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mostmagical · 4 months

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for @zodoods, I hope this lives up to expectations 🙏

Words: 4k Summary:

Marinette knew she tended to get tunnel vision when she was focused, but luckily her boyfriend Chat Noir was always there to watch her back as they fought Monarch. With their enemy having disappeared, however, they decided together that it was finally time to reveal themselves. In public. Face to face. It's a little silly to have to introduce yourself to your own boyfriend, but after all, it wasn’t Marinette’s fault that she never knew her boyfriend’s name. (Adrien has never been to school, and Marinette doesn't know him.)

Marinette hadn’t known her smile could be so wide. Staring at herself in the reflection, she couldn’t be bothered to worry about the awful dark circles under her eyes, or the frizzy mess of her hair. Everything could be covered or smoothed over, after all. None of that really mattered. Not when her whole world was about to change.

Today was the day.

“Today,” she breathed the word to herself. “Tikki, can you believe it’s today?” she asked, turning around to look towards her kwami.

Tikki giggled from where she sat atop the dresser. “You and Chat Noir have only been planning it forever,” she replied.

The smile was beginning to make Marinette’s cheeks ache. “We have.”

For months following the disappearance of Monarch, Ladybug and Chat Noir had been planning and mentally preparing to finally reveal their identities to one another, eventually coming to the conclusion that they were both ready for it just a week prior. She could still see Chat’s goofy smile in her mind’s eye, clear as day.

“So, we’re really doing this?” he had asked as they sat atop a rooftop together. “For real?”

“For real,” she had replied, excitedly nodding her head. Taking his hand in hers, she had pressed three rapid kisses to the back of it, trying to impress all of her enthusiasm and all of her love into his skin through the suit. “I can’t wait to meet you, mon Chaton,” she had promised him.

His face was rosy, with that big, beautiful smile of his stretching out his cheeks. “Neither can I, my Lady.”

Marinette let out a low squeal at the not-so-distant memory, pressing her hands against her hot cheeks.

She was going to meet her boyfriend. For the first time.

Well, not exactly the first time, but first enough.

They had plans to meet at a little café just a few blocks from the Grand Palais. He had surprisingly been a bit apprehensive at first, but she assured him everything would be okay. Marinette promised to wear the rose he had given her in her hair, and she was going to look for the boy wearing the scarf she had made him on his pretend birthday (and then he could tell her his real birthday!).

She couldn’t wait.

This day was a long time coming, and Marinette had plenty of fantasies to prove it. She wanted to hold her boyfriend’s hand in public, kiss him and go to the movies, all without a crowd of people taking photos of them. She wanted to goof off and be silly with him, all without worrying about being a hero, or acting like a good role model. She wanted to take him over to her house, and have him meet her parents, and stay for dinner without the threat of a supervillain interrupting the desert.

And after today, all that could finally be reality.

She got to work applying her makeup and wrangling her hair, not wanting to waste another second. Although she was notoriously late for most events, this was something she hoped to actually arrive early to. The ruby red dress she had laid out the previous night while she should have been sleeping was the last to slip over her head, perfectly matching the scarlet of Chat’s rose tucked behind her ear. The knee-length skirt fluttered to and fro as she took one last scrutinizing look in the mirror. Everything had to be perfect for her not-so-first impression.

Once she was finally satisfied, Marinette tossed her purse over her head. As soon as Tikki was settled and comfortable, she at last headed out.

There was a skip in her step the entirety of the walk, completely out of her control.

Although excitement was certainly at the forefront of her emotions, she would be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that little seed of nervousness. What if he didn’t like her? (He would.) What if he wasn’t as kind as she thought, and his personality was nothing more than a front? (Impossible.) What if his nerves got the best of him, and he didn’t show?

With her heart thundering in her chest, she turned the last corner to bring the café into view.

Her eyes zoned in on a mop of blond hair instantly. It was neat and combed back— completely at odds with the wild wind-blown look she was used to seeing on her boyfriend, but something in the way her stomach twisted and swooped inside of her told her that she may have spotted him. Taking slow steps closer, she traced the curve of his posture with her eyes as he sat hunched over the tiny café table, gasping slightly as she located the familiar shade of blue peeking from his collar.

It had to be him. It had to.

A chorus of giggles broke her concentration, drawing her eyes to a gaggle of girls a couple tables over. They were whispering excitedly and pointing in the direction of the same mop of blond hair, all with cell phones raised. A sudden wave of heat ran up Marinette’s spine as she realized they were ogling him.

She wasn’t surprised that girls were looking at him. Chat Noir was the cutest, most handsomest boy in the world, so of course they would. But that was her cutest and most handsomest boy in the world.

Her slow steps quickly evolved into a fast walk until she was right beside him, at which she practically threw herself onto the table, bodyblocking the girls’ view. The boy visibly jumped at her entrance. She glanced at his face for his reaction, but his eyes were covered by large sunglasses, effectively hiding any expression of recognition. Face feeling suddenly warm, Marinette stood back up straight and cleared her throat, casually drumming her fingers against the laminate surface.

“H-hi. I’m looking for my kitten,” she said, uttering the code phrase they had planned to use to confirm each other’s identities.

The boy smiled, instantly easing her worries. “I saw a little bug on the flyer.”

A grin spread across her cheeks before she could stop it, giddiness overflowing to the tips of her fingers. “I found you,” she murmured, just quiet enough to be just for him.

He stood from his seat, still smiling, and Marinette thought he was going in for a hug until he stepped around her. She was only confused for a second before he pulled out the chair on the other side of the table.

“Oh.” So the gentlemanly thing wasn’t an act after all. Accepting the gesture, Marinette turned to sit, feeling him push the chair in behind her as she did so. “Thank you.”

He simply hummed, before returning to his own seat across from her.

“So, um–” Not really sure where to start, (how does one introduce themselves to the boy they’ve been dating for two years?) Marinette figured the basics should go first. She almost wanted to laugh as she realized she was essentially on a blind date with her long-term boyfriend. “I’m Marinette,” she said, tugging at her bangs before pushing them behind her ear.

“Marinette,” he breathed. Breathed, as in he actually sighed her name when he said it. Marinette thought she might melt. “That’s a beautiful name.”

She wondered how dopey her smile must look to him. “Thank you,” she replied. “And you are?”

Thin blond eyebrows raised over the rims of the glasses, before dropping back down out of sight almost as quickly as they appeared. He laughed. “Okay,” he said between chuckles. “I’m Adrien.”

Marinette wasn’t quite sure what was so funny, but his laughter was just as contagious as always. With a giggle, she stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Adrien.”

His returning smile was soft. “Nice to meet you, Marinette.” He took her hand, and turned it to rest atop his on the table, running smooth circles over the back of her palm with his thumb. The feeling of his warm skin on hers was foreign and exciting, setting off yet another flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

“You still wear your pigtails,” he stated.

Naturally, her free hand trailed to her hair. She smiled as her fingers brushed the velvet petals of the rose. “They’re kind of my armor,” she replied with a shrug. “All the better for you to recognize me.”

The corner of his lip twitched, but the soft smile remained unchanged. Part of her wondered if he was still nervous about meeting. Hoping to ease his worries, she grinned.

“And I’m glad to see you don’t wear whiskers,” she joked.

He laughed again, and that seemed to be enough to lower the tension in his shoulders, to Marinette’s relief. “You’re right, I don’t,” he said. “I have a clean public image to maintain, you know.”

Marinette furrowed her brows, trying and most likely failing to hide the confusion on her face. It was surprising; Chat Noir was definitely the type of person who would grow “whiskers” just to commit to the bit. To each their own she supposed. Mustaches did seem to be more supervillain-y than superhero-y, after all.

“I do have to ask, though, what’s with the glasses?” she asked, moving the conversation along. “They’re so big, they’re covering half your face. Any plans to take those off?”

“Well, I–” Adrien’s head turned minutely towards the girls at the table behind her, barely perceptible to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. “I don’t know.” His hand pulled at the scarf where it crossed over his black t-shirt.

“Please,” she insisted, putting on her best baby-doll eyes. “How unfair you get to see all of my face and I can’t see all of yours.” She held his hand tighter, imploring but hopefully he knew it was still light-hearted.

“Marinette, it’s just–”

She pulled out her secret weapon: the pout. His mouth instantly stopped moving.

“I’ve never really seen your eyes before,” she added. At his answering sigh, she felt a bout of pride swell in her chest. Victory.

Hesitantly, he removed the sunglasses and folded them on the table, all the while looking shyly up at her through golden lashes.

Marinette’s pulse quickened as she finally— really— met his eyes. Such strange feelings of déjà vu ran through her when she caught sight of how green they were. It was the first time she had seen his whole face, and yet it already felt so nostalgic and familiar. It was almost as if she had seen him before, and she supposed she had, in her dreams at the least.

“Gorgeous,” she sighed, unable to stop her tongue from embarrassing the rest of her.

All the regret she might have held drained out of her, however, when she saw how pink his cheeks went in response. His dropped jaw slowly curved into a small smile, and those pretty green eyes closed in half moons as he replied, “Thanks for the compliment.”

Was this really the same boy?

Marinette snorted. “What? No cheesy remark about how you knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you?”

“I’m just far too stunned by the beauty in front of me to think straight,” he said, mouth pulled sideways. “I daresay you could outshine me anyday.”

There he is.

She rolled her eyes in response, but she couldn’t deny the coils of warmth that spread across her skin. With a fond shake of her head, she brought one elbow to the top of the table to cradle her chin in her hand.

“You know, you’re taking this really well,” Adrien said, the smirk fading back to a humble smile. It was odd seeing him so reserved. “Better than I thought you would.”

“Taking what well?” she asked. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she recalled his apprehension from the night before. She attempted to keep things light, sliding into a teasing tone as she conspiratorially whispered, “Did you think I wouldn’t like you without the cat ears, mon Chaton?”

“Well, no, that’s not exactly—”

She cut him off, making sure to speak with all the sincerity she could muster, “Because there is no universe where I wouldn’t like you.” With a coy wink, she added, “Believe me. I checked.” She grinned with pride as her fingers squeezed his on the table, feeling as though she had one-upped him in cheesiness.

Again, his mouth hung open slightly as he processed her words, but soon morphed back into the soft smile. His head tilted to the side. “You always know what to say to make me happy, my–” The corners of his lips twitched, his intended endearment clear to both of them— “my Marinette,” he said instead, pulling their joined hands up to brush his lips against the back of her palm.

Dimly, Marinette registered the sound of a squeal from somewhere behind her.

“But, um, no.” His countenance took on a much more nervous expression, his free hand drifting back to play with the nape of his neck. “I meant more–” He paused, waving his hand awkwardly towards himself.

“What?”

His brows furrowed, mouth open and clearly poised to explain himself, but he was interrupted by a waiter arriving to take their orders, and the moment was surreptitiously forgotten.

As the date went on, conversation flowed freely between them. Marinette learned so many of his favorite things, what he was studying in school, that he was an only child just like her, and of course, his birthday, time and year. So many things that she would normally have naturally learned over time, which was something that she took for granted in her other relationships with family and friends. It was odd, but wonderful that this absurd blind date was just another unique experience that they could share together.

She would have been more than happy to talk to him forever if she could, but a trill from Adrien’s phone stopped their conversation short.

His eyebrows turned down as he read the screen. “How did it get so late?” he pouted, just as cute as before when he wore cat ears on his head. “I’m sorry, Marinette, but I have to go.”

Her smile was sympathetic, barely holding herself back from mirroring his pout. “That’s okay,” she replied. “We’ll just have to have our next date sooner.”

The answering smile on his face made it all worth it.

Adrien’s fingers flew across his keyboard for a second, before another trill responded. “My bodyguard says he can take you home, though!” he announced happily. “So we can spend a little more time together.”

Marinette couldn’t stop the confused noise from escaping her mouth. “Your…bodyguard?” she repeated slowly.

“Yeah!” He looked up from his phone, lips softly quirked upwards. “And don’t worry; he may look mean but he’s the kindest man I’ve ever met.”

That certainly wasn’t something Marinette was worried about, but now she felt like she needed to be.

She tried to cross the appropriate wires in her head. Okay, so Chat Noir, famed superhero of Paris and wielder of the power of destruction, had a bodyguard in his everyday life. And that bodyguard apparently drove him places?

Perhaps she needed to collect more evidence.

Too busy thinking to come up with anything to say, Marinette mutely nodded her agreement.

Having already paid the bill— well, Adrien paid, despite her protests—, the two stood from their seats and headed down the sidewalk. Marinette followed Adrien closely, too busy sweeping her eyes across the busy street to spot this ‘mean-looking’ man to notice Adrien’s knuckles bumping into hers. She finally looked up at him when he laced their fingers together and squeezed. His green eyes almost seemed to shimmer as they looked into hers, and Marinette could feel all that wound-up tension melt away in response.

The spell between them was broken by a sudden honk.

Adrien was the first to break eye contact, turning back towards the street. “Oh! There he is.”

Marinette followed his gaze. Her eyes widened as they landed on the sleek sedan that had pulled up to the curb in front of them. She didn’t know much about cars, but she knew enough to identify the logo of a luxury brand. The car was well-washed and shiny, unlike most of the vehicles that parked along the dirty city streets.

A burly man emerged from the driver’s side door, and walked around the car. To Adrien’s credit, he did seem a bit scary, based on sheer size alone, but Marinette supposed her Papa was probably about the same size. She figured if the man smiled a bit more, he would come off much friendlier. He greeted the two of them with little more than a low grunt and a nod, before briskly opening the rear passenger side door.

Marinette froze in place as she waited for one of the others to move. She couldn’t for the life of her understand what was going on. Was Adrien going to drive and this man was graciously letting her have the front seat?

“Marinette?” Adrien cleared his throat. “Are you ready to go?”

She blinked a few times, looking back and forth between the open door and her boyfriend’s face. “Um, yes,” she replied nervously. “I’m ready.”

He bowed his head, gesturing with his free hand towards the open door. “Then, after you, my lady.”

The familiar name quelled the voices in her head long enough for her to step forward. “Thank you, my prince,” she teased in response.

Though she did step in first, she held fast to his hand, pulling him along with her. The inside of the sedan was just as clean as the outside. Small tablets nestled into the back of both front headrests, and a far fancier screen than Marinette had in any of her devices at home was centerstage on the dashboard. She could feel her eyes widening as she took it all in.

Chat Noir was rich.

Chloé Bourgeois rich, maybe.

That was… unexpected. Admittedly, she never imagined Chat to have a high-class upbringing (if she could even call Chloé’s that). She had always envisioned him as a rough and tumble sort of kid. He would take soda over wine any day. Canned tuna over caviar. He had never turned up his nose to fast food, or cheap nosebleed seats at a concert, or acted like he was any better than anyone else.

No, Chat– Adrien— was amiable, gracious, and an appreciator of the little things–

“Marinette?”

She whipped her head around to meet her boyfriend’s gaze, having been yanked from her thoughts. “Yes?”

Adrien seemed to be holding back a laugh, clearly having recognized her thinking face. “Your address?”

“Oh!” She leaned forward in her seat, directing her attention to the driver. “12 Rue Gotlib, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

Adrien’s face lit up in the rearview mirror. “That’s just around the corner from us!”

“Really?” She was reminded of that flash of déjà vu she had felt upon seeing his face for the first time. Maybe they had met before. Most people who lived in the 21st arrondissement got their baked goods from her parents’ bakery, and Marinette often worked the front counter. They must have had at least one encounter before as their civilian selves.

It was almost a shame.

She would have loved to know that her favorite person was just around the corner.

He tightened his grip on her hand as she turned back to face him. “Almost too good to be true,” he said, echoing her thoughts.

All lamentations of lost time were forgotten at that, and she chose instead to be happy in the moment they had now. She smiled, squeezing his hand back.

They were content to spend the short ride in comfortable silence after having spent the majority of their time together with endless conversations. Adrien’s bodyguard didn’t ask any questions after Marinette gave her address, so she saw no reason to try chatting with him when she could cuddle into Adrien’s arm instead. The world was pink and fuzzy, and the only leather pressed against her skin was that of the car seats. Feeling the rise and fall of Chat Noir’s breaths through warm cotton was a wholly different, welcome experience.

The ride was too short, however, and before she knew it, they had pulled up in front of her family’s bakery.

Adrien’s short intake of breath pulled her eyes upwards, and she noticed him staring at the sign with eyes full of wonder. “Whoa, you live so close to the boulangerie,” he noted.

Marinette grinned. “Well, yeah, I live above it,” she said, delighted when his head whipped back to face her. “My parents own it.”

His eyes looked about ready to bulge out of their sockets. “You do?”

She pointed to the sign. “And I designed the logo. Tom and Sabine Boulangerie,” —she turned the finger towards herself— “Tom and Sabine daughter.”

Adrien’s face was painted with the most excitement she had seen from him all day. “That’s so cool! They have the best macarons— I’ve had some at events when we get catering— and I’ve asked Nathalie a few times, but, well–” His face was a bit pink as he paused. “You’re amazing, Marinette.”

“I’ll have to bring you some macarons next time I see you,” she giggled.

His eyebrows danced over his eyes. “Now I know why you’re so sweet.”

“Oh, hush.” She lightly shoved his shoulder. “Takes one to know one.”

Following some pointed clearings of the throat from the driver’s seat, they eventually got out of the car and Adrien walked her to her door. She left him with a quick kiss and a promise to text him later.

The remainder of the day went by in a blissful blur. Dinner, homework, and television with her parents faded into the background as she slipped lovingly into her daydreams. Adrien was too busy to talk, but he had sent her a few hearts and memes throughout the evening, and she looked over all of them with her chest fit to burst. Before she knew it, it was time for bed and they were texting each other good night.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Marinette realized the true shift the world had undergone.

The incessant buzzing of her phone was an unwanted wakeup call. Marinette blindly slapped her hand against the mattress until her fingers met the smooth plastic of her phone case. She slowly cracked her eyes open as the screen lit up again with notifications.

New Message - 🦊Alya🔥(32), Missed Call - 🦊Alya🔥 (2), New Message - Adrien ♥️🐈

Wondering what was so desperate for Alya to be blowing up her phone so early, Marinette quickly responded to Adrien’s “Good morning <3” in kind before opening the floodgates. She was immediately treated to a number of news articles, all caps messages, and photos. Photos of her and Adrien.

Her fingers flew through the slideshow of photographs: Adrien waiting alone with those ridiculous sunglasses, herself haphazardly draped over the table, Adrien kissing her hand, the both of them stepping into his car. She paused on one of the last photos. It was of the two of them, hand-in-hand as they waited for their ride. Adrien’s soft eyes that had mesmerized her up close were just as soft from a careful distance.

She blinked rapidly as she processed it all.

How did Alya get these?

Scrolling back up in her conversation history with Alya, she looked at the articles again, scanning over the headlines: “Adrien Agreste - Dating?” “Adrien Hits the Town with Mystery Girl!” “Who Caught the Eye of Adrien Agreste?” “Agreste Son is Growing Up!”

…Agreste?

The conversation shot down to the bottom as another text from Alya came in: CANT BELIEVE YOU DIDNT TELL ME????

Faster than she could process, Marinette swiped away from her messages to plug “Adrien Agreste'' into her search engine. A shocking thousands of images popped up, all of her boyfriend in various poses and campaigns— including one with the bowler hat she had designed for a competition run by Gabriel Agreste.

A banner notification popped up at the top of her screen, Marinette’s finger tapping it automatically.

Adrien ♥️🐈: I have a photoshoot until around noon, but do you want to get ice cream after?

Marinette dropped the phone as everything suddenly became clear.

Perhaps maybe their civilian relationship wasn’t about to be quite as low-key as she thought.

#ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #ladynoir #love square #miraculous #ml #this is very unserious #i wanted the first fic of the new year to be Serious but we are starting it GOOFY okay #my writing #it's just all dramatic irony in here

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ahalliance · 8 months

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qétoiles n qbagz’ convo about his code arm + fun banter from last sunday :] english subs + transcript below da cut

[Video transcript:

Etoiles: But yesterday when he [Forever] talked to me, he was so frightened, basically he was like, ‘But one day won’t you lose your shit and want to kill the Eggs with the Code, and everything?’ Though I was telling him, ‘But the fact is, I know the Code very well’—

Baghera: Oh, so you told him you joined—?

Etoiles: No, no, no, not at all. It’s just that he has these assumptions that I’m really allied to the Code because—

Baghera: I think it’s due to your Code tattoo, also, it gives off the impression you’re in the process of transforming into a Code, Etoiles, let’s not lie.

Etoiles: That’s it, that’s it. But, basically I told him that I’ve had it since—

Baghera: But you don’t give a shit? You’re taking it well?

Etoiles: Well, yeah, I don’t give a shit because I know he’ll never beat me. Basically I—

Baghera: But you don’t give a shit about the code literally popping up over your body?

Etoiles: Well, yeah, because it’s a part of me now. It’s normal.

Baghera: How?

Etoiles: Well, after— after fighting someone 17 times, you start— you start creating links. But those links—

Baghera: But— you know that’s not how things work. Like— look, we cross paths. Right now we’re crossing paths. You see? We’re crossing paths. I kick your ass. Like, for free. You see? I see you, I’m like, ‘Bro, I don’t like his face,’ so I kick your ass.

Etoiles: But no! Because if you tell me ‘Good fight’ at the end—

Baghera: I see you again— wait, I’m not finished. I see you again like 12 times, and I tell myself, ‘Hey, I’ll do it again,’ I kick your ass again. After a while, Rayou, I won’t get diabetes!

Etoiles: Well, maybe you will, huh.

Baghera: Yes, but it’s not— it doesn’t work, like— there’s no correlation, you see!

Etoiles: You know you won’t have those cells anymore, you know, it’s possible.

Baghera: But— no— what I mean is— Etoiles! That’s now how it works! It’s worrisome! It’s normal for us to worry!

Etoiles: Well, yeah, but, uhhh. Basically, you’re all used to talking with me on the island. And you understand very well that there’s nothing able to corrupt me.

Baghera: That we don’t know, Etoiles! Because— if it’s— I know that your morality, and your enormous brain, and your big body, won’t get corrupted. But if there’s suddenly— well, what I mean is that we don’t know what all the possible systems of manipulation on the island are.

Etoiles: It’s true. No, it’s true. But for the moment I’m doing well.

Baghera: Yeah, well, so much the better. But—

Etoiles: For the moment I’m doing well!

Baghera: If you feel any change, Etoiles, mention it, okay?

Etoiles: Oh, I’ll talk about it. But for the time being I’m doing very well.

Baghera: So I can understand peoples’ fear upon seeing you LITERALLY transform into a Code and who tell themselves, ‘Oh, strange, maybe there’s a thing with the Codes.’

Etoiles: It’s true but who can better know the dangers of the Code than someone who’s confronted it his whole life? Instead of someone who—

Baghera: I’m well aware.

Etoiles: No but it’s— it’s— it’s for that reason that I told Forever. I totally understand the fear and everything, it’s normal. You see a dude turning into a Code, you ask yourself, ‘What’s the guy who sent him doing?’

Baghera: Well, yeah, there you go.

Etoiles: Like, ‘Who sent him?’

Baghera: But you don’t feel any different? Nothing?

Etoiles: Absolutely not, no. Everything is going well. I still hate the Code whenever I see him, I still want to kick his ass. Everything’s fine. Even if right now I want him—

Baghera: But you join up with them when he suggests it, yeah. Well, it’s to get the shield back.

Etoiles: It was just for the shield, believe me. Believe me, if I run into them again- if I run into them again and they don’t offer me things to save the Eggs and everything, it’s goodbye. And considering what I’ve prepared— considering what I’ve prepared, I objectively think that 5 Codes won’t be enough to kill me. There’ll need to be 10 of them.

Baghera: They might bring 10, huh.

Etoiles: Yeah, well, then again, we have time.

Baghera: Well, in any case, they don’t want to kill you anymore since you’re working with them.

Etoiles: Well, in fact, we’re not really— actually— I don’t really know what he’s thinking. Because the last time we talked I told them, ‘But if you lay even a finger on the Eggs, I’ll kick your fucking asses, you sacks of shit.’ And they left, and they didn’t answer me.

Baghera: Then again, they’re a bit cryptic, the Codes, you know.

Etoiles: Yeah, but normally they— I managed to talk with them a bit, so— so I don’t know. Personally, I’m telling you—

Baghera: Okay, no, what I mean is that I understand why when people see you they think, ‘Maybe it’s possible he’s getting a little bit corrupted by the Codes.’

Etoiles: No but yeah, yeah, I totally get it. But honestly, never. Never in a million years.

Baghera: I believe you! I trust you. But if there’s— if once you feel any difference or something of the sort, you mention it, okay? To whomever you want, but you mention it.

Etoiles: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (10000x)

Baghera: You know you’re not very reassuring when you say that, as an answer.

Etoiles: That’s true. But I’m telling you there’s no problem. And— actually. The moment I start feeling strange, I’ll put numbers. And so you’ll have to come get me.

Baghera: Okay, okay. I’ll remember that.

Etoiles: Just that. But I— I— yeah. I whisper in the Code’s ear.

Baghera: The day you start talking to me in binary, there’ll be an issue, basically.

Etoiles: The day I say, ‘10001’, that’s it. But actually, I’m telling you, I could never be corrupted because I have AVAST, my wool block which blocks viruses.

Baghera: That’s real, that’s real.

end video transcript.]

#qsmp #etoiles #baghera jones #étoiles #jay clips #jay rambles #8/10/2023 #please reblog this it took so long .#my fault for thinking transcribing and subtitling a 4min clip was a smart idea tho tbf #lmk if there’s any like . orthography errors in the transcript or whatevs i’ll correct em #i clipped this from étoiles pov but bagz’ pov was so fucking good too #the absolute side eye she gave him as he said the code ‘was a part of him now’ 😭 love the energy #these clips r just gonna serve as her I TOLD YOU SO evidence if smth happens #^ see idk if he’s actually gonna get corrupted (cubito’s chad enough to stave it off let’s be fr)#but i think it’s more of a question of whether the admins (and étoiles) will be able to resist the call of dramatic irony #bc it would be so good LMAO #anw shoutout to the part where he says ‘j’ai envie de lui [le Code]—‘ (I want him [the Code]—‘)#im well aware he just cut himself off before finishing his sentence but ty for furthering the codetoiles agenda king i appreciate it #saying ‘en ce moment j’ai un peu plus envie de lui’ about the Code is CRAZY kabdisdbsidjs

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usbotthrills · 2 years

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Oh yeah, how’s that working out for you

#IM SORRY #I JUST FOUND THIS SO FUNNY #Love me a bit of dramatic irony #bunny corcoran #edmund corcoran #I had a crush on a kid named edmund in yr 6 #just remembered that #huh #the secret history #secret history #Donna Tartt #dramatic irony #books and literature #camilla macaulay #dark academia

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jerreeeeeee · 1 month

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tragic actual play siblings…

#d20 #fantasy high #a crown of candy #acoc #taz #taz balance #abernant sisters #rocks sisters #taaco twins #d20 spoilers #mine #dont be weird on this post. please. -_-#looking back at acoc for these screenshots... lets just say theres a pair of codependent twins here and it aint taako and lup #but like more on ruby’s side tbh bc jet does have an identity outside of her but ruby kinda doesnt #theres a post abt how jet was the most impactful death possible bc if itd been ruby it wouldve solidified jets arc #but when ruby’s the survivor she’s just left lost and unmoored bc jet really was part of her #ruby & saccharina are especially tragic to me bc if jet hadnt died ruby wouldve loved her!! she couldve had a sister!! 2 sisters!!#but jet dying was necessary for her to enter the story at all bc of the nature of the medium... she was always doomed to be an outsider #the ‘you are my heart’ line is so good so sweet i love it so much #but what lup says immediately afterward… knowing whats coming in the very next ep… one of biggest dramatic irony moments in the show for me #& it will always bother me that taako is green on the taz transcripts HE’S BLUEEE (<- his vibe NOT his skin)

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apopcornkernel · 2 months

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and did bruce not, in the end, have a hand in jack drake's death as well? did tim becoming robin not seal his father's fate? we can talk in circles about the delegation of guilt but batman's quest to make no more orphans has, undeniably, made an orphan of robin

#of course i don't think it's bruce's fault that jack's dead i'm just being dramatic but i just so love this vicious cycle of orphanhood #dc #batman #bruce wayne #tim drake #poor jack i wont tag him he's already dead anyways #dcposting #i've definitely posted something along the lines of this for ditf jason lives au and thats bc it applies to both situations #i love the bitter irony of it i love when batman is a tragedy

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incorrectsibunaquotes · 6 months

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I have a theory that the reason we as an audience feel like Sibuna in Season 3b are making monumentally stupid choices is because the show doesn’t actually spell out for us that the kids don’t have all the information we have. In fact, they are operating with less than half of our knowledge. (This is gonna be a longgggg post, so read under the cut if you dare)

On my latest rewatch of S3 for fanfic purposes, i found myself really struggling to justify why the hell Eddie couldn’t put two and two together with his vision of Patricia and the “traitor” in Sibuna. I was frustrated with him because to me it was incredibly obvious! Like who else could it possibly be?? But then, I rewatched it again with a closer eye and everything suddenly clicked:

We, the audience, are watching the action from a completely zoomed out angle. We’re not just following Sibuna, but we’re also following Team Evil. We know Robert is capturing Sinners and what a Sinner actually is, before Sibuna is even fully aware that they failed to stop the eclipse ceremony. The kids metaphorically tripped at the starting line.

Furthermore, this is the first time in the show that the Sibunas have not had either the upper hand or were even on equal playing field with the adults. In Season 1, the Society was wholly unprepared for a bunch of adolescents to start foiling in their plans (bc why would they be prepared for that??), and Sibuna basically destroyed them due to adults underestimating their willingness to fuck around and find out. In Season 2, Victor/Vera and Sibuna were on equal ground; no one knew how to solve the tasks and it was a matter of a bunch of separate parties trying to figure it out before each other. They were all just throwing shit at the wall and hoping it stuck.

At the top of Season 3, we play a lot with both the S1 and S2 dynamics. At first, Sibuna is leagues and bounds ahead of the adults, and then they pretty quickly end up on the same footing. Then, in the second half of the season, that entire dynamic is flipped on its head, and it’s Sibuna who are wholly unprepared for the adults. I’ve talked about how the kids, especially our Sibuna veterans, got a little too comfortable with Victor and co’s ineptitude and cocky with their own intelligence… but that’s not even why they were so slow on the uptake.

None of the Sibunas even hear the word “Sinner” until they find that book in the secret room and read it while sitting on the stage. And the book does not explain at all what a Sinner actually is. It tells them that Ammut needs “the souls of five human sinners who embody the greatest flaws on mankind” and once she has five of them she can enter the human realm and cause lots of problems. Absolutely nowhere in the book does it ever say “Also, much like Robert, the soulless body of the Sinner is reawakened in service to the underworld.” The only other hint that could have possibly clued anyone in is “when your friends are not your friends”. But like, that clue was ages ago! Why would they even be thinking about that, when it had absolutely no bearing on their hunt for the secret room/answers up to that point? I cannot stress this enough, THEY HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE WHAT A SINNER IS! (I’m gonna repeat this sentence about 400 times in case you don’t get it now lol) Mind you, that atp in the timeline, this is approximately fifteen or so minutes before Denby captures Patricia.

But let’s rewind all the way back to when Team Evil devises a plan to kidnap Eddie. He’s in the crypt, right? It’s pretty evident to him that it was probably Denby, Victor, and/or Robert who trapped him here, but he’s got no real clue as to why. Of course, we all know that they’re planning on turning him into a Sinner, because we saw Victor get turned. But as far as Sibuna knows, Victor has never really been on their side, so all they think is that he’s being meaner than usual but of course he’s opposing them. That’s not strange.

Okay, so Eddie is stuck and distressed, but he’s not as panicked as he needs to be because nowhere in his mind does he think this could potentially end in what is essentially his death. Now, throw in the horrifying vision he has of Patricia getting dragged into a glowing sarcophagus. He still doesn’t know what a Sinner is, but he knows that whatever he just saw was really bad; it’s an incentive from the Osirian spirit (or the house, or the gods, or literally whatever) to actually try to get the hell out of there.

So we’re all sitting here watching going “Oh my god they’re gonna nab Patricia and make her evil! 😰” because we have context; Eddie has absolutely none. It’s also really important for later on that his vision ends when the sarcophagus door shuts. It’s framed as incredibly final, and for all Eddie knows, they’ve just stuffed Patricia in what he knows is a tiny cramped space and locked the door behind her. He thinks that at best they are going to kidnap her or, at worst, straight up kill her. Nothing in that vision indicates she’s walking out of there at all.

When Patricia ran off after the fake messages, Eddie is concerned for a lot of different reasons, but the two primary ones are the obvious “oh my god my girlfriend thinks I cheated on her what do I do???” and the other is “if she’s run off on her own, the adults could fulfill my vision!” But then she turns back up, which should be clear to us by now means that he thinks she’s safe. He’s waiting for her (for any of them) to disappear. But when none of them do, they think it’s fine. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t think Patricia is in danger of becoming a Sinner, he just doesn’t realize what that would actually look like.

Even when they’re all in the hallway morbidly joking about having to give up sinning, the language KT uses is telling of what they think being a Sinner means: “We don’t want to accidentally help out Team Evil [by sinning].” Of course, this statement works with the knowledge the audience has of everything, but if Sibuna actually knew what they were dealing with, KT would have said something more like “We don’t want to get captured/turned by Team Evil.” The jokes they’re making are still morbid, but because they think you just get put in the sarcophagus and that’s the end of it.

Let’s flash forward again to the phonograph getting smashed and Eddie’s second vision that prompts the witch hunt panic in the first place. The vision can be separated into three parts: 1) Eddie sees a hooded figure smash the phonograph (okay Sibuna already knows someone did it on purpose, not too crazy); 2) Robert approaches him creepily and has the mic-drop moment of “it was one of your little friends; you have a viper in your nest” (seriously what a raw line of dialogue… but also now Eddie is being told that there is a traitor. Pretty cut and dry); 3) he turns around and sees every other member of Sibuna mockingly throw up the Sibuna sign (uh oh!)

So here is where people (including me!) always got a little annoyed with Eddie for not doing the math. But upon several rewatches and actually listening to what everyone was saying, never once do any of the kids ever bring up the word “Sinner” during the entirety of this whodunnit arc. And that’s simply because it’s not even a thought that crosses their minds. The language they use is very telling: “traitor” and “betrayal” being the heavy hitters. If any of them actually had context for what was actually going on, the language they would be using would be more like “victim” or literally just “Sinner” as a noun. But they don’t, which is why they’re so hostile toward one another… and why KT was screwed from the moment Eddie had that vision.

Because the fact that they don’t know that a Sinner is an evil version of themselves (not just someone whose soul is being used as a power generator), means that on a subconscious level Fabian, Alfie, and even Eddie already assumed KT was guilty. And Sinner!Patricia knew that, and that’s why she was so easily able to pivot and pin it on her. KT was directly linked to Frobisher, and Fabian and Alfie had already been suspicious of her at the start of the season for other reasons. It’s why Fabian let Patricia help him with the finger printing in the first place: because he doesn’t believe it’s her. And Eddie would have no real reason to suspect Patricia for three reasons: 1) Because he’s in love with her; 2) Because he knows just how long Patricia (and Fabian, and Alfie) have been loyal to Sibuna and to each other; 3) Because he, like everyone else, was looking at this betrayal as a willing capitulation to the Team Evil.

The first time Sibuna becomes aware that a Sinner is an entity that they have to actually watch out for walking about (as opposed to just having to watch out becoming), is after KT and Harriet manage to escape Patricia in the Gatehouse. Harriet clearly knows what a Sinner is bc she has the presence of mind to actually explain (vaguely, of course, because she’s drugged to kingdom come) to KT what she’d just narrowly escaped.

And then when she confronts Sibuna and Patricia in the hallway after Miss Crocodile Tears is telling tales about KT trying to kidnap her, KT drops the bomb on the boys: “She was trying to make me a Sinner just like her!” Pause. Record scratch. Okay. Now everything they thought they knew about the situation is completely recontextualized as something much more sinister than what they initially thought. Because I’d always struggled with how cruel they were being to KT, especially if they thought it wasn’t her fault. But everything up until this point deeply suggests or rather expects us to understand that Sibuna only had two pieces of an 100 piece puzzle, and that them being mean to KT was because they thought she actually betrayed them.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is not stupid for not figuring it out right away. In fact, without knowing what a Sinner actually is, it would be an insane leap to assume Patricia had anything to do with the phonograph.

I’ve basically talked myself and all of you in several circles, but the bottom line is the show didn’t do a fabulous job of telling us that Sibuna had no clue what they were up against. It’s easy for us to sit back and go “what the hell is wrong with them are they stupid?” because we have all the knowledge of what’s going on eons before they do. This is a far more charitable read of the characters’ choices and thought process, and the only way any of their actions make any sense. In fact, this is less of a theory and more of what is… literally canon, I guess

#live laugh love dramatic irony #Maybe you all already knew this and didn’t need this behemoth text post but yeah #or maybe you were like me and just like ‘oh they’re all a bit daft aren’t they?’#tbh this makes everything about this arc way more sinister #anyway sorry that this is so rambly #I refuse to write real essays anymore I graduated leave me alone #house of anubis #tess rambles

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nostalgia-tblr · 10 months

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Right I'm not saying Odin's not had a terrible amount of colonialism and war going on over his however-long-it's-been reign but when Thor wants to lay waste to Jotunheim and Odin tells him off for this it's not just hypocrisy at work, because the Odin of the timeframe of that movie seems sure that this would be Wrong not just politically bothersome and yet he also doesn't really explain to Thor why things are different now and putting that together what you have is this: Odin can't explain his own apparent change of heart without revealing that "oh yeah your brother's a Jotun," even though he must be fairly sure that this information would stop Thor's xenophobic bloodlust in its tracks as effectively as it did his own.

#thor (2011)#mcu tag i guess #he's had plenty of time to think of a handy excuse that doesn't give anything away but in that reality things are less dramatic generally #like in the reality where when Odin fainted Frigga (remember her?) explained their thought process and expressed their love etc #and you know what now i wonder *when* sylvie got told she was adopted cos it *could* be not long before she wandered off-path #i think we've all assumed she just always knew? but if not the TVA come cos she's still playing valkyrie-saves-ppl AFTER she knows the trut #which would mean SHE did nothing 'wrong' - the point of divergence was her parents failing to traumatise her sufficiently and spark off #a spiral into villainy for her. which then also means they DID fuck up her life by not fucking her up enough. oh the irony :(

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drysaladandketchup · 4 months

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22 Mattdrai please

Thank you anon! I hope you enjoy :)

22. things you said after it was over

Last year, it was Matthew's precious Flames that got punted out of the playoffs. To add insult to injury, it was at the hands of the Oilers. Which is why, that same night, he sent Leon a slew of drunken texts from some dingy downtown bar because he was not in the mood to even look at Leon, let alone go home with him.

Those texts included one declaring they were breaking up, which Leon didn't take to heart because not even five minutes later he got another message assuring him that no they were not actually breaking up Matthew was just going to hate him for the next 48 hours. That, Leon could handle.

Hell, he'd probably have gone for 72 hours. Minimum. And he had to rest his ankle anyways, if he wanted any chance of seeing ice-time the next game. He'd be there when Matthew was ready.

This year, it's the Oilers who go out first.

Leon just barely keeps it together through the post-game media frenzy. He doesn't want to look at the cameras, barely keeps the shudder from his voice, which is little more than a whimper because he just can’t breathe. Hunkered down with his hood up because it feels safe, the only barrier between him and a world that just crushed his dream. Again.

It's not like he can be mad at Matthew, because he fucked off to Florida, a whole other division, so Leon has no excuse for not answering any of his texts, or the six separate times Matthew tried to call after Vegas knocked Edmonton on it's ass.

Only once Leon's back home for the night, drained and exhausted and dazed, refusing to go out with Connor and the guys because he really, really doesn't want to exist right now, does he look at his phone.

Cuddling Bowie in his arms, he sits on the couch and scrolls through the avalanche of texts from Matthew. The last one catches him off guard, and he stares at it, reading it over and over.

come down and see me. please.

And... yeah. Through the doom and gloom of another lost season, he misses Matthew. Matthew, who's season isn't done. Matthew, who doesn't need Leon, but wants him. Wants him to be there.

So Leon books a flight to Florida, and starts packing.

The next day he goes in early for clear-out, says his goodbyes, and drives right to the airport. After an almost nine hour flight--including a layover in Denver that's great for his legs but not his morale--he lands in Fort Lauderdale just as the sun hits the horizon.

Matthew's waiting for him at Arrivals, dressed in board shorts and sandals and button-down shirt, sunglasses and that damn bucket hat. He smiles when he sees Leon, waves, and the simplicity of it chips away at the heavy stone sitting on Leon's chest. He always breathes better when he's with Matthew.

"What, not even a sign?" Leon calls out once he's in earshot. "I thought you were excited to see me?"

Matthew slaps the brim of Leon's hat down over his eyes. "Next time I'll bring confetti canons and air horns."

And fuck, just hearing Matthew's voice again without a phone between them lifts a weight off Leon's shoulders. It almost makes the defeat worth it.

His hands are too empty suddenly. He wants to hold Matthew's, wrap him up in his arms, touch him anywhere and everywhere, inside and out. Replenish old memories, make new ones. Never let go again.

Matthew gets the jump on him once they're in his car, dragging Leon over the center console by his shirt and into a sloppy kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, scratchy beard and plush lips, and as always, it's perfect. This too, aches like a phantom pain when they're on opposite ends of the continent. Phone sex and a bit of imagination with his own hand can't totally replace the sex, but it definitely can't replace the sweetness of a kiss.

When he pulls back, Matthew looks like he's going to immediately drop the one thing Leon really doesn't want to hear--the dreaded I'm sorry about what happened--so he jumps first.

"I missed you."

If Matthew knows he's purposely being cut off, he doesn't show it. He bumps their foreheads together and closes his eyes, like he's just soaking Leon in.

"Missed you too."

As the dusk fades to night, they drive, and drive, and drive. Not to Matthew's house, that's immediately obvious, but Leon doesn't ask where they're going. He slumps in the passenger's seat, leg tucked up against the dashboard, and goes between watching palm trees and glistening waterfront, to watching Matthew.

He tries not to think about hockey, but it was a long and restless flight, and Matthew's got a stupid little air freshener shaped like skates, and the playoffs aren't actually over, so of course the first thing Leon says to break the silence is, "When's your next game?"

Matthew taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music playing on the radio. "Thursday. Against Carolina. We're flying out the day after tomorrow."

"Hmm. So what are we doing with all that time?"

"Fucking, hopefully." Matthew glances sidelong at him, tongue poking between his teeth. "At least for part of it. I still have practice, and you need to relax."

"What am I doing while you're gone?"

"Waiting for me to come back? You can stay at my place. Come to the games when we're at home. My family's going to drop in too, so, you know, be prepared for that."

Won't be Leon's first tangle with the Tkachuks. Pretty sure he's an honorary member of the family at this point, even if he still struggles to keep up with the energy they bring to a room. Not that he minds.

The rest of the drive is quiet enough that Leon dozes off. When he wakes up, groggy with jet lag, it's dark aside from the street lights, and Matthew is pulling into a parking lot up from a small, deserted beach. Leon doesn't know which one; there's so many here. He follows Matthew out of the car and down the promenade, down the stone steps to the sand, where grains slip between his toes and the sound of the waves soothes the storm in his own head.

Which is exactly why Matthew brought him here; somewhere secluded, somewhere that can't hurt him. Because Leon loves the ocean, and Matthew loves him.

He follows Matthew along the beach, going nowhere in particular. Matthew walks purposefully nonetheless, head high and shoulders back, warm breeze tugging at his clothes and ruffling his curls. Something Leon loves to do too, and can't wait to do again.

This place looks good on Matthew. If only it weren't so far away.

"I'm glad you came," Matthew says over his shoulder, slowing until Leon catches up. "I wasn't sure you would."

Why not? The year-round heat and the beaches and the seemingly endless bars are a nice change of pace. But more importantly, this is where Matthew is. Of course he was going to come.

"Beats sitting around re-watching the second round wondering what we could have done differently," Leon says instead, because it's true, and because he doesn't need to tell Matthew what he already knows.

"Hey, that's not a bad thing. But it's not what you need right now." Matthew swallows, takes an uneven breath like he's the one getting choked up. "I saw your interview yesterday. After the game. Leon, you know I didn't call you down here for me, right? Don't get me wrong, I'd fucking love for you to be here watching us play, but the way you sounded... I was worried you'd end up sitting around your house all alone and depressed."

"I'm not depressed. And I wasn't going to. I was planning on going back home."

"Great, so you can mope around in Germany instead."

"I wouldn't have been alone."

"Much as I love Bowie, he doesn't count, babe."

Leon stops walking, staring at the sand until Matthew stops too, turning back and right into Leon's space to block the wind, which has taken on a chill.

"Leon--"

"Our season's over, Matthew," he mutters. "I really thought we could... I didn't want it to end here."

Matthew sighs, but his eyes are sympathetic. "Yeah. I know. But you're not done. There's always next year. And a bunch more after that."

The same platitudes, every time. It's empty words. Leon knows it. Matthew knows it. But what else is there to say? You fall, you get back up, you try again. Rinse and repeat. That's what this league is.

In any other circumstance, Matthew would probably make some crack about the Oilers and how assuming you guys can actually get your shit together, you may have a chance, but it's, you know, fucking Edmonton, so...

But he's being kind for Leon's sake. Because Matthew's forked tongue turns to silk when he's off the ice. He's so gentle at times like this, handling Leon with kid gloves like he thinks he'll shatter if he so much as breathes too hard.

"I'm just getting tired of it always being 'next year'," Leon admits easily, because it is easy with Matthew. "Every time we come close, we get knocked down. It feels like shit. I'm fucking tired of it."

Every time he climbs the ladder, he tastes victory. The higher the wrung, the sweeter it is. And every time he falls, there's a tiny part of him that worries he'll never get his feet off the ground again.

"Hey." Matthew cups his cheek, forcing Leon to look him in the eye, into pale blues that dance and shine even in the dark. "You're not giving up on me, are you?"

The question catches him so off guard Leon jerks like he's been struck.

"What? No. Fuck no. The hell kind of question is that?"

Quitting has never even crossed his mind. He didn't come into this league thinking it would be easy. He's worked his ass off to get where he is, and sure he's got his own liabilities to work through, but he'll keep going until something gives out.

"Good. Just making sure." Matthew looks so damn smug, but Leon's learned to find that endearing too. "Only place left to go is up, right?"

Right. Leon said something like that to Matthew, once. You win or you lose. Only two options. If you lose, then all you can do next time is win. If you win, you keep winning until you make it to the top. Anger into action, failure into fortune.

Matthew's hand slips down Leon's forearm, searching for his hand, but stops when Leon flinches, and brushes a callused thumb back and forth over the bruise there.

"This from Pietrangelo?"

Leon huffs. "Maniac, yeah. It's fine. It wasn't as bad as it looked."

"Want me to rough him up a little if I see him down the line? My treat. Actually, it'd be my pleasure."

There's that blinding confidence. The Matthew that's going to ensure they blow right past Carolina, through Dallas or Vegas, and raise the Cup. Who's dumb enough to argue with him?

"If you want." Leon's almost too tired to smile, but he tries anyways.

And Matthew softens too, cheeks pinked and teeth showing between his parted lips. It's hard to think back to a time when he would never look at Leon like this; like he's so fucking in love with him it's physically impossible to hide it. Leon can only imagine how he looks to Matthew.

"I'll make you another deal while we're at it," Matthew says.

"A deal or a promise?" Leon knows what's coming, because he knows Matthew. His heart still jumps up into his throat.

"I'll win the Cup for you."

They've learned to say I love you in a million different ways. Somehow, they keep finding new ones.

It's so stupid. Matthew's not arrogant. But then again, he seems to be playing a game no one else is, in a way no one else can. He oozes confidence and bleeds charisma, possesses the kind of karma that can change destinies.

If anyone could actually say it, and do it, it's Matthew. Damn if Leon doesn't believe it, too.

So all he has to do is smile, nod, and say, "Okay."

"Just to be clear," Matthew says, "I'm not doing it for the Oilers. I'm doing it for you. And for me and the Cats, obviously. Maybe... maybe a little more for me and the Cats. No offence, babe."

Leon snorts. "It's fine. It's yours. You earned it."

"So have you." Damn right he has. "Shit just sucks sometimes."

Leon scoffs and rolls his eyes to whatever unseeing deity keeps fucking him over. But he's done wallowing. He's got something so much better standing right in front of him.

"You said this was a deal." Leon tugs him closer, one hand cupping the back of Matthew's head, pressing the words against his mouth. "So what do you want from me?"

Matthew smiles under his lips. "I just want you to be there to see it."

#hockey #mattdrai #matthew tkachuk #leon draisaitl #my writing #asks #of course the tragedy of the panthers losing the finals to vegas and matthew's injury looms over this one. I do so love dramatic irony #at least leon is there now so he and brady can both help matthew when he's hurt #matthew is upset they didn’t win and he couldn't keep his promise to leon but leon is like 'your bones are broken please calm down'#i'm actually usually pretty indifferent to petnames but I am so enamoured with matthew calling leon 'babe' I can just hear it #sometimes I don't think I can write romance because I'm very aromantic but then I write shit like this #and suddenly I'm like well damn I guess love is real #once again thinking I should be sued for defamation because I'm pretty sure 'min fic' does not mean 2k but oh well

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