#Oh man I forgot how much loneliness as even a theme got to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaedreaminn · 3 years

Text

Desperate Much?

Pairings: Ten x Reader.

Theme: fluff, angst, hurt, comfort, family, sad, happy ending. (Life is still going on)

Characters: Ten, Taeyong, Mark, Donghyuck, Jeno.

Word Count: 2k

~~~

Ten wasn't like his 'brothers'. Infact he wasn't ever their brother, he was their cousin. His dad was the one who inherited the family business and had settled with him and his mother in Thailand to branch out.

He had a happy and perfect life with both of his parents, but that was untill they both died unexpectedly in a car accident when he was eleven. And suddenly everything in his life was changing. He had to move to Korea to live with his uncle and his children, his father's buisness was now his uncle's buisness until Ten was old enough to take over. Until he could legally take over. He had to learn a different language, make new friends and start his life all over again in a very dysfunctional family.

He remembered the constant yelling between Mr.Lee and Mrs.Lee, having to sit by himself during those times when Taeyong would take his younger brothers Mark and Jeno and hide in his room, he remembered how Donghyuck would cry under the scrutinizing gaze of Mrs.Lee as she fought with Mr.Lee and the boy was stuck there not able to escape, the loss of the joys of family dinners that he was used to, the loneliness he felt. That was when he met you. You were his only friend in this country and even though he could barely talk to people you tried your best to talk to him despite the language barrier.

You were cheerful and jovial and very very clingy but he didn't mind that. You ate lunch with him and helped him with his Korean. You even made sure to stick by his side with the excuse of him being new here so he wouldn't get lost months after he arrived.

You were a blessing in disguise to him especially since it was so awkward with his cousin Taeyong at home and at school.

Time flew fast and a year had passed and he could speak and write Korean way better than before and lucky for him you were still stuck to his side.

In those trying times you were his only semblance of joy. The times in which Mark wouldn't talk at all, the times in which Taeyong would go around at the ripe age of twelve and hurt people with words so sharp that they would leave the school, when all Jeno did was look upto Taeyong and when Donghyuck started to act out getting himself in trouble so bad that he could have almost lost his life but no one cared.

It hurt Ten to watch all this happen but not being able to do anything about it because no matter how well he got along with the youger two, Taeyong would always pull his brothers away from him and take them to his room and well Donghyuck, he wouldn't talk to anyone at home.

But unfortunately all he could do was get used to this awful life, glad that you would quietly listen to him rant and then lighten his mood up with something silly.

He was mid rant one day when he spoke about how much he missed 'family dinners' that you interrupted him, "Why don't you have a dinner with your cousin's?" Ten scoffed at you and shut that idea down immediately but when he came home and saw how far apart everyone was he decided there and then that's what was needed.

So he forced Mark out of his room and away from his books, he pryed Donghyuck away from his bed, he bribed Taeyong and Jeno just followed his eldest brother and thats how he found himself at the diner table for the first time ever since his parents passed away.

"I used to eat dinner like this with my parents" he spoked but Taeyong glared at him, "I don't care"

"Look you want to be a brat be a brat but at the dinner table all feuds are forgotten and all hatred is gone, food is supposed to be consumed happy"

"What did your parents say that?" Taeyong asked, rolling his eyes.

"Nope y/n did!" Ten said with a cheeky smile, "Now c'mon dig in"

And so there started their first meal together with everyone silently serving themselves, "So we usually talk about our day at the dinner table" Ten smiled his eyes crinkling into two half moons. "I know none of you will say anything so I'll start, Teacher Park yelled at me for correcting him on his Korean today. I was so pissed" Taeyong snorted at that, "Yea that old geezer is weird"

"I know I don't like him either" Donghyuck spoke and Taeyong glared at him but Ten cleared his throat loudly and Taeyong sighed muttering an inaudible apology.

"I placed a fart cushion on his chair today" Donhyuck grinned proudly and collective snorts were heard across the table and Jeno chocked on his food as Taeyong patted the younger boys back. Mark was still eating quietly. Then Donghyuck frowned, "But he didn't like that..." He then put out his hands showing everyones his palms, "So he took me out of the classroom and hit me" Tens heart sank at the red bruises on the boys hands and Taeyong was glaring again but this time it wasn't at Donghyuck, "How dare that old rat hit a seven year old child like that" the eldest growled. But Donghyuck only smiled, "It's okay I'm used to it" he said and Tens heart broke at that statement and by the looks of it so did Taeyongs.

Something shifted between the boys that night and they all knew it. Ten came to school the next day boasting to you about the success of his first family dinner and how excited he was for the next one tomorrow.

He even told you the story Donghyuck had told him not knowing what to do and that very day you got detention for throwing your thick Oxford Dictionary at Mr.Parks face.

Ten still smiles at that memory, a tiny you standing on your bench, yelling out a swear word and launching the book right at the unsuspecting teachers face, nevertheless what you did got the principal's attention. And without making a big deal of it she started an investigation on the teacher.

You chatted excitedly the next day about how exhilarating it was for you to throw a book at that man's face and Ten smiled listening to you talk with animated gestures.

That night he was greeted by the sight of Taeyong silently treating their youngest brothers wounded hands while avoiding the younger boys adoring gaze.

And so life moved forward and Ten had new friends and family here in Korea. And of course you. At this point he wasn't sure if you were his friend or family or both. But you were you.

You were known in school as- The y/n. The y/n who had all of Ten's attention leaving zero for his admirers.

To Ten you were the y/n who made him happy, the y/n who made him laugh, the y/n with a beautiful smile, the y/n who held him as he cried, the y/n who would nag him endlessly when he didn't eat properly, the y/n who would latch pinkies with him and walk everywhere, the y/n who was exceptionally smart and savy.

His life was finally looking up, with you by his side helping him through it all. And slowly he was making new happy memories, like the day he got you all flustered for the first time, or the day Taeyong had put his foot down and finally dragged Donghyuck away from the fighting couple into his room along with Ten, the day he took you to the amusement park you wanted to go to so badly that you kissed his cheek and went running off to the roller coaster, the day Jeno who only looked upto Taeyong had asked him for help, the day he snuck out of the house at night to watch the stars with you, the day Mark spoke at the diner table for the first time, the day you tripped and fell and he got it on camera, the day Taeyong called him his brother, the day of their class picnic and many more.

But there were also bad days like they day he had his first big fight with you or the day Donghyuck had come to him crying and crying without ever telling him why or the day where both the adult Lee's decided to join the family diner and ruined it.

But even those didnt last because his fight with you ended with the two of your crying in each other's arms promising to never have a fight this big again, because the day Donghyuck cried so bitterly that it shook the entire house Taeyong, Mark and Jeno rushed in and it turned into a mini sleepover as they took care of the youngest who soon forgot why he was crying and promised to make sure he only laughs in the future. And the day that Mr. And Mrs. Lee ruined the family diner was the day all five of the boys snuck out to eat marshmallows and chocolate in the park. The initial idea was to make smores but none of them knew how to make a fire and they were all out of crackers.

Those were just a few happy moments with many more to come like the day he asked you out, or the day he and his brothers went camping together, or the day Donghyuck smiled a smile so pure as his eyes shone with genuine happiness or the day Jeno started to think for himself and made friends who were a good influence on him. And the day Mark started dating someone. (Ten genuinely thought by how quite the boy was he would have to force him to talk to people let alone date someone), the day he got his father's company back and the day he proposed to you on the banks of the Han river, under the stars with his family and closest friends there to witness the moment.

"Why are you smiling so big?" your voice interrupted his thoughts and his smiled widened even more at the sight of you. "Did you fart?" You asked him and he chuckled grabbing onto your arm and and pulling you down to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Nothing I'm just happy"

"Ten Lee I swear to god if you're on drugs then I want a divorce even before I marry you" you scolded playfully and Ten chuckled, "My only drug is you baby" he cooed and you gaged "Eww gross get a room" you said and he deadpanned.

"You're weird you know that y/n?" He asked with a small chuckle.

"Clearly you knew what you were getting into" You smiled, teeth on full display with how wide your grin was.

"Obviously"

"Oh by the way, I handled your little mishap at work today and got a few things you were supposed to do tomorrow scheduled for later and the rest got done today so your free tomorrow the entire day" you said and he smiled at you looking at you so lovingly. He doesn't remember that one moment he realised he was in love with you, maybe there wasn't just one lightbulb moment where her realised he loved you. Maybe he always knew or maybe he gradually figured it out. But that didn't matter all that matters is that he loves you and you love him.

"Ahh what would I do without you?" he asked snuggling into your neck and you chuckled, "Let's never have an answer to that question okay" you said and he nodded, you were right. You were there through evey step of the way after his life turned upside down and he's sure as hell he doesn't want to find out what it would be like without you so Ten grinned placing a small peck on you neck, "I'm gonna take you on the best date of your entire life tomorrow"

"Desperate much?"

"Y/n I'm literally engaged to you!"

~~~

Lee brother's- A mini series

Previous Part: Lee Mark

Next Part: Lee Donghyuck

#Ten #ten fic #ten ff #ten imagines #chittaphon #nct #wayv #nctu #nct imagine #wayv imagine #nct imagines #kpop imagines #kpop #wayv ten #nct ten #neo chaotic technical difficultues #neo culture technology #neo culture tech on my mind

59 notes · View notes

cringelordlikesplaz · 3 years

Text

Ocean’s Eternity

So. I’ve been thinking about the end of Obsidian Age a little too much. Basically this is the 3000 years Plastic Man spent on the bottom of the ocean. I might do a follow up to this later.

When he woke, everything was dark. There was a sensation throughout his body which felt like suffocation, and there was this... itch. All over. But it was mild. It wasn't important compared to the other, more pressing matter at hand.

He couldn't move. He couldn't see. He couldn't feel or hear or smell or taste or do anything.

Well, that's not true.

He could wait.

~~~

He was on the ocean floor, this much he knew.

~~~

He wasn't being saved. After waiting for however long he'd waited, that was becoming clear. His team was most likely all dead. That was the only scenario he could see where they didn't save him.

He was in the thick of it, that was for sure.

~~~

He was going to be stuck for a long, long time.

~~~

He mourned for his team. He would have cried if he'd had eyes, but he didn't. Not like the ocean needed any more salt water. He mourned for a lot longer than he should have, honestly. But it wasn't like there was anything else to do but sit there and be sorry.

What finally got him to stop, however, was the fact that they all probably went somewhere nice. Excuse his pun, but there was no way in Hell that the Justice League didn't go to heaven.

~~~

This couldn't be fixed.

~~~

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there. It had been a long while.

He'd taken to counting the seconds, unsure if he was anywhere near correct. No one really concerned themselves so much if the space between beats were too long or short enough. Maybe the Flash, actually. But even he didn't count the seconds.

Or maybe he did. He didn't know. He couldn't ask.

He was going crazy.

He was going very, very crazy.

He knew this. He was pretty sure crazy people weren't supposed to be so aware of their craziness. But when you are aware of nothing else but your mind, he supposed you had to be self aware.

~~~

Every once in a while, he'd have something happen to him that felt like a seizure. It was painful and sudden and sharp and he begged any gods that would listen to let him be. And maybe something out there listened. Maybe something took pity on this wretched thing on the bottom of the sea because when the seizure ended, he'd black out.

Peaceful oblivion.

~~~

He was mad. In more than one way, he was mad. He was pissed, would be the more correct term in this situation. He was mad at his team. At the Justice League. He was so, so angry. How dare they. How dare they?!

They talked shit about him. Sometimes behind his back. Sometimes to his face. They never gave him an ounce of respect. They never gave a damn.

And then they had the audacity to die and leave him there, on the bottom of the sea. Forever. With nothing to do but count the seconds which was probably wrong now that he was so worked up. Great job, Justice League, you made me lose count!

He fumed and raged and plotted and didn't scream because he had no mouth.

~~~

The itching was bad. It was really, really bad. It was so, so bad. It was the only thing he could feel. It was consuming every memory of every other sensation. He didn't remember what sunshine felt like, or the rain. He couldn't even feel the coldness or the water or the pressure that was certainly around him.

He could only feel that damned itching.

He hated it. He hated it so much.

He wanted to turn into a monster and rake his claws across the Earth, he wanted to pull up the land and have magma flow out like the world's life blood. He wanted to shriek and yell and cry and tear his brain out of his skull and slam it into the center of their planet and then maybe- just maybe- he could finally die.

Or maybe he'd infect the planet with his strange body, and then the world and everyone on it would know his pain, know this madness that crawled like a million spiders made of razor blades just under skin that wasn't there.

~~~

His dreams offered no reprieve. His dreams were too lucid, nowadays. Too much time alone in your head would make you a master at your subconscious, he supposed. Except he was still very very very crazy, and so he wasn't quite a master at anything.

But sometimes- sometimes.... his dreams weren't lucid. Maybe he wasn't even asleep when he dreamed, anymore. Maybe it didn't matter. But sometimes, his mind finally calmed, the insanity put away for a few hours, minutes, seconds, all would be soft.

His dreams, the not-lucid ones, whether he was awake or not, had a common theme.

He would be spending time with his son. Whose face, despite so much time alone and insane and in pain on the bottom of the sea, had remained clear as day.

He would be holding someone's hand, and despite how he can't remember the warmth of the sun or a fireplace or a hug, would be warm anyway.

He would be smiling, calm, and happy. He wouldn't be so alone.

When he woke, the madness usually got worse.

~~~

He was no longer mad at the Justice League. He'd finally calmed down. He was still mad, he was certain of that, but that was in the sense that he was insane. He was no longer angry at his old, dead team.

Because rational thought, something he thought had died within him, had found a way to resurrect itself. Like some shambling zombie, it crawled its way up from the bottom of his soul and started to whisper facts to him.

And he was so, so tired of being mad.

They didn't put him here. They would save him, if they were alive. They'd pull him from the depths of this dark Hell and they'd put him back together, piece by piece. They would take away the pain and the darkness and they'd give him back his sunshine and his family and his heart.

Because they were the Justice League. And they were good.

He mourned for them again, because they deserved to be remembered, even if the only thing that could remember them was the dust at the bottom of the world.

~~~

He was no longer mad. Probably. He wasn't in the best position to tell, honestly. Oh, and he means mad in the sense of insanity, this time.

He was no longer crazy.

It lost its appeal, strangely enough. If he was correct with his counting, it had been around a thousand years. Maybe more, maybe less. Maybe he was completely off. It didn't matter.

What mattered was that, even though he was sane -saner- his mind was still a wreck. In the expanse of his mind, he stood, hands on his hips. He surveyed the damage. Memories shredded, emotions lost, fear and despair and loneliness on a rampage.

He cracked his metaphorical knuckles.

It was time to start picking up the pieces.

~~~

Slowly, very slowly, he pieced together his memories. Some were beyond repair. He tried to fix them anyway. With patience and care and all the time in the world, he glued his old life back together. His name was Plastic Man, Eel O'Brian, Patrick. Huh.

He was a thief. A hero. A father.

He had a son. He remembered his son. He never forgot his son, despite it all. But his son's memory did get warped- he'd have to smooth that out.

But, he noted with no small amount of pride, he'd remembered his son's face. Not his height or his age or his voice, but he remembered his face.

He also remembered that he wasn't a very good father. That came with much less pride.

~~~

In the wake of his madness came clarity. Acceptance. He made his peace with his eternal damnation. Some sort of thousand-year long five-stages-of-grief thing. With a lot more insanity than was usually recommended.

He wasn't going to lie to himself: it sucked. There was nothing good about his situation. But there was nothing he could do, and going mad had only made things worse.

In the wake of his madness came clarity, and with clarity came the realization that he was lonely. Eternally so. He was lonely and regretful and sad. He had so many things he wanted to do. So many places to go, people to see. He had wanted so much.

He didn't know if he deserved it.

He probably did.

~~~

So he was probably still a little bit crazy. Not like before. He was, what he considered, a healthy amount of crazy.

Just enough to pass the time. Talking to yourself was never considered 'sane' anyway.

~~~

He was still counting the seconds. It helped things stay in order. He was counting in his dreams, in the deepest part of his subconscious, he counted. He had built quite the internal clock for himself, it seemed.

~~~

Sometimes, he'd stop for a while. Not counting, of course. He had probably forgotten how to stop counting. But everything else. Sometimes, everything else would stop.

His mind would be ever so slow, and nothing truly mattered in those moments. He simply existed, pieces of plastic on the ocean floor.

And it would take a while to come back. He didn't really want to go back, but he always did. And when he did, he'd laugh.

He was plastic in the ocean. He'd been polluting the waters before plastic had even been invented.

It wasn't very funny, but he'd laugh anyway.

~~~

He was in the middle of replaying a baseball game in his mind for the nth time when something happened. Another seizure. Hadn't had one of those in a while.

But something- something was off. It-

He woke up.

~~~

His thoughts were sluggish. There was- noises and- lights? Pressure. He must have really gone off the deep end now.

And he felt like a pile of mush- of goo or slime- and-

And the itching wasn't there.

The itching was always there.

And he could move.

He may have freaked out a little bit.

~~~

"Plastic Man, you need to calm down!" Superman yelled.

He snarled, "Don't tell me what to do! You're not even real!"

"We are real! Please, we need you to listen to us-" Martian Manhunter was cut off as he wrenched up a metal panel from the floor and chucked it at him. It phased through the martian, of course, but it did seem to surprise the green guy. His hallucination was very convincing, he'd admit.

The sensations being too loud and painful and too much. The light too bright, the air too fresh. He didn't even know he'd remembered how to breathe.

Suddenly, Superman was in front of his face and was- well he was petting him. It was kinda weird.

But- but his hands were warm. Not only that they had- they had texture and he could feel how tense Superman was, but as the seconds passed and he calmed, so did the tension leave Superman's hands.

"Oh." He whispered. He reached up and took Superman's hand, inspecting it. It was strong, like steel, and he could feel a pulse beat just beneath the skin.

"Oh." He said, interlocking his fingers with Superman's. He gave a light squeeze and Superman squeezed back. He looked up at the man of steel, noticing for the first time he'd shrunken back down into a reasonable size.

A pressure was draped across his back- A black cape had been wrapped around him. He looked over to see Batman kneeling beside him, a hand on his shoulder. He touched the cape on his shoulders- it was heavy and thick and made of something smooth on one side and soft on the other.

He dragged his fingers across it, reveling in the sensations.

Martian Manhunter was there too, now, and he reached out and gently touched the martian’s face. J'onn allowed him to do that, his eyes shut.

"Oh wow," He said, his voice strange to his own ears.

"...Is this real?" He asked, finally pulling away to look at his hands. They were melted slightly. His entire form was melted slightly. He was also naked. He hadn't even noticed. No wonder Batman covered him up.

"Yes." Batman said, his grip tightening like he could convince him through sheer force of will. Maybe he could.

"...Oh," He said, letting his hands fall.

He swallowed.

"Oh my God." He said, his voice cracking. He buried his head in his hands, feeling his body melt even further.

Someone hugged him. He wasn't sure who. He rested his chin on their shoulder. They put their arms around him and somehow that helped his body stay stable.

And everything was still too much and too close but it was real. It was real.

He was back.

The Justice League saved him.

~~~

He knocked on the door. He stood there, anxious. The sky was dark. It was dusk. Clouds covered up the sunset. Smog was in the air. Cars drove in the street and the wind howled overhead.

He couldn't stop staring at it all. It was real. It was real. Real in a way he'd forgotten. Real in a way his mind couldn't replicate, not in 3000 years. Though it had come very, very close.

The door opened.

"Patrick," Angel greeted, "How nice to see-"

She paused, taking him in.

"Did something-?"

"Yes." He said, his voice hoarse.

She opened the door for him, and he stepped inside.

"Where's Luke?" He asked.

"Living room." she said, "Come."

Their apartment was small. But not too small.

Luke sat on the couch, cartoons playing on the TV.

"Dad?" Luke said, brightening. He jumped up from the couch and hugged him tight. He returned the hug, stretching his arms out of his sleeves and holding his son close.

"Dad!" Luke said, pulling away, "You're back!"

"Yes." He said, "And I'm here to stay."

He turned to look at Angel.

"If that's alright...?"

"Of course." She said, smiling softly, "But I'm going to need help around the house."

He smiled at her, and nodded.

"Dad?" Luke said, weary, "What happened? You and the Justice League saved the day, right?"

"Yeah, Luke. We did." He said, "But I'm not a part of the Justice League anymore."

There was a pause. Angel sat down in a chair.

"Did they kick you out...?" Luke asked.

"No, son, they didn't. I didn't do anything wrong, either. I just-" He choked back a sob, "I can't go back."

Luke hugged him tighter.

"I love you, Luke. With all my heart." He said, failing to keep the tears at bay.

Luke nodded into his chest. He thought he could feel his shirt getting wet.

"So I'm going to stop being Plastic Man."

#plastic man #patrick o'brian #eel o'brian #jla obsidian age #obsidian age #jla #fanfic #fic #my wrtiting #fanfiction #luke o'brian #superman #batman #martian manhunter

30 notes · View notes

akuzon-prime · 3 years

Text

To New Beginnings ~OM Secret Santa 2020~

this goes out to @ikesensrandomninjagirl ! Happy Holidays <3 Word Count: 2397

Summary: It all comes down to this and Lucifer is trying his hardest to hide the nerves that are assailing him. What he really needs is his brothers by his side and he can take a new step towards the next chapter of his life.

Pairing: Implied Dialucy

Theme: Pre wedding jitters and sweet brotherly fluff

This was it.

He couldn’t believe that it was finally here...finally happening. After so many years of pain, anger, and loneliness...it was over. It was beginning.

…It was terrifying.

Lucifer bit his lip carefully, adjusting his lapels and gloves in a nervous gesture that he'd somehow picked up since leaving the Celestial Realm. Of course, RAD looked quite different than it had only days ago - he hardly recognized it at all now that it was decorated with ivy and orchids, and LOTS of white tulle. Asmodeus, Barbatos, and MC had spared no amount of energy to make the school shine like a true wedding hall. It might not be how he would have decorated things himself, but he could hardly deny his brother the opportunity to go all out for the occasion.

He let out a shaky breath and glanced back into the mirror. His hair had started out styled as usual – bangs framing his cheeks and parted to the side. Asmo nearly had a fit. Now, Lucifer’s raven locks were swept back from his forehead and a gel that miraculously made the styling seem natural held it in place. The Avatar of Lust was busying himself by rushing around the room, making sure that everything - the bouquet, the ring, and whatever else was in place; Lucifer had long since stopped trying to watch him. The knowledge of what was soon to happen was rushing over him all at once. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye and he heard a gasp before he had the chance to wipe it away. His brother was by his side instantly, dabbing at it with a baby blue handkerchief.

"What did I tell you? I thought we got all the wild emotions out last night at the bachelor party. What’s wrong now? Don’t make me have to whip out the demonus to get you through this. You need to be sober to say those lines." The man's attitude, while feisty, held notes of love and respect for his eldest brother. "No more tears till you get to the altar, got it? Because otherwise, you'll get me crying. If my make up smudges, there will be the Devildom to pay."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lucifer muttered.

Asmodeus hummed, ignoring the blatant attempt to change the subject. His fingers plucked open one of the buttons on Lucifer's vest and he tucked the handkerchief inside so that the small square rested against the white dress shirt. "MC told me that this is something some humans do for weddings. It's borrowed and blue. I think you're old enough."

Despite the glare leveled at him, Asmo laughed merrily. "You even have something new. The rock."

Lucifer fidgeted. He wore the engagement ring over his gloves typically...but since Diavolo would be removing them during the ceremony, he had forgone the ring for the day. Diavolo knew his tastes well - it was modest and more importantly, the best thing he had ever been given.

"Ya need something else!"

Lucifer's lips pursed but he let out a slow and even breath as he looked at his white-haired brother in the doorway. Mammon was grinning and holding up a single Grimm. Probably his only Grimm, currently. Crimson eyes tracked his brother's movements as Mammon crossed the room to him and slipped the coin into his hand. "That goes in your shoe."

He squinted his eyes at the coin and then cut his gaze to Mammon. "...Why. That sounds asinine."

Mammon opened his mouth and then after a second's hesitation, closed it with a shrug. "Hell if I know."

Bending down, Lucifer slid the grimm down the inside of his leather shoe, wiggling his slender index finger till the coin was tucked and snug against his arch. Straightening, he reached to rake his hand through his hair but paused, remembering at the last second that it was styled. His red eyes met his brothers. "Anything else?" Mammon turned a chair backwards and sat, resting his arms on the curved wood. "Ya look fine to me. Stuffy as usual, but fine.

"Asmodeus stepped back and lifted a hand to tap his finger against his cheek as his golden eyes evaluated the groom from head to toe. Just as he was about to confirm that Lucifer looked perfect, his eyes widened and a strangled gasp escaped him - startling the hell out of Mammon who jumped out of his chair and stumbled back against the table beside it. Lucifer's only reaction was to raise his eyebrows.

"What's wrong?! Did ya hafta nearly faint? We're right here!"

"YOUR CUFFLINKS! We forgot them in your room! SHIT!" The tone of Asmo's voice made it seem like the world was ending over that little oversight.

Lucifer let his breath out. "Language, As. Are they really so important? We should be fine without -"

"DEVILDOM NO! You stay here! I'm going back to the House of Lamentation."

Before Lucifer could utter a reply, Asmodeus was out the door with a whirl of his woven gold scarf. Red eyes drifted from his younger brother's departing figure back to the mirror - gazing at himself in the finery of the tuxedo that had been tailor made for him. He reached a hand forward to touch the glass as if he didn't recognize himself.

"Oh no, don't ya go second guessing yourself." Mammon came over and rested a hand on his older brother's shoulder as they both looked at their reflections. Mammon's eyes were soft - a rarity for him when the two of them were together. Over the last few centuries, Mammon had been at the brunt of Lucifer's irritation but that still didn't lessen their affection for one another. Lucifer trusted him more than anyone and was still Mammon's favorite brother. No more words needed to be said. Mammon was his best man for a reason.

There was a knock on the door and both men turned. Asmodeus was fast when he wanted to be but that was a bit ridiculous. He wouldn't risk perspiration for the sake of a few accessories nobody would miss.

Maybe it's one of the others. He sighed. As much as he was looking forward to what would come after the wedding, his nerves were raw and his meter for dealing with others, even his own family, was nearing empty. "Come in?"

His visitor was most certainly not one of his brothers. At least...not anymore.

"...I'll admit, you're the last person I expected to see."

Standing in the doorway was a man who was radiance incarnate. His robes were no different from usual but Simeon always looked perfect - he was an angel after all. Blinding beauty was expected of the divine. Lucifer didn't hate him. Far from it. ...still, Simeon represented something, someone, inside Lucifer that he had left behind. There was nothing to mar the soft smile on the angel's lips. His tranquility reflected like pools in his eyes.

"I hadn't planned on seeing you before the ceremony." Simeon admitted. Lucifer resisted the urge to cross his arms. Instead, he moved away from both the mirror and Mammon to pour a cup of water from the pitcher sitting on the table.

"...then why are you here?" Of course Simeon would be in attendance. Luke as well. Someone cleared their throat and Simeon looked over his shoulder before stepping aside to show the human in the doorway. They were far better dressed than their usual RAD uniform and it seemed his busybody brother had gotten their hair tamed as well. There was an apology in their eyes.

"I'm the one who dragged him here." MC's voice had a soothing effect on Lucifer and he felt his muscles loosen as he looked at his closest friend. There was an apology in their eyes and they looped an arm through Simeon's. "I brought him here because..."

At the complicated look on MC's face, Lucifer supplied the end of the sentence for them. "...you're each other's date?"

"No." The two replied simultaneously (and Lucifer could swear he heard Mammon let out a sigh of relief), both managing to sound completely entertained and confused at the prospect.

"Then...what's going on ten minutes before my wedding?"

"It's silly," Simeon replied, looking sheepish. MC's eyes rolled so far back in their sockets, Lucifer could imagine they could see their own thoughts to wonder exactly what choices they had made to land them here in the first place.

"It’s not." MC pinched the inside of the angel's arm and he gave a startled yelp. Letting the man go, MC pushed Simeon slightly and stepped back towards the door, ignoring his look of betrayal. They reached out and snagged Mammon's hand, pulling him after them. "I'm going to find Beel and Belphie. See you at the aisle."

Lucifer stiffened, staring at Simeon and his bewildered expression. "...I'll be the one in white."

MC's laugh could be heard as the door shut, leaving the two men in an awkward silence.

"You look very handsome, Lucy." As usual, Simeon was the first one to break. Lucifer wanted to snap at him to knock it off with the nickname. Once upon a time, though, he would have smiled at the compliment instead of feeling uncomfortable. Marriage had never even been a prospect when he lived in the Celestial realm. Simeon looked so forlorn, though, that even with the negative emotions churning inside him from the recollection the nickname brought him, he felt no ill will towards the angel. Lucifer took a breath and spoke clearly, despite his hesitation on the matter.

"Would you mind walking me down the aisle, since you're here?"

Simeon's eyes widened at his suggestion and then glanced down at his clothes. Oh yeah. After all his careful planning, the stylish Asmodeus was going to have a hernia when he saw Simeon walking down the aisle in the same clothes he wore on a daily basis. Something about the normalcy of it made something tight in Lucifer's gut release its hold. Simeon's voice was astonished. "...you actually want me to?"

"You are my brother, too. ...were."

Simeon opened his mouth to say something but was cut off.

"Lucifer, I'm assuming you're decent since As sent me down to come and get you. I'm ignoring decorum just coming in." Without even knocking, Satan walked into the room, a pair of cufflinks gripped in his hands. "He asked me to bring these to you. And by asked I mean commanded. And what the Devildom are you doing here?"

Satan's gaze had fallen to the unexpected guest. Simeon just gave a blithe smile as if he hadn't just had the wind knocked out of him by Lucifer's unexpected offer. He reached out and adjusted Satan's tie and pocket handkerchief. The blonde stepped away, confusion still etched on his face. "Asmodeus has been a fiend today. Is there anyone he hasn't dressed?"

His tone was teasing but the words missed Lucifer entirely. Satan and Simeon didn't interact often - they were two completely separate parts of his life. Satan wasn't exactly his brother, but that had never been much of an issue in Lucifer's eyes. Usually, Satan wanted to antagonize him more than anything else. He took the cufflinks from Satan's proffered hand and adjusted them to the ends of his jacket sleeves. "Was there something you needed, Satan? The ceremony is just about to start."

The blonde's face reddened and he gruffly cleared his throat, choosing to look anywhere other than at Lucifer. "I was just... It had crossed my mind... Can I...walk you down the aisle?"

The question seemed to be more shocking than Lucifer's offer to Simeon. Despite not having any real emotion behind the word, it came out anyway.

"Why?"

Satan's ruddy cheeks darkened and he cleared his throat. "Well. You...brought me into existence. It seems, I suppose, appropriate? Also, obviously, a one time deal."

"...to take me out of it? I don't exactly see marriage as the end of the world." Lucifer's words were wry but he was, in all honesty, humbled by the offer. Satan out of all of his brothers...

"That's not what I meant," The Avatar of Wrath huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. The petulant look made much more sense than the previously bashful one. "I just meant that you gave me the start of a new life, I should give you away to the start of yours."

Lucifer was speechless. Simeon smiled softly and placed a hand on Lucifer's elbow. Naturally, it made sense for Lucifer to be given away by one of the six demon brothers rather than the angel himself. "There you have it. I think you should probably take him up on the offer."

"...of course." Lucifer blinked and stood taller, taking a deep breath. Simeon moved away from him but the taller man dropped a hand on his shoulder. "I have to thank you. At least now, nobody will be looking specifically at me when the three of us go down the aisle."

The processional music began to play and every nerve in his body shot to attention at the sound. He was again the shell shocked groom that he had been before his two escorts had arrived. Simeon immediately saw his reaction to the organ's tones and he recovered from the shock of not being turned aside in favor of Satan. "You'll be ok, Lucy...I won't let you trip. Though I'm sure nobody would laugh if you did."

"I would," Satan interjected. Lucifer gave him a look that said that he didn't appreciate the joke but when Satan held his elbow out to him, he wove his arm through it. "Looks like that music means it's our cue."

Simeon didn't take Lucifer's other arm but stood close by his shoulder - staying right at his side, where he would have been anyway before the Fall. It felt right to have him there.

The men stepped into the hallway, adjacent to the grand room where the ceremony was being held. The doors opened wide, seemingly on their own and Lucifer was faintly aware of the students and friends and family in attendance - rising from their seats and staring at him. His ruby eyes instantly traveled straight down the flower petal covered aisle to a tall man with a shock of red hair and sparkling mischievous eyes. He stared at him with his mouth slightly agape and a tinge of red on his dark cheeks. Diavolo...

...This was it. It was beginning.

#OBEY ME #obeymesecretsanta2020 #Maiden's notebook #fireflowermaiden #dialucy #wedding au #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo

26 notes · View notes

horrorslashergirl · 4 years

Text

Chromeskull x Cop!Reader x The Collector

A dark themed erotic novel for the twisted minds

Resume: Some things bring you nightmares and unwanted memories back. They say you can’t bury the past, because at some point it will come back. You weren’t prepared for this.

Chapter 1: Nightshift Turn Out

Chapter 2: Twisted Tongue

Chapter 3: Rising from fire like the Phoenix

Chapter 4: Video Shadows

Chapter 5: New beginning and Past memories (You are here)

Chapter 6: Lovers Reunion

Chapter 7: Sweet Blackmail

Chapter 8: False Freedom

Chapter 9: Ugly Jealousy

Chapter 10: Sinful Ecstasy

Warning: This one contains violence and slight gore.

After three months in Jacksonville, you couldn't deny the loneliness that crawled up your very being; work was great and it paid all your necessities, so you couldn't whine about financial problems, but outside work, you were pretty much alone, saw for the fact that you took on a poodle dog to ease some of that depression. Dating just wasn't your department and most guys couldn't even live it up to put on a great conversation. You still kept in touch with some old friends from Illinois and occasionally chatted up with them to get the time going. One of your girl friends gave you some cheap advice about entering dating sites, but you knew from high school that most of these sites were full of creeps and old perverts who wanted to jack off to under-age girls. It made you almost throw up, but you took on her advice and entered one, putting on a single picture of you, but a very decent one. You weren't going to be found on a dating site with nude pictures of you, just no.

That's how you found yourself now on a Saturday night on the couch with a glass of red wine, your white-furred pet next on the couch, sleeping after a day of running with you in the park. Your laptop was on your lap, listening to some music, a separated opened window of the dating site. So far just a few guys entered to chat with you. One was living in Oregon, so too far away, another one was just flirting cheaply with you.

You wondered how your brother managed to get a girlfriend so easily. He told you that he meet her when he went to buy a new laptop; so far he was very happy with her. Her name was Spann and she worked in the business industry, you haven't met her but your brother sends you a picture of her. Definitely pretty and very professional looking. You were glad he finally found someone who will cherish him, she always came by to his apartment to help him and even cook for him. To you, it sounded like a dream partner.

You were pulled out from your thoughts by the sound of a ding, signaling that someone entered on your chatroom on the dating site. You only hoped it wasn't some creep who wanted your nudes; so you opened the window.

JSkull: Hello there.

Well, at last, it wasn't a direct 'I wanna see your boobs' message.

TattooedKitty: Hey there.

You sometimes hated your choice of username, but it was completely random, plus it had a bit f truth behind it, having your whole back tattooed. You did that in high school when you had that rebel phase, still deep inside you enjoyed the freedom you had back then.

JSkull: What's a girl like you doing on this site?

TattooedKitty: Trying to find a guy who can manage to keep a conversation, at last.

JSkull: Sassy. I like it, but trust me. You won't find that type of person here.

TattooedKitty: So, you say you cannot manage to keep up an intelligent conversation?

JSkull: Smart girl. I was joking. You don't seem like the type of woman to seek out dating sites.

TattooedKitty: Then what type of girl do you peg me as?

JSkull: Daddy's good little girl.

TattooedKitty: I'm not little and what about you? Why are you on this site?

JSkull: Kill some boredom.

That was his last reply, then he logged off. Well, that was weird and when you looked at the clock your eyes widened, remembering that tomorrow you had to go to work. You closed your laptop and went straight to bed before you filled your dog bowl with food in case she was going to wake up and be hungry later.

Somewhere else in Jacksonville...

Jesse smirked; he couldn't help but tease you and you took the bait. So, you were single? Perfect, all the easier way to get his hands on you. He looked at the silver clock on the wall of his office. After so many weeks of stalking and getting all the little information about you, tomorrow night when you will get off your shift he will strike, plus tomorrow Asa will arrive in Jacksonville.

The bald man chuckled silently, remembering how Asa always asked him how his tracking on you went. Jesse knew Asa like no other and he knew that the nerdy collector got obsessed over the little things. Jesse couldn't blame Asa, you were a piece of candy for the eyes, and he almost forgot of how many men he had to put off the dating game that was trying to get to you.

Jesse twirled one of his twin knives, looking at his reflection on the blade, scowling as the disfigured image of his face was shown. The thought of your face full of disgust when you would see him made his insides turn, a bitter feeling setting into his throat, but he pulled that feeling aside. He had to focus on the job at hand; getting his hands on you.

Yes, tomorrow would be a perfect day.

The Next Day...

Work had gone just fine, no problems and you could eat lunch in peace; you had some pizza with extra cheese and your favorite dessert, strawberry cake. It seemed like a perfect day and you were looking forward to getting home and having a bubble bath, making pour a glass of wine. You smiled as you saw the clock 10:30 AM, meaning that in just half an hour you will get off work and could head home, so you began to clean up your desk of remaining files and empty plastic coffee cups; you hated to come back to work with a mess for a desk.

You cursed yourself for having your car break and had to walk. All you were glad was that it wasn't raining tonight and it was quite a warm night. After 15 minutes of walking, you passed an alleyway but stopped when you heard some crying; it sounded womanly and your heroic heart had to make you step into the shadows, a little reluctant.

"H-Hello? Is someone there?" you asked, the whining continues and you gulped down, your instinct telling you that something bad was going to happen and you needed to get the hell out of there.

Before you could listen to your gut, a hand wrapped around your throat, slamming your body into the brick wall, knocking the breath out of you. Whoever it was, was strong, because it knocked you as you were a ragdoll.

Your eyes opened and were meet with silver metal, probably chromed. A skull mask? He was tall, very tall, you reached just his chest. He was dressed in all black, your eyes a little blinded by the red light on his shoulder. A videocamera? His gloved hand on your neck tightened, making you gasp out, your hands grasping his arm.

"W-What? What do y-you want?" you managed to ask before you felt a sting on your neck, whatever he injected into you, making you feel dizzy and weak, until you blacked out, your body falling onto the cold ground.

After 30 minutes...

He couldn't believe how easy this was; it was like stealing candy from a kid. Jesse smirked as he was driving to one of the warehouses he owned for his 'little' hobby, your body knocked out in the backseat of his Chrysler. Nitrile covered hands gripped the steering wheel as he was thinking what he will do to you once he gets there. Oh, he hoped you would scream and cry, even beg; that would be cheery on top.

After getting on the outskirts of Jacksonville, he finally got to the building. Even if you could get away, the closet town was 30 miles away, plus it was night, and cars hardly passed by here; another reason for why this was one of his favorite places.

Parking the car and stopping the engine, he got out and moved to pick up your limp body, getting inside the warehouse where many coffins laid there, some having dead bodies of past piggies inside, some of them so badly disfigured you need the dental-prints to find out who they are.

He put you inside one of the coffins, shutting the lid and waiting for you to wake up. By the dose he injected into you, you should wake up at any moment. After 15 minutes of setting up his mini-camera, he heard a groan from the coffin, a smile pulling at his lips behind chromed skull-mask.

Jesse got the drill and walked to the coffin, making a small hole into it so he could record you. You whimpered as you saw the lens of the camera, feeling like you would suffocate. Memories of when you were trapped into the red trunk came back to you. Outside, Jesse smirked seeing your panicked face and wide eyes.

"L-Let me out!" you screamed, banging on the lid, tears running down your face. This was too good.

His gloved hands were running on the lid of the coffin, his breath picking up as he saw all your reactions, the fact that he could re-watch them again and again, so much sweeter.

He loved to see you trapped, but this wasn't exactly what he was looking for, although it was highly arousing, he wanted you to fight. Taking the camera off and setting it up onto his shoulder, he opened the coffin, taking some steps back, knives in each hand.

You got out from the coffin and looked around, your eyes looking on the shiny silver mask.

"W-What do you want?" you asked, eyes puffy from crying. He twirled the knives, practically mocking you.

Then you felt your gun on the utility belt, hand grasping it and pointing it at the tall man, your eyes now pulled into a glare. Jesse tilted his head to the side, then took a step forward and a loud bang was heard, your finger pulled the trigger and shot him three times. You weren't going to make the same mistake as you did back in Illinois.

The only problem was that the man was still on his feet, a little take back that you actually used the gun on him.

Jesse wasn't dumb, and he had under his clothes a bulletproof vest. He huffed, then before you knew it he threw one of the knives at you, the sharp blade piercing your shoulder, making you release your gun and fall down on the ground.

The hit wasn't fatal, but God, did it hurt like hell, your breathing increased and you gulped down, feeling the warm blood soak your shirt. Your eyes looked up as the masked man approached you, his hand grasping your pony-tail tightly, making you stand up.

Even trough the latex material Jesse could feel how soft your hair was, and he was so tempted to use that mouth of yours on something much better than screaming, but he was a patient man.

"S-Stop it! You piece of fuck!" you screamed, only for him to tug harder on your hair, making you swallow your words. Jesse's other hand that wasn't fisting your hair, pulled out a mobile phone, typing on it very fast, then showed you the screen.

'Quite the mouth on you, piggy. Don't make me use it for something else that cursing like a whore.'

Your eyes widened, then looked from the shiny screen to the chromed mask. You were turned around, your back towards him as you felt him take your handcuffs from your belt, and with precise moves, he locked your hands together behind your back, making you completely useless.

His foot kicked one of yours, making you fall down on your knees. You could taste the blood on your mouth, the knife still impaled into your shoulder, then you heard the double doors of the warehouse open and you prayed that someone came to save you.

That wasn't it. You almost wished you were dead when you saw the bulky form dressed in black entered the building, black-gloved hands on the knives at his belt, black foam mask covering his face, and the eyes that haunted your dreams for months. Obsidian eyes looked into your eyes, your mouth open in shock.

'Finally, you came. She put up a fight. Quite the feisty kitten here.' the robotic voice came from the phone, the message directed to The Collector.

The Collector rolled his eyes and began to walk towards you two.

"Traffic. So, you got her." he said, stopping in front of you, your still shocked face making him smile, a smile that made chills creep up your spine.

"Miss me?" he asked, voice deep and mocking you.

This has to be a nightmare. Sure, and you would wake up in your bed, with your poodle cuddled by your side. Yes, it had to be.

"N-No...T-This cannot b-be real." you said in a whisper, afraid if you spoke any louder, your tongue will be cut off.

"Not real? Does this feel real?" The Collector said, gripping the knife from your shoulder and twisting it a little, making you scream and shut your eyes, more tears falling down your cheeks.

'We are gonna have lots of fun, little piggy.' the robotic voice spoke, a dark chuckle coming from The Collector and you almost fainted when the skull masked man was running one hand down your hip.

This was only the beginning, little piggy...

To be continued...

#Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2 #Laid to rest 2009 #Chromeskull #Jesse Cromeans #chromeskull x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #The Collector 2009 #The Collection 2012 #the collector x reader #Asa Emory #Asa Emory x reader #jesse cromeans x reader x asa emory #the collector x reader x chromeskull #slasher x reader #horror movies

139 notes · View notes

homogrimoire · 4 years

Text

Is It Too Soon To Call It Love?

Fair Game Week 2020: Day 1 - Flirting / Semblance

Read it on AO3 here.

Qrow never was a morning person. However, because his line of work often demanded it, he would always wake up early. If there was certainly one good thing that came out of being sober, it was that mornings were easier to deal with. He never had to deal with some hangover, wonder where in the world he was, or have to meet up with a disappointed Ruby and Yang. That last bit was definitely the thing he was the most proud of. Getting to greet his nieces in the morning without them being disappointed or concerned was well worth dealing with the cruelties of reality. Another boon to sober mornings was being able to enjoy them with Clover. Every now and then, Clover would invite him to his place for breakfast. Today was one of those days that Qrow was invited over, so after showering and getting ready, he made his way over to Clover’s quarters. Such trips were becoming more and more frequent ever since they had gotten together. He had half a mind to just ask if he could move in.

Qrow had to admit that he didn’t expect to end up spending so much time with the man, considering how they first met and the fact that he was an Atlesian. Qrow and Atlesians mixed as well as water and oil. So far, the only exceptions to this were Weiss and Clover, and boy had Clover really surpassed his expectations. He was far from stuck up and knew how to let loose and have some fun. He was also empathetic and kind. He lacked that coldness and stubbornness that Atlesians tended to have. When he learned that Clover’s semblance was the opposite of his, Qrow was shocked at first, and a tad jealous, but as they talked more and more, it had one day clicked in Qrow’s mind that Clover wasn’t a man to be jealous of. Clover was a man he could talk to, and he would understand. Likewise, Qrow was a man he could talk to and understand. Prior to this, Qrow had shrugged off most of the man’s obvious flirting and attempts to get closer, but after was a different story.

Post-realization, Qrow had begun to flirt back, and open up to him more. In turn, Clover had begun to open up to Qrow too. He learned that Clover had gotten addicted to gambling at one point. He was young and dumb enough to think he was a casino king, and lucky and rich enough to hold onto that belief. While his semblance affects himself more than anyone, it still affected those around him, and one day, learned that fate had a different path for him to take. He lost all he had earned and was near dead broke with a broken spirit. Soon, with no other option available, he joined the military. During that time, he weaned himself off gambling, climbed out of the hole of depression and lack of self-worth he had found himself in, learned to control his semblance, and worked his way up the ranks to where he is now. This new knowledge made Qrow trust him and what he was telling Qrow. It made the lucky man’s words of encouragement endearing, in a sense.

“Say,” Qrow had asked him one night when they were playing cards and having dinner at Clover’s place, “doesn’t this remind you of gambling too much?” Clover pondered the question for a moment.

“No, not really. I only play for fun, never for money or some prize, though winning still feels pretty good.”

“Well you’d better watch out, I’m feeling lucky tonight.” Qrow put down a good hand, but Clover kept his usual smile on his face, revealing nothing.

“Oh, do you? I should watch out then. Who knows what kind of bad luck might come my way?” Clover shifted his eyes from his eyes away from his cards. His eyes met Qrow’s and they laughed. Clover had never really told Qrow how much the loneliness had gotten to him, but he always did tell Qrow how much he did appreciate Qrow spending time with him.

“You know, I considered that loss a time when my semblance failed me, but seeing where I am now, I think it was my good luck.” Clover had told him one night as they were playing cards.

“Yeah,” Qrow replied, “it did work out pretty good for you in the end. You’re the leader of the Ace Ops and all that. I mean, look where we’re playing cards.” Qrow motioned his hands around to show that he referred to Clover’s apartment. Technically, just a simple living space appropriate for the leader of the Ace Ops, if any officials were asked, but it was like a fancy penthouse through and through. The military certainly pulled no stops when providing for its higher ups, even going so far as to have it categorized as having a high medium priority for heating. The living room featured a wide window that took up most of the wall to show the shining city below, as well as a large flat screen TV. Nearby was an open kitchen area with spotless chrome appliances and a granite island to eat at. It was all a good size, but much too big for a single person. It had always felt too empty to Clover, save for the rare, emphasis on rare, occasion that a guest was over. Though Qrow had recently been showing up more and more, which was a very welcome change.

“It is a good view, but I’d say the view right in front of me is even better.” Clover kept eye contact with Qrow the entire time. Qrow, eager to outflirt him, was about to flirt back, but was stopped by the sound of a hand of cards landing on the table. He looked down to see a winning hand, of course. Defeated once more, Qrow threw down his hand with a sigh.

“You’re lucky I like spending time with you enough to play cards with you.” Clover reshuffled the cards as Qrow laughed. Clover especially likes hearing Qrow laugh like that. As they got closer and learned more about each other, luck began to become a common theme among their jokes with each other. Clover had joked about it before with others, but joking about luck with Qrow was different. He understood.

“You sure its not because of my good looks?” He winked at Qrow once he saw that Qrow was looking at him.

“It … could be a factor.” Qrow leaned back with a smile on his face as Clover dealt the cards.

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself, Mr. Branwen.” Qrow had to admit, flirting was also a lot more fun when sober, though it could also just be that he was closer to Clover than he was with the previous people he flirted with. Regardless, it felt nice to know that there wasn’t any drunkenness talking between anyone. Then, Qrow had an idea. It could be risky, but he had a feeling things would go his way.

“Hey, I know you’re not a gambling man, but how about a little wager. Winner of the next round gets to ask the loser for something.” As Clover slid Qrow’s cards to him, he felt Qrow’s hand glance over his own hand, their fingers just barely touching. He saw Qrow wink back at him. If this wasn’t a sign, then he didn’t know what was.

“I suppose I can make an exception, after all, it’s hard to say no to such a pretty face.” It turned out to be one of their more intense games, but ultimately, Clover had lost. He looked up to meet a smiling Qrow, though Clover did not feel bad for losing in the slightest, especially when he got to see Qrow smile like that. “Looks like some kind of bad luck did come my way. Turns out it was the handsome kind.” He could tell Qrow was staring at his lips, so he moved so he could lean more towards Qrow. “So, what do you want, my handsome bad luck charm?”

“I think you know what I want.” Qrow asked, his voice deepening a little. Clover knew that he could definitely get used to that. He closed his eyes as he moved even closer to Qrow, and he soon felt Qrow’s lips on his. Clover moaned as heat spread through his body when Qrow began to kiss him even more deeply as they shifted to lay on the couch. It was even better than he imagined. The feeling of Qrow’s body on top of him combined with the passionate making out was indescribable, and unlike anything he had felt before. Meanwhile, Qrow was having the time of his life. Their kiss was long overdue, especially for the amount of flirting they did. Having Clover beneath him made every detail of his muscular body feel even more defined. Qrow definitely made sure to feel up Clover’s arms and memorize every inch of them, cause they were a sight to behold and he wanted to remember them in as many ways as he could. Qrow soon felt himself getting hot as well. As much as they would have liked to continue for longer they soon had to stop. It was getting late and they had work to do tomorrow.

“You’re welcome to stay the night, if you like. We don’t have to do anything more if you don’t want to.”

“It’s too late to do anything more, but I probably should get going.” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot my scroll and the kids are probably worried, especially Ruby.” Clover laughed a little. “What’s so funny, Lucky Charm?” Qrow said, pretending to be offended

“Nothing, it’s just adorable how much you care about them. It shows how much of a good person you are.”

“I would say flattery is gonna get you nowhere, but it obviously has.”

“Looks like I’ll have to keep on flattering you then, won’t I?”

“I don’t know, you shouldn’t push your luck.” They both laughed again. “Well the, good night Clover.”

“Good night Qrow.“ Clover replied as he closed the door behind Crow. Once he closed it, he could not help but feel lonely once again. He was tired, so he just went right to his bed. As he lay there, he thought about Qrow and how he really did like him. He thinks it’s too soon to call it love, but he can’t help but call what he feels for Qrow love. Normally, he falls asleep quickly, but thinking about Qrow and the feeling of a sad loneliness kept him up. About ten minutes after Qrow had left, he heard a knock on his door. He found it odd, but still went to see who was there regardless. He opened the door to find Qrow staring at him. A smile returned to his face.

“Looks like some more bad luck came my way. I mean, imagine all the grimm that will unfortunately die because we got a good night’s sleep together.”

”That is unfortunate, but I’m thinking about how lucky I am to get to be next to you.” They both chuckled.

“Come on, I’ll show you to the bed.“

“I hope your bed is big enough to fit both of us.”

“It’s actually kinda small. I think we’ll have to stay close to each other if we want to fit.”

“Lucky us, huh?” Qrow laughed and showed off his usual smirk. Clover had thought it was too soon to call it love. He realized he was wrong. It was definitely not too soon to call it love.

#Fair Game #Qrow Branwen #Clover Ebi #fairgameweek2020 #rwby

103 notes · View notes

alison-anonymous · 5 years

Text

♡ visitation rights ♡ hades

Visitation Rights ♡ Hades Imagine

Requested: yes, by another one of my loving friends/fans @alvarezsamy1106! I loved your idea, thank you so much for requesting!

Warnings: none :D

♡♡♡

Being the Queen of the new kingdom that had been created on the legendary island Avalon was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because you loved the people you ruled as a single Queen, but a curse because of how lonely it was. Avalon was where King Arthur had found his Excalibur, but after the sword was removed, all was forgotten until a prophecy told that you would become the new Queen of Avalon. Things were going incredible, the kingdom was flourishing with people and with food and enlightenment. But, life was lonely with no visitors except for the people from Camelot, and your love life had kind of been tossed out of the picture since you were Queen.

So the day when you received a letter from the new Queen Mal and King Ben of Auradon requesting to come and visit your kingdom to establish a new neighboring kingdom for friendship, you were more than happy to say yes.

♡♡♡

“I haven’t been this excited since our wedding day,” Mal gushed to Ben, green eyes sparkling. He smiled lovingly at her from across their room as she placed more dresses into her suitcase. “According to Queen Y/n, Avalon hasn’t had any visitors since King Arthur! It must be lonely.”

Ben opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by someone barging through the door. “Am I invited on this little expedition?”

Hades grinned, his blue hair blazing as he casually leaned against the doorframe. “Don’t get me wrong, I love life on the mainland,” he batted his eyelashes, causing Mal to roll her eyes with a smirk. “Come on, Malie, you know you want to bring your dad with you.”

Ben winced at the idea. “We would love to, but...” If looks could kill, the one Hades shot at Ben would have struck him dead long ago. Ben’s eyes widened in fear and he instantly clamped his mouth shut. Mal giggled, and plopped another dress into the suitcase.

“I have to agree with Ben on this one. We just got our visitation rights back after last time we took you somewhere,” she crossed her arms on her chest.

“That guard had it coming,” Hades snapped defensively. “He kept insulting my hair.”

“Still,” Mal argued. “While it may have made sense to you, other kingdom’s don’t exactly see things your way. They find us unpredictable,” she scoffed.

“Alright, fine,” Hades put his hands up, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Bring me along this one time and I promise I will behave.”

Mal and Ben glanced at one another, and she offered him a suggestive smile, causing him to sigh in defeat. “Alright,” he started, but then stopped. A look of concern crossed his features. “What is your definition of behaving?”

Hades only smirked in response.

♡♡♡

“Everything is ready for their visit, your majesty,” your right hand servant, Nabi, smiled, scribbling away on the clipboard she held in her hands.

“Thank you, Nabi, and just Y/n is fine,” you replied, allowing your modesty to shine through. Excitement coursed through your veins so intensely that your hands were shaking as you straightened out your crown, seeing three people step off of the boat that had just been docked. Townspeople began to gather around excitedly to greet the new people in their kingdom. Even Nabi seemed excited as she chewed on her pencil. Your kingdom was a bit different than you knew Auradon was, what with the jungle-themed castles and buildings and the exotic fruits. You just hoped it wasn’t too different to scare them away.

You plastered on a magnificent smile as a gorgeous girl with beautiful purple hair and a charming boy with arm hooked around her waist approached you with awe in their eyes. They quickly curtseyed and bowed, and you did the same.

“You must be Queen Y/n,” the purple haired Queen smiled. “I’m Mal, and this is Ben. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Your kingdom is beautiful,” Ben gushed, smiling as one of your favorite Avalonians placed a beautiful flower crown onto their heads.

“The pleasure is all mine,” you smiled back. “Our kingdom could use the friendships.”

Mal grinned at you, her striking emerald eyes glittering with emotion as she opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a crowd of your Avalonians gushing over someone.

“Is his hair on fire? It’s extraordinary!”

“Do you see his outfit? Oh my gods!”

“I would kill to have eyeliner like that!”

“You know I can hear you all, right?” A voice you didn’t recognize asked. You gave Ben and Mal a confused look and they attempted to avoid your gaze in embarrassed glances. “Yeah, that might be my father,” Mal explained. “Hades.”

You nodded slightly, mouth parted in interest. At the sound of his name, the man pushed his way through the throng of people who were gushing over him and made his way over to you. The second you laid eyes on him, you instantly froze and your heart forgot how to beat for a second. He was a good three inches taller than you, with law-defying burning blue hair and piercing blue eyes surrounded by... was that eyeliner? He had that look on his face that only a villain would have, but something about him intrigued you.

To make things even better, he froze mid-step the second you came into his line of vision. You had sparkling e/c eyes, silky h/l h/c hair, and an aura to you that was more mysterious than it should have been.

Mal and Ben looked between the two of you in confusion at the silence and extreme eye contact being engaged before them. Once the gear finally clicked into place in Mal’s mind, a smirk fell onto her lips. Maybe they’d be staying a little longer than they had planned.

“Holy shit,” Hades suddenly blurted. The sound of his voice broke you out of the trance he had placed you under, and you absentmindedly ran a hand through your hair.

“H-Hello,” you stuttered. Mal elbowed Ben in the side and whispered something in his ear. A look of realization coated his face.

Hades, having a delayed reaction, fell out of his trance too and cleared his throat. “Hey there, gorgeous.” He was back. A blush spread across your cheeks and nose as you bashfully looked down at the floor. Even Nabi had a smirk on her lips as she gently nudged you back into place.

“Welcome to Avalon,” you grinned at the three. “I see you’ve already been acquainted with some of my people. We are all very happy for you to be here,” you motioned for them to start walking with you as you began to lead them back to the castle. The crowd slowly began to disperse as well, giggling and whispering to one another about the beautiful Auradon royalty that they had on their island. “We haven’t had any visitors from other kingdoms except Camelot, so this is a first for us.”

“How’s King Arthur doing, by the way?” Ben asked. You smiled.

“He’s doing surprisingly well.”

“Wait, wait, wait-” Hades held up a hand as he stepped into pace with you. “You mean that you haven’t had any visitors, it’s just been you all this time?”

You nodded. “I love my people, but Avalon is such a new kingdom that not many people have heard of it.”

“Well, it’s beautiful,” Mal gently rested her hand on your arm, sending you a smile. “We are very honored to be the first visitors.”

The four of you began to hit if off quite nicely as conversation flowed between you all. Mal and Ben asked questions about your kingdom and your people, and in return you asked some questions about theirs. Hades also threw in some intimate comments here and there and once you reached the throne room, Ben asked you the question you had hoped to avoid.

“So where’s the King of Avalon?”

You lowered your gaze to the ground, feeling the heavy weight of years of loneliness heap into effect. Mal already knew the answer just from the look on your face, and her eyes softened.

“There... isn’t one.”

“So you mean to tell us that you’ve been ruling this entire kingdom and all of the people in it with no King?”

“That is correct.”

He sent you a look that you didn’t quite recognize. It must have been pretty bad because Mal sent him a warning look next to you. You can imagine your surprise when the words that came out his mouth were definitely not what you expected, but struck a feeling into the pit of your chest that you had never felt before.

“Is there an opening for that position?”

Maybe you didn’t have to rule alone after all.

♡ a.a.

#descendants hades x reader #descendants x reader #descendants #descendants 3 #hades x reader #descendants hades #hades

224 notes · View notes

zen3to5 · 4 years

Text

J/H 6-01: The Kids Are Alright

Welcome, everyone, to Zenmasters: Seasons 3 to 5+!

I was pretty set on keeping this rewrite project limited to the titular seasons when I started. The only exception, I thought, would be to possibly do a rewrite of the series finale, working on the premise that Season 7 would be the last.

Then I rewatched Season 6 - which, if you’ll recall, didn’t go down so well. So I've decided not only to do a new series finale, but to make some more adjustments along the way there. In doing so, I've set myself the following hard limits:

1. I'm only rewriting what I find to be the rough patches in Jackie and Hyde's material (otherwise, I'd be overhauling virtually every single script of this season, and no way am I going down that road.) Since I think their relationship is generally well-handled in Season 6, that means we're only looking at two areas: their make-up at the beginning of the season (which I think was sloppy) and the Pam Burkhart arc (which has virtually no Zen, when it really should have.) Adding Zen, and still acting on the premise that these could be feasible scripts for the show, there will naturally be other adjustments, but those were only made on the basis that they had to be to make room for J/H material in these 22-minute episodes.

2. I have to be able to use something from the 3 to 5 rewrites, even if it's only a single line, as a basis for adding Zen to a given episode or run of episodes.

With that out of the way - let's get started!

(And, as with 5-01, I couldn't resist imagining a new credits sequence.)

FF.Net AO3

***

We open on a unique title card, patterned after the logo from THE GODFATHER. “The Godfather Theme” by Nino Rota plays as we cut to: INT. FORMAN BEDROOM - DAY DREAM SEQUENCE. The Forman master bedroom, converted to an at-home hospital bed. RED, as Don Corleone, lies in bed, propped up on pillows. Surrounding him are BOB as Tom Hagen, KELSO as Fredo, and HYDE as Sonny. Hyde has SCHATZI in his arms. Everyone is grim-faced and the room is dark, even in the day – very Coppola. BOB: Don Forman, it is an honor and privilege to receive you in your home in the wake of the heart attack caused by your daughter’s wedding. Red rolls his eyes, unnoticed by Bob. BOB (cont’d): While you’ve been away, they locked up that Son of Sam, Al Unser took the Indy 500, and that new movie Grease is such a hoot, boy. RED: What about the Family? BOB: Well, that little dame with the mouth has been hiding down at the pool all summer, on account of these two still being after her. He points to Kelso and Hyde, who shift on their feet. HYDE: Yeah, but that’s over now. We’re sending Kelso out west to learn the nutcracker business. KELSO: Nutcracker business? Why would I - Hyde kicks him in the groin, sending him to the floor. HYDE: (laughing) Loser. He sets Schatzi on the bed and crosses to the bedroom door. As soon as he opens it, machine gunfire rips open. Hyde stumbles back into the room, being thrown about by the many bloodless squibs going off, until he falls down on top of Kelso. Bob and Red briefly glance at the bodies, then return to their conversation. BOB: And your wife, she’s working double shifts again, on account of you not being able to manage the business. KITTY, as Mama Corleone in a nurse’s hat, bursts into the room, with a laundry basket under one arm and a pot of soup under the other. She hurries over to Red, kisses him on the forehead, glances down at Hyde and Kelso, looks up to God, and runs out of the room with tears in her eyes, all while spewing a non-stop torrent of obviously fake Italian. RED: What about my son, Bob? Where’s Eric? Bob shifts on his feet, looks away. We cut to: EXT. ITALIAN VILLA – DAY A picturesque little village in the Sicilian countryside, a lovely image to have on a cheesy backdrop hanging behind the cast. ERIC, as Michael Corleone in his military uniform, and DONNA as Kay stand in the middle of the street, arms around each other’s waists. “Godfather Love Theme” by Nino Rota plays in the background. DONNA: Eric, are you sure we should be going off to college and seeing the world when your father’s heart attack and our friends’ stupidity leaves the Family vulnerable? ERIC: That’s my family, Donna. That’s not me. I’m going my own way. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? CUT TO: EXT. CITY STREET – DAY The best New York backlot set available. Old roadsters line the street, steam comes up from the manholes, everyone goes about in hats and coats, and a fruit stand with plenty of oranges is set up on the corner. Red and Bob are at the stand, selecting oranges while Kelso waits for them by a black 1941 Ford. Shot-for-shot, the shooting of Don Corleone. A gunman steps out from behind a truck. Red notices their approach. He bolts for the car, knocking over the stand and sending oranges spilling into the street, but it’s too late. FEZ, as Sollozzo, sprays him with fire from his handgun. Slumped down against the car, Red turns around and looks up at Fez. RED: So... it was the foreigner all along. FEZ: Seriously? Have you looked around at this dream? You’re Italian, I’m Italian - we’re all foreigners, you cranky bastard! He fires off one more shot, and Red falls to the ground, dead. CUT TO: SPINNING NEWSPAPER. Headline: FORMAN SLAIN. CUT TO: EXT. ITALIAN VILLA - DAY Eric, clutching at the newspaper, with Donna reading over his shoulder. Eric crushes the paper in one hand, bites the knuckles of the other. ERIC: Oh, Pop. If only I had set aside all my own personal hopes and dreams for my life and stayed at home. If only I hadn’t gone against the Family. He throws his head to the sky in true melodramatic fashion as we crane up. ERIC: Why? Why? WHY? CUT TO: INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – DAY Late morning. The window curtains are drawn, letting in the sunlight, and Jackie’s cot is empty. Eric and Donna are snuggled together in Donna’s bed, still asleep. Eric stirs, jolts straight up. He takes in where he is, lets out a long sigh. Donna, still groggy from sleep, sits up and puts a hand on his shoulder. DONNA: Eric, is everything all right? ERIC: (beat) Yeah. Eric pats her hand and slides out of bed. He starts to get dressed. ERIC (cont’d): I gotta go. My folks come home from the hospital today. Hyde and I are picking them up. Donna’s closet opens. Out steps Fez, all smiles. FEZ: Mr. Red is coming home? Eric jumps and Donna pulls the covers up to her chin. ERIC: Fez? DONNA: Oh, my God! Did you see anything? FEZ: Not much. You should really think about a night light. Donna and Eric both take pillows from the bed and chuck them at Fez, who retreats back into the closet.

MAIN TITLES INT. VISTA CRUISER – NIGHT A) The gang out on the road. Eric drives, with Donna next to him and Hyde in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Jackie, then Fez, then Kelso. THEME SONG: Hangin’ out... B) Hyde drives, with Eric in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Donna, and behind Hyde sits Jackie. The girls are leaning forward in their seats, their arms wrapped around the boys’ shoulders. THEME SONG: Down the street... C) Kelso drives, with Fez next to him and Hyde in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits a scowling Red, then Eric, then Bob. THEME SONG: The same old thing... D) Red drives, with Kitty in the passenger’s seat, holding Schatzi. Bob sits in the middle of the back seat, hands behind his head. THEME SONG: We did last week... E) Fez drives, with Donna next to him and Kelso in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Eric, then Hyde, then Jackie. Donna leans into Fez as the gang sing along. THEME SONG: Not a thing to do... F) Jackie drives, with Donna next to her and Kitty in the passenger’s seat. THEME SONG: But talk to you... G) Hyde drives, with Eric in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Donna, and behind Hyde sits Jackie. The girls are leaning forward in their seats, their arms wrapped around the boys’ shoulders. THEME SONG: We’re all alright! H) Eric drives, with Donna next to him and Hyde in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Jackie, then Fez, then Kelso. THEME SONG: We’re all alright! I) The creators’ license plate, a 1978 sticker in the corner. HYDE (v.o.): Hello, Wisconsin! BUMPER INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY Shortly after the pre-credits scene. Hyde sits at the kitchen table, a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. He has Schatzi in his arms, cuddled close to his face. He picks up a piece of bacon and holds it up for Schatzi to eat. Eric, Donna (dressed in a bathing suit and dress) and Fez enter through the patio door. They freeze when they see Hyde, and he freezes when he sees them, causing Schatzi to strain to reach the bacon. Though all three struggle not to laugh, Donna finds her voice first: DONNA: (to Hyde) Are you feeding and cuddling with a wiener dog? HYDE: Are you planning to wear a bathing suit to a hospital visit? ERIC: (to Donna) Oh, please do. FEZ: Yes, please. Donna shakes her head and rolls her eyes. DONNA: I’m going to the pool with Jackie. HYDE: She choose between me and Kelso yet? DONNA: I don’t know. But Kelso’s been going down there to show off for her. He’s got a speedo with the Point Place Police Department badge printed on the ass. It’s really disturbing. Hyde pushes himself to his feet, Schatzi still in his arms. HYDE: Whatever, man. She thinks I’m gonna wait around all summer ‘cause she can’t choose between me and a guy who once forgot he was allergic to eggs? His head swelled up to five times its normal size. Screw that, man. I’m over her. Schatzi chooses this time to lick the corner of Hyde’s mouth. Eric chuckles, crosses to Hyde and puts a hand on his shoulder. ERIC: Hyde, the other day I was down in the basement and went to put on Zeppelin, and I found country music records hidden in the sleeve to Physical Graffiti. You’re not over her. Fez smirks, crosses to them. FEZ: (to Hyde) So, you console your loneliness with doggie kisses and country songs, while I am married to Eric’s slutty sister. HYDE: Yeah, how’s that going? FEZ: Oh, not great. But I’m pretty sure when she gets back from our honeymoon in Cancun, things will pick up. ERIC: Laurie went on your honeymoon alone? FEZ: Oh, no, that would be crazy. She took her friend Carlos along to keep an eye on her. But I paid for both of them, so everyone know who the man is in this deal. Eric, Donna, and Hyde all share a look. ERIC: (to Hyde) All right, let’s get going. (to Fez) You stay here. My dad doesn’t want you anywhere near the hospital. FEZ: Why not? I’m family. I want to support my new American dad after his heart attack. ERIC: Fez, you’re the one who gave him the heart attack. HYDE: By marrying his daughter, who’s on your honeymoon with another guy. FEZ: Oh, no, no, no. Carlos is just like, um... he’s kind of like a – a chaperone. He, uh... (beat) Son of a bitch! He stomps his foot and pouts, even as Hyde presses Schatzi into his arms. Eric, Hyde, and Donna file out the door. BUMPER INT. HOSPITAL - DAY A reception desk at the hospital. A DOCTOR leads Eric, Red, Kitty, and Hyde up the hallway. Red is in decent shape and rotten mood; same as always, really. RED: Come on, Kitty. Let’s get the hell out of this weird place. I think some of these nurses are stealing drugs. The doctor gives Kitty a look. KITTY: Red, I am a nurse here. (laughs) RED: I stand by my statement. DOCTOR: Okay, Mr. Forman, just to be clear: no going to work, no chores, no driving for three months. And let’s not forget the root cause of the problem. ERIC: Too much rage, right? Yeah, so he probably shouldn’t, like, yell at anyone anymore, right? DOCTOR: Actually, the reason he ran into trouble is he was holding stuff in. ERIC: (beat) He was holding stuff in? Okay, I weigh 42 pounds ‘cause of what he let out and – I’m sorry – you’re telling me that, uh, there’s more in there? Kitty hurries between her husband and son and takes both their arms. KITTY: (to doctor) No, no, no. He does not weigh 42 pounds. And these two are the best of buddies! (doing Eric) “Hey, Dad, wanna go fishing?” (doing Red) “Sure, son. Let’s hug.” (normal voice) That’s what it’s like at our house! (laughs) RED: (to doctor) See what I mean about the drugs? DOCTOR: (to Red) What you need to do is focus on things that make you happy. ERIC: Okay, but I don’t know where we’re gonna find a boatload of dead commies. HYDE: (points to Eric, himself) Yeah, but there’s two asses he loves sticking his foot up right here. Eric nods. Red gives him and Hyde an appraising look as Kitty shakes her head. CUT TO: EXT. POOL - DAY The Point Place public pool, a small and tidy swimming hole surrounded by a chain-link fence. Donna and JACKIE, in a tiny bikini and skirt, sip sodas at a small cable in the corner. DONNA: Jackie, the summer’s almost over and you haven’t decided between Kelso and Hyde yet. JACKIE: Why should I rush for them? The sun is out, the air is warm, I’m almost at my most delicious shade of cocoa brown – let that two-timing moron and paranoid hophead wait it out a little longer. DONNA: Well, Hyde might be done waiting, so you may not have a choice anymore. Jackie takes her sunglasses off and leans in toward Donna. JACKIE: What do you mean? Before Donna can answer, a shadow blocks their sun. It’s Kelso, fresh from the pool, dripping wet in his PPPD speedo. KELSO: Ladies. Ladies’ bodies. (to Jackie) So, Jackie, what do you think? He flexes, pushes up his shoulders. KELSO (cont’d): Yep. Police Academy starts in a week. All this swimming’s getting me into shape. DONNA: Wouldn’t getting into shape for the police academy mean eating donuts and growing a bad moustache? KELSO: Oh, I’m growing the bad moustache. Jackie rolls her eyes, looks around Kelso to Donna. JACKIE: So is Mr. Forman home yet? DONNA: Eric’s picking him up now. I don’t know what they’re gonna do once we’re in Madison. Kitty and Hyde are both working double shifts, but that still doesn’t cover the lost income from Red not working. JACKIE: Yeah... and what about medical bills? Price Mart offers terrible coverage, and you can forget about any help from the government now that health reform’s stalled. DONNA: I know, right? KELSO: Wait, hold up. (to Donna) You said a bunch of sad stuff... (to Jackie) You followed up with some money and health fact stuff... (to Donna) And you said “I know,” which makes me think Jackie used that right, which makes me think she knew what she was talking about. DONNA: Very good, Kelso. That’s what we call a “conversation.” KELSO: Well, I know some facts too. Jimmy Carter? He had a peanut farm. And the Dairy Queen down the street is selling half-off peanut buster parfaits today. Now, excuse me as I walk down there to get one – without pants. He turns his ass Jackie’s way before strolling off. The girls shake their heads. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY Welcome home, Red! The family file in through the patio door. Kitty keeps her arms ready to support Red, who looks done with this day already. KITTY: (to Red) Now, let’s get you upstairs for your nap. (to Eric, Hyde) And boys, he needs quiet, so no shenanigans. ERIC: Mom, please, we haven’t shenaniganed in about six years. HYDE: We’ve hooliganed. ERIC: We’ve no-goodniked. HYDE: We’ve ne’er done well. ERIC: And just last week, we found ourselves rabble-rousing. RED: Will you shut up? Eric and Hyde, both laughing, step aside so that Red can go through the door to the living room... INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – DAY And find Fez standing in front of his chair with a balloon and flowers. FEZ: Welcome home, Dad! RED: You. You’ve got a lot of nerve, showing your face around here after what you did to my daughter! He slowly advances on Fez, who somehow just doesn’t get the danger he’s in. FEZ: Hey, I did you a favor. That girl’s been passed around this town - KITTY/ERIC/HYDE: NO! Eric and Hyde pull Red back as Kitty rushes over to Fez and takes him by the shoulders. KITTY: Okay. You’ve already given him one heart attack. That’s enough. Now hush. She gently pushes a pouting Fez down to the couch. Eric crosses to the coffee table and grabs a small bowl full of candy. ERIC: (to Fez) Hey, look, buddy – raisinets! Instantly happy once more, Fez takes the candy and chows down. Kitty hurries back over to Red and leads him to the stairs. KITTY: (to Red) Okay, okay. Naptime. She sees him halfway up the staircase, then lets him go the rest of the way on his own as she leans over the railing. KITTY (cont’d): Oh, and Steven, he has a check-up next week during my shift, so I need you to take him. HYDE: Mrs. Forman, I told you, I’m working then. KITTY: Oh, that’s right. Eric, could you - ERIC: No, Mom. I’m not gonna be here, remember? I’m moving away. KITTY: (beat) Oh, so you’re still going? ERIC: Yes, I’m still going. It’s college. I have to register for classes. KITTY: Fine. ERIC: Mom, I gotta get out of here. KITTY: (short) Fine! ERIC: Great. KITTY: Great! ERIC: Fine! Kitty turns away and heads up the stairs. Eric scoffs, points after her and looks to Hyde, “can you believe that?” Hyde offers a shrug, “what can you do?” The front door opens. In walks LAURIE, suitcase in hand. She sets it down by the couch and crosses to the boys. LAURIE: (to Eric) Hey, little brother. (to Hyde) Hey, orphan. (to Fez) Hey, hubby. Fez stands. FEZ: Don’t “hubby” me! I’m mad at you. LAURIE: Aww. But I brought you a souvenir. She pulls a crystal shot glass from her purse and presents it to Fez. ERIC: Oh, look, Fez, a genuine Cancun shot glass still sticky with tequila. FEZ: (to Laurie) Aww, you shouldn’t have. LAURIE: No biggie. Some guy left it in my room. She struts her way into the kitchen. CUT TO: INT. HUB - EVENING A modest evening. “You Don’t Own Me” by Lesley Gore plays on the jukebox. At a center table, Jackie sits alone, reading a newspaper. Kelso, in a leather jacket and a PPPD T-shirt, enters, struts over to her table and leans on the back of an empty chair. Jackie barely glances over her paper to look at him, which Kelso takes for her checking him out. KELSO: Yep. Just picked up the shirt today. It’s a tight fit, so it really shows off all that swimming I’ve been doing. He makes a show of sliding his jacket off and showing his arms before sitting down. Only then does he notice what Jackie’s up to. KELSO (cont’d): Are you reading a newspaper? JACKIE: Yeah. KELSO: Are you reading the news part of a newspaper? Jackie raises her eyebrows at him. JACKIE: That is where the news is, Michael. KELSO: Yeah, but since when do you read it? JACKIE: Since I decided to keep up with interesting things going on in the world. She disappears back behind her paper. Kelso’s eyes dart back and forth; he’s not used to this from Jackie. He snatches one of the other sections from the table and struggles to get it open and propped up before him in imitation of her. KELSO: Well, here’s something interesting – Snoopy is playing in a tennis tournament. Jackie lets out a long breath, refusing to meet Kelso’s stare and smirk. FADE TO BLACK COMMERCIAL BUMPER INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY The next morning. Kitty is at the stovetop in her somewhat untidy nurse’s uniform, hastily putting together breakfast plates – one with eggs and bacon, one with eggs and pancakes, and one with egg whites and lean ham. Hyde enters through the patio door in his half-open chef’s jacket, a small pharmacy bag in hand. He drops more than sets it on the counter. HYDE: Here’s Red’s heart medication, Mrs. Forman. He lets out a big yawn. Kitty presses a cup of coffee into his hands. He nods in appreciation, takes out a wad of bills from his pants pocket, and throws it on the stovetop. Kitty takes it and pockets it. KITTY: Thank you, honey. And I’ll get this money put into your savings account on my way home. HYDE: Mrs. Forman, I’ve told you I don’t need a savings account. Just pay a bill. Of course, this is the moment when Eric walks in from the living room. ERIC: “Pay a bill?” (to Kitty) Mom, what does he mean? Is money that tight? KITTY: It’s nothing. ERIC: No, ‘cause... I mean, Donna and I are both working, so if you need to take a little out of my college fund - KITTY: Listen, both of you – the money in those accounts is for you. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine. She takes the pancake plate and passes it to Eric. KITTY (cont’d): You just eat your breakfast. Eric examines his plate. ERIC: Chocolate-chip caramel whipped cream pancakes? Mom, you’re not gonna bribe me into staying home from school with super sweet breakfast food. (checks the plate) And where are the sprinkles? KITTY: No, no, the pancakes are an apology. I overreacted before. Of course, you have to go to school. ERIC: So... that’s it? No guilt? KITTY: That’s right. Now, I’m late for work. (to Hyde) I’ll pick up the dry cleaning and drop off the packages at the post office. You make sure Red eats his breakfast, and only his breakfast – egg whites and heart-healthy ham. Oh, and remember you promised to give Schatzi his bath. She pats Hyde’s cheek and hurries out the door. Hyde looks down at the plate meant for Red, pointedly avoiding Eric’s smirk. ERIC: Now you’re bathing our wiener dog? HYDE: (beat) He keeps coming down to the basement. His fur-stink’s become incriminating evidence. Red enters from the living room. Eric crosses to the kitchen table as Hyde presses Red’s breakfast into his hands. HYDE (cont’d): Here you go, Red. Red looks down at his meal. RED: Where’s the yellow part of these eggs? That’s the baby bird. That’s the part I want to eat. Hyde crosses his arms and shakes his head, while Eric chuckles and digs into his breakfast. CUT TO: INT. HUB – DAY On a slow afternoon, Donna and Jackie enjoy lunch at a center table. DONNA: Wow, Jackie. You’ve really been showing Kelso the cold shoulder. JACKIE: Well, he deserves it. I told him I needed the summer to think things over, and he’s been after me the whole time. DONNA: I guess that means you choose Hyde. JACKIE: No! I told him I needed the summer to think things over, and he hasn’t spoken to me that whole time! I am so over them both. Kelso enters, still in his police shirt and jacket. He strolls over to the girls’ table, grabs at the badge logo printed on his shirt, and stretches it out as if it were a real badge. KELSO: Ladies. You have the right to remain foxy. Donna shakes her head. Jackie rolls her eyes, stands, and pushes past Kelso on her way out the door. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT That night. Donna and Eric sit close on the couch, going through college materials. ERIC: Oh, my God, Donna. Madison has a course called “The Social Significance of Jedi Culture.” He makes a show of gaping in delight as Donna rolls her eyes. Kitty, still in nurse’s uniform, comes down the stairs with an entry laundry basket. She crosses to the dryer and begins unloading it. ERIC (cont’d): Mom, why are you doing laundry? It’s almost midnight. KITTY: Well, with the double shift, this is the only time I have to do it. Eric sighs. He sets down the brochure and stands. ERIC: Okay, don’t do this. KITTY: Do what? ERIC: Come down here in the middle of the night, doing laundry, looking like hell - KITTY: Oh, excuse me! ERIC: No, I – I’m just saying, you’re trying to make me feel guilty for not leaving, and it’s not gonna work. I can’t stay here, okay? I have to go off and live my life. I deserve that! Mom, I deserve a chance! KITTY: Okay, okay. No need to use your squeaky voice. I understand that you have to leave. I have bigger things to worry about than making you feel guilty. She gathers up the laundry and heads back up the stairs. Donna looks up at Eric, who looks after his mom. DONNA: Eric, if you feel like you need to stay... I mean, we can talk about - ERIC: No! No. He sits back down. ERIC (cont’d): We’re leaving next week and that’s final. DONNA: Okay. They no sooner turn back to the brochure than the basement door opens and Red steps in, wearing pajamas and bathrobe. He has a plate in his hands, with toast that he dips into very runny egg yolks. RED: (to Eric) Yeah. It’s egg yolks. And I don’t care if you tell your mother. She doesn’t scare me. KITTY (v.o.): Eric, I almost forgot... Red tosses the toast aside, drops the plate, and high tails it back up the outside stairwell. CUT TO: INT. HALLWAY – DAY The next day. The upstairs hall of the Pinciotti house. Kelso strolls up to Donna and Jackie’s bedroom door. He’s about to knock when he notices the sounds coming from inside – “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You” by Led Zeppelin, and sniffling. Quietly, he opens the door, and we cut to: INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM - DAY Kelso finds Jackie curled up on the end of her cot. Her arms and legs are wrapped around a pillow stuffed inside a black Led Zeppelin T-shirt, and a tissue is in her hands. Tears are in her eyes. Kelso slowly crosses over to Donna’s bed. He points to the record player. KELSO: That’s Zeppelin. (points to pillow) That’s a Zeppelin shirt. That’s Hyde’s Zeppelin shirt, his favorite one. I know ‘cause one time I tried to use it to clean out a paintbrush. He kicked my ass, stole my shirt, and made me use it instead. A fresh sob wells up from Jackie’s throat. She turns around so her back is to Kelso. KELSO (cont’d): You still love him, don’t you? There was never really a choice, was there? JACKIE: What do you want, Michael? KELSO: (beat) Nothing. Look, Jackie... (sits) I know I’ve been with a lot of girls, but you’re the only real serious girlfriend I’ve ever had, and you’ll always be special to me. When I found out you and Hyde were together, I couldn’t believe I’d really lost you for good. And all I could think about was getting you back. But seeing you this summer... I mean, after being with Hyde, and then on your own, you’ve changed. You’re more thoughtful, more well-read – I think you’ve become a complicated woman. And I don’t want none of that. Jackie turns around just enough to glare at Kelso. KELSO (cont’d): But I think Hyde still does. And you obviously want him. And you should, because you two were good for each other. Not like us. So... so you don’t have to worry about me chasing you anymore. Jackie turns all the way around. JACKIE: Michael, do you mean that? KELSO: Yeah. I release you. He holds his hands out in front of him and mimes a bird’s wings flapping. KELSO (cont’d): Fly, little bird. Fly, fly away! He spreads his hands out, looks up, and makes a noise that sounds something like an object getting caught in a ceiling fan. KELSO (cont’d): (to Jackie) That was you. Jackie offers a weak chuckle and dabs at her eyes. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - NIGHT Later that night. Eric and Donna are on the couch again, watching TV. The basement door flies open and Hyde staggers in. His clothes are dirty and torn, there are bite marks on his arm and claw scrapes on his shirt, and Schatzi shakes in his arms. Eric and Donna both stand. DONNA: What the hell happened? HYDE: I was taking Schatzi for a walk, and we got to the corner, and you know the Anderson house there, with the Great Dane? He got out of the yard. ERIC: Oh, my God. He went for Schatzi? HYDE: No, he went for me. Schatzi bit the bastard in the groin and then tore his ear and sent him running. It was so badass. Hyde sets Schatzi down. He struggles to stand back up straight. ERIC: Man, are you okay? HYDE: I’m fine. I’ve gotta get ready for my shift, but before that, I need to find that doggie thyroid crap for your little wiener dog. DONNA: What is with you and animals now? When did you get so knowledgeable on pet care? HYDE: I got roped into helping with the cat when me and Jackie were... He trails off; he can’t finish the thought. He drops down into the lawn chair and stairs blankly down at the coffee table. DONNA: You’re not over her, are you? Hyde doesn’t answer. ERIC: You still love her, don’t you? (to Donna) Look at him. So choked up he can’t even speak. Hyde’s throat pulses. He tugs at the top of his T-shirt. DONNA: More like he can’t even swallow. Hyde points to her, “bingo.” DONNA (cont’d): Okay... Hyde, we’ll take care of Schatzi’s thyroid. Why don’t you go take care of the rabies shot? Hyde points again, nods, and scrambles to his feet and back out the door. He’s no sooner gone than Kitty comes downstairs with another empty laundry basket. She goes straight to the dryer and unloads it. ERIC: Mom, you’re still behind on laundry? KITTY: Oh, I sat down just to rest my feet for a few minutes when I got home and – and before you know it, I... (checks watch) Oh, God, I’m late for work. ERIC: You’re working tonight? (points to door) Hyde’s working tonight? You both worked during the day. KITTY: Well, honey, nights can be our busiest time. Steven makes people a big, salty dinner, and then they come my way. (laughs) Now, there’s food in the... oh, who am I kidding? There’s no food! She hands Eric the laundry basket and scrambles back up the stairs. Eric walks over to the deep freeze. He sets the laundry down on it, leans against the basket. He whirls around to face Donna. ERIC: They can’t do this to me. They cannot do this to me. I gotta get out of here. Of all the people in the history of the world that have ever had to get anywhere, it is me having to get the hell out of here! I have to go! (beat) I have to stay. He drops down onto the couch. ERIC (cont’d): Donna, I’m sorry. Donna sits next to him. DONNA: Sorry? Eric, I think it’s amazing that you’d do that for your family. They kiss. DONNA (cont’d): And, you know, we’ll see each other on weekends. ERIC: Oh, so you’re still going? DONNA: Well... yeah, I mean... yeah. ERIC: Yeah. No. Of course. DONNA: Oh, come on. I think I know something that might make you feel better. She leans in to kiss him again. Before she can get things going, though, Eric puts a hand on her knee. ERIC: Hey, um... can we just, like... could we just sit for a while? DONNA: Yeah, sure. She scoots in closer to him. He moves his hand up to her arm, and puts his other arm around her shoulders. They lean their heads against each other and look down at their college brochures on the coffee table. FADE TO BLACK CREDITS EXT. STAIRWELL – NIGHT Another night. Eric and Donna descend the stairwell. They pause when they hear “Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me” by Mac Davis coming from behind the door. ERIC: Uh-oh. Country. Hyde’s sad music. Hesitating, Donna opens the door. A wall of smoke rushes out to meet them, as we cut to: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT Eric and Donna step into a basement full of diffuse smoke. Hyde sits in his chair with Schatzi in his arms. He’s cackling like a loon, slapping at his knee and swaying in his seat. Snacks of all kinds litter the coffee table. HYDE: (through laughter) Hey, Forman! He waves. Eric and Donna give reluctant waves back. ERIC: So, Hyde... how’s it going, buddy? HYDE: (laughing) I’m freakin’ miserable, man! A fresh wave of laughter comes on as he swipes a piece of salami from the coffee table and holds it up for Schatzi. END.

#z's fics #that 70s show #zenmasters #jackie x hyde #zen3to5+#fan fiction #fan script

9 notes · View notes

allaroundcringey · 4 years

Text

Dependency ~ Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 4 ~ Park Benches and Deductions

Pairing : Sherlock x Female Reader

Summary : After a few years John Watson was left no choice but to call his old school mate Amelia Harold. The matter of the call you ask? Sherlock's drug problem. What started out as a simple phone call to help out his friend turned out to be so much more: it gave Amelia Harold a chance to find out who deemed her father guilty of murder. Full of friendship, truth, heartbreak, suspense, and love this story showcases what matters most in life: your friends and family.

Warnings : mention of drug abuse, addiction, and emotional abuse in later chapters

TW : Panic attacks

A/N : as you might have noticed in the first few chapters I tend to tie the story in a bunch. I'm going to start leaning away from doing that because truly there is a theme and moral and ect to my story that I want to convey- not just the television show of Sherlock. I plan on mentioning the plot a few times for key plot points but other than that it'll be a lot of original work!

Also, some of this chapter hits close to home so if anyone else deals with those issues I wish you the best and just know everything will be okay <3

***I do not own any of these characters, plot ideas, and lines taken directly from the show (though there are only a few of those) anything pertaining to Amelia is my original work.***

Of the many mornings Amelia found herself stumbling into 221B she had not been met with such disarray. The scene that unfolded in front of her was Sherlock frantically running around, leaving behind his monstrously loud footsteps. He seemed to be searching through everything possible in the flat with no true plan of where and how to look. Papers flew everywhere along with several components to Sherlock's experiments.

John was sitting on the couch, head in his hand clearly looking fed up with the mans actions. A small part of Amelia wanted to slowly back out before anyone noticed her, but before she could seize the chance Sherlock spotted her from the corner of his eye. Moving like a trained dog he looked her body up and down and even grabbed the small bag Amelia was carrying. He dumped the contents across the floor and shuffled through them swiftly.

"You absolute arse! What the fuck was that for?!" Amelia exclaimed, waving her arms every which way.

"Drugs." Sherlock bluntly stated with absolutely no emotion.

"Sherlock you complete lunatic take a minute to breath and sit down!" John yelled which shut Sherlock up for a minute and made Amelia quiet down as well.

"Has he been like this all morning?"

"No-" Sherlock started.

"Oh yes he has. Since precisely 4 am last night. Woke me up from the sound of his gun. All because he was bored! Bored. I am at the expense of him because he can't find anything to entertain himself." John sounded exasperated and Amelia couldn't blame him. Living with Sherlock seemed like living with a toddler.

Before Sherlock could run past Amelia for the god only knows number of time she stopped him dead in his tracks by placing her hands firmly on his shoulders. Sherlock's expression was displayed as if he was a shocked child who got in trouble.

"Do you need the drugs or do you just need a distraction from whatever is going on in your brain?"

"Drugs." Sherlock grumbled, but instead of continuing his search in an act of defeat he flopped down into his chair.

"How are you John? Do you need anything?" Amelia asked, walking towards the couch and sat next to him.

"A cup of tea would be lovely-" Before John could finish his request Amelia shot up from the couch and steadily made her way over to where Sherlock was sulking.

"I know what we're going to do. I'm taking you to the park. Right now." Thankfully Sherlock was already dressed so they could go right out the door. Abandoning her bag and the spilled contents, she marched right over them while dragging Sherlock behind her.

"I'm already a third wheel." John muttered as the door slammed in front of his face.

"Mother of 3. Want's to separate from her husband. Does NOT want the kids." Sherlock pointed at the woman across the park who was walking past with a phone held to her ear, obviously in a heated conversation.

Amelia and Sherlock found themselves sat next to each other on a park bench. Between them sat a serving of chips that they were taking turns indulging in. Amelia's idea to distract Sherlock was to simply give him a task he had to complete. He had to deduce the public who found themselves at the same park. Amelia was glad they couldn't hear his deductions- most of them were quite rude and blunt.

"How do you know she's a mother of 3 and doesn't want her kids?"

"For one her body looks like she has had at least one child. Considering she is discussing divorce over the phone means that her and her husband have had time to grow apart, meaning time to have more kids. The average amount of kids a family has in this part of England is 3. And the fact that her kids are not with her at a park means she has some kind of resentment towards them."

"Makes sense." Amelia sighed.

"It's more than makes sense! It is fact. I am never wrong." Sherlock heatedly replied.

"Yes you are." Amelia wore a smug smile, knowing she was about to prove him wrong.

"No I'm not."

"The other day. You treated me differently because you thought I was fragile."

"I did nothing out of the ordinary-"

"I am not fragile. I have my moments like everyone else. But never mistake me for fragile." She took a moment before continuing on. "And I'd like to think you are the same way. You have your moments. Like this morning. But you are also not fragile."

"That man is currently having an affair with his wife's brother." Sherlock muttered turning away from Amelia.

She noticed anytime Sherlock was given the chance to open up and be real he always shut it down. She understood why he did, she acted the same way when anything about her dad was brought up. Amelia wasn't ignorant enough to think it was fine to live like that though. Sherlock was the exact opposite.

"You try." Sherlock spoke up suddenly.

"What?"

"You take a turn deducing people."

"No way in hell I'm capable of doing that." Amelia laughed in doubt at what Sherlock suggested.

"It's quite simple actually. For example," Sherlock took a moment to look around at the people who made up the park, "if someones finger nails are short and dirty they work in construction.'

"Well there's a bunch of construction workers over there. They definitely work in construction." Sherlock rolled his eyes at Amelia's sarcastic response.

"Which of the workers are on their break though? Look away from the construction scene itself." Amelia took his words to heart and started intently studying people's hands.

"Aha!" A few minutes later she spoke seemingly have found something. "That man over there eating a hot dog. Look at his nails."

"You are correct." Sherlock wore a small yet proud smile at Amelia's first deduction.

"Did this work?" Amelia turned to sit sideways on the bench to fully face Sherlock.

"Did what work?"

"Going to the park. Did it create enough of a distraction to keep you entertained?"

"Possibly."

"You're welcome."

"I would have figured it out on my own."

"Keep telling yourself that Holmes. We should probably head back to the flat. Johnny boy might be getting lonely."

"Do me and everyone else on Earth a favor and don't call John that again." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Alrighty Sherly." Amelia could hear an audible gag erupt from Sherlock's mouth at her words. Taking her time at the park as a victory she started to lead the two of them back to 221B Baker Street.

Amelia had ended up leaving to go back to her own flat shortly after dropping Sherlock- the more tamed version- back home. Dropping her keys on the counter top, she made her way slowly towards her bedroom.

Since she left their flat she felt something building up inside. Her head felt light and hurt. Overall she felt off. It made her uncomfortable that she couldn't shake it.

When she arrived she took a deep breath and let it go. Over and over. Sitting herself on the soft ground that made up her room, she continued keeping a steady breath. Feeling the ground beneath her hands beneath her being to remind herself she was still here. Breathing in and out and feeling the carpet between her finger tips.

After being alone for so long she forgot how much it could consume her. The silence, the loneliness, the boredom, the urges. When alone every problem she accumulated piled on top of her. It was hard to breath now.

Amelia knew she had to take herself away from herself before she did anything she regretted. Going to lay down, back on the floor, she placed her hands on her stomach. Control. Control her thoughts. Breath in. Breath out. Start counting backwards in a pattern of 3 from 100. 97. 94. 91. Do it until everything

Stops.

Her panic attacks didn't last long but when they hit they hit hard. They would cause her not to be able to breath, and most times her heart would begin racing. On the outside her composure would look fine, at the most only a bit agitated. On the inside a storm was created in her mind. The wicked witch of the west would swoop in and take away her self control until she decided it was time to give it back.

Mustering enough energy to bring herself up, Amelia stood and gently lay herself on her bed. She said her affirmation statements that her therapist taught her from all those years ago. She was okay. She was alright. Everything was going to be good.

Falling into a soft slumber, Amelia allowed her body to go limp, and give herself a break.

"How are you liking Sherlock?" John asked Amelia as they were leaving a victim's place they had to investigate, courtesy of Sherlock's wishes.

"I don't feel anything definitive but I think he has potential." Amelia shrugged, answering John truthfully.

"Potential for what?" John had a look in his eyes that Amelia immediately picked up on. John couldn't hide the smile creeping onto his face.

"I do not plan to do anything of the sorts. I meant as a friend. Although he has few of those which is why I said nothing was definitive." Amelia explained, retaliating the suggesting looks Sherlock gave.

"Stop overthinking Amelia. You two click like two pieces in a puzzle. Dare I say more than we did." John faked gasped at the end causing Amelia to laugh.

"Straight lies you're feeding me John. Quite rude to lie to your old mate!"

"Oh stop it. You'll prove me right soon enough. Trust my love instincts." John wriggled his eyebrows in a concerning manner.

"That was the most repulsing thing I've witness in my life. And I've seen some shit. Please never do that again." Amelia shook her head in disappointment.

"Don't MAKE me do it again!" John laughed.

Amelia knew that her and Sherlock would only be friends. If at all. Right now she was mainly making sure he didn't take any drugs. Even though all of that was true she couldn't help but think of what could happen though. What if something happened that was beyond friends? Not wanting to entertain the thought she pushed it away and tried to enjoy the rest of the day with John.

2 notes · View notes

lovelylogans · 5 years

Text

odds are

LORELAI: Oh, come on. This will be fun. LUKE: No way, not happening. LORELAI: But this is our first Halloween together as a full-blown, committed, soon-to-be-married couple. We need to start our own traditions. LUKE: Tell you what. I'll build you the chair, help with the test tubes, and then I'm done. LORELAI: But you would be so scary with smoke coming out of your nose. I really want to see that. LUKE: Well, we're gonna be together the rest of our lives, so odds are you will.

-gilmore girls, twenty-one is the loneliest number

part of the wyliwf verse | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: dogs, costumes, bittersweet nostalgia, homesickness, loneliness mentions, deceit

pairings: moxiety, logince

words: 4,748

notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! we’ve hit the last prompt for 13 days of halloween prompts over at @sanderssidescelebrations! today’s prompt is costume party! this takes place about two years later after the events of cohabit and about nine months after the events of cocoa—so it’s logan and roman’s freshman year of college and don’t worry the whole Relationship Development and like, Other Developments that get dropped pretty soon in the story will be subject to a oneshot(s) or potentially multichap sideshire files, don’t worry boo i gotchu you can find the various foods mentioned throughout the story here.

seven days

patton has been well aware that halloween is virgil’s favorite holiday. it’s not even their first halloween since they’ve been together or lived together—but virgil’s really stepping it up this year.

“pat.”

patton makes a grumbling kind of noise—patton’s close to drifting off to sleep, which virgil knows, and virgil also knows not to really expect a lot of conversation from patton when he’s near sleep, either waking up or falling asleep—and squints. the only light on in the room is virgil’s phone.

“pat, we forgot to get a costume for cocoa,” virgil says.

patton mumbles something that’s supposed to be “we have a week,” but it comes out garbled. somehow, virgil understands it—it’s probably the almost-nineteen years of knowing him.

“i don’t even have an idea,” virgil says.

“can we figure this out in the morning?” patton mumbles.

“it’s cocoa’s first halloween.”

“cocoa doesn’t seem to care much right now.”

cocoa is, indeed, flopped out at their feet, snoozing happily away. patton’s kind of jealous.

“but—i don’t have an idea,” virgil says, and patton sighs, adjusting as much as he can without kicking their dog, and ends up flopping most of his body on top of virgil’s torso, pillowing his head on virgil’s shoulder. this also, conveniently, brings virgil’s phone out of his sight.

“sleep now.”

“patton—“

“sleep now,” he repeats in a kind of growl.

there’s a hesitation. then, the light clicks off, and there’s the sound of virgil’s phone being settled on his bedside table. patton almost smiles, and readjusts, getting comfy.

“...so, like, do you think we should dress her more cute or more scary?” virgil asks tentatively.

patton lets out a huff that’s the closest thing to a snort he can get, when he’s this close to dropping off. “definitely cute,” he mumbles.

“okay,” virgil says. there’s another long pause, and patton’s about to slip off into sleep, before—

“is it too on-the-nose if we dress her up like a cup of cocoa?”

“darling,” patton says, “i love you, and i will super definitely listen to your rambling as you try to narrow down your costume ideas, because that is what fiancés slash almost-husbands should do, but if you do not let me get to sleep there might just be a halloween-themed murder.”

there’s a pause.

“so no to the cup of cocoa idea, then,” virgil says, and patton laughs, pressing a kiss to virgil’s shoulder before he nuzzles against his chest.

“so if we’re thinking cute, then we’ve got a lot of options since she’s pretty ambiguous about clothes, she likes the jacket we put on her when it’s cold out, so that’s not a limit,” virgil muses, and patton falls asleep to the gentle lull of his voice as he talks about dog costume ideas.

...

six days

logan really shouldn’t still be doing this, by now. he’s been at college for nearly three months, now. it only took twenty-one days to form a habit, and it seemed the twenty-one days had snuck up on him, and now—

“hi, dad.”

“hey, kiddo,” his dad says, and logan leans against the wall of his lecture hall, closing his eyes tight. “how’s your day going so far?”

“mostly good,” logan fibs. “i just got done with my history course, so i’m done with classes for the week.”

his dad makes a sound of celebration, and logan smiles, just a little, avoiding the gazes of the anonymous sea of people flooding forth from the lecture hall.

“but i’m going to the library soon,” logan adds, and his dad lets out a familiar sigh.

“well, as long as you’re not overworking yourself,” his dad says.

logan hums, because if he says something about how he’s going to be plotting out an essay that’s due right before thanksgiving break his dad will tell him to take a break and that he can take a weekend to relax, but he absolutely cannot do that. instead, he says, “what plans do you have for the weekend?”

“oh, not much, really,” patton says. “hang around the diner, take cocoa for some really long walks before it gets too cold, try to talk virgil out of turning the front yard into a graveyard for the trick-or-treaters, you know, the usual.”

“trying to talk virgil out of what,” logan says.

“halloween,” patton says, by way of explanation, and logan makes a noise of understanding.

it’s virgil’s absolute favorite holiday—logan remembers thinking, as a kid, that whenever virgil started getting excited about halloween, it meant his birthday was coming soon—and logan attempts to forcefully quell what absolutely was not disappointment at his first halloween approach away from sideshire. the setup’s half the fun.

“you still don’t know what you’re dressing up as?”

“nope,” his dad says cheerfully. “he insists that all of it’s gonna be a surprise, so—”

“you don’t even have the slightest idea?” logan pushes.

“well, i’m no you,” his dad points out, and laughs when logan sighs.

“are you doing anything fun, this weekend?” his dad asks, and logan ignores the little squirming guilty feeling in his stomach, the same way he always feels when his dad asks the question, and when he answers.

“i think i might go out to dinner with some people on my dorm floor,” logan says vaguely, thinking of the meal that he’ll pack away from the dining hall and eat alone in his room, “or see a movie,” he’ll be making flashcards and quizzing himself over and over and over again, “we haven’t decided yet.”

“oh, that’s great!” his dad says, sounding pleased. “let me know if you see a movie, if it’s good or not, yeah?”

“yeah,” logan says, making a mental note to look up movie reviews in case his dad asks, in their call tomorrow. “how’s work been?”

he leans against the wall, listening to his dad prattle cheerfully on, and he sinks further and further back into the shadows, relishing the autumn chill, the news of home, and the slightest balm that his dad’s voice offers against the gnawing presence of homesickness and loneliness that’s been in his chest since he was left alone in his dorm room for the first time.

...

five days

“hello?”

“hey! hey hey hey hey hey hey. hey.”

“hello. are you drunk?”

“i’m at a halloween party, and i’ve had a couple drinks.”

“mhm.”

“not many! just a couple.”

“of course.”

“a man drunk-dials you one time...”

“it’s been three times, but i’ll allow a pass, since your memory recall is clearly impaired.”

“were you sleeping?”

“no, just reading.”

“s’late. you should be sleeping.”

“roman, why would you have called if you thought i was sleeping?”

“get your logic out of here, i love you and i wanted to check in.”

“ah, okay. have you hit—what was the phrase?”

“...i might be in rambly drunk territory.”

“what a shock.”

“hey.”

“it’s true!”

“seriously, though, what are you doing up? usually you’re all about the whole... getting eight hours of sleep thing. or at least you always tell me to get eight hours of sleep.”

“i have an essay—“

“it’s the weekend.”

“that does not change the fact i have an essay, roman. in fact, it indicates the nearness of the due date. besides, i’m working ahead so i can better focus when we’re both home next week—”

“ugh, fine, fine. i’m sure i’ll remember this when i can more coherently bring a point together to tell you why taking at least one day off a week is better for your mental health and general productivity, but—“

“roman, was there a point to this call?”

“i love you and i wanted to hear your voice.”

“...you’re pouting.”

“am not.”

“are too.”

“am not!”

“are too.”

“am—“

“i’m cutting it off now, or we’ll keep going in circles until the sun rises.”

“fiiiiiine.”

“....are too.”

“hey!”

...

four days

"okay,” virgil says, checking the list that he’s taken off the wall as patton pushes the cart behind him, with the squeak-squeak-squeak of a wheel that needs to be oiled.

usually, when he and patton go grocery shopping, they go to taylor doose’s shop in town, but since they need to get decorations and bags of candy and a ton of other stuff, they’ve driven a little closer to the city so they can go to a bigger grocery store that’s got everything they’ll need.

squeak-squeak-squeak, and virgil glances up at the listings hanging from the ceiling.

“so this is food, and i guess over there might be decorations?”

“mhm,” patton says, squeak-squeak-squeak.

“we’ve gotten candy,” patton had snuck at least three extra bags into the cart and virgil pretended not to see, “we’ve gotten streamers, we got banners, i was thinking about getting some spare fabric in case my idea for cocoa’s costume doesn’t pan out and i have to go to my back-up plan, and we still need to get—”

the squeaking’s stopped. virgil turns back, curious, and sees patton stopped in his path and staring at—

oh.

virgil plods back a few steps, so he’s hovering near patton’s shoulder. patton doesn’t seem to notice, though, as he’s staring at the racks of superhero costumes—from onesies for babies to about the size logan was, when he was seven or so.

“sweetheart,” virgil says, soft and gentle, and patton jumps just a little.

“sorry!” he says, and shakes himself, reaching out a finger as if to brush it against a baby onesie, but thinking better of it, hand curling back toward him. “sorry, sorry, just—i wondered if...”

“yeah?” virgil asks.

“i was just thinking about,” patton says, and swallows. “logan, y’know. when he was this tiny.”

virgil had figured. over the past few months, he’s found patton lost in thought and staring at any number of things—the jam shelf in doose’s grocery, whenever he sees rudy out and about in town, the telescope logan had gotten for his sixteenth birthday that he’d had to reluctantly leave behind since there wouldn’t be enough space for it in his dorm room, any time he passes the press—and it’s just...

it twists at virgil’s heart, every time it happens, a bittersweetness that surges unexpectedly to the surface for him, too—making jam tarts three times a week is an exercise in making sure he doesn’t cry at work, which feels stupid, they’re just tarts, but every time he rolls out dough he thinks of all the times logan had helped him with it, the smiles he’d get whenever virgil snuck him one, and it—

it’s just. hard. kids grow up, and that’s natural, and good, but...

but, well. it didn’t stop the nostalgia.

“do you think he would have been a big superhero fan?” he asks, soft. “if they were as big a market then as they are now.”

patton swallows, leans his head against virgil’s shoulder, just for a moment. “the science ones,” he says softly. “he’d like—he’d like the science ones.”

virgil smiles a little, feeling that familiar lump in his throat. “the reporters, too. he’d have the alliteration thing going, too—lois lane logan. and roman would be superman.”

patton lets out a laugh that’s really closer to a sob, and virgil wants to wrap him up in a long, lingering hug, virgil’s general shyness about public displays of affection be damned, but before he can do that, patton turns. he’s smiling at virgil, just a little, but it’s fake around the edges.

“sorry,” patton says, and swallows. virgil nudges him, just a little.

“he’ll be home soon,” virgil reminds him, soft and quiet.

“i know,” patton murmurs, and a slightly rueful smile twists his lips. “i know, i know. it’s just—”

“i know,” virgil murmurs, and allows himself to lean over and press a chaste kiss to patton’s cheek. “it’s okay to miss him.”

it’s been a common refrain.

“i know.”

that’s been common, too.

“i miss him too,” virgil admits, quiet, and patton squeezes tightly at his wrist, before he takes a deep breath and forcefully turns away from anything resembling a baby clothes section.

“okay,” patton says, and maybe he’s forcing himself to sound a bit brighter and perkier than usual. “what else do we need to get?”

virgil lets it slide, and if he maybe hangs back so that he can hold patton’s hand as they walk through the store—well, patton’s clinging to him tightly enough that it’s clear that he needs it, too.

...

three days

"i’d had no idea you were so fascinated by halloween,” logan comments, from where he’s holding up the banner as dee affixes the other side.

“you think my spooky bitch aesthetic wouldn’t be all over this?” dee says, voice studiously bland.

“well, you were never ‘all over it’ at chilton.”

“you wore those uniforms for three years,” dee says pointedly. “and you know how strict they were with dress code.”

“true,” logan acknowledges, and steps back when dee comes to attach the other edge of the CREEPIN IT REAL banner to the wall. “are you sure you don’t want to come to sideshire?”

“i’d have to visit my parents,” dee says, with an eye-roll. “i have an invite to get wine-drunk with some poetry majors—“

“i thought it was whiskey-drunk with pre-meds?”

“—so i’m afraid i’m booked, and cannot upstage your little boy-toy with my clearly superior costume.”

“it’s roman,” logan says. “you know it’s roman. you got drunk and spilled a lot of your life story with roman, even if it directly conflicts with the varying life stories you’ve told me. you can no longer pretend that you are not on a first-name basis with him.”

“of course, sanders,” dee says, and logan rolls his eyes, before he draws his hand back from the pile of decor.

“um,” he says, and then winces, because dee can detect any sense of uncertainty in anyone’s tone, like a shark smelling blood.

“what?” dee says, glancing at him.

“would you,” logan says, and his mouth twists, since he knows he can’t pass this off as anything but sentimental. “would you be willing to keep the fake spider webbing to your room?”

dee narrows his eyes at him. “you’re not afraid of spiders.”

“no,” logan agrees, and hands it over, conscientious of the lack of spider webbing in his halloweens all his life—because his dad’s afraid of spiders, and virgil has always catered to him. “but i’d prefer you kept it to your room anyway.”

...

two days

"all right, what’ll it be?” virgil asks, leaning a hip against the counter and readying his pen to write down patton’s order.

“thiiiiiiis whole section,” patton says, outlining the special insert of halloween-themed foods with his pointer finger. “oh, and a hot cocoa/coffee, too.”

“patton.”

“c’mon, pleeaaase?” patton pleads, batting his eyelashes at virgil. “i’ve barely tried any of them, and you only do it once a year—”

“you won’t be able to eat all that,” virgil starts.

“sample sizes, then,” patton says. “little bits of everything.”

virgil pauses.

“you can control my portions, that way,” patton points out. “and i’ll be taste-testing everything, and i won’t be wasting food. win-win.”

virgil hesitates, tapping the pen. “bigger serving of the butternut squash risotto, so you’ll have an actual meal, a side of vegetables of my choice that you’ll eat, and only one cup of caffeinated hot cocoa/coffee, it’s already late in the day.”

patton beams at him, handing him back the menu. “you’re the best.”

“yeah, yeah,” virgil mutters, and patton blows him a kiss, just for extra measure.

virgil rolls his eyes, trying to act like he’s not grinning like a lovestruck idiot, and retreats back into the kitchen to stick the ticket into the deck.

“i really should make a halloween sampler platter next year,” virgil muses aloud, and taps the idea into his phone for later, so he remembers it, before he starts readying patton’s dinner—caramel apple slices, cheesy spiders, monster pizza bites, mummy jalepeño poppers, spooky spinach dip in a bread bowl cauldron, a saucy spider, ghost toast. he adds on a couple decorated cookies that he’ll default are part of the menu, if patton teases him about it.

and, when patton makes the same happy noises that he always does whenever he eats anything that virgil makes him, well. if he’s smiling to himself as he clears out the coffee filters, then it’s no one’s business but his.

...

one day

“i got it,” virgil says triumphantly.

“got what?” patton says absently, taking out the various kinds of candy they’d bought earlier in the week to put into various bowls.

“cocoa’s costume,” virgil says. “i got it.”

“yeah?” patton says, glancing up at him and grinning. “can i see?”

“nope,” virgil says, and drops a kiss to the top of his head, before he drops into the opposite chair at the kitchen table. “but it is very cute, and it ties in with ours.”

“which i’m also not supposed to know about,” patton says.

“exactly,” virgil says, and he frowns at the bags of candy. “are we mixing or sorting or...?”

“stuff with nuts in red, stuff that’s allergen-safe in blue,” patton says, gesturing to the bowls.

“got it,” virgil says, tugging a bag full of fun-size skittles toward him.

cocoa, loyally, takes up her regular seat under the dining table, where she begs for scraps, and patton laughs, reaching down to pet her, tousling her fur and sending her ears flopping.

“no, cocoa, honey,” patton says, smiling, “no candy for you.”

cocoa, however, lives in eternal hope, so she sets her chin on his thigh and lets out a little sigh.

patton does sneakily pop a fun-size snickers into his mouth, though, because he’s an adult and he can eat candy if he wants.

and a milky way. and a three musketeers. and a reese’s. and—

“it’s cute you think i don’t notice you doing that,” virgil says, not looking up from where he’s opening another bag of candy, and patton smiles at him, only a little guilty, as he tosses a handful of m&ms into his mouth.

“aw, babe,” patton teases, “you think i’m cute?”

virgil looks up at him, fond and jokingly exasperated all at once. “we’re literally engaged.”

“yeah, but,” patton says, and grins wider. “you think i’m cu-ute.”

virgil huffs, before he leans over the table, standing, to press a kiss to patton’s lips, and patton can’t stop smiling for long enough to let him do it properly.

virgil doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

...

halloween

"okay,” virgil says, and hands over a vast bunch of black fabric. patton accepts it with eager hands.

“my costume?”

“your costume,” virgil confirms. “i figured i’d do some makeup too, as we’re waiting for trick-or-treaters, if that’s cool with you.”

patton makes a distracted sound of agreement as he unfolds it—he can’t quite unparse what it is right now, but it’s virgil-made in both idea and fabric-wise, so he’s sure he’ll love it.

“okay,” patton says, and presses a kiss to his cheek. “i’ll change and take the first shift of babies trick-or-treating while you and cocoa get everything ready for the party, yeah?”

“yeah,” virgil says, looking pleased, and patton ducks into the bathroom, untangling the fabric.

it’s a black shirt, a black jacket, black pants—they all have feathery-looking accents, subtle and yet so clear, and patton tilts his head at it, trying to figure it out. it’s some kind of bird, definitely, but—

patton shrugs, and tugs it on, before he stares at himself in the mirror—it’s a bit low-cut, front-wise, but there’s threads criss-crossing in the front to seal it up, so he does. there’s a long, duster-type coat that patton really likes and might wear regularly, too, since the feather stuff is maybe subtle enough to pass off in the middle of the regular season.

“do you have a shoe preference?” patton hollers through the bathroom door.

“black ones!” virgil calls back.

“is this a sneak method to make me look goth?” he calls, and he can hear virgil’s snort through the door.

“just for today,” he calls.

“am i a crow?”

“raven, actually, but there’s a specific one, you’ll realize it soon enough,” virgil says, and patton opens the door to see virgil gathering up his own swaths of dark fabric in his arms, cocoa sitting politely at his feet. patton does a little spin to show off.

virgil smiles, and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “you look great.”

“thanks,” patton says, and flaps his arms, and the duster makes it look like wings. “i really like this coat.”

virgil’s smile turns a bit more pleased. “thanks.”

“okay,” patton decides, and makes some last-minute adjustments, making sure his costume sits on him right, and virgil reaches out to correct his collar. “i’ll go out on the porch, just come on out when you and cocoa are ready, yeah?”

he presses a kiss to virgil’s lips, and the last thing he sees is virgil ducking down to cocoa’s level, unearthing a dress-looking thing.

he tries to brainstorm what it is, even as he gives out generous handfuls of candy to the tiny, toddling members of sideshire—mostly toddler-aged kids, at this time, so they don’t have to stay up late—exclaiming over mermaids and superheroes and princesses and witches and ghosts and video game characters, winking at them when he slips them extra.

when their parents ask after him, what exactly he is, he simply shrugs, beaming, before sending the kids on to the next house.

the sun’s just dipped below the horizon when he hears the door open, and the familiar click-click-click of cocoa’s nails on hardwood, then on the porch.

patton whistles lowly, and pats his lap, craning his neck to see her.

she does, indeed, look very cute. patton had been right—it had been a dress, with a kind of vest, maybe, and a tiara nestled amongst the fake flowers on her head that’s already knocked askew.

“you look so cute, baby girl!” patton gushes, getting onto his knees, all the better to pet cocoa without dislodging her costume and to adjust her tiara—it’s ringing a bell in his head, what exactly she is, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

that is, until—

“the princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know her,” virgil’s voice rumbles, and patton looks up and immediately feels his mouth go dry. “but, before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die. or, uh. prick her paw, i guess.”

patton makes a noise that kind of sounds like guh?

virgil is... wow. he’s dressed in sweeping black robes that make him look taller and slimmer than he already is, imposing, somehow, absolutely towering over everything in sight. the robes have a v neck and a pointed, sharp collar that brings attention to the horns emerging from his head. his cheekbones are absolutely chiseled, his lips ruby red, his skin pale and smooth and flawless, his hair—what peeked forth from the horns, anyway—dark and lush and just begging for patton to run his fingers through it.

there’s only peeks of skin—his hands, his neck, a bit of his chest, his face, of course—but he looks so...

patton tries to swallow as he rises to his feet, mouth slightly agape.

virgil’s lips—so red, so full—quirk, and he adjusts his robes, looking self-conscious. “it doesn’t look that bad, does it?” he asks cautiously.

patton reaches up, and scratches lightly through the thin, delicate hairs at the nape of virgil’s neck. he shivers.

and then patton tugs virgil down to his level, and tries his best to kiss him absolutely silly. he threads his fingers through whatever bits of virgil’s hair he can grab, tugging him close, the other closing possessively over virgil’s hip and he just pulls him in, as hot and close and tight as he possibly can, and virgil’s lips part under his and he tastes like snuck chocolate and caramel and nougat, and he bites at virgil’s lip, almost half-hoping it’ll taste like what the color reminds him of—candy-coated apples.

when patton manages to let go of him, once he’s at least a little satisfied his emotions on virgil’s costumes have been almost-adequately conveyed, he leans back to see virgil’s slightly-smeared lip gloss that sends a thrill up patton’s spine.

“oh,” virgil says breathlessly.

“yeah,” patton says, grinning, “oh.”

somehow, they manage to haul out the two rocking chairs and sit out on the porch for the express purpose of ease of access for trick-or-treaters without patton getting distracted, though he does, for most of the rest of the time they wait for the ebb and flow of floods of kids, keep a hand on virgil’s knee, occasionally squeezing virgil’s thigh.

virgil flushes, just a bit, behind his makeup. he ends up fixing up his lips, and making sure that there aren’t any remnants on patton’s face that give away what they’d been doing, lest any of the children ask why maleficent had been kissing her raven, diaval, as they looked up from petting sleeping beauty.

and, as the promised time inches closer and closer, patton can’t stop himself from fidgeting, and virgil snickers.

“excited?” he teases.

“don’t pretend you haven’t planned out all of logan’s favorite meals for the weekend,” patton says, unable to stop his own smile at the thought—since logan’s birthday is on sunday, he’s come home early with one of the default absences that his lecture professor on friday’s given him, and roman’s coming home, too, so the kids will be around and they might have a big dinner with isadora (and probably one with his parents) but he’ll be able to spend time with his son.

their daily phone calls are great, true, but he’s missed just hanging out with logan—their companionable silences, seeing his son furrow his brow with interest when he reads a book or an article, the meaningful, wordless quirks of his brow or twists of his lips that patton’s spent eighteen-almost-nineteen years deciphering—so he’s just. he’s really excited.

when the first guests come—emile and remy, dressed up as steven and connie—patton welcomes them perhaps a bit too eagerly as cocoa barks, tail wagging wildly, and patton tries to correct her tiara again.

he throws himself into hosting as virgil handles the last of the trick-or-treaters that’ll be face-to-face—he makes sure their spooky cauldrons of punch are full, that the platters of themed snacks that virgil had spent most of the day preparing (and mostly preventing patton from eating) are out from the fridge and ferried about the room, and that everyone is having a good time, that he greets everyone and exclaims over their costumes, before—

cocoa starts barking excitedly from the porch, and patton grins, setting down the platter on the nearest available surface and dashing for the door, half-hanging off the ledge in order to see virgil letting logan out of a hug, and tugging roman into an awkward, one-armed kind of thing.

“kiddo!” patton says eagerly, and wraps his arms tightly around logan’s shoulders. logan tolerates it with something less than his usual stiffness—he hugs him back, and patton draws back to grin at him.

“happy halloween.”

“happy halloween,” logan repeats, and patton takes a look at him. he’s wearing a suit, and a dapper hat, and he’s holding a candy cigarette between his fingers, the box with the rest of them tucked away in his breast pocket.

“who—?”

“walter burns, from his girl friday.”

patton snorts, just a bit, because of course logan stuck so stubbornly to his interests for a halloween costume, before he looks for roman—who has matched with logan, as hildy johnson, because last year they’d dressed up as two prince charmings and it’s logan’s year to pick—and hooks him into a hug, too.

“i tried convincing him to do black-and-white makeup, but he wouldn’t go for it,” roman says.

“we were already running late,” logan begins, and they barely pause in their bickering to pet cocoa—patton’s given up in keeping her tiara and flowers straight on her head—before they disappear inside, and patton turns to virgil, grinning.

“happy halloween,” virgil says, and leans down to kiss him on the cheek, and patton beams up at him.

“happy halloween.”

(patton doesn’t wash off the bright red lip print on his cheek until he’s getting ready for bed that night.)

#my post #text #my fic #sanders sides spooky month 2019 #wyliwf #the sideshire files

30 notes · View notes

olivieblake · 4 years

Text

So I have a lot of feelings

Hello Olivie! First of all, I want to apologise for my messy english as it isn’t my first language and i get really anxious about doing mistakes. don’t worry about it! I regularly feel stupid that at best I only speak one and a half.

Okay, now that i’ve got that out of the way: boy, oh boy, have i got some feelings.

I discovered you, I think, back in 2017?, when you started writing Nobility. I stumbled by accident by that little fanfiction of yours, and let me tell you, I was hooked. I loved the fierceness and rage you gave your female characters. They were allowed to scream, to fail, to be messy, and cruel and complicated and I LOVED IT. always nice to hear! Back then I sent you an ask saying your little experiment of suddenly changing from a narrative voice to theatrical one was a delight. I do remember that ask. A lot of people didn’t care for it, so I remember being especially grateful to hear you thought it was interesting. It was my dream to, one day, have prose as elegant charming and captivating as yours. After you finished it (and I suppose I should come clean from my sins and confess I’m silent reader type, too shy to leave any comments on any work of fiction, feeling I wouldn’t be able to convey all of my emotions correctly and in a way the author could enjoy just so you know, this is definitely a misconception. We don’t expect any brilliant commentary! We just want to know we’re not alone here in the internet void. If you read something I wrote and it made you feel something, I always want to know about it.). After skimming through some the stories on Amortentia, I got busy with life and I kinda forgot about you. lol. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Fast foward in time, and I don’t now why but a few months ago, while you were in the middle of writing Divinaton for Skeptics, I stumbled upon you once again. Once again I has fallen in love with your writing, your characters and your worlds. This time I stayed, tough, and followed Lady Vengeance from start to finish, waiting for each chapter as a lost man awaits the water on a desert. After you tied the ribbon with that story, I, once again, just gave it the customary kudos and felt the mandatory guilt for not doing much more. this has been a tough year for me, so it’s nice to hear you came back!

Around this time, I vagely remember seeing a post of yours saying something along the lines of how it seemed that people were losing interest in your writing and how that made you feel. sigh, yes It was this moment that made me decide: i would like to do more. I would like to do more for this person that pours her heart and soul into some wonderful stories we have the privilige to be able to read for free. awww this is so nice of you to say So, looking through your books descriptions, I bought the Kindle version of Fairytales of the Macabre (i would love to get the physical copies someday, but as of right now i’m a broke college student it seems i will have to wait jajaja yeah, I get it. I try to price everything as low as possible so it’s easier for you to have some version, doesn’t matter which). Life kinda got in the way, with the typical stuff you can spect: mental health got worse, medication didn’t seem to help, I know this story well lots of workload, trying to study as for to pass the car license writing exam… I kinda forgot about the book. understandable

It wasn’t until one month early, while i was in a particulary boring two hours class, that i decided to take a peek. And bo, oh boy, I had devoured the entire thing at the end of the class. (And being sincere with you, omg if it wasn’t torture having to contain my giggles of delight and fangirl thoughts while reading it). I fell in love: I smiled with Pins and Needles, gave my heart away to the Animation Games, and loved the twist at the end of Sensual Tales for Carnal Pleasures. Fates and Consequences hooked me with its premise and i stayed for the themes it tackled. I’m happy to hear it!

Honestly, after a months long reader’s block (and a years worth writer’s block too), being able to read something else than fanfictions —and a REALLY GOOD FICTION at that— was a sweet liberation. And that freedom felt so good I decided to buy Midsummer Night Dreams —and gave FotM a 5 stars on Goodreads—. thank you so much! Life got on my way once again, and it wasn’t up until two days ago, when my heart, mind and soul were shaking ‘cos of the hunger of the ghost of my depression, that I opened Midsummer. And once again, after doing so, I just couldn’t stop. honestly I do think the fairytale collections are a great choice to read post-depression. a lot of the stories tackle themes of loneliness and finding yourself—I wrote a lot of them from a place of personal longing, so I can see why it might help. they’re very wistful stories. I read it in class, on the bus on my way home, while eating out in bars. Like that, it was finished in no time. And I felt admiration for your entire persona once more: the power and love for writing you can express through words has no name, but i love it to my core (plus, your prose is like a good hot chocolate, sweet and sating, with a bitter touch at the end, and a melancholic feeling after having finished it oooh I love that). I even started fangirling (and nagging ) to a friend who isn’t a particular fan of the romance genre about how she MUST read your works. thank you so much! I’m so honored.

Today, after putting the 5 starts on Goodreads for Midsummer, I gifted myself with The Lovers Grim, which i suspect will be a victim to my hunger on my flight to go back home. I hope you like it! It’s definitely my favorite of the three. And after seeing it on my Kindle, i gathered my courage and decided that even if I was too shy to review each and every one of your works or/and chapters, I would like to send you this love letter on your Tumblr, because not only have your works been my solace on difficult times, but because I feel you deserve to now how much you impact and help your readers, both with your youtube videos —which, goddammit, i have to catch up to— and your works. I do appreciate that more than I can say. It can be very lonely on this side of the screen, so it can often be an enormous comfort to hear from you.

Keep writing and bringing joy, I beg you. And Happy Holidays to you <3 You are so sweet. Thank you so much for supporting me and my work. Reading my books is the absolute nicest thing you could ever possibly do for me!

PD: I still haven’t read any of the Advent prompts, but as a woman studying on STEM right now (civil engineering), i am thrilled to get to it asap. they’ll be here for you when you’re ready!

PD 2: Sorry for the long ass post u_u. no problem. I’d rather hear it than not!

#submission #nobility #how lady vengeance takes her tea #divination for skeptics #fairytales of the macabre #midsummer night dreams #the lovers grim #original work #filling the bucket

8 notes · View notes

dotthings · 5 years

Text

All right here we go, my notes on SPN 14.17 “Game Night,” which gets into parental issues and closure, domesticity on SPN, Cas and loneliness and connections with others, parallels between Dean and Cas, waffles, Dean’s facade, Sam’s heartbreak, my boredom and dislike of villain characters who I am supposed to dislike anyway, the nature of souls, and God as absentee parent.

First off, S14 has to be possibly the most domestic SPN season ever. We’ve had glimpses. But S14 is really digging in showing us this family’s life in the bunker. Add to this, even though Cas wasn’t present for game night, how accepted and normalized it is that Cas lives there. That’s his home. He’s expected and if he goes he at least tells Dean and it’s temporary, it’s assumed he’ll come back. Our bunker family includes 2 characters who aren’t blood related to the Winchesters, Cas and Jack, but they are part of the family nonetheless, something S14 has made abundantly clear.

Why is this domesticity important? Isn’t SPN about killing monsters? It’s important because SPN is about killing monsters. It adds texture and layers to our heroes, makes their lives even more real, and ups the drama factor when we can see them have moments of domesticity and being a family to contrast with the harshness and the monster fights and the darker aspects. SPN from the get-go, has as its primary fuel the bonds between characters. Most of SPN is about Sam, Dean, and Cas as charcters who have MHI and PTSD and how they keep on keeping on, and their bonds with each other and other characters.

We also need to be reminded of the stakes. Our heroes need to be shown living the world they’re trying to save and we need to see why they care if their loved ones are imperiled. We need to see them being a family to understand what could be lost. Remember in ep 300 alternate Sam and alternate Dean we learn are isolated characters and we see Cas devoid of personal attachments, and that was their tragedy.

The monsters are really just a backdrop to explore these characters. Because SPN is a horror/urban fantasy series, we aren’t going to spend a whole lot of time on the domestic stuff, it needs lots of monster-killing action, but all in service of revealing character, and the domesticity needs to be there as part of the emotional weave. It stood out to me how extra domestic the start of Game Night is, with Mary and Jack putting snacks together, Mary trying to talk to Jack, and Dean trying to fix the mouse trap game, they reference that Sam is off getting pizza and will be back shortly, and we have a reason Cas isn’t there but we know if Cas were he’d be right in the thick of the domesticity.

They also did it because of how hurty this ep gets later on, for dramatic contrast.

Dean, our smart little engineer. Dean seems really, really frustrated he can’t fix the mouse trap game which you might think is just there for comedy but it’s not. He’s really minds he can’t fix that mouse trap game. Dean hates it when he can’t fix things, doesn’t he. When someone in his family is hurt or something’s wrong with them and there’s nothing he can do. He’s also not over that PTSD from having Michael screaming and banging in his head. It’s the little things. You think SPN actually forgot he has PTSD, look again.

And where is Cas? Why, he’s off meeting with the angel Anael to get a fix for Jack’s soullessness, without telling Sam and Dean, because Cas...he’s still got issues which I’ll get to a moment.

Interesting Cas orders a waffle he’s apparently not eating. Maybe just to not appear out of place in the diner. While Anael doesn’t even get coffee. Like it’s important to Cas to behave as a human, even if he’s not actually going to eat that waffle. Maybe Cas just wanted a waffle. It’s a really cute waffle, I’d want that waffle. This is reminding me of Cas and the milkshakes in 14.15. Why do they keep showing us Cas and cute milkshakes, Cas and cute waffles. It’s tantalizing. Almost lampshading the fact that this idea of Cas and milkshakes, Cas and waffles, is appealing, the idea of Cas enjoying these things, and maybe Cas would enjoy these things, yet he’s not going to actually consume them.

So Anael was Joshua’s right hand. That was a reveal that shows she was an angel of some importance.

I love the Anael and Cas dialogue. “Ill-conceived lone-wolf desperation.” Anael has seen some things. There’s several moments here where she sees through Cas’s bullshit, and several moments where Cas sees through hers.

Cas is not only hiding his deal with The Empty, he’s gone off to find God to fix Jack’s soul without telling Sam and Dean.

Oh this Dean and Mary scene. I’ve talked about Mary’s arc before, and how purposeful the distance and remoteness is, why the character is meant to be brittle, and wondering what kind of progression we’d see, a softening on that. Here’s another moment of it.

“You’re here, okay?” “But I should’ve been here more. I know I can be closed off, hard.” “That’s where I get it from.”

Oh, this is making me worried for Mary. That’s an awful lot of emotional honesty and softening and I’m thinking about John in ep 300 and closure and how that ended up. Dean got to say what he did to Mary near the end of S12. “I hate you and I love you and I forgive you.” And that was why Dean needed Mary back. But Mary has stuck around for several seasons and there are still unresolved things there. Which this scene offered one step towards a resolution for. How very John paralleling of you, SPN.

Dean relating to Mary’s facade isn’t spn vilifying Dean. SPN doesn’t think Dean is actually closed off and hard, the narrative doesn’t show us that, and the authorial voices don’t believe it. Dean does however construct a facade for himself and I’m not sure how people can claim it’s vilifying Dean for SPN to remember that. (People want consistency and SPN to remember Dean’s characteristics...it does). Dean references his facade here.

Remember that Dean’s perception of himself is that he’s a hardass. The Dean we actually see--and yes SPN is not only aware of that dichotomy but plays with it consistently--is a big-hearted squishy vulnerable softie who outbursts his emotions often and does a terrible job of hiding how much he cares. But in his Dean’s own mind his face is impeccably forged.

He’s acknowledging here he realizes Mary has a facade too and her brittleness and remoteness isn’t because she doesn’t care.

I think also Dean wants to relate himself to his mom. He modeled himself on John much of his life and had to find a way to being his own person away from that shadow, but he’s actually always been more like Mary and he wants to be close to her. So here he purposefully spells out a connection between them, even though Dean isn’t really just like Mary, their facades are still a commonality.

Mary saying “I’m grateful” for all the time she gets to spend with her kids. Her adult kids. Not the babies she lost. Her children as they are.

Ohhhh something bad is going to happen I can feel it.

We get smart researchy Sam, and Mary and Dean mother-son badass hunting team. I’m sorry we haven’t seen more Mary and Dean team-ups, I’ve been waiting for that. (See why I’m nervous? There’s a lot of Dean and Mary stuff in this ep I’ve been waiting for and was denied and now getting it...Marty, I’m scared. I know how SPN operates).

So Nick is basically a complete amoral psychopath now and I am both bored yet weirdly relieved the story isn’t even going close to trying to make him someone relatable or intriguing. Nick is one of the only things most of this fandom in all lanes agrees on: he has to go. And SPN is making him as unpleasant as possible, reflecting that.

Jack and Donatello have no soul and yet they show more conscience and care of others than Nick, who has his soul still, which is raising questions in my head about how souls work on SPN and can empathy be learned even if the soul is gone. It’s not that Jack isn’t incredibly dangerous without his soul, his inner compass is completely borked. But not totally absent. Donatello also has judgment about how to treat others. But Nick...Nick is only murderous.

“Because you’re a good man. You are. It’s one of the reasons I’m so proud of you.”

We are John paralleling like mad here. Sam gets to hear Mary is proud of him. Dean gets an apology for her distance and her letting him know she appreciates being with him.

Closure, closure, closure. Something terrible is going to happen.

These Cas and Anael scenes are utterly delightful. Not just because Misha and Danneel have a great rapport but the themes the dialogue is wading into is making me rub my hands together in metaish glee.

“I believe in Heaven.”

Anael was a believer. Joshua’s right hand. She was a good soldier. Unlike Cas, it doesn’t sound like she had much inclinations to rebel. It seem unlikely Anael ever needed a reset, but like Cas, she eventually did.

“I don’t need Heaven and I don’t need God. I’m happy,” Anael says.

There’s that theme of actual happiness vs. false happiness again.

“Really?” says Cas, who we know has figured out how important bonds with others are. “Because that sounds lonely.”

“We’re all lonely because we’re all alone,” says Anael.

Well this just got deeply philosophical. We can feel alone even when we’re with others. Anael feels God abandoned everyone and she’s not wrong, and she hasn’t found a connection with others the way Cas has. And Cas, even though he has found those connections, is still a lonely figure. Isolation, alienation, feeling he doesn’t belong have been major themes with Cas for years. But Cas knows things Anael doesn’t about how life one earth works.

Oh I so am enjoying Dean kicking the crap out of Nick.

Jack is soulless yet still cares about helping Donatello.

“My father was a monster.” “He loved you...and you broke his heart.”

Shut up Nick, you manipulative psycho. Love isn’t enough. Lucifer “loves” like Thanos “loves.”

Back to Cas and Anael, “I’m doing this for Jack,” Cas says. Which he is, in part, but it’s not the only reason. Anael may have passed on coffee but she’s packing tea. “You’re doing this because you’re afraid. Because in your mind it’d be easier to call God than tell Sam and Dean Winchester the truth. Jack’s soul is gone.”

Here is my whole separate post of its own on over-protective Cas trying to shield Sam and Dean from the storms and while it’s done out love, it’s misguided and his methods of shielding them often end badly.

But if you think Jack is all Cas cares about? Jack is the only reason Cas has done anything lately? You aren’t paying close enough attention (also that’s ignoring big chunks of canon anyway but I’m talking specifically, that even some of Cas’s Jack decisions have been about protecting Sam and Dean from pain...read my post).

There’s another samulet. Cas recognizes the object most likely to be the telephone to God because it’s similar to the Winchester samulet. It’s not identical to Sam and Dean’s. Similar but different design. Slightly different purposes. One glows in the presence of God. Another acts as a voicemail system. Are there others, with other purposes, related to God?

Chuck abandoned humanity and the angels but made sure means of communicating with him were left, perhaps scattered all over the world? In case of emergencies? Was it a full abandonment?

Cas sneaking away from his family to call his father for help out of their sightline because he’s scared and worried, why is that familiar. Where have I seen that before...oh yes, Dean calling John way back in “Home” in season 1.

This while Sam and Dean are going through closure things with the Winchester parents and Cas is again looking for his absent father.

“Go home and tell Sam and Dean the truth.” GOOD PLAN, ANAEL.

I love this exchange with Cas and Anael so much. This is the whole lynchpin of what Cas has learned.

“Just because God’s not with us doesn’t mean we’re alone.” “Why? Because we all have each other?” “Yes.”

Similarly to how Dean had already accepted himself without needing John’s approval to do it, Cas has already figured out he’s not alone even though his father is a chronic abandoner.

Now Sam is beating Nick! It’s the Nick gets beaten up episode and I am so here for it. Sam doesn’t kill him of course because Sam is a good person but I am also sort of sorry Sam doesn’t kill Nick. Which I don’t think is the takeaway they intended and yet.

Sam’s Nickrage. Sam tried to see the good in him and give him the benefit of the doubt. Nick turned out to be completely amoral, and Sam was wrong. And now there’s something wrong with Sam’s shared Team Free Will adoptive child, Jack, who Sam needed to believe in. Sam has had something wrong with him and he’s not all bad, he was worth saving, others are worth it too and Sam needs to believe that. Jack maybe will vindicate Sam in this by the end while Nick is proving to Sam that isn’t always true and I think being faced with that is breaking Sam’s heart. No not everyone is worth saving. Not everyone can be saved.

It’s almost like survivor’s guilt. Sam is a good man. Sam had demon blood in him, he’s made mistakes, he’s done some terrible things, he’s been through some stuff, and he is worth saving. Sam doesn’t seem himself as worth it while others as less worthy, and he’s having trouble not over-identifying on this issue. This is a very long arc for Sam--think back to S8 and Sam talking about knowing as a child he was tainted, that he’d never qualify as a knight, as a pure hero he saw in the books about King Arthur.

But those are idealizations of the heroic paradigm. Someone can still be heroic while being tainted and imperfect. Sam’s figuring this out but he’s still struggling with the object of the proof that not everyone is worth being saved: Nick.

I am not here for Nick beating up Sam. :((((((((((

I am here for badass Dean which is always good to see.

Oh no Sam. :((((((((((((((

“Count with me.” “You always put me first. Your whole life.”

Look I know Sam won’t die-die for good yet but this is still upsetting, Dean trying to keep Sam with him and Sam deciding that should be his final words to Dean, because he’s aware of all Dean took on and he’s grateful. Sam knows. This is also a mirror flip on Dean’s head injury in Ouroboros. This made my heart ache. :(

No can we not have Lucifer back please? I adore 98% of the characters on this show, I’m serious, I am an ensemble gal, but Lucifer’s story has, for reals, played out. Nick is irredeemably awful and dull, Lucifer is boring and selfish and cruel and petulant and I’m bored. Luckily for me neither is being presented as someone I am supposed to or expected to feel sympathy for and I hope it stays that way.

Hey SPN, you’ve successfully made me feel zero sympathy for characters who I clearly am supposed to feel zero sympathy for! You did your job! But do you realize how dull this is? I’m not sure this is supposed to be so dull.

Jack just saying no to Lucifer. Bye, Lucifer! Thank you, Jack!

Thank you Jack for saving Sam!

Hey Jack’s not doing too badly for someone’s who’s soulless...oops wait. No this is not good.

Look I get the way Jack killed Nick is not good and soulless Jack is really dangerous and that was a horrible way to kill someone which Jack didn’t have to do, he could have done it mercifully and didn’t. Of course Mary is horrified witnessing that, and I would be too, but otoh thank you, Jack for dispensing with Nick who is not just murderous. Murderous can be interesting, there are lots of interesting villains out there. But he is just so boring. The drama of Mary’s distress at what Jack did is undercut a bit here because I’m not sorry someone kills Nick. I rarely ever root for any character to die, even ones I dislike (just write them off maybe) but I’m making an exception.

Really Jack’s doing me some solids in this ep.

And then a bad.

Okay, bad Jack. No, Jack, don’t hurt Mary. Which, I been knew, something bad would happen to Mary, telegraphed all ep, and there it is, after all that closure. It’s left ambiguous exactly what happened though. Is she dead? Is she banished to another AU world? Turned into a woodland creature? Was it even Jack who did it? We don’t know what exactly happened yet.

#Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Jack Kline #supernatural #Mary Winchester #Sam and Dean: a work in progress #Team Free Will 2.0 #anti-Nick #anti-Lucifer #SPN #supernatural spoilers #meta

54 notes · View notes

stateofgrace-acoustic · 5 years

Text

lover - first song ranking & thoughts

first of all i just need to say i legitimately don’t feel ‘meh’ about a single song on this album. on any other album. i always had one or two songs i was just kind of ‘take it or leave it’ about. but Lover really did that - they’re all amazing and wonderful. but here’s an attempt at an order of how much i love them!

18.��it’s nice to have a friend

this really reminds me of you are in love in the way it recounts all the small gestures and steps involved in becoming close to somebody. it’s really cute and at the perfect space on the album, leading to daylight. not a mindblowing song or anything, but the vibe fits onto lover really well. i’m glad that it’s here

17. you need to calm down

yeah, i cooled down on this one a little bit. it’s fun and the message is important, but me! is the better single tbh. still though, the feeling of empowerment this gives me over my nonexistent online haters is wonderful. and i love the attitude of the song of just looking at the assholes who live their entire lives putting energy into hating people and just being like....why are you like this. it’s pathetic. calm the hell down. so needed in our current debate culture

16. me!

a real grower! taylor and brendon urie have such good chemistry, tbh that’s really the backbone of the song. it’s just a really nice carefree spring/summertime self love song, a perfect soundtrack for when you feel happy and content with yourself.

15. the man

just dropping the complete truth on us with this one. i’ve wanted taylor to make this song for years (and i know she said she’s been wanting to but just never found the right words!) the bridge really elevates this too. and it’s sad how relatable the entire song is in literally every aspect of professional (and personal) life for women. i don’t think it’s quite as strong as it could have been, but still really solid

14. i think he knows

this is like the fun version of dress. that’s all i got to say. just as explicit, but this time around it’s super cheeky and i love it. also goals of self confidence if i’ve ever seen them

13. paper rings

the joyful energy this has!! just makes you smile and want to dance immediately, a wonderful wholesome happy bop

12. false god

listen.....this is special. i absolutely think this is the most experimental song on the album, both in terms of the music (is that a saxophone in the bg?? it’s almost got a jazzy vibe? completely uncomparable to anything she’s ever done and still so distinctly Taylor), but also with the lyrics, where she goes into the love = religion theme which honestly....as a Florence + the Machine and Hozier fan, i don’t even need to go into how much of a vibe that is. I couldn’t have imagined it working so well for Taylor though, but honestly, this song feels perfectly brooding, summertimey, melancholy, - it’s almost like taking the darker underside of Cruel Summer and exploring it in depth! this is very much a song i need to be in a Specific Mood to really appreciate, but it’s damn well made

11. afterglow

i love the maturity of this. not just the apologizing for picking a fight, but explaining how it came to be - at the end, from a place deep seated anxiety. ‘it’s all me, in my head’ (those high notes are beautiful) you can really feel how sorry she is. at the same time, the song sounds like something bigger, like an anthem - almost like that place high above that she’s trying to elevate them to.

10. i forgot that you existed

SO MUCH FUN i keep repeating that but that’s just the mood of this album tbh, playful and mature at the same time. this song is just like, when you’re over someone but you just can’t help yourself and have to throw shade one last time before moving on. i love the bouncy beat!!

9. lover

this song is literally the feeling of ‘home’ in music. so cozy, comfortable, blissful. dreamy. perfect title track. also completely timeless - i think this is one of those songs that we will look back on in years as a classic in her catalogue, a song you will always want to play again

8. the archer

this was my definite favorite of the pre released songs. anxiety, doubts, the way they all just keep coming back and eating at you, it’s described so perfectly and painfully. and the production really makes it sound like you’re in a separate space from reality, just stuck in your head trying to find a way forward, to soothe yourself. the ‘they see right through me / i see right through me’ transition in the bridge is fantastic and keeps giving me chills. so much personal connection to this one

7. soon you’ll get better

feels weird to even rank this but......just wow. the harmonies with the dixie chicks are so beautiful, and the way the lyrics talk about the feeling between denial and desperate hope, the transition from “because you have to” to “because I have to” - I have to cling to this hope, or i won’t make i - it completely broke my heart. and the fact that Taylor can conjure all these complex emotions with just a guitar and a few words is incredible. i’m so so sorry for them and i wish all the best for Andrea with my entire heart.

6. london boy

i already see people underappreciating this, what is going on??? there are multiple cute bouncy joyful songs on this album but this is my favorite because it’s just got a fantastic flow and melody, and i love all of the references to places and dialect specific words and it’s just so wholesome?? but what really makes this is (once again) the bridge. stick with ME im your QUEEN like a tennessEE stella mccartNEY, just the energy!! the fun!! excuse me while i listen to this every day for the rest of my life

5. miss americana & the heartbreak prince

okay, taylor’s brain in this one. i made a post talking about how this song has three layers - at first there’s the high school setting, then it references the ‘cancelling’ of Taylor’s public persona, but then it can also be seen as a comment on US politics and the whole climate of society right now. and it’s all tied together perfectly because high school is the perfect metaphor for this!! she’s basically saying we’re all behaving like immature school children, bullying each other for the stupidest reasons, mob mentality, stupid contests, fabricated stories made up to tear people down, and the feeling of loneliness but also fear and horror that comes with all that for the people who are the victims of it.....it’s literally all like high school in the worst way. i just love this concept, and the melody and production give me a little bit of a reputation vibe almost? which is perfect for the song, the dark dramatic vibe shows the feeling of fear most of all and that’s just....too real.

4. death by a thousand cuts

........listen, i surely didn’t think that Taylor would write one of her best breakup songs in the year of our lord 2019, but here we are. it’s once again, the small moments she recounts. taking the long way home. the uncertainty if it will ever be fine again. and the bridge/second verse / whatever that part is but that entire part. ‘paper cuts from my paper thin plans’, excuse me. the fact that she wrote this about a movie where a couple breaks up after years really shows tbh, because it’s especially that kind of....not being able to find a part of yourself that isn’t influenced by the other person, that’s so horrible and makes moving on so painful. i also love the production which makes this sound so uptempo, contrasting the lyrics! idk the entire song just clicks into place for me

3. daylight

this is like a summary of the entire album (and with the reference to the past and especially red, it’s even connecting her entire discography together). it’s like the clean of this album, except this time around it feels more complex - all the subtle references to past mistakes, ghosts, that might not be so easy to wash away. i’ve already mentioned that i love about the album (and this song especially) how it doesn’t gloss over negative experiences but addresses them directly, like looking them in the eye and then saying ‘you don’t have the power to define me’. that’s what this song feels like - it’s not unabashedly celebratory, it’s actually quite melancholic, but also full of real healing, a feeling of peace and reconciliation. and the ‘i once believed love would be black and white / burning red, but it’s golden’.....excuse me.....how dare she

2. cornelia street

god, what a magical song. the kind of episodic buildup that Taylor excels at. the vibrancy of the production matching the vibrancy of the relationship as it develops, revolving around this one place in its multiple stages, and then the repeated, deep seated fear of losing all that. it’s just. ugh. what can i even say. and so so catchy. the “listen..” killed me. just like delicate, the vibe between fear and being drunk on happiness is so so well done.

1. cruel summer

oh yes. and here we have an absolute perfection of a pop song. incredible catchiness. smart, clever lyrics but also that underlying vibe of sadness and anxiety. seriously, the complexity this has?? and then that soaring bridge, the chaotic but beautiful but painful reality of all of it coming together. ‘i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?’ idk this song just transcends everything for me friends. it’s like the vibe of out of the woods or maybe even style but the lyrics are even more sharp, they cut a little deeper, literally ‘summer’s a knife’. this is a song she only could’ve written influenced by reputation: there’s happiness but there’s that edge in it too. idk if anything i’m saying makes sense. i love this song so so so much.

#lover #taylor swift #vanessa talks #lowkey an album review lmao

3 notes · View notes

spacedimentio · 5 years

Text

Live Impressions of “Change Your Mind”

Neat, a bit of the credits music on the title card is fun and totally not ominous

Oh, this a dream. I was legit worried about Connie for a second there

That thing looks like one of those rainbow caterpillars that really little kids have that you can pull behind you with a string

!!?! I- That’s not worrisome at all, nope, no identity crisis here, oooh boy

Does that mean that Rose knew what the corruption light was? Or just that it was an attack of some kind. Cause if she knew exactly what it was then she should have probably seen it coming.

Déjà Blue is right, they’re using the exact recording/drawing I think

“No.” Damn right you’re not sorry!

Oh Blue, you really did love her, didn’t you… She looks nice with messy hair, it reflects how she feels on the inside.

That easy huh? Haha, look at her face she doesn’t know what eating is and is totally mystified and disgusted xD

Yellow time. Oh, are those…those are fusion experiments. A nice reminder of an awful thing that Yellow is responsible for.

Oh, oh shit! Blue looks absolutely mortified holy fuck

Hey, there’s the scene from the promo. “You’d hurt your fellow diamond?” “Didn’t we hurt Pink? She was suffering in silence for ages, just like our gems, just like me!” Oh man, she does know that they’re responsible for a lot of bad shit, was their behavior all just…fear?

That face Yellow just made stabbed me in the heart jesus No don’t you dumb banana what are you doing holy shit! Oh my god no she’s gonna cry and then I’m gonna cry and she really just doesn’t wanna do this

Did he really just Did he really just hit her with “If every porkchop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs” I can’t

Haha fuck yes! Yellow crying was my one wish for this ep :’D Let it all out Yellow, I’m sure Steven will give you hugs at some point Also kudos to the person that made the comic where the dialogue was almost exactly like this in regards to Yellow telling Blue to stop using her powers when she wasn’t doing anything

Oh! They’re calling him Steven now! They probably don’t get what he is still but that’s a good step

I’ve heard “You’re not going anywhere” in the commercial like 5 million times but it’s still creepy af

Oh hell no the ship did not need eyes no thank you

Ok I just thought he was trying to pull a “hey, what’s that” and run away while White looked to see what he was pointing at, but no it’s actually the two arm ships how the fuck did Bismuth fix them so fast (how long were the kids in prison jeeeeez). I like how it looks like there’s bandaids and duct tape on them lol But this might actually be a bad thing because why did you bring the arms, you’re going to make the mech stronger!

Dream: achieved! Ayyy, new designs! Nice glasses Peri, but they too big, so I like Lapis’s outfit more. I do love how you just have the lid to a garbage can, you could have found cooler things to surf on, but nope. Garbage can lid.

No don’t attach the arms that’s going to come back to bite you I just know it!

Man, the diamonds hopped on Team Steven quick, but I can’t be too upset with that because it is also what I wanted XD I guess they’ve been suffering a lot more than I thought.

That’s a nice sentiment Connie, and I’m surprised that the diamonds actually listened to what you said and considered it. Doubt it’ll work though.

Oh, they’ve still got control of their ships. I wonder how that particular bit of bullshit space magic works.

You got this Yellow! Don’t hold it in anymore! Oof, they don’t like the pressure they’re under, and they’re under a lot. The diamonds are responsible for a lot of awful things, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t conditioned and expected to fulfill their roles just as much as any other gem.

Aww, look at how Yellow is smiling, and I love how they’re holding hands! Bellow forever!

Oh that’s… Zero hesitation. Stone cold. I don’t like the way their heads flopped backwards, that’s really unsettling OK IT GOT WORSE STOP SMILING LIKE THAT D:

Steven I know you want them to reform but you should probably bubble them before…you…drop them, just like that.

I demand the BGM for this episode and will inevitably be sad when we don’t get it

Oh what, you can just do that? Fuse with a gem that’s not even formed?

o0o Rainbow 2.0! I had a guess that their weapon would be a parasol and it was even neater than I thought it would be Wow, they’re really, really British. That’s a British accent right, I’m not dumb? They’re just Mary Poppins, holy shit I love them! Jet umbrella leaves rainbow trail, ok yes thank you

Fire lady??? We fusing with everyone up in here today! Steven, in episode fucking 11: So, what’s today’s mission? I hope it’s fighting a giant foot! Today, in episode 157-160: a giant foot almost shatters everyone Well you sure got your wish buddy, are you happy?

Alright we got sunglasses mcgoo over here. Sunstone looks like a cereal box mascot I swear to god. So we’re going full “PSA mascot from the 90s”, are we. Man you are just…continually breaking the fourth wall aren’t you. Of course, Sardonyx also has the power to break the fourth wall so I guess it’s just a Future Vision+ thing. I like you Sunglasses McGoo, but I hope your weapon isn’t just suction cups or you’re never going to show up again in a fight xD

Fuckin rip Nice shades Garnet, I like what you did with your…idk what that piece of clothing is called but it’s the bit in the thin section of her body, I like the way the color goes onto her hips a little.

Oh OH SHIT IS IT REALLY TIME FOR THE LONG-THEORIZED TEMPLE FUSION That’s a lot of arms dude! Oh my god they are so cool I love them already!

Peri I love you, never don’t be ridiculous Oh geez I thought she wasn’t going to be able to catch her for a second because bismuth is a diamagnetic metal and *flashbacks of A Gem is Shattered being on the bingo card*

What’s this…staff thing? Ok that was extremely cool, your face is full of lava and you just made a sword from it. Goodbye hands I’m hearing Alexandrite’s percussion instrument in the music, that’s neat. Obsidian is also just roaring a lot, like Alexandrite.

Oh through the eyes, sure. Idk why she didn’t just close the eyelids to keep them out

With all the commotion and fusions, I totally forgot they got brainwashed, oof. It’s definitely not extremely unsettling to see them all talking at once with one voice, nope, not at all. Please stop talking, please stop talking, christ please stop talking

“But you’re a part of me” I-… Does that mean that the color theory where the other diamonds used to be part of White has more merit than I thought? Is that where they came from?

Nononono leave them alone! Oh god why

NONONONONONO STOP THAT DON’T DO THAT PLEASE DON’T DO THAT OH GOD I AM LEGIT CRYING RIGHT NOW THIS IS AWFUL

I don’t think that’s true, I’m pretty sure Pink was just a naturally social person who’s status forced her into loneliness. She just wanted some got dang friends

I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER BEEN SO CREEPED OUT IN MY LIFE. Why is this animation and these over-exaggerated faces reminding me of Cuphead. I’ve never played Cuphead but that’s what I’m thinking of.

DON’T YOU DARE GIVE THE CHILD AN EVEN WORSE IDENTITY CRISIS I AM VERY, VERY WORRIED SHE’S RIGHT

Wait, what are you doing WAIT A MINUTE NO DON’T YOU DARE DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE OH JESUS OH CHRIST THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING NONONO STOP

THEY DID IT THEY ACTUALLY FUCKING DID IT Is…is she…

(Edit from the future: Probably most of you didn’t have a commercial break after this moment, but I sure did, and I spent the entirety of those minutes with my hand covering my mouth in pure shock, tears trickling down my face. I was left to wonder…is Rose coming back? Is Steven dead? I was left with this image:

I was so astounded that I had to pause for a moment and just breathe. And christ, having to wait just a few minutes in utter shock and terror was An Experience. I feel bad for those who didn’t have a break there.)

*quickly realizes that having half the screen still black means that we’re gonna have double perspective* Oh No Oh Shit Oh No is it really gonna be her?!

Oh thank goodness. Congratulations, you now have two Steves, whatever that means

Ok Steven’s still alive, but it looks like it’s excruciating to be without his gem. I’m glad he didn’t just fall apart without the light holding his cells together. How long can he last without his…soul? Shit what do we call this, what even is this.

This is definitely not what she expected to happen. Oh jesus christ holy shit chill out dude, even White Diamond shook

It’s just…such a relief to finally know. I never believed that the show would abandon its themes of loss by having a miraculous return, but I still wanted to see her anyway. She’s gone.

So what is this guy, exactly? Does he have any conscious thought? Or is he just pure gem energy with the desire to return to his other half

“I only want you to be yourself!” Uh, White honey, you are literally doing the exact opposite thing. “I’ll do it for you!” That’s not how people work White, you are just not having a good time with this turn of events are you

That’s an…interesting shield. Who did Steven say that to, btw? Was he telling White to stop hurting them, or his other self to stop reflecting the attack? Cause White was also in the middle of being hurt, I think

Aww, they’re so happy! It’ll never not be creepy to see White’s voice coming out of Steven’s glass-eyed friends though.

Normally I don’t notice when something in a 2D cartoon is 3D animated, but that shot of White’s head was kind of jarring? I didn’t like it

Oh thank christ he’s alright! I wonder if the gemstone is gonna be turned the other way now? Wait no, it was still turned inside when we went through past reformations.

Oh wow, she’s actually just a 60 foot baby. Look at Steven and Connie laughing cause they’re getting bounced up into the air. Zing! Haha, she’s blushing so everyone’s blushing. …Ok did the ship really need to blush too, come on guys

Ok so whitewashing everyone is something you have to put some effort into controlling. She was literally putting parts of her mind into them.

Haha, good timing guys, you missed everything. Bismuth’s face tho, perfecto At least only Connie has to live with the trauma of seeing Steven get his gem ripped out.

Her face is still cracked? What…what are the cracks from if not from being mind-controlled mercilessly

Yes, congratulations, you are having an emotion. Oh, she’s actually a shade of pink now, what. There’s that color theory again. Guess whose turn it is to have an existential crisis? It’s you!

“I’m supposed to know better! I’m supposed to be better! I’m supposed to make everything better!” Wait, according to who? Theory that someone made her confirmed?

Oh hey, Beach City. It took me a good second to realize that Sadie was doing a remix of a Greg song. Cue a big-ass robot hitting the beach in three…two…one! BAM! A+ timing guys

Oh, White isn’t actually that much taller than the other two when they’re standing together like that. I could have sworn she was at least 100 feet tall, that’s a bit disappointing. Then again, it would be really hard to get her to fit in frame with everyone else. Does this mean that Pink actually might be undercooked after all? Cause when I thought White was 100 feet tall, Blue and Yellow were as proportionately small next to her as Pink was next to the two of them, but now I’m wondering again.

Me too, Ronaldo. Me too.

Uh, wow. Nice timing Lars. Those poor off-colors, it took them a million years to get to Earth and the first thing they see is all three diamonds staring at them. That sure is a mood, Rhodonite. Big mood.

Aww, Lion and Lars are gonna be bros. ‘You’re like me!’

Fucking hug each other you dumbs! God, you’re frustrating.

I demand to know how all three of them fit on the warp pad/inside Steven’s house! Tell me at once!

Oh, we’re doing this right now? I know there’s going to be a season 6, but what are we going to do in season 6? Sneeple? (Re)adjusting to earth shenanigans? Diamond family time?

Nephrites! Look at em all, I love ‘em! And Watermelon Tourmaline too! Ayy, it’s Biggs! I’ve always wondered what she looked like. Haha, if I wasn’t shipping Biggs/Bismuth before I sure am now.

Jasper! Wow that only took like two years for her to show up again. Also I just realized that everyone looks weird because they still have traces of corruption on them and not because they were Like That in the first place.

Oh boy Jasper, you’ve…you’ve missed a lot. I wanna know what Amethyst just told her that made her hide in the water in shame.

Boy that one in the middle with all the different colors is scaring me a little

It’s kind of funny how White Diamond went from Massively Threatening, Narcissistic Perfectionist to Completely Lost Almost Cute Child in a snap. I actually feel bad for killing her off in my fic now, whoops. Ah well, it’s an AU anyway so I’m not gonna retcon anything.

Alright who taught Yellow to make a peace sign

Alright who parked the legs on the cliff like that

All the songs in this arc have been named after the episode title they appear in, nice. I’m kind of disappointed that we didn’t get another diamond song but maybe that’s for later (a song about how everything is confusing now? or maybe about how they let Pink down and suffered themselves)

Welp, that’s a wrap. It is now once again time for hiatus. Yellow continues to be my favorite diamond after Pink; I really hope they all come visit Steven and learn stuff. I’m actually very surprised that they jumped ship so easily; it seems that they might understand that what they do is wrong but they do it anyway cause that’s what’s expected of them. Seems they were suffering a lot more than I thought, and I already thought they were hurting quite a bit.

And that brings me to the biggest question I have. Much like Blue and Yellow, White was acting as if someone told her to do this; it’s like she’s a rogue AI who’s original creators are long gone. I don’t know if I wanna see what White’s afraid of, cause up until the last 10 minutes or so of this ep she was the scariest thing I’d ever seen.

Who made White Diamond?

#steven universe #reaction #spoilers #su spoilers #change your mind

24 notes · View notes

irondevilpunisher · 6 years

Text

A Saved Dance

Karedevil One-shot

Premise: AU in which anguished teenage Matt Murdock finds himself in Vermont and unexpectedly bonds with a girl he saves named Karen Page.

****

Vermont, it seemed like a good idea at the time. These days Matt Murdock was looking for places to escape. Forget the past. Forget all about the pain entwined with his father’s death and Stick abandoning him. And especially avoid his irritating anomalies thanks to that freak accident when he was ten. Giving him unique heightened senses which only further alienated him from the rest of the world. Matt just didn’t want to deal with it anymore nor stay in New York. Too many memories and harsh realities. And Matt was sick of everyone’s pity over his blindness which never held him back from his academic achievements and his ability to fight like a ninja warrior.

But no matter what he did to fill that void of loneliness, reading, training at his father’s gym, running on rooftops or attending mass at his Catholic church; none of it helped. The only thing Matt could think of at the time was...taking his saved allowance, leaving the orphanage he’d been staying at for six years and hopping the Greyhound out of Hell’s Kitchen. Careful to deflect suspicion that he was a runaway. A skill that came in quite handy during Stick’s teachings. If he could successfully block out nightmares, slept most the way. Never did Matt imagine winding up in Vermont of all places though. It wasn’t even his first choice of destination.

He couldn’t see it the way everyone else did but he did sense its exquisite hi-def details. This place was so much quieter than the noisy filled streets he was used to back in New York. Calmer and more serene despite detecting cows mooing in the distance. Crisp autumn air, maple trees mixed with fresh baked pumpkin pies filled Matt’s lungs whenever he breathed, painting the picture of a humble little farming community. It was peaceful here but Matt had to admit combing the sidewalk with his cane and backpack slung over his shoulder, he missed the darkness he felt back in Hell’s Kitchen. It was easier to be discreet from casual observers whenever he did his rooftop routines. Easier to be alone.

“Hey stop it!” He suddenly heard a girl’s voice cry out in peril. “Give that back!”

Matt had been stalking around town all afternoon until twilight, finding himself parked in front of a chain-linked fence to what he sensed was a school. And judging by the rowdy pop music blasting from building at this late hour, some festivities were taking place. Possibly a themed dance. Not really his scene though he’d never actually been to one and couldn’t help feeling at little curious at the time. That changed the second he heard her voice calling for help, provoking Matt to jump the fence like a super athlete and charging in the direction of the three young assailants.

They were around the corner of the school building,he picked up sounds of fiendish chortles and chatter among the boys. Matt figured this girl’s harassers had stolen something pretty valuable, a hair clip, childishly tossing it back and forth while she attempted to retrieve it. That didn’t go so well. She was pushed down on the ground with a loud THUD! At that moment Matt intervened.

“Hey!” Matt barbed, tightly grasping his cane. “I think you better leave her alone.”

“Oh and who’s gonna make us?” jeered one of the boys. Matt could tell he was taller and a little bit older than him. Built like a football player. In between taunts the bully paused and Matt’s brows furrowed. Practically feeling this kid’s gawking eyeballs on his white cane. “I’m not into hitting cripples Dude, so take a hike.”

Matt firmly stood his ground. These boys didn’t intimidate him. “Not until you return this girl’s property. Then I’ll leave.”

“Last warning chump, get out of here!”

“You heard what he said this has nothing to do with you!” spat another boy.

“Like I said,” Matt taunted with a dark smirk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could hear hands closing into lethal fists. These’s boys were looking to mess with him. “Then I guess it’s your funeral.” One of them growled.

Normally Matt hated getting involved in random altercations, it went against his personal morals but for some reason he just couldn’t ignore this. He could’ve easily taken the high road and just verbally persuaded them to do the right thing. Wouldn’t have had to resort to humiliating these punks; effortlessly countering all their assaults, blocking oncoming punches and reversing each attack impressively with his own. Occasionally using his cane as a weapon. Left, right, he repeated the steps in his mind; maneuvering with the agile and speed of a gymnast. Nonetheless Matt’s intentions weren’t to hurt these boys yet he couldn’t deny the satisfaction it was giving him.

“So do you feel like returning this girl’s property now?” Matt snarled breathlessly, gripping the main boy’s elbow into a backwards hold as the other two kids groaned in pain. “Or do I have to snap your arm?”

“F-FINE! Fine I’ll do it!” he whimpered. “Just don’t hurt me anymore man!”

“Good answer.”

Releasing the punk, he stayed true to his word handing the girl’s hair clip to Matt then he and his buddies resumed to limping off their shame. Matt chuckled in his throat wiping off some blood residue from his mouth, listening as their scurrying footprints faded into a deafening silence. He was alone again...isolated as he’d liked it...well except for a delicate yet rapid beating chest not belonging to him.

“Its alright.” He reassured. “You don’t have to be afraid. They’re gone.”

As Matt went to retrieve his cane off the grass, a sweet voice so weightless like a dove’s feather tickled his ear.

“Thank you.” She said. Matt could’ve sworn his heart stopped and was now in the presence of an angel as vanilla soap and apple permeated his nostrils. Her voice was so pure it shone light through the pitch-blackness. And there was something oddly soothing about this girl’s presence while she slowly approached. “I didn’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t...Timmy and those guys are such jerks.”

Exhaling he nearly forgot to breathe in his response. “Are you okay?”

“Better...now.” Matt didn’t have to assume she nodded saying this. From what he could tell she was two years younger than him, at least thirteen or fourteen yet carried herself quite mature for most girls her age. “Haven’t seen you around town before. You just move here with your folks?”

“Uh..no.” He swallowed bowing his head. “I’m just passing through.”

Strangely enough the girl didn’t press him. “Yah I know the feeling.”

“You do?”

“I feel like escaping sometimes myself.” Said the girl. Just as he thought the conversation would end there she asked. “H-how did you do that anyway?”

Matt was taken aback. “Do what?” Throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

“Where did you learn those moves? That was amazing.”

“Secret.” he grinned handing over the hair clip which she took. No way he was ever going to tell her the blind old man who trained him like an assassin. “I think this belongs to you.”

“Yah its...it was my mom’s.” she confessed, voice going somber as he heard her fingers sweep through her long blond locks. “I wanted to wear it for the dance tonight. Didn’t expect Timmy Atkins to just rip it out of my hair and play hot potato with it.”

Matt perked up. “So you are at a dance.” He guessed right after all. “I figured as much. Seemed a little late for school to be in session.”

The girl laughed politely.

“Oh I definitely think its way past that.” Then she held out her hand. “I’m Karen.”

“Matt.” He reciprocated the handshake gesture.Touch of her skin was soft and warm like silk he didn’t want to let go.Then again it was getting late and he needed to find a place to crash for a while. “Well...I guess I better be going.”

“Wait!” Karen called after him as he turned to leave. “You don’t have to leave. Why don’t you stay, we could...go back into the dance?”

“Nah its not really my thing.” Matt faltered. “Besides I don’t even go to your school and you just met me.”

“Oh...right.”

Matt didn’t need sight to detect the whiff of disappointment in her vocal cords and the beating of her heart. Karen let out a melancholy sigh which in turn prompt him to change his mind. Sure this whole thing seemed a little awkward and he preferred his isolation but for some reason he enjoyed her company.

“I...guess I could stick around a little longer.”

Karen’s body temperature rose delightedly. “Really?”

“Sure why not. I’ve got nothing better to do” Matt verified, balancing his weight on the cane. “What do you suggest?”

“We could...walk over to the gazebo in the garden and talk?” Karen proposed.

“Okay.”

Offering to take his hand, Karen led Matt through the grass back onto the gravel path towards the back of the building. Careful not to trip on her pale blue dress. At first neither of them knew what to say then a conversation started forming. Karen told Matt all about her life in Vermont. Informing him of her friends at school and some of her hobbies. Matt on the other hand was a little hesitant sharing parts of himself in the beginning. When she finally asked about his disability, omitting certain details like his heightened senses, he would explain how he saw things from a different perspective.

He noticed the way she would marvel at him curiously, listening to his voice. It was flattering. Matt felt he’d made his first sincere connection with another person. And it was mutual for Karen. Arriving at the gazebo they sat down on the bench together. However Matt’s heart sank wishing he could see this place the way she did. A magnificent pavilion structure, octagonal shaped arches with dozes of flowers spilling around it according to Karen’s description. Sucking up the sweet aroma Matt depicted the scent of stonecrops, yarrow and daises. The smell of Autumn his favorite season.

When the evening got chillier Matt offered his flannel shirt to Karen. If he'd thought of wearing a jacket he would've preferred to give her that.

“So...where are you going?” Karen queried spontaneously.

Matt turned to her with a baffled expression. “What?”

“You’re carrying around that backpack full of stuff.” she noticed him gripping the bag under one arm. “You must be going someplace.”

He froze and Karen realized she’d gotten too evasive.

“Sorry I didn’t meant to pry.”

“No its fine.” he said uncertainly. “I guess I just...needed to get away for awhile.”

“From your family?”

Matt’s lips tightened in a straight line.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Karen assured him. Then she hugged her knees to her chest. “Sometimes I wanna disappear to a private island. I use to write stories about it all the time.”

Matt’s head poignantly ticked. “You did?”

“Yah, I really want to be a writer someday. What about you?”

“I going to be lawyer.” he replied confidently, it was the one thing he was sure about. “I’ve been reading law books since I was ten. It’s all I’ve wanted to do.”

“That’s great! I’m sure you’d be good at that.”

“How so?” Matt laughed. “We only just met.”

“Its just a feeling I get...when I’m around you.” Karen smiled gently bumping her shoulder into his. Before she had the chance to say something further a slow song interrupted the calm atmosphere, pouring from outdoor speakers of the school. It was doleful in melody, almost depressing yet Matt knew it. Hearing it once on the radio back at the orphanage. Everything by Lifehouse. “I like this song.”

“It’s okay.” Matt half shrugged.

Then he felt Karen’s body brush passed him as she climbed to her feet.

“Want to dance?” she asked holding out her hand.

His tongue tied. “What right now?”

“Yah I’ve got one last dance saved in me. Want to?”

Matt fumbled in his seat debating whether this was a good idea or not. He didn’t want to tell her he had two left feet let alone he’d never been to a school dance. Sure Matt had graceful rhythm and technique when it came to fighting but when it came to dancing? He floundered. About to decline the gesture when Karen took the decision out of his hands and yanked him up.

“I’m not really good at this.” Matt admitted sluggishly. Glancing downward.

“You don’t need to be.” Karen told him gently, placing his hands at her waist and embracing her’s around his neck. He could hear her heart racing almost in-sync with his. And his cheeks flustered. “All you do is...fall into the music and let go.”

He nodded. Holding her in his arms and they began to sway sideways, occasionally turning in a counter-circle. Matt to his surprised stopped thinking. He didn’t even step on her toes. His focus remained with her. A girl he’d just met but felt like he’d known his whole life. She stared at him hypnotically and subtly moved closer into his space. This made him nervous, mouth parting, but he didn’t resist. Chest to chest, Karen leaned her head against his shoulder closing her eyes.The smell of her hair was so fragrantly rich in vanilla. He could lose himself in that scent if he wasn’t careful. Then unexpectedly Matt’s feet stopped and Karen glanced skyward.

“Is everything okay Matt?” she asked him.

“Its perfect.” he said softly.

KAREN! Karen!

Suddenly the mood spoiled when they heard other girl voices coming from behind them. Startled Karen disengaged herself from Matt’s grasp and spun towards the people calling her name. Apparently she recognized them and probably had to go back. It was her life anyway not his. She was too nice to get wrapped up in his crazy, messed up world. As he listened to her shuffle down the steps towards the voices of her friends, Matt seized the opportunity to grab his things and split from the gazebo. He hated leaving her like this, she deserved an explanation. But being so flaky these days he didn’t have it in him to do so.

Instead he hopped the chain-linked fence and looked over his shoulder one final time.

“Goodbye Karen...thanks for the dance.”

#karedevil #karedevil squad #matt murdock #karen page #daredevil #matt x karen #karedevil one-shot #irondevilpunisher fanfics #marvel's daredevil #karedeviledit #mattandkaren #mattkaren fanfic #karedevil fanfic #karedevil angst and fluff #fanfiction

28 notes · View notes