien, stop with your theatrics. Do you honestly think that I would allow this if he was dangerous?" Felix interrupted.

"I mean-"

Felix glared at him.

"No?"

Felix sighed. "Timothy Drake is Marinette's soulmate, and I can assure you that he's clean. So don't worry about Marinette."

Allegra shushed the cousins. "Guys, I'm trying to listen here you know?"

"Um, you could probably hear better from up here" Felix nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, Adrien, but I don't want to risk Marinette seeing me and then remembering about time and stuff."

"Ah"

"Speaking of time, it's been years since I last ate, I'm hungry." Claude cut in.

"Claude! You're supposed to be with the customers!" Allegra whisper-shouted.

"Whoops."

~♡~♡~♡~

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Marinette eventually remembered the reason she had stayed in the cafe. Not only that but when she looked at her watch she realized that she was running late for class.

After Marinette's rushed exit, Tim went back to investigating Hawkmoth. But while they were trying to concentrate on their own thing. Marinette with her class and Tim with his research they found themselves zoning out and thinking about each other.

It was strange, they had quite literally just met.

Why had they made such an impact on each other?

~♡~♡~♡~

It wasn't until Marinette was getting ready to go to bed that she found the answer.

"Tikki is… is that what I think it is." Marinette's voice trembled as she stared at her reflection on the mirror.

Tikki gasped. "Oh Marinette, I think it is!"

Staring back at her was her soul mark, which no longer was a regular coffee cup but rather a gorgeous cup with beautiful red flowers that surrounded a somewhat familiar symbol.

"But, how? I mean they're not supposed to change… right? And why?" Marinette's eyes widened. "Does this mean that I met my soulmate? Who is it?"

Tikki giggled, "You seriously don't know?"

"Umm no? Should I?" Tikki continued to giggle as her holder looked at her confused. "Who is it Tikki?"

"Oh Marinette, how many new people did you meet today?"

"Uh, I don't know? I mean surely I must've passed by lots of strangers in the street." Marinette panicked. "Oh no Tikki! What if one of them is my soulmate? I'll never find out who they are!"

"So you don't remember meeting anyone else?"

"I don't think so, well other than ohhh- "

"Exactly"

~♡~♡~♡~

Tim could not believe what he was seeing. Gone was the plain coffee cup he was used to seeing, the daily reminder of the fact that he was still painfully single, it now had an intricate flower pattern that surrounded a symbol.

He recognized that symbol.

After weeks of researching and tailing the red Parisian heroine, he knew that it was the Ladybug symbol.

But why was it on his soul mark?

Unless…

No, the heroine couldn't be his soulmate, Tim hasn't even officially met her. Nor had he even seen her today.

The only blue-eyed girl he had met was Marinette.

Marinette  

No, it was impossible. Except it wasn't. Tim had only known the girl for a couple of hours, but he knew that  Marinette would make a great heroine or vigilante.

But, he… he was probably hallucinating, right? Tim hadn't slept for weeks, so surely he was just seeing things and his soul mark was still a plain coffee cup and the Marinette conclusion was just wishful thinking.

Right?

Because otherwise, his first meeting with his soulmate was him acting like a sleep-deprived zombie and Tim could not allow that.

Well, one thing was for sure, he really needed to get some sleep.

~♡~♡~♡~

Three days.

It took three days for Marinette to find Tim.

She looked everywhere. The coffee shop, Le Grand Paris Hotel, the tourist areas, and when she was ladybug she looked down from all the rooftops trying to find him.

But he had vanished, leaving Marinette worried sick that he had either A. Gone back to Gotham  B. Died or C. Been so horrified that she was his soulmate that he decided to move to a remote island and changed his name in hopes of never seeing her again.

Gosh, she was starting to sound like her fourteen-year-old self.

But finally, she saw him, sitting on a bench, not far from her own home, looking down at his wrist.

He looked at his wrist like it was some puzzle he needed to solve. Marinette also noticed that he looked a lot more refreshed, so he must've finally gotten some sleep.

Marinette cleared her throat. "Well, you've been a very hard person to find Mr. Drake."

Tim looked up. "Ma- Marinette!"

"We need to talk."

Tim nodded his mouth hanging wide open as he stared at her soul mark.  

"How do you feel about coffee? There's a coffee shop that's not very far from here, I hear their coffee is divine.

~♡~♡~♡~

Bonus:

(this was going to be a scene on the fic but I didn't know how to add it but it has important info sooo)

*They are at the coffee shop*

Marinette: So you're red robin.

Tim: And you're Ladybug

Marinette: Should I be worried? Like doesn't this compromise our secret identities?

*Claude and Allegra appear with some pastries*

Claude: Yooo Marinette! So you found your soulmate! Crazy right? We totally didn't have anything to do with it!

*Allegra elbows him*

Claude: So uh, congratulations! I um feel happy for you.

*looks nervously at Allegra who is glaring at him*

Claude: Bummer about the soul mark though…

*Allegra keeps glaring*

~♡~♡~♡~ Permanent tag list  ~♡~♡~♡~

Claude: What? It's just a plain white cup!

Bonus bonus:

(here's a bad doodle and my crappy handwriting)

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

@charme-de-malchan, @theatreandcomicfreak, @m3owww, @elliebelliegirl, @genevieve-the-demonologist, @vixen-uchiha, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @waffleyunsure, @technicallyburninggarden, @azuremayscarlet, @vroomtaka, @emimar7, @ichigorose, @maskedpainter, @art-is-hard-to-do-sorry

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Oh, and to add onto my Tik Tok ask! His is a legitimate argument where “shifting” makes things canon.

Ahem…

…

nah cause dabi simp try to convince themselves that dabi don't smell like rotting flesh and old iron 😭✋🏽

he does. when I shift that is anyways😅

I KNEW ITTTT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AFO smells like mint- I know this from hugging him when sleepy😅

or like a burning corpse which isn't a nice smell (i imagine)

it isn't. my mum's friend has been I the came room as the ppl who cremated her husband and told me it was a horrid smell😬

the closest thing to it i've smelled is when i saw a burning bus and burning rubber smells so bad

yep

…

I’m sorry I keep sending you Tik Tok stuff, I just laugh at people’s stupidity on that app 😭 (to clarify, I don’t like making fun of people’s hygiene. So when I see this, it also irritates me)

WHY WAS THAT USER HUGGING AFO

THAT IS BY FAR THE MOST DISTURBING FACT. BECAUSE FOR WHAT I UNDERSTAND ABOUT SHIFTING, PEOPLE HAVE TO IMAGINE THAT FIRST? AND THEN GO DREAM IT OR WHATEVER?

Why would someone want to hug AFO. I'm trying hard not to judge but I'm concerned.

Anyway.

Listen, the members of the League are poor. It bothers me A LOT that people cares so much about how they smell. That's a privilege they don't have at all. With money, Toga could barely bought her a new coat. Do you think they have time for body baths? And perfume? And body lotions? And beauty products? L

And not even just poor, but living on the streets, running away from the law. And most of them have psychological and physical issues along with a lot of stress.

I'm really sorry, because this is fiction and people is allowed to have fun with things like this, but I can't stop thinking about what a desperate and sad situation they were in. Stealing medical supplies, hurrying to find a hideout, being hungry, sleep deprived, dehydrated, sleeping on whatever place you could find, using the same clothes...

I'd dare anyone to live like that and try and smell "nice".

I bet the League have their hygienic routine (showering some days of the week, brushing their teeths at least once a day, going to the bathroom, treating their wounds and stuff). So in any sense, I'd say the smell tired. Maybe Dabi smells like the things he puts on his burns constantly to keep them clean. Maybe he smells a little of sweat and dirt, since he uses so much the same clothes. Or maybe like the products the League use to shower (I'd like to think they smell all the same thanks to it sometimes).

Such vain comments like "omg he stinks" are just not for me. They are too superficial for me, I guess.

[jenstar1992-2]

Heaven

Pairing: Echo X Reader

Warnings: Some language, insinuations of sexual activities (I don’t know if that’s the right wording necessarily, but there it is), mentions of nightmares, loss, and grieving.

Word Count: 3,836

A/N: So, I'm not sure what all devices in the Star Wars universe are called, and in order to not sound completely inept, I decided to just describe the devices' functions instead of naming them and seeing as I've never come across some of these types of devices in Star Wars, I figured this was the best way to go. I hope that makes sense. Also, I have added a lyric video below for reference. I was initially going to just link an already existing lyric video for the song, but then I just decided to make one instead, using some visuals that better fit the content. Which then meant I had to create a Youtube channel just to upload the thing and link it here, because it wouldn’t let me upload directly from my laptop. 🤷🏼‍♀️ So that's there if anyone wants it, and I now have a Youtube channel for my longer edits. 

It was one of those nice, quiet evenings, the kind you didn't get very often ever since you started working with The Bad Batch. They weren't necessarily the rowdiest bunch of clones you'd met, but they did seem to always find a way to interrupt you and your boyfriend's alone time.

It seemed like every time you and Echo found a quiet moment where it was just the two of you, one, if not the whole lot, of them would come barging in out of nowhere, needing something or another. Although, you were pretty sure Wrecker just did it because he thought it was funny to annoy you, and knowing that fact only annoyed you more, but you'd let it slide, always reassuring yourself that there would be a next time, one that wouldn't be intruded upon. It seemed that tonight was one of those times, seeing as the four commandos were off gathering supplies at the nearby village of the planet you were temporarily taking residence on, and you were planning on making the most of it while you could.

It didn't take you long to locate your boyfriend, despite your first impressions the Havoc Marauder was not that big of a craft, so there were only so many places he could be. You found him in the communal sleeping quarters, sitting on the bunk you two shared, datapad in hand reading something or another, as usual. You had been given your own bunk, but after your first week with the group, you realized that you preferred to just sleep together. You both had a little trouble sleeping and found that sleeping in one another's embrace seemed to keep the nightmares at bay and gave you both a much more restful sleep.

You walked over and sat beside him, sliding your arms around his middle and holding him as you rested your head on his shoulder. He chuckled and wrapped the nearest arm around you, keeping you close as he continued to read.

You smiled and let out a contented sigh. Moments like this were rare alright, which is what made you appreciate them more when they did occur. It was just nice to be able to have a sweet moment with your love without a joke being made, or the always popular, "Get a room" comment.

"Would love to", you'd say, "Only problem is, it just so happens to be everyone's room."

"Damn, doesn't that bite the big one", would come Crosshair's snide remark, as he shook his head, mocking you like the snarky ass he was.

It was a good thing that deep down you really did like these guys, or you would've kicked some asses long ago.

You reveled in this quiet moment for a while longer before peeking at the datapad in his hand and asking, "So, what are you reading this time, anything interesting, or just more boring rule books?"

He laughed and shook his head. "You know, I don't just read reg manuals", he responded, turning his head to give you a smirk.

You shrugged. "I know, but you definitely read them a lot more than anyone else I know. I'm not even sure if some of the boys have ever read them actually."

He laughed again and you smiled at the sound. "Well, I'd like to think I've been branching out more lately with my literary escapades. I'm at least trying to be more fun, wouldn't want your book worm of a boyfriend boring you to death", he said, leaning into you with a light shove before straightening up again.

You chuckled and held him a bit tighter. "Yeah, you're a book worm alright, but you’re my book worm, and you’re not boring love, far from it", you said as you pulled your head from his shoulder to meet his gaze.

His eyes softened as he looked into yours, silently thanking you for the praise. He leaned his face to yours and kissed you lovingly, and with so much softness it almost hurt when he pulled away.

You just gazed into each other's eyes for a minute before you remembered why you'd come to find him in the first place.

You unwrapped your arms from around him. "Speaking of trying to be more fun, I have something fun we could do", you said with a bright smile.

He eyed you curiously. "Oh yeah, what did you have in mind?"

You rose from the bunk to stand in front of him, grabbing the datapad from his flesh hand and tossing it on the pillow beside him, taking the now empty hand and his cybernetic one in yours and pulling him to his feet.

"You are going to indulge your girlfriend, who's been waiting all day for this mind you, with a dance", you replied, smile still taking over your features.

He cocked an eyebrow, as if your response surprised him. "Huh, definitely not what I thought you were going to say", he said.

"And what did you think I was going to say", you asked with a smirk as you went to your original bunk above your shared one and pulled out a small electronic device, typing away on it, searching for something.

"Well, I, um... I thought, uh...", Echo stammered, as he rubbed the back of his neck, still searching for the right words. He cleared his throat before saying, "Uh, nothing, nothing, so a dance, huh?"

You shook your head and chuckled at his nervous behavior, you knew exactly what he thought you'd meant, but you weren't going to embarrass him any further.

"Yes, a dance", you replied, finding the audio file you'd been searching for and pulling it up. You then connected the device to the small amplifying device on the table across the room.

"That sounds nice cyare, but I don't know how to dance", he confessed shyly.

You smiled and looked to him. "Then I'll teach you", you told him, pressing on the file to play it and setting the device back on the bed.

As the soft music filled the room, you walked to your now flustered looking boyfriend, taking him by the hand and then slowly guiding him to take your hips. He didn't hesitate to do so, and as he rested his hands on you, and you placed yours around his neck, a light blush rose on his cheeks. He always got like this when you two did anything even remotely intimate. It baffled you that after this long of being together, and after doing much more than this, that he'd be this worked up over, what you saw as, a simple act. But maybe it wasn't so simple to him, maybe the years of touch deprivation had him craving it more than you realized, and add the emotion behind the action, the love you felt transferring between the two of you in something as small as a glance, and you could understand his reaction. This realization had you thanking whatever powers at be for bringing you two together, allowing you to be that person for him, because it was truly a gift, one you wouldn't take for granted.

You began to slowly sway your body from side to side, coaxing him to follow your movements. As you both found the right pace and swayed in time to the song's slow rhythm, you listened to the words being sung and let your mind wander, the words bringing memories to the surface of your consciousness.

Oh, thinkin' about our younger years,

There was only you and me,

We were young and wild and free.

You remembered when you'd first met Echo, back when he was a new addition to the 501st. A young trooper, who's dream was to one day receive ARC statues. You had become fast friends, and after only a few months it was clear that your friendship had grown into something more. It was obvious you two had feelings for each other, the only people who were blind to this were you and Echo. A problem that was soon remedied by his brother, Fives, who had all but forced Echo to admit how he felt to you, which he did, albeit, with quite a bit of struggle on his part, the poor guy could barely get his words out. Luckily, you had caught on to what he was trying to say, and took pity on him, deciding to take this opportunity to tell him that you felt the same.

You still remember the look of surprise on his face at your confession, he hadn't believed it at first, but when you plucked up the courage to grab him by the chest plate and pull him into a tender kiss, he knew you weren't lying, and this had his heart soaring.

Now nothing can take you away from me.

We've been down that road before,

But that's over now.

You keep me comin' back for more.

After the battle to defend Kamino, Echo had finally gotten what he'd been working so hard to achieve, he had been promoted to ARC Trooper, and you couldn't have been happier for him. You remember him coming into your station of the hangar to tell you the good news.

You'd been working on fixing up some loose wiring on a transport ship when you were suddenly lifted from the ground and the world spun around you. After a moment of disorientation, you found your bearings and stared up at the culprit, only to find your boyfriend beaming down at you.

"Woah, where's the fire", you asked in jest.

"No fire, just have some good news", he responded, still smiling wide.

"Oh, ok then, spill."

"We did it", he said simply.

"Umm, ok, who did what exactly", you asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"Fives and I, we're being made ARC Troopers", he said, his chest puffing out a bit with pride.

"What, that's great", you practically shouted, and pulled him into a tight embrace. "I knew you could do it; you've worked so hard, you deserve this. I'm so happy for you, you're finally getting your dream."

He squeezed you tighter. "Thank you, and thank you for always believing in me, even when I didn't", he said quietly.

You pulled back to look at him before speaking. "I'll always believe in you Echo. Always and forever."

That was your thing, the mantra of your relationship, if you will, "I'll love you always and forever". This was because you both believed it to be true. Neither one of you could see yourselves falling for anyone else or loving another the way you did each other.

“Always and forever cyare”, he said, smiling softly at you, “And now I can focus on my other dream.”

You gave him confused look. “Other dream, what’s your other dream”, you asked.

His smile grew as he leaned in to speak low in your ear. “You”, he said, making your stomach do a somersault.

You knew it would be difficult, but you two wanted to plan a future together, and spend whatever time you had left together making a family and living a quiet, happy life. Once this miserable war was over, that's exactly what you were going to do.

Unfortunately, things don't always work out the way we want them to, and your dreams of a peaceful life with your beloved were shattered when the day came that the 501st returned from their mission on Lola Sayu, minus an ARC Trooper.

Oh, once in your life you'll find someone,

Who will turn your world around,

Pick you up when you're feelin' down.

Now nothing can change what you mean to me.

There's a lot that I could say,

But just hold me now.

Fives had been the one to give you the dreadful news and had stayed to help you through the initial shock and pain of it all. He had been ready for the inevitable tears he knew would come and did they ever. You couldn't remember a time before that, where you had cried with as much vigor or to the extent that you had, when shedding tears for your lost love.

I've been waiting for so long,

For somethin' to arrive,

For love to come along.

Time seemed to pass by agonizingly slow, as you tried to regain some semblance of normalcy in your life. Having both lost the person you held dear, you and Fives had found a new understanding for one another, and subsequently formed a close bond. He was the friend you desperately needed, just as you were for him. So, when you eventually lost him as well, you were beside yourself with grief.

Instead of wallowing in your sorrow, like you wanted to, you decided to throw yourself into your work, trying desperately to keep yourself busy, so as to not give yourself time to think of what you had lost. This worked most of the time, but there were always those times when something would remind you of them, a laugh that was just too close to the one you remembered, or a smile from a kind trooper that hit too close to home. Then there were those nights where you would wake from a nightmare and reach out beside you for a comforting hand, only to find empty space, those times were the hardest. It took everything you had inside you to just keep on going, because you knew that they wouldn't have wanted you to give up, so you carried on, even when it hurt.

Now our dreams are comin' true,

Through the good times and the bad,

I'll be standin' there by you.

It had been a year since the mission on Lola Sayu, a year of you trying to get on with your life, and forget the past, because remembering only caused you more pain. But life has a funny, if not sadistic, way of turning on its head and changing your course when you least expect it, because soon after that year mark, you received the news you never thought you'd get.

"He's alive", Rex said, eyes boring into yours, trying to get you to believe what he was telling you, but you weren't about to give in that easily.

"What you're saying is impossible, both you and Fives told me you saw him die at the citadel, and now you're telling me he miraculously survived. I'm not buying it, and I don't appreciate you trying to get my hopes up, just so they can be ripped back down once you're proven wrong", you said, with more venom in your voice than you had intended.

"I know I'm right on this one, (Y/N). I heard him, it was Echo's voice on that transmission, I'm sure of it", he reiterated, desperate for you to listen, or to at least consider it to be true.

"I'm sorry Rex, but I just can't believe what you're saying. I can't take another blow, I just can't, because if I do, I fear I won't make it out the other side this time" you said as tears began to fill your eyes.

Rex placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I understand, but I promise you, I'm telling the truth, Echo is alive, and I'm going to bring him home, I'm going to bring him back to you", he said, with so much conviction that you almost believed him, almost.

"Don't make promises you can't keep", you told him despondently.

He looked you in the eye, a determined expression on his face. "I intend to keep this one", he said, and he did.

No more than two days later, the team sent on the rescue mission to Skako Minor returned, with Echo.

You couldn't believe your eyes when Rex took you to see him in the med bay. He was different, that was for sure, but he was still Echo, he was still the man you loved, and you were just glad he was home.

And Baby you're all that I want,

When you're lying here in my arms,

I'm finding it hard to believe,

We're in heaven.

During his first mission, after being back, he had proven to still be the loyal soldier he had always been and had unofficially been dubbed the "Hero of Anaxes" for his brave actions.

After this mission he had also been extended the invitation to join The Bad Batch by their sergeant, which he wanted to accept, but not if it meant leaving you behind. So, Echo convinced the commandos that having a mechanic around wouldn't be such a bad idea, and they agreed.

That's how you ended up here, the mechanic onboard the Havoc Marauder, who was currently being held in the arms of the person she loved most in this galaxy, swaying to the soft music filling the air around them, in total bliss.

Love is all that I need,

And I found it there in your heart.

It isn't too hard to see,

We're in heaven.

Your head had been resting against Echo's chest, as you listened to the steady heartbeat beneath it. You never wanted this moment to end, and by the way he was holding you, without any indication of ever letting go, you were pretty sure he felt the same.

You lifted your head to look up at him, while keeping yourself flush against him, needing the contact to silently remind yourself that he was still here, he was with you. Something you still had a hard time believing from time to time, but it was real, he was here, and you were never letting go.

It had been some time since Anaxes, not a tremendous amount, but enough time where you could see a noticeable change in your boyfriend's appearance. He had filled out more and looked a lot less gaunt than he had initially upon his return. His color had improved as well, not fully, but with enough time, you were sure, he'd regain his copper glow. His hair was the other noticeable change, it had started to grow out again, and while it hadn't gotten to the length it was, there was enough where you could easily run your fingers through it, as you often did, absentmindedly.

This thought caused your hand to move of its own accord and slot itself amongst the short curls adorning his head. He gave a contented sigh as you started mindlessly running your fingers over his scalp, scratching lightly, and he leaned into your touch as his eyes closed, this always relaxed him.

After a moment, he opened his eyes to look at you, a soft smile taking shape over his features, before lowering his head to rest it against yours, both of you shutting your eyes to revel in the moment.

We're in heaven.

The music faded and soon the room fell silent. You both ceased your swaying but continued to stay in the embrace.

After what felt like an eternity, but had only been a few seconds, you broke the silence and said, "I love you Echo."

He smiled and replied, "I love you (Y/N). Always and forever."

You gave a smile of your own, the words bringing you back to those early days of your relationship, when anything was possible, and your future was bright. It could be that way again, now that you were together again, nothing was impossible.

"Always and forever", you echoed back.

With that, he closed the small gap between you and brought you into a passionate kiss.

Everything that had gone unspoken was expressed in this kiss; all the love and adoration that had built between you two over the years, all the pain that you both endured during your separation, all the missed time, and the promise that you would never be parted again, and that you would continue to strive for the future you two had planned so long ago. You were happier than you'd ever been and nothing could ruin this moment.

Suddenly, as if the universe itself wanted to prove you wrong, the door slid open and in walked all four commandos, with Wrecker in the lead.

"See, I told ya we'd find them doin' some sappy stuff", Wrecker said in his booming voice, effectively breaking your quiet moment, and your kiss, which in turn, pissed you off.

You both gave an annoyed sigh before turning to face the men. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave your best scowl in their direction, which only caused Wrecker to laugh. He'd so be getting an ass kicking later.

"Let's just be glad we didn't walk in on something... more intimate", Crosshair said, eyeing the both of you while giving a sly grin.

You let out an annoyed huff. "Yeah, you wish", you retorted, which only earned you a chuckle from the sniper. Okay, add another one to the "people who need an ass kicking" list. "I think you're both just jealous", you said, trying to make it sound snarky.

"Of this guy", Wrecker asked as he walked over, clapping his hand down on Echo's shoulder. "Damn straight, I mean, he’s got a bombshell for a girlfriend, how could we not be, he's one lucky bastard", he said, although you couldn't quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Either way it ticked you off, but before you could throw the punch you had geared up for, Echo pulled you to him, holding you securely against him and effectively blocking your way to the giant commando.

"Easy cyare, no need for bloodshed, and besides, he has a point", he said, leaning in and lowering his voice, "I am a very lucky man."

You shook your head at him but couldn't help the grin that formed at his words.

"Okay, that's enough boys, let's give the happy couple some privacy shall we. Besides, Wrecker, it's your turn to make dinner", Hunter interrupted, giving his brother a stern look.

"Oh man, again, I thought I just did that", Wrecker grumbled.

"You did, when it was your turn last week", Tech told him matter-of-factly.

Wrecker made a noise of aggravation before leaving the room, mumbling incoherently in displeasure. The other two followed him out, as you gave Hunter a thankful smile before he nodded and made his exit, letting the door slide shut behind him.

You turned back to Echo, who still had you in his embrace.

"So, where were we", you inquired, a soft smile back on your face.

He feigned ponderment. "Hmm, I believe we were right about...", he began, and suddenly pulled you close enough that your noses were touching, "Here", he finished, his smile widening before bringing you in for another heated kiss. You melted into it and fell into another state of bliss.

You stayed like that for another long moment, as the world faded around you. Wrapped in a loving embrace, engaged in an impassioned kiss, and lost in your own personal heaven.

undefined

[theimperfectwomen]

Content warning: Religious trauma, eating disorder, drug use, verbal abuse, body dysmorphia

I don’t remember ever feeling confident in my body. I never liked myself growing up.

Negative self-talk was second nature for me. Growing up didn’t make it any easier. We got judged for simply existing. I judged myself enough and didn’t need any other reassurance. My family was not the best when it comes to body positivity. Body-shaming was so engraved in their brains; they never noticed the damage they were doing. Years and years of small comments about my body, weight, how much or how little I would eat --  this eventually led to deep-rooted insecurities.

I did eventually end up with an eating disorder -- anorexia. Ninth grade was when it really went full throttle. My close friends noticed my drastic change, [like] conveniently never being hungry around lunch time. I began wearing less form-fitting clothes, sticking specifically to a pullover and black pants that hid the true size of my legs. Having a school uniform made that easy. My negative self-talk seemed so normal to me. It felt like it was all I really knew. With that being said, the eating disorder took a stronger hold on me.

I’m not going to lie and say that my relationship with my body is any better than it was when I was in ninth grade. I struggle everyday with poor body-image. I don't see myself the way others see me. I have body dysmorphia so my view of myself is definitely altered. Most days, I hide behind baggy clothes that are too big. Somedays, the dysmorphia settles down enough for me to show off more skin.

I’m not sure I can say I do anything with the intent of taking care of myself. It’s extremely hard to picture me deserving anything good. I definitely struggle with accepting compliments. I always assume the other person is joking or pitying me in some way. I am working on trying to accept that others can see beauty in me that seems to miss my eyes only. I have a very tainted mind that feeds off of my self-hate. I use drugs to help, but the line between self-care and self-destruction is often blurred by the feelings of emptiness. And I realize I should be able to step back and be mindful that my value of myself was created by deceptive thoughts and verbally abusive family members.

I [do] love my sense of fashion and love for channeling and incorporating different aesthetics. I'm confident in my creative mind. And although I might not be happy with every outcome I create, I find [solace] in the fact that something living inside me wants to create amazing things and live a life I've so often deprived myself of.

-

All bodies are beautiful. Everyone holds beauty. The world doesn’t get to define your worth or your beauty. Society was set up to suppress confident women. We are the most exquisite beings to exist. We are the nurturers and creators of life. I love women, so I can be biased, but the world wouldn’t exist without us. Our bodies, minds, and souls are so beyond powerful. It should be a disgrace to ever attempt to change a woman's sense of self-worth.

[To my body,] I’m sorry that I take my self-hate out on you. I know we’ve been through a lot, and I know we’re still fighting. I hope the hurt I’ve caused us both will be forgiven. Woman [NO. 004], age 22.

/////

Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

[bulkyphrase]

Everybody & the Avengers Team

I've got a new fic rec list for you!

The stories in the "X & the Avengers Team" tags focus on one person's relationship to the Avengers team as a whole. Courtesy of AO3's tag browse and Excel, here's a ranked list of the top 20 most popular pairings:

Tony Stark | 2470 total, 240 OTP

Peter Parker | 2255 total, 85 OTP

Steve Rogers | 602 total, 56 OTP

Loki | 387 total, 26 OTP

Natasha Romanov | 308 total, 35 OTP

Clint Barton | 268 total, 46 OTP

Bruce Banner | 244 total, 15 OTP

Thor | 209 total, 7 OTP

Avengers Team | 174 total, 24 OTP

James "Bucky" Barnes | 156 total, 7 OTP

Wanda Maximoff | 143 total, 4 OTP

Phil Coulson | 105 total, 9 OTP

Darcy Lewis | 91 total, 6 OTP

Matt Murdock | 60 total, 8 OTP

Sam Wilson | 53 total, 5 OTP

Nick Fury | 41 total, 5 OTP

Harry Potter | 40 total, 0 OTP

Pepper Potts | 31 total, 1 OTP

Vision | 29 total, 2 OTP

Stiles Stilinski | 25 total, 0 OTP

In chart form, if you like charts:

Notes:

The numbers after the names are the number of stories tagged with that ship. OTP means the number of stories where that is the only relationship tagged on the story. Numbers are accurate as of July 2021.

Story Recommendations

For your reading pleasure, included below is at least one fic rec for each pairing except the crossovers from non-Marvel fandoms (apologies to Mr. Potter & Mr. Stilinski). Most are gen fic, and even in the ones with a romantic pairing, romance is not the focus.

Tony Stark

As Subtle As Cognitive Recalibration by petroltogo (Teen, 8949) tumblr: @tonystarktogo

Standing inside his penthouse, listening to Rogers, Barton and Banner explain to Fury how they just happened to stumble over the Tesseract on a routine security check of Stark Tower’s roof and wouldn’t you know, they’ve managed to fight off the looming alien invasion before it could really start and secure the missing overpowered nightlight is one of the most surreal situations Tony has ever had the displeasure of experiencing.

Peter Parker

the worst field trip ever by shrill_fangirl_screaming (Teen, 3420) tumblr: @i-am-having-an-emotion

"We're on a field trip," Peter said. "To here. And Tony decided to be our tour guide and absolutely embarrass me, so can you please help get him under control?"

Which is how Peter Parker, architect of his own destruction, ended up with not one but two superhero pseudo-dads being annoying on his school field trip.

Steve Rogers

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't) by GalaxyThreads (Teen, 11022) tumblr: @galaxythreads

That seems about right. He doesn't know how he knows that, though. He does have vague memories of an annoyed fondness at finding peanut butter in some sort of jam. Thor's doing, because he doesn't see the point of using two knives when one works just as fine. He knows that. How does he know that? He knows all those little details, though, almost innately. How can he know these strangers so deeply?

Everyone else below the cut!

Loki

Proprietary by TheThirdMarauder (Teen, 7639)

No, Loki simply wants the Avengers conquered. The details of whom, how, and when matter not. Unless, of course, said details interfere with Loki's plans. Then, well, then none can fault him for protecting his own interests.

Loki has always been exceptionally good at lying to himself.

Natasha Romanov

What Girls Are Made Of by enigma731 (Teen, 4613) tumblr: @enigma731

She rolls her eyes but does as he’s indicated, using his shoulders to leverage herself up onto his back, her arms around his neck and her legs hugging his waist.

“You know,” he says blithely, “this isn’t really what I tend to picture when I think of a hot girl riding me.”

Natasha groans, deciding that if his sense of humor gets them arrested, she’ll kill him herself. “Just go.”

Clint Barton

Dear Clint Barton (circa age 7) by pollyrepeat (Teen, 4221)

With a normal person, this might count as blackmail material, but a) this is a case of mutually assured destruction if ever there was one, and b) Fury is immune to embarrassment. Not just in the regular, Tony Stark way, either, oh no. Things that could possibly end up being embarrassing to Fury get somehow warped and changed until they go from mortifying all the way over into useful and/or good for his image. It’s like a superpower.

Carrying Clint’s small child self around on his shoulders more than once has probably already hit the interagency rumour mill as an example of Fury’s innate awesomeness: good with rocket launchers and small children.

Also available as a podfic!

Bruce Banner

They're Not Wrong by Trumpeteer34 (Teen, 10163)

As Tony began to pace around the hole in the road to keep himself from shooting repulsors at the nearby buildings in a fit of rage, Thor began to study the nearby area. There was no sign of either the Hulk or Bruce Banner beyond the crater. The surrounding area, aside from the rubble of the fight, held no clue as to their friend’s location.

“Guys, he’s gone,” Tony growled into the communicator on their private line, drawing Thor out of his darkening thoughts. “Someone tranqed him and took him. He’s gone.”

Honorary mention goes to the Responsible Science series by @letteredlettered - the stories don’t have the "Avengers Team & Bruce Banner" tag, but they could, and they are amazing. The best Bruce Banner writing I've ever come across.

Thor

Fortunately, I Am Mighty by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 3062)

Steve was the first one to speak. “Are you okay?”

Thor nodded. Which was a bad idea, as it turned out, because now there were little gray lights flashing in front of his eyes. “I’m fine.” Absolutely everyone narrowed their eyes, and he added, “But, uh. Could we possibly not get back in the car just yet?”

Avengers Team

Civil Wasn't by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 7123)

"We're having an ideological conflict here," Tony stated with disbelief. "Are you telling me you still want to go out to dinner?"

"It's a standing engagement, Tony," Rhodey reminded him.

"Not you too—"

"We already had to reschedule from Friday when Natasha was..." Rhodey frowned. "What were you doing?"

The question was directed toward Natasha, who shrugged and said, "Spy stuff."

James "Bucky" Barnes

You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter (Not Rated, 4511) tumblr: @ifeelbetterer

“As you may have heard, Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. The Winter Soldier, recently rescued a tiny part-robot dinosaur during the Avengers’ battle with Dr. Doom in Antarctica,” the other newscaster explained. “Pictures of Barnes and the dinosaur were posted on twitter by fellow Avenger, Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye, and immediately made Barnes’s new pet America’s sweetheart.”

“Her name’s Muffy,” said Steve."

Wanda Maximoff

and the woman was young again by Mira_Jade (General, 3669)

Tony Stark called them the Cap's Kooky Quintet, and sometimes the term amused her – causing her to lift a sardonic brow where someday a smile would truly smile. She enjoyed the presence of comrades – true comrades – and she enjoyed the way their minds wove and bound together about each other to fluctuate against her senses as one. There was something soothing about being in their midst, and even when their loud and brash ways – their painful Americaness - rubbed her raw and drained on her, it was ever the knitting of their minds that soothed those moments over, and made them inconsequential.

Phil Coulson

Coulson's First Day of School by storiesfortravellers (Teen, 3055)

Coulson looked up at him. “I like drawing pictures with Mr. Rogers. I like having tea parties with Ms. Potts. I like it when Dr. Banner reads me books, and I like it when Natasha teaches me things. And I like when you play with me. You do really good voices when we play action figures. And you’re the only one who lets me do stuff like jump off the high diving board at the pool or eat three cupcakes or play tackle with kids at the park.”

Clint didn’t realize that. He was pretty sure that meant that he was doing something wrong.

Darcy Lewis

Beginner Yoga for Dummies (Darcys) and Sad Hobos by chailover (Teen, 3434)

Darcy had a theory: crazy attracted crazy, working kind of like gravity. It was pretty much her explanation for her life after Thor. And if she had thought the type of crazy Thor attracted was bad, be it Loki or the Warrior Three and Sif, or the dark elves and the Convergence, it was still nothing against what the Avengers manage en masse.

Matt Murdock

Double Blind by smilebackwards (Teen, 2381) tumblr: @smilebackwards

Stark snaps his fingers. “You can’t see half of my inventions. This explains so much about you and why you’ve never been properly impressed by me.”

“Does it?” Matt says, ambiguously.

Sam Wilson

Bystander by scribblemetimbers (Teen, 52029)

“I just want you to know,” Sam says loudly, cautiously raising his hands, “That I’m very poor and very sleep-deprived and literally the only thing you can kill me for right now are my notes.” He pauses. Wait. On second thought: “Please don’t steal my notes.”

“I’m not—I’m not a mugger,” Not Mugger rasps out, and for all that he looks about to keel over and die, the man actually manages to sound offended.

Nick Fury

Bedtime Story by dixiehellcat (Teen, 2532) tumblr: @deehellcat

Fury snorted. “I have to check in with the duty officer. I’ll be back in, let’s say twenty minutes. I expect all of you to have whatever your pre-bedtime routines are completed, and be in here pajama’ed and ready to be read to.”

He tapped the book under his arm, then left with the usual dramatic swish of his long coat. Bruce scratched his head. “Did…he just say be ready to be read to?”

Pepper Potts

Pepper and the Avengers (Which She Knows Nothing About) by rebelmeg (General, 6696) tumblr: @rebelmeg

The Avengers, that mismatched group of hurt and heroism, was one of the most important things in Tony Stark’s life. So, naturally, Pepper had made them an important part of her life too.

Vision

039. Intoxicated by aimmyarrowshigh (Teen, 100) tumblr: @aimmyarrowshigh

It might be nice to fit in, just this once. To lose a bit of composure.

Vision floated over to the refrigerator and, with some timidity, pulled off a magnet. He stuck it to his forehead.