#got super frustrated with this drawing earlier and had to take a full day away from it

[ravenxbones]

i let all that get to my head/i don’t care, i paint the town red

[happyselves]

Budapest { Lando Norris x reader one shot }

Breaking up sucks as it is, but to be dumped in an airport where you were going to a grand prix of formula 1 was worse … It was both of your dreams and he renounced it because of insecurities toward you. Admitting a “mistake” he had made with one of your commun friends, sleeping with her. You had to think fast in that airport, either you leave and go live one of your dreams or you step out of his place and go back home and cry for weeks. The answer was quickly found. You leave him and his baggage, not turning your back, deciding to not cry for the asshole you had spent so many time building a life he had destroyed in a snap of his fingers.

However the grand prix didn’t happen how you wanted it to. You had not really thought of him, too busy with the environment around you, sharing for your favorite drivers, freely wearing his merch that you had bought because you didn’t have any reason not to know that you didn’t have someone telling you off. Your now ex used to hate when you were showing your obsession and fascination toward the young driver that was Lando Norris. The dit driver had a great start but all his effort went in vain when the Mercedes driver hit the back of his car and ruined his race, forcing him to retire.

At first you didn’t know how to react, but when you saw him on the big screen in front of you, all the sadness and frustration and all the anger and hatred toward your ex boyfriend was transferred to this. You wanted to leave right away, but you stay, to support your team because Daniel Ricciardo was still in the race. You cheered as much as you could, exhausting yourself mentally and physically but it wasn’t enough and the number 3 car was too damaged to reach the point in the head. It was a shame, but that is the hard law of this sport. After this terrible race you had no heart in celebrating the win for Ocon even if you were extremely happy for him, so you went back to your hotel and went to bed.

The next day was quiet and you spent time in the city, you didn't feel great so you just walked through the city and visited stuff … alone. This time no crowd and loud car could distract you from your own thoughts. Your ex boyfriend was all you could think about now. The memories you had together, the dog, the apartment. By leaving and not facing it you were pushing the moment and you knew it will hurt even more next time you will have to face him.

It was the evening and it was getting cooler, you get your merch hoodie out of your bag and wear it. You find a nice spot on a bench in front of the river crossing the city and you put yourself in a cocoon, your legs closed to your chest and your head on your knees, hugging yourself for comfort as you watch the sunset. The tears came on their own, you were lost in your thoughts and you didn’t notice the man sitting next to you. You were so lost that you were now hearing Lando talking to you in your brain.

“You know it’s a pretty spot to watch the sunset, but not alone,” You puff a quick laugh, even your own mind was making stuff up and you didn’t know why, but you were ready to have a full conversation with yourself. At least your brain was nice enough to create someone that looked like your favorite driver. “ That’s funny, I’m that desperate that I’m talking to myself now, great, next stop the psy,” you weren’t waiting for any response, but you got one anyway. “ Well maybe your brain isn’t making this up ?” Another sound came out of you, were you ready to have a full argument with your own self. “ It wouldn’t be the first time I’m daydreaming about a handsome man talking to me out of nowhere, but I know my luck, why do you think I got dumped just before going on vacation ? I’m nothing … “ You were resigned, the tears kept falling and the pain kept coming. “ Well then he is an idiot, to let a beautiful woman, with great taste may I have, go. This man is obviously blind.” You had a great imagination to be able to hear Lando’s voice so clearly in your head that it felt like he was just next to you.

You turn your head toward what you thought the voice was coming from and there he was, sitting next to you, looking at you with fondness. Damn you really needed help if even your blurry eyes by the wet tears could recreate his whole body and face in front of you.

At any point you thought it might be true even if you were both in the same city, the odds were too big and he would probably be in his hotel room by now enjoying some games with his mates on his computer or watching netflix.

“ That’s not fair that you create this for me, I do not deserve to have such a beautiful daydream like this, seeing him this weekend from afar was one thing but to now trick me and build this masquerade in my mind to ease my pain, that’s really new brain.” You were feeling crazy and you were trying not to sound like one, you were talking to yourself and you were scared that others will think of you as someone with less sanitary than an average human being.

Yet, your fake Lando get closer to you and start touching your arm, you didn’t even flinch when you sense his touch, you know you wouldn’t be able to feel anything because if one thing you learn is that touching isn’t a sense the brain is capable of reproduction to the perfection in your brain when you are dreaming. Then why were you feeling it, why suddenly his touch felt so reassuring and real. You blind repeatedly trying to wake yourself from this sweet dream you were living because this couldn’t be real and it was starting to feel scary.

Lando didn’t move his arm from you even if you tried to gently push him away and put some distance back between you. You weren’t certain this wasn’t reality anymore because as you took his arm, you felt him, your grip on him was real. You lock your eyes on him, focusing on every detail of this creation in your own mind. You knew the shirt he was wearing and the shorts as well, you knew how he looks after running as well so that was a normal thing, but every little detail of him only a person being super close to him could imagine, that you had never experienced and yet here everything was here in front of you. He never felt so him and so real in the flesh. Your fingers found the scruff on his chin and felt the small hair tickling your palm.

That’s where you realise … Lando Norris was in front of you, in the flesh as real as you wear. You come back right back to your senses when you see the sunset and keep drawing beautiful colors in the sky. Lando was amused by the situation, you weren’t.

“ Oh sleeping beauty is coming back from the daydream ?” Somehow he arranges a lock of hair missing on your face, putting it behind your ear. You jerk at the touch now knowing that you were imagining things. You stand up quickly and try to avoid him, walking like a lunatic in front of the bench right to left. “ You know, you are the first fan I've met that acts like this, quite refreshing. “ You stop and track and look at him, really look at him.

“ How do you know I am a fan of yours ?” If this wasn’t the dumbest question you had ever asked, you didn’t know how to be more embarassing of yourself.

“ Well at first I wasn’t really sure, then I saw you on that bench, curl up in a small little ball wearing my hoodie merch, then you basically confirm it when you thought I was a pure product of your imagination,” You were hiding your face now, you bet your cheeks were red. You were mortified to ever have thought you were this desperate that your brain could be creating him, but even more when you knew he had to witness that.

“ I’m sincerely sorry, I ruined your evening run, “ You were apologizing to him, ready to take your bag and run away from this situation, to forget everything that happened. It wasn’t the best timing for you to meet one of your idols, that’s not how you had imagined things to go if one day you would have the courage to try and meet him.

As you tried to take your bag, he stopped you and took your arm. It was like the first, but this time all you could think about was the butterflies appearing in your stomach. Lando was the only person you could dump your boyfriend for … your ex-boyfriend. Before you had time to dive in your thoughts once more he spoke to you.

“ Please don’t go, I should be the one apologizing, I let you think you were insane because I was amused and you’ve made my day to be honest. I felt less alone. “ He was brutally honest suddenly and your heart shattered even more, making your recent break up put on the second plan, focusing on the man in front of you only.

It’s true that you didn’t notice at first, but he was looking tired, not only physically but mentaly. He brings you closer to him, silently asking you to sit where you were in the beginning.

You were both smiling to each other and without any of you being able to control it you end up talking a long time on that bench, not realising it was now dark. Only when Lando’s phone buzzed did you both realise that you had been exchanging your deepest secrets to each other, telling each other's life like you were best friends finding their way back to each other. You even forgot he was a famous racing driver at some point, not caring much because you were now truly seeing the man behind the helmet and you like him even more.

You sense a sort of sadness when he picks up his phone to respond to his manager. Of course they were worrying, he told them he was gone for half an hour, not three hours. You thought he would lie about where he was, being cheeky and keeping his privacy and you were ready to take that small hit behind your head that you bring you both back into your respective life, otherwise he surprised you once more by being honest and telling his manager the truth. He was smiling at you and his eyes were glued on your face with that same fondness you thought your brain had made up earlier. He hanged up and his body turn toward you.

“ So as you can guess I have to go, but I have the feeling that if I don’t ask to come with me, it would be one of the biggest mistakes of my life, so … “ He was scared to continue, evaluating the reaction on your face, but he must have seen something in you that confirmed something in him and made him continue, “ I’m not applying anything, it’s to talk obviously, but would you like to accompany me to my hotel and maybe see each other again ? I’m leaving wednesday night, of course you can refuse I wouldn’t take it bad”

Two choices were now in front of you and you could only choose one. The first one was obviously saying no and going back to England where you are from and facing the hard reality of your ex and the second one was to push your plane ticket to next wednesday and spend time with him. There was actually nothing to think about as you simply said yes to him and followed him to his hotel that night. You didn’t do anything, only talking and even meeting the whole team. You tried your best not to fangirl like a teenager but you couldn’t help yourself showing the admiration you had for everyone of them and they already knew with the hoodie you were wearing anyway. That night was one of the best in your life, you talk all night in his room and end up falling asleep on his chest. It is the first time since you’ve been alone that you finally find peace in your sleep and truly rest and somehow you felt it was the same for him. This is why he asks you to stick around with him, even for the Pirelli test. You were not only living your dream now, but you were living it with him and it was even better. You felt lucky and you were now wondering what would have happened if you had not gone to that place and kept those grand prix tickets. You could care less, Lando made you forget all the pain this ex of yours had afflicted you for the past week. You had fun and everyone was so welcoming and nice to you, explaining everything around the paddock, you even found yourself laughing with Daniel Ricciardo at some point during the day.

The looks you send to each other on the other hand were far from being only friendly, there were something more. Your body was acting on its own and he was so receptive to it. Everyone in the garage could sense something that both of you were ignoring, but they were polite enough not to make a word of it or tease the young driver for it. You were secretly thanking them to not make this moment awkward, you were already still thinking you were in a deep dream or coma, not wanting to wake up just yet.

The day went fast and ended up in a nice dinner in his room, still talking and joking. At some point it was the second night in a row you fell asleep on him, while watching something on tv. It really wasn’t your type to trust a stranger even if this one was famous and you “ knew him “. You didn’t want to live dangerously,but for sure that difficult time ahead of you was making you enjoy the best of life without thinking about the next day.

Lando was stroking you slowly as he was finishing the movie you were watching before you found Morphee, kissing your head before turning everything off and joining you in dreamland as well.

You were sure the people at your own hotel were wondering where you were,and when the next day you finally came back to it, Lando quickly behind you, you could swear you had seen a smirk flashing on the front desk woman’s face. You hadn’t expected the man next to you to find a way and arrange the plane ticket you had to take for going home, to be weirdly the same plane as him and the seat next to him. You both didn’t really want to come back to reality and go to your respecting mundane life just yet.

The last day was as good as the day before other than that bittersweet feeling you had depe down, not wanting to let this go just yet. You didn’t know how you could enjoy this little bit of life he had show you, you were already addicted to this lifestyle, to that travel, hotel and paddock life, this crazy life of him and most important you knew how fucked you were because you realise soon enough that you were already addicted to him quite simply.

Both of you were staying quiet about your soon departure from each other and until the last moment you didn’t aboard the subject, but every good dream had a end and it’s on that parking lot when you saw the whole team leaving one by one to find their car that you realise it was the end of his fairy tale. Lando had held your hand tight the whole time, you were ready to let it go and leave this mind forever when he decided otherwise and asked you where you were going tonight now that you weren’t with your boyfriend. You hadn’t thought of that of course you hadn’t, how can you think about this when this beautiful and genuine nice man in front of you had replaced as quickly as he came in your life all your thoughts. It’s like he knew right away and didn’t let you answer, your luggage was already in the lack of his car with him and you were both driving to his place. Every woman would be afraid, why weren’t you that was the question.

“ I’m not ready to let you go, I don’t want to, “ That what he said to you as he pull his car in front of his house before adding up, “ I don’t even think I will be able to let you go ever in the rest of my life, “ You didn’t know what to say to that, you were only focusing on him, only him and the only thing you could think about right now was the close that damn gap between you two and kiss him. So you did and it was even more beautiful that the fireworks on national day, the butterflies in your stomach were moving so much that you could feel yourself flying except you were still in this car with him, his hands in your hair, messing the already messy bun you had for travelling, savoring every bit of your lips for the first time, like it was the last. When you finally pull away from each other to catch your breath, your forehead finds him.

“ I’m not going anywhere. “

MASTERLIST

[milliedazzledust]

Viens, Embrasse moi (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request by @husherstan​: One Shot with Bucky Barnes in which he and the reader are spies. Idk if you watched The Man From Uncle - American and Russian spies together to get an intel. They hate each other and have all that sexual tension. Based on the song ,,Les Yeux Noirs" by Pomplamoose (I have no idea what the lyric says) where they dance to prove who is the best.

Words: 4.689 words

A/N: I spent the last couple of days listening to tango, Pomplamoose and the ost of tfatws, I guess I was inspired coz this is super long so be aware. Thank you for that request - I’m really self-conscious about my writing so I’ll hope you’ll it! (ps: the title mean “come and kiss me”)

The mission was simple. Get inside the mansion during a fancy party by some rich man, retrieve valuable informations about Hydra’s whereabouts and get the hell out of there. Steve had decided to pair Bucky and Y/N for this. Two spies with specific skillsets that he knew would get the job done. This is why they had landed in Paris earlier that day.

They had taken a hotel room inside the infamous Le Meurice, courtesy of Tony Stark. He thought it was hilarious to provoke them since he knew they didn’t particularly like each other. That was what everybody thought, except Natasha. She had told Y/N she could see right through their games. The frustration and the tension together were a ticking time bomb that would either lead to one of them dead or both of them in a bed.

They hadn’t talked to each other the whole flight, they were too busy studying the blueprints of the mansion they would infiltrate, rehearsing their role and getting into character to care about annoying one another.   Bucky had ditched the uniform for a white shirt and a black tie. His suit jacket slung over a chair next to the luxurious bathroom where Y/N was getting ready.

“What is taking you so long ?” Bucky complained as he sat on the bed, putting on his cuffs.

He heard the bathroom door opening behind him.

“Gotta look the part if we want to blend in” The woman smirked.

The moment he saw her, he froze. If there was an undeniable truth he would never lie about, it was her haunting beauty. She was breathtaking. She had chosen to wear a provocative dress that night, a dark shade of green falling of her shoulders, putting the tattoo on her back on full display. It was made of silk, so soft Bucky swore he could feel his fingertips aching to run through the material. The high-length skirt sat perfectly on her curves and the Sergeant gulped when his eyes trailed down her leg. The dress was slit to the middle of her thigh. He could almost see the knife strapped around her muscles, hidden just under the satin gown. His gaze finally stopped on her high heels, admiring the whole outfit. She looked feminine yet deadly and had a confident glow, a radiance he could feel across the room. She was captivating.

She sniggered, pleased by his reaction. Like a wolf hunting his prey, she walked up to him without hurry. He was still sitting on the bed, his eyes glued to her body, following her every move. His mouth was dry, no word were enough to describe how mesmerizing he thought she looked. Without breaking their gaze, she started to undo his tie. Making it roll agonizingly slow around his neck, she tossed it on the bed. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat when she opened up the first two buttons of his shirt.  

“That’s better” She whispered, adjusting his collar. He shivered when her fingers grazed his skin and tried to hide it with a cough, but she could see right through him.

“You look …”

“What ?” She coyly cut him, a hint of defiance in her voice. “Sexy ? Ravishing ? Yeah, I know”

She had a glint in her eyes he couldn’t miss. She was enjoying his bewilderment.

“Pick up your jaw off the floor, Barnes. We’ve got work to do”

And with one last cheeky smile, she was on her way out. He shook his head vigorously, swearing under his breath, before grabbing his jacket and following her to their rental car.

Nestled in the woodland, away from the noises of the city, was the mansion. It wall all concrete and tall glass windows. The architecture made it seem a few centuries old and Y/N stopped for a short moment to admire the gigantic house surrounded by trees.

“And here I thought nothing could impress you” Bucky joked as he noticed her interest.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, letting him lead her to the entrance. Before they could step inside the venue, a man in a grey suit stopped Bucky, putting a hand on his chest to prevent him from coming in. The Sergeant tensed, hoping he hadn’t been recognized. He had told Steve earlier that day that it might be a mistake to send him inside a place filled by Hydra agents. Even with the fresh haircut, somebody that knew the Winter Soldier could have easily recognized him.

“Votre invitation, Monsieur “ (your invite sir)

Bucky didn’t move an inch. He coldly starred back at the man, not understanding a single word of french.

“Il est avec moi” (he’s with me) Y/N quickly answered.

As soon as the man turned to look at her, his whole demeanor changed. With a smirk on his face, he eyes the woman up and down. By the way he licked his lips and he puffed his chest, she could easily guess he liked what he saw. She faintly heard Bucky grunt but ignored it. Seductively, she put a hand on the stranger’s shoulder and brought her face near to his.

“Pour être tout à fait honnête, il n’est pas de très bonne compagnie” (if i’m honest, he’s not very good company) She told him without a trace of an accent.

The man snickered.

“Puis-je demander le nom d’une si belle créature ?” (can I ask the name of such a beautiful creature?)

She smiled, pretending to be pleased to talk to him.

“Eléonore Charbonnier” She introduced herself with a name that wasn’t her own, faking shyness.

“Bienvenue, Madame Charbonnier. C’est un plaisir de vous avoir parmi nous ce soir” (Welcome, Miss Charbonnier. It’s a pleasure to have you tonight) He replied, bringing her hand to his lips before kissing it lightly.

She was playing with her hair, drawing his attention and Bucky didn’t like one bit to just stand there, silent, without a clue of what they were talking about.

“Tout le plaisir est pour moi” (The pleasure is all mine) She attractively responded with a lopsided grin.

She exchanged one last look with the french man and took a step inside. Bucky followed her closely, but not without one last threatening stare toward the stranger.

“That went smoothly” She congratulated herself.

“What ? You flirting with him or him eye-fucking you ?”

She laughed at his irritation.

“Such a potty mouth you have, Sergeant” She joked.

He responded with an unpleasing grunt before offering her his arm as they stepped into what seemed to be a ballroom. The place was enormous with a checkered floor contrasting with the golden walls. Crystal chandeliers spiraled down from the ceiling, illuminating the room while marble pillars surrounded it, carrying a large upstairs balcony. The place was already filled with wealthy people, all potentials investors for Hydra. Bucky glanced around the room, trying to spot the organization’s agents hiding among the guests.

“How are we going to get to the second floor ?” Y/N asked him discreetly.

“We mingle”

She raised an eyebrow.

“That’s your plan ?”

They were aware of the noises and the crowd but even more so of the curious stares in their direction.

“Alright” She shrugged. “Let’s dance”

“No” He quickly replied, which made her smile.

She turned to look at him and playfully tilted her head.

“No as in you can’t dance … or you don’t want to ?” She elatedly riposted.

“Both” He grunted, quickly glancing at anything but her.

He groaned when he saw how amused she was by the situation.

“My, my … and here I thought there was nothing Bucky Barnes couldn’t do”

He took a tentative step toward her, placing his metal hand on the small of her back. They were now inches apart and the attraction between them became a tangible thread in the air before any of them could speak a word.

“Now is not the time to play, doll” He muttered. She didn’t know if it was his tone, his proximity or his hand moving slightly lower, but she felt the premises of desire starting to form in the pit of her stomach.

“Steve should’ve paired me with Sam. At least he’s fun” She provocatively replied.

Her answer had an immediate response. He instantly stepped back, removing his hand from her body. She watched him closely, pleased when he pursed his lips with exasperation.

“You owe me a dance” She added and winked at him.

He gave her a dirty look and she chuckled before looking around the room, trying to think of something to get upstairs without being noticed.

“There’s literally one guard blocking the access” She stated seriously.

“Think you can distract him ?” Bucky asked.

“Consider it done.”

With one last glance, she moved to one of the waiter, grabbing a glass of champagne. Leaving Bucky behind, she took a sip of her beverage, seductively playing with her hair, swaying her hips until she was almost in front of her target. She knew he was already looking at her, she could feel his eyes on her body. Pretending to lose her balance right when he was next to her, she let him catch her in his arms.

“Oh my god ! I’m so sorry !” She apologized.

“Are you alright, Madame ?” He asked her with a thick accent.

“Yes, just a bit dizzy” She answered with an alluring chuckle.

She noticed his hands on her hips, she knew he didn’t let them there to keep her steady. When she looked up at him, she purposely bit her lips and placed a strategic hand on his arm. She saw the man gulp and smiled. It was working.

“You look …” He didn’t finish his sentence but instead put one of his hand way lower than it should have been. If it was anybody else, she would have break every fingers of that hand, but right now, it was exactly the reaction she was hoping for.

She glanced back at Bucky, who was fuming. The guard caught that and tried to turn his head to see what was distracting her, but before he could do that, she kissed him. Slowly, without an ounce of passion and with force she pressed her body against his. Her eyes stayed open, and she watched Bucky taking advantage of the situation by sneaking behind the french man and quickly getting upstairs. Once she was sure he was out of sight, she took a step back. She cleared her throat, smoothing her dress.

“I should go freshen up” She shyly told him, fluttering her lashes.

“There’s a bathroom upstairs” He offered.

She smirked. She knew her plan would work.

“Merci” (thank you) She told him with a fake accent.

She climbed the stairs, pretending to look for something, while the guard resume his position. Bucky was already waiting for her in the hallway, standing against a wall where no one could spot them.

“Did you have to kiss him ?” He inquired, infuriated, as she joined him.

“If I remember correctly, you told me to distract him”

“With your lips ?” He ironically continued.

She chuckled, her fingers fiddling with his jacket. She slowly leaned toward him, her red lips tentatively grazing his cheek.

“Careful, Barnes, one might think you’re jealous” She whispered against his ear.

He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t get jealous, doll”

She smirked, lowering her eyes on his lips.

“You keep telling yourself that”

“I’m just saying …” He kept talking as they walked to their destination. “Stop flirting with every man we come across”

“Is that an order, Sergeant ?” She knew she was on thin ice and she loved every minute of it.

He groaned. He was exasperated and she could see how much it drove him crazy. It had been that way for months now, they were always bickering, ready to bite each others head off.

Walking strategically through the corridor, they knew exactly where they were going. They had studied the place. Behind one of the doors was Hydra secret files on the super soldier serum and their experiment to create more Winter Soldier. The mission was to retrieve those informations to thwart their plan.

They had no trouble finding what they were looking for. From outside, what seemed to be an abandoned storage room was in fact a huge chamber with computer equipments and piles of files. For a second, Y/N thought it was unusual there was no one to guard the place before she silently followed Bucky inside. While he was looking through the papers, she took the flash drive she had hidden in her cleavage and plugged it into a computer. It was a malware designed by Stark to discreetly sneak inside their files, break every firewall and find their secret without leaving a trace.

“Anything interesting ?” She interrogated Bucky while Stark’s program was doing its magic.

He looked up from what he was reading and she visibly saw him gulp and shut the file he had in his hands.

“Nothing that I didn’t know of already”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“Why don’t I believe you ?” She accused him, backing up against a desk.

“Because you're a spy” He answered truthfully. “You don’t trust anyone but yourself”

She hummed.

“And that’s exactly why I know you’re hiding something” She continued, crossing her arms at his reluctancy.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. She could see his jaw tightening and his fists clenching. For some reason, he was getting angry at her. She tilted her head, curious at his reaction. Without a word, she raised an arm, opening her hand. It was a silent request to give her the file he was reading, which he eventually did.

She started to read and realized it wasn’t about the Winter Soldier initiative but about the Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and what had happened to him in details after he fell off a train in 1945. She didn’t go through the end of the first page and shut it before handling back to the man in front of her.

“You’re not reading it ?” He questioned.

“No. If you want to talk about it, you will.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t need to know the details of a procedure you’d rather forget”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her actions. He was expecting her to be more curious and try to prey informations out of him, but instead she just stood there and gave him an honest smile.

“Don’t look so flabbergasted, Barnes. I might be a spy but I’m not cruel”

“It’s just … I wasn’t expecting that”

“Expecting what ?” She asked, turning back to the computer.

“…To be given the choice not to talk about it”

She was shook by the force of his sincerity for a moment, but didn’t comment. It was rare for Bucky to share anything this personal with her. They had work quite a lot together, but it was always teasing and bickering. This was different. She could just guess it by the way he was looking back at her. He cared about her and valued her opinions and judging by his gaze, she had just given him a reason to trust her a little more. He suddenly cleared his throat, somehow embarrassed, and she grinned.

“All done” She declared, showing him the flash drive.

“Good. Let’s get out of here”

Just as he said it, an alarm started to ring inside the room. Both of them tensed, suddenly anxious.

“What is that ?” He groaned.

“They know we’re here”

“Shit”

She hid the flash drive in her cleavage before slowly backing against the wall next to their exit.

“So much for being invisible” She muttered under her breath.

Bucky half opened the door, picking outside to see what they would be up against. Armed men were already scattering the hallway, ready to launch the assault. He quickly closed it back, his expression now a mix between worry and annoyance.

“They’re at least six of them waiting for us” He informed her.

She secretly hoped they would avoid a situation like that but seeing as they had no other choice, she mentally prepared herself to give them hell. Bucky watched her with wide eyes when he saw her tearing her dress in half, making room to move freely.

“What the hell are you doing ?!”

“Mingling” She simply answered, repeating what he had told her earlier, before taking the knife attached to her thigh.

Bucky grabbed the handle and glanced back at Y/N one last time before the fight. They shared a knowing look, both of them reassuring the other with a silent nod. As soon as he opened the door, the gunshot started. The music and the people downstairs were a slight contrast to what was happening, the noises were loud enough to cover the sound of bullets shot across the room.

It wasn’t unfamiliar territory for Y/N or Bucky, they were used to fighting. Doing it together was different though. They had discovered they were a pretty good match on a battlefield. It almost felt like a quick pace tango, a choreography only they knew about. Bucky watched her smirk, and she saw him wink. They were about to give them a taste of their talent.

She let the Sergeant go first, knowing his brute force and especially his vibranium arm would most likely knock some of them out. One of them dodged her partner and went right to her. She blocked every of his punches and flipped the knife she had in her hand, stabbing the man in the gut. She rolled upside down, making him fall on the floor, unconscious. Another one tried to take advantage of the situation and decided to kick her. She twirled around, blocking him before hitting his chest with her heel, knocking him out of breath. From the corner of her eyes, she saw two of them going after Bucky. The agents would have had the time to attack, but all it took was a look between the Avengers and Y/N threw her blade at the Sergeant. He grabbed it mid-air and less than thirty seconds later, the men were on the ground, bleeding to death.

She started to make a movement toward her next target when she felt an arm wrapping around her waist. It all happened too fast. All she felt was the bullet touching her shoulder before her body was pushed against a wall and the men were out cold. Normally, she would have resisted but instinctively, she recognized the musky scent of Bucky’s colognes and the cold sensation of his metal hand against her hip. She realized he had shoved her out of the way when one of their opponents had fired, aiming directly at her.

“Are you alright ?” He whispered, making her shudder.

He was so close she could feel his heart beating. He was towering her, shielding her body with his own. The situation was quite ludicrous. They were surrounded by men they had just taken down but none of them seemed to care. She opened her mouth to demand that he release her, but the words never formed. His chest flushed against hers, he was slowly invading her senses. They were both exhausted by the effort, and his staggered breath was enough to send a fire coursing through her body. She risked a peek at his face and swallowed when she saw his blue eyes darkening with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t look at me like that” He spoke with such intensity she shivered.

She licked her dry lips before speaking.

“Like what ?” She teased.

Bending his head, he buried his nose in her neck. She struggled at the proximity, purely a reflex. He answered by pulling her even closer. He looked up at her again, his mouth hovering a few inches from hers. Every nerve ending inside her was screaming for his touch but she didn’t move, simply stared at him. She wasn’t going to kiss him, but there was still a strange satisfaction flowing around them, pleased that they were just as susceptible to the treacherous desire between them. She could see it in his dark crystal-blue eyes, in the thundering beat of his heart and his metal hand, possessively holding her, gently stroking her covered skin.

“You’re bleeding” He said after a while, his gaze falling on her wounded shoulder.

She didn’t even turn to assess the damage and kept her eyes focused on him.

“I’ve had worse” She told him, voice filled with need and desire.

“Y/N…” He warned her.

His human hand crept into her hair. He was inexplicably drawn to her, she was intoxicating. When he traced a path over her cheek with his thumb, she closed her eyes, savoring the moment.

“Fuck” He cursed under his breath.

He kissed her temple, the movement so gentle yet so significantly filled with unsaid feelings. They heard noises, more people coming their way, and just like that their frozen time was up. He took the piece of cloth she had torn apart and wrapped it around her bleeding shoulder quickly before grabbing her hand and leading her toward their escape route.

She followed him without protesting. He led her to a window and both of them jumped. The car wasn’t far and they sprinted to get to it. They could already hear the agents rushing, they had to hurry. Bucky glanced rapidly in Y/N’s direction, making sure she was alright. The blood had started to flow on her arm through her made up bandage of clothing. She simply nodded her head to reassure him. They drove in silence, checking every now and then that no one was following them. Apart from the altercation, the mission was a success. No one had recognized them and they had what they were looking for. Worn out and a bit dizzy from the loss of blood, Y/N let herself relax and yawned. Bucky felt himself breath a little better now that they were out of harm’s way and surprised himself when a smile spread across his face at the sleepy form of his partner.

Later that night, they safely got to their hotel room. Completely tired, Y/N let herself fall on the bed. She watched Bucky from the corner of her eyes heading to the bathroom. He came back with a few items and silently sat next to her. He unfastened the cloth around her arm without looking at her or asking her permission and opened a bottle of alcohol. When he poured it on her injury, she hissed. She tried to push back, a reflex to get away from the pain, but instantly stopped when she felt his cold hand keeping her in place. She glanced down at her shoulder and studied the wound.

“Doesn’t look too bad” She inspected.

“The bullet didn’t do any damage”

“Good” She sighed, falling back on the bed.

She watched him clean it then wrapped it up with gauze. He was methodic, every movements seemed rehearse, like he had done it many times before.

“Thank you, Bucky” She murmured.

She saw the corner of his mouth rising, forming a small grin he was trying to hide. Without a word, he stood up and started to walk around the room. Y/N observed him curiously, wondering what he was doing. She sat back against the headboard of the bed and followed his moves. He stopped next to the door and dimmed the light.

“What are you doing ?” She asked, half amused, half confused.

He held up a finger, silently telling her to wait. He took out his phone and suddenly music filled the room. He discarded his jacket, tossing it in a corner of the room, rolling up his sleeves. That simple action was enough to raise the temperature of her body. He was aware of her hungry gaze on his muscles, following his movement and didn’t miss the way she bit her lips. He slowly walked to the side of the bed, right next to her, raising his metal hand toward her.

“What is this ?” She interrogated him, her voice so small she wasn’t sure he heard.

“You said it yourself, I owe you a dance”

She starred back with doubtful eyes but took his hand nonetheless. He led her to the center of the room and began to slowly sway with her.

“La bohème” She recognized the song.

“You said you loved it”

“Didn’t think you’d remember”

“It might come as a shock, Agent Y/L/N, but I do pay attention” He flirtatiously sniggered.

Her breath caught in her throat when he pulled her closer and sneaked an arm around her waist. Spinning and circles and shuffling his feet to the rhythm, he made her laugh. He surprised himself thinking he wished he could carve that sound into his head and never forget it. They danced together, their body close, and she knew she must have been blushing. It only made his smile grew bigger. He stood looking down at her with a hint of danger in his eyes. There was so much more she saw in him than an experiment and a super soldier, but she would never admit that. For some reason, she wanted to find a flaw in him, something that would level the field between them. Until she realized that with him, all bets were off.

“I’m not sure I like that” She said, hating the note of anxiety in her voice.

“What ? Dancing ?”

“Us not being at each others throat” She sincerely answered. “But I’ll admit, you’re a pretty bad dancer”

She felt the rumble of his chuckle against her body.

“You can still fight me if you’re up for it” He replied, smirking down at her. She smacked his chest and he pretended to be hurt for a second. She rolled her eyes at his antics.

He made her twirl and she felt an adrenaline rush when he drew her close to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and made a movement to brush her hair away but his hand stopped hers. Instead he carefully laid it on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying about my dancing ?” He smirked as he made her spin once again.

“That you had no sense of rhythm” She joked.

He laughed and dropped his head, studying her.

“I like it” He confessed, an answer to what she had admitted earlier.

A surprising sense of comfort suddenly settled in her stomach at his admission.

“This stays between us, Barnes” She warned him.

“Is that a threat ?” He laughed.

“Exactly” She whispered, laying her head against his chest as they continued to move together, too lost in the music to halt. “One word to Steve and you’ll be on the wrong end of my knife”

She felt his smile when he lowered his head to kiss the naked skin on her uninjured shoulder.

“You have my word, Agent Y/L/N” He winked. “And just so you know, I’m a better dancer than you are”

“No you’re not”

“I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong”

“Is that your way of asking me out ?” She smugly smiled with a hint of seductiveness in her tone.

“Maybe… is it working ?”

“I still haven’t decided if I want to fight you yet”

He grinned, he couldn’t help himself but felt at ease around the dangerous woman. After a while, they stopped moving. Bucky felt her body relaxing and her weight getting more heavy as she started to fall asleep against him. He buried his nose in her hair, closing his eyes to enjoy their moment out of time. When he was certain the woman was asleep, he carried her to the bed. He made sure she was comfortable enough under the covers, taking extra precaution not to touch her wound. Then he sat next to her, already knowing the moment they would get back, he would go to Steve for advices. She would be mad, most likely with a newfound desire to kill him. They would probably fight, but strangely that perspective only made his smile. He was ready to wrestle if it meant they would both win in the end.

[sl-walker]

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again.  Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size.  So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats.  He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy.  But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model.  Maybe in another ten years, kiddo.  Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no.  LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it.  As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point.  I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it.  He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that.  I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam!  He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked.  College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character.  Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there.  Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand.  Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts-  He’s locked in.  Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can.  Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue.  It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that.  You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes.  Except, not his underwear.  Because that’s nasty.  LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff.  Go incognito.  Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after.  Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to.  It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD  I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that!  Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity.  The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there.  But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid.  It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot.  You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is.  How complete it is.  How genuinely funny it is.  It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero.  LOL!  I enjoyed sharing it with you.

[gingersnapwolves]

The Untamed, a brief summary [part 6/6]

Part One: Sword Wizard School

Part Two:  The Search for the Yin Iron and the World’s Worst Summer Camp

Part Three: The Fall of Lotus Pier and the Sunshot Campaign

Part Four: The Downward Spiral

Part Five: Mo Manor, Hungry Sabers, and Yi City

Part Six: The Hidden Room, Burial Mounds Redux, and Guanyin Temple

Ext, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and Lan Xichen roll up to Koi Tower. Jiang Cheng is already there and decides to make it awkward for everyone by asking the Lans to introduce the masked Wei Wuxian, even though a) he knows or is at least pretty damn sure it’s Wei Wuxian, b) he knows that they know it’s Wei Wuxian, and c) he doesn’t know if they know that he knows. Thanks for making me type that sentence, Jiang Cheng.

ENTER A WOMAN WHO SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN A BETTER PRE-NUP

Jin Guangyao comes out. He still has a great smile and he and Lan Xichen are still cute together. But it gets really awkward because, if you’ll remember (and I don’t blame you if you don’t), Wei Wuxian is pretending to be Mo Xuanyu, who is Jin Guangyao’s half-brother who got thrown out of Koi Tower for bad behavior. How bad? Well, apparently Mo Xuanyu had a habit of harassing Jin Guangyao’s wife, Qin Su. Whoops.

Of course, it’s difficult to say whether or not Mo Xuanyu actually did this, since all we have to go on is what people say about him, and ‘maybe don’t believe every rumor you hear’ is like the main thesis of this show.

 Int, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Nie Huaisang shows up too, and throws himself at Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen because “the old problems are solved, but new problems have arrived!” He is a drunk mess and it’s a little embarrassing for everyone.

 Ext, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Jin Ling is being bullied. Wei Wuxian tells him that he should beat the bullies up, because once you’re an adult you can’t just beat people up anymore and it sucks. He teaches Jin Ling some moves and they have some nice nephew-uncle bonding time, even if Wei Wuxian is pretending to be a different uncle from the one he actually is.

 Int, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Wei Wuxian uses a little paper man talisman spell to sneak into Jin Guangyao’s rooms. His wife is there and she’s upset about a letter she got. Jin Guangyao comes in and they argue about it. She keeps asking if what’s in it is true, and what happened to their son. He keeps asking her who wrote the letter and saying whoever it was only trying to upset her. When she won’t back down or answer his question, he burns the letter and then puts some sort of trance spell on her. Then he takes her into a hidden room behind a mirror.

The room is full of all sorts of treasure, including Wei Wuxian’s old sword, and more important, Nie Mingjue’s head. Yeah, just his head, with blinders over its eyes and everything. It’s weird. Wei Wuxian does a spell called Empathy to communicate with the dead guy.

  Int, Nie Mingjue’s mind [currently Lanling]

We see flashbacks to him first meeting and promoting Meng Yao, who was getting bullied by the other soldiers, then to the day he exiled Meng Yao (with slight differences from the way it was presented earlier because unreliable narration is fun). We see them argue a few times over the years, then see Jin Guangyao playing music for Nie Mingjue (ostensibly to keep him from qi deviation). They get into a big fight, Nie Mingjue throws Jin Guangyao down the steps of Koi Tower, but then his brain basically explodes. Jin Guangyao looks pretty satisfied with how things are turning out but then Nie Huaisang runs up, shouting for his brother, and Jin Guangyao switches to looking super worried instead. He keeps Nie Huaisang from running to his brother, saying he won’t recognize him. Then Nie Mingjue is held down in the treasure room we’re currently in, still alive and fighting qi deviation, and Jin Guangyao tells Xue Yang to kill him (with Baxia, which Xue Yang is holding), which he does.

  Int, the hidden room [Lanling]

Wei Wuxian separates his mind from Nie Mingjue’s and says ‘well that was fucked up’.

Jin Guangyao notices the little paper man and starts trying to catch it, or stab it. Wei Wuxian manages to use the paper man to manipulate his own former sword, which is very cool, and get away.

Jin Guangyao is like ‘gee, who could that have been, using Wei Wuxian’s paper man talisman to wield Wei Wuxian’s sword?’

  Int, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji about all the fucked up stuff he just witnessed. They go to force their way into the hidden chamber. Lan Xichen catches up with them on the way. A bunch of Jin disciples try to stop them, including Jin Ling. Lan Xichen asks Jin Guangyao to let them in if he has nothing to hide. Jin Guangyao tries to demur, but Lan Xichen insists. With so many witnesses, he’s left with no choice.

  Int, the hidden room [Lanling]

Nie Mingjue’s head is gone, but Qin Su is still there. Wei Wuxian goes over to try to talk to her, and Su She (remember this guy? Betrayed the Lan sect way back when, made friends with Jin Guangyao afterwards) says that ‘Mo Xuanyu’ just wanted to harass Qin Su some more. While Jin Guangyao is showing off a knife that’s part of his treasure, Qin Su grabs it and uses it to kill herself.

Everyone is super fucked up about this. (Don’t forget, Jin Ling is there! This 16 year old is having a Time of it.) Lan Xichen is like ‘holy shit my best friend’s wife just killed herself in front of me’ and Wei Wuxian basically blue-screens trying to figure out if she did that to herself because of whatever was in the letter, or if Jin Guangyao somehow coerced her to do it with the trance spell. (Unclear! Draw what conclusions you will.)

Jin Guangyao, who is either really upset or the world’s best actor (or both) asks them why they demanded to come into the treasure hall and what the fuck is going on. People outside, who have heard the commotion, come running in, including Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng (who looks at Wei Wuxian like ‘I leave you alone for five fucking minutes and now there’s a dead woman’).

Lan Xichen explains about the sword spirit and the body in Yi City and how they were looking for Nie Mingjue’s head. Jin Guangyao asks ‘did you really think I had our sworn brother’s head in my treasure room?’ Lan Xichen looks at his best friend cradling his dead wife that yes, he was in fact about to accuse of such a thing, and looks like he’s going to be physically ill. (Lan Wangji, however, is staring Jin Guangyao down like ‘listen up you lying asshole’ and Wei Wuxian is just impressed he’s found someone who’s even more shameless about crime than he is.)

Jin Guangyao takes the opportunity to blame ‘Mo Xuanyu’ for everything. He pulls his sword on Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji steps between them. Wei Wuxian tries to de-escalate things but it doesn’t work for shit because Su She attacks him, and he grabs his old sword off the display to protect himself. This is a Big Deal because the sword sealed itself when he died, so nobody except Wei Wuxian would be able to draw it. Oops. (Wei Wuxian has a sad moment with his sword for being so loyal, even though he was unable to use it for years before his death, since he had no golden core.) Then they run outside because fuck this shit.

  Ext, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Jin Guangyao reassures Jin Ling that it’s not his fault he got tricked by Wei Wuxian, because Wei Wuxian is so evil and everything. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji try to get away but get surrounded. Jin Guangyao again calls Wei Wuxian out on being Wei Wuxian, so he takes off his mask. Everyone acts shocked even though 90% of the characters already knew this.

The Jin cultivators surround him. Wei Wuxian pushes Lan Wangji away and says to tell them that he didn’t know who Wei Wuxian was and that he was tricked by him. Lan Wangji refuses, immediately telling everyone he knew damn well that Wei Wuxian was Wei Wuxian and what the fuck are they gonna do about it? Wei Wuxian still tries to get him to leave, and Lan Wangji runs up to the line of what the Chinese censors will allow in terms of declarations of devotion between two men and plays gay chicken with it. He and Wei Wuxian smile at each other. Jin Guangyao has a ‘really? Right in front of my salad?’ look on his face.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji fight off the Jin guys but then Jin Ling stabs Wei Wuxian in the stomach. It sucks for everybody. Lan Wangji grabs him and they run away.

 Int, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

Lan Wangji has taken Wei Wuxian back here to heal. Lan Xichen is there, too, and says that it was with his permission. But he’s clearly pretty upset about what happened at Koi Tower, since he’s the one who forced Jin Guangyao to open the treasure room on Wei Wuxian’s word, and now he kind of looks like an asshole. He and Lan Wangji come as close to a fight as they’re capable of getting in. Lan Wangji thinks Lan Xichen should believe Wei Wuxian. Lan Xichen points out that he’s known Jin Guangyao for nearly 20 years at this point and he trusts him. Since neither of them saw Nie Mingjue’s head with their own eyes, they cannot know which of the two (Wei Wuxian or Jin Guangyao) is lying. It’s frustrating, but Lan Xichen has good reason to be wary, considering that witch hunts are what led to everything that happened to Wei Wuxian in the first place. In fact, Wei Wuxian is much less upset about it than Lan Wangji.

He tells Lan Xichen what he saw while using Empathy, and plays the Song of Clarity (the qi-deviation prevention music that Jin Guangyao was playing in the memories). Lan Xichen said he played it wrong and Wei Wuxian said he played it exactly as he heard it in the memory. They realize Jin Guangyao altered the song to cause qi deviation instead of prevent it. Lan Xichen still finds this pretty hard to believe, but he says he’ll test the version Wei Wuxian heard on himself and see what happens.

Lan Xichen walks Wei Wuxian back to where he’s been stashed, and Wei Wuxian takes the opportunity to ask him why Lan Wangji has so many whip scars. Lan Xichen explains that after Wei Wuxian died, Lan Wangji flipped his shit a bit and prevented all the other sects from sacking Wei Wuxian’s cave of neat stuff. It’s a bit vague but you get the impression he might have beaten up some important people. So Lan Qiren punished him with a whipping and three years of seclusion in the back hills of Cloud Recesses. Then they show him being beaten because sometimes this show’s continuity is not great.

(Lan Xichen is like ‘hey, you know my brother’s in love with you, right? I mean, only an idiot could not know that. But you really seem to be an idiot. Let me tell you a story about how our mother killed a guy and our father insisted on protecting her anyway. Please use your lone brain cell to connect the dots.’)

Lan Wangji comes back with booze for Wei Wuxian. They talk a bit about Lan Xichen, and Lan Wangji asks if they should tell him about the second flute. He talked to Wen Ning, who told him that he heard two flutes playing at Qiongqi Way. Wei Wuxian says he wanted to know at first, but now he’s not sure it matters. No matter what, people will always say he’s evil, but at least Lan Wangji still believes in him. He says to Lan Wangji ‘I’m sorry, and thank you’.

  Int, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

Jin Guangyao has turned up, and says he definitely believes Lan Xichen that Wei Wuxian isn’t there, but maybe they could take a look anyway, to reassure the other clans? Lan Xichen doesn’t even dignify it. Then Jin Guangyao says that they’re all going to band together and do a siege on the Burial Mounds because strange things have been happening there, fierce corpses are roaming, and obviously Wei Wuxian is there and up to no good. Obviously Lan Xichen knows that this is not true since Wei Wuxian has been convalescing at Cloud Recesses. He is fucked up by the fact that Jin Guangyao is lying straight to his face and he really can’t deny it. Jin Guangyao leaves, and Lan Xichen says he’s going to go to Koi Tower, while Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian plan to go to the Burial Mounds.

  Ext, some random cabin [somewhere]

They meet up with Mianmian. She’s got a husband and a daughter and is a badass rogue cultivator. There’s really no point to this scene but it’s nice to see that at least one female character got a happy ending.

Then they meet up with Wen Ning, who’s been trying to scare people away from the area so they don’t encounter the fierce corpses that Jin Guangyao has raised with the yin iron (to make people think Wei Wuxian was doing it). They head to the Burial Mounds together.

  Ext, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian and company find all the juniors tied up in the cave, and they say they were abducted but they’re not sure who was behind it. Then an absolute fuckton of cultivators show up, including Jiang Cheng, Lan Qiren, Su She, and Nie Huaisang (who says he’s just there to make up the numbers). They’re all shouting about how they want Wei Wuxian dead for all the crime he committed last time around. Jin Guangyao’s not there because ‘someone tried to assassinate him’ that morning, and Lan Xichen is tending to his injuries. Wei Wuxian looks extremely skeptical.

Then they get attacked by fierce corpses. The gathered cultivators realize that they’ve all had their spiritual power leached away by ill-gotten means. Ruh-roh! They all end up hiding in the cave.

  Int, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian sits everyone down for an Agatha Christie reveal. He deduces that Su She is the one who took away their spiritual power, by playing malicious music on their way up the mountain. Su She denies it but Wei Wuxian tricks him into revealing that his own power is still intact.

Su She ruins the protection seal and then uses the teleportation talisman and bounces. Wen Ning tries to fight off the horde with some help from the juniors, who still have their spiritual power, but there are too many. Wei Wuxian paints a lure flag on himself and uses himself as bait, with Lan Wangji killing the fierce corpses, so the others can escape. When he catches up, he half-collapses into Lan Sizhui’s arms and Lan Sizhui is really worried about him. It’s cute. Wen Ning looks at Lan Sizhui and realizes he’s actually Wen Yuan.

  Ext, some docks [Yunmeng]

They’re heading back to Lotus Pier to figure out what to do. Wen Ning comes over to talk to Lan Sizhui. The juniors are scared of him but decide he seems harmless enough, and he did just help them fight the horde, after all. He tells Lan Sizhui that he looks like a cousin of his.

The parents tell their kids to stop associating with evil, and the kids tell their parents to get a grip, and it’s beautiful.

  Ext, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Jiang Cheng won’t allow Wei Wuxian in, so he and Lan Wangji hang out on the steps. Wen Ning tells Lan Sizhui stories about the little boy that Wei Wuxian used to plant in the dirt.

  Int, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Some mysterious ladies show up. Jiang Cheng talks to them for a while and then gathers everybody together (although he still makes Wei Wuxian basically stand in the doorway).

Mysterious lady A is a prostitute who was there when Jin Guangshan died. Basically Jin Guangyao had his father fucked to death. It’s gross, although to be fair, couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. Then all the prostitutes except her were murdered. (Why she was spared is actually never explained in the show. It’s because she was friends with Jin Guangyao’s mother and was nice to him when he was a kid.)

Mysterious lady B is a maid who worked for Qin Su’s mother. She tells everyone that she wrote the letter to Qin Su, telling her that her mother had a secret. Qin Su is not the daughter of the man she always thought, but was actually conceived during an act of rape by Jin Guangshan. She and Jin Guangyao were half-siblings. It’s strongly implied (although never outright stated if I recall correctly) that their son had some developmental delays because of this and Jin Guangyao had him killed so nobody would find out. He then blamed his son’s death on a sect that was opposing him on some political stuff and wiped them out.

Everyone is Big Time Shook over all this news. They immediately begin calling for Jin Guangyao’s head.

Wei Wuxian is frankly disgusted. Because sure, he thinks Jin Guangyao’s evil and everything, but it’s sickening to him how quickly everyone turns against him, just based on a few rumors – so much like what happened to him. He wants to know where the ladies came from, and why they came forward after so much time has gone by. But in the end he acknowledges that the gathered cultivators being against Jin Guangyao helps him, and he can’t convince them of anything anyway, so whatever.

They go to the ancestral shrine so he can pay his respects to his parents. Jiang Cheng finds him there and picks a big fight. It’s really painful for everyone. After the first couple minutes, Wei Wuxian tries to leave but Jiang Cheng won’t let him go. Wei Wuxian ends up passing out. Lan Wangji tries to leave with him but Jiang Cheng is using the lightning whip to try to stop them.

Wen Ning shows up and he’s pissed. He tells Jiang Cheng the truth about his golden core, in basically the meanest way possible, directly targeting his insecurities with dead accuracy. It’s fucking brutal. Was Jiang Cheng being a dick? Yes. Did he deserve everything that Wen Ning said to him in this scene? Not really, given that it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know. (Does Wen Ning have a right to be pissed at Jiang Cheng on general principle because Jiang Cheng didn’t help him and his family back then? Now we’re getting into the reams of meta that are written about this show.)

Anyway, in telling Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji finally finds out, too. He’s clearly horrified to find out that Wei Wuxian went through something so awful and he didn’t even know. He picks Wei Wuxian up and they leave.

  Ext, a boat [Yunmeng]

Wen Ning gives Lan Wangji the details about the golden core swap. Lan Wangji looks like he wants to cry for an hour. I feel you, Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian wakes up and tells Lan Wangji not to be mad at Jiang Cheng, he’s just a jerk sometimes. He wants to pick lotus seeds but Lan Wangji reminds him that the lake they’re on belongs to someone and so the lotus seeds are private property. Then he picks some and gives them to Wei Wuxian anyway. It’s super romantic. Wen Ning pretends he’s not the world’s thirdest wheel.

  Ext, Yunping City [Yunmeng]

So while Wei Wuxian was in the hidden room, he saw a deed for a temple in this city. They figure it has to be important since it was in Jin Guangyao’s safe, so they go to check it out. It has a weird vibe.

  Ext, Guanyin Temple [Yunmeng]

Literally so much happens in this scene you guys. It’s almost 4 entire episodes long. Let me try to sum up as quickly as possible.

First of all, the show never actually bothers to explain why Jin Guangyao is even here. It’s actually because this is where his mother is buried (and he had the temple built just for that). He’s planning to go on the run because the jig is obviously up, and wants to bring her remains with him. He also wants to get one last date with Lan Xichen in, possibly apologize for ruining everything, et c. Lan Xichen was with him in Koi Tower, and Jin Guangyao tricked him and sealed his spiritual power, then carted him off to the temple. Romance!

Anyway Jin Guangyao doesn’t get that date because literally everybody in the damn story shows up. First Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, for obvious reasons. He has Lan Xichen as a hostage so it’s pretty easy to catch them. Then Jin Ling shows up. Then Su She shows up, which is less problematic since he’s a henchman, but he brought Nie Huaisang with him because he found him passed out in a gutter or something. Jin Guangyao can’t just kill Jin Ling and Nie Huaisang because he still has feelings I guess.

Then Jiang Cheng shows up! He makes a grand entrance and then promptly gets his ass kicked. This is partly because Jin Guangyao tells Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng found out about the golden core thing, which upsets him. Lan Xichen tells everybody not to let Jin Guangyao talk because he’ll manipulate you and get the better of you. Everyone proceeds to let Jin Guangyao talk for the next forty-five minutes.

At some point during all this they confirm that yes, Jin Guangyao sent Jin Zixuan to Qiongqi  Way to get him killed, and that Su She was his accomplice playing the evil music. Su She is also the one who cursed Jin Zixun. Jin Guangyao’s basically like “whatever, I said what I said”.

They finally get the coffin dug up, but instead of Jin Guangyao’s mother, Nie Mingjue’s body, complete with head, is inside. Jin Guangyao has no idea how he got there and he freaks out, which seems reasonable.

Wei Wuxian points out that while Jin Guangyao has been so impressed with himself and neatly manipulated everyone around him, someone has been pulling his strings as well. He points out the letter sent to Qin Su, the emergence of the mysterious ladies at Lotus Pier, the release of the sword spirit at Mo Manor, even his own resurrection. Jin Guangyao freaks out more.

At this point they’ve dicked around long enough for Lan Xichen’s spiritual power to come back. He puts his sword at Jin Guangyao’s throat. Jin Guangyao makes sad ‘you don’t like me anymore?’ eyes at Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen responds ‘dude, you killed, like, everybody’. Jin Guangyao admits that this is a fair rebuttal, but begs his forgiveness and pity anyway. Lan Xichen seems to forget that he literally just told everyone not to let Jin Guangyao talk because he’ll manipulate you.

Then Wen Ning shows up, and he’s been possessed by the sword spirit. He chops Jin Guangyao’s arm off. Ouch. Then he attacks Jin Ling, because the sword is just pissed off about everything, which seems fair. Wen Ning manages to fight off the possession and not kill Jin Ling, so good for him. Wei Wuxian gets the sword suppressed using his awesome mojo.

Lan Sizhui shows up at some point. I really don’t remember why the hell he’s there. Late night field trip?

Nie Huaisang screams that Su She attacked him, and his leg is bleeding. The sword springs right back to angry spiritude and murders Su She. Wei Wuxian is like “wtf I just put you to bed” and has to do it again.

Lan Xichen patches Nie Huaisang up. Everyone else sits around thinking about how truly fucked up the last 2 hours have been, especially Jin Ling, who is really having trouble with realizing one of his uncles was evil and not the one he thought. He is going through it. Meanwhile Jin Guangyao is kind of slumped against a pillar behind Lan Xichen because somehow he is not dead after losing an arm, which seems kind of whack when you consider what killed some of our other characters.

Then Nie Huaisang shouts, “behind you!” and Lan Xichen, assuming that Jin Guangyao is about to attack him, whips around and stabs him through the chest. Double ouch. Jin Guangyao is, understandably, upset at being run through. Nie Huaisang says he had a knife but Jin Guangyao calls bullshit (yes, while being run through, I don’t even know), saying even though he’s done tons of terrible things, he never once hurt Lan Xichen. Meanwhile Lan Xichen is having a complete mental breakdown, standing there with his sword in Jin Guangyao’s chest. Jin Guangyao realizes that Nie Huaisang is the one who orchestrated all this, in revenge after Jin Guangyao killed his brother. Also the angry spirits are back. A lot is happening. The temple starts to collapse. Jin Guangyao asks Lan Xichen to die with him, and it looks like Lan Xichen is going to do so, but then Jin Guangyao pushes him clear at the last second. Lan Wangji grabs him and gets him out of the temple before it collapses.

  Ext, Guanyin Temple [Yunmeng]

Everyone is injured and in various states of shell shock. A ton of people show up and start fussing. Wei Wuxian reveals that the last curse mark from Mo Xuanyu is gone, indicating that Jin Guangyao was the last person Mo Xuanyu was holding a grudge against. (Presumably for throwing him out of the Jin sect and back to his abusive family, which Jin Guangyao presumably did because Mo Xuanyu found out about Qin Su’s parentage, which presumably Nie Huaisang told him. I know, it’s a lot of presuming. I’m trying not to be biased and pass judgment lol.)

Lan Xichen asks Nie Huaisang if Jin Guangyao really had a knife. Nie Huaisang prevaricates rather than answering.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are leaving. Jin Ling asks Jiang Cheng if he doesn’t want to talk to Wei Wuxian before he leaves. Jiang Cheng says everyone is going back to where they belong. He flashes back to just after his parents were killed, when he vanished from the inn, and we see him realize Wei Wuxian was about to get caught and lure the soldiers away. All this time we thought he just wandered off and got captured like an asshole, but no, he was saving Wei Wuxian and never told anybody. In the present, he says ‘take care’ to himself as Wei Wuxian leaves. Five thousand ‘Yunmeng bros reconciliation’ fics spring into existence.

  Ext, the forest [presumably still Yunmeng]

Lan Sizhui approaches Wei Wuxian and tells him what little he’s remembered about his childhood, and that he’s realized his family name used to be Wen. Wei Wuxian realizes that he’s Wen Yuan, and that Lan Wangji saved him back then. It’s super touching and I happy cried, like, so much.

  Ext, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are standing around by the waterfall acting married. Lan Wangji is chief cultivator now. Wei Wuxian has finally figured out how Lan Wangji recognized him even though he was wearing a mask when they first met up again – it’s because the song he was playing is the same song that Lan Wangji sang to him in the cave of the murder turtle. Lan Wangji actually wrote that song just for him and has never played it for anybody else.

Nie Huaisang comes for a visit. Wei Wuxian asks him if he wants to be chief cultivator. Nie Huaisang tells them that no, he was really only in it for the revenge. It’s awkward, especially given all the morally questionable choices Nie Huaisang made while on his revenge quest and the fact that Lan Xichen is super fucked up about everything, but we all hope that they’ll eventually work it out. Or at least I hope that. Your mileage may vary.

  Ext, a mountain [the world]

Wei Wuxian goes off to wander for a little while. The show really makes us think that it’ll end with the two of them splitting up, but then at the very last second they meet again. We all collapse into sobbing, emotional heaps.

 ~end of part 6~

Characters/naming notes, as promised

I use the Mandarin for names and titles in fanfiction because it just reads better. Some of these don’t have an exact translation, so, the original is better, here are the basic terms you need to know:

Zongzhu = sect leader

Gongzi = young master

Furen = madam

Guniang = maiden/miss

Ge = older brother

Jie = older sister

Xiong = kind of like “bro” in a friendly sort of way

Da, Er, San = first, second, third – these are used in conjunction with the above, so “da-ge” is “oldest brother”, “Lan-er-gongzi” is “second young master Lan”

A- = an affectionate diminutive

Wei Wuxian (courtesy name)

Birth name: Wei Ying (only Lan Wangji calls him this)

Title: Yiling-laozu (used mostly in the second half of the show)

Also called: Wei-gongzi (by Lan Xichen, Wen Ning, and assorted others), Wei-xiong (by Nie Huaisang), A-Xian (by Jiang Yanli)

Lan Wangji (courtesy name)

Birth name: Lan Zhan (only Wei Wuxian calls him this)

Title: Hanguang-Jun (by the juniors and various others)

Also called: Lan-er-gongzi (by various characters)

Jiang Cheng (birth name)

Courtesy name: Jiang Wanyin (Lan Wangji calls him this)

Also called: Jiang-gongzi before he’s sect leader, Jiang-zongzhu afterwards, A-Cheng (by Jiang Yanli)

Jiang Yanli (only name given, not specific if birth or courtesy)

Also called: a-jie (by Jiang Cheng), shijie (by Wei Wuxian), Jiang-guniang (by pretty much everyone else)

Lan Xichen (courtesy name)

Birth name: Lan Huan, but nobody uses this

Title: Zewu-Jun (most people use this)

Also called: Lan-zongzhu (I think a few people use this instead of his title), xiongzhang (by Lan Wangji, this is a formal word for older brother), er-ge (by Jin Guangyao)

Wen Qing (only name given, birth)

Also called: Wen-guniang (by Jiang Cheng), jiejie or just jie (by Wen Ning)

Wen Ning (birth name)

Courtesy name: Wen Qionglin (used very rarely)

Title: Ghost General (never used to his face, I don’t think)

Also called: A-Ning (by Wen Qing)

Nie Huaisang (only name given, courtesy)

Also called: Nie-xiong (by Wei Wuxian), Nie-gongzi (by assorted others)

Nie Mingjue (only name given, courtesy)

Title: Chifeng-Zun (called this by many people)

Also called: Nie-zongzhu (by Meng Yao and others), Mingjue-xiong (by Lan Xichen), da-ge (by Nie Huaisang, then later by Lan Xichen and Meng Yao)

Jin Zixuan (only name given, courtesy)

Also called: Jin-gongzi (by most people)

Meng Yao (birth name)

Later in series, courtesy name: Jin Guangyao (used commonly)

Title: Lianfang-Zun (used occasionally)

Also called: A-Yao (by Lan Xichen), Xiandu (after he becomes Chief Cultivator), Jin-zongzhu at some point probably

Hoo boy all. That was a lot, huh? “I’ll write a brief summary,” she said. 20 thousand words later ... but this was as condensed as I could make it without it reading too disjointedly! So I hope you’ve all enjoyed and that this will help those of you who want to plunge into the fandom but didn’t have the time or the spoons for the show itself. 

If you have any questions about something that wasn’t clear or a part of the story you want more detail on, feel free to ask me anything!

Love y’all!

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Reviewing Adventure Time graphic novel: “Thunder Road”

 by Jeremy Sorese (Steven Universe comic writer) and Zachary Sterling (Adventure Time main comic artist)

Okay, so after purchasing and reading it today, I can safely say the DESCRIPTION of this graphic novel is ENTIRELY INCORRECT: 

Marceline starts feeling restless and comes across a motorcycle gang of storm clouds. Taking this as a chance to try something new, Marceline sets off on the open road with her new friends but things take a turn when she realizes that the storm clouds might be taking things a bit too far when it comes to their pranks. Marceline has to make a choice, to join in and create a natural disaster bigger than Ooo has ever seen or to go back to her boring quiet life--luckily, the answer comes from an unexpected source who just happened to be trailing the clouds...for research, of course.

No, nonono. This doesn’t even remotely resemble what happens. 

Actually, there is still a motorcycle gang, but this isn’t really a book about Marceline - it’s mostly about a drama with Bubblegum, and how she ends up taking her frustration out on Marceline. It’s about some difficulties they have communicating with each other, too. 

The Candy Kingdom is being flooded by non-stop rain. Jake is acting as a giant canopy to try and protect the castle, but it’s not working, and everything is falling apart - candy people are getting seriously injured, and it seems this has been going on for weeks. Everybody is exhausted, and things are looking dire. This was an eerily familiar situation for me, living in the RCT, which got demolished by flooding last February before the Corona crisis, and which is still recovering.  They’re all working together to solve this crisis, and PB is glad to see Marceline caring about other people. Marceline flies up in the sky and discovers a motorcycle gang is making the clouds rain down. 

PB is entirely at her wits end, she yells at the motorcycle gang, gets bullied by them, and decides to challenge them to a race. If she wins, they leave. If they win, then they will drive all over the Candy Kingdom and destroy it. Bubblegum gets incredibly angry at herself for making such a reckless bet, when she’ll have to race in the goddamn sky, and she insists this problem is her fault, so she needs to solve it by herself.

Marceline gets fed up that PB wants to solve it by herself and is pushing her away, so as a ploy of reverse psychology she says, “Fine, I WON’T help”, and flies away to investigate the gang further.

Bubblegum thinks Marcie has fucked off and ditched them. Marceline hasn't actually given up on her - she tries to perform some secret reconnaissance, befriending the gang and sabotaging their bikes. Marceline returns bits of cloud to the kingdom as well, to a still-bitter PB who won’t thank her.  However, things turn for the worse when the biker gang discover the bikes were damaged, and they confront PB about the sabotage, with Marceline's life possibly on the line.

Thankfully, the gang let Marceline go. Bubblegum proper goes off on Marceline for not trusting her to be able to do things by herself, while Marceline says that she should have just accepted help in the first place. They have a falling out. Marceline is upset that PB keeps taking out her anger on her, and lashes out a bit, tells PB this is her fault so she’s on her own. 

Shenanigans ensue. After a tense and highly dangerous bike race, Bubblegum manages to scrape a victory - without Marceline’s help - due to electromagnetic shenanigans with her cloud bike’s fuel tank.

I don’t want to post images of the race, because it has some awesome moments that I want you to see for yourself in the novel. 

However, she realises she had accidentally cheated, and apologises to Marceline for taking everything out on her earlier - she says that it shouldn’t be that way, that she shouldn’t just get mad at Marceline whenever she’s stressed.   

She tells Marcie that she doesn't want to treat her like shit every time she has a bad day.

They have a motorbike race. PB forgets Marceline can fly, and drives off a cliff to save her. Marceline ends up saving PB. Lots of cute moments. 

It turns out, also, that PB has become a bit of a legend in the sky biker community. 

[EDIT: I just realised the jackets say “We Talked It Out”! They’re proud that they were able to have a conversation about their problems! Awwwww]

So, this comic seems to take place during season 6. Most likely between The Cooler and Hot Diggety Doom - when PB is still kind of hyper-aggro and overworked, but is trying to cool down, and when Marceline hasn’t learnt how to communicate properly with her.   At the same time, the stakes are high enough that it does make sense for the characters to behave in this way at ANY time after Sky Witch, provided it’s not after the series finale.    Finn, notably, still has his right arm. He doesn’t pick up a sword. If he did, I might have been able to directly tell where this fit in the show’s continuity.  

Anyway, it’s outstanding. Easily the best of the Adventure Time graphic novels I’ve read. What I loved is how tense the situation really felt, how the emotions the characters were feeling were extensions of what they would feel if this happened in the show. It didn’t feel out of character for PB to be breaking down and acting like a tool, or for Marceline to be secretive and indirect, and then lash out a bit when PB hurts her. It was an awesome character study on their relationship and how it could have its toxic moments.   The situation seemed genuinely dire. The biker gang were genuinely hateable and intimidating. The threat they made to the characters felt real, which is rare for this show. And the emotional moments hit me hard.  It works super well after watching Obsidian, wherein you saw PB in the past take her anger out on Marcie and how that contributed to their breakup. 

It also has Marcie and PB racing around on motorbikes, which is funny because that's what they did in Obsidian.

You can tell that Jeremy Sorese did work on SU comic stuff, because he does a good job at capturing those brief emotions, those epic moments, that SU did so well. This comic is also more dramatic than the usual AT flare. 

The art is okay. It is in graphic novel format, and it’s meant to look a lot like the show. It is nice and colourful. It is clean, and sells emotions perfectly fine. However, Zachary Sterling has historically had issues drawing the arms of the characters - he makes them look far too much like stiff bendy tubes, when they are more free-form and can bend at full right-angles in the show. I feel like he was trying to stay too on-model, and didn’t take his art to its full potential. Some panels are also recycled and slightly edited. 

8/10 - A good read for fans of PB and Marcy, a plot with convincing tension from the first page, with an interesting character study on how PB’s stress can cause her to hurt the people closest to her and she needs to manage that.  However, the description on the back of the book is entirely incorrect for no reason. Well worth the £11 I spent to get a paperback copy sent today. 

You can buy a copy on Amazon for same day delivery. You used to be able to buy a copy on Comixology, but for some reason, it’s been removed. 

[sneezefiction]

apple pie & ice cream

Kenma x Reader - Scenario

desc: gloomy days can always be brightened with sweet smells, cinnamon sugar, and a homemade apple pie from yours truly: Kenma Kozume

a/n: to the anon who requested this a little while ago... happy birthday, love!! i hope you’re okay that i switched things around a little bit & had Kenma make you something sweet instead <3</i>

warning: slight language

wc: 1580

---

Some days are longer than others.

You’ve never had a good explanation as to why, but there are at least some telltale signs.

Like when red lights seem endless, your favorite song doesn’t sound as pretty as it should, and you just can’t keep your tired eyes open. Even with a cozy mug of hot tea in hand or the gentle stream of sunlight filtering through your office’s window, the warmth on your fingertips and face simply refused to reach you on the inside.

It also doesn’t help that you were flipped off not once, but twice, by some shitty drivers when you clearly had the right of way.

So you determine that the faster you can get home to Kenma, the better you’ll feel.

You take every short-cut and any back road, impatiently awaiting the moment that you can kick off your uncomfortable shoes and step out of those constricting work clothes. To turn on the air-conditioning and crash into a couch that proves to be far more welcoming than the outside world. Even just a nice, long stretch would do your aching back and heavy arms some good.

But most of all, you long to sink into Kenmas chest and lazily breathe in the comforting smell of home that rested on his well-worn hoodies. To run your fingers through his silky, soft hair and make messy braids out of it while sighing heavily to relinquish the day's grip on your tight shoulders. You can’t wait to bother him until he sets aside his black and red headphones to kiss your forehead and pull you into a soul-catching hug.

Most crappy days call for extra love from your gamer-boyfriend… but today Kenma has really gone out of his way to shower you in sweetness. Literally.

You’d sent him an awfully lengthy text about the number of crazy drivers on the road, the dreary weather overhead, following it up with a recap of your teary-eyed breakdown in a fast food chain parking lot... and you topped it off with just how much you missed him.

So he did the one thing he knew could lift anyone’s spirits.

Kenma got to baking his world famous apple pie.

Countertops were covered in white and brown sugar, apple peels, and other various, scattered ingredients. A store-bought pie crust was preheating in the oven, because only God knows how long it would take for Kenma to learn how to make that from scratch. Spices plumed in delicate, little clouds throughout the kitchen. Everything was coming together beautifully.

Kenma mumbles to himself quietly, a little miffed that he’s missing his weekly streaming session...

But secretly, he’s been meaning to do this for you for a long time. 

He’s been dying to thank you for putting up with his incessant live shows and never-ending computer gameplay. For living with him in his rental house even though he could probably (definitely) afford something far more luxurious. And you deserved luxurious. You should be decked out in diamonds and fancy cashmere, lounging on a sofa atop some rooftop garden oasis that overlooks the entirety of Tokyo, and dancing the night away at clubs and galas.

But you chose him. 

Simple Kozume. 

A smaller-framed boy with a knack for video-games, patterns, and strategy. The one they jokingly called “pudding head” in high school. That kid who used to hide behind his own hair because the world around him was far more daunting than he thought he could handle.

Kenma would rather stay in and binge a series on netflix than spend a night out on the town. He invests himself in playing an overly-competitive tournament of Mario Kart with you over flying out for a highstakes game of poker in Vegas. He prefers nights surrounded in fairy lights when you collaborate on videos with him, throw popcorn at his long hair, and drink a bit too much just because you both compliment each other more when you’re a little tipsy.

You love all of this about him and you’ve reminded him time after time that you wouldn’t trade him for the world… yet Kenma is still determined to at least have this apple pie done by the time you get home.

But as luck would have it, you’re early.

The lock to the door clicks and twists as you slide it open with a few squeaks.

Your senses are instantly delighted by the blooming fragrance of cinnamon and nutmeg. An ambrosial wafting of warm apples and pastry dough permeates the airspace while the added ginger and lemon cut through the sweet scent.

As if the room had just handed over a fluffy blanket and set you in front of a crackly, wood-burning fire, you’re filled with that much needed comfort. 

You’re home. And it smells so damn good.

If heaven had a scent, this was it. And you might as well be wearing a halo and angel wings.

“Kozume…?” You call out, wondering if it was really your boyfriend in the kitchen creating that mouth-watering aroma. 

“...yes, y/n?” He replies slowly, trying to clean up the countertops, a little frustrated that the pie wasn’t finished in time for your arrival.

“Is that you? Or did Gordon Ramsey break into my house and take over my kitchen?” You giggle, waltzing into the kitchen, the stress of the day being alleviated immediately upon seeing those speculative, gold-speckled eyes.

His hands are in his hoodie pockets, but when your form turns corner into the kitchen and makes its way toward him, Kenma draws them out and sneaks his hands up to your cheeks, cupping them gently.

He leans in, his expression a tad quizzical and somewhat mysterious, and whispers…

“You’re an idiot sandwich.”

A laugh bubbles up and out, shaking your whole body as you wrap your arms around his frame. You’d seen him just this morning, but wow you’d missed him and his extensive knowledge of meme culture. Now Kenma has his arms draped around your waist, hands squeezing at your hips a little. Your flustered but smiley expression spurs on a soft chuckle, a gentle yet deep rumbling in his throat.

“I thought you’d be back a little bit later, but I’m glad you’re here.” He murmurs out, voice tired but so soothing to your ears.

“Mmm, I’m glad to be back… now are you gonna tell me what that magnificent smell is? Or should I open up the oven and check?” The cheeky tinge to your voice causes him to pull away from you for a moment to look you in the eye.

“If you want it to turn out well, I’d keep your pretty little hands away from the oven for the next few minutes.” Kenma quips.

You playfully stick out your tongue but then proceed to place a teasing peck between his eyes, making him crinkle his nose cutely.

“So, when you sent me those texts earlier, I might have accidentally made an apple pie.” Kenma admits, looking away.

“Accidentally?” A grin slowly spreads across your face, eyes glinting with humor.

“Yep. Accidentally.” He shrugs, “I found some ingredients and a pie dish and I just accidentally threw it all together. So yeah, how convenient is that?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. 

He’s really something else. And to think your day had previously been wrought with misery and disappointment.

“Mmm I don’t know, Kozume… it doesn’t sound like an accident to me. I think you did it because you wanted to be sweet.” You whisper softly into his ear.

Leaning back to brush away a strand of his hair from his face to get a full visual of his cat-like gaze.

“And why would I do that?” He teases gently.

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe because you love me?” You poke at his shoulder.

“Huh? Love?” He gives you a goofy look, raising both eyebrows in mock confusion. “...Is that some kind of sauce?”

He tries to keep a straight face, but the quirk of his lip gives him away.

You just stare at him before giving in to another fit of rolling giggles. The hearty, unrestrained laughter overtakes the both of you, causing you to double over and clutch your middle in an attempt to hold yourself up. Kenma has his back up against the counter-top, holding the edges of it with both palms to keep himself steady and from falling to the floor. 

As you both recover from aching lungs and that cloudy, euphoric feeling, you can’t help but let a smile plaster itself on your face.

Kenma has done many things today.

He gave you a reason to come home with hope in your heart. He’d drawn you into a heartfelt, soul-refreshing hug. He had made you laugh like nobody ever could. He’d even baked you an apple pie.

But best of all, he‘d held you together.

Like he always did.

Every single day, without a doubt in your mind, you could celebrate and smile. Because you would always have this cinnamon-covered cutie to smile and crack up with. He would always brighten the most mundane of weekdays and find the loveliest of ways to match your moods.

You two are like apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream.

And speaking of ice cream…

“Hey, Kozume?” You bring him into one more bear-like hug.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Did you get ice cream to go with the apple pie?” You ask, your face preciously tucked into the crook of his neck.

No reply. Had he heard you?

“Kozume? Did-”

Cue a huge sigh from Kenma.

“...Where are my car keys? I need to go to the store immediately.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @vintgicals, @moonlightaangel

(comment, dm, or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)

[miraculousandbts]

Jungkook | Best Fansign Ever

Summary: You decide to surprise your boyfriend by going to his Fansign.

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None

You were ready. Wallet? Check. Phone? Check. Purse? Check. Album? Check. Fansign ticket? Check. You were being a little too serious about this.

No, you weren't some fan who finally got the chance to go to a Fansign. You were dating one of the boys. Who? The youngest of them. It all started two years ago when you bumped into a stranger on the road. It weird enough that he was wearing a full-sleeved shirt on such a hot day, but on top of that, he had a mask, a pair of sunglasses, and a bucket hat. And a few tufts of blue hair were visible.

'Blue hair? Weird. He must be a die-heart fan of k-pop...or he just really wanted to dye his hair? Why do I care anyway? People can do what they want to.' you thought, as you bent down to pick up the papers which had fallen down from your hand. You had been sitting in a café where you had suddenly gotten an idea for a new comic, and you just had to scribble it down— more like roughly draw it down— on the small pieces of paper you carried around with you for such occasions.

He bent down as the same time as you with the same intentions as you, and picked up the other papers. "You drew these?" He just couldn't help asking, after seeing your rough sketches. They were pretty as it is, and he could imagine how beautiful they would be with touch ups.

"Uh, yeah." You awkwardly replied. "These are good." He didn't know what else to say. "Thank you." You gave him a grin. "I'll just go."

He moved past you, but something pulled you both back. You glanced at your wrist, and saw that a thread from his shirt was stuck in your bracelet. "Oh, sorry." You apologised and proceeded to try to take the thread out. Keyword: tried. He came closer so it would be easy, but you just couldn't figure out what to do. You didn't notice him move his hand to help you.

Instead, you thought how it was a thread, so you could just snap it. Without thinking twice, you wrapped your finger around the length of the thread and broke it. And that's when you noticed his hand mid air, frozen. He clearly wasn't expecting you to do so, that much you could tell, but because his whole face was covered up, you couldn't see his expression.

It took him a couple of seconds to register what happened. Then he gently placed his fingers on your bracelet and untangled the now cut-off thread from it, throwing it away after he was done.

"Thanks...?" You trailed off, indicating to him that you wanted to know his name. Without thinking, he said, "Jeon Jungkook." And then he proceeded to freak out. "No, no, no. Jung Jungkook, Jung Jungkook. Shit, hyung will kill me." He muttered the last part under his breath.

All of this was enough for you to figure out he was Jungkook from BTS. You wouldn't call yourself a die-heart fan, but you liked their music, and respected them a lot. He let out a noise sounding similar to 'nnnng' (I'm not good with describing noises...), and flattened his bucket hat against the sides of his face in frustration. At this point, he could only hope you weren't a fan or a netizen who would be able to recognise him.

His very noisy way of showing his exasperation was attracting a lot of attention. You subtly glanced around, and made a decision. You grabbed his wrist unintentionally hard, and pulled him with you to your house which was a five minute walk away. All this time, he kept following you without showing any signs of resisting. You only left his hand as you searched for your keys in your bag, and pulled him in after you opened the door.

After making sure the door was securely locked, you threw yourself on the sofa. Your one bedroom apartment wasn't anything extravagant, but it was yours. It was cozy, pretty, warm in winters, and cool in summer. And you had a balcony, as an added bonus. You glanced at the frozen boy still standing near the door, and patted the space next to you, where he timidly came and sat down.

"You can take off all this stuff now. I can only imagine how much you're sweating." You moved your arm gesturing to his head. He cautiously took off the mask, the sunglasses, and the hat. "I don't bite. Chill." You raised an amused eyebrow in his direction when you saw how hesitant he was.

"S-sorry. Why did you bring me here?"

"Well, you were freaking out cuz you told me your real name, and it was noisy enough to attract attention. Now, we wouldn't want paparazzi to trample either of us, would we?

"No." He silently agreed. "Thank you." He added as an afterthought. "It's okay. Make yourself at home. You hungry?" You finally got motivation enough to get up and do something. He nodded while pink dusted his cheeks.

'Adorable' was the only thing you could think in that moment. You changed and made both of you a little snack. To repay your kindness, he gave you his number and left. And well, the rest of it is history.

*****

You reached the event venue, and went in. It was easy for you to mingle in the crowd; you had to make sure you were not visible to Jungkook.

Sitting on the farthest chair from the main table as possible, you kept your head low, and glanced up every once in a while. Jungkook was the first person sitting there, which coincidentally just helped your plan. "Hey, you're y/n, right?" You turned your head towards the origin of the sound.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm y/n."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to surprise Kookie. He came back from the tour, but didn't go to Seoul, so I just thought I'd come here."

"Aw, that's so sweet of you!"

You lightly chuckled at her awing. You both made small talk while your chance came. She went ahead of you after some time of chatting.

You got up, still making sure not a single boy could see you. It was easy, considering there were so many fans there. You saw the girl you were talking to earlier come your way and raised your eyebrows. She silently came and stood in front of you, showing you her back, muttering one word. "Cover." You could practically hear the wink in her voice.

You smiled to yourself and whispered a grateful thanks.

It was finally your turn. When you sat down in front of Jungkook, he was looking down reading something, smiling at the book, while in his hand he held a cute rabbit plushie. 'Of course they'd give Kookie a bunny plushie.' you subconsciously smiled at the thought.

He looked up, and his eyes widened, while his jaw dropped. He was definitely not expecting that. Seriously.

"Hello, Jungkook oppa."

His expression went from shocked to deadpan in less than a fraction of a second. "Seriously? We see each other for the first time in months and that's what you call me?" He raised his eyebrows. "Why are you getting mad at me, oppa," you pouted. "I just wanted to get this album I bought some time ago signed."

He sighed and played along. He knew you, inside out. Which meant he also knew that you wouldn't acknowledge him as your boyfriend as long as he didn't play along. He took the album and smiled a small smile while signing it. He had missed you. You and your super annoying but kinda cute antics. He finished signing it, and passed it to Taehyung and then leaned forward a little.

"So, miss y/n, how have you been?" He did his cute lil head tilt and almost melted your heart.

"I've been good, thanks bun bun."

You had never seen him smile so big. He got up and so did you, attracting almost everyone's attention. The boys and the fans started recognising you, and cheered as you both moved towards each other for a big tight hug. "I missed you." He sighed. "I missed you too, Kook."

You pecked his lips and heard the members making sounds of disgust, which, by the way, only made both of you grin harder. You looked towards the crowd and saw that girl again, grinning and giving you a thumbs up. She winked as you gave her a slight grateful nod.

The rest of your day was spent with him and the other boys, enjoying the warmth you got when you were with your boyfriend and your closest friends.

[takadasaiko]

Conflict of Interest (a Superman & Lois oneshot)

FFN II AO3

Summary: His daughter’s relationship with Clark Kent has always been a conflict of interest for Sam, but never so much as it had been that day. Set after the main events of 1.12

Conflict of Interest

He had warned her. When Lois had dropped the bombshell that she'd agreed to marry Clark Kent, he'd warned her. She wasn't just marrying the bespeckled reporter that she'd fallen for - while lying to her for the first several months of their relationship and putting a bullseye on her back for the ones that followed - she was marrying Superman. Their lives would never be normal, no matter how much they wanted it to be. How much they pretended, because that's what it really was once the boys came along. Lois might know her husband's secret, but little boys that had no concept of the kind of danger they'd put their mother and themselves in? No, there was no way to tell them, and that left their parents lying to them, because their father - Lois' husband - wasn't normal. Earthquakes collapsed bridges during family dinner and supervillains didn't give a damn about PTA meetings.

Sam had hoped one of those warnings might stick all the way up to the wedding, but he'd raised a stubborn daughter. For a brief time he'd wavered back and forth on if he should assign one of his more promising up-and-comers to play liaison between Superman and the DOD. That didn't happen, though, and as he had stood on the Kent farm in full dress uniform and watched as the alien that the world had come to rely on so heavily lifted his laughing daughter up into his arms and spun her around, he had grimly started to come to terms with the fact that it never would. It was a clear conflict of interest and the military wouldn't blink twice before stripping him of all involvement with Superman if they ever found out. If they did that, though, Sam wouldn't be able to protect his little girl. To protect his family, and if he liked it or not, that included her husband.

They'd made it work, the two men finding a new and awkward balance between family and work. Sam had kept the casual meetings to a minimum. It wasn't until the boys were born that things started to get more complicated. Suddenly Lois wanted him around more. There were Christmas invites and birthdays, not to mention the once a year dinners that Martha Kent somehow thought he was required to attend. He even made it to the occasional pee wee football game or piano recital. Still, Sam was able to compartmentalize for the most part. He and Clark had lost the formal undertones of their conversations outside of the DOD and most days it was like talking to two separate people that wore the same face. So much so that Sam could almost understand how a pair of glasses somehow threw the world off his scent.

Somewhere along the way they got closer. Clark never approached him for parenting advice - Sam imagined that Lois had had a few warnings for him on that front - but there were moments when he caught the question behind the question the younger man was asking. His own father had been gone for years unless you counted some hologram something or the other that had access to the history of his home planet that apparently took on his biological father's form, and it was clear that Clark held a respect for Sam, even if there were a frustrating amount of times that they didn't see eye-to-eye on something. Personal conversations were had behind closed doors and eventually, as long as no one else was around, he became Clark even in red and blue. He was, no matter what name others referred to him as at that very moment, his son-in-law. He was family, and Sam always did whatever he thought was necessarily to protect his family. Sure, it was a conflict of interest, but one that he had told himself benefited everyone in the long run. He helped to protect his daughter's husband and, in turn, his daughter's husband helped protect the world.

He had just never expected to have to choose.

Clark Kent was many things, and one of those was steadfast in his devotion to the world that had welcomed him. He felt a responsibility, he'd told Sam time and again, and Sam believed him. That's why the four star general had thought that the worst case scenario that he'd authorized John Henry for was going to be just that. He'd been firm with Lois - give her an inch and she'd take a mile with it - and was treating it like any other threat. It wasn't until Irons was boots on the ground and Superman had laid him out like a ragdoll that it became evident that the worst case was also the reality and Sam was left with two choices: trust the man that he'd come to respect or take out the alien threat before he could destroy the very people that he'd once loved.

It couldn't be a conflict of interest. The world depended on it.

And with that, Sam had authorized Irons to put his son-in-law down like a rabid dog.

A long, loud car horn dragged him out of the horrible day's memory and Sam realized he'd simply stopped his SUV at the point he should have hung right down the dirt road leading to the Kent farm. A neighbor he was blocking down the east-bound lane made a frustrated gesture as he swerved around him and Sam steeled himself to make the turn. Well, they'd left the lights on for him. Apparently he was still an acceptable guest even if maybe not a welcomed one. It was fine. It was late enough that the household would be asleep and he could grab a quick shower and sleep for a few hours before hitting the ground running the next morning with the sun. After some rest maybe he could find the words to tell Lois… something. He was proud of her, he wished he'd had her resolve, he was sorry he put her through that. Something. Heaven knew she deserved it and he had promised things were going to be different.

Sam pulled the SUV up and parked it in front of the white paneled farmhouse before he killed the engine. His overnight bag was already in the guest room and he all but fell out of the vehicle, exhaustion snapping at his heels. He trudged up the path and was at the next-to-top step before he realized that he wasn't alone. "Clark," he greeted roughly, drawing the younger man's attention over to him from where he was leaning heavily against the railing that lined the porch.

"Sam. Hey. Get everything wrapped up?"

"We'll be wrapping up for a few more days, but we have -"

"Can it wait 'til morning?"

The question stopped Sam mid-sentence and he registered the pained expression on his son-in-law's face. A little pale, a little hunched over. He looked beyond exhausted. "You doin' alright?"

Clark forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "All alone in here," he promised, tapping a finger to the side of his head. "Just like the scans said."

"I know they did." Sam shifted his weight, feeling oddly uncomfortable under that blue-green gaze he'd long since become accustomed to. He loosed a long breath. "Listen, Clark…"

"If this is going to be an apology, I don't need one. I don't want one."

"I did give John Henry the green light to kill you."

"And it was the right call."

"Clark."

"In the moment, it was the right call." He grimaced and plucked his glasses from their place so that he could squeeze the bridge of his nose. There was a long, tense silence between them before he put them back, the weight not lifting off of him as he did. "He would have killed everybody we love."

"He?"

"The Kryptonian Tal-Roh tried to use me to resurrect," Clark answered softly.

Sam moved a little closer to better hear him. Not everyone on the property had super hearing. "Who was he?"

His gaze was distant, fixed on the cornfield that stretched out beyond the house he had grown up in. "A general. Zod. My father - Jor-El - knew him, but I only know the highlights. They're nothing compared to having him battering around your head even for a few hours."

"Is this someone we should be concerned about moving forward?"

"I don't think so. I think it was all or nothing. Either he won or I did."

"Glad you came out on top."

"Me too." He perked up, head swiveling towards the door like he heard something and Sam saw a shadow before his daughter became visible. She was dressed for bed in pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt with a Smallville High crow on it. Her house shoes had quieted her steps.

"Dad," she greeted, though it half sounded like a question as she pushed through the screen door. "It's freezing out here." Well, at least it didn't sound like she was about to turn him away. She did, however, turn to Clark. "The fresh air helping your headache?"

"A little."

"No one gets away from that one, huh?" Sam murmured, thinking about the one constant response from everyone they'd spoken to the night the Kryptonian consciousnesses had been ripped from them.

Clark gave a small, mirthless chuckle. "First one I've ever had. I think it's safe to say I'm not a fan."

The attempt at a joke tugged very slightly at the corner of Sam's lips and he risked a glance back at his daughter. Lois, though, was focused in with a worried expression on Clark. The tiny smile instantly vanished. "I'll let you two get some rest."

That brought her attention back around. "Is there any update?"

"It can wait 'til morning," he echoed Clark's earlier request. "Good night."

Sam thought he heard a quiet response as he pushed through the screen door and into the house. Shower, then bed. Tomorrow would be a new day and by then he was sure he'd know how to say what needed to be said. How to convey that, despite what Clark had just said, he disagreed. He hadn't made the right call that day. He should have taken a page from Lois' book and had a little more faith in the man that had proven himself time and time again.

And he would. It was time to end the conflict of interest and choose his family.

---

Notes: I've been wanting to write a one shot touching on Sam and Clark's relationship for some time now. I have two unfinished fics, but apparently this is the one that I could finish, so here we are.

Seriously considering a second chapter that follows Clark and Lois after Sam leaves and their conversation between his return and the next morning's debrief. Anyone interested?

[jpegjade]

Holding It In - Spencer

Request: 

Y/N has been super stressed at work but doesn’t want to tell Spencer bc she doesn’t want to bother him but he profiles her and figures it out. 

Warnings? None unless you hate longass fluff. 

__________

“Y/N, great, you’re still here. I need you to take on more responsibility in and out of the office.” Your boss said. He wasn’t even looking at you, he was looking around the office trying to find his assistant. 

How much more responsibility did he expect you to handle? You were training the interns, handling your regular work load, and you were taking overtime shifts. How were you supposed to balance even more when you were already taking work home, something you promised yourself you would never do because you needed to draw a line somewhere. You needed balance and this was tipping the scales even further than they already were. You were overworked and underpaid.

“Yes sir.” You said, nodding your head. You wanted to explode already but this? This was going to make sure you exploded into thousands of little pieces. You needed help but there was nowhere you could find it. All of the responsibility fell on your shoulders and you couldn’t let anyone down. 

You had always felt that way. You can’t let anyone down because they’ll be disappointed in you, which was infinitely worse than just getting fired. When someone was disappointed in you, you saw it in their faces, the way they glanced at each other when you spoke, the way they wouldn’t meet your eyes. You hated that feeling and you knew that you couldn’t let anything happen to feel like that again. Never again. 

You finally got to leave the office at 11:52 pm, hoping that Spencer didn’t beat you home. You hadn’t talked to him in a couple hours because you needed to focus and he was your favorite distraction. Shooting him a quick text that you were on the way home, he responded with the wrong emoji. That meant he was busy but wanted to make sure you knew he was still responsive. 

Turning the key, you pushed the door through. Spencer wasn’t home, thank god. You still needed to shower and finish another report you had to present in the morning. Then you needed to look over the intern’s work and so much else. Stepping into the hot shower, you let the water wash over you. You let your thoughts drift off to the fact that any day now, you would get a promotion. This was all just a test to see who could handle the most pressure. Sure, you had the most on your plate out of everyone in the running but…

“Y/N? I’m home.” Spencer said, bringing you out of your thoughts. You jumped at the sound of his voice, wondering how long he had been back. 

“Hey, just finishing up. Give me a second.” You yelled over the water. Turning off the water and drying off. You forgot your clothes in your room so you just wrapped yourself up in your towel and went to find Spencer. 

He was eating Lucky charms at 1 a.m., tie loosened and his hair was a mess like he had been running his hands through it. You walked up to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled a tired smile and you grabbed yourself a bowl and sat next to him. He had a bad habit of setting the milk and the box on the table instead of putting them away after he filled his bowl. You poured yourself a bowl and sat in comfortable, tired silence. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, almost knowingly. 

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to get this weight off your chest and tell Spencer everything. You just wanted to break down and release all of your anger, frustration, and annoyance at your current work situation but you just couldn’t. Not to Spencer, who had his own problems to deal with. You were supposed to be there for him because his problems were so much greater than yours. You could handle a little more work. 

“Nothing, Spence.” You said, forcing yourself to smile. 

“Something is wrong and you’re not telling me.” He said, his brow furrowed. He stood up to put your bowl away at the same time he put his bowl in the sink. 

“You shower at night now, meaning you need stress relief rather than a way to wake up.” He walked back to where you were and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the bedroom. 

“Y/N, you wake up two hours earlier than you need to, leaving earlier than you need to, even though the bus doesn’t come for 30 minutes after you leave the apartment. Your hair is often messier than mine by the end of the day, meaning you were frazzled at some point through the day. Your texts have more errors in them, which means you were rushing or your arms are full. You don’t go anywhere without your laptop, which means you need to stay connected to the world. You don’t-” 

You kissed him to shut him up. He knew you so well. He paid attention to you in such detail, even when you didn’t think about it. You felt guilty for not telling him everything when he wanted to know. 

“Spencer. I love you so much.” You said, smiling. He looked into your eyes with a dazed look, the same look he always gave you each time you guys shared a deep kiss. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong, y/n.” He pleaded with you and you felt a tear roll down your cheek. “Please...” He brought his hand up to gently wipe it away with his thumb. 

“I’m really overworked, Spence. I can’t handle all of the responsibility everyone expects me to carry. I can’t do it all. I’m not like you, I’m not…” 

He pulled you into a tight hug as you felt sobs rack your body. You didn’t even know you had it in you to cry, especially not this hard. You didn’t know you had so much energy left in you. 

“Come on, y/n. We’re going to lay down and I’m going to hold you while you tell me about your projects. Then we’re going to create an action plan. But from now on, you have to make me a promise.” 

“What promise?”  You said, sniffling. 

“You have to promise me that you won’t hold everything in, not with me. In return, I promise to tell you more of what’s on my mind. But we can’t do this to each other when we have each other.” He said, looking in your eyes again. You nodded, quietly. 

“No more holding it in.” You agreed.

[funkymbtifiction]

How I Write, How I Dream: ESTP Edition

Mod: An ESTP asked permission to submit this, since she noticed I do not have an ESTP ‘How I write stories’ description in the archive to match this series. What follows is in her own words.

ESTP: How I Write, How I Dream

So this submission is like 6+ years late topically, I think, but it’s an understatement to say I get side-tracked easily. First I had to be self-aware enough to actually determine my type with confidence, and then I had to remember to write this up. Hopefully it’s an edition that’s better late than never – in any case, I thought it might be fun to contribute, given the frequent lack of Se-dom voices in things like this.

I’m aware that I might be in a comparatively small group as a regular ESTP writer, let alone one familiar with personality typology, but I wrote my first short story at nine for a 4th grade assignment, and then my first full story/intended book when I was eleven, (both of which I immediately proceeded to act out on the playground), so it’s sort of always been a part of my normal retinue of hobbies/coping mechanisms/diversions/distractions. Usually I find that I write the most when I’m bored or otherwise dissatisfied with my real life – sort of using it to spice things up with more exciting events, even if they’re regrettably fictional. I also suspect that I use writing to experience all the interesting things I find myself unable to physically do, at least for the moment – not unlike what your ISTP contributor described. I think sometimes that I use it to subconsciously work through certain concepts, too, until I understand them holistically. It’s like it gives me a way to actually engage and interact with a philosophical concept through tangible expression – through embedding it into [fictional] human behavior. Like how I understand the nuances of the concept of apostasy better for having walked through the plot of Silence (2016) with Scorsese than I would have if it was still just a definition in a theology textbook. Application helps me. (I also had a counselor a while back who told me that I used my writing to work through the emotions I hate to process in real life, but I was never wholly convinced of that or the connection of my plots to my real life events, so jury’s out, I guess.)

When I was a kid, I liked to read a fair-ish amount. Spies were oftentimes my favorite topic, but I also wanted eagerly to be one and owned probably every kid spy gadget ever manufactured for sale at the Spy Museum in D.C., to which I dragged my parents practically every weekend so I could crawl through air vents, etc. However, my favorite children’s series of all was actually the Ingo series by the late Helen Dunmore, which provided me with exciting, nature-based, and [mostly] emotionally satisfying adventures in my lifelong favorite unpredictable environment – underwater. (I also dragged my parents constantly to our local aquarium.) As I got older, the frequency of my reading dropped, and I now find myself usually pulled more towards nonfiction.

[Note – I just realized a lifelong quirk with me and books. I’m sort of ridiculously set on *seeing* the books I own. I mean, I know what I own, but I still constantly get out every book I own on a particular topic just to see them all at once. It makes the knowledge more cohesive for me to concentrate it visually, I guess. Even just the covers. Anyway.]

My writing habits are kind of awful – in that, like alluded to above, I pretty much only write when I either a) am seized by a great idea, or else b) have nothing better to do. I have little ambition to actually publish or anything like that, regardless of encouragement, and I prefer to think of my writing as just a diversion, an amusement for myself alone (though I do crave minimal approval, as I do in anything). In any case, as soon as the pressure of a schedule is attached to my writing, it drains of all joy for me. Much like your ISTP contributor described, I think I hover somewhere between plotter and pantser, depending on the story. Too much planning leads to my feeling like I have no incentive to actually write it, as I’ve already experienced it, and too little leaves me spinning aimlessly with no real direction. I write both prose and screenplays, and the rule seems to hold true for both, overall. Also, whenever I have a problem in my plotting or characters or whatever, I find that I have to step away, go be busy with something else, sometimes for a long while, and when I come back everything just falls into place. I guess unconscious Ti and/or Ni finding solutions? I’m not totally sure how/why that happens.

As my inclusion of screenplay format may suggest, I experience my stories in an incredibly visual way. I think sometimes that my narratives come across very much like movies, with all the requisite limitations and usual lack of character introspection. I feel like I pretty much focus on the observable actions of my characters – I find describing any kind of extended rumination highly unnatural, at least most of the time. Even my planning is highly visual. I have a tendency to graph, chart, draw, and plaster my options all over the walls. It’s ridiculous sometimes, but in many cases I just have to be able to see them all next to each other, even if there’s no other information provided. Like my books, mentioned earlier. It helps clarify my plot choices in my mind. It’s also a quirk/weakness of mine that I am often entirely dependent on outside images for descriptions. I need to find a real person, place, or thing to base my fictional ones on physically if I hope to have any kind of concrete knowledge to allow description. Again, it helps solidify them/it in my mind.

I have another weakness in my writing that often results in much incredulous laughter – I’m often entirely blind to any hidden meaning or symbolism in my own writing. I might get the vaguest sense of something being a good line, but be unsure why until my ISFJ friend starts praising my deep, archetypal references and crafting – and then staring at me when I clearly have no idea what she means. It’s happened several times by this point, and though it makes me laugh, I’ll just blame it on the subconscious inferior Ni. I pretty much never have any kind of goal of being symbolic or laden with deep meaning. If I were ever to try that, I think it would massively stress me out.

In terms of editors, beta readers, or whatever else we want to call those who give solicited criticism – that’s just what I need/want. Criticism. For the most part, I’m incredibly thick-skinned about my writing and would be absolutely fine if someone told me that it was utterly terrible and the whole thing needed revising down to the very concept. That may be because I think many of my concepts are lackluster to start with. But nothing frustrates me so quickly as readers unwilling to actually [and harshly] criticize. I always tell them that I want him/her to rip it to shreds. I mean, that’s the only way it’ll get better. (I’ve made mistakes before by assuming that other writers feel this way, too – my sister did not appreciate my input.)

I write almost exclusively dramas these days, I guess, though of varying subtypes. (I also maintain the availability/ready accessibility of about 10+ stories at any given time of active writing. I bounce between them sometimes based on what I’m feeling like at the moment or what I have a new thought about.) I have a sort of historical drama thing that takes place in the 1680s, a modern drama prompted by a premise of genetic engineering, a Most Dangerous Game kind of hunting/weapons thing, a detective story in the immediate aftermath of WWII, a classic deserted island story, a thing involving the phenomenon of stigmata… the list goes on and shifts constantly.

However, while I’ve typically enjoyed writing, here’s the omnipresent rub – engaging with it for any great amount of time makes me really unhealthy emotionally. I’m pretty sure that after like two or three days primarily working on a story without other overriding priorities, or like six or seven with those scattered distractions, (at best), I’m plummeting straight down to my inferior functions. My historical stories do this even more quickly, because they oftentimes seem to require more mental effort. I get super irritable, drown in self-loathing, start to think that everything real that I want is never going to happen – it’s really not good. The fact of the matter is that while writing is a fun diversion oftentimes, I go insane doing it for too long, because I need to get out and engage. (Thanks to my pesky Se-dom, daring to ask for more than just incessant fidgeting.)

When I do write, however, I’m known for my in-depth research, my character-driven plots, lines some people in my life seem to think are witty or something, and emotional depth, believe it or not. I’ve been complimented on it, as well as my tendency to accurately portray mental/emotional illness. I don’t know. I’ve never thought I was overly talented at such things, but then again, I never paid much attention. Even this write-up has been hard – analyzing my writing like this. It’s not a strength of mine to scrutinize my own habits.

After all, I’m busy – I have to go blast Maroon 5 as I jump off a 20-foot wall yelling, “Parkour!”

I am an ESTP, remember? ;-)

[emilycollins00]

A3 actors! Art in bloom

Type: One shot

Pairing: Miyoshi Kazunari x Reader

Theme: Passion / Art / Clash

Contrary to what many people and even classmates of yours thought, being an art student was not something you should chose to do lightly.

Sure, it seemed enjoyable, cute even. But no one ever talked about how many hours you would spend with a single portrait, drafting about abstract concepts or trying to discern at two in the morning whether a sculpture should turn more sideways or look at the ground to create a deeper perspective. 

Art was wild.

But you loved it and, why not admit it, you took it pretty seriously. Maybe a tiny bit more than most people.

That’s why you had always liked how Kazunari Miyoshi, although being the loud person he was, frequently went on and on with you discussing ideas when there was some debate in class. That brain of his was something else. His works and usual approach when mixing modern and traditional Japanese culture fascinated you. It really did.

But that had been changing lately, and it angered you.

Up until this year you hadn't really cared about it. Everyone had their right to live however they wanted after all.

However, without being able to tell when it began, you started casually observing him. You watched him talk to your other classmates as soon as the lecture, frowned as he concentrated on the draft they had one hour and a half to finish or taking selfies and live videos of the works you all were demanded to do. You even discovered yourself staring and how the sun caressed his profile first hour in the morning.

He had a nice profile.

By that point, something inside you was getting frustrated. He participated in class and attended to the lectures, but at the same time…? you felt he was starting prioritising social media over art, or looking for people for one of his popular mixers, like so many of your other classmates, who had most likely entered this major without much thought, did.

You would understand if he would have a part-time job, but the thought of him being able to do so much more and deciding to stop midway left you speechless.

You wished for him to take more things seriously. 

“Miyoshi, were you able to clean all the supplies from last class?" you called him out between the break. Everyone in class traded places to carry the main boxes with brushes, paints and whatever main source they had to work with each week "Our teacher told me to take some clay from there. I'm planning to use them for my final project, but I can't seem to find the key in the secretary office”

The university student lifted his head from his mobile and tipped on his chin, trying to remember "Supplies from...? Oh man, THAT is why I had them in my working space!” He palped his jeans looking for it “My bad, I was totes in a hurry and just closed as soon as we were done!” 

You contained an exasperated groan “Why would you get the key unless it was to clean the practice room?” 

Kazunari laughed nervously under your intimidating glare “True, true! It's just that I was talking with some friends over the phone and they were in a hurry so…” he showed you the key taking it out of his pocket, maybe to show that at least he hadn’t lost it “Do you need them now? I could go clean for you” 

The vein you had tried so hard to maintain calm popped altogether. Not wanting to keep talking, you rapidly grabbed the key from his hand and headed to take the supplies. God grief how you hated that carefree attitude. 

                                         ……………………..…….

“No prob, dude! Next time just hit me up with a DM and I’ll come running to your uni here! In exchange, I’ll need your help to finish the flyers so…” 

Recognizing the flashy voice, you slowly looked behind, witnessing the blond with another person. Was he meeting with people to play around here too? 

You couldn’t believe it. You all had your final projects deadlines almost spitting in your faces! That’s why you had to come to this other university to ask for permission to use a kiln for your final, as you didn’t have lectures prepared today and your university didn’t have any. Didn’t look like it was Kazunari’s case. 

“Uh? No way, Y/N-pyon!” he waved at you with both hands, confirming it was you indeed, as he got closer “Looking fleek today too! What are you doing here in Yosei?” the person walking next to him whispered something “They’re a friend from my major Tsuzuroon, I told you about them, dude!” 

You mentally scoffed. Without returning his greet and turning on your heels, you headed for the teacher’s office.

 “You said friend but…” Tsuzuru squinted his eyes, watching you leave “…It doesn't look like they like you very much” 

“No worries! Nowadays they are always like that. But their works are so lit! Y/N-pyon is the ultimate remix of you, Ten-ten and Yukki!” 

“That’s… not a good thing, Miyoshi-san”

                            …………………………………………

“Y/N-pyon, about-”

“Miyoshi, sorry. I am on my way to Yosei University to finish my work and unlike your usual approach of work to play, I actually don’t have time to waste”

“Uh? My works are…”

“Are what? I’ve been seeing you doing half-assed things all over the semester. This last week you didn’t even come at the afternoon lectures” you were pretty sure this was just you venting at this point “You’re amazing Miyoshi, I honestly think that, so why? If… If you only put more of yourself into it, your art would be even more unbelievable!”

He went quiet, a rare sight.

“Art it’s not something you just do for laughs; I thought you were one of the few people here that felt the same and-” the phone in your bag started ringing. Head  teacher. Inhaling deeply, you answered it “Yes?”

“Y/N-san? I am so sorry. Could you come to Josey university?” 

Losing the eye contact you had been maintaining with the blond boy, your heart sank as you heard the words ‘kiln’ and ‘malfunction’. “…Please tell me my final project is ok” 

                                       ……………………………….

You stood in silence, looking at the mess when you heard a knock at the door.

“I know I shouldn’t have followed and am expecting you throw me out the door but…” you didn’t move an inch so Kazunari took that as a free pass.

Just as the teacher told you, the electricity in the small building had had an issue and there had been a combustion, meaning, the sculpture you had kept here while working for weeks was now cracked and in shreds. You sniffed, brushing away the tears that were trying to come out from your eyes. All your hard work. All the time spent, had been for nothing.

“The Kiln is burnt. I don’t have anything good to save” you felt emotionally exhausted “Damn, I should have used air dry clay since the beginning… or not tried to sculpt anything” your vision became blurry again “I don’t know why do I make everything more difficult that it is”

Kazunari contemplated the situation, studying the seemingly full cracked sculpture from afar.

“Teach probably told you she would wait for you to turn on the work, right?” He saw you vaguely nodding you head “You got this!” he put his hand on your shoulder, you barely glancing at him “Look, If you still wanna use this base I’ll go ask for some moisturize and clean water to mix. Then I will maintain the upper part as you work down there, not bad idea right?”

You stared at him, finally grasping that he had come all the way here and was now trying to help “Why are you here? I… was being a busybody telling you how to work in our major” you had realized you had crossed the line back then.

Kazunari laughed, shaking his head “You were not saying anything that was a lie though, I don't want to admit it, but it’s true I've been a mess for a while”

“I guess parties require a lot of work” you bite your tongue hard. He was being a decent person trying to help and you couldn’t stop for two seconds to pick on him? You wanted to punch yourself.

“Mmm? Ah, our theatre troupe is almost opening for performance and the next troupe is on practices so flyers and scripts are running at full gas”

You stopped looking at your sculpture. What did he just say about a theatre?

“…What?”

“You’ve never come, Y/N-pyon? Mankai company is the best theatre in Veludo way! You totes should come, I’ll even send you the tickets for our new performance!” before you knew it, he had already DM you what you imagined was all the background information.

The moment you unlocked it, you almost dropped the phone. The photos and drawings of the posters were amazing, and you just knew who it had done “You… never said you had a job”

Kazunari considered what you pointed out. Mankai had managed to recover from what they needed to pay but they still didn't have enough founds “I’ve never thought about our acts as a job thought”

Your mind was a mess. Being an actor and doing publicity didn’t count for him as he studied? No wonder he usually left early! Now you felt even worst. You had behaved like a… “Uh, are these original templates?” you browsed over the performances’ posters, each one more astonishing than the other “This is… wow and this one?” 

He blinked, noticing how the tone of your voice was now more soothing. You had somewhat calm down. He would high-key enjoy hearing you talk to him like that more often “Hey, enough about me. We have work to do”

You agreed, putting away your phone “You’re right but again I… I am sorry, Miyoshi. And thanks, for staying” 

“No prob, Y/N-pyon!” 

“Would you tell me what I could do so you stopped calling me that?” 

“Eeeeeeh why? I think it fits! It's super-duper cute, like you!” 

Thump!

No. You told yourself.

Coming back to your senses you told yourself the warm you felt in your cheeks was due to summer starting earlier. It definitely wasn’t because of Kazunari smile directed at you, helped you or how the sun reflected on his perfect profile as you both started working on your work. 

Art was wild… but it was also an evocative of feelings.

_________________________________________________________

This one has been a difficult one! I wanted Reader to kind of clash with his mindset

Hope you guys enjoy it. Have a wonderful day! 💕

[scratchbandicoot]

Based on this lovely lil thing

He swears on all the comedy shows he’s ever watched, this would be the exact moment where things would freeze frame, record scratch, and insert corny line, like, “Hi, I’m Steve, you’re probably wondering how i got here-“

And normally, in a situation like this one, it wouldn’t at all be the case. Baking is like, a seriously mundane thing a lot of people do. Mostly housewives, grandmas or kids with their parents but it just so happens that Steve is the one doing the baking right now- and it should have gone without a hitch. So, 20 minutes of digging into the cabinets of his mom’s cook books- he began. He wanted it to be good, not a cop out box of mix because making it from scratch makes it more special. And it’s a fucking cake; how hard could it really be?

Apparently super fucking hard actually. Because what should have been a completely mundane, simple task that takes like 40 minutes tops- Steve was left with this. Referring to the absolute disaster that is his kitchen. There’s like, 8 eggshells scattered all over the countertop- one somehow ending up on the floor and another on his knee. There is a spilling bag of sugar on its side creating a hectic little pile that leaks onto the stove top- (Thank god for his parents expensive ass glass-top stoves.) Somehow he managed to spill olive oil around the sink when the recipe doesn’t even call for it- and to top it all off there is flour covering every inch of the kitchen and himself. The apron he has on does absolutely nothing, the powder covering his pastel blue cashmere button up- and he’s sure he somehow managed to get flour on places where the sun don’t shine. He’s three hours 45 minutes deep at this point and he knows he’s literally about to cry. He can feel his eyes burning with frustration and a huge lump tightening his throat with the threat of unshed tears. How did he get to this point? Well, lets backtrack.

It’s Billy’s birthday tomorrow . Steve has always done something special on Billy’s birthdays- even though he is like, super weird about gifts and being given things. Seriously, last time Steve gave Billy just a dumb little birthday card with snoopy dancing, and text that read ‘a big-smiling, fun-having, great-feeling birthday’- his nose srunched up like he had to sneeze and he gave the most awkward thanks followed by a back pat that- felt so absolutely “hiya pal” that Steve cackled out loud to the point he was in tears. Billy just burned red and sputtered all irritated, “Stop fucking laughing, Harrington.” Guy just cannot handle shows of affection.

This though, was a little more special. A little more personal than a rinky-dink peanuts birthday card- because billy really loved confetti cake. It brought back memories of his mom; how they used to bake the cake together on his younger birthdays, and how much he really missed it. Nothing could really beat the warmth of those memories, or the fondness painting Billy’s face when he recalled them- but goddamit- steve was gonna try, was trying, his actual best. He even convinced Keith that he’d take his next Saturday shift if he let him off the hook today to do this. His nonna had baked with him when he was young-like, 6- so he figured he’d pick it back up. Which was so not the case here. It’s safe to say he is more than a little rusty. So rusty in fact, that his old bike that he got for his 12th birthday that sits in the garage decaying and untouched, had absolutely nothing on him right now.

The first try was peppy; with a shimmy of hips and a waving whisk to the song playing from the sound system in the living room, and Steve thought genuinely that he did it right. He might have, maybe, with the recipe, but the lump of coal that was pulled out of the oven indicated heavily to the opposite. The smoke in the kitchen made Steve cough and gag, having to open up all the windows along with the screen door. The second attempt was a different outcome. Terrible, but different. A cake with singed edges and a liquidy inside that stuck to the pan and got scraped out with an uncermonious plop into the garbage. Mush, really, something akin to the texture of apple sauce. The third attempt Steve really focused, he swears, but that just ended up with a cake that didnt even rise and he was back to square 1 before he knew it with a beautifully new sense of defeat.

So, before he had an actual mental break over a goddamn cake he knew 7 year olds could make better, he called up Ms. Henderson for help. The lady is practically a god when it comes to baking and he really does not know how she does it. Whips out cookies and tarts and cupcakes like it’s going out of style.

“Hmm...oh! Sweetie, I think it might be the cornstarch. It sinks to the bottom of the pan if you don’t add baking soda- did you add baking soda?”

Steve glances at the forgotten unopened box of baking soda leaned against the stoves backsplash. He slaps himself mentally.

“Um, no. No i did not do that.”

“Well then, that’s it! You simply forgot a key ingredient is all. Not a big deal in the slightest.” Ms. Henderson was always very sweet to steve. Maybe because Dustin had become a little brother to him, but she never ever made him feel dumb. Always assured him mistakes are simply human.

“Right, right, yeah. I’ll add that. Thank you Ms. Henderson.” Steve goes to run a hand through his hair but is met with the headband pulling Steve’s hair from his eyes.

“Its Claudia sweetie, you know that.” Steve could hear the smile in her voice. She makes him feel better.

She gave a few more tips, how just white sugar might dry out the cake when used too much and using brown sugar will make the cake’s texture fluffier. He thanks her and hangs up with a sigh. Back to work.

He follows each step meticulously, following Claudia’s directions to a T and slips it into the oven; prays to god that this will be the last time he tries this. He’s only got one egg left and the overly sweet assortment of smells is starting to make him nauseous. After 45 excruciating minutes, Steve huffs and pulls out the cake. It looks... actually it looks like a cake. He smiles crookedly- holding his breath as he slips the cake onto the tray. It comes out in one piece, albeit lopsided, Steve whoops. He finally fucking did it- the cake actually looks like a confetti cake- and Steve is just so fucking proud of it, already going in to make the frosting before theres a ring at the door.

He frowns, wiping the flour on his watch head. It’s midnight- 12:07 am. Jesus christ, he started this at 7 pm, he didn’t even realize-

He hurries up to the door trying to wipe off the flour and make himself semi presentable. The door swings open and it’s Billy. He’s holding a six pack of Natural Light and a smirk that warps into a surprised raise of his eyebrows at Steve’s current state. He’s sure he must like he just ran a drug cartel or something.

“Hi, pretty boy.” Billy says as he walks in, checking Steve up and down. “Whats uh, whats up with your threads? Look like you jumped head first into coke or got real personal with Frosty the Snowman”

Stve rolls his eyes. His breath catches when he sees Billy start walking to the kitchen. He runs and blocks Billy in the doorway.

“You can’t go in there.”

Billy frowns, “What, you actually got drugs in there or somethin’?”

“No- you just- you can’t go in there. Not allowed.”

“Cmon baby whatcha got in there?” Billy starts to nudge past him; never was good at waiting.

“Wait, no- Billy- don’t-“

Billy takes in the state of the kitchen with a confused look and low whistle before his eyes land on the unfrosted confetti cake sitting on the kitchen island in all it’s lopsided glory. He freezes.

Steve waddles up behind him; following his gaze as he chews on his lip.

“I’m sorry, didn’t have time to make the frosting. Wanted it to be a surprise.” Steve scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly.

Billy’s still just standing there, and for a moment Steve is afraid he overstepped. That he was hijacking a moment from Billy’s mom that was only okay to do if she did it. He tries to get a read on Billy from his side profile since Billy is only turned slightly towards him but he can’t. A few more seconds of Billy standing there- and what Steve hopes is stunned silence- before Billy quietly murmurs,

“You made me a confetti cake?”

Steve holds his breath after a strained little, “Yeah.” The unshed tears from earlier are threatening to fall again, “You said you loved confetti cake, and that it made you happy. Wanted to make you happy.”

Billy spins on his heel fast, catching Steve’s face in his hands and lips with his own. Steve’s heart bursts and jerks a little with the surprise. It’s a chaste thing, just a press of lips, before Billy pulls away.

“You’re so... you just...” Billy trailed off and it was, like, a huge thing for Steve in that moment. Billy? Speechless? Steve never thought he’d see the day. It makes his face heat but his heart full and he beams.

“I’m... what?” He draws out.

“Fuckin’- somethin’. You’re somethin’ else.” Billy tugs him in by the waist and uses the other hand to swipe at the flour on Steve’s cheek. He looks so goddamn fond it makes Steve’s heart rate skyrocket.

“Is it okay?”

Billy hums, “It’s so okay. So much better than okay.”

He presses sweet little kisses to Steve’s lips and Steve can’t stop smiling.

“Well,” he says between pecks, “I wanted to do something special.”

Billy hums again, kisses trailing pepper like to his cheeks, his forehead, his nose and now down his neck.

Steve fights down the urge to shiver as he wraps his arms around the other’s shoulders. But-then he feels a wetness at the crook of his neck and makes a soft concerned noise at the back off his throat. He tugs Billy gently off and is met with blue, glassy eyes. Billy was tearing up.

“Thank you.” Billy says wetly, gently, before hugging Steve tight. “God- i- thank you.”

Steve smiles sweetly, hands going into Billy’s hair. He doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need to. Knows that this is Billy being happy, knows that this isn’t bad, knows Billy. Loves Billy.

Steve pokes Billy’s sides- grins, “Happy birthday, baby.” And punctuates it with a kiss.

[quicksilversquared]

The Substitute Ladybug: Chapter 4

After Lila takes things too far and Marinette ends up with a broken leg, Paris is going to have to deal with a different superhero arrangement for a bit. Having to share her superhero identity with her parents before Hawkmoth can be defeated isn’t something that Marinette had planned on doing, but- well, it might end up being a bit of a blessing in disguise.

links in the reblog

Having a broken leg sucked.

Really, that shouldn't have been news to her at all, Marinette reflected as she slouched in her desk chair. She had already been dealing with everything that came along with a broken leg for a week and a half now, and the frustration about not being able to move around like normal or do her normal activities had long since set in. The extra planning ahead- how she was going to get from one classroom to another, what she needed to do if she wanted to make a quick (or not-so-quick) trip to the bathroom- was annoying, but not a huge deal. But not being able to go out with her friends like she normally did?

It wasn't something that Marinette had considered, but- well, going out and wandering around the city just wasn't a good idea on a leg that was still fairly early on in the healing process. Maybe her friends could have adjusted what they were going to do on their outing, but...

Well, it still just sounded so tiring. Maybe it was a good idea to make sure that she wasn't just sitting around and not moving as much as she should be, but there was also such thing as too much movement. It would be all too easy to hit that level when she was out with her friends and then be too exhausted to be able to focus on an akuma battle.

So Marinette was stuck at home, knowing full well that her friends were out having fun without her.

She had anticipated the frustration that came with not being able to be a superhero in the way that she was used to. It was easy enough to figure out that the activity where she was super-active would be off the table for the foreseeable future. She had guessed that her leg would make things at school a bit more complex. But Marinette hadn't anticipated how a simple day outing with her friends would suddenly be too much to do.

"I'm sure that you'll be able to hang out with them again soon," Tikki commented from where she was perched on Marinette's shoulder. She had decided to hang out with Marinette for the afternoon, since it would be easy enough for Mrs. Cheng to come up and get her if an akuma attacked. "Your leg will heal up and not hurt so much when you move around, and then you can go out more. And maybe you can just go out with them for part of the day and leave early! It's always an option."

"I suppose." Marinette suspected that that would be easier said than done, honestly. If she was out with Alya and the other girls, she would be having fun and probably want to stay out. Then the exhaustion would creep up on her and she would end up regretting the day, no matter how enjoyable the first part had been. "And I know that I'll be back out there soon, once my leg is better and I can enjoy it, but right now it's just another reminder of what I can't do."

She had found a work-around for her superhero life, a way to be involved without physically being out on the battlefield. But for social outings with her classmates?

She had tried doing the same thing as Adrien always did when his father didn't let him come out, with just video-calling her friends and getting carried along virtually, but that hadn't lasted longer than ten minutes before Marinette had made her excuses and ended the call. Instead of helping, it made her feel worse. Tagging along by camera was just a reminder that she wasn't there with them, and she had found herself constantly craning her neck to try to see what else was going on beyond the camera and feeling thrown off by not being able to see everything. Besides, Alya had been the one holding the phone and she had an annoying habit of waving her hands around unthinkingly when she got animated about something. She could mostly quash that habit during akuma fights, when she was focused on the akuma or on the superheroes, but when she was just out with her friends? The camera went everywhere.

There was a reason why it was usually Nino or Marinette who held the phone when Adrien was video-calling them. And even when it was Nino- well, he wasn't the best at holding the phone still, either.

Oddly enough, Marinette wasn't interested in getting motion sickness from a video call when she was already feeling crummy because of her leg.

Hopefully she would start feeling significantly better soon and could tag along on outings again. Right now, she was just sore and tired so much of the time, and hopping along on her crutches just sometimes seemed like so much of a chore.

Sighing, Marinette turned her attention to her schoolwork. There was really nothing more to work on, though, so she turned her attention to her sketchbook instead. She tried to draw, but all that came out were uninspired doodles. After two full pages of absent, aimless doodles, Marinette pushed her sketchbook to the side and considered her options. What did she want to do?

Or, more accurately, what did she want to do that she could actually do?

Nothing was coming to mind.

"Maybe a change of scenery is all you need!" Tikki suggested. "You could go up to the living room and do something there."

"Or I could go downstairs and help run the counter," Marinette suggested, already liking that idea better. Being upstairs by herself was no fun, and her mom did have a chair by the counter that she could sit in. It would be a nice way to help her parents, after they had been helping her so much with her Ladybug duties. "I think I'll do that, at least for a bit. And maybe I can text the girls and let them know and they can come visit!"

"Ooh, I like that idea!"

Decided, Marinette made her careful way downstairs. The bakery was buzzing- as it usually was at this time on Saturdays, but this seemed even busier than normal- and her mom was busy at the counter. Marinette could see cupcakes in the front kitchen, set out on the table and clearly ready to be decorated when Mrs. Cheng had the time.

She clearly had no time at the moment.

"I'll take the register, Maman," Marinette said, step-hopping up to the counter. "You can decorate."

Mrs. Cheng looked relieved as she stepped back. "You're a lifesaver, Marinette."

For the next forty minutes, Marinette perched on the stool at the counter and rang people up, bagging or boxing up their purchases before sending them on their way. Her mom stepped in to help box things up when the line got too long, but mostly worked away at decorating the cupcakes and cakes that Mr. Dupain brought out for her. It was a good system, and Marinette let out a relieved breath as the last of the line was finally sent away, cheerful and satisfied.

"Good job, sweetheart," Mr. Dupain told her as he bustled past, his arms full of baskets to refill the shelves. "That helped out a bunch."

"It's better than sitting around upstairs," Marinette said cheerfully, taking advantage of the pause to make sure that everything in the cash register was straight and tidy. "I was just floating around and grumbling about being bored."

"Normally you're as busy as a bee, so that must have been a change for you!" Mrs. Cheng laughed. "I suppose it doesn't help that your sewing machine is still upstairs. I can bring it down later, if you want."

Marinette beamed, and then almost immediately remembered everything that she would need to actually be able to use her sewing machine and drooped. "It's- it's probably not worth it. I would need a bunch of my fabric and my thread box and buttons and- and all sorts of things, really, and that would be too much to store downstairs. If I had a specific project in mind, maybe, but..."

"Well, just let me know if you want it for anything," Mrs. Cheng said cheerfully. "It's not a problem to bring thing down." She finished up a cupcake with a flourish and set her piping bag down. "And done! Ahead of schedule, even, since Marinette took over the counter- hello, how can I help- oh! Adrien, dear, how nice to see you!"

Marinette spun back around on her seat and nearly toppled over, saved only by her dad catching her as he passed by. Sure enough, Adrien was in the bakery, looking a bit uncertain of himself as he approached the counter.

"Are you hear for the pastries or for Marinette?" Mrs. Cheng asked cheerfully, wiping her hands off on a damp towel before joining Marinette at the counter. "Or both?"

"I- well, I, uh," Adrien started, and then clearly gave himself a shake. "Er- both, I guess? Fencing finished early and Nathalie gave me permission to hang out with my friends. So I thought that I could maybe come hang out with Marinette, unless you're busy?"

Her parents both beamed. Marinette hoped that she wasn't as red as she felt.

"We're not busy at all," Mrs. Cheng assured him. "Marinette was just hanging out down here because she was bored-"

"And because I wanted to help!" Marinette added on. "I wasn't just bored!"

"-but the rush is over now, so if she wants to go, she's more than free to," Mrs. Cheng continued, as though Marinette hadn't spoken. "It'll probably be a bit boring down here, actually, now that the lunch rush has passed."

Adrien perked up at that, his gaze swinging to Marinette. "So, do you wanna hang out?"

Marinette nodded, unable to keep herself from smiling. Her disappointment from earlier about not being able to hang out with the other girls was gone, because now- well, now she was getting to hang out with one of her friends, too.

"Great!" Mr. Dupain boomed. He bustled around the shop, picking out an assortment of goodies one by one and dropping them into a bakery bag before shoving it into Adrien's arms. "A snack for the two of you. Will you be going upstairs, or out to the park, or...?"

Adrien's eyes flew to Marinette at once, obviously giving her the choice. Marinette didn't have to think about it for long.

"The park might be nice, if there's an open bench," Marinette said. She pushed herself to her feet and hopped over to the sink to wash her hands. Her mom had talked to her before about forgetting to wash her hands after handling money and before eating something, and it wasn't a mistake she was going to make again. "I've been inside too much."

"Even if there's not a bench, I'm sure people would move so that you can sit down," Adrien assured her. He waited for her to make her way around the counter, then led the way towards the door. "And if not- uh, could you sit on the ground if I helped you down and back up? Except no, we don't have a blanket-"

"Oh, we have a picnic blanket in the hallway!" Mrs. Cheng called after them. "You could always put it on the bench, too, if that's where you end up sitting. It would just make things more comfortable."

With that, she dashed into the back. A minute later, she returned with a brightly striped blanket that Marinette recognized from more than a few picnics in the past. Adrien took it with a quick thanks, and then they were back on their way.

As it turned out, all of the benches were very full. Adrien glanced around, then glanced questioningly at Marinette.

"I can sit on the ground," Marinette decided after a moment. It would be more pleasant if she and Adrien got to sit on their own blanket instead of being crammed onto a bench with some random grandparents. "I'll just need to have my leg stretched out."

Adrien nodded, then set out to find the perfect place to set out the blanket. It took a few minutes to pick out a spot that wasn't near playing kids, or near a garbage can, or too close to the noisy street, but finally he got the perfect spot. Marinette held the bakery bag while Adrien meticulously spread the blanket out, and then they took a few minutes to get Marinette comfortably settled.

"It's the perfect day to be in the park, really," Adrien commented as he sat down as well, making sure that he wouldn't jostle Marinette's leg. "I'm glad that we decided to go outside. I've been inside all day, between homework and piano and fencing. And a snack!"

Marinette had to laugh at that as Adrien eagerly tore into a croissant. "Ah, the real reason why you came to see me and not Nino!"

"No, it's just- Nino offers snacks, too!" Adrien protested. "I mean, maybe the snacks are crackers or packaged cookies, but he does offer snacks. I-" He worried his lip, clearly considering his next words. "I overheard yesterday when the other girls were planning to get together and you couldn't join them. And I know how much it sucks to not be able to go out with friends, and I know you hadn't been hanging out with them before as much as usual because of Lila, so when I had the gap in my schedule..." He shrugged, glancing away sheepishly. Marinette felt her heart skip a beat and her cheeks flushed red.

Really, how was she not supposed to be heads-over-heels for him when he said stuff like that? It was so sweet.

"Anyway, I like hanging out with you," Adrien added shyly, picking at his croissant before taking another bite. "So it wasn't a hard choice."

"I'm glad you came over," Marinette told him, finally finding her words even as her cheeks flared even redder. She was sure that she looked like a stop sign by now, but- well, Adrien was always kind enough to overlook that. "I don't know how you manage when your father doesn't let you come out with us. I was about to keel over with boredom."

"You, bored? Whenever I've seen you before, you always seem busy." Adrien polished up his croissant and glanced over at her. "I mean, Class President duties, commissions, your own projects, homework..."

"I've had more down time than usual lately," Marinette admitted. She pulled out a cookie and nibbled at the edge. "And no commissions, so I don't have my sewing things downstairs where I can use them. I suppose I could look ahead and see what duties I might have coming up as Class President and just get it all done ahead of time if I can. Then I can have more free time once my leg is better." She winced. "...in theory."

"Yeah, plans get thrown off really easily with akumas and Hawkmoth around, don't they?" Adrien glanced over the box of goodies, then picked out a cookie for himself. "If you need any help with that stuff, let me know. I think there's a pretty good chance that Nathalie would let me help, since student government stuff is, like, really nice on a resume. Never mind that I wouldn't put it on a resume since it would just be helping you, not doing all of the heavy lifting with the planning like you do, but she might think that it would make me more inclined to maybe run myself in the future."

"Honestly, if you wanted to take Alya's place and run with me, I don't think she would complain," Marinette told him. "She's grumbled more than a few times about paperwork taking away time from the Ladyblog or her time with Nino." Honestly, Alya would jump at the chance to both offload her responsibilities as Vice President and to push Adrien and Marinette together. And- well, as long as Alya didn't then decide to linger in a doorway or by the window and wriggle her eyebrows at Marinette and make her nervous, then Marinette was sure that it would go pretty well.

If Alya decided to make things weird, then- well, then they might have a bit of a rocky start, but they would recover in time. Hopefully.

Adrien laughed. "Tempting, since I'd get to hang out with you more. I'd have to run it past Father and Nathalie first before I could promise anything, of course."

Marinette grinned. Maybe Adrien would forget about it by the time Class President elections rolled around again, or he might decide that he was actually too busy to take on anything else, but- well, it would be nice to daydream about all of the time that she and Adrien would get to spend together if they were working together on the class representative duties.

Maybe paperwork wasn't very romantic, but- well, relationships weren't built entirely on romance, were they? Besides, if it would allow Adrien to come and hang out more...

"So what all is involved in the Class Representative job?" Adrien asked, polishing off his cookie and leaning back on his hands, looking over at Marinette. "Like, planning class parties?"

"Class parties, keeping track of birthdays and whatnot, field trips, helping organize school fundraisers," Marinette told him. She sighed. "Honestly, I don't think all of that is supposed to be my duties. The other representatives don't really do the birthdays or the field trips, that's all on their teachers. I don't know why Ms. Bustier does it differently."

"Maybe she thinks it'll help in the future?" Adrien suggested, but even he didn't sound particularly convinced. "...or maybe she's behind on grading because of akuma attacks and so she's, ah, delegating tasks."

"To her students, who sometimes fall behind on homework because we get extra homework to keep up with the curriculum even with akuma attacks," Marinette sighed. "Naturally."

Adrien made a face. "That- yeah, that's not very fair. But at least that probably means that you'll have less to do if you stay Class Rep next year, right? New school, new teachers, hopefully ones that will organize their own field trips."

"Oh, I hope so." Their schoolwork was only going to get more difficult in lycée, and Marinette already sometimes found herself running short on time because of all of her responsibilities. And- well, she liked being able to help out her classmates as Class President, but it was just so much work sometimes.

"But that's months away still," Adrien added before Marinette could think about it too much. He nudged her good foot with his toe, smiling over at her. "So, what's new? How was the bakery earlier?"

Several hours later, the last of the treats had been polished off and Adrien finally had to leave. He looked startled when Nathalie texted him, apparently not having realized how much time had passed, and then immediately moved to help Marinette up.

He was so careful as he helped her to her feet, making sure that she wouldn't accidentally put any weight on her bad leg. Marinette was sure that she was turning red again as Adrien wrapped his arms around her to lift her up, his cheek and chin pressing into her shoulder because of the way he was holding her. The moment passed once she was on her feet, though, and Adrien made sure that she was steady on her feet before stepping back to a gentlemanly distance and turning his attention to getting the blanket up and folded.

"I'm glad we got to hang out," Adrien told Marinette as they headed back to the bakery. He held the door open for her, letting her through in front of him. His bodyguard's car was already parked in front of the bakery, and Adrien waved to him before ducking in long enough to pass the picnic blanket back to Mrs. Cheng. "See you on Monday?"

"Yeah," Marinette agreed, beaming after him. "See you on Monday."

  "I can't believe you were on a date with Adrien and didn't text me and let me know! I could have gotten photos!"

"It wasn't a date, Alya," Marinette said for what felt like the fifth time. Her best friend had come over to work on homework together in the peace of the Dupain-Cheng apartment, since her younger sisters had friends over and the Césaire apartment was currently- well, loud. Her mom had apparently mentioned Adrien having come over the previous day when Alya passed by her, and now Alya wouldn't drop it. "It was two friends hanging out."

"By yourselves, in the park, chatting for hours over fresh pastries! That's totally date material!"

Marinette fixed Alya with a long look. "You do realize that the pastries came from my parents, right? It wasn't like Adrien went out and bought some fancy pastries for the express purpose of eating them with me."

Alya groaned, practically slamming her palms over her face. "Ugh, you two. Fine, fine, it 'wasn't a date', whatever you say. But it sounds so cute! I bet you're going to start dating soon, though! He's obviously interested in you."

Marinette flushed at the thought, wondering if she really was close to getting to date Adrien. He had been really, really sweet during their impromptu picnic, and they had never hung out quite like that before. But Adrien was also just a really nice person, and he had told her that he wanted to come over because he knew what it felt like to not be able to go out with friends. So maybe it wasn't a great idea to start getting too excited and get ahead of herself.

"Either way, I would have loved to get pictures of you two," Alya added on after a moment, homework still forgotten in her backpack on the floor. Whether or not she would actually remember it- the reason why she had come over in the first place- still remained to be seen. "And all of us would have loved to see it-"

Marinette groaned at the idea of all of the other girls spying on her and Adrien hanging out and chatting. That just... well, it sounded stressful, and like something that would absolutely result in her stumbling over her words and feeling off-kilter and uncomfortable.

She was absolutely not going to tell Alya ahead of time next time that Adrien came over to hang out. There was absolutely no way that Marinette wanted people (especially people who weren't her parents) watching her every move when she was alone (or "alone") with Adrien. Every move, every word, every smile and laugh and sharing of cookies would be analyzed and over-analyzed.

She also wasn't going to bring up Adrien's offer to take over Alya's role as Vice President. Alya would definitely read far too much into that.

"Anyway, we missed you on our outing after you had to hang up," Alya added after a minute. "I know it would have been hard for you to keep up and enjoy it as much in person, though. We're trying to figure out something for next time that wouldn't involve walking or standing around, but I don't know when that'll even be yet. Nora's out of town next weekend, so I might be pretty busy with babysitting, and we don't know what the weekend after that will look like."

"If we're too busy, I might be off crutches by the time we go out again," Marinette joked, opening up her notebook. Even if Alya was completely distracted by the news about her and Adrien, she could still try to be productive. "Then there wouldn't be any additional planning needed!"

"Oh, don't exaggerate!" Alya laughed. "We're not that busy. You've still got a ton of time in the cast."

Marinette could only groan. It seemed like the days were inching by in slow motion sometimes. Cast-off day seemed ages away. "Oh gosh. Don't remind me."

"Hey, I'm sure the time will flash by and the cast'll be off before you expect," Alya told her. She grinned, suddenly impish. "And look on the bright side- think about how much attention Adrien's been giving you ever since your leg got broken! Maybe you'll end up wanting to keep the cast on a little longer."

Marinette snorted. Somehow, she really doubted that.

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Beantown Bailout Job

leverage 2.01

(see link for a video on this episode that captured literally all of my reactions and will undoubtedly capture yours too)

Manager: You found that stolen Monet in Florence, saved your company a $25 million payout. That identity-theft case, you saved $15 million.

+

nate sees .00005 seconds of normal life and yeets the hell out

- - - - -

(The lobby is teaming with people when Nate walks in. A sign shows that Sophie is starring in The Sound of Music. He sees Parker at the ticket counter)

Parker: Picking up for one.

Ticket Agent: Last name?

Parker: Parker.

Ticket Agent: First name?

Parker: No. Just one name.

Ticket Agent: Great. I hope you enjoy it.

(Parker turns to see Nate across the room and smiles)

Hardison: Parker?

(Parker looks to her right to see Hardison. The sound of Eliot’s laughter from across the lobby draws Hardison’s attention)

Eliot (to women): All right. After the show, then. I'll see you.

(Eliot turns and sees the others. The all meet in the center of the lobby)

Nate: Eliot.

Parker: Nate.

Hardison: Parker.

Eliot: Hardison.

Eliot: So, how have you...

Nate: Good. Good. Great. You?

Eliot: Fantastic. Six months of traveling. Did a couple of big jobs.

Hardison: eah. Me, too. Great off time. Well, I bought an oxygen tank. Cool, nice.

Parker: Yeah, super. I've been really super, too.

Nate: Yeah, she didn't tell me that you guys would..

this is that dinner scene from shrek 2 right???

also, parker’s lil smile when she sees nate, hardison’s big smile when he sees parker + hardison says parker and eliot says hardison = ot3 acknowledging each other

- - - - -

Hardison: I didn't know you could sing.

Sophie: You know. Not as well as I act, but, yeah.

Hardison: Oh

- - - - -

Sophie: Uhhgh…

Hardison: Yeah, you know, I'm sure the reviews will be...

(Sophie hands Hardison her phone)

Hardison: …on the news website already.

Parker (grabs the phone): Really? Wow. "Never before has a production of 'The Sound Of Music' made me root for the Nazis. (Hardison gestures something like ‘WHY’ to Parker and she gestures something like ‘JDJSJSJ SORRY’ back)

POOR SOPHIE LMFAO

- - - - -

Sophie: No. No, no, no. Stop it. There is nothing you can say that's gonna make me feel better.

Parker: I know what could make you feel better. We should steal something.

Nate: No, no.

Sophie: Yes! We could do it together.

Eliot: I like this. Get right back up on the bike.

Parker: Bike of crime.

Nate: Didn't you earlier tell me how great your new lives were?

Parker: Yeah, well, I stole the Hope Diamond.

Nate: What?

Parker: (Everyone looks surprised. Eliot looks like he is going to say something.) And then I put it back. Yeah, 'cause I was bored. Didn't care.

Hardison: I spent three days hacking the white house e-mail. No buzz.

Nate: See?

Hardison: But we are doing some pretty hinky stuff in Pakistan. Hinky.

Sophie: Look, I'm miserable. They're miserable. (to Eliot) Okay, what have you been doing the last six months?

Eliot: I was in Pakistan. (Parker grins)

Hardison: You see what you did? You took the world's best criminals, hitter, hacker, grifter, thief, you took us, and you broke us.

Nate: No, no. I-I, what I did, I taught you how to help people. That's all.

Parker: Exactly.

Sophie: Yeah.

Eliot: This is the problem, with being the good guy. It gets under your skin.

Sophie: Look, Nate. You have to have some poor, little lost soul somewhere who needs a little extra-legal aid.

Nate: Look, we all agreed that we'd just move on.

Sophie: Yeah, but we're... We're thieves.

Nate: Not me. Look, it was great. It was fun. It was wonderful while it lasted, but I was drunk most of the time, to be honest with you. And I… A little crazy.

Eliot: Yeah, but you were good.

Parker: You were the best.

Hardison: We were the best.

Parker: Yeah.

Nate: Listen, really, I owe all of you. And I'm very proud of what we did. I-I really am. But I got my life back, and I intend to keep it that way. And I am not a thief. (stands up) It was great to see all of you. Good night. (leaves)

BIKE OF CRIME + also bruh let them have their found family, nate

- - - - -

(Nate enters the dim room and looks around. Behind him, the Thug opens the door and comes at him with a knife. Nate sees the reflection in a pot lid and turns to block the blow. Sophie comes in behind the Thug)

Sophie: Oi! Does your mother sew? (headbutts Thug) Stitch that.

(Thug runs out of the condo. Nate runs out after him, but Thug gets away. As he reenters the condo, Sophie hits him in the head with a cookie sheet and Nate falls to the floor)

Sophie: Ah! Bugger

she tried, your honor + her tough talk and then AH BUGGER

- - - - -

(the next morning, Nate wakes up on the couch to the sound of Parker eating. Parker is wearing a Nun’s habit, smiles and moves away. Sophie comes downstairs wearing Nate’s shirt)

Nate: That's my shirt.

Sophie: Yeah. I stayed the night to make sure you were okay. You what? But don't worry. I didn't look under your bed. I know that's where guys keep weird, kinky stuff.

Nate: There's nothing under my bed.

Parker (opens cupboard): This is all coffee.

Nate: Get out of there! (sees Hardison and Eliot at the table) What are you guys doing? (gets up) Come on, get out of here. Get all this stuff out of here. You're planning something. I know it. Come on. Get out of my house.

...

Hardison: Look, nobody else is gonna help that guy and his little girl. Okay, that's what we do. We help people. By the way, I compared Sophie's description of your attacker to the accident footage from the security camera.

(Hardison pushes a few buttons on the laptop and zooms in on the Thug’s face to begin a facial recognition search through various cameras in the area)

Hardison: Do you realize, on average, people are caught on security cameras 13 times a day? ATM cameras, traffic cameras. It's crazy, man, but we can track him. We can. Well, I lost him in this.

Eliot: Yeah, well, I found this empty briefcase belonging to a Matt Kerrigan at that intersection.

...

Eliot: Yeah, well, the problem is, these two cats went down to the safety deposit boxes.

Parker: Which is the only room in every bank, with absolutely no cameras.

Hardison: Which means we up, baby. (puts on a priest’s collar) They tried to kill Kerrigan for what was in the briefcase. We're gonna steal it back.

Eliot (laughs): She was dressed that way 'cause she's doing a con.

Nate: What, you thought she was dressed like a nun for no reason?

Eliot: It's Parker.

...

(Nate walks away)

Sophie (to Eliot): So, you going?

Eliot: I'm not going anywhere. The man has 700 sports channels.

Sophie: You want to see what he's got under his bed?

Eliot: N-no, I do not.

Sophie: Icky

- - - - -

(Parker opens her Bible to reveal a lock duplication kit with a depression in the plastic of the master key)

[Flashback]

(Parker takes the key from the Bank Manager’s pocket as Hardison talks, pressing the key into the form before replacing it into the Bank Manager’s pocket)

Hardison: And the children... The children thank you. They will send you a card just as soon as we buy them tiny pencils. And teach them how to spell. It's a two-step process, you see.

[Bank Vault]

Parker: Superglue and a heat-activated polymer to set it. Seven seconds, instant plastic key. (hands Hardison the Bible) Shake it.

Hardison: What?

Parker: Shake the bible.

Hardison: This is even more wrong.

(Hardison: takes the Bible and begins shaking it while Parker picks box 5076)

they’re so competent ugh

- - - - -

Hardison: I did look for you. For six months.

HE LOOKED FOR HER FOR SIX MONTHS

- - - - -

Parker: I think people are like locks. Really complicated and frustrating. But you can't force them. You have to take time and be fiddly.

Hardison: Fiddly?

Parker: You learn to be patient, and just wait until you hear the...

(the lock opens and the door swings wide)

- - - - -

(Hardison is sitting on the couch going through some paperwork and working on a laptop. Several boards have been set up with information about the case)

Nate: Now, this is not "gone." This is "more."

Hardison: Yeah, I, uh, I scanned the documents in Leary's box, but I wanted to print out a few pages.

Nate: I asked—I asked Eliot to get rid of this stuff. Now there's more stuff.

Hardison: Did you? Oh, we-we crossed, but didn't see each other. He didn't tell me.

Nate: Oh, that's how you're gonna play this?

Hardison: Oh, man. Look... (stands up and sniffs)

Nate: What?

Hardison: Is that... What is that aroma? That's that apple shampoo that's open.

Nate: You've been up in my shower, rummaging around?

Hardison: Man's in a strange bathroom, he's got a lot of time to kill... Nate, Nate, Nat-

I CANNOT

- - - - -

Nate: Grew up in the same neighborhood. The O'Hares are mobbed up. These are all mob businesses you're talking about here.

Hardison: Mob?

Nate: Where's Eliot?

Hardison: Oops.

Nate: What?

[Warehouse]

(Eliot is going through boxes when his phone rings. He answers)

Eliot: Yeah, Hardison. This is the third place I checked. It's all the same. What do you mean mob?

Thug: Hey!

(three men approach, one of them the Thug, who has his nose bandaged and is carrying a baseball bat)

Eliot: Oh, that mob. (hangs up)

hardison’s “whoops” followed by I HAVE TO WARN MY BOYFRIEND + in this episode we have eliot using a baseball bat as a weapon which is yet another piece in the continuation of eliot using things as weapons that are not supposed to be used as weapons

+ he apologizes to the guy that just had a nose job for beating him up and punching him in the nose he’s baby

- - - - -

(Nate opens the refrigerator to find it full of Hardison’s orange soda)

Nate: Seriously?

(Nate turns to see the island covered in food and dishes)

Nate: You know, guys, there is a dishwasher here.

Eliot: You're out of ice.

he literally can’t get rid of them + also I WONDER whose orange soda that is

- - - - -

parker robot dancing in the 80s jacket and looking DIRECTLY at eliot lmfao

- - - - -

Nate: What? Sophie, how do you catch mob guys?

Sophie: Ah, two glasses of Chianti and a story about my grandma in Sicily

- - - - -

Nate: Well, yeah. I mean, if you have a body in the trunk of your car, you're gonna drive under the speed limit, aren't you?

Parker: You know, when you're sober, your metaphors get creepier

- - - - -

eliot and parker sitting next to each other? cute

- - - - -

Hardison: Mr. Leary, I'm Detective Costello, with the Massachusetts State Police. This is Detective Costigan. I believe you met with our chief, Lieutenant Bonanno

more aliases to keep track of

- - - - -

Parker: We're investigating your colleague Matt Kerrigan's (air quotes) "car accident."

Leary: So you don't think it was an accident?

Hardison: Of course not. She did the finger thing. You got that. Everybody gets that.

Parker: Did I do it right?

Hardison: No. No. This guy just... (pulls picture from his pocket)

~ a few moments later ~

Parker: I did it right, didn't I?

Hardison: It was perfect.

Parker: I knew I did it right.

Hardison: It was beautiful execution. Absolutely.

Parker: Just like you taught me. I did it. (she smiles brightly)

Hardison: Yeah. Yeah, you did it. I like it. Yeah. (gives her a thumbs up)

SHES LEARNING IM SO PROUD OF HER

- - - - -

Eliot: Hey, this detonator - If I'm around the corner, is it still gonna be in range?

Hardison: Should be. I haven't worked out all the kinks yet. Sometimes the things just go off.

Eliot: Whoa, whoa, wait. Hey. I thought you said this thing was safe.

Hardison: Mostly. Mostly safe. I was very specific. Sometimes the frequencies get messed up.

Eliot: What frequencies, man? Huh? I got these things in my pants.

Hardison: Like, you know, a garage-door opener, a car alarm.

(a car alarm chirps then goes off, making Eliot jump. He moves away angrily)

Parker: What are the odds that Eliot's crotch will actually explode?

Eliot: Damn it, Hardison! (stalks off)

chaotic ot3

- - - - -

Sophie (shows passport): Annie Kroy.

O’Hare (grabs passport): Name's familiar.

Sophie: My family does business in North London with Terry Adams, and a couple of other organizations. We handle the money.

Nate (getting up): Yeah, see, what they do is they clean the money.

some people think that annie kroy is sophie’s true identity. I think, if anything, it would be her duchess alias but can you IMAGINE mob child sophie??? also, hi. im jackie and I wholeheartedly believe annie kroy has killed a man.

- - - - -

(Eliot is parked outside of the bank when Leary comes out, looking at files. Eliot hits a remote and the sound of gunfire fills the street as the squibs go off. People scream and Leary dives for cover. Eliot laughs and closes his window.)

chaotic eliot

- - - - -

Leary: And for that, the government hunts them down like dogs. People like me, we took billions from the banks. Billions. And what did the government do when they finally caught us? They wrote us a giant check and begged us to make it all better.

that’s disturbing

- - - - -

(Parker uses a taser on O’Hare and Hardison pulls up a recorder)

I think that was the first time parker tasered someone and we love to see it

- - - - -

Nate: So, how did you do it?

Eliot (gets up): Detonator, (holds up remote, reaches into his shirt and pulls out ketchup wrapper) ketchup.

Nate: Ah, the classics.

Sophie: Oh (hops happily), I love a good death scene

- - - - -

parker in a nun costume smelling money and saying “ahhhh” is certainly a mood

- - - - -

Leary: I was tricked. I was tricked. It wasn't me, you understand?

Bonanno: Somebody tricked you into bringing a briefcase full of evidence of your own crimes straight to the police? Come on, Mr. Leary. Nobody's that smart. Get him out of here

THEY ARE T H A T SMART

- - - - -

Zoe: Thank you. There are wolves in the world. But sometimes they're the good guys, I guess.

I didn’t like that whole metaphor because it felt kinda cliche but whatever, they ARE the good guys

+ bruh why is hardison wearing glasses??? him and eliot will sometimes wear them and honestly I don’t know who actually needs them and for what at this point ???

- - - - -

(Nate enters the condo to find that Hardison has installed five of six large monitors on the wall and is working on the last one)

Nate: Whoa, whoa. What are you doing there?

Hardison: I'm running this cat 5 cable to the--

Nate: Oh, no, no, no, no. You don't understand. No, I don't want to have these monitors in my apartment. No.

(Parker opens the door and walks in carrying a large painting)

Parker: Coming through!

Nate: No, these must go. What? No! Parker, no! Not that paint--I don't ever want to see that painting.

Parker: (shaking the painting as she talks in a funny voice) “Hi, I'm old Nate, and I live here, too."

Nate: You can't just break in here and start hanging--

Hardison: Oh, yeah, yeah. For repairs or renovation, your landlord has full access to your dwelling. It's in the lease.

Nate: What are you doing reading my lease?

Hardison: I bought the building.

Nate: You bought the... You're my landlord?

Hardison: Yeah. (holds his hand out for a fistbump) Yeah.

(Nate looks away, then hears the sound of a chain saw. He turns to see the end of a chain saw come through the wall)

Nate: No, no! No! No!

(Part of the wall falls to reveal Eliot holding the chainsaw and grinning. Nate coughs and both Parker and Hardison put their arms around him)

CHAOTIC OT3 + THEIR TIRED DAD

[mcrmadness]

Woohoo, can’t have a day without anxiety now, can I?

CW talking about teeth and dental stuff, again.

I have talked about my tooth here before and they will have to do root canal therapy for that. But the next free time is only after over 2 weeks. Some days I feel that I can do that just fine, but then some days I wish I could get that started earlier so that this all would be also over sooner.

Right now the tooth isn’t painful really, it can feel cold and hot but I mainly just feel it as a pulse rather than as a pain. But there’s something else about my face that I don’t know if it’s the tooth, my neck muscles or maybe a hormone pimple. These hormone pimples are usually not like regular pimples but they are somewhere under the skin and they are really sore and when I have one next to my mouth, it often causes similar sensations to my face and makes it feel like it’d either be getting numb.

My mom massaged my back a little the day before and I think it helped because yesterday I was actually feeling fine and my face felt okay. But today my face feels super annoying again, it feels like my cheek was swollen when it’s not. Or like something would pull my face muscles or like something was poking the gums. But all these feel on he area where the problem tooth is NOT. I know the nerves of the upper jaw can still cause sensations to the lower jaw but this is just super frustrating because I don’t know if this is just stiff neck, a hormone pimple or the tooth or maybe everything combined.

I just keep worrying about the tooth because what if I should get it fixed asap. I keep worrying about what if the 2 weeks is too long time and everything goes really bad before that.

I keep worrying about everything I do now. If I feel tired, I start worrying that it’s not regular tiredness but what if I’m sick because of the tooth? If my arms shake, I think it might just be something I did but then I start worrying about what if it’s a symptom of something dangerous. Right now I started having anxiety because I felt like I’m too tired to breathe and I failed to recognize if it’s just psychosomatic or if it’s just because I just drank milk after food and am full and sometimes being full feels like that too because I’m getting in bad shape because I don’t like moving. (And I hate it.)

I also hate it when people who have had heart problems, always say that they have been feeling sick. In Finnish they just say that they felt “bad”. And I have absolutely no clue what that means because it can mean both: to feel sick to your stomach, or not feel at your best in general. And every time I start feeling something negative physically, I start to panic because I can only feel good or neutral in order to not get worried. Sometimes I get anxiety from freezing, from shaking, from feeling sick, from having nausea, from being dizzy... I just freak out so easily and my mission will immediately change to: make the feeling go away. That’s why I eat even if not hungry, because sometimes low blood sugar does those feels. Or I drink water. And I get even more anxious if food and water don’t help, but especially if I know that I just have eaten and I know it can’t be low blood sugar. That’s when I start to enter the real panic mood because I need to get the off feeling away asap but I don’t know how because I don’t know what causes it and I start freaking out.

Right now I’m wondering if I should go to my parents’ house again. I have been playing a video game and my neck and back got REALLY stiff but I just don’t know what to do. The past couple of weeks I focused on drawing something just to enter the flow mode/hyperfocus because that makes me forget about my physical from completely and I could stop feeling my mouth and tooth/teeth that way. Right now I don’t know if it’s better to “massage” my face and neck and back to find something that could be linked to the sensations on my face or if I should just try to let it be and see if it will calm down on its own if I don’t constanty irritate it.

Another thing I’m obviously worried about is this whole covid situation and how you cannot wear a mask at a dentist’s appointment because it’s literally someone’s job to investigate the insides of your mouth. And this dentist seems to have lots of customers and she’s not here this week and I really hope that she doesn’t travel anywhere because I want my tooth fixed but preferrably without the covid. I also have to take so huge amount of antibiotics before the dentist’s appoinment because of my heart defect and it’s so big amount that it also kills lots of good bacteria and I THINK it also lowers my own immune system somewhat and I need to be super careful and stay the fuck away from people until my system gets back to normal, so that I won’t catch the covid or any other flu or so. And that’s not all because I have to visit the denstist at least twice for the root canal therapy and that means it’s about 2 weeks until the appointment after the next one, and I have to take the antibiotics again.

Already the previous appointment, altho it was just a checkup, has given me some anxiety because of getting my mouth and nose “exposed” to the air in a public space when I can’t know if anyone with (invisible) covid has been sitting there, breathing the same air as the people who work there.

My mouth really chose the worst time for this all. I try to keep myself distracted so that I’d feel my mouth less and the time would go by faster. I didn’t believe I’d ever say this but I can’t wait for the root canal therapy. I just want this all to be over asap and my mouth back to normal.