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n0bamak1s · 3 years

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lazy days - maki zenin x reader

request: “Could you maybe do a maki x reader fluff? Like maybe just a lazy day playing video games or something like that.” - @mvddison99

summary: after you shut off her alarm clock so she can get some rest, maki reluctantly agrees to a lazy day with you, and ends up enjoying it much more than expected. (genre: domestic-ish fluff, slice of life)

warnings: some swearing but it’s mostly just pure fluff!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i did NOT plan to make it this long lol i’m just a sucker for writing maki! i didn’t really explicitly state what the reader and maki’s relationship is so it can be read as an established relationship or not depending on what you like! i had a ton of fun writing this so hopefully y’all like it! :)

maki zenin doesn’t do ‘lazy days’. not willingly, at least.

when you’d told inumaki of your plan to shut off her alarm clock to get her to sleep in and take a day off, he couldn’t help thinking you must have some kind of death wish to do that. you’d argue that you were staging an intervention in the name of self care. he knew the reason you’d gone to him with your idea was because he couldn’t talk any sense into you.

he also knew that you actually just wanted maki to take a day off so you’d have an excuse to hang out with her in your pajamas all day.

despite the countless times gojo would use a day off as an incentive during your missions, when you finished you’d always be greeted by the same sheepish smile and excuse as to why your day off would be pushed back. for a grown man, he sure was childish when it came to planning stuff. in contrast to the groans of disappointment that came in response from you, inumaki and panda, maki never seemed phased by the extra days you’d spend sparring in the blistering sun. while gojo moved his hands wildly as he apologized, she’d simply shrug and swing her weapon of choice over her shoulder with a bored expression on her face. gojo always seemed relieved when she’d interrupt his plea for forgiveness to a group of teenagers to ask him when the next mission was.

over the past two weeks or so, you’d begun to notice the semblance of exhaustion around maki, one you weren’t even sure she was aware of. her glasses emphasized the purple tinted bags lining her eyes, and her nose was dusted with a sunburn that was oddly reminiscent of that momo girl from kyoto. they were subtle changes in the way she carried herself as well, in the way her shoulders slumped ever so slightly when she rested the wooden ends of her weapons on them. it was such a slight difference that it seemed only you could know so quickly.

so it’s not hard to imagine the joy that flashed across your face when you realized your plan in unplugging her school issued alarm clock had been successful. before then, you’d only woken up before maki once, due to an early morning mission with inumaki. that day, when surprise flashed across your face at the sight of maki awake at just 6 a.m on a saturday, now seemed a contrast to your current state. the clock read 10 a.m as you were interrupted from mulling over your breakfast with inumaki and paves with the sound of steps shuffling against the floor, followed not soon after by maki, clad in baggy plaid pants and a loose fitting tee shirt. you watched as she stretched her arms above her head, making her shirt ride up slightly from the waistband of her pants. a part of you felt as if you’d gotten lucky to see her in that moment, with her green hair cascading past her shoulders, and her yet to be brushed bangs messy as they slightly masqueraded her eyes like a sheepdog overdue for a trim. as she rubbed her eyes into focus, her gaze landed on you, clearly trying to stifle a smile for whatever reason.

“what’re you so happy about?” her voice was raspy as she straightened her posture.

oh, you were definitely lucky to see her like this.

“sleep well?” you raised an eyebrow with a teasing tone. she could practically hear the smug grin threatening to stretch across your face. had it not already been obvious who the culprit was, that would’ve been a dead giveaway of the way her stolen batteries from her alarm clock were collecting dust on your bedside table. she sent a lazy glare your way, but there was clearly no malice behind it.

“if i say i did, will you leave me alone?” her tone was almost playful as she stepped towards you, bending her knees to be at eye level with you while you sat. she probably didn’t notice that she wasn’t nearly as intimidating with her old pajamas and messy hair.

“no can do.” you no longer held shame in the catlike grin on your face. “gojo is finally letting us have that day off he always promises, and i’m not letting you use some excuse about being ‘too busy with training.’” those last few words were spoken with a monotone infliction in a weak attempt to poke fun at her almost robotic training schedule.

a roll of her eyes, but she made no point to move from her position. when she crouched down to your sitting form, her eyes remained focused on you despite the sleepiness still swimming in them. your noses were mere inches apart.

“and if i do?”

“i already told gojo to lock up the weapons, plus everyone else is occupied with relaxation.” you feigned sheepishness.

“oh noooo, i’m sure it’d be impossible to make it past his advanced security system.” her voice oozed of sarcasm and her head tilted slightly, a smirk daring to sneak past her lips.

the staring match you were unaware you’d been putting so much effort into was interrupted by a groan from inumaki. he made a face of disgust in your direction as you both turned to face him. if he could, you were sure he’d mutter something annoyedly about you two needing to get a room. your face contorted to send some sort of distorted glare his way as he got up to leave the room.

maki cleared her throat awkwardly, now acutely aware of the distance (or lack thereof) between your faces, courtesy of inumaki.

“by the way, if you don’t take a break, gojo says he’ll just make you take one during our next mission!” the grin on your face stretched almost cartoonishly at the dejected look in response to your declaration.

she was standing now. “i’ll do it, but only because you’ve already set my day back by a few hours, and so i don’t miss anything important later.” though you didn’t miss the corners of her mouth turning up as she averted her gaze.

to her surprise, you let out a soft sigh of relief in response. “thank god, my last resort would have been to make you go to training with the kyoto students instead.” she cringed wordlessly in response as she pulled a cup of yogurt from the fridge.

“what do you want to do so bad that’s got you so pushy anyways?” she sat with her legs spread apart as she ate her breakfast.

a mischievous gleam danced across your face. “well i was cleaning out my dorm the other day, and i may or may not have found my copy of mario kart.” your voice was triumphant, as if you’d just found the cure to a disease.

she looked thoroughly unimpressed in contrast to you holding down heaps of excitement. “never played it.”

your gasp of shock felt as if it could have woken up the whole school.

“maki…” your voice sounded accusatory, like a parent saying that they’re not mad, ‘just disappointed.’

“well it’s not like the zenin clan is exactly known for their expertise on video games, are they now?” she spoke matter-of-factly.

“and they’re clearly not known for having fun either, now you’d better eat up so i can beat your ass.” your competitive tone seemed to awaken a rivalry within maki, whose eyes suddenly became sharper with determination. you stifled a chuckle at the drive that came from your simple teasing.

“i wouldn’t get so confident just yet, no offense but i don’t think you’d be that hard to beat.” she teased, matching the mischievousness in your eyes, as she finished her cup of yogurt.

“oh it’s on maki!”

as you bounced down the hall to your dorm with maki in tow following breakfast, you took note of panda walking by, who seemed to do a double take of maki. she met his gaze, once again trying to look threatening despite her cozy attire. panda seemed unaffected by her glare, simply sending you a sneaky thumbs up, not going unnoticed by her.

“did everyone know about your little plan?”

“not everyone, per say. if i told megumi he’d have been a total buzzkill and told you.”

“oh how tragic that would have been.” without looking over your shoulder, you could tell she was rolling her eyes, but she did a bad job at concealing the smile that was evident in her voice.

“i know, where would you be without me?” you wiped fake tears from your eyes dramatically as you swung open the door to your dorm.

“not playing mario kart, that’s for sure.” she shrugged, feigning exasperation as she slumped on your bed. it was oddly domestic, this side of maki. it was the side of her with her hair undone, with her usual stiff uniform swapped for baggy pajamas, with her back flat against your rock solid dorm bed as she stared at the ceiling, eyes glazed over. it crossed your mind that you’d like to see her like this more.

but in case you didn’t get that chance, you were determined to make this moment last.

after a few moments of annoyance at how slow your wii loaded, and annoyance from maki at your complaining about it, considering that thing was clearly on its last legs, you were met with the flashing of the mario kart title screen. maki sat up to be met with your face brightening into a smile, making it hard for her to stop the matching one on her face. she found it hard not to get excited from the enthusiasm you had about this game, it gave her a sense of comfort that made her feel like she’d never have to worry about battling a curse again.

you handed her a controller, your fingertips brushing against her hand as you did so. her eyes flickered to yours with an impish delight to them.

“you’re going down.”

“oh?” you raised an eyebrow as you turned to click through character selections, shamelessly feeding into her competitive streak. after scrolling through the characters just long enough to annoy maki, you decided you’d play yoshi. she let out an over exaggerated sigh of relief when you’d finally decided, before turning her attention to do the exact same thing.

“rosalina, huh?”

maki glanced at you, before averting her eyes back to the screen. “what can i say? she’s hot.”

you put a hand to your heart dramatically. “oh maki, how you wound me. sorry i can't be her.” your little act was eerily similar to how the first years would act whenever there was even the possibility of megumi interacting with a girl.

“you’ve been spending too much time around gojo.” she scoffed at your antics while you waited for the crappy old wii to load the selection screen for tracks.

should i choose rainbow road just to fuck with her?

spoiler alert: you absolutely did choose rainbow road just to fuck with her.

you knew she’d never played before, so even if you did win, it’s mostly because you chose the most difficult track. but the competitive side of you didn’t seem to care. before starting the game, you moved so you sat next to maki on the bed, parallel to the tv screen. you guys sat shoulder to shoulder, yet maki still seemed totally relaxed.

“you’re going down.” she smirked, turning to face you, the second time that day her face was just inches from yours.

“i’d like to see you try and beat me, newbie.” you tilted your head towards her, a smug look painting your face as you leaned over to place your hands over hers, instructing her of the basics as you guided them over the buttons and joysticks of the controller. after all, it would be just cruel to make her go in completely clueless.

“thanks.” her eyes remained focused on her hands a few seconds after you’d removed yours from atop them, before her gaze travelled to meet yours. there was an uncharacteristically soft look on her face for just a moment, before she looked back to the screen. “but you’re gonna regret this when you eat my dust.”

“whatever you say, maki.” you muttered as the screen began to flash a countdown.

3…

2…

1…

START!!!

forget all that soft shit, you were gonna beat her ass.

your dorm room was filled with the sounds of the wii controller buttons being mashed, along with the background music of the game.

“SHIT!” you didn’t have to glance at her screen to know she’d swerved off the road and fallen, so you just smiled triumphantly in response.

when she was on the road again, you could feel her lean against your shoulder slightly as she turned. in your peripheral, you noticed how a few strands of green hair brushed against your shoulder as if it were yours. maki, on the other hand, seemed completely focused on winning the game, making her ignorant to how she practically leaned into you.

you were confident enough to know that you pretty much had this game in the bag as you kept your lead peacefully for quite a bit, that was until a certain smug looking girl next to you managed to score a blue shell.

“DAMN IT.” you watched as yoshi spun helplessly after being hit. “look at how sad he looks, you monster.” you glared ludicrously at her, to which she just snickered, but your feigned anger was quickly interrupted by the sound of the music speeding up.

FINAL LAP.

“already?” you were exasperated to see how close maki had gotten to you. looking to her, she remained with a determined look on her face, funnily enough, it was similar to the one she’d have while sparring.

you didn’t want to have to play dirty but…

ah, who were you kidding, you totally wanted to play dirty!

“hey, maki.” your voice was husky from strain of your cries of distress when you fell behind. you leaned into maki the same way she had earlier, with your leg practically on top of hers, and your head leaning oh so casually on her shoulder. she seemed to stiffen for a moment.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

jackpot.

swerving with your controller, you’d managed to knock her rosalina straight off the track, giving you a clear path to the finish line. you knew that making her all flustered just to get ahead had to be some kind of cheating, but you couldn’t deny it was so worth it to see the way her face flushed from a mix of embarrassment and anger at losing.

when you reached the finish line, it was hard to contain the laughter that came bubbling up out of you. before you could help it, the repressed giggles turned into a full on belly laugh as you leaned onto her shoulder for support.

“you should’ve seen your face maki!” you managed to get out between laughs. she simply pushed you off of her, though it was clearly as soft as possible. she held onto your shoulder so you were forced to be at eye level with her.

she opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, you lifted your head to make eye contact, your mouth in a tight line as you tried to hold back more laughs.

“you’re pretty good for a newbie though, you know.” you leaned into her touch, too focused on her to tease her over the animation of yoshi with his gold trophy playing on the screen.

“yeah and you’re pretty good for a cheater.” she scoffed, but it only elicited more laughter from you, gripping on the hands she had on your shoulder for support.

she wanted to keep up her front of mock seriousness, but the way you melted into her in this moment left her no room for her mock anger.

it was rare that you saw maki zenin laugh, but in this moment, it just felt so natural to you. it seemed to rise up out of her, like a soda can being shaken up before opening, it came out unrestrained as her shoulders shook ever so slightly.

you’d have to make a note to get maki to laugh more often.

“so…” you finally composed yourself, leaning your head on her shoulder, she looked at you without an ounce of the surprise she held earlier, as if you guys did this all the time. “do you wanna play again?”

she grinned wolfishly. “hell yeah.”

#maki zenin x reader #maki zenin #zenin maki x reader #zenin maki #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines

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epicspheal · 3 years

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Heya! I hope your doing well!

Ever since swsh gave the rivals something to do after the fact( something that I believe only happened to Blue), I can't help but think of the rivals prior who haven't. What do you think they end up doing? I know that Blue ends up becoming a gym leader, but would still be interesting what you plan for him too! :3

Hi there @ihopethisendswell! So actually, it's the norm typically for the rivals to have something to do, even if it's just continuing being a roaming trainers. Being a roaming trainer is still just as valid of a career path as other routes given the way the Pokemon world works, it's just not as solid of a career path as say gym leader or research assistant. Pokemon Sword and Shield is one of the only main games that really puts emphasis on the rivals' alternate careers paths as part of the plot outside of the gen 5 games. So like you have Blue who becomes gym leader and also helps his grandpa with his research by still be a roaming trainer (much to the frustration of anyone trying to challenge his gym). By the time of Sun and Moon/USUM he has ditched the gym to become battle facility which ultimately given his status as a former champion ends up being a much more fitting role. Granted he needed that time as a gym leader as long standing humbling exercise so it wasn't a bad call at all. Then we have Silver, who remains a roaming trainer, though he kind of mainly sticks around the Dragon's Den because he really wants to avenge that loss to Lance and show how much he has changed. Then we have Brendan/May (when not the protagonist) who end up going back to being full time assistants professor Birch. Wally on the other hand, is much like Silver in that he continue to be a roaming trainer, with him staying around the Battle Resort in ORAS with him eventually going to the Battle Tree by the time the SM/USUM events occur.

Barry also follows the roaming trainer route with him staying Stark Mountain in Diamond/Pearl and with Platinum he hangs around the Survival area.

Gen 5 is where the rival's future goals get the most attention, and was the best well done (SwSh in my opinion failed hard on the rival's goals bar Klara and Avery's). Bianca is still my favorite "how to do a future career path" ending in the entirety of series which is she really doesn't know. She ends up taking up a position as Professor's Juniper's assistant. However it's this linefrom Bianca in Pokemon Black 2/White 2 that I really enjoyed:

"Actually, I'm not sure being a professor's assistant is really what I want to do... But when I do the work, I have lots and lots of fun!" I really appreciated that they allowed Bianca to have doubts that this is her final career path. She's still a child and I can remember when I was her age (God, I sound so old) how many career paths I thought about in that time frame...and only one of those comes even remotely close to what I'm attempting to go back to school for. I liked how she's just trying to things and aiming for experiences while not trying to commit herself to one specific path. Now obviously this could theoretically be true for any number of the rivals as with the exception of Blue (and Wally although for some odd reason they didn't give him an aged up model considering he'd be just as old as Red and Blue are) we don't see them as adults and their ambitions could very well have indeed changed over the years. Then you have Cheren who after that scolding from Alder really begins to question his pursuit of strength and what he really wants to do. Cue 2 years later in BW2 where we see him as the Aspertia City gym leader as well a lecturer at the trainer's school. Fitting as it shows his desire and capabilities as a trainer but also allowing a more concrete goal than just pursuing strength but actually overseeing the future generations. And Hugh, another one of my favorite characters, concludes his story arc on forgiveness (since he had absolutely none for Team Plasma at the beginning of the story) ends up a roaming trainer but also helping the good side Team Plasma in Driftveil City reunite Pokemon that were stolen during the events of Black/White to their original trainers. So he has a goal and really touching one I might add, one of the few that doesn't revolve around battling or researching.

Then there's the XY rivals who were admittedly the most shafted. They all pretty much end up as roaming trainers except for Trevor who already had the aim of completing the Pokedex for Professor Sycamore and he continues to do so.

The no specific aim works the best, in my opinion, for Shauna as she really didn't have much of a goal to begin with outside of travelling/making memories, and much like I said with Bianca, it's okay for characters to not have a specific end game (although I personally see Bianca's route as better as although she isn't quite sure what she wants to do, she does take initiative and actively pursue a goal to gain experience and see if it's for her).

Serena/Calem (again when not the protag) having no set aim also works because they were most competitive of the group and continuing to be a trainer makes sense, but since they get hardly any development it just feels hollow and not satisfying. At least with characters like Wally, Silver and Barry who are roaming they all went through some major development. Lack of major development plus no end game just makes Serena and Calem unfortunately just not stand out.

Then Tierno...poor Tierno. He's my favorite XY character and I hate that screwed over so poorly. He actually a goal but the game doesn't allow us to see how a dance team would work. Kalos really could've benefitted from a Pokemon Contest/Musical like sidequest where Tierno shines in. So him being a roaming trainer is just...meh.

Now moving on to Gen 7 and best boy Hau (Hau's up there with Blue and Leon as one of my favorite Pokemon characters PERIOD). In both Sun and Moon and USUM he's a roaming trainer but I argue that Sun and Moon actually wrapped up his character better, despite USUM giving him much more in the way of development. By that I mean he explicitly mentions to the player that he wants become strong enough to find his father who fled Alola because the pressure of being the Kahuna's son was too much. So yeah he is still just a regular trainer, but he does have an explicit goal that goes beyond just trying to continue to measure up to the player. He also helps to train the reforming Team Skull grunts in the art of Alolan SuMo. In USUM this is erased for a more generic roaming trainer scenario unfortunately. Gladion's fate also changes depending on what version of the Gen 7 games you play. With Sun and Moon he ends up taking over as Aether's president but also still trains on the side as he is one of the challengers that can come for your title in the post game. In Ultra Sun and Moon he actually takes the "I'm going to Kanto" route instead of Lillie although he actually back and is essentially a roaming trainer since Lusamine's villainy was nerfed and therefore allowed to stay as Aether's president

Then there's Trace who ends up champion then loses it, but keeps on going in this endless circle of trying to reclaim it from the player. And then finally the Gen 8 rivals where we have Bede, Marnie, Klara and Avery all become gym leaders and Hop is a professor. Despite this cast having the most focus on their future paths since the gen 5 rivals I don't think they were done that well. Like Klara and Avery's worked, really well and they're probably the only rivals bar Trace and Blue who actually their goals (with them actually maintaining there dream status because their goal didn't involve becoming champion).

I've talked about Hop's on this post before but the lack of genuine foreshadowing just made his sudden declaration of wanting to be a Pokemon Professor just come out of nowhere. And honestly considering the fact that he had just come out of a depressive stage and still hadn't quite addressed his idolization issues I think he would've been served better with the Bianca route where yes he becomes Sonia's assistant, but it's clear that he's still trying to find his new path and that he's just open to trying out research rather than making a rather bold claim that this was his new career path. Either that or do better in the foreshadowing where he shows he has a much clearer interest in academia but feels like he needs to be a champion like his brother.

Then there's Marnie who I've also stated was kind of screwed over. Because she made it rather clear to Piers she didn't want to be gym leader (which makes sense given that she saw how that position screwed over older brother that she admires). She's pretty much doing this because she still has the motivation to save her hometown which is extremely admirable and mature. But also it's sad, like if she didn't have to do this, would she honestly still be gym leader. I think not, at least not immediately. Considering that gym challengers can still compete on the big stage with the champion's cup rematches and some even can be invited to the Galarian Stars Tournament, I think if I had of written that I would've focused on how with Leon as the head of MC he's going to actually work with Spikemuth to revitalize without shouldering the responsibility on one single person, especially a minor. And let her be a roaming trainer and live for herself and not continue to be Spikemuth's martyr.

Then there's Bede who quite vocally states when crashing the Champion's Cup that he was ready to retire. Like poor boy goes from being used as Rose's wishing star collector and fall boy to Opal's reirement plan. Like yes it's great that Opal actually remembers his name and gives him a support system and teaches him some discipline. But still it's kind of sad as he was very much okay with retiring but more or less gets goaded into staying because of the stadium audience.

So this post got way longer than I what it was going to be but hey that happens. But yeah too long don't read, all of the rivals do have a goal, even if a lot of them end up as roaming trainers. If I'm honest in most cases (bar the gen 6 rivals because they lacked developent) the roaming trainer thing works. Because they're kids and they still have their whole lives ahead of them and they don't need to have concrete job just yet. Especially because in some cases the concrete plan just doesn't always fit the character. It works best when it feels like an organic part of the story and not just trying to wrap things up for the sake of wrapping things up.

Finally, to answer your question about how I deal with Blue. Well in my Pokeverse (dubbed cactusverse in case you see me refer to my AU as this), I tend to be fairly canon compliant to the games. So after he loses his champion title to Red he becomes Viridian gym leader, slightly patches things up with grandfather by helping with the research and eventuallya head of the Battle Tree as an adult once he gains the Battle Legend Status (which is an actual legitimate title in cactusverse held currently only by him, Red and Leaf, although one of my OCs gets this designation as well). So nothing that really deviates from canon except for some offscreen events. Basically the battle legend status is bestowed if a major event happens that is taken care of by an already established powerful trainer. So there's a rather major plot thing the Kanto Trio gets involved in that once they take care of gives them their status.

Also for cactusverse there's the whole issue of the Viridian City gym. So it eventually it gets passed down to Trace as Blue has shown that he's become a bit too powerful to be a gym leader. He was honestly when he first got it probably still a bit overkill for an 8th gym leader, but he also really needed an attitude adjustment. And with Lance being a far better father figure to him than Oak could ever dream of, with the help of Agatha tried to rein in his egotistical and self important ways by giving him the position. Which worked very well. Still in cactusverse there's rules on the win percentage a gym can have and that's determined by position. Win too many for your rank and you get moved, vice versa if you lose too many, and sometimes you might even lose your position. The first and last gym leaders are always the most at risk of losing their status. This actually happens to Wallace, Iris and eventually Raihan because they just end up exceeding the strength of most challengers who try to challenge them. Hence why all three of them end up champions at some point cactusverse (Raihan does not become Galar's champion, but Johto's champion since I really like the idea of him spreading his wings beyong Galar).

Blue between the time of BW2 and SM had ended up getting to a point that no one had gotten a gym badge off of him in a couple of years which is unacceptable by league standards and he would've gotten booted out sooner had Lance not personally asked my OC Terra to come kick his butt and get a badge off of him. And cue possibly the most iconic and brutal gym battles to have ever gone down in a region of outside of Galar because two heartbroken champion tier trainers, who broke each other's heart is a recipe for a frightening battle. Lance happened to referree that match and might be a little traumatized. Terra won and he was able to give out his last badge before Red came back from his latest global trip and said let's go to Alola.

#rival blue #rival marnie #rival hop #rival bede #rival silver #rival wally #rival barry #rival bianca #rival cheren #rival hugh #rival hau #rival gladion #ask epic spheal #rival klara #rival avery #rival trace

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 4 years

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please tell me your headcannons about the silly old traditions and funny hats and gowns worn at the Assassins Guild graduation ceremonies (bonus points: Vetinari occasionally attends as a distinguished alumnus; differences for those not taking the black) Downey has to make a speech

I love this ask, thank you so much. <3

Downey has added feathers to the hats because it’s Downey and he believes all hats need a nice feather.

Vetinari: . . .I refuse.

Downey: It’s a single, white feather. Very stylish.

Vetinari: You can’t make these hats stylish. It’s impossible.

Downey: That will not stop me from trying.

First it must be said, I place most of my Discworld fashion firmly in the “anywhere from 1350-1650″ camp. Which means there’s lots of diversity but it’s all still very late medieval/early modern. This is a just-me thing though, as the books are all over the place with the fashion. There seemed to be a sense, in the early Watch books, that fashion went backwards (i.e. the more recent, to our mind, the clothes the more old fashioned they are on discworld) but that was quickly abandoned partway through the series and then it became a hodgepodge.

I still like the early modern feel and so am keeping to it. You can pry Downey’s stupid fucking doublet with its black pearl buttons and his slouchy hat with the Florentine “I’m very gay” feather from my cold, dead hands.

This got long so it’s under the cut.

Fashion first, because this is Downey and the Assassins we’re talking about after all.

So I imagine the hats that the professors/teaching staff wear are the slouchy ones like these. This is modeled off of hats that were in fashion when the guild first instituted formal graduation ceremonies which are relatively recent (for a given value of “recent” i.e. only circa 150/200 years ago).

The students graduating with the Black get the slouchy hats too. The ones who didn’t take the black get the more familiar flat board graduation cap. (Students 100% balance things on top of the flat board cap. This may or may not be desired by the cap-wearer.)

The formal, ceremonial gowns, indeed the entire outfit, for the teachers are hilariously ornate because of course they are. It’s the Assassin’s Guild.

All ceremonial gowns would be different iterations of the houppelande.

Beneath the gown there is the Assassin’s black of the doublet with a long-ish skirt beneath the belt (knee length? perhaps floor - but then it starts hitting gown territory). The doublet is form fitting at the top, belted off with the skirt below. Naturally, there are very nice buttons. The linen undershirt is white and can be seen at the collar and wrists. Leggings/tights/hose/whatever you want to call them, also black and worn with dress shoes, not their usual working day boots. All men present wear this, including Vetinari.

(Downey: No grey-blacks allowed on stage unless it’s representing your specialty and I know you didn’t specialize in astronomy and quantum mathmatics.

Vetinari:

Vetinari: But it’s My Colour.

Downey: Put the doublet on.)

Women on staff are also all in black, but it’s a dress over a kirtle which is over their undershirt which can be seen at the cuffs. The dress et al is also form fitting on the top with tightly buttoned (or laced) sleeves, then there’s the belt and full skirts after. Dresses are always worn with a high neckline. They too have formal dress shoes, though you can’t see them.

The ceremonial gowns are black with coloured lining and trim. I’m thinking the sleeves are large and pinned back to show the lining which represents the general field you’re a specialist in. So, green for biology; red for literature/linguistics; white for deportment/dancing; blue for history; yellow for mathematics or whatever. The lining can be dual-colours if applicable. The trim will accent the lining but doesn’t mean anything in particular.

The slouchy hats, however, tell you what the person specialized in with regards to their training i.e. poisons; knife work etc.

Some gowns have that long drapey hood that is purely for aesthetics, but not all. I’m thinking if your specialty is stealth (coughHavelockcough) you get it. But, of course, as a specialist in stealth you don’t want people knowing that so no one who qualifies for a drapey hood wears it.

Students wear simple black gowns with relatively short, deep cut sleeves so you can see more of their doublet beneath. Boys wear the usual doublet/hose combo (kind of like this) and girls the formal dress/kirtle combo (think this, but all black and with less jewels and tighter sleeves) beneath their graduation gowns.

All gowns on students and staff alike are closed in the front - either with buttons or ties.

Aside from the hat distinction between those who are taking the black and those who aren’t, the gowns for those taking the Black are all black and have the drapey hood. Those that aren’t taking the black have gowns trimmed with a dark colour - maybe blue? grey? something that blends but still is distinct.

Ceremonial Nonsense

The graduation is held in the great hall where the students usually dine on a day-to-day basis. Parents are allowed and all families get a “plus two” for grandparents or family friends or whatever.

There are two separate ceremonies - the first is for those taking the Black. That’s the one where Downey forces Vetinari to give a speech as he is Guild Provost and one a Distinguished Old Boy etc.

Downey does his speech first and usually lines up those coming after him (Vetinari; Mericet; Lady T’Malia is what I have in my head. Though Mericet can usually convince Downey to sub in someone else as he is Too Old For This Shit).

For those taking the Black Downey will pepper in Fun Facts About Assassins and Helpful Pro Tips for Life (some of which are more helpful than others). Vetinari’s speech usually offers subtle rebuttals to Downey’s more outlandish life advice. Lady T’Malia’s is a universal favourite because she has the dry, disdainful wit of a person who has seen way too much nonsense in her life and has lived to continue to roll her eyes at it all.

Mericet, when he’s made to do a speech and can’t pawn it off on one of the younger staff, is always very short. His record time was 15 seconds wherein he got to the podium, looked somberly out at his soon to be former students, and said “All I can say to you is, good luck and don’t die” then he sat down. Downey could be heard to mutter: Really?? rather loudly.

Vetinari, more out of a desire to cause Downey some form of annoyance than anything else, will drone on for a long time and pepper in weird references only the headmaster of the guild will understand. He makes a few tiger jokes every year to which Downey, when he gets up to introduce the next speaker, will reply: “You really need to get over that”. No one knows what they’re talking about. However, the students always haaate it when Vetinari takes the podium. There is much sighing and sliding down in seats out of boredom.

The students are called up to the stage the receive their diploma in order of their name and it’s done by house (so viper house then black widow then poison dart frog or whatever they all are).

Weapons are expressly forbidden on all students after that One Unfortunate Incident back when Cruces was headmaster about which the least said, soonest mended.

Back when Downey and Vetinari were graduating, when weapons were allowed, all students were given a ceremonial sword and they got to wear it when they went up to take their diploma. Students still get a ceremonial sword (or dagger, depending on preference) but they are received after the ceremony.

The infamous ring is presented alongside the diploma.

For those not taking the Black, it’s still the same roster of speakers but it’s usually a faster ceremony (though, that is changing over the years as the Guild is sought out more and more as a general-purpose educational institution for parents seeking a classical education for their children).

Students in this group are also gifted a ceremonial sword but they’re allowed to wear theirs during the graduation ceremony because most can do nice, polite, gentlemanly dueling and not much else. Unlike their colleagues who can use it in increasingly diverse and experimental fashions.

After both ceremonies are complete there is a grand dinner with students and their families and much conviviality. Under Downey’s reign as headmaster the amount of “accidental deaths” that occurred at this dinner have decreased dramatically. Mostly because unlike previous headmaster, Downey thinks it a waste of a good education to knock someone off so soon. Also, it is deplorable manners and not civil.

(Vimes, “It’s also immoral.” Downey, “I fail to see your point, commander?”)

Wait at least a year or two until inhuming that One Guy who was A Class A Cunt During Maths. Or, if they’re really that bothersome, at least have the grace to wait until after the pudding has been served.

Pre-graduation tomfoolery

The graduating class, as a whole (well, those who survived the Run and those not taking the Black who haven’t accidentally fallen down the stairs), have two weeks between end of term and graduation and tend to run absolutely wild.

Downey’s main rule is: no one is inhumed, his dogs are left alone and nothing is set on fire; flooded; booby-trapped; or exploded etc.*

*see fine print for continuing list.

It is considered a grand tradition for each house to prank their house master. One year, students cellophaned everything in Mericet’s office. Including individual pages of books. Downey thought this absolutely Delightful. Mericet said, “that’s it, I’m retiring.” Which is, coincidentally, what he says every year.

Students will also strike up a very large game of Gotcha (i.e. Assassin) over the course of the intervening weeks between Term and Graduation. It used to be a very deadly endeavour but due to Downey’s new rule of “no inhuming until after graduation you daft kids” it’s just become a way to dunk on people.

These are also the weeks that students clean out their rooms which is always an adventure. Many will try and discreetly sneak out their illegal pot plants and shroom logs. Those that hide them in places that aren’t their room will have minor panic attacks because Lady T’Malia and other staff enjoy rounding up the plants ahead of the students and watching the fallout.

(Vetinari: I really should tell Vimes you have enough here to supply everyone in the city for a decade.

Downey: Leave my drug collection alone.)

There is a lot of Lady T’Malia and others being like, “You all do know we hid our illegal shit in the exact same places, right?’

Students will also throw end-of-year ragers in the common room which the staff pretend to know nothing about. These tend to get very messy very quickly. Downey will show up around 3am to shut it down, though. Because some people need to sleep and aren’t 18 anymore.

Anyway, that’s the long and short of my headcanon for Guild Graduation nonsense. All in all it’s a rowdy if somewhat bittersweet time. Downey secretly gets a little teary eyed over it. Aww look at his tiny little murderers going off into the big wide world. He remembers when they first arrived with knobbly knees and big eyes. His paternal side comes out in full force.

Vetinari: it’s very good you have hundreds of students and several dogs because I don’t know what you’d do without them since you’re basically 110% a dad.

Downey: i might have gotten married. What a horrifying concept.

Vetinari:

Vetinari: I have weird feelings about that which I am not going to explore in any great depth.

Thank you so much for the ask! <3 <3

#ask #reply #discworld #assassins guild #lord downey #vetinari #discworld headcanon

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auncyen · 4 years

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chasing dumb ideas from work lol

Ren’s Palace takes the form of a video game world, bright and zany. The Shadows have their silhouettes color-coded according to difficulty, the cognitions are NPCs repeating stock dialogue--Mona pops up surprisingly often, considering he and Ren haven’t really hung out since May--and some of the logic used to progress is worthy of a click-and-point game. Which means it’s lucky they have Futaba with them, since she’s the only Phantom Thief who understands the logic of click-and-point games. Still, it’s such a breeze that it takes only three hours to reach the center of the stage, and Oracle complains they never even left the hand-holding tutorial.

Ren’s shadow smiles at them when they arrive, and hands Ryuji a controller for the P4Storm his parents took away from him and sold after his arrest. “Wait--is this the Treasure?” Ryuji blurts. “We didn’t give you a calling card, though.”

“Hmm...we did talk with him about what he thought the distortion might be, though,” Futaba muses. “He’s the NPC who knows the most about our methods, so that might have accidentally triggered the effect. Good thing we moved fast.”

The shadow nods at Futaba’s explanation. “I didn’t want to give you guys too much trouble. You’re my friends, after all.”

“Dude, you gave us no trouble at all,” Ryuji says with a laugh. “You’re way too nice for your own good!” Still, in this case, he’s relieved it’s not coming to a fight. Ren’s a friend, and he hasn’t seemed all there lately--they might have curbstomped his shadow if it’d come to that, and wouldn’t that feel awful.

Ren’s shadow smiles shyly, and waves them off before disappearing in bright light. The PT make their usual escape. The Palace crumbles.

So does the controller in Ryuji’s hands.

Despite the alarm the crumbling treasure causes for the entire group, Ren seems to take his change of heart just fine, doesn’t even throw himself a week-long slumber party like Futaba did. He stays home from school one day, Futaba reporting that he seems a bit sleepy but nothing too serious, and then the next day, Ren gives Ryuji a fist-bump and smile outside Shujin. Ryuji grins and tackles him into a headlock. He’s so glad the change of heart didn’t hurt Ren. Ren’s his best friend. The Phantom Thieves might have given Ryuji a reason to stay at Shujin and not drop out, but Ren’s pretty much an honorary Thief anyway, and he’s been running with Ryuji, and helping him deal with the track team’s problems, and he’s just so good at knowing exactly what to say to make people feel better. Ryuji’s thrilled he could help Ren for once.

And then, days later, he gets a text from Makoto during class, which he knows is urgent because Makoto texting during class: “Ren is still logged in the MetaNav on my phone for some reason. The location and distortion have been erased, but his name is still there. Is anyone else seeing this?”

Yusuke starts typing. Futaba and Ann chime in well before him that yes, they see it too. Ryuji opens the Metanav on his phone. Ren’s name is glaring on the screen, a partially-complete entry that shouldn’t be there at all.

“Class was that bad?” Ren asks when Ryuji trudges out of his classroom, prompting the blond to immediately shove the phone in his pocket.

“Uh, yeah,” Ryuji mutters. “Hey, Ren, can we talk about the--uh--you-know-what?”

“The completely unsuspicious you-know-what, yes, what about it?” Ren answers, because oh good the change of heart gave him his sarcasm back. Actually--that would be good news. It means the change of heart worked and the Metanav’s got some random glitch. “Let’s get off school grounds first.”

Ryuji manages to only jump a little when his phone buzzes.

When he checks, the Metanav has accepted “school” as the distortion’s location, even though the Palace was actually at the scramble in Shibuya and, more importantly, doesn’t exist any longer.

They go to Leblanc, where Shiho and Futaba are both waiting to talk to Ren as well, which helps Ryuji with the conversation ahead. It’s...kind of hard to muddle through ‘hey, we were trying to help you with your heart, but something might have gone wrong and we don’t know what’. It both helps and doesn’t that Ren stays calm the entire time, doesn’t get worried or pissed off that they might have screwed up. Wouldn’t a distorted person get mad? Wouldn’t a normal person at least be nervous?

Then again, Ren’s always had nerves of steel underneath the nerdy glasses. It never made sense to Ryuji why he didn’t awaken to a Persona when Ryuji and Ann and Shiho all could, not until they found his Palace. He’s got the guts for it.

Futaba openly prods Ren on how he views the school, and he shakes his head. “This must be a glitch. You guys have already helped me. I feel better, and everyone else has only needed their heart changed once. Why would I be different?”

Shiho purses her lips but then agrees. Ryuji feels a little antsy, wants to push but also wants to trust Ren, and even if the change of heart didn’t work for some reason, his friend is pushing back now. Ren’s not hurting anyone. His heart is his call just like Futaba’s was hers, and even the hacker, for all her curiosity, respects that. They gotta drop it.

But it stays on the back of Ryuji’s mind for weeks as the entry stays in place, 2/3s complete, and everyone else is worried too because they all like Ren and something does seem a little off about him--like he’s trying too hard to be normal, to convince them everything is fine--and then apparently one morning, right before class starts, Ren startles Ann by leaning over her shoulder and drily reciting: “Ren Amamiya, Shujin Academy, theater”.

The keywords work, Ren supplying them is taken as an implicit request, and there’s a good chance their calling card timer is already running just like the first time, since Ren knows how they work after tagging along for most of the first Palace and helping them with supplies for later ones. So they go.

Ren’s second Palace is a theater. It’s completely different from the video game world, with dark, muted, traditional colors, yet unmistakably Ren’s, and Makoto has to get their navigators back on task several times because Morgana and Futaba are going nuts theorizing (because who has a second Palace to begin with?). Luckily Shiho doesn’t have much trouble leading the group through anyway. Once again, Ren’s Palace is weirdly easy. The Shadows aren’t color-coded any longer, but they also don’t seem to care about the Thieves as long as they don’t interrupt the show on stage. It’s...an improv show, Ryuji thinks? Yusuke says it might be an avant garde direction on a play. (Ryuji has no idea what the difference would be.) What happens is Ren’s shadow is always acting, and sometimes a cognitive audience member will leave their seat and join him. All of the Thieves are there, even Morgana, which the cat seems touched by, plus Mishima, and Ms. Kawakami, and Ms. Chouno, and Ryuji is about to question why Ren has the hots for so many teachers when Ushimaru gets up and that thought becomes cursed, and the newspaper club girl, and that cute gardening club girl, and actually, Ryuji still thinks Ren has some kind of bias for hot girls going on here. Even if the (former) stalker girl is pushing it.

That’s probably nothing to do with the Palace distortion though, since Ren’s interactions are always a simple back-and-forth with the cognition: they request something of him, even if it’s just to talk, and Ren obliges them admirably, or sometimes he acts as though he’s ignoring them at first, only to swoop in at the last second and give them something even better than they asked for. It’s interesting maybe the first couple times? Morgana stands out again because his cognition nags Ren to study and make infiltration tools, something Morgana says he’s never done, which makes sense because Ren is one of those aggravating people who never needs to study to ace exams and Shiho’s always made the infiltration tools just fine. After Morgana, though, it just falls into a predictable pattern, and the only reason to keep watching is to see who else comes up to stage. And once cognitive guest stars start repeating, the Thieves are out. Every improv act has been slightly different, but the flow is so obvious that it’s become mind-numbingly repetitive anyway.

They sneak past security into the back halls and find a dressing room. Futaba and Morgana both detect the Treasure inside. There’s a white-and-black domino mask sitting on a vanity in a dark corner of the room that both navigators swear up and down has to be the Treasure. It almost seems appropriate for a Thief mask. Maybe because Ren’s seen most of the team’s? It fits the theater setting, at least, but...

“Are we just...taking this?” Ann questions, with an uncertain look around the dressing room. “Seriously? His Shadow’s not even going to talk to us?”

“I would not complain about us being proper thieves and going undetected for once,” Yusuke points out.

“Okay, point, but it just...feels like I understand Ren less than I did before the video game place.” Ann sighs. “I thought he was just a quiet guy, but he saw part of Tokyo as a game? Now he’s acting with everyone at school? I wish I got what it actually meant...”

“We can ask him about it later,” Shiho reassures her. “Right now we just have to take the Treasure.”

That suits Ryuji. They take it. The Palace collapses.

The mask crumbles in Shiho’s hands as soon as they reach the real world, and she makes a small noise of distress. Morgana and Ryuji spit out the same curse in a rare moment of heartfelt unity. Futaba, on the other hand, just whips out her phone. “Hey-hey,” their navigator says, “Guess who doesn’t want to leave the Metanav?”

Ren is sympathetic with his thief friends not being able to steal a Treasure, which feels wildly inappropriate to Ryuji because it’s Ren’s heart in question here. Ryuji thinks in his shoes, he’d be losing his mind. Ryuji’s in his own shoes and he’s still losing his mind a little, because the only answer the group can come up with for what’s going on is that Ren’s somehow got three distortions.

No, sorry. It’s that he has at least three. Three may not be the magic number. Ren doesn’t seem to think it is, anyway, because now he puts down his foot. “I’m not hurting anyone. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you weren’t even down for a day like last time,” Futaba mutters, giving him such a suspicious look that Shiho nudges the girl. Ren is their friend, and he’s been helping them be Phantom Thieves. They’ve got no good reason to antagonize him.

Ren gives her a long, silent look before shaking his head. “You guys should be figuring out your next target.”

They should be.

They do.

Ren helps them less with supplies this time. Ryuji wonders if it’s because of the distortion, and then he catches himself and realizes he’s been wondering if everything with Ren is because of a distortion or not. It’s probably not even Ren’s fault. They’re just not talking to him about Thief business as much, since...yeah. The only upshot might be that Morgana has been making some effort to get to know Ren better. Because Morgana was a jerk when they first found him--he’s still a jerk sometimes, but even Ryuji would say he’s gotten a lot better--and he pretty much brushed Ren off in favor of people who were actually awakening to Personas, like everyone else. They never really argued or anything, though, and apparently judging by Ren’s Palace...s, Ren’s fond of him, and Morgana seems to have finally realized that sometimes, making friends is its own reward, even if they can’t wield kickass Personas. So that’s a thing, now, Shiho passing Morgana off to Ren so they can trot off and do whatever people do together when one of them is a cat (apparently watch movies, get food, fish, and just talk).

And that’s why when Morgana says “I think I know Ren’s keywords” at the start of a Phantom Thieves meeting, Ryuji blurts out “I thought you stopped being an asshole” with a disappointment so deep that it kind of surprises him, because, wow, he really had been expecting that Morgana was just trying to be nice and not obsessed about Palaces and Treasures for once, huh?

Morgana blinks at him across the table. “I have never been an asshole,” he says, outright lying. “Though there are a few things I could say about you--”

“Morgana,” Shiho says, heading off that argument. She looks upset, too. “We don’t have any reason to pursue Ren’s Treasure. He’s not hurting anyone. He...seems to be doing all right,” though the hesitation is audible in her voice, and quickly followed with, “and even if he isn’t, it’s his heart. You’re not getting a unanimous vote here, and if this is why you’ve been friendlier to him lately, I... don’t know what to say, except that I thought you were better than that.”

There are two Phantom Thieves who can scold Morgana and actually make him feel ashamed: Ann and Shiho. Sure enough, she lands a critical hit; Morgana’s ears pin back, and he nearly ducks down under the table to escape her stare before stopping himself. “I’m not asking for a vote,” Morgana says. “If we took his treasure it’d probably just crumble again. But I want to check if I’m right about the keywords. It could be critical information.”

There is a long moment of silence. As much as Ryuji’s still pissed off at Morgana, he can’t deny being curious. If they at least knew the keywords, even if they didn’t go in, they’d understand Ren better, right? Though...after how the last two distortions went...

As it turns in, they go in anyway, because Makoto taps on her phone to open the Metanav, places it in front of Morgana, and when he utters “Tokyo, Metaverse,” the app responds “beginning navigation”, and--

“Fascinating,” Yusuke says.

“That’s not the f-word I’d use,” Ryuji says.

“Huh, Kaneshiro’s Palace is here,” Morgana notes, because that is indeed an effing bank flying through the sky, narrowly avoiding a blimp. The cat continues getting down to business despite the absurdity of the situation he just launched everyone into. “That means both that he’s seen it, and that his mental map of the Metaverse isn’t accurate. It might be based on his most recent memory? We never brought him in the bank, though. What do you think, Or--” He stops when he actually turns to Futaba and sees her face. She’s paler than usual. “...Oracle? Are you okay?”

“My Palace is there,” she says, pointing in the direction where Yongen Jaya would lie. The golden tip of a pyramid gleams over dozens of other riotously colorful, stylistically mishmashed buildings. “How does he know what my Palace looked like? How does he know about any of these? There’s at least two hundred--maybe three!”

Three hundred palaces is a stupid number of Palaces for anyone to personally remember, but it’s especially stupid for a guy who doesn’t even have the Nav on his phone.

the idea: “if persona users simultaneously having a Palace can be justified with wildcards having multiple personas (for one to turn into a shadow while the others remain to use), what kind of shitshow would Ren create if all his Personas just--” and then ng+ shenanigans wandered in

#persona 5 #ren amamiya

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irwinkitten · 4 years

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you can’t stop | a.i

notes: so this was an idea that came up when i first started screaming to @spicycal about broadway!ash and then i spiralled because i started listening to the hairspray soundtrack and said the magical words ‘my head has got ashton playing link in hairspray and my mind won't shut!! up!!' and honestly it was one of the first things i started screaming at sarah about and it’s how we became friends because we’re musical nerds (read: clowns) and this idea wouldn’t leave me alone thus this was born. (also there is a part two in the works!) pairing: broadway!ash x plus sized female!reader warnings: a few swears but that’s it? word count: 2.3k

donate to my ko-fi

When you stepped into rehearsals on the first day, it took some time to fully register that you were the leading lady of the show and not just a background character. You knew that today was all about breaking the ice, so to speak.

You knew that over the years, your sense of humour had developed because of the kids you’d grown up with, the people who still made you feel uncomfortable about your weight, and you had turned it back on them.

So when they got to you, you grinned as you gave them your name and who you were playing.

“Don’t know if the extra weight gave it away, but I’m playing Tracey Turnblad. This is my first time as a lead character and the only way I break ice is by jumping on it.” It took a full second before the other actors started laughing, the director wearing a short grin as the atmosphere relaxed.

It was certainly more easier on your nerves than you’d anticipated because everyone had laughed and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as the others introduced themselves.

And then your eyes fell onto the final person.

“My name’s Ashton, feel free to call me Ash. Can you guess who I’m going to be playing? Although, unlike our leading lady, it could be a difficult guess.” And for the first time in your career, you wanted to punch that stupid self satisfied smug look off his face.

A few people tittered nervously, but you just snorted in response. You’d heard worse from directors.

‘You only have to deal with him for the next two years.’ You told yourself firmly.

The first ten weeks were rehearsals. Normally it would’ve been six weeks, but since it was an entirely new cast, the producer had opted for the extra time to help the cast bond since this show run was going to be two years to start with. Opening night was far enough away that you could surprise your family, since you’d kept this job quiet from them.

As you began the warm ups, the director—who had introduced himself as Evan—moved you front and centre.

“Right, I want to start off with your vocal range. We’ll have other duets fall in as we change the songs but keep it to mostly your songs before we move to ensemble. Once we know the ranges of you lot, our lovely composer Brian,” he waved out to the man who was leaning against one of the walled mirrors in the studio, “will be able to figure out if we need to change any songs.”

It wasn’t so much as brutal, but it put you through your paces. You realised quickly that this was certainly going to be a welcome challenge for you.

Ashton remained smug throughout his parts and it took everything in you to not slap the silly smirk off his face when it got to your duets. But you resisted, matching him pace for pace which surprised him.

When the first break hit, you were feeling warm as you took some water and the actress playing Maybelle—Jace—stepped up to you, braids piled up on her head as she lifted her water bottle in a toast to you.

“So, first time being the leading lady, huh?” And you smiled.

“I’ve been working as just an ensemble cast member for the last few years. I jumped at the chance for the audition with Evan and when I got the call back, I knew it was gonna be what I needed.” You shared a grin with Jace.

A few other cast members came up to you. It was when the one who was playing Amber bounced over, her blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail, bouncing with her movements.

It took you a second to remember her name was Cassie.

“So you’re going to be my enemy for the foreseeable future.” Her tone was teasing, the grin on her lips disarming you for a second.

“I mean, I guess?” You felt confused and she grinned.

“Reckon we can be friends?” This had you relaxing instantly.

“Don’t see the harm in that. And maybe when you’re in character you can teach Irwin good manners.” Cassie laughed as she slung her arm across your shoulders and looped her other with Jace’s

“That man might be a good actor but if you get him to learn some good manners I think the gods would bless you.”

When the day finished, both Cassie and Jace were convincing you to come out with them for drinks. And despite the hesitation, you couldn’t say no to their pleading faces.

“Is your place close by?” Cassie finally asked and you could feel a smile settle on your lips.

“If you’ve already got stuff to change into, we can get ready at my apartment?” The offer was met with an immediate agreement, both girls split from you and began inviting others to the night out.

You’d made fast friends with both of them by the time you were dressed up with a splash of makeup on. As the three of you left, it felt nice as you laughed at Cassie’s imitation of Ashton.

“Hi, I’m Ashton Irwin and I’m a cocky son of a bitch who doesn’t like meeting new people.” Her tone and pitch had the two of you cracking up as you waited for the lift. When Cassie had pitched the invite to him, he’d rolled his eyes and told her that he had better plans. It certainly hadn’t endeared him to her with that.

It took barely ten minutes but by the time you reached the club where a lot of the cast were waiting, excitement began to ooze through your body.

“First round of shots are on me!” You called out to the group, earning excited yells as you all headed in.

With Cassie’s help—since she knew how many people there were—you got the order in and toasted to the lot of them.

“May these runs lead up to incredible shows!” With the shot knocked back, Jace was quick to pull you to the floor, the music loud as the two of you danced the night away with the rest of the cast members.

—

You were furious. Beyond furious with Ashton.

He’d crossed a line. To embarrass you in such a way in front of so many directors, it hurt.

When you got to rehearsals the following morning, your anger hadn’t abated. Jace wisely kept her own counsel as you changed into what you’d dubbed as your rehearsal outfit. Loose fitted tee-shirt and black leggings.

“You realise that it’s final scenes today?” Jace had quietly commented, her eyes concerned and you could feel your temper bubble.

“I can be civil with him when we’re on stage. But off stage? All bets are off.” You snapped, slamming your locker shut and making your way through. She fell silent, casting a worried glance with Cassie before they headed onto the stage.

You hadn’t even made it to the stage when a hand grasped your shoulder, pulling you deeper into the wings of the stage, further away from your castmates. Your fury ignited at the audacity of Ashton.

“Look, about last night-” he started, his voice quiet.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Irwin.” You snapped back, cutting him off as you yanked your arm free from his grip. His shock at your reaction stunned him silent.

“What? Nothing to say to me? Nothing to say to me after you embarrassed me in front of every big fucking name in the industry? Nothing to say to me after saying that my family shouldn’t bother for opening night since I’m going to mess it up?” You didn’t bother keeping your voice down. The director knew you and Ashton didn’t get along well, but you were able to work with him.

“I just wanted to say-” He tried again but you cut him off.

“You wanted to say what, exactly? That you’re sorry? I don’t want your fucking apology. It’s worthless. You could be the king of fucking england and I still won’t give you my time or attention anymore, unless it’s directly related to work. Now back off.” You snapped, pulling away completely and leaving him stunned.

“Ooo, do we need to be having words?” Cassie teased and you took in a slow deep breath, pushing down your anger towards him so you wouldn’t snap at Cassie. You knew she meant well she always did, but you were still too angry, too hurt to not take it the wrong way.

Evan gave you a lasting look, tapping his fingers on the script.

“Dance rehearsal today. We’ll work on the scenes later and tomorrow.” He announced, earning groans from the ensemble. Ashton slipped onto the stage quietly.

You threw Evan a grateful look and he simply nodded as he clapped his hands.

“Chop chop, we don’t have all day for this. We’ll go from where the girls are fighting to be seen on camera.” As the cast rearranged themselves, you stepped over to the corner from where you’d come down. Cassie winked at you and you offered her a weak grin.

“From the top!”

After you’d yelled at him, Ashton had done his best to keep out of your way before opening night. But on opening night you knew you had to call a truce.

Knocking on his dressing room door, you waited quietly before you heard him knock something over in his haste to get to the door.

As he pulled it open, his eyes widened in shock to find you standing there in front of him.

“Can I come in?” Your voice was quiet and it took him a moment before he nodded and stepped back, letting you in before closing the door behind you. You had to try and ignore the fact that he was half dressed, his shirt clearly hanging from the back of the chair.

He offered the small couch that was in the corner of his dressing room, pulling the chair over to sit in front of you and suddenly you felt your courage and words disappear.

“So, did you need something?” His voice was hesitant, and you couldn’t exactly blame him for that. Ever since you’d verbally smacked him down before rehearsal, he’d done his best to avoid pissing you off outside of rehearsal.

His question pulled you back to that moment and you felt your courage return, taking a slow deep breath.

“I’m calling a truce between us. Or at least, a truce between my attitude and yourself.” Although you’d been well in the right to be so angry with him and continue the treatment, he’d done everything he could to change that before backing off.

His jaw dropped at your words, sucking in a sharp breath as he processed your words.

“I-uh, don’t know what to say to that except, thanks, I guess?” You snorted at that.

“I’ve been so furious with you for what you did. You embarrassed me and made me look like some kind of pity pick. After working Broadway for years, do you know how much that hurt me? Hurt my career? ” His face flushed in shame as his gaze dropped to his hands that were resting in his lap.

“I hadn’t even considered...” He trailed off and you scoffed.

“Of course you didn’t. You’re the popular kid. The one people fight over to have on their team. You don’t need to consider other people’s feelings because everyone tries to cater for you.” You couldn't help the bitterness slip out with your words and his eyes lifted to meet yours.

“I really fucked up.”

“That’s putting it lightly, Ashton. You single handedly nearly destroyed my entire career with those words. Evan had to tell me that he’d had calls from other casting directors who had other names to replace me if he needed it.” You could see that the message was sinking in for Ashton, the guilt etched into his face mixed with a look of horror.

“I’m so sorry, I- I never even realised-” You cut him off.

“The damage is done. Thankfully Evan managed to put them off from that and invited them to the opening night of the show. If we pull this off we could be working together for a lot longer than the two years we’re scheduled to.” A wry smile crossed your lips. “So don’t fuck this up tonight.”

Ashton stared at you for a solid ten seconds before he started laughing.

“You’ve got it, doll. How about we start over?” He held his hand out to you and you took a second before grasping his hand. He surprised you by bringing the back of your hand to his lips and without even realising, you’d rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

“It’s one thing to start over with me, but I think you need to start over with the rest of the cast too. Cassie is still fully prepared to scalp you for doing what you did.” He winced at that before letting your hand go.

“I guess I owe it to you and them to start over, don’t I?” You nodded at his words, watching as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I know that everyone has their families in for the opening night and they’re going to want to celebrate this success with them. How about you start with the rehearsal tomorrow and see how that goes?” He nodded at that.

“I think I might just do that. And for what it’s worth, I truly am sorry for what I did and said.” Your eyes studied his face and you let the corner of your lips tug just a little bit.

“I know.” You leaned forwards and kissed his cheek before heading out, leaving him speechless.

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bewitching-elizabeth-olsen · 4 years

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Press/Gallery: Elizabeth Olsen Is Ready to Lead the MCU

An ambitious new Disney+ series might just give the strongest Avenger the happy ending she deserves.

GALLERY LINKS

Studio Photoshoots > 2021 > Session 001

ELLE: We can’t keep meeting Elizabeth Olsen like this. By “this,” I mean in the throes of catastrophe or bereavement, or, to put it plainly, when she’s an emotional wreck. In the 2018 Facebook Watch drama Sorry For Your Loss, Olsen assumes the role of Leigh Shaw, a young widow grappling with the unexpected loss of her husband and all the painful nuisances that come with death: the unbearable waves of sadness, the clichéd condolences, a grief support group that runs out of donuts. At one point, Leigh says through a cracked voice, “I’m just mad all the time.” It’s hard not to draw parallels to Olsen’s other angry character. After all, “mad” is exactly how 2015’s Avengers: Age of Ultron introduced us to Wanda Maximoff.

Defined by tragedy since her Marvel debut, Wanda (aka the Scarlet Witch) is an orphan with telekinetic powers. When not saving the world, she spends most of her time onscreen grieving the deaths of her parents, twin brother, or lover. Wanda’s never been allowed to fully exist outside the confines of her grief and anger, but with the launch of WandaVision—Marvel’s foray into serialized content for streaming—she may just be getting the happy ending she deserves.

Partly inspired by The Vision comic book, which follows synthezoid superhero Vision and his family as they move to the suburbs of Washington, D.C., the Disney+ series is an ode to the TV sitcoms we’ve come to love, with Wanda and Vision (Paul Bettany) basking in newlywed bliss—except Vision’s been very dead (killed twice, in fact) since the events of 2018’s Avengers: Infinity War. It’s unclear exactly how these starcrossed characters got to suburbia, but for now, it’s a delight to see the typically solemn duo sink their teeth into slapstick comedy.

“The show is like a blank slate for them,” Olsen tells me over Zoom, her light brown fringe a departure from Wanda’s red waves. The Scarlet Witch’s doleful glare is also long gone; in its place, Olsen’s eyes are wide with excitement. “Wanda and Vision’s journey to this point is a story of pure, innocent love and deep connection with another person,” she explains. “It was also very traumatizing. Tragedy has always been their story. In our show, we kind of wipe that clean and start fresh.”

But Wanda’s complicated past looms over WandaVision. Age of Ultron saw her and her twin brother, Pietro, initially opposing the Avengers (the siblings volunteered for a series of experiments with Hydra—a super evil organization within the MCU—after the deaths of their parents at the hands of Tony Stark’s Stark Industries) before switching sides to help save the Earth. The movie ends in victory for our superheroes, but yet another tragedy for Wanda when Pietro dies in battle. She finds comfort in the arms of Vision, an android created from the remains of Tony’s J.A.R.V.I.S. program, but even that bliss is short-lived. You see, Vision can only live with the help of the Mind Stone, which Mad Titan Thanos needs to take over the universe. In Infinity War, Vision asks Wanda to sacrifice him, and Wanda reluctantly agrees—but Thanos reverses time to gain control of the stone, killing the robot for a second time. Wanda’s pain is palpable: Imagine sacrificing the love of your life to save everyone else, just to watch him brought back to life and killed again—by the very villain you’re trying to defeat.

Though the thrill of playing a character with superhuman abilities is enticing for any actress, Olsen says it was Wanda’s internal battle with mental health that attracted her to the role in the first place. “[Joss Whedon] explained to me that Wanda Maximoff has always been this pillar of the struggle of mental health, from her pain and depression and traumatic experiences to how she completely alters the reality of the comics,” Olsen says of her early conversations with the Age of Ultron director. “The thing I held onto after reading the initial script was that she was not only powerful because of her abilities, but because of her emotions.”

In fact, MCU theorists would argue she’s one of, if not the, strongest Avenger. She can infiltrate the others’ minds to reveal their biggest fears (Age of Ultron). She can overpower Vision and send him plunging through several floors to break up a fight between warring superheroes (Avengers: Civil War). She can even bring Thanos to his knees, snapping his sword in half and forcibly removing his armor piece by piece (Infinity War).

Still, “they keep slapping her over the head with more grief,” Olsen quips.

As phase one of the Marvel Cinematic Universe began with the sound of clanging metal on May 2, 2008, phase four kicked off on January 15, 2021 with a kitschy 1950s sitcom theme: “She’s a magical gal in a small town locale / he’s a hubby who’s part machine / How will this duo fit in and pull through? Oh, by sharing a love / like you’ve never seen.”

With WandaVision, Marvel steers clear of the typical superhero trappings: no destructive battles at a Berlin airport or across the streets of New York City; no blonde-haired god time-traveling to other realms; no tree-like alien fight alongside a raccoon. Wandavision takes place after the events of Endgame in a fictional suburban town called Westview, and the biggest problem the newlyweds face in the show’s opening moments is creating a convincing backstory to get nosy neighbor Agnes (Kathryn Hahn) off their backs.

“They are just trying to fit in,” Olsen explains. “They’re trying to not be found out by their neighbors that they’re super-powered beings.” Now, if only we can figure out what the hell is actually going on. Olsen remains tight-lipped: “The reason it’s a sitcom shows itself later in the show,” she hints. “When Kevin [Feige] told me, it didn’t feel so bizarre. It felt like a great way to start our story.”

“With our show, you don’t know what the villain is, or if there is one at all.”

So, is Wanda stuck in the first stage of grief, denial? Has she altered reality as a coping mechanism for Vision’s death? Is she being held hostage by a terrorist organization (ahem, Hydra!)? One thing we do know is that someone is watching the couple and taking notes. At the end of episode 1, the camera pans out from a retro TV playing an episode of WandaVision (meta!) to show a hand jotting down notes. There’s a strange sword symbol on the notebook and a nearby control board, and in episode 2, the same sign appears on a toy helicopter lodged in the couple’s front yard. Later, when a mysterious beekeeper crawls out of the sewer on the couple’s street, the symbol is seen on the back of his suit. In its 20-plus movies, Marvel villains have always existed in plain sight. But with a new, less obvious darkness lurking at every turn, Wanda may have to return to her world-saving roots.

“Someone said to me when you watch any of these hero movies, you know when the villain’s about to show themselves, and you also have an idea of who the villain is,” Olsen says. “With our show, you don’t know what the villain is, or if there is one at all.” For now, WandaVision allows for glimmers of hope and optimism for Wanda and Vision, despite what darkness tries to threaten their happiness. “Wanda is trying to protect everything in her bubble, protect what she and Vision have and this experience,” Olsen says. “I think everything she does is in response to keeping things together.”

In addition to exploding the concept of the superhero onscreen, WandaVision toys with a different era of TV in each episode. The pilot takes viewers to the ‘50s with an episode filmed in front of a live studio audience, and Wanda dresses up in the quintessential housewife garb, not a hair out of place in her voluminous bob. By the time we click on episode 2, she trades in her apron and kitten heels for a more pared-down ‘60s look, while episode 3 gives a nod to the ‘70s, complete with a Brady Bunch-style staircase and a shag haircut for Vision.

While dressing up was the fun part, time-hopping through the eras required a lot of binge-watching old sitcoms to get the mannerisms down right. Olsen studied series like The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Brady Bunch, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and Bewitched to “understand the tones of each era” and get a grasp of how Wanda and Vision should act as a couple. (One of her favorite TV pairings was Jane Kaczmarek and Bryan Cranston from Malcolm in the Middle.) She was fascinated by the way female characters evolved through the decades: “You have to learn appropriate manners—what’s considered being polite or proper. That coincides with women’s voices changing,” she explains. “I enjoyed challenging myself to match the syntax and the lyricism. I live in a very chest-register kind of deep voice. I had to remember not to bring it up at certain moments.”

For so long, Wanda served as a supporting character to Marvel’s biggest names, and the formulaic mundanity of the major theatrical releases made it easy to get comfortable. WandaVision offered Olsen a much-needed challenge. “I’ve only been working for 10 years, but there is this feeling where you start to get comfortable,” she says. “WandaVision was the furthest thing from comfortable for me. It felt intimidating. The character is a completely different thing.”

And fans hoping for a little Marvel action won’t be disappointed. “We still live up to what Marvel does,” she promises. “We just tell the story in a completely different way. It’s a very emotional, female story and it’s a story they haven’t told yet for either of our characters.” Whatever your theory is, keep the cliché condolences to yourself. No one will be uttering, “Sorry for your loss” in Wanda’s world.

Press/Gallery: Elizabeth Olsen Is Ready to Lead the MCU was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

#Elizabeth Olsen #WandaVision #Avengers #Scarlet Witch #Wanda Maximoff #Sorry For Your Loss #Avengers Infinity War #Avengers Age of Ultron #Captain America Civil War #Ingrid Goes West #Godzilla

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fandomsonrequests · 4 years

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𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 3]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 2.8k+

summary: It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: ahhhhh- i’m back after a while! how are all of you? i hope y’all are surviving through these inception stages. this chapter is once again unedited so if there are any errors or anything, i’m sorry ;^; please remember to drink water and rest well! <3

taglist: @iwanttohitmyself

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Your little family was silent on the way back to the smithy. Siyeon had parted ways from you as you all headed back, presumably to her family to talk about what was to happen.

You felt your stomach churn with nervousness as your heart crept up your throat. You wanted to throw up with all the anxiousness you were feeling; it didn’t help that the frown never left your father’s face. You already knew what he was going to say when you arrived home.

You fit the criteria given to become a delegate to train at the palace to hopefully become the prince’s protector. But even if that was so, you knew your father would move mountains to keep you from going and nothing was going to stop him.

You bit your lip as the smithy neared. You kind of regret telling your father that you’d never leave him. That resolution had obviously changed when you learned of the reward that was to be given when you become the prince’s protector. God, sometimes you wished you knew what to say and when to say it.

“No.” Your father says all of a sudden almost as if he read your mind.

“But papa, you heard what the man said..!” You argue without missing a beat and throw your arm out to the side. “If I get to become the prince’s protector you can finally rest and we wouldn’t have to worry about where we’ll get the money for your medicines.”

“That’s an ‘if,’” He argued in return and sat on his work stool. He looks up at you with a stern look on his eyes, hands on top of his cane. “It’s too dangerous..! You could get hurt in training. Or worse: what if the assassin comes back and decides to kill the trainees hm?”

“Papa that's ridiculous-”

“No, ____. I will not allow you to go.”

“The king required all able-bodied folks of my age to go. It’s literally law, papa.”

“What about what you said earlier? Didn’t you say that you’d never leave this place?”

You sigh in exasperation and run a hand through your sweaty hair. “First of all, that was Christopher who said it-”

“Oi, don’t drag me into this,” Chris argues but the both of you ignore him.

“You agreed to it-”

“Second of all- that was for the selection of a princess. This is a selection for a knight. Come on papa, please.” You begged and went up to your father. You got down on your knees and held onto his hand, gripping it with desperation in your eyes. “I promised you I’d give you a good life when I’m older. This is it. This is a chance for me to give you a good life. If you’d just let me-”

“Let you what? Risk your life for some boy with a silver spoon in his mouth?” Your father countered and stood up. You scramble back onto your feet at the sudden outburst; even Christopher seemed surprised by this. “Anything could happen during training. Anything. Becoming a knight isn’t the same as blacksmithing.”

“But papa-”

“____, enough. This will be the end of the discussion. I don’t want to hear any of this nonsense anymore. I’ll think of something to keep you from going.”

“But papa-”

“I SAID ENOUGH.” Your father said, voice booming and echoing off the walls of the smithy.

You flinched at the loudness of his voice. Your father rarely raised his voice like this but when he did, you knew that you’ve crossed the line. It always scared you to see him this furious. Even your brother, who remained silent throughout the whole ordeal, kept his head down at his hands, lip caught between his teeth.

You swallowed back your pride and turned away from your father. You felt your eyes sting with the threat of tears as you trudged back to your workplace, grabbing a hammer in the process. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry- you tell yourself as you get back to work, allowing the sound of metal clanging against metal to drown out the thoughts in your head.

Your father on the other hand sighed as he slumped back against his workbench and turned back to the sheathe he was working on earlier. He spared another glance at your hunched figure, back towards him. He didn’t need to see your face to know that you were crying- he could tell by the way your strikes against the weapon you were working on turned sloppy. He sighed deeply through his nose and returned to his work- deep in thought.

Your father knew how much you wanted him to retire and rest while you and your brother worked at the smithy. He understood your intentions but after he lost your mother, he couldn’t bear to lose you too. Maybe it was just his paternal instincts going into overdrive but with something like this- he couldn’t just let you go.

As the sun starts to set, the voices out on the dirt roads lessen as the townsfolk close up shop and return to their homes. The solemn voices of the quarry-workers’ floated down the mountain as they trekked back to the village to rest their sore feet and arms. You hear their voices as you were greeting the last customers' goodbye. Realization suddenly dawns upon you.

The quarry-workers of your age are big competitors to you.

They worked from sunrise to sunset, hammering, and digging away at the quarry to harvest valuable stone such as limestone and marble. From the amount of work they did it was no doubt, they’d develop strong muscles and legs- perfect to carry them through whatever training that they were to go through at the palace. For a moment, you were disheartened. There was no way you’d be able to top that. But then you remember that you work just as hard as them- slaving away all day to craft the perfect weapon or the perfect scabbard to fit your customers’ liking. Besides, your mother would never approve of you putting down your hard work.

They may be physically stronger but there are some things they don’t have that you do. She’d tell you. And the greatest thing about that is that your mother was usually right.

But then these thoughts were practically useless. You didn’t have to worry about this too much; your father wouldn’t even allow you to go.

“Oi, ____,” Your brother calls out to you, making you snap away from your thoughts. He shakes his head at you. “I’ve been calling your name about five times. What’s wrong?”

You wave off his concern. “Nothing just- just thinking.”

For a moment Christopher’s eyes flashed with concern. He blinks it away and gestures to the exit of the smithy. “Anyways, we’re heading home. Are you okay with closing up on your own?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. It’s not too much of a problem for me.” You try to give him a reassuring smile but your brother saw right through.

He puts his hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Look, I know what you’re thinking... Papa he… he just wants to protect you. You remind him so much of mama it’s just hard for him to let you go.”

“But I’m an adult now Christopher.” You argue but make no move to shrug off his hand. It was what kept you grounded right now. “He has to understand that I’m not that little girl anymore…”

“I know but-” He struggles to find more words to say but sighs, shoulders sagging in defeat when none come to mind. “If I weren’t only a year older than cut-off age for the Selection you know I’d go and do this for both of you in a heartbeat..” He sighs.

A rather sad silence settles over the two of you. It seemed like fate was against them.

“...hey, chin up. Maybe he’d change his mind. It seems far off but it’s not impossible.” Christopher says after a moment and uses his other hand to tap your chin.

A quiet chuckle falls past your lips. You sigh and give a tap to his arm before pulling away. “You better make dinner this time when you get home.”

Christopher laughs and moves to help your father back home, saying something along the lines of “yeah, yeah I will.”

As the two men pass by, you turn away to avoid meeting your father’s gaze. You’ve calmed down from your argument earlier but you were afraid that you may something stupid that could further ruin your chance of ever going to the Selection. You pretend to busy yourself with fixing up your workbench, making your father sigh sadly.

Once the two were out of the smithy, you let out a deep sigh of your own. You tuck away the stray hair that fell to your face as you looked around the place and contemplated the situation at hand. Maybe Christopher was right. Maybe your father could change his mind later, maybe with a little more convincing, he’d let you go.

Dinner went by quietly that night. The air was still thick from the unresolved argument from earlier now that you and your father were sat across each other on the table and your poor brother was caught between it. You appreciated Christopher’s efforts in producing a laugh from one of you or making conversation about other topics rather than what happened that day but those didn’t last very long.

You poked at the hard, dry meat on your plate as you contemplated about trying to give one last go in convincing your father to allow you to join the Selection. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you open your mouth to speak. “So papa… have you thought about any excuse to keep me from going..?” You start. There was silence on his end. “Because if not, I could still go.”

“____…”

“Plus it wouldn’t be fair to the others right..? Isn’t that unjust to the other townsfolk that their children have to go while I stay here?”

Your father doesn’t say anything again which prompts you to look over at your brother. He just stared at you, giving you a look that read “what am I supposed to do?” You frown at him, kicking his foot under the table.

Come on Chris, back me up here.

“Y’know papa, ____ has a point there.” He says. “I don’t think a lot of people would be pleased to learn that you kept here while their kids go off to the Selection.”

“See? Like.. like Magda. What would she say if half of her sons went out to join the Selection but learned that I’m still here?”

Your father sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day and threw his fork onto the plate in front of him. He was tired of having this conversation. It was plaguing his thoughts and weighed down on his shoulders. Hell, it almost felt too real with the way his neck and head were aching right now.

The tension grows thicker when no one speaks up. Only the faint sounds of the firewood crackling and popping were heard. It was suffocating.

You took your father’s silence as a no and allowed your resolve to finally crumble. At least you tried.

“...I’m done with dinner.” You say quietly and stand to collect your empty plate to wash for later. You place the dinnerware in the wash bin and head quickly head over to your room to prepare for bed.

“Anything else you’d like to add?” Your father says, resting his chin on his palm as he looked over to your brother.

Christopher straightened up and took a breath to answer. “I think she should go, papa. I doubt any life-threatening harm would come to her. Besides, it’s not like they’ll keep her there forever. If the others outdo her she can come home.” He reached out to hold the older man’s hand and squeezed it. “____ is not a little girl anymore, papa. She just wants the best for you.”

The man, deep down, knew his son was right. He couldn’t keep you under his wing forever. It was just like that old saying- one day the fledgling is going to leave the nest. Suppose it made sense, you wouldn’t really learn much of real-life if he continued to coddle you the way he did.

His weary gaze flickered over to the fire, letting the flames calm him down. He closed his eyes and prayed to whatever god that was out there that he didn’t make the wrong decision; he just hoped he wouldn’t regret it later on.

“I’m done with my dinner. Go clean up, I’ll talk to your sister.” He says and stands with a grunt, cane clicking against the wooden floor as he limped his way over to your room.

Christopher smiled softly when your father left the room. “You better kill it out there, ____.” He whispers under his breath and cleans the table.

You were sat on your bed, dressed down to your sleeping gown, hair let down from the updo you had put it in earlier. You wince as the course brush you had ran into the tangles of your hair, cursing under your breath as you tried your best to brush it out. You sigh as you set the brush down onto your bedside table. You were still pretty much bummed out from earlier- who wouldn’t be? You’ve tried so many times to convince your father that day but were continually shot down.

A knock on your door pulled you away from your thoughts. You knew it wasn’t Chris since it was his room as well so he wouldn’t need to knock. You stood up and padded over to the door to open it, revealing your father behind it.

“____,” He says quietly and peered inside. “May I come in?”

You say nothing but step aside to let him in. You closed the door behind you and helped him over to your bed. “Is there something you want to tell me, papa?” You asked quietly and sat beside him.

He looked over to you, the faint light from your candle illuminating the room just enough so that he could look over you clearly. He says nothing at first and cups your cheek, thumb running over your cheek. The metal of his wedding ring around his finger was cool against your skin.

“I just wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier,” He finally says. You open your mouth to apologize for your actions but he hushed you gently. “You’re right, ____. It wouldn’t be fair to everyone else in this town if I keep you here… It wouldn’t be fair to you either.”

Your brows furrow together in confusion. Your father only chuckled at your reaction, his hand falling from your cheek over to yours.

“I can’t keep you here forever, my flower,” He continues, looking over to your hand in his. The memory of your much smaller, delicate hands in his feels more like a distant memory now that he realizes how much you’ve grown. “I realize that now…”

“Papa, are you-”

“I’m telling you you can go join the others for the Selection.” He concludes, eyes glassy when he looks back up at you. “Do your best, my flower.” He says with a sad but proud smile.

Your shoulders sag with relief at this, joy filling your chest at the sudden yet pleasant turn of events. You let out a giggle of excitement and moved to hug your father, pulling him close to you. He buried his head into your hair, holding you tight as if you could disappear any moment.

The feeling of something wet against your shoulder makes you pull away and you see your father crying. Your heart breaks at this and in turn, you could feel your tears welling up. “Oh papa, please don’t cry.” You tell him, a wobbly smile on your lips. You move your hands to wipe away his tears. “You’re making me cry.”

He laughs at this and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, ____. I can’t help it; you’re growing up too fast for me.”

“I know I said I’m not a little girl anymore but, you know I’ll always be in your heart.” You say in an effort to try and get him to cheer up. And somehow it worked because he snorted in amusement at that.

Your father leaned up to kiss your forehead, both hands cupping your cheeks this time. He takes in how you look because he knows that this tender moment will end soon- and this will be the last time he’d see your face in a while. “No matter what happens, just remember that I’m always proud of you, my flower.”

#kpop #kpop x reader #ateez x reader #ateez #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #prince park seonghwa #royal #royalty au #ateez royalty au #fantasy au #regiis #fandomsonrequests

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thefandomlesbian · 4 years

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We’re All Born Naked (The Rest Is Drag)

Summary: A series of crimes at a gay club leaves the BAU scrambling for a way to locate the unsub before they have another victim. After a surprising revelation about Spencer, he's assigned duty on stage--performing as a drag queen so he has the opportunity to spot the killer from above. While undercover with Hotch, feelings develop.

Read it here on AO3!

...

“We're all born naked, and anything anybody wears at any time is drag.” -Tede Matthews

…

The heady air of the club before it opened collected in thick clouds around the team. Hotch spoke with the owner a few yards away from the others. Spencer watched their conversation, unable to hear what they said, but understanding from the exchange of nods that they were making some kind of deal regarding the club and its patrons.

For the past three weeks, every Friday night, a man from this club had gone missing and turned up disemboweled two days later.

Tonight, they intended to catch him in the act.

Hotch left the owner and approached the rest of the team. Spencer fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt. In a few minutes, the club would be opening, and he wanted to be far out of here before people began to arrive. It wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. JJ shot him a sideways glance. “You alright, Spence?” He nodded.

Hotch inclined his eyebrows as he stopped in front of them. “The owner has agreed to let us bug the place. Reid, you’re undercover with me.”

Spencer gulped. “Er—I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Hotch frowned. He kept fidgeting with his sleeves. “I’m… not sure that’s something I can do.” Defying a direct order? He never did that. Hotch had told him, not asked; refusing wasn’t an option.

Morgan pursed his lips. “C’mon, man, what gives? You fit the type. You’re gonna be a lot more helpful on the ground than the rest of us.”

“I know, I just—I have certain concerns that my ability to do this may, uh, may be compromised.”

Emily cocked her head. “Reid, are you… homophobic? ”

“No!” Spencer bristled. “No, I’m not homophobic, I just am worried about certain things—”

“What kind of things?”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but across the dance floor called a familiar voice, “Spencer!” that sent cold chills running down his spine. He closed his jaw with a quiet click and closed his eyes, willing the voice to go away, but it didn’t, and he could hear footsteps trotting up behind them. This kind of thing. Peter propped up an arm on Spencer’s shoulder. “Hey, buddy! I thought you said you had to work tonight! Listen, you are gonna be so excited— Damien B is back in town. Remember the last time he was here, I was too drunk to walk, so you went up to him and tucked that wad of cash into his G-string for me? Best night ever! Plus, the drag race is on. Are you gonna roll again? Runner up last time—you’ve got a real shot.” I wish I were the unsub’s last victim. Peter’s excitable grin did not fade as he looked up at the rest of the team. “And you got us some newcomers! C’mon.” He nudged Spencer pointedly. “Introduce me to your friends!”

Some part of Spencer prayed that if he willed it hard enough, the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He reluctantly opened his eyes, gauging the expressions on each of his teammates’ faces, ranging from shock and horror to Hotch’s completely impassive poker face (Spencer was quite grateful at least one of them had the grace to look like himself). He opened his mouth again, and again, Peter interrupted him. “Oh, who’s this tall drink of water?” He pushed into the circle of the BAU and brushed both of his hands down Hotch’s arms. Peter smirked and winked. “Who’s your daddy, big guy?”

Oh, please don’t hurt him, and please don’t hurt me. If he hadn’t been paralyzed to the spot, Spencer might’ve had the willpower to turn away and run, run out of the club, down the street, to the bus stop, and take the city bus all the way to Canada where he would change his name and never return. He cleared his throat. He could not move. That meant he had to speak. “Peter, these are… my… colleagues. We are working a case here.”

“Oh.” Peter blinked somewhat surprised. Then, he withdrew from Hotch. “Well, this one can arrest me any time. ” Spencer’s entire face and neck flushed maroon. “I’m Peter! Nice to meet you guys.”

Emily was the first to find her words. “So you two are…” She gestured between them with her index finger.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Us? Oh, no, ma’am. We’re just the twinks who have to try to find a ouija board to summon the top we both need. Right, Spencer? Up top!” Peter lifted up his hand. Spencer merely stared at his palm. “Oh, don’t leave me hanging!”

Hotch coughed, interrupting the shame circulating between all of them. “Thank you, Peter, but we really need to resume our investigation.”

“Oh, sure, sure. I’m gonna be hovering around the bar all night—and your drinks are on me.” Peter pointed at Hotch, and then he swung around and trotted back toward the bar.

Spencer released a long, pent-up sigh. “That. That’s my concern.”

Silence followed. Finally, JJ broke it. “You’re gay? ”

“Mhm.”

“Called it,” Rossi said, speaking for the first time in a few minutes. Spencer’s belly did a sick flip. “Morgan, you owe me.”

Emily tilted her head. “Were you ever going to tell us?”

“Honestly? No, I wasn’t.”

Morgan countered, “I don’t owe you anything. I called Emily, remember? We’re even now.”

JJ blinked incredulously. “You guys are taking bets on who’s not straight?”

“Yeah, princess, and my money says you and Emily bang it out before the end of the year,” Morgan countered. JJ’s cheeks flushed as red as Spencer’s.

Emily piped up, “So Rossi does owe you.” Morgan fist-pumped.

“Can we get back to work?” Hotch interrupted pointedly. Everyone fell silent and fell in line, looking back toward him. “Reid, you’re not on the floor anymore.”

Rossi snorted. “That’d be a bad idea. He might end up at the glory holes.”

Hotch shot Rossi a dark warning glance. Spencer flushed with warmth, but then Hotch continued, “I have a better idea.” His gaze swept the room, the flyers on the wall, taking heed of the layout, the speakers, the stage, the bar. “You’re on stage. You’ll have the best vantage point of the whole club from up there. You’ll see more than any of us can from the floor. Drag show starts at nine. Get dressed.”

I wish I were dead.

…

In a skin-tight dress, five inch heels, and a poofy blonde wig, Spencer crossed his arms and stood beside the foot of the stage. The crowd had packed into the room. I deserve a raise for this. He looked up as Hotch parted the crowd, coming up to him. Hotch hadn’t changed, and frankly, he didn’t look like he belonged, with his suit and his tie and his too-nice shoes.

“I didn’t exactly ask if you were okay with this.”

Spencer shrugged. “Less okay things have happened. This is something I’ve done before.” He hadn’t expected his team to ever know about it, nor would he have wanted them to, but now that they did… well, at least he could catch a killer.

Hotch gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, so have I.” What? Spencer wanted to ask. How? Why? “You have a smudge in your lipstick. Hold still.” Hotch licked his thumb and wiped at it, framing Spencer's face between his two large hands, and Spencer's words died in his throat, unable to make a sound. The floodlights illuminated the room, casting Hotch's face in bright light and the rest of him in shadow, giving his hickory eyes an odd gleam, his brows drawn together as he worked at wiping away the smear of lipstick at the corner of Spencer's mouth.

When his hands pulled away, Spencer's belly flipped over. He somehow felt hot and cold at the same time. He parted his lips, wanting to ask something, wanting to say something, but he couldn't conceive of the correct words. “Um, thanks—” He tried to push the stammer out of his voice. He didn't think he succeeded.

The announcer called out, “Now introducing Miss Sparrow Wings!” and Hotch offered him a leg up, thrusting him onto the stage before he could ask another question.

Spencer’s heels clicked beneath him as he strolled down the runway. He had done this before, the costume makeup, the dress, the wig, everything—the performance and the anonymity that came with it was all part of the fun. But knowing that somewhere down there, Hotch watched him, gave him some strange and embarrassing thrill. The MC held out the microphone to him. I didn’t have time to prepare an act. The last time, he’d sung a song—badly, but still, it was better than it would’ve been if he had tried to do stand-up, which was his first choice when Peter talked him out of it.

Of course, he had public speaking skills. He could use them.

“Today, I’m going to talk to all of you about string theory.” The crowd cheered. Either they were too drunk to know what he had just said or they thought he was joking. “In summary, string theory is the framework in which the point-like particles of physics are replaced by one-dimensional objects known as strings. String theory describes how these strings propagate through space and interact with one another.” This time, they did not cheer. They mumbled in confusion. “On distance scales larger than the string scale, a string looks just like an ordinary particle, with its mass, charge, and other properties determined by the vibrational state of the string. In string theory, one of the many vibrational states of the string corresponds to the graviton, a quantum mechanical particle that carries gravitational force. Thus string theory is a theory of quantum gravity.”

He scanned the crowd, ignoring the ones sloshing beer at his feet. They had a profile to work with. The man they were looking for would hang back from the main crowd and charm the lone wolves he spotted, the ones whose friend groups had abandoned them, and eventually lead them away. He would not be among the men popping molly crowded around the front of the stage.

Hotch worked along the back walls, patrolling, failing to look inconspicuous. He chose a corner and hovered there with his arms crossed. A younger man approached him, grabbed him by the arm, and gestured in the direction of the glory holes. Spencer’s abdomen clenched with something—jealousy, perhaps?—at the sight, but he forced himself to tear his gaze away. He could not focus on Hotch right now. He was looking for a serial killer.

“Now, you may be asking yourself, how could something be one-dimensional? After all, everything we analyze in basic life is either three-dimensional—like me and you, like this feather boa—” Spencer took the feather boa off from around his neck and tossed it into the crowd. The guy who caught it stumbled and landed on his ass. “—and then there are things that are two dimensional, like the little heart patterns on my panties. You boys will see that if you’re lucky.” Like hell. It kept their attention, though, which was what he needed. “One dimensional objects exist in physics and mathematics. Like on a number line, every single spot on the number line can be indicated by a single digit.”

At the bar, he spotted Peter far below, chatting up the bartender. He sifted over the crowd with his eyes, eager to find anyone looking or acting suspicious. Anyone without friends, keeping to himself, watching the others too closely, approaching loners… There’s a handful of them down there. He spotted a tall man with dark hair clinging to the corner, sipping his own drink. This man wouldn’t be drinking. He wouldn’t compromise his own judgment. But there was every possibility he had a virgin drink to give the appearance of inebriation. It’s all part of the act. Spencer knew about the act.

“Now, the thing about these theoretical dimensions is that they’re difficult to conceive of without some kind of proof. Not easy to believe. But then again, tons of things are unbelievable…” Spencer flipped his wrists over and produced another feather boa, one that had been concealed under the jangly bands on his wrists. “If you believe in magic, the thing about theoretical physics is that everything is magical in its own right—because just like physics, magic always has a logical explanation.”

Spencer spilled a deck of cards over the floor from where he had hidden them. He watched the figure cross the floor to the bar, and he vanished into the crowd where Spencer could not spot him. Shoot. He couldn’t continue to track him like that. He checked the clock. Two more minutes. He could lecture about string theory for two more hours—but he preferred not to have to do it while he was working and appearing on stage in drag.

Running his mouth? That was his expertise.

When his time was over, he swung off the stage and headed toward the bar. Hotch intercepted him only a few steps through the crowd, pushing the surging men away from one another and away from Spencer. “What did you see?”

“Dark-haired white guy, wearing a blazer. He headed toward the bar and I lost him in the crowd.”

“He wouldn’t head into the crowd unless he’s chosen a victim.”

“Yeah, I know. Should we start canvassing?”

Hotch’s dark eyes darted around the room in the flashing lights. “No. If he spots us, he’ll startle and leave, and we’ll have lost our shot. We need to be discreet until we’re sure, and then get him away from this crowd. If we cause a panic, we’ll lose him.” Spencer’s eyes scanned Hotch’s face. “Let’s sit at the bar and wait for him.”

“Together?” Spencer questioned.

“You’re wearing six inch heels. You’re not exactly in position to give chase if we split up,” Hotch pointed out. Spencer mused on this, and then he nodded in agreement; he wouldn’t have very much luck making chase in these shoes, and he didn’t have a gun under this dress, or cuffs, either. Trying to apprehend a suspect in this getup would be ridiculous at best, downright dangerous at worst. He needed to stay with Hotch.

They sat side-by-side at the bar. Spencer reached up and disentangled the poofy, blonde, Dolly Parton-esque wig from his hair and let it fall to the counter with a dull thump. At the sight of it, Hotch gave a muted smile—or something Spencer could only describe as a smile. The disco lights reflected in his eyes, giving them a certain illustrious gleam which drew Spencer into their depths. “The wig suits you. You clean up well.” Clean up well? Spencer felt a lot of things right now, but clean wasn’t one of them. He sat in a seedy club with smoke clogging up the vents, too loud pop music, flashing lights that hurt his eyes, the stench of vomit and liquor and everything in between, and he wore an ill-fitting drag dress with six inch heels, gaudy costume makeup, and a heavy hot wig that someone else had certainly sweated in before him.

The whole thing struck Spencer as fairly bizarre—that Hotch offered him these compliments, the nature of them as a whole. Spencer wondered what, if anything, motivated him to speak in this way. If anything? Something had to be behind it. Hotch would never ordinarily speak to him this way. “Er, thanks,” Spencer said. “It gets really hot,” he admitted, “especially under the floodlights, and… well, this stuff isn’t mine, so I’m trying not to sweat in it.” He didn’t cart drag materials around to work with him in case he needed to go undercover; he’d borrowed everything from Peter, and lord knew who else Peter had loaned it out to over the years.

“I’m sure you wear it better than any of the other twinks that came before you.” Spencer’s face flushed at that. He fisted his hand in the wig on the table, trying to distract himself, and studied the men mulling behind them in the reflections of the glasses and the bottles as they passed by, trying to spot their subject. He went into the crowd around this area.

Every moment they sat here without seeing him was another moment of the possibility he had already chosen his victim, had already led him away, had already packed him up into his vehicle and driven him away to his final destination.

“See anything?” Spencer shook his head. Further down the bar, the distinct sound of Peter’s laughter crowed through the crowd, but Spencer couldn’t see him through the blur of people—nor did he particularly want to. Peter had already managed to humiliate him in front of Hotch once today (more than once, if he was being generous, since almost every word Peter had uttered had sunk Spencer to new depths of embarrassment), and Spencer didn’t care to repeat the event. “Tell me about your friend.”

Weird. Spencer knew they had to talk—they had to give the appearance that they were participating socially here. It wouldn’t look right if they sat here without speaking, and it could head someone off. “Peter? He’s… a lot.” Hotch could’ve asked him about anyone, and he asked him about Peter. Maybe… he’s interested in him? Spencer found that hard to believe, though; he found it difficult to think Hotch could ever be interested in someone like Peter. And besides, Peter had made it pretty clear that he was available for anything Hotch wanted. There was no need for Spencer to act as a liaison between the two of them. The mere thought made Spencer all hot and itchy and uncomfortable on the inside. “He’s not looking to settle down. He just wants to have as much fun as he can.” That was an accurate assessment of Peter.

“And you are? Looking to settle down.”

Spencer fidgeted with the jangly bracelets on his wrists. “Er… I don’t know. I don’t exactly have a settling down type of job, do I?” Hotch looked steadily back at him. This is a weird conversation. “I guess, if I found the right person… I just don’t see it happening, though.” What did Hotch have to gain from asking him these questions? They could’ve talked about anything and it would’ve kept up appearances. Even particle physics would’ve made Spencer more comfortable than he was right now, sharing intimate aspects of his personal life with Hotch at his request. I didn’t even want them to know I was gay.

In a few short hours, he had gone from completely closeted to his entire team seeing him in drag from head to toe. He didn’t know how he felt about that yet. The ambivalence of the moment plagued him, the satisfaction from knowing he was doing something good to stop a killer, the shame… Oh, the shame. Logic told him he had nothing to be ashamed off, that being gay wasn’t a bad or embarrassing thing, that no one on the team would judge him, that their disparaging remarks were just jokes. But he didn’t want to face those disparaging marks anyway, no matter how teasing. And Morgan would undoubtedly dangle this over his head for the rest of his life, the moment when Sparrow Wings went on stage to spot a killer from above.

Hotch crossed his arms, resting his elbows on the counter in front of them. “You could’ve said something sooner,” he said.

“I know.” Spencer jangled his bracelets. “I didn’t want to.”

“Why not?”

He drummed his fingers on the counter and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess JJ said it best, when she and Emily got together, that sometimes it’s easier not to have everyone up in their business. That we don’t really get to have secrets, so when there is something the rest of us don’t know about, it’s pretty sacred.” The rhythm of swinging the bands around his wrists grounded him in the moment. “And, I mean, Morgan is never going to let this go. He’s going to be making digs at me about this for the rest of our lives.”

Hotch inclined his eyebrows. “You’re right about that,” he confirmed grimly. “So you knew about JJ and Prentiss?”

Spencer nodded. “I was the only one who knew,” he said. “But… I didn’t know Rossi and Morgan were taking bets on, y’know, all of this.”

Hotch wore a somewhat grim look upon his face. “They still have one bet out on the rest of us.”

What? Spencer wanted to ask, and he jiggled his bracelets again, and finally, Hotch put his hand over Spencer’s wrist to still it and quiet the jingling. Spencer glanced down at where Hotch’s large hand covered his wrist. His stomach jumped and quivered at the sensation, the warmth of another skin pressing against his. The texture struck him, the roughness, the callouses on Hotch’s hands, the breadth of his grasp and his fingertips. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He gulped, trying to remember how to breathe and how to speak, because suddenly both of those things seemed incredibly difficult. “Sorry—” His voice sounded strangled, and he wasn’t sure why he apologized—for making the noise that had irritated Hotch, for this weird reaction, for something else, and why was Hotch still touching him?

“Don’t apologize.” Spencer’s lighter eyes darted up to Hotch’s in the shadows of the club. His tongue flitted out across his lips, wetting them. What can I say? Words failed Spencer, and he could only think of something he wanted to do, something which Hotch would almost certainly reject—

There. In the reflection of the wine bottle to Hotch’s right, Spencer saw him. He spun on the barstool, and Hotch whirled around after him. Spencer didn’t point. The man walked right past them. His gaze flicked to Spencer, and he smiled and winked a coy thing, and then he continued through the crowd. “You think that’s our guy?” Spencer asked.

“Yes.” Hotch hopped up from the barstool. “Stay close to him. He’s still rounding the floor, so he hasn’t picked a target yet. We can’t take him until we have evidence of wrongdoing.”

Spencer nodded. The crowd made room for him to pass through; after all, he was five inches taller than normal and wearing a sequin-strewn dress which made it difficult for him to miss. He stuck the blonde wig back on his head so he didn’t have to drag it around in his hand, stuffing it over his hair. The unsub stalked up behind a handful of guys chatting at the bar. Spencer grabbed the empty table directly across from them so they could keep a close eye on him—they wouldn’t risk losing him among the ocean of people again. Spencer’s jaw shifted in discomfort. “If he sees me again, he’s going to know something’s up. I’m too recognizable like this. He’s going to realize we’re following him.”

“We have to risk it.”

From the distance, they could not hear the unsub’s words or see the men he approached, nothing more than their silhouettes, but within a few minutes, it became clear he had targeted one man. He eased this man away from the others, placing himself between him and the rest of the group, secluding him. He waved his hand to the bartender and placed an order, and then his arm reached around the man’s waist, trailing over the small of his back. The unsuspecting victim sidled up close beside the unsub. He turned his head into his embrace. The flashing strobe lights of the club illuminated the victim’s silhouette. Spencer’s eyes widened. The man tossed his head back and laughed a familiar, braying laugh. Spencer upstarted from his seat—

Hotch’s arm coiled around his waist and anchored him to the spot. “Don’t.”

“That’s Peter! ” Spencer’s heart clenched in his chest.

“He’s safe. We’re watching him. They won’t get out of our line of sight.” Spencer tried to wriggle out from under Hotch’s arm, which fit all too well around his waist, like something familiar, like something meant to be there, like hundreds of millions of years of evolution had transpired just to lead to this moment where Hotch’s arm was meant to fit around his middle and hold him there, almost pressing their bodies against one another. “If you go now, you’ll blow our cover, he’ll pick a different club, and we’ll have more victims before we have a chance to catch him again. Do you want that to happen?”

Reluctantly, Spencer settled down in his chair, his face and stomach both churning. Everything inside of him constricted like a snake, tense and hot. Hotch did not withdraw his arm. “We can’t let them get out of this building.”

“And we won’t.” Hotch was making a promise—Spencer understood that. He prayed it wasn’t a promise he was going to break. “Can I trust you not to fling yourself at them like Norman Bates wearing his mother’s clothes, or do I need to keep holding you in place?”

Spencer’s face flamed. He sucked his front teeth. “Maybe,” he said softly, “you can trust me…” Or maybe I like this, the way it is right now.

“Maybe?” Hotch arched an eyebrow, daring Spencer to say something else.

Spencer held his gaze. He did not fold. Sparrow Wings, after all, did not fold. She was a powerful woman, and she wouldn’t buckle, no matter how Hotch stared at her, and she would have no problem telling him exactly what she wanted—but she also didn’t give a flying fuck if Spencer was still employed tomorrow, so Spencer had to make some executive decisions on how much he allowed her influence to take over right now. “Or maybe… I think this is good for our undercover act. Maybe I think we blend right in, like this.”

The scent of Hotch’s cologne wafted off of his body from the proximity between them. In spite of Spencer’s layers of clothes and the heavy makeup and that damn wig (he left it on now, in case he needed to make a run for it and didn’t want to leave it behind), he craved the warmth bleeding through Hotch’s suit, the heat metabolized by Hotch’s blood and tissues through every minute of every day. Spencer found it intoxicating.

He didn’t imbibe any longer, but if he wanted to get drunk on anything, he thought he would start with the scent of Hotch’s cologne.

“Is that so?” Hotch asked, and his words sounded almost like a dare. “This is good for being undercover?” Spencer nodded. “Is that all?”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but the unsub began to turn, as if to glance behind him, and Spencer didn’t have a moment to think; at the first glimpse of movement, Hotch grabbed him, spun him around with his back to the unsub, and dragged him into a bruising, open-mouthed kiss. Spencer blinked hard, once, twice, This is a dream, this whole thing has been a weird dream, I’m going to wake up now and it’s going to make so much sense— Hotch’s hands intertwined in his wig, obscuring as much as his body from view as possible, and Spencer watched in the reflection of the wine glasses on the table as the unsub surveyed the room behind him and did not take note of Spencer, in spite of his colorful garb.

After all, two guys shoving their tongues down each other’s throats were pretty inconspicuous in the middle of a gay club.

The rough stubble from Hotch’s face scratched into Spencer’s, chin to chin, cheek to cheek. The unsub had turned around, but Hotch didn’t stop, molding Spencer’s mouth to his own like a potter over a lump of clay. Their tongues twisted and danced to the beat of the flashing lights and dropping bass, until Hotch pulled away and Spencer gasped for breath. His head spun. His limbs felt heavy. His stomach felt light. His head felt like butterflies had tossed out every piece of information he had ever known and now battered their wings against the inside of his skull, seeking a way out.

Arm around Peter’s back, the unsub pulled back from the bar, and they walked away from the bar, all wound up in one another. Hotch jumped up, hand wrapped around the inside of Spencer’s elbow, and jogged after them. “Do you know where they’re going?”

Spencer shook the delirium from the forefront of his mind. “Exit A, it’s the easiest way out without being spotted—”

“You stay on them, I’ll go around back, and we should be able to trap him.”

Before Spencer could say another word, Hotch vanished from sight, and Spencer trotted after the unsub and Peter, keeping them in his sights. He folded himself back between a pillar and the wall when the unsub glanced behind them, and when they rounded the corner, Spencer caught up to them, watching as they approached the exit.

The red lights from the sign marking the outlet illuminated their faces. “Before we go,” purred the unsub, “I’ve got a surprise for you.” He held his hands behind his back. Spencer spotted the refraction of light off of the blade of the knife he concealed. “Are you ready?” Peter nodded. “Close your eyes…”

“FBI!” Spencer ducked out from his hiding place in the shadows. “Put your hands up! You’re under arrest!” Hotch is right outside, he’s waiting right outside this door—

“Spencer, what the hell? We were just about to—” The knife clattered to the floor, and the door swung open. The unsub sprinted through the door out into the darkness of the night.

Spencer chased after him. “Stay right here!” he called over his shoulder to Peter.

The unsub vaulted himself over the railing of the short staircase and landed clumsily on the asphalt. Spencer hit the railing. He couldn’t climb over it—if he landed wrong in these shoes, he’d snap an ankle. Hotch rounded the corner. Spencer tore the shoes off his feet. “Where’s he going?”

Holding the heels in his left hand, Spencer jumped over the railing. “Around the block—you go that way, there’s an old plywood fence, he’ll come over that and meet you, I’ll stay behind him—”

His bare feet slapped the stony surface of the asphalt, kicking up old loose pebbles, splinters, and shattered glass, as again he and Hotch separated. In hot pursuit of the unsub, Spencer did not let the pain in his feet distract him. The shadow of the unsub up ahead circled the block, headed toward the fence, where Spencer had known he would try to climb to escape.

He flung himself up over the fence. Spencer stood there, watching him. From the other side, Hotch called, “FBI! Put your hands up!”

The unsub teetered there on top of the fence for a moment. He looked down at Hotch, then back at Spencer… and he dropped back onto Spencer’s side of the fence. Hotch discharged his weapon, but he missed. The bullet glanced off of the side of the brick wall beside them and ricocheted. Oh, shit. The unsub barreled toward Spencer.

Spencer didn’t have a weapon. He didn’t have handcuffs, or a taser, or a baton. He had himself, his wig, his bare feet, and the stilettos in his left hand—in his hand as he held up his hands to brace himself for impact as the unsub jumped on top of him.

The man intended to knock Spencer down and keep going. Spencer grabbed onto him, hands fisting into his clothes, dragging him to the asphalt. Spencer’s dress tore where it caught under his feet. “Don’t go anywhere!” Spencer couldn’t overpower him, but he could stall him long enough for Hotch to get over the fence and help.

An elbow shoved across Spencer’s face. Pain shot through his nose. White light blinded him. He tasted blood. A hand clawed its way into his mouth. He snapped his teeth together. He tasted more blood. “Get off me, you stupid fairy!” The man thrashed. Spencer took his left hand, the one with the shoes, and smacked him in the face.

The resulting shriek of agony shook the alleyway. The brick walls trembled with the power of it. Spencer, blinking through the pain, landed on top of the unsub with both knees between his shoulder blades, hands pinning the man’s arms to the ground, but he didn’t try to fight anymore. Now, he only tried to curl up into a ball, hands reaching for his own face, where the heel of one of Spencer’s stilettos had penetrated his eye, the shoe still fixed there and dangling.

Hotch vaulted himself over the fence. “What the hell, Reid?” Spencer wiped a smear of blood away from his nose, sliding off of the unsub when Hotch took him and cuffed him. “What’s the matter with you?”

Spencer stiffened. “I don’t have a gun. I had to improvise.” I didn’t exactly intend to impale his eye with my high heel, but it stopped him.

“So you weaponized stilettos ?” Hotch repeated, aghast. “Why aren’t you concealed carrying?”

“Do you see anywhere for me to conceal a weapon in this outfit?”

Hotch scanned Spencer, his heavy costume makeup sweating off, his blonde wig all askew, his skintight dress torn, many of his jangly bracelets lost in the chase, his bare feet cut and bloodied from racing along the glass-littered pavement, blood trickling down his nose. His gaze lingered on Spencer in an almost affectionate way. “Not the kind of weapon we use.”

Spencer’s whole body flushed.

The unsub turned his head from where Hotch pressed his face into the concrete. “It hurts! ” he wailed desperately. “My eye! You ugly fag, my eye —”

Hotch pressed one broad hand to the column of his throat. “If you call him that again, I’ll finish the job with the other shoe.”

A tingle rushed through Spencer as the unsub squeaked and fell into silence.

…

At Quantico, Spencer looked at himself in the mirror of the men’s bathroom, his face still dirty and stained from wrestling the unsub on the ground. His feet had pressure wrappings around them where they fit in his shoes; the paramedics had painstakingly dug the glass out of the soles of his feet and then treated the wounds. With gauze stuffed up the bleeding nostril of his nose, he looked worse for wear, though he had returned to his preferred clothes—his pants, his sweater vest, his long-sleeved shirt.

He stared at his reflection, hair all dirty and messy, face beginning to break out from the low quality makeup. Huh, he thought as he looked at himself. The whole thing felt so surreal. Had Hotch really kissed him? Had Hotch really put an arm around his body to hold him in place? Had Hotch really planted the heel of his hand against a man’s throat and threatened to blind him if he said another word against Spencer?

Was Hotch really entering the bathroom right now, silently nearing him, reaching for the paper towels, wetting one with warm water, pressing it to Spencer’s face, wiping away the itchy makeup and the dirt?

“You alright?” Hotch’s voice breached the calm. He smoothed the paper towel down Spencer’s face, not enough to hurt him, but firmly enough to take away most of the heavy makeup and dirt. When he’d soiled one paper towel, he wetted another one.

In the mirror, as Hotch stripped the layers of grime from his face, the rash underneath became more apparent. “Yeah,” Spencer replied. “I’m fine.” He looked away from his reflection in the mirror and glimpsed at Hotch’s face, afraid to let his gaze linger for too long—afraid of what he would or wouldn’t see. “Can I ask you something?” Hotch gave a noncommittal hum of agreement. “Why are you still here? Everyone else went home.”

Hotch ceased his ministrations, having gotten the most grime off of Spencer’s face, and he returned his gaze, a surprisingly tender expression on his face. “You made a pretty big sacrifice to catch this guy, and I owe it to you to make sure you’re okay.” Spencer grunted in response. He wondered if Hotch had something else to say. “Have you talked to Peter?”

Oh. Right. Again, Hotch expressed interest in Peter, and again, Spencer wondered if he meant to suggest something else. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s—he’s shaken up, but he’ll be alright. I think he’s thinking about taking a break from the club, though.” Hotch opened a tube of cream—anti-itch cream, Spencer noted. He squirted a small amount onto his fingertips and applied it to the rash covering Spencer’s face. “How did you…”

“You always get sun poisoning when we’re in the field,” Hotch said. The intimacy of this moment took Spencer aback, his face in Hotch’s hands as Hotch massaged a soothing lotion into his skin. “I thought the cosmetics might irritate your skin.” Spencer didn’t know what to say in response. “When will I get the opportunity to see Sparrow Wings again?” he asked as he capped the tube of lotion, having rubbed the cream into Spencer’s skin completely, leaving no residue.

Spencer puffed a short breath from his nose. “I think Sparrow Wings is retired permanently.” He spun his watch around his wrist. It didn’t jangle annoyingly like the bracelets had. “Everybody’s going to know she’s an undercover cop now. Gay people don’t like it when cops invade their spaces. The last time it happened, there was this big riot. You may have heard about it.” He crossed his arms, guarding himself—from what, he wasn’t quite sure. Was Hotch just mocking him in some elaborate joke? Asking about his drag persona, asking about Peter, cleaning his face, applying the medicated lotion, was it all some farce?

Spencer didn’t think so, but he also knew better than to trust anyone’s intentions.

A small, easy smile spread across Hotch’s face. “Then maybe I could arrange a private show.”

Spencer studied Hotch’s face in the strange, fluorescent light of the bathroom, seeking any hint of deception upon him, but he found nothing—nothing but the same steady and forthright look in those hickory eyes. Spencer’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Are you…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence, the question, any of it.

Yet, Hotch still understood. “I am.” Hotch kissed him again. Now, Spencer understood, too. Hotch severed the kiss. “If you are—”

“I am.”

Hotch breathed a short sigh of relief. “Rossi and Morgan break even again.”

Spencer paused. “What?”

“The last bet. Rossi’s money is on this.”

Spencer blinked in surprise. Then, he shrugged. “Guess it’s better if they don’t owe each other.” He followed Hotch out of the bathroom, feeling lighter than he had felt in years.

#hotchreid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer's writing

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donvex · 4 years

Text

Does zukka fit a flower shop/tattoo shop trope? No, absolutely not. Am I writing head canons for it anyway? Yes, because I want to, and I said so, so I’ll make this work

-zuko loves the arts. Has loved the arts since he was young. He passion starts in the theater, and that’s where he starts to branch out

-maybe, just maybe, he leans away from theater a little bit because of his dad

-he doesn’t really talk about it, but he knows that he ended up going into his field because it was a little bit more masculine

-it takes a couple of years and a lot of therapy for him to separate his history with his dad from the work he very much loves to do, even if he started for all the wrong reasons

-but he’s good at it

-he’s a really good fucking tattoo artist

-zuko does almost exclusively in blackwork

-on occasion he does spot color, and ok of course his signature spot color is red, because its BOLD

-but he really really loves blackwork

-there’s a flower shop on the same block as the shop he works at

-but lets get this straight sokka absolutely does not own this flower shop

-aang does. Sweet sweet aang, who’s a vegetarian, who gifts his beautiful girlfriend katara flowers every other week despite the fact that its literally from his work

-katara loves it no I do not take criticism

-sokka just likes to stop by to bully aang hang out

-a lot

-its also because katara hangs out there so often and sokka just really loves his sister okay

-plus sometimes he brings his work (he’s an engineer, what a smart boy) and works in the back room, paperwork and math and all the administrative stuff

-there’s a little restaurant around the corner that the gaang goes to all the time, its cozy and warm and they don’t mind when their group gets a little too rowdy because they’re nice and they tip as best as they can for young adults in these trying times

-anyway every single person in the goddamn world works on this street okay

-yes this restaurant is iroh’s. We like it that way

-iroh is very nice to them and they are very nice back

-zuko does live in the area but come on, cities are big, you don’t run into people you know ALL the time

-even when they hang out at your uncle’s restaurant all the time

-zuko also has weird hours. He kinda sets up his own schedule, especially around his clients appointments

-but one day zuko is at the shop and a client is a no show, which always sucks even though he has their security deposit, so instead of sulking and going all the way home, he grabs his bag and heads to iroh’s

-settles down in a corner there, out of the way, with a sketchbook and headphones in so he can work on a flash sheet

-his uncles presence is warm and inviting just like his restaurant and zuko feels better just for being there

-and then, even over his music, he hears someone go “hey! He did my tattoos!”

-and zuko looks up to see the gaang, only one of which he recognizes - ya know, cuz you kinda don’t forget doing a massive body-scale blue arrow tattoo?

-and aang didn’t really intend for it to become anything, he was just excited, but zuko also isn’t sure because he’s awkward so he does say hi

-and the gang just kind of hovers over his flash sheet for a while and invites him in and somehow he ends up at their usual table

-(maybe its because he’s AT their usual table, he realizes. Small world, everyone wants the corner)

-now let’s not forget

-sokka is a bisexual disaster

-zuko is beautiful and sokka kinda wants to hate him for it? He doesn’t but he would love to

-also he doesn’t see any tattoos on zuko so he’s skeptical like aang are you SURE you didn’t hit your head

-toph is delighted no I did not forget her she just is too good of a character for me to write her justly

-but anyway she punches sokka (with affection) any time he voices too much skepticism

-on a different day, sokka goes in to zuko’s shop, because he’s around and he wants to see it for himself

-he isn’t allowed to watch zuko work of course, but he does get to watch zuko come out with a finished client and take some pictures of it

-it’s very impressive, and okay, maybe he DID do gang’s tattoos

-which just means sokka is smitten

-zuko is also smitten do not worry. They are both disasters

-zuko gets adopted into the gaang and they start to hang out. Their shops are so close, they love iroh, their ages are similar, and they get along after enough time. Its nice. Zuko likes it

-one day it rains, and gets really humid, and its fucking hot. So zuko finally takes off that dumb beat up leather jacket he always wears, only this time its not covering a long sleeves shirt, he’s wearing a tank top

-and sokka takes it back because zuko not only has tattoos, but they WORK for him

-zuko doesn’t have any shitty tattoos, because he spent so long dreaming of the theater and thinking that he couldn’t have tattoos if he ever wanted to be on stage, that by the time he finally acknowledged that his dreams had changed, he was working with and around tattoo artists and could afford to jump straight to full on intricate sleeves that took several sessions each

-it is the only good thing his father has ever given him. Jk he doesn’t credit his father for shit and somewhere in this universe there is room for his father to go to jail. Its already happened, and he’s sure he’ll have to tell his new friends at some point, but not now. He doesn’t wanna

-anyway his tattoos are beautiful. And all botanical

-they all have little scientific names nestles between the branches and stems, it dips below his clothes line, but they’re gorgeous

-pretty much everyone wonders why the fuck he doesn’t show them off, but he shrugs

-“I do, just not. here.”

-he likes to be recognized for his OWN work on his street, by his shop. Not for the work that’s on him

-aang is very excited and begs him in that way where you don’t REALLY have the option to say no to come look at his flower shop

-zuko does, its very pretty

-sokka pays attention to all the flowers and colors he likes

-color was hard. Zuko only does blackwork, how is he supposed to know which color flowers to give him?

-if he ever asks zuko out. Which he’s gonna at some point, because aang may be happily oblivious (or is that just his own way of playing the game? Sokka never knows) but katara is onto him and he has a limited amount of time to ask before katara does it from him

-they meet at the shop, the whole gaang, but this time everyone shuffles out early to leave the two dumb boys alone, and sokka asks to walk zuko home

-“idiot! You’re supposed to take him OUT not HOME”

-but the walk is nice and sweet and then, sadly, too short

-but sokka does make it a habit

-eventually he gives zuko a package and dashes away after their walk

-its a picture frame, with a bunch of pressed flowers, collaged in with snippets of poetry. zuko can tell they’re from different books, because the sizes and kerning and fonts are all different, and that’s a nice touch of detail

-when he looks them up, he finds a couple of them are from plays, not poetry books, and he binges the plays

-it also comes with a note from sokka that says “you get what I’m saying, so just. Text me if you wanna talk about it”

-he does text sokka

-they go out on a very nice date to a restaurant that ISNT owned by zuko’s uncle, and then go out on many more dates after that

-aang is always happy to give sokka discounts on flowers. sokka’s favorite thing to do is (have aang) make bouquets up of the flowers zuko has tattooed

-(Occasionally, when he gets The Zuko Bouquet, he tells aang a new flower to add to it. aang doesn’t ask, but he does smile. He’s very happy for sokka)

-(turns out zuko’s entire back is covered in tattoos too. sokka is going to lose his mind)

#zukka #headcanons #flower shop au #tattoo shop au #my writing #atla

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kawaiikatchi · 4 years

Text

My Thoughts on Case 4 for Great Pretender (Part 1 of 2)

SPOILERS FOR CASE 4(EPISODES 15-23) PLEASE GO WATCH BEFORE READING

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

For some reason, I have a very complicated relationship with Case 4. Whenever I think about it, it feels like two parts of myself are having a debate with one another, and I can't decide who is winning because they're both right.

Let's just start from the beginning. Keep in mind that I've only watched this chunk of episodes once, so this will be my honest first impressions of how I think the show concluded (does anyone know if we're getting a season 2???).

THE GREAT

To start off with a lot of the positives for this case, I LOVED the heart to heart moment that Edamura and Laurent had at the beginning. It felt very necessary, considering that it was rare that these two would sit down and talk about something serious. It was nice, even if you're not looking at it through a shipping lense like I am (yes, I ship Laurent and Edamame, and no I will not feel ashamed) that Laurent could give him advice considering that they both fell into becoming con artists because they had no real path in life. As we learn more about Laurent's backstory through this arc, it becomes a lot more obvious that Laurent sees a bit of his younger self in Edamura, but his comment about doing what Edamura thinks is right shows that Laurent, at least on some level, recognizes the fact that Edamura isn't Laurent, and he has the freedom to be whatever person he wants to be despite what the blonde confidence man may want for him.

I also enjoyed this case when it explored Edamura's charcter (even though it kinda came at the expense of Laurent's character, but we'll get there). He definitely has been through the most highs and lows (actually mostly lows) of the series, making his decent to the darkside all the more interesting. I wasn't all that worried that he would betray the team or die when it was time to put the last phases of their plan into motion, (heck, we had two boat scenes where four people in total seemingly "died" yet they all turned out to be alright) but I was definitely worried as to how all this was going to affect Edamura's mental state. Throughout the series he has repeatedly gotten the short end of the stick, attempting to make his own life decisions only to find out Laurent was one step ahead of him. Then in one of the most crucial moments of the show, Edamura's good deed unintentionally gets two of his closest allies killed, making him go into a murderous rage and killing his own father. At least, that's what it looked like on the surface. Until he finds out that that too was a part of Laurent's plan, and once again it seems as if nothing Edamura does will ever be of his own free will. There is one line in particular that kinda hits different after now finishing the show, and it's what Edamura says to his father after finding out the truth of what's been going on behind the scenes.

"Everything Laurent had me do until now was a practice run for this, wasn't it?....I'll do it...Just like I'm told." (Episode 21)

At this point in the story, Edamura has completely given up control of his own life. He tried at one point to write his own destiny, but it got people hurt in the process. Even hearing the fact that the deaths were staged just reaffirmed the idea in his mind that nothing he ever does will truly mean anything. It's all just a game where someone else will always be the one pulling the strings. I think this is also one of the main reasons he stayed so close to Akemi Suzaku. He knew that all he could do is play the part they told him to play, because he had no more fight left to go against it. That and they'd probably kill him if he tried to leave again, and he may or may not have viewed her as a mother figure after his mother passed away. In the case of switching sides and betraying Suzaku Akemi, his life wouldn't really be that much different than what it already was. Sure he wouldn't be helping with illegal trafficking anymore, but he'd still be following someone else's plan for his life. It would just be a matter of which plan he's going to follow, Laurent's or Akemi's. Either way, he loses.

This is when I think the advice that Laurent gave Edamura at the beginning is the most applicable (funny how Laurent was giving him the solution to the problem that he started without even realizing it). The advice from earlier is also emphasized to a higher degree by Abby when she says:

"You're no longer trapped by gravity. Malice, envy...You can be free from everything. That's what you said. Who you decieve or betray is totally up to you. Do what you like. Just...forgive yourself. That's what saved me." (Episode 23)

This speech that Abby gives to Edamura is perfect in every sense of the word. Instead of saying something like "hey you better not betray us", she communicates to Edamura very eloquently that the problem isn't whether or not he'll betray Akemi, Laurent, Abby or Cynthia, but rather if he will choose to keep betraying himself. Will he keep giving up what he wants for the sake of others? He needs to decide that on his own, and once he finds his answer he needs to forgive himself.

At first glance, I thought "well Makoto ends up contributing to the success of Laurent's scheme, so what's the difference this time?" The difference: Makoto is in the perfect position to betray Laurent, plus he has every reason to do so, but he doesn't. Because that's not who he is. He's not Laurent. He's not his father. He's not Akemi. He's Makoto Edamura. For probably the first time in the series, Edamura is able to make Laurent follow his plan instead of the other way around, outsmarting him and showing everyone that he is the only one in charge of his destiny. He's not helping with the con for his allies, Akemi or Ozaki. He's doing it for himself.

Changing subjects completely to another thing that I liked about episodes 15-23, is that I did enjoy what we did get of Laurent's development. Despite the fact that later in my review, I'm gonna kinda complain about Laurent's story (more of just from a story structure perspective), Great Pretender KNOWS how to make a charcter's backstory engaging. They also seem well equipped to write romances, as I thought that Laurent and Dorothy had some definitive cute moments together. It was intriguing to see how the ever confident Laurent got his start as well, and how he grew to become who he is today. In addition to that, I loved how the show was able to bring us back to the first episode by showing the important events that led up to it (especially how Laurent met Abby and Cynthia). For some reason, I'm a sucker for when shows try to pull the "remember when it all began" nostalgia card for their own show. Very well executed.

Finally, the last great thing that I'll mention about the Great Pretender finale, was the ending. I wasn't sure how I felt about it upon first viewing, but after some deliberation, it just makes sense. The group ends up going their separate ways while still staying somewhat connected. Abby looks like she's become a bit of a traveler, while Edamura is journeying to taste a bunch of different coffee (fitting). Cynthia is taking care of a kid named Kawin, who looks like he might be considering becoming an artist (Cynthia will always be surrounded by artistic people, she has no choice lol), and Laurent is working for the president of the United States I guess???? All of these life decisions are just believable enough for me to buy it, so I won't complain. I guess I just have a bit of bittersweet emotions towards the ending, since the characters seem so content with where they are now, but I was kinda hoping for a another season of their shenanigans. I really need to stop getting attached to shows right before they are about to end. However, if this was truly the end of the Great Pretender series, I'm glad it ended in the way that it did. I feel conned.

Next time: the not so good, but still decent things about Great Pretender Case 4.

(Continued in Part 2 of 2 (Coming Soon))

#laurent #makoto x laurent #great pretender #case 4 #case 4 spoilers #makoto edamura #makoto edamame

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anonil88 · 4 years

Text

A Green Night on the Town.

Is this a modern au? No. Ruby and Christina end up meeting the neighbors as William and Hillary. But Ruby wants to go to the bar and live a little, 👀.

Ruby Baptiste X Christina Braithwhite

Inspired by comments and posts by @dreaduquesne and @taylor144. I did do some research for this, the one song is from the 1960s but we are gonna pretend it's not. If you are going to be negative just for negativity sake please don’t. Wanted to post this before tonight’s episode where this ship may go down in flames. One more ep left after tonight *insert sad emojis*

Songs in order of appearance in story: Put on my Shoes by Mary Anne Fisher, I don't know by Ruth Brown, One Man's Poison by Liz Lands, It's Your Voodoo Working by Charles Sheffield.

MATURE RATING

LINK TO STORY ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

Ruby sat in the Bentley checking her image in the side mirror. The red lipstick she reapplied was new and came in a gold bullet with roses carved into it. It was the shade Ruby and she got it on one of her shopping adventures. As Hillary of course. The matte color clashed with Hillary's choice of clothing but perfectly matched her pink dress with red and blue flowers stitched onto it. She wasn't only checking her face but looking out for unfriendly neighbors.

In the weeks she's been with Christina in the house, the looks she's gotten are usually not friendly. Kids and parents alike staring her up and down like she is trash. In her most unholy form of self they smiled "Fake ass white folks ," she thinks. They were lucky most white people did not want trouble knowing William lived with her openly. As openly as they could be, the city of Chicago has always cared less about couples like them but the people sure do care enough. Ruby glances at the door that sits far behind iron gates.

After her day out, William introduced her to some of the neighbors on another street who had kids. Kids who looked innocent playing in the streets. A group of men talking on the street flagged the Pontiac down making Ruby tense but William's hand rested atop hers in the middle of the seat. They spoke across her wondering where they could get themselves a car and a woman that. William chuckled and made small talk which Ruby side eyed her partner for.

That led to them both getting out of the car introducing themselves to these men and their wives as Hillary and William Davenport. An invitation for dinner came from one wife who kept commenting on the bump in Hillary's hair too nicely. Ruby heard a little bit of Christina's snark in Williams no and tampened that response with, "Sorry we have plans tonight." Which thankfully was accepted and before then they had no plans but now Ruby wanted to spend the night dancing to music, maybe singing just a little. As herself, after an exhausting day of keeping up with the Joneses or Smiths or whatever white slave master name they probably shared with a poorer distant cousin on the Southside. Damn she kinda missed the Southside. Christina had been before but not like this.

She sees a teenage boy dragging a trash can down the driveway next door but listens to the sound of feet making their way down the walkway. Slowly she puts the lipstick in her purse that will get left in the back seat because tonight she wants nothing to hold her back. Ruby watches Christina open and lock the gate with her back turned. Hair perfectly swooped to the side even in moonlight.

The tall blonde was in a green dress fitted at the waist that was far too fancy for whatever jazz joint they were bound to end up in. It looked new but Ruby swore Christina had too big of a closet, almost big enough for two people. William had a vest in a similar color, he wore a few days ago...well she wore Ruby guesses. Christina looks nice as she saunters towards the silver drivers side and Ruby bit the inside of her lip. There was something about the way the woman was so sure and confident in her walk, how she sat, or how she inserted the silver key into the ignition. Even when she was out dressing her for a simple night on the town. Those long hands just so handling the key before slipping...

Ruby swallows her jealous admiration and rolls her eyes, "Seriously?"

"What, is this too much ?" Christina asks, smoothing her fingertips over the leather of the steering wheel. She leans over Ruby likely too close and slips a vial of William's blood in the glove box. Giving Ruby an amused stare that makes Ruby roll her eyes even harder. Christina thinks of this as a game, one they both play. There are days she has already taken her potion and is dressed in slacks eating breakfast. Ruby will saunter into the kitchen dressed in a number that makes Christina wonder if keeping Ruby hostage would be so bad. Probably, if Leticia found out there would be a makeshift army outside her front door.

"Ha," Ruby laughs out loud and Christina smiles, "You fucking think, it's a jazz joint not the Ritz. Who in the Sam Hill are you trying to impress tonight?"

Christina lowers her eyes to Ruby's lips. She thinks of just exactly who she was continually trying to impress as covertly as possible. Ruby looks away and back realizing Christina is still staring at her like....that. She does it in William's skin too, those eyes sizing her up. Two piercing blue eyes always staring at her so deeply Ruby thinks she could burst into flames. No matter the face she does find it hard to look away.

"Don't look at me like that. I warned you about that, now drive." Ruby says crossing her arms in her lap listening to the engine come alive. Christina grins to herself but keeps her words to herself as she shifts the car into drive.

The night leads them to Vesey's where Ruby is plenty filled with free drinks. She already sang at the last spot with a band but her presence rouses the crowd that is already not slow at all tonight. The bar is more packed than normal and Ruby forgets to ask why. She did hear Sammy whisper across the bar to a man next to her something about a discreet open door to friends of Dorothy for once. As soon as her and her unlikely plus one arrived, Christina said she'd be fine on her own.

Ruby took that for truth but tried to read her half truth anyway. Christina held her own well but not like this...this would be a first. That was something Christina would say often "a first" with practically anything it made Ruby wonder if her secret-sometimes lover had any childhood or life at all before her sister came barreling into that mansion.

The whiskey is neat on her tongue as she tosses it back quickly before blearily grinning at Sammy. Tonight felt good and light and fun. No white eyes staring at her making her feel undone in front of them. Ruby in her skin surrounded by her kin and music that was sewn into her spirit. No matter how sad the lyrics could get the beat was full of life.

"And we have our resident songstress in the crowd tonight," someone on the small stage called out. Whistles came from the bar and the crowd mid dance at the stage. Andre, the young barkeep, winking at her taking her lipstick stained glass back behind the bar.

"I guess that's my cue Dre," Ruby raised her brows at him. He nods back, touching her hand sitting on the bar lightly. He sure was cute, she thought before slowly getting up from the stool. She makes her way past the packed house and in front of the band playing. Shouts and hollers come from the crowd as she holds out her hands.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the Ruby Baptiste." The man pushes the mic in her hand and whispers good luck to her. She isn't a stranger to singing while drunk or singing well while drunk. Not even with a big audience but there is a feeling of nerves in her fingers as she grips the mic and slips it back in the stand.

"Hello Southside," Ruby says into the mic. Whistles get louder and someone bangs on the bar. This crowd definitely had some new faces in it but they were smiling or leaning against someone else like lustful animals. "Alrighty i guess y'all are entitled to a few songs."

Someone yells from a booth, "Yea, where you been Ruby left us on the south side for the north side."

Ruby laughs into the mic, " Y'all think I would leave this behind never!" She looks at the guitarist, "maybe you." Folks gossiping was always a trend her name sour on so many people's mouths.

Everyone laughs in response and she laughs quietly to herself. She whispers to the band "Put on my shoes".

Ruby sways with the band as they start before leaning into the mic.

"Should I feel a little hot, you almost drive me insane, All your good intentions. Seem to wash right down the drain, put yourself in my place. You'll see what I mean and you'll know how I feel. And you'll feel, you'll feel a pain in your heart."

Ruby scans the crowd with her eyes, landing on random spots of the crowd that look more enthused then others. Her voice still gravels out...

"Baby I've been let down more times than I can remember how you cheated on poor lil me from January to December. Put yourself in my place. You'll see what I mean and you'll know how I feel."

Her hand cradles the mic as she throws her words into it. She knows that pain even if it is not her current romance. Her heart had been split open once or twice before. Maybe that's why she held her heart back in this thing with William, Christina, or as Montrose called them Chrilliam.

"And you'll feel you'll feel a pain in your heart. I've always been faithful and I've always been true but there's gotta be the death gotta be a change in you."

Fuck him, she thought throwing her anguish in het voice before leaning back up to scan the crowd.

"Put on my shoes for a day.

Put on my shoes for a week.

Put on my shoes for a month or two, know what I've been through."

If only she could make a spell or potion, so that Christina could understand. Understand why she gets so angry and frustrated with the woman in and outside of her own blackness. She finally finds the blonde blending in surprisingly well. Christina has a drink in hand leaning against the wall, watching her. Blue eyes sweeping across the stage as Ruby moves about the space. Instead of looking away Ruby croons out....

"Go on and have fun after all is said and done."

Someone bemoans out yes sing Ruby sing. Ruby watches Christina stare at her not breaking the tension between the two of them. If this was an empty house it would be much more obvious that Ruby had been stuck. Stuck on the way Christina clutched the glass in her hand to her lips. The way her eyes didn't waver or move from Ruby eyeing her up and down.

"Put on my shoes you'll get the blues the blues the blues if you put on my shoes."

The song starts to end and Ruby finally looks away. Her heart is beating so loudly it could probably take over for Gordy the drummer if they need be. If only Christina could know authentically how it felt to be in skin like hers. Not some misplaced gesture that could have gotten her dumb ass killed...if only.

Christina half listens to the short woman sharing the table with her. She did not care at all what the woman was saying but she fully understood she had no power in this establishment. Magically yes, but physically she was the outsider here. If someone wanted to sit at the same table in this bar they could. This bar was thick with smoke, heat, and loud. Christina observed it all, everyone seemed at home in this small establishment. A home full of strangers that couldn't cross into Lincoln Park with that same joy and comfort. She didn't understand that feeling but she also never really had a "home" to connect to. A comfort as distant as her ability to empathize with these people.

A taller full figured woman stands next to the shorter darker one before sitting down eyeing Christina up and down. Which Christina doesn't change her one note expression for. The shorter woman is still yapping on about something and Christina flits her eyes between the two. At some point the taller one leans in and introduces herself as Celia. Christina leans in a bit to hear her and nods. Celia has a cool confidence she immediately picks up on instead of the jittery energy in between them.

"Isn't this wild Cil I've never seen a white woman walk in this place alone," the short one finally says in between winds of her story.

Celia smiles at Christina and says lowly, "Alone is right." Christina sees something in the taller woman's eye and grits her teeth a bit. She isn't alone, not really, with Ruby in the same building. But neither of them is kept and Ruby doesn't often kiss her without the pieces of William stuck to her skin.

"What's he coming over here all fancy like for, she's just white. Not royalty." a man in the booth next to the table huffs out loud enough for Christina to hear. One purpose most likely she knows.

Christina turns and sees the owner of the bar walking over to the table with a tray holding a wine glass filled with red. A few bystanders jump out of his way or side eye him. This didn't seem like the place where people went to for a glass of wine. Sammy was his name, she remembers that from her own bits of research on her extended family. She has also heard whispers that he was or is linked to her cousin's father, in that way. He stops in front of her and places the glass on the table.

"On the house Braithwhite." Sammy purses his lips a little at her and she crosses her eyes at him. "A request from..." the stage he mouths. She softens her look when he walks away and pulls the glass to her. Sipping it she almost laughs, it's an awful merlot that tastes like pennies. The copper taste sits on her tongue and her eyes go wide. Slipping her hand into the pockets on her dress she feels for the glass vial that should be there. After a moment of panic she feels the cold glass pulling it out a bit to ensure it's still full. It is. She sighs relief into the glass and sips it again.

The music from the band is still blaring as the crowd in front of the seating area sways and moves back and forth. No singing comes through the air and Christina leans her neck slightly to find Ruby on the stage or in the crowd. It takes a bit before a wheezy laugh proceeds and sees a man on stage with Ruby. He is swaying behind her as she holds the mic singing into the mic,

"Could a heart so right be led so wrong if his love is weak would it last this long. I don't know but I hope and pray that he comes my way oh oh."

Christina grips at her own thigh with the hand still sitting in her pocket.

The horn player toots out loudly and Ruby turns around lightly pushing away the tall built man behind her. It was all in good fun as the band kept playing and he sidled back up to her slipping his hands back to her waist teasingly. She hears the band transition into another song while she dances on stage. Left, right, left, right. She feels her hips sway away from the fingers resting above her dress. She recognizes this song and shakes her shoulders along to the music that's all around her. Looking back at the crowd she can see the stares that she is receiving from the men in the crowd. It is all temptation and fire from many directions but Ruby shrugs to herself. She did not come for a man, she had one of those already, which was obvious others heard about. Her core tightens thinking of that man, so adept with the way he took care of her. Where is he? She wonders looking back to the table she sent that bottom shelf wine to earlier. She sees Christina but Christina is holding a conversation with a glass half full. A conversation that Ruby blinks at, a woman, a very pretty light skinned girl is undressing Christina with her eyes. Ruby knows she can't hide the look on her face and bites her tongue. It earns her an, “Ooo gurl what's on your mind,” from the guitarist who she sees her face flare with jealousy. He’s following her gaze to the table and whistles loudly. He never thought Ruby went that way, but he didn’t know a lot about Ruby outside of rumors.

Braithwhite never looked out of place even in a place like this. She just fit in well without trying like a chameleon making herself comfortable in someone else's home. If Ruby did not know some of Christina’s truths this would concern her, but not so much now. At least even at her most sordid she was honest. The green of the dress did stand out but it felt see through to Ruby. She was pretty sure the woman on the other end could only wish for the type of knowledge she had. The alcohol and revitalized confidence in her gives her half the mind to throw her shoe from the stage. Maybe knocking Christina's eyes, that were probably not bulging as much as Ruby's liquored brain saw, back into her head. Ruby thinks better than that and sits the mic back in the stand and clears her throat into the mic.

Eyes including those blue ones find their way back to the stage. Ruby glares a bit in Christina's direction then directs her words back to the crowd. "Aight y'all this is my last song for tonight, it's something me and the boys have been cooking up."

Ruby hears the band whistle and mumble about someone having her in a mood tonight. The four count from the symbol goes off and Ruby clenches the mic letting her voice seep out,

"One man's poison is another man's meat, what's good for Johnny will kill poor Pete."

People in the cloud clap at the new sound. Folks lean up off the wall to move towards the dance area or to move with the crooning in their spot. Ruby smiles with her words as they continue.

"I'm good at loving so make no mistake I was his gravy but I'm your steak. Kiss me baby hold me tight everything's gonna be alright."

Ruby sways her hips back and forth a bit. Christina feels her eyes getting heavy dragging up and down Ruby's frame. She catches Ruby glancing her way and licks her lips quickly before the woman turns away from her.

"One man's evil is another man's pure, kiss me baby I want your sweet loving tonight."

Ruby extends her leg on stage twisting it with the music as she dances with the fill of the band. Moving back to the mic she slides her hands around the tall skinny pole.

Christina empties the contents of her glass not moving her vision from Ruby. She's leaning out of her chair slightly, but tries to pull herself together. If the times allowed her to, she'd have Ruby right there on the stage and she guesses if the crowd wasn’t soaking in the way Ruby reeled them in. Ruby was full of magic and had an effect on people that Christina was sensitive to. Even the first time she heard her sing.

Ruby grins as the band keeps playing and nods to them. Which they respond with air kisses. The crowd jeers as Ruby makes her way off the stage. A man's arm outstretched guides her off the stage even though she didn't need any help. Ruby can feel fire on her skin likely from Christina at the attention from a few gentlemen as Ruby passes them on her way to the bar for a glass of water. When she makes her way towards the seating area she teasingly saunters past the table she knows the blonde is sitting at. Ruby feels the eyes outlining her from behind and hears someone excuse themselves from a table behind her. She keeps walking to the bathroom she knew was at the end of the hall.

The sound of heels matching her stride as she opens and lets herself in the single person toilet.

Ruby swallows her moans while slowly tugging the long blonde hairs in between her fingers. Light tugs feeling soft rouged cheeks against her inner thighs. Lips kissing up against her thigh garters and stockings. Ruby exhales pulling Christina's head back up to hers.

"Is that what you wanted, sitting there pissed off because someone had your new toy."

Christina exhales feeling Ruby's nails scratch her scalp ever so. Her face is flushed, she can feel it, but she shakes out no lightly. "You aren't a toy," Christina pushes Ruby's hand away from her and leans over her. Less than inches away, "I guess I'm just a little jealous and it seems you are too."

Ruby scoffs but doesn't deny it, instead she drinks in the way Christina looks at her. With a vigor and a hunger that makes her thighs clench against the hand there. Fingers that sting in her memories from the car stroke up and down and Ruby does something she rarely does. She leans in and pulls Christina's lips to hers.

Christina revels in the slow tongue inching along hers. Ruby's hand on the back of her head, pulls her closer, and she slaps a hand against the tile wall surrounding the mirror. She likes this Ruby whoever this Ruby is. Unattached. Christina whimpers, feeling her head shoulders pushed downward. This Ruby who kisses her even without her being William. She also feels good in Ruby who is bound and only kisses William.

"You said you'd kiss whatever I wanted Braithwhite," Ruby gathers the blonde’s hair in her hands. Sinking her red fingernails into the blonde scalp, she opens her legs wider putting more weight on the metal sink. Ruby feels her breath hitch watching Christina sink to her knees while biting her lip at Ruby's words. Christina is undoing the snap of her garter while pushing Ruby's dress further up her thighs. It's almost around her waist, but this was not the place to just strip of it completely. Ruby leans her head back in relief feeling Christina inch the lacey cotton fabric around her hips down until they are off completely. She hopes Christina tucks them in her pocket at least.

Christina sighs pushing the lacey fabric into the same pocket holding William. She lightly bites into Ruby's thigh before moving to taste her fully. There is a low shudder and the grip on her hair tightens as she dips her head forward closing her eyes to fully immerse herself in Ruby. Ruby feels the hot coils in her stomach snapping and crackling. Her free hand moves from clenching her mouth to gripping the sink. She doesn't want to ruin Christina's dress but the heel of her shoe is pressing into the blondes back. A gasp like moan escapes her mouth as a shiver runs across her collar bone.

"Oh shit," the door next to them squeaks open and shut quickly, making both Ruby and Christina open their eyes. Christina turns her head upward to stare at Ruby. She can't say she feels any shame in her current position, but Ruby might. Ruby can only see the blue eyes peeking at her with concern and heat from the bottom of her dress. But, she feels like wetness on Christina's chin on her warm thighs. Ruby leans over to the lock on the door and twists it shut before leaning her head back on the wall. She regrips Christina's hair, "Kiss what I want."

Ruby moans out loud while music and a jazzy tune slips under the door.

“Your love is voodoo and I just can’t last. It's your voodoo working, voodoo working, voodoo working and I can't get a lick…..”

#christina braithwhite #Ruby Baptiste #ruby x christina #christina x ruby #lovecraft country #lovecraft country hbo #femslash #sapphic fanfiction #sapphic fandom #fanfiction #blues music

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saltypicks · 3 years

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reviewing may’s comebacks (in june, because i have shit to do)

There were a lot of comebacks this month. I guess it's summer now? No idea, there's no summer in my country. The girl groups have started coming back in full force but are not impressing. The boy groups seemed to mostly go the groovy route and now I need an adjective other than 'groovy' to describe songs.

Not The End, Highlight

I'm so glad it's not a ballad. It's not bad.

You are so beautiful, SGO

Everyday I'm grateful for the retro trend and this is a great representation.

Gray Area, Hi Cutie

At some sections I like this song (the verses and the chorus) and at others I dislike it (the trap breakdown, the middle of the chorus). I complained about MAJORS' company having no money previously but Hi Cutie's company is bankrupt. Poor nugus.

Dreamcatcher and GWSN have far superior 'Red Suns' but this song is okay and I'm happy the girls look so happy to have some work (and hopefully some money) at last.

Today, CITI

A nice midtempo song. And no, I did not hear it first from a drama OST.

Make Up Your Mind, AILEE

Sounds like a Beyonce-type song.

MALO, SHAX

Apparently this is a drama OST (Imitation, to be specific. It's based on a webtoon). Basic boy group song but it sounds like it's from the 2010s or something, and that's a compliment.

Hot Sauce, NCT Dream

Initially: Um...at least Renjun looks good? Honestly I don't know what to say about this song. NCT is a group I stan so this will definitely grow on me but...is this really not an advertisement for hot sauce? Also the set resembles the set for SHINee's Atlantis in my opinion. Now: The shouting is annoying and unnecessary. Love Chenle's voice in this; it provides a nice contrast to Haechan and Renjun. Someone said the chanting should've been left to the rappers and I fully agree. Don't know about Jisung and Jaemin but Jeno and Mark would be a good fit with a chant. In my opinion the dance break isn't really needed but is it NCT without a dance break? Also, wtf are they wearing around their necks? Someone should inform the SM stylists that less is really more.

DUN DUN DANCE, OH MY GIRL

It's light and pleasant but if this song was a meal it would be a tiny appetizer that tastes good but doesn't satiate you.

WHATEVER, KEEMBO

I didn't think I'd like it at first but this is groovy and makes me want to dance while doing my chores.

Always, VAV

Song for the fans but if you need a VAV song to listen to I recommend Gorgeous.

Hurt, Baekhyun & Seomoontak

Hasn't Baekhyun been shipped off to the army yet? Anyway, love how dramatic this is.

Waiting for Victor, 015B ft. Dawon

Another great retro song! Also the singer is cute and her hair is cute as well. She reminds me of Chuu a little.

Uncertainty Principle, 015B ft. Dawon

I prefer their other song, but this one is retro as well and it's great.

척하면 척, 강혜연 (Kang Hyeyeon)

Trot that's kind of subdued but still danceable.

Badly, SURA

Loved it from the first second.

BLACK MIRROR, ONEUS

Then: Is it good enough to make up for No Diggity? I don't know about that, but this song is groovy and I'm somewhat okay with it. Doesn't have much replay value for me though. Now: Eh, it's basic groovy boy group song but I won't skip if it comes on.

Breathe Again, BLITZERS

Another boy group with a somewhat questionable name. This song is pretty good as a debut and it's somewhat memorable. I wonder if my rating increeased because of the guitars? District 9 was the same for me, but right now it doesn't interest me. I think this song will stay for a good while on my playlist though. I like the anthemic vocals in the chorus and this song needed more of that.

EASY, WJSN THE BLACK

The girls looked good but the storyline kept getting interrupted by shots of the girls. Yes, we know they're all visuals but I'd be more interested if there was actual action and plot. The song is good objectively but doesn't really interest me. Who knows? Maybe a few more listens will change my mind.

Outerspace (ft. Loco), Kang Daniel

Groovy and better than his last two releases.

Giant, Yuqi

So nice to hear Yuqi's voice on its own. The song was fine until the chorus crushed all my love for it.

Glass of Tears, HONG JA

Appropriately dramatic for a song named 'glass of tears'. It's good and if you like trot you'll like this one.

Taste of Life, Yang Ji Eun

What do you call this? Folk trot? Whatever it's called, it's good.

LOOK AT ME, ICU

OK.

WE GO, fromis_9

It sounds like the token girl group summer song. I don't dislike it, but nothing about this song stands out to me. Honestly with a mini-album called '9Way Ticket' I expected more, because it reminds me of Nine Muses' Ticket everytime I see it. The b-side 'Airplane Mode' is pretty good though and the other one, 'Promise' is a slow song but I don't really mind it, it's fine as background music.

Next Level, aespa

Umm...what is SM's plan for these girls? How can a rookie group from the big 3 have only 3 songs? And only one is an original? The song is not the best thing ever and SM surely can do better but at least it wasn't as bad as M.A.F.I.A. aespa deserves more than this.

Ring Ring, ROCKET PUNCH

Finally after Bim Bam Bum these girls have a title track I enjoy. You can't go wrong with covering Take On Me, can you? It's no Platonic Love or Sea of Moonlight, and it certainly could have done without the rubbish trap section but it's a bop anyway. Meanwhile, the b-side Ride is great and I hope they promote it. This song would be more enjoyable if their voices weren't so shrill in the chorus. High notes aren't a necessity for good songs.

Advice, Taemin

Not the best of Taemin but it's good. I love the fast tempo of the piano and the way it drives everything. Taemin's performance also elevates this song and I'm grateful he's leaving us with a good song before going on his two-year vacation.

RUB-A-DUM, TRI.BE

They're really going all out with this 'tribe' thing, aren't they? It sounds very Middle Eastern to my ears at times, sometimes it sounds African-ish and the other times it is just typical trap kpop. DOOM DOOM TA was better and more fun. At least they got the catchy catchphrase right. Blackpink in your area who? Tri-bee da loca! The b-side 'LORO' is not much fun either. The only difference is it's Latin-influenced.

Shadow, Dreamcatcher

Typical Dreamcatcher song slowed down by a lot. It's not bad, plus it's nice to hear Dami sing. Also what is it with Korea and zombies? With the MV the song sounds a lot better but the MV distracts me. Shouldn't zombies be mindless? How do they use tools and know martial arts? Or is it just my eyes? And can that tiny gun protect anybody? Are you sure that's not a toy?

The beginning of spring, E'LAST U

Not horrible but not for me either.

Oh MAMA, BLING BLING

One of the few new ggs in a while with unfortunate names. They've clearly upgraded in terms of styling and MV budget, but their song quality is no different.

Let Me Know, PIXY

Sonically it sounds nothing like their dark concept. Actually it does sound like a dark concept, if done by a boy group. It's not bad but it's not good. The industrial-like sounds in the back are interesting but the whole song is not.

Son of Beast, TO1

TOO rebrands as TO1 with this song. It's groovy.

HAPPEN, Heize

For the first time I like a Heize song. The MV is interesting too, the story was cliche but I liked the visuals and aesthetics.

FEVER, ENHYPEN

Rhis song was from the [BORDER: CARNIVAL] mini. I listened to that mini but I remember not really liking any of the b-sides except the outro and the intro, so this is a surprise.

My Flower, Kim Jaehwan

Nice upbeat song with guitars all over it. I like it.

Corazon Perdido, Yesung (Super Junior)

Initially I wasn't going to review this because I didn't even review the title track but the final moments of this song are beautiful and it deserves a mention.

Butter, BTS

The song is smooth as its title. The MV is fine except for that ARMY thing; I cringed so hard.

Bonnie and Clyde, Yuqi

Better than the other one.

Ride, ROCKET PUNCH

This is so great and I'm glad it got its own video, even if it was just a dance video glorified as a 'Special Stage'. Now if only I could stop chuckling whenever I hear "looks rike a lainbow".

Rush Hour, GAHO

Love it, especially the guitar strumming moments and the chorus when the electric guitar comes in.

GEMINI, AB6IX

Love how the vocals don't distract from the great instrumental.

FIRST, EVERGLOW

In a comment section someone said La Di Da was a fluke and I kind of agree. Everglow returns to their usual style (chanty chorus + catchy riff repeated over and over) and this song is in the same vein as Adios. I like the chorus but the rest of the song is hard to recall. Siyeon, Aisha and Yiren are the only ones who actually look good and EU needs more lines and her blonde hair back. Also why does kpop think that moving the camera around a lot creates the illusion of motion? All it does is make me dizzy.

Like It Hot, GWSN

Sometimes I like GWSN title tracks, and sometimes I don't. I don't think much of this song, but their album is great.

Je T'aime, Joy

I love you Joy but this is boring. If it was meant to be a lullaby then SM succeeded.

Burned All Black, Kim Jaehwan

His other song is a ballad which is somewhat pleasant. Well, it was until it slowed down in the first chorus.

Purple, woo!ah!

Still not one song from woo!ah! I like.

GGOMA, Tae Ho (IMFACT) and Choi Ye Geun

Loved Choi Ye Geun's Scarecrow so I was happy to see her again. The song is groovy but the chorus sounds somewhat...empty? Love the scat at the end, should've been longer. This is also a great example of a bright boy group song. See? Upbeat and bright boy group concepts don't have to be childish.

DIAMOND, Sparkling

Another Imitation OST. I honestly doubt that there are actual kpop songs as bad as this.

7days Tension, Weeekly

Ad song. Bright and the chorus is nice.

0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You), TXT feat. Seori

The angsty opening line caught my attention, then the verse after it dropped the energy. It picked up again in the chorus and pre-chorus, thankfully. It's very much pop rock, except there are no guitars in this. Doesn't stop the song from being good though.

Hello, Joy

I love Joy's voice as always but this song doesn't do much for me even though it's upbeat. A few more listens might change my mind.

Call Me, Omega III

Another Imitation OST. Doesn't do much for me, just like all the Imitation MVs. At least let us understand what your drama is about. Instead we get these random shots of what idols are supposed to be like? I don't know much about idol life but it's obvious these girls would be called nugus in real life, and I honestly doubt nugus have such nice living conditions.

No Answer, LA LIMA

Jiyeon from T-Ara is on this one. This and MALO are my favourites from the Imitation OST so far. The song is nice with a sleek catwalk vibe to it but like the rest the MV is boring.

Show Me, Tea Party

Are these the Omega III girls? Not sure but I think so. MV still boring, song doesn't interest me.

Let me go!, The Volunteers

Great rock song, I just wonder why it's all in English (I'm not complaining).

#saltypicks #kpop reviews #reviews #monthly reviews #may '21

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a-kookie-with-my-tae · 4 years

Text

Decalcomania (Part One)

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x SoundcloudArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: None. Smut in part two.

Word Count: 3,608

Masterlist. Part Two

Your stomach heaves with laughter as you watch your best friend almost drop the mixing container he was trying to toss around like a seasoned bartender. Almost falling into your drink on the counter, you sit down on the stool before looking back up at the man who put you in this condition. Jimin. He was in far worse condition than you, considering he had a few drinks himself before you had arrived, and you’re now both on your third glass.

Wiping the tears that blur your vision, you attempt to calm yourself. Here you are, sitting in a private bar with your best friend. Your best friend who may or may not be a member of the biggest boy group of our era, BTS.

You stare at him, recalling how you both had met.

You were at a karaoke bar, pretty drunk and Jimin was there to blow off some steam after the weekend of performances. He was in disguise at the time, and your tipsy brain didn’t think anything of it. You don’t remember much before the moment he recognized your voice, though. You were singing some old pop song when you locked eyes with him, recognition in his features even though you didn’t know each other. At least, you didn’t know who he was.

You had recently gained a big following on your SoundCloud account, which made your songs pretty popular. You’ve never shown your face, but you have a pretty distinct voice, which is why you never tend to sing in public. Except for this time.

He said he recognized your voice because one of his bandmates is a fan. He didn’t specify who, and you never asked. You didn’t want to know the rest of them, you didn’t really want to know him. They live a completely different life, and you knew yourself too well to risk acting like a complete idiot and fangirling over them.

Until Jimin asked you to help him finish a song. He loved your work, and was having trouble finishing his. You agreed, and kept in touch ever since then.

Now, three years later, you’ve helped him write many songs, and still haven’t met any of the other members. You fear that if you do, the Chim that you know, and the Park Jimin heart throb will become one person, and for now you’d like to keep them separated.

You’ve explained this to Jimin many times, but even now, especially when he’s drunk like this, he doesn’t quite understand. To be honest, neither do you. But, you won't relent on this subject.

“Y/N-ie…” Jimin sings, hugging me from behind as I sit on the stool. He always gets like this with alcohol, he gets all lovey. But, he hasn’t started doing all the augyo yet, so you know it’s not cut-off time.

“What, Chimmie?” You ask turning your head to face him.

“You listen to our music right?”

There’s that word. Our. You know he doesn’t mean the songs you wrote together, but his band. As much as you try to keep them separate, times like this he forgets.

“Yes, yes I do, Chim.” You smile, deciding to let it go for a night.

“Well, what’s your favorite song from this album?” He says, resting his head on your shoulder.

You think about this for a moment. “Bulletproof: The Eternal is definitely my favorite group one.”

“Why?”

Again, you ponder for a moment, trying to piece your words together carefully.

“It talks about how we aren’t alone. How no matter how big you guys get, or how many stadiums you sell out, the reason you guys have such an impact is because of ARMY. How you love each one of them because they saved you from the dark place you were in, and in return you are going to save them. I love that concept, how even though we don’t meet face to face, we still mean something to one another and affect people’s lives in big and amazing ways.”

“What about solo song?”

You smile knowing he wants you to choose Filter. You had spent many months over video chat and emailing files back and forth to create that song. It was your baby, your proudest creation with him thus far. But, there’s another song that just hits you in ways you can’t explain.

“I can’t pick Filter, Chim, we wrote it. That’s cheating,” you say, laughing.

He just mumbles into your neck. You already know what he asked, even if you can’t understand the words.

“I’d have to pick My Time.”

He picks his head up at this. “Kookie’s song? Why?”

He’s curious as to why you would pick a member you haven’t met over him, you can tell. Chim is always jealous and clingy when he’s drunk, but it’s one of the things you love about him. All platonically, of course. He’s like an older brother to you, and on many occasions has he called you his little sister. You didn't have any siblings, he was the closest you had.

“Are you jealous, Oppa?” You really don’t want to explain the reasoning behind picking that song, so you try to distract him, just as you do every time he mentions Jungkook. You don’t want to admit to him that Jungkook is your bias and every song he sings just makes your insides light up in a way that makes you feel alive. That your heart flutters at the sound of his voice, and the lyrics he sings relate to you in a way you never thought any song except your own could.

“You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you. You only call me Oppa when you’re drunk, sad, or trying to change the subject. That’s only your second glass so I know you’re not drunk, and unless you’re secretly depressed as fuck and good at hiding it, I think your’e trying to change the subject.” he pulls away and turns your stool so you’re facing him. “Why won’t you tell me why you picked Kookie’s song?”

His eyes squint at you while your face flushes with heat.

“I-I…” You look down, trying to think of something.

All this is interrupted by loud knocking at the door.

“Jimin-ssi…..” An all-too-familiar voice sing-songs through the door taht causes your eyes to widen even more with fear. You’d know that voice anywhere.

It belongs to your favorite person in the world, Jungkook.

Okay, that might be an overstatement. But, he is your favorite member of BTS, besides Jimin, of course, but you don’t count Jimin. Jimn is your best firned, someone who is completely separate from the other members due to knowing him very personally for a number of years. Jimin is just, Jimin.

But, as of right now, you are contemplating murder becuase he is opening the door.

“Ya, Kookie! What did I say about calling me that? You’ve known me for how many years and still! The disrespect…” Jimin continues on, but his words fade as you focus on the angelic face before you.. He is ethereal, that’s the only way to put it. His skin has a golden glow, and a smile that lights up the room in your eyes. His light dimples are on show as he laughs at his hyung, eyes crinkling in a comforting way.

Fuck. He’s even more beautiful in person.

“...right, Y?N?” The sound of Jimin mentioning you snaps you out of your daze as Jungkook directs his gaze at you. You subconsciously hold your breath as his eyes widen in surprise. He obviously wasn’t expecting you here, with the way he came in. His face flushes at the realization that there’s someone else, albeit a girl, in Jimin’s room.

“Um, I don’t know. I guess it depends on context.” You try to formulate a proper response, but not knowing what Jimin said made you have to create a vague one. Hoping that his drunk mind won’t notice, you avert you gaze from Jungkook, face flushing with heat.

“Context? He never speaks to me like a friend, Y?N! We’ve known each other for 8 years and you still are so proper! That’s so rude!” Jungkook doesn’t laugh at him this time, attention focused solely on you. This makes you flush even further.

“He’s obviously doing it to get a reaction. He’s teasing you because you’re friends, so it’s not disrespectful, it’s actually kind of funny.” You keep you eyes on the glass at the table, trying not to make eye contact with the hypothetical love of your life.

“Well-”

“I’m sorry, Hyung. I didn’t know you had a girl over. I’ll leave you two alone…” Jungkook starts to trun back toward the door when Jimin starts laughing. But not normal laughter, no. He looks like he’s about to pass out from how funny the idea is.

“Wait… You think that Y/N and I are…? No, oh my God. she’s like my little sister, Kook.”

Jungkook’s freezes and turns around.

“So, you guys aren’t about to fuck?”

This causes you to choke on your drink, making Jimin rush over to you in worry while you have a coughing fit.

“Jungkook, you almost killed her with that foul talk.” He turns to give Jungkook his best pout. “That’s my best friend, you meanie. Plus, Rogue and I would never happen like that. We know too much weird shit about each other.”

Your eyes widen in shock when Jimin lets your stage name slip. Slowly turning toward Jungkook, you meet his gaze, his eyes wider than your own.

Jimin gasps when he realizes what he did.

“Oh, my goodness. Now you’re both gonna be hella nervous. Y/N, did I mention that Jungkook is who introduced me to your music? He’s the reason I recognized you and we started working together. And don’t think that I didn’t figure out who your bias is, little miss ‘My Time’...”

Both of you stay frozen in shock as Jimin rambles on neither moving a muscle as you gaze into each other’s eyes in shock.

Jimin finally gets the hint that you both are no longer listening and looks at you both.

“Shit, you guys both need a drink. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

This breaks whatever spell the two of you were under and you turn your stool back toward the counter top, downing the rest of your tequila sunrise. Or, whatever weird combination jimin created to try and make it. In your peripheral, you see Jungkook sit in the stool next to you. Not that he had much of a choice. The mini bar only has three stools and you are conveniently sat right in the middle.

Jimin goes back behind the counter to continue mixing whatever monstrosity he was creating before Jungkook knocked.

You sit in silence as Jimin continues to ramble on about whatever things drunk Jimin thinks of. Jungkook is a stone statue next to you, not moving a single muscle een as Jimin sets a drink in front of him. You’re too afraid to say a word and break the deafening silence between the two of you, as you have drowned out Jimin’s words long before.

He listens to your music. He knows who you are, the deepest parts of you, for he has heard your songs, your lyrics, and that fact has you frozen, afraid to say a single word in the possibility that you might say something wrong.

He knows you, but only as Rogue. And why does that fact bother you so much?

“So…” Jungkook tries to break the ice between you two, stll staring at the filled glass in front of him. “You’re Rogue…”

His sentence seems more like a question than a statement, and maybe it is. Maybe the fact hasn’t quite registered in both of your minds that the other is truly sitting right next to them. Maybe that ‘maybe’, is a little more definite.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” is all that you can muster up, speaking in the smallest voice that you ever have. You down the new drink that Jimin has set in front of you, which is somehow even more disgusting than the last, and turn towards where he stands in the middle of the room, apparently doing karaoke now. Surprisingly, even drunk, Jimin still sings like an angel. You smile at your best friend, enjoying his softness while it lasted. He’s usually way too hard on himself, you know that better than anyone, so it’s nice to see him so… free.

“I can’t believe that I’m sitting next to you right now…” You barely make out what he says, probably because he never meant for you to hear it. You turn towards Jungkook, face flushing to match his own once he realizes he said that out loud.

“I should be saying that. You’re the World’s Most Handsome Face of 2019 according to TC Chandler. Not to mention you’re not only South Korea’s, but America’s hot shot. The world literally breathes for you and you’re saying you can’t believe you’re sitting next to me?” You barely register the words you say as they come out of your mouth, the alcohol hitting you more than you thought after downing three glasses in the past five minutes.

His face flushes even more, if possible, as you say this, his mouth resembling a fish as it opens and closes in shock to your words. He looks out at Jimin to avoid your gaze.

“Well, I mean, it doesn’t feel like I’m all that…” He stutters a bit in his nervousness. “To me, it feels like I’m the nervous fan and you’re the big celebrity. And nobody’s ever met you, or even know what you look like. Do you know how it feels to obsess over someone’s music and be the only fan to know who they are?”

He stares dead in your eyes at this last statement, his words rendering you the speechless, stuttering one.

“I just…” You can’t look away from his eyes. They’re like chocolate orbs swirling with warmth and wonder, you could get lost in them forever if you really wanted to.

He looks away, breaking the trance you were in. you turn towards Jimin, thinking that if he’s out of your sight, it’ll be easier to speak with him, pretend he’s not Jeon Jungkook, the boy sweetheart of the world.

“I’ve listened to you for almost two years now,” he begins, still not looking toward you. “You didn’t have a following then, and your music may not have been the most professionally made, but I heard what you were saying, I connected with it. I watched you improve and felt… Well, I felt like I connected with you. That I understood you and you understood me.”

You smile. “That’s the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever heard about my music.” You turn towards Jungkook, staring deeply at him even though he still wasn’t looking at you. “Thank you, Jungkook. Really, I mean it.”

He looks up at you then, smiling back at you. “You’re welcome.”

You’re met by a moment of silence, both of you just staring at each other. The world around you starts to disappear and all you see is him. But, not the Jungkook that you’re used to. This is the real him, not the one you see on television.

‘Ahem.” Jimin breaks you both out of your daze as you jump in your stool. You face towards him, face flushing red once more. “Does this mean you’re gonna steal my co-writer now? Because I really like her.”

Jimin hangs around you, arms draping over you as he pouts at his other best friend. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the information he just recieved.

“Wait, Y/N is your ghost writer? The one helping you that you wouldn’t tell us about?”

“Well, yeah, maybe…” Jimin pouts even more, looking at the floor instead of Jungkook. “She didn’t want to meet you guys, thought she would embarrass herself or something. But, the truth is I didn’t want you guys to meet her either. She’s my best friend, and I didn’t want you guys taking away the little time that I get to spend with her…”

You coo at his cuteness. You know it’s time to cut him off now. Nonetheless, you still place your hands on his arms that are wrapped around your shoulders. “Aw… Chimmy…”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at your skinship. Is he… jealous? No, he’s probably just confused. You scold yourself for even thinking that someone like Jungkook could be jealous of someone else hugging you. You just met the boy, for Christ’s sake.

“We should probably get this one to bed…” You start, bringing Jungkook’s attention to you.

“No…” You hear a whine from Jimin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You giggle lightly as his breath tickles your neck.

“Chim, it’s almost 3AM and you have to get up at 8 to start recording, so you need to get to bed.” You’re used to acting like a mom around Jimin when he’s like this. Makes you feel like one, too.

“Fine…” He agrees, but makes no move to let go of you. You try to gain his attention only to hear soft snores next to your ear. You smile as his goofiness. Not tired, my butt.

You turn your gaze back toward Jungkook. “Could you help me with this,” you ask, gesturing toward a sleepy drunk Jimin. He smiles before standing up and wrapping Jimin’s arm over his shoulder then picking him up bridal style. The sight makes you stifle a giggle, bringing a fist to your mouth.

Once You both get Jimin tucked into bed, the room is once again filled with an awkward silence. Your eyes wander everywhere but Jungkook, trying to stop yourself from saying something stupid without Jimin here to save you.

“So… you’re Rogue,” he says, still staring at Jimin’s sleeping form. The music from the karaoke is still running in the background, creating a soothing ambience. You turn towards the machine and unplug it, shrouding the room in silence, other than the sound of each others breathing and Jimin’s soft snores.

“Yeah.”

“And you help him write songs?” Jungkook meets your gaze, eyes brimming with criousity about you.

You pause.

“Yeah.”

At this point, you don’t know if that’s the only word you can remember how to speak, but it sure seems like it.

There is a beat of quiet. No movement, no words. Just the two of you looking at each other. You open your mouth to speak your parting, but Jungkook speaks before you can.

“I know we just met, but can I ask you a favor?”

You pause, questions filling your head as your brows furrow. You don’t have time to respond before Jungkook starts rambling.

“I mean, it’s just that I really like your music. Like, really like your music, and I’m kind of stuck? I don’t know how to phrase it…” He scratches the back of his neck as he bites his lip, looking at the ground. “I released a teaser song a few months ago named Decalcomania. The fans were all so excited for it and, to be honest, so was I. But, after the teaser came out, I couldn’t finish it. It’s like something is missing and I don’t know what.”

You nod your head as you watch him, instantly recognizing the song he is talking about. You have had many ideas for a response song, but you don’t want to tell him that.

“It’s just…” he pauses, pursing his lips before looking into your eyes determinately. “Will you help me finish it?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Jeon Jungkook just asked you to help him finish the song that you’ve spent months fangirling over? First Jimin, now Jungkook. Who’s next? Billie Eilish?

You honestly had no idea your music could even reach someone like him, someone who seemed so untouchable. And yet, that’s exactly how he feels about you. That you’re unfathomable, unreachable to him.

“Okay,” you say, nodding slightly. “I’ll help you finish it.”

Jimin had surprised you earlier with plane tickets. This weekend was their last batch of concerts before their break back in Korea. Luckily, you’ve studied the language vigorously in your avid listening of kpop, little does he know. But, he wants you to come back to Busan with him so he can show you around Korea during his break. ‘It’s only fair,’ he said once you arrived. ‘You’re showing me around your hometown, so I want to show you around mine.’

You smile at Jungkook. “I’ll be showing Jimin around Savannah this week before the concert, and I’m flying back with him because he wants to show me around Busan.”

You see his eyes widen at your answer.

“I don’t know if you want to work while you’re here, or not. But, I will be in your hometown for the next two months if you want to work together some more then.” You head towards the door, not trusting yourself to be around him anymore. Your face remains serious, but the flush in your face will ultimately give you away if you stay. “I’ll have Jimin give you my number when he wakes up.”

You open the door and pause, looking back at him. “Goodnight, Jungkook. It was nice to meet you. I think we’ll have a good time working together.”

Then, with a smile, you left, leaving a poor, shocked, bunny standing in the middle of Jimin’s suite.

That was three weeks ago.

#bangtan #jimin #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook one shot #smut #fluff #jungkook smut #reader #soundcloud

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amidst-thestcrs · 4 years

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TAGGED BY: Someone tagged her in this on Summer’s old blog TAGGING: @feralspace-bitch, @fightan0therday, @tr0ubled-s0uls, @starrys0nder, @implausiblynaive, @defactomatriarch, and anyone else interested!!

layer one : the outside

Name - Summer Elise Smith Eye colour - Light Brown almost akin to honey, but can sometimes appear almost golden when in the sunlight! Hair style / colour - Naturally red hair that stretches down to her midback ish area, her hair is typically worn down and straighten! If not straighten then in just loose waves. Height - 5′6″ Clothing style - I think the best way to describe Summer’s fashion would be summertime casual tbh! She wears a lot of skinny jeans, shorts, and t-shirts. Occasionally she’ll wear tank tops or crop tops if she’s staying on a planet/dimension she feels safe in as well! Always form-fitting clothing with this girl too, I don’t imagine she’d find any sort of baggy cloths really appealing. Summer is also not a huge fan of formal or winter attire either tbh. She hates the cold and purposely moved to a dimension where she wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore, so in all honesty, Summer probably owns one light jacket and dress in her entire closet. Best physical feature - Summer honestly has one of the prettiest smiles! It can light up an entire room, but I also thing it’s pretty hard to earn a genuine smile from her. She usually uses fake or “overly sweet” smiles when dealing with people who annoy her, but when people close with her tend to earn her genuine smile.

layer two : the inside

Fears - Loss of control/power over herself, appearing weak, men (whether she wants to admit that or not), letting others in/letting her walls down (too many have proven to Summer that it’s best to trust as limited amount of people as possible), and losing the few people she does care about/trust Guilty pleasure - Honestly, coding and hacking 100%. There’s just something so relaxing about programming various electronics to Summer, like for a moment she just shut down her mind and just work/not think (which isn’t something Summer gets to do often so she revels in it when given the chance omg). Once she gets started, she can literally go on for hours, sometimes even a whole day if someone doesn’t stop her. Biggest pet peeve - People going through her shit or digging their nose into her business. Summer’s a very private person, so someone deciding to take it upon themselves to put to put their nose where it doesn’t belong is an instant violation of trust and overstepping so many boundaries for Summer!! Ambitions for the future - Just surviving honestly/living to see another day. Ever since Summer was little, it’s always been about making it to tomorrow, just do what you can to get by so you can hopefully wake up to see another sunrise. When she was living with Beth it was always about making sure she had the bare minimum amount of food to live, then when she first got into space it was always about having money so they didn’t freeze to death outside. It’s always been about survival for Summer, and now even though she’s in a much, much better place than before her mind is still set in survival mode. She very much lives with the logic of “Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, so I might as well live each day as if it’s my last”. So honestly her ambition for the future is just living to maybe see it one day rip.

layer three : thoughts

First thoughts upon waking up: Honestly? “Welp, survived another day I guess, time to go make the most of it.” She very much lives life in the moment and spends every day as it’s her last. Summer tries not to think too hard on any responsibilities for the day when she first wakes up cause otherwise it’ll overwhelm her too much. Instead, on mornings like those, she just goes back to sleep for a couple of hours more. What you think about most: Her friends, Tammy and Tricia (both @tr0ubled-s0uls). I think she worries a lot about them and what they might think. Are they happy? Do they wish they hadn’t come with her and stayed on Earth instead? Would they still have stuck around with her for this long if it hadn’t been for all the shit she’s dragged them into? What would her plan be if the federation was to finally capture the three of them? Do they really like her or is it just a matter of circumstances? That kind of thing. Summer’s a ride or die kind of friend and would do anything for those two, kill or die for them (one of which she’s already done). She’s made so many sacrifices for her friends and has taken the wrap for them on multiple occasions, and I think the bigger part of Summer will always wonder if it’s enough or too little. Summer won’t say it a lot, but she truly does feel like a sinking ship sometimes, and she feels so horribly for dragging those two down with her, even though they both agreed to it entirely. If it wasn’t for them having a criminal record too because of Summer, I don’t think she’d feel so bad but that alone causes her a lot of guilt that she keeps under lock and key. What you think about before bed: I think she plays music a lot to try and quiet her mind of any thoughts or memories that always wanna come up before she goes to sleep-- so if she’d lucky, nothing. Although, if she’s not lucky, I imagine she thinks a lot on the past and she absolutely hates that. She’ll play music as loud as she can to quiet her mind before going to be if possible, if not possible, then it’s time to have a couple of drinks omg. Or if worst comes to worst, time to get up and try sleeping tomorrow night instead! What your best quality is: I know how it’s going to sound, but honestly her open-minded and accepting nature. Summer may not seem like it at first to strangers, but she actually quite understanding once you pick at all her tough layers. There’s a soft side in there somewhere, but not many people see it!! But those willing to work for it and dig hard enough that Summer deems worthy enough get to see that side of her.

layer four : what’s better ?

Single or group dates - Single - She loves her friends, but on the rare times Summer does actually go on a date, she prefers her and the other person are alone together so then she can get to know them a little bit better where as she’d be more distracted and withdrawn in a group date with some other people she may not know. To be loved or respected - Respected - Summer hasn’t seen any good side effects of being loved just yet, she’s only seen negativity come out of love so she’d much rather gain someone’s respect than love any day. Besides, in her opinion, at least she can do something useful with respect rather than love. Maybe one day she might prefer to be loved, but not until she can actually see some positivity come out of it. Beauty or brains - Brains - Summer cannot stand when someone looks so pretty but has absolutely nothing going on upstairs. She wants to be able to hold a conversation with someone that lasts more than a few sentences. Dogs or cats - Dogs - In truth, she used to be neither, but ever since she got her boys, she’s been a dog person at heart.

layer five : do you…

Lie - Absolutely. Summer is an amazing liar, she’s been doing it all her life to get by, one of the many skills she’s adapted along the way in order to survive. I don’t imagine she lies to those she cares about and trusts, but everyone else is fair game. Believe in yourself - For the most part, yes. I think Summer does have some days where she feels like she can’t do it anymore, but she lives by the philosophy, “I can do this, and even if I can’t, I have to.” so even if she doesn’t necessarily believe in her abilities one day she basically fakes it till she makes it. Although, Summer knows she’s smart and that she can do anything she puts her mind to so she puts a lot of faith in herself. After all, in her mind, yourself is the only person you can truly rely on so. Believe in love - No. I think Summer has been through a lot of heartache in the short time she’s been alive and that’s really jaded her a lot, to not only love but possible friendships as well. Not only just that, but I feel like Beth has literally told her from a young age that love isn’t real and to never “love” other people too much, which for the most part Summer takes anything Beth says with a grain of salt, but that’s one of the few things that stuck (mainly because Summer witnessed the effects that “love” had on Beth firsthand). However, that being said, I do feel like it would have to take a very special person (*cough cough* @fightan0therday 👀) that could possibly change her mind in the future omg. Want someone - See now this is a complicated one cause I do truly that deep down a part of her does think it would be nice to have a special someone in her life, but again she just really feels like it’s all just one fairytale dream that will never happen so why even bother entertaining the thought? You could never catch her admitting that though! If you were to ask her, she would tell you no so fucking fast, it’s unreal omg. But again, there might be a special someone she’ll consider down the road ( *glances at @fightan0therday ) omg!!

layer six : ever been …

Been on stage: Oh gosh, I can’t think of a particular incident off hand, but I’m sure she has. Summer is not shy in the slightest so she and her friends would always get into trouble in high school, one of which being the time that she and Tammy ( @tr0ubled-s0uls ) pretended to be interested in cheerleading in high school just so they could do a not so school-friendly cheer routine in front of at least 20+ people. So if you count that, plus dancing on tabletops at bars among something else stupid she’s done I’m sure there’s been at least one time in her life! Done drugs: Yes, but not so much anymore at all really. I feel like Summer has had one too many close calls while under the influence of drugs before when she used to dabble in them, so now she’d just rather not. She might occasionally smoke a joint with her friends on rare occasions, but only at a safe location with people she trusts. Other than that, she usually doesn’t because she doesn’t like not having control over herself or leaving herself vulnerable for others to do something to her. The same applies to drinking as well, she’d rather be the designated driver any day! Changed who you were to fit in: No. Summer changed because growing up at an early age was unfortunately vital to her survival, but she has never and will never change who she is a person for anyone just to “fit in”. Summer has always considered herself top dog, so why would she want to be some silly little “popular” girl?

layer seven : favorites

Favourite color - I think it’s called peach? It’s that pale pink and orange mixture. Favourite animal - Dogs, or more specifically her Dobermans. She appreciates their undying loyalty to her. Favourite movie - Any horror movie, they’re always a good laugh for her and her friends! Favourite game - Summer used to play a little bit of softball in high school, but I’m not sure she’d say that was her favorite. Tbh I’m not sure!! Maybe trivia cause she’s really smart and it gives her a chance to show that off omg.

layer eight : age

Day your next birthday will be - July 23rd How old will you be - 22 (Summer is always 22, I don’t typically age up my characters anymore.) Age you lost your virginity - Fifteen. It was some senior bad boy in high school that all the girls wanted and Summer had a crush on. He showed just a tad bit of interest in Summer, even going as far as flirting with her in the halls so she went for it, and then he wanted nothing to do with her after the fact. It’s still something she regrets to this day, usually just lies about her answer if anyone ever asks her this question. Or just gets defensive and changes the topic. Does age matter - Depends on the situation. In dating, absolutely, Summer isn’t really interested in people way older than her. As far as someone telling her she’s too old/young to do something then no, cause Summer does what she wants regardless of anyone or anything.

layer nine : in a person

Best personality - Confident, intelligent, understanding, carefree, someone who won’t tuck their tail and run the second they start to learn about her past, self assured (that might not be the right word I’m looking for, but Summer doesn’t want someone who doesn’t have their own opinions/feelings and only follows along with what she says all the time) Best eye colour - I could see her being a sucker for brown or hazel eyes tbh Best hair colour - Darker hues tbh Best thing to do with a partner - Just be her true and honest self. Summer always has a front up to protect herself from others, so just having someone who she can wholeheartedly trust to put those walls down would be such a weight off her shoulders, whether she realizes that or not just yet.

layer ten : finish the sentence

I love - “my friends more than either of them will ever know. We’ve been through hell together and I’d do again if I had to.” I feel - “like the multiverse is shit anyways and nothing matters in the end, so you might as well live life to the fullest and do what you wanna do.” I hide - “everything... People only disappoint you, you can’t trust anyone really. I tried trusting more than two people before and it royally screwed me over, it’s a mistake I’ll never make again...” I miss - “when things used to be simpler and it wasn’t always about running.” I wish - “…I didn’t have to grow up being constantly reminded of how much of a mistake I was...”

#Queue #Dash Games #Summer Headcanons #tw: abuse mention #tw: bad parenting #tw: drug mention

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