#anyways it filled me with such a deep love for the music of the series that would blossom into love of the games themselves | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-offside-rule · 4 months

Text

Drivers while their s/o studies

Just a mini series I felt like doing. : )

Charles Leclerc

Charles smiled as he entered the room, holding a tray with snacks and coffee for Y/n who had been sitting at her desk since that morning. "Hello mom cœur, I thought you might need a little pick-me-up while you work." He said, placing the tray on the table. Y/n looked up from her laptop, a grateful smile forming. "Oh what would I do without you?" She said as she held his face and peppered soft kisses onto it as he emptied the tray onto the desk. "Cry, maybe." He joked.

Charles sat down beside her and began eating a protein bar before Y/n continued on typing. "How's it going anyway?" he asked, genuinely interested. "It's a bit overwhelming, but I'll manage. Your snacks will definitely help." She replied, taking a sip of the coffee. Charles chuckled. "I believe in you. I'll leave you to it for a bit, though. I'm going to meet Lorenzo and Arthur in the gym. You know how it is."

Y/n nodde. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be here when you get back." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before heading out. "Take breaks, okay? Don't overwork yourself." He reminded her. "Of course, love. Have fun and give them my best!" As he left, Y/n couldn't help but smile. The small gestures made studying a lot more enjoyable, and she felt lucky to have Charles by her side.

Max Verstappen

Max woke up to an empty bed, the confusion evident on his face. Rubbing his eyes, he ventured into the living room, where he found Y/n engrossed in her laptop. Y/n spotted him from the corner of her eye and smiled at his sleepy face. "Morning, sleepyhead. Slept well?" She teased, looking up from her work. Max chuckled, and walked over to her. "Yeah, until I realized I was all alone." He placed a kiss atop of her head and peered over her shoulder. "What are you up to?"

"Got an assignment to finish, but you can keep me company." She suggested with a smile. Max raised an eyebrow. "Company? I was expecting a romantic morning, not a work session." Y/n laughed, "Well, I can't help it. University." He rolled his eyes. "I told you, you should have just gave in to being a stay-at-home girlfriend and now here we are with you leaving me I'm bed to work." Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke. "Well if you loved me you would sit right here with me and keep me company, like a good temporary stay-at-home boyfriend?" Undeterred, Max decided to make the best of the situation. "Fine, but how about some breakfast first? I'll cook."

As Max prepared breakfast, they bantered back and forth, the kitchen filled with laughter. Sitting down on the sofa with their plates, Max linked his phone to the TV and began watching his race upcoming debrief that Red Bull had sent him. Y/n glanced at the screen every so often, finding it unbelievably distracting and whilst he had to watch it for work, why couldn't he just watch it on his phone?"Mind turning that off? I need to focus." Max pouted playfully. "Aw, come on. It's just background noise." She shook her head, "No, it's distracting. I need to concentrate."

A minor disagreement ensued, but Max, ever the compromiser, reached a resolution. "Fine, wear these," he said, handing her a pair of headphones. "You study, I watch my debrief." Y/n huffed, taking the headphones, "Deal. Just don't complain if I fail my exam because of this." Max grinned. "Deal, as long as you promise we actually so something romantic later on." Y/n grinned and connected her headphones to the laptop and began playing her music.

Lando Norris

Lando was deep into his online stream, enthusiastically commentating on his latest race in the virtual world. Meanwhile, Y/n diligently studied in the living room, trying to concentrate despite the growing noise. At first, it was fine because he only had Max on a voice call and then they started playing the F1 games and inviting drivers, and it all went to chaos.

The usual loudness was just about starting to sound normal until she heard a loud screeching from the streaming room. Y/n finally reached her limit. She threw her laptop to the side and stormed into the streaming room, wearing a bitter expression. Lando turned, smiling before the smile turned into a grim look. He...was...fucked. "Hi babe." He said quietly. "Lando, could you please keep it down a bit? I'm trying to study out here." She said calmly. She didn't want fans making up rumours about an argument.

Lando, still wearing his headset, looked guilty. "I will try, but Max is-" She cut him off. "Lando, you will be quiet. I cannot fail these exams. I just need you to be quiet. Understood?" He nodded. "I'm sorry, babe. I got carried away. I'll tone it down." The serious expression turned to a light hearted smile, before she looked to the computer, smiled and waved to greet the chat, before leaving.

Lando continued on playing, listening to the chaos on the call and not acting up. But the guilt lingered, and he suddenly had to leave the stream momentarily. "Hey, guys? I'll be right back. Just need to grab a drink, I'll be back in a sec. Promise." He announced to his fellow drivers and viewers before leaving the room. He rushed to the kitchen, returning to the living room with a peace offering of snacks and energy drinks for his girlfriend who sat on her bean bag with her study sheets sprawled across the coffee table. She looked up quickly before looking back to her work and continuing on typing. "I'm really sorry, Y/n. Here, I got you some goodies. Let me make it up to you." Lando said, kneeling down beside her and leaving a small plate of biscuits and sweets beside her. She looked between the plate and Lando, seeing the sincerity in his expression before she chuckled, accepting the snacks. "You're lucky you're cute when you're sorry. Just try to keep it down, okay?"

"Okay, I promise." He said, pecking her cheek and running back to the livestream with his can of Monster. Back in the streaming room, Lando continued his broadcast. He scrolled through the chat, noticing a comment from Y/n.

Thanks for the biccies, lovey <3 Good luck with your stream!

His fans erupted in supportive comments, finding the situation adorable. Lando couldn't help but smile, covering his face from how hard he was blushing. "You better leave me some 9f them biscuits, Y/n." Lando said into the camera. "Let's get back to the race, shall we?" The stream continued, with a more considerate Lando and a grateful Y/n watching from the sidelines.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

As the creatures and people of Madrid lay asleep in their beds, Y/n sat on her laptop working away beside her boyfriend who had just come back from a race weekend on the other side of the globe. Carlos stirred in his sleep, as the soft glow of Y/n's laptop pierced the darkness. "What are you doing?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Y/n glanced at him, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "Sorry, babe. Got a deadline. Can't sleep." He sighed, and turned his back so he would be able to get even a glimpse of sleep. "Alright, just keep it down, please." He whispered. "Yes sir, Mr Sainz." She yawns, still typing.

In the morning, Carlos awoke to Y/n still typing away in their bed, exhaustion evident in her eyes. She got a lot of work done and had work in three hours. "Morning." He whispered, kissing her hand before sitting up. "Morning. Did you sleep alright?" Y/n asked. "Other than that one time you woke me, yes. Did you sleep at all?" Carlos asked. Y/n shook her head. "You should get some sleep before work. Finish this when you get home, yeah?" Y/n sighed in defeat. She wouldn't be able to go to work if she was this tired. Maybe a two hour sleep wouldn't hurt? " Carlos nodded, taking her laptop, placing it on the bedside table and tucking her into bed, . "You need to rest." He insisted. "I will wake you before work, mi amor." She reassured her, kissing her hair and letting her fall asleep.

When Y/n awoke, she looked out to see that the sun was awfully bright for 8am. Then she turned and saw Carlos walking into the room with a tray of coffee and toast. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked, sitting up. Carlos paused and looked at her. "Breakfast?" He replied in a question. Y/n looked at her phone, her eyes wide. "Oh my god! It's half past 11. I'm so fucking late!" She said. "No you aren't." Carlos replied, placing the tray on his locker. "I had work two hours ago!" She protested.

Carlos shook his head. "I called your boss, said you were sick." Y/n's eyes widened to what he had said. "Why'd you do that?" She asked. "Because you needed it." He replied, pulling the duvet over them and putting his arm around Y/n. "Carlos, I cant-" He cut her off. "Should we watch Berlín? It's meant to be really good." He said, flicking through the Netflix. "Babe. I'm serious. I need to go to work." She said. "And I have said before; you could quit work and I'll take care of you. You won't quit but I am still gonna take care of you. Now stay with me in bed and help me pick a series for us to watch."

She stopped complaining and lay in his arms. "Yeah. Berlín sounds good." She mumbled quietly. "Good, now here's some toast."

George Russell

George had brought Y/n to race weekends before, but this time, she found herself confined to the team's hospitality area, engrossed in her upcoming exams. She looked up to the TV evey so often to see how her boyfriend was doing before turning her attention back to her laptop. Like an angel sent, George decided to check in on her in between sessions, finding her buried in textbooks and notes.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked, pressing a kiss onto her head and leaning on the table. Y/n looked up, tired but determined. "Just trying to survive this study session. Well done on topping the session by the way." George grinned. "It's only the second practise. I think we know what strategy we're going for in qualifying though." He chuckled. "Have you eaten?" Y/n thinks for a moment and shakes her head. "You do know, you need to eat too."

She sighed, burying her head in her hands from exhaustion. "I know, I just lost track of time. Can you grab me something?" George smiled. "Of course." He replied, leaving momentarily and heading to the barista bar. He returned moments later with a croissant and a latte, placing them in front of her. "Fuel for the brain." he said with a smile. Y/n looked up at him appreciatively, "You're my hero, Mr Russell. Thank you so much."

"No problem. I know how important these exams are for you." He replied, sitting beside her. As she sipped the latte and nibbled on the croissant, George and her began talking. "Anything I can help with? Maybe a quick break to clear your mind?" Y/n smiled. "You being here is already a huge help. But maybe a motivational speech wouldn't hurt."

"Im not doing motivational speeches." They both burst into laughter, lightening the mood in the cozy hospitality space. George wrapped his arm around Y/n, offering comfort and support. "You're the best distraction," she admitted, leaning into him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Lance Stroll

Lance sighed as he opened the door to his bedroom after his return from the gym to find Y/n looking a bit frustrated. He arched a brow as he sipped from his water bottle and decided to approach her, concern evident in his eyes. "What's wrong, babe?" He asked, sitting down beside her. She sighed. "I'm not sure, but I just can't study. Maybe it's just because of how different it is from studying in my office back home." Lance thought for a moment."How about you use my office? It's quiet, and you'll have all the space you need." He suggested. "Oh no, I couldn't." She replied. "No, seriously. I never use it anyway."

Y/n's face lit up with gratitude as Lance led her to his office. The room was filled with shelves displaying Lance's collection of racing helmets and trophies. The large floor-to-ceiling window revealed a breathtaking snowy landscape of their estate. "This is perfect." Y/n whispered, finding the desk facing the wonderous view. Lance smiled, happy to help her. "If you need me just call. I'm just gonna hit the shower." He said, pressing a kiss onto her cheek. "Thank you, babe." She grinned, setting her stuff down. "Anytime." He shot back before leaving and making his way to his bathroom to shower.

Y/n had gotten a lot done since she sat down. The view was a perfect distraction but not too distracting that she couldn't focus. If anything, it was there to just calm her down before getting right back to it. An hour passed, and Lance returned with snacks, finding Y/n engrossed in her studies. "Hey, how are you getting on?" He asked, peering through the door. "Doing good, Lancelot. I am doing good." She smiled, still jotting down some notes. He walked in with a tray of snacks. In between him showering and him walking around the kitchen, he decided Y/n needed to take a break and made up a snack tray to bring her.

"Need a study break?" he asked, handing her a twix. Y/n grinned, "Definitely. Thanks for this, Lance. This office is amazing." Lance chuckled, "Well, it's only fair you get a taste of my world too. Plus, I like having you happy." As they enjoyed their snacks, the conversation turned from how everyone in the house has an office to the trophies and helmets on the walls.

"You know-" Lance began, taking down his Balu trophy from back in 2017. "This one's from my first podium. I was so excited that day." Y/n smiled as she sipped her cola. "I can see why. You've got an impressive collection of trophies, Lancey." He looked at her warmly. "But none of them compare to having my trophy girlfriend. I worked my ass off to even get you on a date." Y/n laughed. "I'm serious! You kept saying no!"

"You should've taken the hint." Y/n replied. "Then who would be sat in this office?" Lance asked. "I don't know. One of those weird models that throw themselves at you, I guess." She joked. "Yeah, but I prefer you." Lance said. There grew a comfortable silence before Lamce stood up, collecting the wrappers off the snacks and putting them back onto the tray. "I guess it's time for you to get back to studying." Lance said. "Thank you for the company." Y/n smiled as Lamce leaned down to give her a kiss. "How about we watch a movie later and order takeout? Sound good?" Lance suggested. Y/n nodded. You really are a dream."

396 notes · View notes

whxtedreams · 2 months

Text

Chapter one - Fuckin' Tourists

Lovesick In Jackson

Summary: Your first day in Jackson, meeting a rather rude local and settling into your new home

Word Count: 4,5k

tags: Ellie being Ellie, Joel being a caring father figure, Joel being an ashole to everyone but Ellie, Ellie does mention not wanting to eat (let me know if i miss any)

an. thank you so much for all the love on the prologue! Im stoked you guys are just as excited for this fic as I am to write it! I hope you like it :)

if you saw me post this without the cut and photos - no you didn’t.

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

The inn is warm and inviting as you step through the heavy front door, the heat from the lit fireplace warming your icy skin as you enter the building. While winter has almost come and gone, and the spring season teases its arrival, the fresh cold air that lingers outside still covers the land with its icy grip. You take in a deep breath as the warmth from inside envelopes you, savoring the warmth as you admire the rustic interior of the small inn.

Fire crackles from the fireplace, a light glow filling the room. The light dances on the display of unique mugs that hang with grace from the wooden beams that line the ceiling above you. Fairly lights are strung up and intertwined with vines around the beams, adding to the soft and warm glow of the room.

You wander into the middle of the room, your fingertips tracing the small crevices and grooves that line the wooden tables. The table feels smooth under your touch, the wood itself worn down and smooth as well. Setting down your backpack on the stool beside you, you roll your stiff shoulders and hear your bones cracking with relief as they loosen up again. The long train ride across state lines had been tough, with your body screaming to stretch and move after only an hour of being confined in the cramped cabin.

The clock above the fireplace ticks, catching your attention as you read the time. You frown to yourself as you look back around the empty bar. The clock had just ticked over nine-thirty, you would have expected at least one person in the bar at this time of night.

You turn at the sound of a door opening as a soft hummed tune flows through the room. A girl with black hair tied in a bun and a light dust of freckles littering her face walks through a door behind the bar. Her eyes are cast down to a glass shes cleaning with a rag and with a smile on her face as she slowly sways to the music playing in her headphones.

“Excuse me?” You try to gain her attention without startling her, but your effort is futile as she turns away from you and sets the glass down before grabbing another.

You lean against the bar with your arms crossed, your eyes roaming the room as you wait for her to turn back around. Suddenly, there's a startled gasp, as if caught in surprise. She yanks the headphones out of her ears, and her breath is labored with shock. She stares back at you, her eyes meeting yours for the first time.

“Oh fuck, I didn’t hear you come in.” She lets out a huff of a laugh, her mouth twitching into a smile as she realises her mistake.“I’m sorry about that,” she says, apologetically throwing her headphones on the bar in front of you and leaning against it with her hands. “We don’t normally get people in this late on a Tuesday” She shrugs, her face and body language seemingly relaxed despite the initial shock.

“That’s okay, I’m normally not out this late if I’m honest.”

“No? So what’s got you visiting the great Firefly Inn this late at night?” She smirks as she leans over the bar.

“Dina stop flirting with the poor girl.” Another girl teases as she walks out of the back room, rolling her eyes as she jumps to sit on the counter behind Dina.

Dina scoffs.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend anyway?” Ellie leans over and takes an apple from the fruit bowl, raising her eyebrows at her friend.

Dina turns around and snatches the apple from her hand before she’s able to take a bite and takes a bit for herself as Ellie frowns at her.

“No actually, we broke up again.” She shrugs as she takes another bite of the apple.

“Again?” Ellie groans, leaning back until her head hits the wall behind her.

You look between the two teenagers, feeling like you’re imposing on their private conversation. You wait patiently for one of them to acknowledge your presence, but they continue to bicker back and forth like children. They seem almost oblivious to any other presence besides their own, their voices growing louder and their playful arguments becoming more passionate with each turn of phrase.

“Is there any chance I could get a room for the night?” You attempt to break their conversation and their heads snap in your direction, successfully silencing them.

There’s a moment of awkward silence as the three of you stare at each other, no one seeming to know what to say or do. Your request finally registers in Dina’s head, and she smiles slightly in embarrassment, breaking the tension between the three of you.

“Oh fuck. Yeah of course.” She mumbles as she dashes into the room out the back and returns with a thick book you assume is for the bookings.

Dina scribbles down your details while Ellie crunches on the apple she successfully stole back from her friend, her smug smile suggesting that the victory tasted a lot sweeter than the apple itself.

Dina leads you up a set of stairs to the second level of the inn, the candles that line the narrow hallway casting a soft and flickering glow around the vicinity. She unlocks an adjacent room and hands you the key, the space itself offering a warm and cozy atmosphere that feels more like a private home than a room at an inn.

You mumble a thanks as you step into the room, about to close the door behind you. Dina's foot suddenly blocks your attempt, jamming the door from closing completely. She smiles sweetly at you as you glare at her through the crack in the door, the exhaustion from the journey and the teenager starting to wear on your patience.

“Breakfast is at eight, if you want any.” She offers and removes her foot from the door and disappears down the dimly lit hallway.

“Weird.” You sigh as you close the door, making sure to lock it.

The town square is buzzing with activity as you walk down the main street, the morning's chill and overcast skies making the townsfolk more eager to get to their destinations inside the warmth of the next building.

Children are out and about, laughing and racing on their bikes as they speed by you with little to no regard towards any other pedestrians in their way. They seem to be racing each other to get to school in time, their speed increasing with each turn in the road.

With the dull gray skies overhead, the fairy lights strung across the town square provide a much-needed burst of warmth and cozy charm to the town's atmosphere. The lights glow dimly and softly, reflecting off of the damp pavement and casting a gentle glow against the trees and other surfaces that the lights have been tied to. You find yourself smiling at the sight, drawn in by the comforting atmosphere of the town and the familiar charm of the lights. You could definitely see yourself making a life here, and the thought makes you feel a sense of calm and happiness.

You don’t remember living here as a child, but you would have remembered this.

Your eyes scan across the town square as if searching for something to give you a further boost of energy after the tiredness of the morning, and there it is. A coffee shop sign, the words and colors of the sign beckoning you in like a magnet. You let out a yawn that seemingly came from your bones, your eyelids feeling heavier and your body screaming for a caffeine boost to help pick you up.

The bell above the door rings as you enter the cafe, the soft jingle announcing your presence. It's a small and quaint cafe on the inside with a few tables scattered throughout the middle of the shop. Brown leather couches are pushed up against a rustic brick wall where an older woman is seated with a book in her hands. The atmosphere is warm and welcoming, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the cafe.

Walking up to the display case, you notice it’s full of pastries and cakes and your mouth waters at the sight.

You hear the familiar ding of the bell as it rings again, grabbing your attention from the mouth watering food. Ellie, the girl from last night, walks in with an older man following in behind her. He looks just as tired as you feel, his dark brown eyes heavy with sleep as he holds the door open as she passes through, and she gives him a small smile in return before she bee-lines to the counter. There’s a smirk on her face as she leans over the counter, reaching for the bell and obnoxiously hitting the bell.

“I thought I hid that.” The tired sigh of the barista behind the counter is a testament to the constant and obnoxious dinging of the bell. His back is turned as he finishes making a drink, seemingly used to the incessant noise that constantly plagues his ears.

“Not well enough Jesse boy.” She draws out his name, as if to mock him and his inability to hide the bell. There are a few annoyed glances from other customers who are growing resentful of her loud and disruptive behavior, but she remains unfazed as she continues to hit the obnoxious bell as if it were a toy.

The older man that walked in with her shakes his head in disappointment as he reaches over and takes the bell from her. A small frown settles on her face as she watches him take it from her, her mood being spoiled as she realizes she cannot continue her disruption. She lets out a small and annoyed huff as he places the bell on top of the display case, where his eyes meet yours for a brief moment. His face settles in a soft frown as he looks at you, muttering fuckin’ tourist under his breath before returning his attention to the girl by his side.

Your face shows your shock at the rudeness of the older man, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You shake your head in disbelief, still unable to process that someone could behave so rudely to a stranger. “Grumpy old man” You mutter under your own breath.

You look back down at the pastries, feeling a bit put off after the interaction but still considering what to buy.

“Come on kiddo, enough of that.” He mutters as he digs his wallet from his back pocket.

Hmm, maybe a croissant, or a muffin?

The barista turns around with a grin, pushing two mugs onto the counter. “A hot chocolate for the troublemaker,” he says, gesturing to Ellie as he pushes the mug towards her. “And a black coffee for the poor tired soul that has to put up with her,” he jokes, pushing the second mug towards the older man standing beside her.

Maybe a cinnamon roll?

“You got that right.” The man softly chuckles as he takes out his card.

“Whatcha say Joel, you want your usual breakfast or are you finally going to try something else? We make mean waffles here.”

“Just the bacon and eggs.”

The muesli slice looks good.

“Alright, alright. I’ll change your mind one of these days.” The barista, Jesse, sighs with a grin as he taps the order into the tablet. “What about you Ellie?” He asks without looking up from the screen.

“Nah, not hungry.”

“Oh come on kid, you gotta eat something.”

“I’m not hungry Joel.” She shrugs as she crosses her arms over her chest.

A woman with dark brown hair boxed braided and tied neatly into a bun walks in, her eyes quickly scanning the crowded café until they land on you. Her eyes instantly lock onto yours, her warm smile signaling that you're the person she's looking for. She politely asks, "Am I right to assume you're Rose's granddaughter?"

"Oh, yeah that's me." You respond awkwardly, a bit taken aback by the familiarity of the woman's question. You have no idea who this woman is or why she's so familiar with you, and she seems to know more about you than you do about her.

“I thought so. I’m Maria, the Mayor of Jackson. I knew Rose very well,” She smiles warmly, her hand resting on your shoulder as she mentions your grandmother. “I’m sorry about what happened, she was a lovely lady.”

You nod along to her words, a vague sense of familiarity dawning on you as you try to recall where you heard that name before. As she continues to offer her condolences, you remember her name from the letter your grandmother sent you. You thank her for her condolences and look back at the display case.

“I recommend the white chocolate and raspberry muffin.” She points to the muffin and you nod at her offer. “I get it every morning.”

Jesse takes one of the white chocolate muffins from the display and places it into a paper bag, placing it on the counter alongside a takeaway coffee. “All ready for you Maria.” He calls out and she politely dismisses herself from your conversation.

You watch from the side as she pays and thanks the young boy for her order.

The woman turns back to you with a smile and a friendly gesture. "Now, I do have a few things in my office for you," she begins, her voice sounding genuinely friendly and welcoming. "If you want to come by today, I can give them to you and show you the farm?" she offers.

You quickly take her offer, explaining that you were already on your way to her office before stopping by the cafe.

You step towards the counter as the woman leaves, Jesse humming to himself as he wipes over the counter. He looks up at you as he notices your presence, a smile appearing on his face as he offers a warm greeting. "What can I get for you?" he asks, tossing the cloth aside.

You place your order, deciding on taking up Maria’s recommendation and a dirty chai.

Your eyes are instantly drawn to a small table by the window, the sunlight gleaming through the room and illuminating the table as though spotlighting it for you. The bookcase behind the table shows a small collection of books and board games, all seemingly put in a neat and orderly fashion. The entire room feels clean and organized, as if everything has been placed in just the right location and given the proper focus.

You take a seat at the small table by the window and ease into a comfortable position. As you relax, you start to scroll through your emails, going over the updates about the delivery of your belongings. According to the tracking and updates, your belongings should be arriving by tomorrow, and you hope that everything goes smoothly without any unexpected delays.

Movement outside catches your eyes, and you glance out through the window. You notice Ellie and Joel sitting on one of the benches outside, Jesse setting down Joel's breakfast as Ellie continues to talk to him. The two of them laugh at something Ellie is saying as Joel rolls his eyes and shakes his head in a playful and mock frustrated way.

There’s a waffle on Joel’s plate and he shakes his head, shooing Jesse away.

Your eyes find themselves involuntarily drawn to the back of Joel, the short brown hair that curls slightly at the ends and the few soft grays that are starting to sprinkle his head. The thick brown jacket he wears looks cozy and well-worn, a clear indication of years of use and comfort.

He hands Ellie his buttered toast and she shakes her head. He must say something because she sighs dramatically and takes the bread from him.

“Happy?” You can read her lips as she talks.

Joel nods.

You look away, not wanting to be caught staring.

You’re dreaming. You have to be dreaming. A dream is the only reasonable explanation for the check in your hand.

Half a million dollars.

“There has to be some sort of mistake?”

“I can assure you, there’s no mistake here.” Maria assures you, setting her hands on her desk as she gestures to the check.

You're sitting across from Maria in her large office at the town hall. The light wood furniture in the space is sleek and simple in style, the minimalist design giving the office a clean and welcoming atmosphere. The room is filled with natural light thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, the sunlight breaking through the gray clouds reflecting off of the wood furniture and making the room feel bright and airy.

A few photo frames sit proudly on her desk. There’s one on her wedding day, kissing her husband with a smile on his face. Then there’s one next to it, the two of them holding a new born baby in a hospital bed, smiling down like proud parents.

Your eyes are frozen on the check though, the number staring back at you as you struggle to comprehend it. You're at a loss for words as your brain tries to wrap itself around the amount listed on the check, Maria's light chuckle drawing your attention.

She digs around in her draw momentarily before setting another note on the table.

“This is a lot to take in, I’m sure. This is a list of everything she did for the town. It’s rather long but if you want to pick up anything she did, you can. No one is expecting you to replace Rose, honestly I don’t think anyone could,” she slides over the list and your eyes widen more at the long list of jobs she did around town.

Farming of fruit Farming of vegetables Farming of flowers Raise cows, provide dairy products Raise Chickens, provide eggs Raise sheep, provide wool Beekeeper, provide honey Fishing, provide fresh fish Deep diving, cleaning ocean Volunteering at town events

You slowly look up at Maria with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t do all this, this is crazy.” You scoff as you look back down at the list.

She laughs at that, sighing and agreeing with you. “She was a very busy woman. But if you want to continue her farm or sell it, let me know. I’ll help you in any way I can. Rose was an outstanding member of our community. If you do decide to continue the farm, even just doing one of these, it’ll be a massive help.”

You let out a sigh, sinking into the chair as you read over the list again. Your grandmother sounds impressive and you wish you had known her, or at least remembered her.

Farming doesn’t sound too bad?

“Alright then, show me the farm. Let’s see what I’m dealing with.”

You stand before the front door to your grandmother's house, a place long forgotten and now abandoned. Cobwebs and critters are scattered all across the exterior of the house, the once meticulously maintained walls now covered in unkept vines that are slowly crawling their way up the structure. The exterior has an eerie and uninviting aura to it, as if the place has been left to become an echo of time lost to memories.

At the center of the front door hangs a small piece of paper, its edges frayed and fluttering in the breeze as the rusty nail it's held to struggles to keep it in place.

Heard someone was moving back in to Rose's place, if you need a hand rebuilding, let me know. Joel Miller ps. I used to work in construction, I know what I'm doing.

You rip the note off the front door and sigh as you look back over the farm, its beauty all but fallen apart since your grandmother's absence. The farm, once a beautiful and lively space, seems almost lifeless now. The plants are all unkempt and overgrown, most of them withered and dry while others are covered in a thick layer of weeds. It's a sad sight, one that reminds you of how much time has passed since she was last here.

How long it's been since you've been here.

“Who’s Joel Miller?” You ask as Maria follows you up the stairs to the front porch.

“That would be my brother in law, owns a sheep ranch down the road. Why?”

You hand her the note and huffs in surprise at the note. “That’s oddly nice of him. Guess he always had a soft spot for Rose. But don’t expect that from him, he can be a bit…” She trails off her sentence, her face scrunching up in thought.

“Rude?”

“Oh so you’ve met him then?” She laughs.

“I think so, took one look at me and muttered ‘fuckin’ tourist’” You try your best to impersonate his southern accent and Maria lights up at your attempt.

“Yep, that sounds just like Joel. But don’t take that personally, you’re not a fuckin’ tourist, you’re officially a Jackson resident.” She hands the keys to you and gestures towards the front door. “This is your home now.”

The sound of the door unlocking sends a nervous feeling through your stomach, your nerves already on edge from the anticipation of moving into your new home. The door creaks as it opens, a stale and musty smell filling your nose and signaling that the house had been shut up and sealed away for far too long.

The house is beautiful.

Your eyes take in the large entry as you step into the house, your eyes drawn to the two hanging black chandeliers with fake candles. A large black wooden sliding door can be seen to your left, and a set of glass doors in front of you leads out to the back porch.

You ease the black doors open, entering the open-floor plan space with a slow and careful step. The modern and rustic wooden kitchen fills your vision, a large dining room sitting to the left as you step over and slide your palms across the white counter tops. The space has been empty for a while, a thick layer of dust on the counters.

“She took a lot of pride in her home.” Maria speaks up as she follows you into the room.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Would you like a tour?”

“I’d love one.”

You follow along as Maria opens a set of dark wooden doors to the right of the kitchen, the door leading into a small laundry room that connects to the back porch. The laundry room is small but spacious, and the view out to the back porch over a pond is quite peaceful.

To the right of the kitchen, a wooden dining table is situated next to the glass windows that lead into the small greenhouse, the space filled with dead and rotting plants.

To the left of the dining table, a small living room that includes a fireplace and wide wooden stairs that lead to the second floor is also visible. Both the fireplace and the stairs have seen better days, their condition clearly being a testament to the neglect the house has seen.

She leads you upstairs, and as you enter the room at the top of the stairs, your jaw falls wide open at the sight. The room is vast and spacious, with its floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall offering a magnificent view of the pond and farm. Built-in bookshelves line the other two of the walls, with couches built in under the windows, giving the space a cozy and welcoming vibe. The books on the shelves display a wide variety of topics, from classic works of fiction to non-fiction books on various scientific subjects.

“Joel helped her do this.” Maria points towards the bookshelves and couches and you nod in awe.

“Maybe I will take him up on the offer to help.” You chuckle as she leads you into a room across from the top of the stairs. The bathroom is fairly run down and rusted, but you can see what it used to be like in all its glory. A cracked tub sits in the middle of the room with an open shower to your left.

Maria leads you to the bedroom, the final room of the upstairs, which is located to the left of the stairs. The room is decently sized, with a big window that faces out towards the farm. The window lets in plenty of lighting and fresh air. To the left of the room, there is a narrow corridor that leads to a small balcony.

“Is the power and water turned on?” You inquire, following her back downstairs to the ground level of the house.

She gives you a quick nod, confirming that she had already planned to have everything ready for your arrival. Everything had been taken care of before your arrival, ensuring that the utilities would be fully functional for you to use as soon as you move into the house.

“Well, it’s been wonderful to meet you. Rose used to talk about you a lot, so it’s been nice to meet you. If you need anything,” She digs through her bag before handing you her card. “Call me, I’ll do whatever I can to help.” She offers before leaving you alone in your new home.

You find Joel’s offer again that night, folded on a table in the entry way while you’re snooping around and attempting to sort through your grandmothers house — or you guess your own house now.

You sigh at the number scribbled at the bottom of the note. Did you really want the help of someone who was so rude to you?

As you look down at the note in your hand once more, you can't help but exhale.

“Fuck it,” you mutter as you enter his number into your phone before sending him a text.

Hey Joel, I just moved into Rose’s farm and found the note you left. Would love to take up your offer! - Fucking tourist

You smile to yourself as you send the text and hope to god that he remembers you from the cafe this morning.

Your phone vibrates as you get out of the shower that night.

Glad your not a tourist. We can grab coffee and discuss what needs doing. Tomorrow work for you? - Grumpy old man

You huff a laugh at his response, glad he has a sense of humor. You shake off the smile on your face, remembering how much of an asshole he was this morning. You text back agreeing to his offer and he sets a time for eight in the morning.

You drift off to sleep with a smile on your face, and you tell yourself that it’s not because of Joel but rather due to your own excitement and happiness about the move. He may be a rude asshole but he offered to help and from the looks of the house and farm, you’re going to need it.

And if Joel Miller wants to help, you’ll make him work.

Chapter 2 - comming soon

Notes

I am having way too much fun with this fic! So, our first look at Dina, Ellie, Jesse, Joel and Maria! I hope you like how i've incorporated them into the story! I’m having Dina and her sister run the inn (which is also a restaurant) Jesse work at the cafe (so far, there’s more he does too) and I cant wait until you find out what Ellie does, yall are going to LOVE her in this story. And then there’s Joel. Please excuse him, he’s just a grumpy old man that needs his coffee and hates tourists. But I really loved his interactions with Ellie.

Tags @jupiter-soups @anavatazes @ruthyalva96 @pastawench @littleblackcatinwonderland @joeldjarin @chiyo13 @readingiskeepingmegoing @northennlights @peachiestevie @brittmb115 @jiminstinypinky @xxrookexx

If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.

Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel tlou #joel fanfic #joel x reader #tlou #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel x fem!reader

124 notes · View notes

papercupids · 10 months

Text

good good night - kim mingyu

pairing -> mingyu x gender neutral reader.

word count -> 0.6k

summary -> mingyu has made it a habit to bail on his friends to not spend more than even a minute than he has to, but he soon regrets it

warnings -> mentions / implied use of alcohol and drinking but that’s about it.

a/n -> this is literally the third or fourth time i've tried to publish this because tumblr loves fucking w me (it didn’t save my last drafts). anyway, i love writing these little mingyu pieces so much i might even convert it into a series or something.

the bell rings and you pause watching, even though you just started watching the movie, gathering all the snacks and drinks and finally sitting down to watch it. and you think about who it could be since you don’t have any parcel deliveries scheduled for today and neither has mingyu.. or does he?

when you open the door, it reveals not your boyfriend’s package but he, himself, standing in all his 6’3 glory.

“hey, you’re back!”

“i am,” he walks past you, almost too glad to be home.

“wait, didn’t you leave like just 2 hours ago or something? mingyu, did you bail on them again?” you ask as you slowly close the door.

he sits down on the seat next to the shoe cabinet, and removes his shoes and smiles at you. he looks drunk but not as drunk as he is everytime.

“...no I just had enough of the drinks and i was super tired and i just. wanted to be home with you,” he’s done removing the shoes and he holds out his hands, signaling you to come closer. “kinda missed you,” you wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you further in, rubbing his nose to yours.

“aw, as sweet as that is, you know you shouldn’t bail on your friends everytime right?” he’d been doing this for the last few times, coming back too early, saying he preferred to spend his only free time, the weekends, with you. you walk up to the sofa and he joins you there after he changes into his home clothes.

“i think they were too drunk to notice. and besides, aren't you happy to have me home?” you look up and grin at him, a grin he’s kinda afraid of you, a grin that means that you have ulterior motives.

“ofcourse! trust me there's nobody happier than i am.” you play the movie you paused as eerie music starts playing. “a new horror movie just came out on netflix and i was about to start it so i'm so so happy you came home early so we could watch it together.”

mingyu attempts to get up quickly but your hands grab at his quickly and he gives you a pleading look.

“no baby, you can't escape now,”

“i think they're calling me though….”

“too late, baby,”

a bit later though, as the tv sounds go on and on filling up the empty house with the lights off, as you both lay asleep on the sofa, with your face on his chest and his hand lying limp on the floor with the remote still clasped.

he shakes awake slowly, due to some noise in the tv and struggles to slowly move the remote and turn it off without any movement because he was too scared of waking you up.

you had obliged into watching a romcom for the sake of mingyu but deep down he did feel like it was because after a jumpscare or two even you were kinda scared, not that you would ever admit it.

he strokes your hair gently so if he moves it doesn't wake you up suddenly and scare you, and then he gets up from under you as silently as possible and makes sure you're asleep, which thankfully, you are.

he steps inside the bedroom, turning on the lights and sets up the bed, complete with the blanket on the side folded away to accommodate you and then to be over you.

and he comes back, and again gently kisses your forehead before picking you up, scared that it will wake you up but sleeping on the sofa is a 2 days worth of back pain because of the cramped space and he does not want that to happen to you again.

when he lays you down, you curl up to snuggle yourself and he tucks the blanket to cover you.

admiring the scene just standing there for a bit.

and then he got into bed beside you, pulling up the covers above his shoulders and facing your side.

goodnight.

286 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 8 months

Text

Caramel (Ross Macdonald)

warning: language, reference to the inseam incident that i will never elaborate more on but love to reference over and over again

note: continues in this fluffy lil mini series that sorta starts here. i think i might continue this into a little mini series because i like this dynamic and i think i need more of y/n and ross in this universe. if you want to, you can imagine all the ross one shots i write all exist in the same universe cuz that’s what i do.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

it’s been 2 days since ross forcefully entered came to check in on you at your shared apartment with violet. you’re still on your period, so of course, you’re still finding it difficult to look ross in the eye without succumbing to your wildest dreams, so instead you made plans that are essentially a huge turn-off for you: hanging out with his friends.

“do i do eyeliner for this? is this, like, an eyeliner occasion?” violet questions while pretending she’s not as frantic as she truly is. she sits on the bathroom counter, having knocked over a few things on her climb up but you decided not to pester her about it.

“it really depends on who you plan on talking to.” you are sitting in the empty bathtub, fully clothed and a throw pillow hugged to your stomach. the bathroom door is closed and violet forgot to put on music so both your voices fill up the room, slightly echoing with enough enunciation.

“give me a run through again?” she pleads. you’ve done it twice, so you assume this last time is the last time but for real this time.

“first there’s adam, he has a girlfriend so he doesn’t care. then there’s george-“

“that’s the other big one, right? the blond?”

“we’ll he’s not actually blond, it’s just bleached. and very fried too. so if you’re into a man with a thicker head of hair, then you’d want to go for matty. but he comes with his own things to think about.”

“like?”

“i’m skipping ahead, sorry. so george, he’s very nice, very sweet guy, he is the other big one, he’s 6’4. smokes a lot of weed, like a lot. aside from his occasional forgetfulness from that, he’s very kind, very polite and respectful, very much a feminist. and he loves dogs.”

“well, i’m more of a cat person.”

“and you’re out of luck there. all his friends are dog people. you’ll have to adjust. anyways, then there’s matty. he’s like the ‘wattpad bad boy’ of the friend group, i think he got voted most likely to be a mafia boss and purchase a girl named ‘y/n’ from her junkie mother.”

“can you maybe like tell me something relevant about him?”

“that is relevant. he’s a little shorter, curly hair, a lot of tattoos, i mean, they all do. i think george might have the most, actually. he’s a bit of a dick at times and i know he means well or he’s mean in a comedic manner but more than often he just gets on my nerves and i know you have a much shorter temper than i do.”

“so you’re saying i should try to talk to george more.”

“i’m saying you should be careful. men are unpredictable and weird. and gross. you heard about the inseam incident, didn’t you?”

she visibly shudders. “god, how could i forget? fucking grotesque…”

she turns back to meet her own reflection in the mirror, staring blankly, but soon realizes how easily you dodged her original question. “wait, so eyeliner or no eyeliner?”

you give her a long, studying look. “eyeliner.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

you hold the door open for violet, always feeling like a gentleman to her damsel whenever she’s around. the inside of the boys’ house is much warmer than outside, and it feels like home, if home was a set temperature.

matty and george bicker over something in front of the tv, a case of dvds, maybe. adam is balls deep in conversation with his girlfriend, carly, while he pets allen, george’s matty’s dog. ross is in the kitchen grabbing a soda and a beer when he turns around at the noise of the door being opened.

“there’s my girl!” he exclaims, seemingly tipsy before the party has even begun. he drops both beverages on the kitchen island and circles around to give violet a brief side hug and you a much more substantial one. he squishes you in so tight you feel your ribs crack and splinter under the weight of it and he’s warm like a home should be. “good to see you, violet, you ready to meet my mates? they’ve been giddy about your arrival all day.”

“fuck off, we have not!” matty hollers over his shoulder and while his head is turned, george swiftly sticks a dvd of his own choice into the player and stands up, fleeing from the scene of the crime. he dusts his hands off on his jeans and reaches out to help his friend off the floor.

once matty realizes what has been done, his jaw drops in offense, and pettily, pushes g’s hands away and reluctantly stands up on his own. he stretches his arms up high and his back and elbows crack in the process. you’re much more used to his antics than violet, so you know he’s only doing this action to make the bottom of his t-shirt ride up, revealing his happy trail and his sexy tattoos.

this isn’t just some weird head-canon you have for him, you’ve actually heard him admit to this trick before when attempting to woo a woman.

ross leads the two of you over to the three men loitering the living room. “violet, this is adam,” adam doesn’t stand as the dog is in his lap, but he gives a humble wave that suffices, “matty,” violet doesn’t need to be pointed to who matty is. he stands and smiles widely and wraps violet in a hug.

“bold,” you mutter. matty flips you off behind violet’s back. you roll your eyes but he doesn’t catch it.

george approaches then, exuding a strange energy you’d never seen before. not from him at least. “and i’m george,” he extends a hand for a firm handshake, and when you watch violet agree to it, you can see him squeeze her hand just a smidge too tight.

they both are so weird. why can’t they just act normal around your friend?

“why are you two acting like freaks?” ross speaks the words right from your mouth and you feel a strong sense of adoration for him the way he can just simply share a thought of yours.

“no reason. anyway, we’re watching 'monster house,'" george dismisses and fetches the beer ross had been in the process of grabbing for him. while in the kitchen, he grabs two more sodas, holding both the cans perfectly in one large hand and you wonder what it must be like to possess such an ability.

ross drops down onto one end of the large couch, leaning into the arm of it and matty gets comfortable on a single arm chair, not leaving much opportunity to sit near violet and you start observing the weird male hierarchy that is already set in place when a new female is introduced to the ecosystem. were they like when you first met them all? you never bothered to ask, it never happened across your mind.

george returns with the sodas and hands one to you and one to violet, ever the gentleman, and sits down on the other side of the largest couch in the room.

“hey, wasn’t that coke supposed to be mine?” ross complains.

“there’s only two left. and y/n and violet are guests, so if y/n would like to share with you, that’s on her.”

ross sticks his tongue out at george’s back when he turns to fuss with the remote. you join the men on the couch, sitting a distance from ross and he immediately pulls you closer than close, you’re basically on his lap at this point. you’re confused at this sudden pda but then you notice it gives violet enough room to squeeze in right next to george on the couch. stupid unspoken male hierarchy rules.

you hand the soda to ross, not even having to ask or say anything at all, he knows it’s his official boyfriend duty to crack it open for you. he does exactly that, stealing a sip of it before handing it back. you squint at him.

you are sly when you side eye violet and george, completely eavesdropping on their gentle conversation but acting like you’re caught up in your own with your boyfriend. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say ross was listening in as well. you’re so in sync with him.

“i moved here after high school, my family is back in california,” you hear violet inform him and george looks all too interested.

“that explains the accent. it’s not everyday you hear an american, especially around here. why didn’t you go somewhere cooler like london?”

“y/n and i used to live there but then she started studying here so we made the move together. and sorry about the whole accent. it sounds a little silly compared to you guys, i know.”

“it’s not silly at all. i’ve actually always found it quite sexy, the american speak.”

it would sound like a load of bullshit if it were coming from anyone else but george is always so sincere in every word he says, you decide to leave them be for now.

you turn back to the man next to you. “can i kiss you?”

he scrunches his eyebrows, “since when do you need to ask?”

“i’m wearing lipstick. it’s gonna get on you. it might be… i don’t know… embarrassing.”

“why would it be embarrassing to have visible proof i just kissed a girl?”

“so that’s a yes, then?”

“kiss me any time. i love your lipstick. get it all over me if you want to.”

you decide to take that as a challenge and use both your hands to hold him down still, kissing every inch of his face that isn’t covered by the dark, coarse hair of his beard.

it takes him by surprise, so he sits still in shock for a few moments, letting you make a complete mess on his face, before finally retaliating, grabbing your face this time and kissing you properly.

“ew, get a room,” you didn’t even notice matty in the corner on the chair, now wrapped up in a thick blanket and pile driving a bowl of popcorn completely solo, looking like a young girl menstruating for the very first time.

ross wraps his arms around you, cradling you protectively into his neck. “mind your business, dickwad. watch the movie.” you mumble something into ross’s neck and he lets you loose so you can speak up. “what’s that?”

“douche canoe.”

he cackles in laughter, “yeah, you’re a douche canoe.”

matty rolls his eyes and you’re more than content with his irritation, so you finally give it a rest and cuddle back into ross, enjoying his warmth since matty stole both of the couch blankets.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @americanangel @butyou-callmewhenyourebored

86 notes · View notes

604to647 · 7 months

Text

The Wedding (Drabble)

Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

A/N: What if I never finish the “main” fic and just write one-shots and drabbles in this AU (Series Masterlist)? What then? 🤷🏻‍♀️😂 Anyways, in the AU, Din used to be an enforcer for the Fett Family (now he owns and runs a boxing gym where the mob guys hang/work out 🥊) Let’s go to a Mob wedding! 🙌🏻

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), no smut (but promises of?), established relationship, no implied age gap, dirty talk and pet names (baby, pretty girl, pretty bird, reader calls Din "Daddy" once).

Word count: 860

It wasn’t every day that the niece of one Don married the son of another.

Security teams from both families had been working tirelessly, and almost miraculously, together for the past few months to make sure the wedding went off without a hitch. Even top dogs like Din who were technically out of the game had been called in to consult and strategize, all so that both sides of the aisle could celebrate without the threat of any bad blood spilling. To everyone’s happy surprise, the celebratory spirit had been infectious and all evening long, new and old bonds of camaraderie were made and cemented with good food and even better music.

With the happy couple having had their honeymoon send off and the evening almost over for most, it would be particularly brazen for someone to try something now.

And yet, there’s a disturbance that’s only getting louder emanating from the reception hall that the venue staff is trying to take down. It’s probably nothing that can’t be handled quickly, but Din doesn’t want you to be near if things turned ugly.

“Pretty bird, I need you to let Jimmy take you home while I go take care of this. Can you do that for me?”

You’re already wrapped in Din’s arms; it was a lovely wedding, but you’ve missed him. Although he was a guest, he had also been working during the event and tended to his security responsibilities throughout the evening. You wouldn’t have much minded the lack of dancing or him disappearing at random points during the reception if he didn’t look so fucking hot tonight. With his arms still tight around your waist, you lean away to run your hands over the dark suit jacket that hugs his broad shoulders so snugly, feeling his muscular arms underneath you let out a deep sigh. From the moment you had spotted him when you walked into the venue foyer earlier, he had taken your breath away. You were stopped mid-stride by the sight of him filling out his perfectly tailored black suit, going over security plans with the Don’s men; when you saw him point to the floor plans, the silver rings he wore on his thick fingers came into view and you had immediately felt heat pooling between your legs. You remember that he had looked up at that exact moment and caught you practically drooling; you're sure he’s been purposefully teasing you all evening ever since.

It started during the ceremony and later the reception, Din had systematically inched his hand higher and higher up the thigh slit of your dress every time he was seated next to you. While mingling during the stand-up cocktail hour, his hand had felt hot on the small of your back, occasionally dipping lower to palm your ass when he thought no one was looking. That was to say nothing of all the low whispers in your ear throughout the night, ranging from sweet compliments to dirty ramblings that made you blush. Dipping his lips just below your earlobe, Din’s trimmed facial hair would graze your jaw so lightly it made your skin prickle.

“Look so gorgeous tonight, pretty girl. What a lucky guy I am, having you on my arm.”

“You shouldn’t be allowed to look so sexy in that dress, baby. Gonna have to punish you for it later tonight.”

“You’re driving me so fucking crazy, pretty bird. My cock has been leaking for you all night.”

And of course, you had teased him right back. Dragging your nails with feather light touches up and down the back of his neck and toying with the curls at the base of his neck whenever he sat down next to you. Slipping your hands under the front of his suit jacket and raking your fingers possessively over his stomach, then discretely tucking your fingers into the waistband of his dress pants while making polite small talk with other guests during cocktail hour. You would rest your head in the crook of his neck and coo back all sorts of compliments and longings of your own.

“Din, this suit makes you look like a brickhouse, fits you so perfectly.”

“Can’t wait to feel your weight on me, baby. My panties are soaked just thinking about being underneath you.”

“I want to suck those rings right off your fingers, daddy.”

That last one had Din threatening to bend you over the dinner table and take you in front of all the other guests right then and there.

Din looks as pained as you feel about the prospect of delaying going home and fulfilling all the dirty promises you had exchanged over the course of the evening. Running your fingers through his combed-back hair before cupping his face, you plant a chaste kiss on his lips and nod in assent to his request. “Please be safe, baby. Come home soon? I’ll be waiting for you, Din.” You look up at him, doe eyed and desperate.

Din pulls you in for a greedy goodbye kiss, and whispers low so only you can hear, “Keep that pretty dress on, sweetheart. I want to be the one to take it off of you tonight.”

Part 2

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #modern au #no y/n #din djarin x f!reader

55 notes · View notes

virgoilluminati · 1 year

Text

Belongings

Chapter 4: Hash brown, egg yolk I will always love you.

Series Masterlist

A/N: this is low-key my favourite chapter up to date. I THINK it is so cute and I am imagining like a very cute literal village bakery where y/n works. Harry is so wholesome in this and what makes this worse is the fact that as I am writing about Will I low-key don’t hate him. Which is so annoying because he is supposed to be a baddy. ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy. This one is very fluffy.

Warnings: slight angst but mainly fluff fluff fluff

Word count: 2959

In the realm of dreams, where boundaries blur and imagination runs wild, Y/N found herself immersed in a captivating scenario. As she took to the stage, her heart brimming with anticipation, she initially believed she was standing beside her fiance, Will, ready to share a musical journey together. As the music swelled, Y/N's heart overflowed with a blend of excitement and nervous anticipation. The stage became her sanctuary, a place where her emotions found solace and her voice found wings to soar. With each note, she felt a profound connection to the music her spirit intertwining with the melodies.

Surrounded by a symphony of instruments and an enraptured audience, Y/N experienced a profound sense of fulfillment. The dream transformed into a harmonious dance of self-expression, as her voice reverberated through the vast space, touching the hearts of those who listened.

In this dream, Y/N felt a resounding joy, a validation of her passion and talent. The stage became a canvas for her emotions, a conduit through which she could communicate her deepest desires and vulnerabilities. It was a moment of liberation, where she could fully embrace her true self.

As the dream unfolded, Y/N was enveloped in a sense of serenity and purpose. The stage became a symbol of her artistic journey, where she could break free from the confines of daily life and embrace her calling as a performer.

Each lyric resonated within her, echoing the emotions she had long kept hidden.

But as the dream unfolded, a subtle shift in perception occurred. Y/N's gaze shifted, and in that moment of surreal clarity, she realized that the person by her side was not Will but her best friend, Harry. It was a revelation that startled her, causing a flutter of emotions to surge through her being.

This realization within the dream sparked a mixture of confusion, intrigue, and a tinge of fear. Y/N's mind raced, grappling with the implications of this newfound awareness.

She questioned what it meant and how to navigate the delicate dynamics of her relationships. As Y/N woke from the dream, her mind remained haunted by its vivid imagery. She knew that it held deeper significance, beckoning her to explore the intricacies of her heart and confront the complex web of emotions she had been suppressing.

Y/N slowly opened her eyes, the remnants of her dream fading away. She found herself in her bedroom, with Will, her fiancé, sitting beside her. His concerned eyes met hers, and she knew she had to come up with an explanation for her disoriented state.

"Hey, are you okay?" Will asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, just had a bad dream. It shook me up a bit."

Concern etched across his face, Will reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, love. Dreams can be unsettling sometimes. But I'm here for you, always."

Her heart ached with conflicting emotions as she looked at Will's caring expression. He was kind and loving, and she couldn't deny the connection they had built. But deep down, a part of her yearned for something different, something that only Harry seemed to ignite within her.

She nodded, grateful for Will's understanding. "Thank you, Will. Your comfort means a lot to me."

As Will continued to console her, Y/N's mind drifted to Harry. They had always shared a special bond, an unspoken connection that transcended their friendship. She wondered what it would be like to wake up to his comforting presence, his arms wrapped around her, offering solace and understanding.

But reality pulled her back, reminding her of her commitment to Will and the life they had planned together. Guilt washed over her for wanting something different, for craving the forbidden.

Y/N knew she had to push those thoughts aside, at least for now. She had made a choice, and she needed to honor it. But that didn't stop her heart from yearning for more.

With a heavy sigh, she shifted her attention back to Will, appreciating the love he had shown her. She leaned into his embrace, finding comfort in his arms, even if her mind was elsewhere.

As Y/N sought solace in Will's comforting presence, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. His reassuring words did little to ease the underlying tension she sensed within him. She looked up at him, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Will, you've been so supportive, but I can tell something's bothering you. Is there something you're not telling me?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.

Will's gaze dropped for a moment, his hands fidgeting with unease. He took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak his truth. "Y/N, I haven't been entirely honest with you," he admitted, his voice laced with regret.

Her heart sank as she braced herself for what he was about to say. This wasn't what she had expected, and a wave of uncertainty washed over her. She held her breath, waiting for him to continue. “I have to leave a couple days before the wedding. It’s a work thing, and I really really can’t miss it.”

Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief, her mind racing to comprehend his confession. The implications of his departure sent a wave of panic coursing through her. "But Will, the wedding... We've planned everything around that date. What about all the arrangements? The guests, the venue..." her voice trailed off, her worries spilling out.

Will sighed, his expression filled with remorse. "I know it's not ideal, and I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience. But I’ve already talked to Harry and he’s more than happy to help you out whilst I am away. I will be back the day before and it’ll be like nothing happened.”

Her mind raced with thoughts of the countless tasks involved in wedding planning. The invitations, the venue, the caterers—they had all been arranged with the original date in mind. The prospect of rearranging everything felt daunting, and the uncertainty left her feeling overwhelmed.

“You already planned it out, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you-“

“We’re supposed to be getting married will! You have to tell me when things like this happen. Was there no one else who could cover the shift? It’s literally our wedding - surely there is some leave you could take.”

“Y/N, I can’t. This job is important to me.”

“But it shouldn’t be more important than me.” She responds. Will unable to say anything, sighs frustratedly. In retaliation y/n grabs a pillow and jumps out of the bed. Will frowns confused. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping in the lounge. Until your ready to get your priorities in shape.” And with that she slams the door in his face.

*******************

As the familiar jingle of the bakery door echoed through the room, Y/N glanced up to see Harry walking in. A mixture of relief and comfort washed over her, knowing that his presence would bring a sense of solace amidst the chaos of the wedding planning.

"Trouble in paradise?" Harry asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he approached the counter. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his ability to read her emotions so effortlessly.

She let out a soft chuckle, a touch of resignation in her tone. "It's stupid really, Harry. Will's fixated on this job situation, and it's putting a strain on us. It feels like his priorities have shifted, and it's hard to ignore."

Harry leaned against the counter, his gaze filled with understanding. "Not really love. Honestly, Will needs to get over this whole job thing. His priorities should be you. And I'm sorry that it isn't."

Her heart skipped a beat at Harry's words, his unwavering support providing her with a glimmer of hope. Despite the complicated nature of their relationship, his presence brought a sense of comfort and clarity.

She returned to kneading the dough, the rhythmic motion grounding her as she gathered her thoughts. "Thank you, Harry. Your words mean a lot to me. It's just overwhelming, the weight of everything."

Harry nodded, his eyes filled with empathy. “I understand, Y/N. Planning a wedding can be incredibly stressful, but I'm here to help with whatever is needed. We'll get through this together."

The ache in Harry's heart lingered beneath the surface, an unspoken longing that couldn't be ignored. He yearned for a future that seemed just out of reach, but being able to contribute to Y/N's wedding brought him a sense of purpose and solace. It allowed him to be there for her, to support her in a tangible way, even if his own desires went unfulfilled.

Y/N met his gaze, a mix of gratitude and affection in her eyes. "Thank you, Harry. Knowing I can count on you means more than I can express. Let's focus on making this wedding beautiful, and maybe, just maybe, everything will fall into place."

They shared a bittersweet smile, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Despite the complexities of their relationship, their bond remained unbreakable.

************

“You remember that one time when we got drunk after your concert, and you were the bride and I would be the groom.” Y/N laughed as she began to pour out a dark chocolate mixture into a pan, the aroma of sweetness wafting through the bakery. Harry's gaze softened as he watched her, the memories of their past escapades lingering in his mind.

“Yeah, that night was unforgettable," Harry chuckled, a reminiscent smile on his face. "I never thought I could rock a ball gown like that. And you with the makeshift mustache, we must have looked ridiculous."

Y/N nodded, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Oh, we definitely did. But it was so much fun. And my dad's reaction when he saw the permanent marker on my face? Priceless."

As they reminisced, the contrast between their playful past and the reality of the present hung in the air. Y/N was preparing for her wedding, while Harry, deep down, yearned for a different outcome. The ache in his chest resurfaced, a bittersweet reminder of the unfulfilled longing within him.

Harry's smile wavered slightly, a hint of sadness shadowing his eyes. "How time flies, indeed. Here we are now, on the brink of your wedding, and I'm... well, I'm here."

Y/N turned to face him, her expression filled with warmth and understanding. She knew the depth of his feelings, even if they couldn't be openly acknowledged. Her heart ached for him, for the love they shared but couldn't fully embrace.

"Harry," she said softly, placing a hand on his arm. "You've always been here for me, and I'm grateful beyond words. Our friendship means everything to me, even if our paths have taken different turns. Just having you by my side brings me comfort and strength."

Harry's smile returned, tinged with a touch of awkwardness. He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze briefly falling away before meeting hers once more. "I know, Y/N. And I treasure our friendship too. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

In that moment, they understood the unspoken truth. Their connection, though unfulfilled romantically, remained a source of solace and support. They would navigate the complexities of their emotions, cherishing the bond they shared while honoring the commitments they had made.

As the scent of chocolate filled the bakery, Y/N and Harry carried on with their preparations, finding solace in the shared memories and the knowledge that, even in the face of unrequited love, their friendship would endure. And though the ache in Harry's heart remained, he couldn't help but hold onto the hope that somehow, in their own unique way, they had found a love that transcended traditional boundaries.

***********

“You’ll need a date for the wedding you know…”

Y/N's suggestion caught Harry off guard, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and confusion. The idea of going on a date hadn't crossed his mind, as he had resigned himself to the belief that his heart belonged solely to Y/N. He looked at her, his brows furrowed, trying to process her proposition.

"I don't need a date, Y/N," Harry replied, his voice carrying a tinge of uncertainty. The thought of being with someone else paled in comparison to the connection he shared with her, even if it remained unspoken.

Y/N's eyes sparkled with determination as she countered his statement. "But Harry, you don't want to be alone. And I know a couple of people who would be right up your street. Like Florence, for instance!"

"Florence?" Harry burst into laughter, the idea of him and Y/N's maid of honor being a romantic match seeming absurd to him. He stepped away from the pastries he was attempting to braid, his laughter filling the room.

"Yes, Florence!" Y/N insisted, her voice filled with excitement. "You two would get on so well, and she is so lovely..."

Harry's laughter subsided, and he looked at Y/N with a mixture of amusement and affection. "I'm sure she is, Y/N, but she's not my type."

Y/N's gaze lingered on his face, searching for any hint of his preferences, as if she could read his thoughts. Harry felt a wave of anxiety wash over him, realizing that his hidden feelings might be more apparent than he had anticipated.

"It doesn't matter," he added quickly, his voice slightly shaky. "I mean, my type... it's not important right now."

As the unspoken words lingered between them, Harry couldn't help but wonder if Y/N had glimpsed the truth behind his response. He longed for her, for the connection they shared, but he also feared the consequences of revealing his true feelings.

Y/N's eyes softened, and she reached out to gently touch his arm. "Harry, I just want you to be happy. If not Florence, then maybe someone else. You deserve love and companionship too, you know?"

Harry's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and longing. He yearned to confess his feelings, to reveal that his type was standing right in front of him. But the fear of jeopardizing their friendship held him back, and he settled for a small smile.

As Y/N was about to respond, her curiosity piqued by Harry's evasive answer, she suddenly found herself enveloped in a cloud of white. Flour coated her hair, clothes, and the surrounding area, leaving her momentarily stunned. Harry stood there, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, holding an empty bag that once held flour.

"Oops! My hand slipped," Harry chuckled, trying to suppress his laughter.

Y/N's surprise quickly turned into amusement, and a mischievous twinkle sparkled in her eyes. She glanced at Harry, a playful smile forming on her flour-covered face. "Oh, you're in for it now, Styles!"

Without hesitation, Y/N grabbed a handful of flour and tossed it back at Harry. The room erupted into laughter and chaos as they engaged in a spontaneous food fight. Flour flew through the air, pastries were transformed into ammunition, and their bakery became a temporary battleground of laughter and mess.

Laughter echoed through the air as they ducked and dodged, their faces adorned with flour and grins of pure joy. In that moment, the worries and complexities of their lives faded into the background, and they were simply two friends reveling in a carefree moment.

Flour coated every surface, creating a whimsical scene that seemed straight out of a movie. Their shared laughter echoed through the bakery, filling the space with an infectious energy that dispelled any lingering tension.

After what felt like an eternity of flour-filled fun, the laughter subsided, and they stood there, breathless and covered in the remnants of their impromptu food fight. Harry's eyes met Y/N's, and they burst into laughter once more, their bond growing stronger amidst the mess they had created.

In the midst of the flour-filled chaos, as Y/N and Harry's eyes met, a palpable tension crackled in the air. Their gazes lingered, locked on each other, before instinctively shifting down to each other's lips. The unspoken desire hung between them, and it seemed as if the world around them had momentarily faded away.

Without a word, they both leaned in, their intentions clear. The anticipation of their lips meeting was electrifying, the culmination of years of unspoken affection. But just as their lips were about to touch, Florence walked through the door, her voice chiming with excitement as she held up an array of colors for Y/N to consider for her wedding dress.

"Y/N, I've got some options for you to try!" Florence exclaimed, unaware of the charged moment that had just transpired between Y/N and Harry.

Startled, Y/N and Harry quickly pulled away from each other, their faces flushed with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. They exchanged a fleeting glance, their unspoken connection echoing in the silence, before seamlessly transitioning back into their baking roles as if nothing had happened.

"Thanks, Florence! Let's take a look," Y/N responded, her voice masking any hint of what had just occurred. The atmosphere in the bakery shifted back to normalcy, though their hearts still fluttered with the nearness of what could have been.

As Florence continued to talk excitedly about the various dress colors, Y/N and Harry exchanged subtle glances, their shared moment remaining a secret between them. The unspoken understanding and unrequited affection remained intact, locked away beneath the surface

#harry styles cute #harry styles #one direction #harrystyles x y/n #harrystyles x bakerreader #harrystyles x singerreader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic rec #harrystylesxreader #harry styles concept #harrystyles angst #harrystyles fluff

77 notes · View notes

intoloopin · 4 months

Text

LOOP GOES DISCO #1 - "THE LAST PIT OF HELL IS AN ASSHOLE'S HOTEL BATHROOM."

A SERIES REWRITE OF DISCARDED SCENES USING DISCO ELYSIUM GAME MECHANICS/LINGO.

TWS: Drug use. Cursing. Self deprecating language. Fighting. Forced vomiting. Blood. Feelings being expressed weirdly at inappropriate times (???).

CONTEXT: This is rewrite of a missing scene from END AT ME: it's a glimpse at the Hell party that caused Minwoo to call Taesong on July 14th going 15th + what proceeded the final motel scene by 4 to 6 hours.

starring: Bang Minwoo. Xu 'J.J' Jiahang.

word account: 3.8K / 3,848 words.

writer's note: OKAY, SO! To anyone who's unfamiliar on how DE functions, fear not: this works as it's own thing. But to hopefully get you into the right mood, I'll link a video to the game's intro as well as the skill sheet out of detail so you can grasp what's being evoked here. Most skills have been adapted to fit this new setting and Minwoo's own psychology anyway, so understanding how they function in game or not (hopefully!) won't take away from any fun of this psyche dive. With that being said! Good read! This is the most fun I had all week!

THE ASSHOLE’S HOTEL BATHROOM - Filled with too many soap cabinets and a candelabra for a lamp – things of value but no *practical use* – the Asshole’s Hotel Bathroom looks exactly like you expect it to. To put it simply it's a fancy, cold and soulless shit deposit.

REACTION SPEED (Easy: Success) - Like your goddamn man.

EMPATHY (Challenging: Success) - Like *them*, your man’s ‘friends’, who share no traits with him. Not an hinch of loyalty to anything or anyone.

YOU - You inspect Jiahang, the said man – just a man, his own man – that you have an arm's hold of, dragging along behind you. He doesn’t want to come into the Asshole’s Hotel Bathroom, of course not. He doesn’t want to leave The Party and its Party People either, but he must be surgically extracted from them. He must be attended to, immediately.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Medium: Fail) - You still have no idea why he jumped on to take what the asshole man offered you, why he tried to bargain your way out of the room at the expense of his already too dazed system, with a dry gulp of a too big pill ill meant for you, putting on a show so you could leave.

INTERFACING (Easy: Success) - As if you would ever choose to escape out of any Hell without him – as if you could make out of any labyrinth without your North Star.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Easy: Success) - God, he’s beautiful even while bone deep in physical discomfort. That’s art in real fucking staggering movements, all live, full color. He has mastered the sweet, sweet pain it takes to *be* music. He has beat you at your own game, Minwoo love. Beat you right up. *Beat you good*.

LOGIC (Easy: Success) - Whatever is that he swallowed, he needs it out of his system. Now.

YOU - You lock the door behind you, let his pulse go. You both stand in discrepant different examples of equilibrium at the center of the room.

VISUAL CALCULUS (Easy: Success) - The toilet has its lid already set open, like a paid extra.

“What were you thinking?!”

“You need to throw up. *Now*.”

No talking. No time to waste. Reach forward. Be of help.

YOU - You take an unfocused step forward, leaving two feet between Jiahang and you. The proximity accomplishes nothing: your fingers trail millimeters over his chest, failing to check anything, just shaking.

JIAHANG - "Minwoo hyung, c’mon… Calm down, okay, calm down… I can… take it, I’m alright…," Jiahang’s marijuana voice is something deeper in tone and lighter in sound, close to a whisper. He takes pauses to hold in anxious, misplaced laughs. “It’s not my… First rodeo, so… Calm down…”

LOGIC (Easy: Success) - He’s not new to drugs, that’s what he meant. Both in general, and with today’s doctor’s prescription: weed, cocaine, maybe, and the other thing, the white pill.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Easy: Success) - You knew this already. You pretended not to, for someone’s sake – you don’t remember who, now – but it’s become obvious to you early on. How could it not when it’s *you*, a Guryo son who knows what to seek for when telling… *high risk riders* apart from any crowd.

LOGIC (Easy: Success) - And yet you did nothing to put a stop to it. You let it come to this. This is as much as your fault as it is the asshole man’s. You’re a fucking asshole man, Asshole Man.

YOU - Your head bends downwards, away from him, away from direct view.

INLAND EMPIRE (Medium: Success) - Because it pains you; the sight of him pains you. It always has. Every inch of his body is a light that cuts right through your retinas, close to being fatal.

DRAMA (Easy: Success) - By God, he’s made you just as blind as the piano and guitar have. *He really is music*.

“Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

Give me something else. I won’t say that.

YOU - Give me something else. I won’t say that.

HALF LIGHT (Challenging: Fail) - Oh? And why the fuck not?

It’s not what he needs to fucking hear now, shit Head!

The night’s been already harsh enough. Try to be kind or something, fuck Hell.

Please, *please* don’t make me say it. I don’t wanna say it.

YOU - It’s not what he needs to fucking hear now, shit Head!

HALF LIGHT (Challenging: Fail) - Well, fuck-o, this is all you got. Have you forgotten who you are? You’re a brute and ruthless son of a gun. Shoot-words-to-kill, that’s the Bang Minwoo pattern of speech. You know nothing else.

“Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

[COMPOSURE CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (3% CHANCE).] Breath.

[LOGIC CHECK: GODLY (27% CHANCE).] Come up with something else. Something soothing. *Anything*.

LOGIC CHECK: FAILURE. - As you search your oceanic brain for a cohesive, less deadly set of words, you find nothing but a dark void and the defeating sound of static. You’re tongue tied. You’re jaw set. You’re furious. You’re terrified. You’re only half inside your own body.

PAIN THRESHOLD (Impossible: Fail) - The smell of urine and powder mixed together, coming straight off the toilet to your nose. The sensation of being too small, too impotent inside a big room that you’ve never seen so big. The body of a loved one shivering close, mad with fever.

INLAND EMPIRE (Challenging: Fail) - It’s all too familiar, isn’t it now, crack baby?

[-1 MORALE.]

THE AWARENESS OF THE LOOP - TIME IS A FLAT FUCKING CIRCLE, AND YOU DREW ITS LINE THEN, AND YOU DREW ITS LINE NOW!

“Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

[COMPOSURE CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (1% CHANCE).] Breath.

COMPOSURE CHECK: EPIC FAIL. - Thinking of breathing only makes your breathing worse. Stop. Thinking. Of. It. STOP. IMMEDIATELY.

[-1 PHYSICAL.]

“Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

YOU - “Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

JIAHANG - Slowly, as if he’s hearing you with a 15 second delay, Jiahang looks up at you with his big stars for eyes, embedded in a sea of red. “What..?”

“You–! Jesus Christ, you fucking heard me, Jiahang!”

YOU - “You–! Jesus Christ, you fucking heard me, Jiahang!”

“I can’t deal with you having a crash, I can’t witness that sort of *shit*! You know why I fucking can’t!”

YOU - “I can’t deal with you having a goddamn crash, I can’t witness that sort of *shit*! You know why I fucking can’t!”

JIAHANG - The delay’s gone, it seems: in front of you, Jiahang flinches, withers, pressing his tiny lips close together.

AUTHORITY (Challenging: Success) - BE CALM. He’s scared, but not of you – only of himself, what he’s done, and what you might think of him now.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) - And he’s ashamed of what he took you back to, now that he realizes – the razor sharp flashes of your once uncle seem to flow between you telepathically.

THE BLURRY PHOTO INSIDE YOUR WALLET - *GOODSPEED, BANG WOOHYUN – BELOVED BROTHER, ADORED SON, TRUE FATHER. AND MAY GOD LAY YOU TO REST KINDLY.*

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) - He’s always scared of what people might think of him. It’s his Achilles tendon. When it comes to you, the fear of letting down goes hand in hand with an old, too familiar grief.

UNTRACEABLE RUSH OF DOPAMINE - Tell him. Tell him what we think of him, now and always. It’s time.

“I just don’t get– You or, or! You’re supposed to be music, for shit’s sake! Whatever the fuck that means!”

Don’t make me do this to me now.

I don’t fucking know what I think, alright?! Not about him, not about anything anymore! *I don’t know!* And I don’t want to know! I don’t give a shit! I never fucking have!

YOU - I don’t fucking know what I think, alright?! Not about him, not about anything anymore! *I don’t know!* And I don’t want to know! I don’t give a shit! I never fucking have!

DRAMA (Easy: Success) - Alright, sire, alright. Don’t open the Pandora’s Box that is your stone heart, if you’re too much of a pussy to see what’s been growing inside. Suit your weak self, take the coward’s road. Just be careful not to fall too hard while embarking on this deep, deep sink of yours into that old, old Egyptian river.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Legendary: Success) - That old Egyptian river is called the Nile river. Say it's determiner and name three times quickly out loud. The joke writes itself.

INLAND EMPIRE (Easy: Success) - Not a easier joke to decipher than *you*, of course, Bang Man.

JIAHANG - It takes him a while, but Jiahang eventually recovers; straightens his spine up, grows back to big. “If you can’t see it, then… leave, then. You can… do that. You brought me my bag, I– I took the *thing* for you, you’re free– free to go. So go on. Turn around, just turn– turn around, if that’s what… what you want so bad!”

[VOLITION RED CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (0% CHANCE). YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] Leave.

I can’t leave him.

“I can’t leave you!”

YOU - I can’t leave him.

PERCEPTION (Heroic: Fail) - Ah, yes. That you have no strength to do. It's as simple as that.

“I can’t leave you – not like this!”

“I can’t leave you – not with them!”

“I just *can’t leave you*!”

YOU - “I can’t leave you, Jiahang – not like this!”

JIAHANG - You see a frown show up on his forehead as he mouths ‘like this’, like it’s an insult, but doesn’t say it. What he does say is a frustrated, confused plea of, “Then what, Minwoo? Then *what*?!”

HAND/EYE COORDINATION (Easy: Success) - Oh, sire. You know exactly what you must do.

[SUGGESTION CHECK: FORMIDABLE (38% CHANCE).] Convince Jiahang to throw up. Keep talking. He’s giving in.

[REACTION SPEED CHECK: CHALLENGING (65% CHANCE).] Make him throw up. You’ve lost too much damn time already with all this fucking talking.

[PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT RED CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (1% CHANCE). YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] Shove him into the bathtub and turn on the ice cold shower. Let the thermal shock overwhelm him, then make him throw up there. It’s risky, but it feels like the way.

REACTION SPEED CHECK: FAIL. You raise your arms and grab him suddenly by the elbows, catching him visibly by surprise – and it all goes quickly downhill from there.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Challenging: Epic Fail) - Your limbs struggle to make him bend any way, let alone to the direction of the toilet or the floor. Under your feet, the humid ground keeps you from grounding yourself enough to make any of this work. Nothing’s in your favor. You realize your mistake too late.

RHETORIC (Easy: Success) - You should have thought this through. Jiahang is, after all, much taller than you – and much too cherished for your hands to dare squeeze or scratch.

YOU - Your fingers let go without you telling them to. Bad equilibrium disrupted, Jiahang slips on the wet tiles and falls sideways, head bumping with the toilet’s unforgiving ceramic, nose first, sound second: a horrible cry out of pain you heard just once.

[CRITICAL MORALE DAMAGE.]

[CRITICAL PHYSICAL DAMAGE.]

YOU - DEAR GOD. MY DEAR GOD.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success): DON’T SHUT DOWN – YOU CAN’T. IT MAKES YOU MORE VICIOUS. YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO: HE MUST KNOW YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO. RUSH TO PROVE IT– HELP!

JUMP TO HELP!

YOU - YOU JUMP TO HELP! You’re on your knees quicker than you’ve ever been, palming his back, his shoulder.

JIAHANG - He glimpses at you sideways, then hides his face away, turning it to the opposite side. A lonely stream of blood drips from his left nostril, and he rushes to cover it with his trembling hand. You notice; you hear a sob.

RETHORIC (Heroic: Fail) - You’re a wordsmitch, fuck face, or are you not?! SAY SOMETHING. FIX THIS.

“Fuck, you– You didn’t give me *any other choice*, like!!!”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry so so sorry I’m sorry sorry!!!!!!”

Fuck it. Focus on the mission. Put your fingers down his throat. Count damages later.

YOU - Make the worst worth it, you think, as you scoopes his face in.

LOGIC (Medium: Fail) - Will it even accomplish anything? The white pill’s been in his system for over 20 minutes, not to mention all the rest, a pool party of shit in his bloodstream. Anyhow: better safe than sorry, you assume – you pray.

YOU - You fight to get your fingers into his mouth, meet a wall of teeth, a resistence of tongue; it opens after you let out a small curse, like a castle’s gate.

SUGGESTION (Easy: Success) - So *this* is how it feels.

PERCEPTION (Medium: Success) - Under you, he’s stopped moving. Jiahang has no real strength or deep desire to push you out or hurt you. He might even understand the invasion, under the haze; be grateful for it, even.

YOU - You feel it when it comes, a stream of bile. You remove your hand and wipes it on your trousers, sees Jiahang bending over to sit and spill sick yellow vomit for seconds, a minute.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Easy: Success) - Even though you’ve hurt him not a second ago – it wasn’t even the first time, either – he hasn’t bitten a single finger of yours off when he had the chance. Not a follower of the Eye For an Eye school of thinking, this pupil of yours, despite your suffocating influence. That’s good. You’re nothing but a bad preacher of a bad religion.

JIAHANG - When he’s done spitting and coughing, Jiahang begins to curl into himself, turning into a quiet small ball on the floor, too close to the release pool.

“I’m sorry. It was the only way– I’m sorry.”

“Jiahang-ah, please, let me take a look at you – Let me look at you, *please*.”

[AUTHORITY CHECK: EASY. 92% CHANCE.] “Show me your nose, now.”

AUTHORITY CHECK: SUCCESS.

YOU - “Show me your nose, now.”

PERCEPTION (Easy: Success) - He does, without a fight, lying on the floor with his head facing the ceiling. It’s bad, the bruise – the damage. You help guide him to sit up straight as he can.

YOU - You extend your hand to the side, up– The toilet paper dances off the holder as you push it, and it rolls away. You get enough of it to wrap it over your open palm three times, to make an amateur glove. You wipe the trace of blood off his mouth as gently as you can.

JIAHANG - “I’m such a… mess, just so–!” He cries, suddenly; a dam of tears, hot and uncontainable. “Awful, *awful* thing, disgusting fucking– fucking *thing*!”

“I know. I know exactly what you are.”

“That’s not all there is to you, baby, it’s not all there is to you at all, listen to me, honey, *listen*, **please listen**.”

“You could be worse.”

YOU - “You could be worse.”

JIAHANG - This gets his attention. “How even– Worse how?” Jiahang asks, mid hiccup, mid wail. “Give me one– One fucking example, if you… can. Can you? You *can’t*, can you?!”

SHIVERS (Medium: Success) - Around you and around him, The Party keeps on going, like a nonstop train. Your ears attune themselves to the purr of it – it's a habit. You’re too often outside rooms buzzing with life, only listening in through paper thin walls, missing the experience of it.

EMPATHY (Heroic: Success) - No one has come to check on him, you both have realized – Jiahang a minute faster than you. None of his Party People friends give a flying fuck. The reality is falling down on him like a skyscraper, crushing, breathtaking, killer.

AUTHORITY (Legendary: Success) - LET THE OUTSIDE WORLD GO QUIET. THERE IS SOMETHING HE WANTS TO HEAR YOU SAY.

[REACTION SPEED RED CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (11% CHANCE.) YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] Start listing the real world things that are worse than him. (There’s a ton, and you know them intimately – and you know him intimately. Give Jiahang something else to weep for.)

[DRAMA RED CHECK, IMPOSSIBLE (9% CHANCE.) YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] Start listing the unreal, out of this world things worse than him – the ones you’ve seen in your open eyed dreams. (Not as many options, but a tad lighter. Make the sadness disappear, bring anything close to a laugh back. Be the mad man for a great cause.)

[INLAND EMPIRE RED CHECK: LEGENDARY (26% CHANCE). YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] “You could be like me. I’m worse than you’ll ever be.” (The truth. It can only hurt you.)

Say nothing.

INLAND EMPIRE CHECK: SUCCESS.

YOU - “You could be like me. I’m worse than you’ll ever be.”

LOGIC (Challenging: Success) - There is nothing worse than you, False Prophet, Fake Noah. Obsessed with connecting melodies, speaking truthfully only through rhyme schemes on pieces of paper that meet no one, only the bottom of trash cans or the back of your hard pillow. You’re not functional. You’re no leading man. You’re no good.

INLAND EMPIRE (Medium: Success) - But it feels good, doesn’t it? To finally admit how rotten you are after a whole life of pretending you’re a giving three, a good soil.

EMPATHY (Challenging: Success) - To say to someone who knows it, understands it, and stays.

[+1 MORALE]

Wait, I gained a fucking morale point from THAT?!

YOU - What the actual fuck?!

RHETORIC (Medium: Success) - You’re neck deep into shit, pal. Just count your win. It’s only a consolidation medal, nothing more, nothingbless – kiddo needs his fake prizes to fill his kiddo fuel.

JIAHANG - “But… I feel like you already,” he tells you. “All the time, hyung… All the time, I feel like you– Angry, and upset, and– and so lonely.”

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Easy: Success) - Wait, what’s that taunting your face, blocking your neck…? Oh, fucking Hell…! You’re crying! You’re nodding at him and crying!

AUTHORITY (Impossible: Fail) - HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU CRYING?! You don’t do that anymore, you’ve forgotten how. Revoke it. Revoke it along with all this sweat taking over your body.

“Don’t you dare say that.”

“I’m sorry, Jiahang. This is not– Not what I wanted to happen.”

“Just– Give me a minute, God, give me a minute!”

YOU - “I’m sorry, Jiahang. This is not– Not what I wanted to happen.”

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Easy: Success) - The tears prickle your eyes, actually turn you momentarily blind. You blink, hard, adjusting to their salt. It reminds you of how hard to stomach you are, inside out.

PAIN THRESHOLD (Medium: Success) - And it reminds you of how much saltier you’ve used to be. The tears are already falling off your sad sockets, sire – let them.

[+1 PHYSICAL.]

JIAHANG - “It’s not so bad, right, I think, to have… Turned into *this*, because– You’re no longer… lonely, and… Neither am I, right…? We can both be happy with that, be happy…” He doesn’t finish speaking; just closes his eyes, closes his mouth.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Medium: Fail) - We like the visual he’s evoking, Minwoo love. Picture the two of you, holding hands, walking right into the dooming sun– Oh, oh! Romeo and Romeo, tongue deep into each other’s poison bitter throats!!!

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) - Your man’s not right. He’s fading. This isn’t the Jiahang you want; most importantly, this isn’t the Jiahang that *Jiahang wants*. This is no good, Minwoo.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Medium: Fail) - It’s as close as we'll ever get to having any Jiahang *at all*. Enjoy it! We should kiss him now. Seal this deal right up. Two shots of Marriage In Misery and a whole bottle of Honeymoon On The Floor (Animal Style) coming *right the fuck up*, sign it to the wingless lovebirds right there, near the piss jar!!!

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) - Let go of his hand. Check his eyes. Help him up.

INLAND EMPIRE (Legendary: Fail) - Or perhaps this is the time for you to leave. You shouldn’t have ever touched him, to begin with. You shouldn’t have spoken a single word beyond ‘Goodbye’ to this man when he was still a graduating boy. You shouldn’t have made him think that he needed to cling to ruination to shine. You shouldn't have come to know any of them.

Kiss Jiahang. (ANIMAL FUCKING STYLE!!!)

Check Jiahang up (medically.), then help him up. You both need to leave the Asshole's Hotel Bathroom and The Asshole’s Hotel all together.

Walk away – Just walk away. His shortness of breath seems contagious. It’s sticking to your lungs.

YOU - It takes no effort to untangle your hands from his, to place them both on his cheeks, tend to the temperature.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Challenging: Success) - His skin is at 110 degrees, to be precise. The lucky-unlucky number, if you’ll believe it.

LOGIC (Medium: Success) - It’s a mind and body turmoil. I’m afraid you can do nothing about it.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, *DO NOTHING*?! FUCK OFF.

I can do something, I– I feel it.

I refuse to let him fall. I reject it.

YOU - I refuse to let him fall. I reject it.

INLAND EMPIRE (Medium: Success) - Cute, my lord, but still not enough. You might as well swear to become a whole different man, in your desperation, if you want to make this medicine of yours come true – transform into a superhuman, super empathic man suit. Like the Taesong Taesong thinks he is.

Good, I’ll swear on it, I’ll be it – I've been waiting for an excuse to tend to the internal damage and start a renovation. This is will be my new wallpaper.

No, don’t swear on it, fool – There’s no need to be extreme. *There’s no guarantee it will work*.

YOU - No, don’t swear on it, fool – There’s no need to be extreme. *There’s no guarantee it will work.*

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Challenging: Success) - Exactly. Hold your horses, Bang Man. Take this promise in. You never tried to be anything besides what you are now. You’re a 26-year-old hound – in dog years that’s 116 to 128 years of living. There’s no space inside your head for new tricks, new instincts.

DRAMA (Easy: Success) - You’re chained to a wall, my liege. You have to tear it the fuck down, and clean the concrete aftermath, and rise from the ashes of it – full Fenix style. Fail at that and you’ll be here again, if not in this asshole’s hotel bathroom, then another asshole’s hotel bathroom; if not with him, then with someone else, just as meaningful. You got the need for change, now? The need to compromise the fuck out of you?!

AUTHORITY (Heroic: Success): Say you got it now.

Fine. I guess I got it now.

I got it! I fucking got it, goddammit!

I understand.

YOU - I understand.

INLAND EMPIRE (Challenging: Success) - My, oh my… It seems you really do.

THE AWARENESS OF THE LOOP - *OH?* OH! THIS IS A REAL STEP, THIS IS SOMETHING – OH, THIS IS *REALLY SOMETHING NOW*, LITTLE MOON, WHAT A MAGNIFICENT EFFORT! THIS IS PROGRESS YOU’RE HOLDING THE HAND OF, AND IT’S PLEASED TO MEET YOU AT LAST, SO PLEASED TO MEET YOU! THE THING ABOUT IT– THE THING WITH PROGRESS, SHARP-TOOTHED ONE, IS THAT THERE IS NEVER ANY INGLORIOUS END – THERE’S NO END TO IT AT ALL!

[HIDDEN TASK, ‘TAKE THE 1ST STEP OF A 100 INTO METAMORPHOSIS’, COMPLETE.]

[+30 EXPERIENCE.]

[YOU CAN LEVEL UP A SKILL NOW.]

[END?]

[END.]

#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ extras .#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ writing .#fictional idol community #fake kpop group #kpop au #kpop fanfic #kpop oc #I'm just a girl having fun!!!!!

18 notes · View notes

sanjerina · 1 month

Text

The thing I love about fannish creativity is how all of the stories kind of curl up next to the original version and pad it out, but in this variegated way where the padding around the original* story can create so many different answers to things like: what happened next? — what happened in the other character’s point of view? — why are there bees in the trees in the autumn? — what if the bees were surveillance cameras?

(This is, by the way, the collaborative storytelling we have been designed to do for, like, a couple-few hundred thousand years? * Yeah.)

Anyway. The example I have today (though I have others!) is from Victoria Goddard’s Greenwing and Dart series, which focuses on two young men named, as might imagine, Mr. Greenwing and Mr. Dart.

There were so many many stories where the buddy-sleuth (they’re not cops, Jemis Greenwing says ACAB) vibe they have going, their emotional intensity, their various in-jokes… I would have read as homoerotic subtext, like we’ve all been doing since Holmes and Watson.

And fanfic has always been such a reliable place for this. Like. Please and thank God for that. I keep talking about the Good Boys because I want them to experience every possibility of love and support and sarcasm they can possibly attain. And bring their friends. In wild permutation.

But for various reasons, halfway through its run I don’t think the text is “going there” (in terms of a G+D sexual relationship) — there’s plenty of gayness within the text, so it’s not Goddard pretending to ignore something (as if she would).

But it’s also not a sexually charged relationship**, and I’ll be astounded if that is how it actually ends for them. G+D hits beat by beat of a traditional romance in so many ways, but instead of “falling short” of true love like a 70s buddy comedy, it falls otherwise. Mr. Greenwing and Mr. Dart are each the most important person in the others’ lives. That will not change. Their mutual loyalty is so precious to me that I fear to mention it lest I endanger it.

So — though I will read alllllllll of the Greenwing/Dart fanfic y’all want to write! — I would sort of be let down if they did get together sexually “for real” (i.e., in canon). The beauty and vulnerability of their friendship is gorgeous just as it is, and my demi/gray-ace heart finds that so fulfilling. I trust the storyteller here and have no doubt she can get me “there” if that’s where she’s going, but I love their dynamic and the way it shows another model of love. And since that’s often a theme in Goddard’s writing, I think she’s doing it on purpose.

So if she did “go there”, great, nothing I like better of an evening than reading a satisfying romance about two people (who are fictional and nothing at all like me) finding true love and also orgasms. But if she sticks the queerplatonic landing as I am currently expecting, I will be deeply satisfied.

Either way, fanfic will fill in and give us the story that’s not there. And that’s what I love about stories that accumulate other storytellers.*

Anyway, to my POINT, which is that I love fanfic for its profusion of color, AND I also love the original* canon everyone more or less agrees on and either (1) elaborates within that framework or (2) turns it on its head.

And please go read these books. The love, the loyalty, the yearning… the FANFIC just trust me. I want 500K of G+D fic on my desk next Monday and I’m hardly going to do it all myself 😂

- notes -

* I think in the end every story is one story, but also that that’s why every retelling of that story is singular and cannot be duplicated. Along with also having a theory about social storytelling and music being the ways we managed our mental health long enough to develop agriculture (and then fuck that cultural system up.)

But anyway. I’m also a tiny bit high right now, so this may not be as deep as I think it is. :)

** Look, in canon, which is from Jemis’s perspective, you know I’m right. And yes, it’s equally well established that Jemis is an otherwise very smart young man who is utterly oblivious about his own sex appeal. So it’s like a Schrödinger’s cat of they will kiss/they will not kiss, and I eat that up with a spoon.

#greenwing and dart #nine worlds #victoria goddard #queerplatonic #mental health #Aunt Sanj: gummy auntie?#maybe a little on alternate Sundays #storytelling and human behavior #this is what we get when Sanj doesn’t edit their sentence structure #gray ace #collaborative storytelling

11 notes · View notes

musical-shit-show · 1 year

Note

hi, I love the way you write dewey finn so much!! may I request #18 from prompt list 2 and/or “you are terrible at this.” from prompt list 3 for him please?

close enough to touch

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: #18 (“it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyways.”) from Prompt List 2 and #36 (“you are terrible at this.”) from Prompt List 3, requested by anon

Warnings: Awkward flirting, fluff

Word Count: 2,370

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long, anon! I was really struggling with this one but I hope you like it! I’ve been meaning to write some post-School of Rock Dewey, and if people like this I wouldn’t mind doing another teacher!Reader one shot. So please let me know if this is something y’all like in the comments and reblogs! Also, check out my Masterlist, Prompt Lists, and About Me page, and submit an ask! It might take me a little bit longer with some requests but I promise to always make those my priority. I’m also working on my Beetlejuice series (to fill the void of course) so hopefully there will be more chapters of that coming soon. Thanks to everyone who’s supported my writing so far and enjoy!

“Don’t look now, but he’s staring at you again.”

“Who?”

“The music tutor.”

You decided to not look up from your coffee mug, the creamer you had just poured swirling slowly. It was the end of your second week at Horace Green, and Mrs. White had quickly taken you under her wing.

The teacher’s lounge was buzzing with activity, since the second Friday of every month meant free pastries from the local artisanal bakery. Apparently incentivizing the molders of young minds with sugar and fat never failed.

You placed an almond croissant on your plate, trying your best to stay discreet, “What’s his name again? Danny?”

Mrs. White laughed lightly, “Dewey,” she said with the smallest hint of disdain, “He’s the one I was telling you about last week. The one who impersonated a substitute last semester.”

Your jaw fell open slightly, and you decided to get another look of this guy. Turning from the spread of baked goods, your eyes wandered over to the other side of the room, where you saw the culprit averting his gaze from your direction.

He was, in a word, unkempt. His clothes were mismatched and ill-fitting; the button-down shirt hiding under his loud sweater vest was about half a size too large, and his dark jeans looked half a size too small. Most of the male teachers at Horace Green typically wore sport jackets and khakis, or at least a tie. Clearly Dewey didn’t get the memo.

His hair was also rumpled, dark brown and wavy and spurting in all different directions. You guessed he had rolled out of bed without running a brush through that mess, let alone even looked in the mirror.

You also noticed a significant amount of stubble growing on his round face, finishing off the whole scruffy vibe he had clearly committed to. He was almost…cute. His eyes were the same color as your coffee, deep brown with a touch of lightness.

“Not to state the obvious, but isn’t that a crime?” you murmured, trying to be discreet as you gossiped with your co-worker.

She answered with an eyeroll. “Of course it is,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She took it black, two sugars. “But Rosalie—Ms. Mullins—decided to not press charges and hired him instead. Caused quite an uproar, but the students love him, so…”

You peered at him again curiously. Dewey was had just finished scribbling something in his notebook, breathing a heavy sigh as he slouched back into the plastic chair.

“I wouldn’t get involved if I were you,” Mrs. White warned, clearly noticing your interest in him, “From what I’ve heard, he’s nothing but trouble.”

You nodded. “Believe me,” you lied, “I know when to stay away.”

~oOo~

A sigh of relief left your chest the second the final bell rang at 3:15 that day. Teaching 10 and 11-year-olds how to structure essays all day really drained you, no matter how polite and well-behaved they were.

You gathered your belongings quickly and were walking briskly to your car when you heard your name being called behind you. You turned to see Dewey, and you couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows. He was carrying what looked like stacks of sheet music.

One misstep and he’d be picking up papers until sundown.

“Uh, hi,” he said as he caught up to you, the cold January air making his breath visible. He attempted to extend his arm for a handshake, but retracted when the heaps of music in his one arm began to falter. “I’m uh, I’m Dewey. Or ‘Mr. Finn’ as the kids say, but you can call me Dewey.”

Looking at him more closely, you decided he was even cuter than you first thought. With Mrs. White’s warning ringing in your ear, a part of you wanted to turn the other way, tell him you were in a hurry to get home, make up some excuse to not get involved.

But it was clear he was interested in you, and you’d be lying if you weren’t at least a little intrigued. And besides, it’d be rude to not at least introduce yourself, right?

“Hi, Dewey,” you parroted, giving him another once over. “I see you already know my name.” He was already flushed from the cold, but his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Right, well, I got it from the staff directory. Just…wanted to introduce myself. I teach the kids music after school most days.”

“I know who you are,” the statement came out colder than you intended, “I did see you this morning, do you make a habit of hanging out in the teacher’s lounge?”

He gulped. “No,” he answered, “No, I just…I had a meeting with Rosalie this morning about the spring concert.”

Pure enough excuse. However, Mrs. White had also let it slip that he and Ms. Mullins apparently had a fling a few months prior, which only intrigued you more. What was so special about this guy that he could avoid a criminal trial for identity theft and date his boss in one fell swoop?

“I see,” you said coyly, trying to scrutinize him without being too obvious, “And are you and Rosalie…close?” If Dewey’s face was pink before, it had now turned to an embarrassing shade of scarlet.

“Oh, um, no,” he said, clearly flustered. “Nope. She’s a great…lady. And really cares about the kids. But…no. Not very close.” You nodded, completely unconvinced. You didn’t want to believe the gossip, but with a response like that, how could you not at least consider that it could be true?

Dewey shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his grip tightening on the sheet music. “We kissed,” he blurted, exhaling heavily, “Like, twice. She’s great but…I’m single. Very single.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his honesty. It was oddly refreshing. “Should I be taking that as some kind of hint?” you flirted, smiling softly. You couldn’t care less that your nose and fingertips were growing red from the cold.

“Only if you want,” he said, a shy smile dancing on his lips. Panic overtook his features only seconds later. “I mean, shit, not to be too forward or anything—”

“You know, you are terrible at this,” you said, cutting him off. Dewey flashed an embarrassed grin, letting out another breathy laugh, “How about I just give you my number and we just go from there?”

The two of you quickly exchanged digits and walked to your respective cars separately, unknowingly sharing excited smiles that lasted all the way home.

~oOo~

A few weeks later, you found yourself sticking up flyers for the School of Rock’s annual midwinter concert after the final bell had rung. Dewey had somehow roped you into posting the brightly colored papers on every corkboard, chalkboard, and section of blank wall space in the school.

“I thought you’d be headed home by now,” you heard Mrs. White call from down the hall. You jumped slightly, the haughty timbre in her voice surprising you.

Plastering on your most innocent smile, you turned to face your colleague. “I will be soon,” your voice was dripping with saccharine sweetness, “Just hanging these flyers and then I’m home free.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “Any big weekend plans?” You shook your head, turning back to the wall where you stuck up another flyer. You hoped she would just walk past and be none the wiser.

Mrs. White approached you, skeptical. You were friends, sure, but she was old enough and smart enough to know when someone was hiding something.

And unfortunately for you, as soon as she caught a glimpse of exactly which flyers you were hanging up, it all clicked.

“I thought I made it very clear that Mr. Finn was nothing but trouble,” she said, sounding eerily like a disapproving mother. Despite your heartrate increasing rapidly, you remained calm.

An incredulous scoff left your lips as you placed your free hand on your chest, “Mrs. White,” she rolled her eyes at you using her surname, “I was simply assisting another educator in promoting a fundraiser for this school that seeks to promote the arts and enrich our students’ lives.”

“Did you rehearse that?”

“A little. But I mean it, Mr. Finn has been nothing but professional. We’ve barely even spoken outside of planning the concert.”

That was a lie, of course. The truth was, ever since you and Dewey had exchanged information, you had texted and called and even met up a few times outside of school. Of course, they couldn’t exactly be called dates—at least that’s what you told yourself.

He seemed nervous around you at first, sure, but as soon as you got to know him, that faded away and you were left with a carefree, albeit scatterbrained work buddy. And despite the occasional flirt, it was clear that he wasn’t as interested in you as you first thought.

Which only crushed you the tiniest bit.

Mrs. White glanced at the colorful flyer again, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, “Well, of course I’ll be there to support our students’ artistic endeavors,” she said, a small smirk on her lips, “But don’t think I still don’t have my eye on you.”

You could tell she wasn’t being completely serious, but a small shiver of fear still wracked your spine as she walked towards the exit, the click clack of her pumps echoing on the linoleum tile.

You called goodbye sweetly, playing your role as nothing more than a helpful new teacher who was just excited about music education. Stapling up the last piece of paper onto a mostly bare bulletin board, you couldn’t help but overhear the noise of excited chatter coming from the music room down the hall.

The door was closed, but you managed to sneak a peek through the tiny window to see Dewey chatting with the bassist, who was about the same size as her as instrument. You felt a grin creeping onto your face.

Dewey’s passion for music came out the most when teaching the kids; even after watching him play a gig at the Roadhouse, you never saw his eyes light up more than when he was in that practice room.

You turned away and took a few steps toward the exit when you heard the door creak open, the chatter growing louder before muffling again. “Are you spying on me or something? You’re already getting into the concert for free, ya know.”

Dewey’s voice was more hoarse than usual, the gruffness making your stomach flip. “Not spying,” you teased, glancing over at the bulletin board, “Just doing your job for you.”

He clutched his heart dramatically, “You wound me,” he smirked, “But seriously, thanks for doing this. Hopefully we can drum up some more buzz.” You waved off his praise.

“No trouble. Consider us even since you had to suffer through listening to me babble on for way too long last night.” You two had made a habit of call each other late at night, which only confused your feelings even further. Your brain couldn’t decide if you were just co-workers, friends, or something more.

Apparently, Dewey couldn’t decide either.

“It’s okay,” he replied, running a hand through his messy waves, “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” He bared a toothy smile, wiping his palms on his dark jeans. His casual remark was innocent enough but still found a way to make your heart ache.

You decided the best course of action was to turn the attention away from yourself. “Well, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble with attendance,” you said, referencing the brightly colored flyer again, “From what I hear your kids are incredible.”

He beamed like a proud parent. “Yeah, yeah they are,” he said, “And thank you for spreading the word. Some teachers around here still aren’t too keen on me, after, well…everything.”

You felt yourself frown, your mind flashing to Mrs. White’s warnings. From what you could see, everyone had misjudged Dewey. He was kind, passionate, albeit far less put together than the other Horace Green staff, but he loved teaching and he loved those kids.

Wasn’t that enough to take a chance on?

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence, “What are you doing tonight?”

“Well, I did have big plans with my couch and a shitty movie, but—”

“You and me. Tonight. Roadhouse.”

“Okay?” he laughed, taken aback by your abruptness.

“And this is a real date, Finn,” you added. “No take backs.” A look of panic flashed across his face, and for a split second you wondered if you had made a terrible miscalculation. But how could you not take matters into your own hands after his weeks of mixed signals?

Before you could open your mouth to apologize profusely for stepping way over that friendship line, Dewey grabbed your arm lightly, pulling the two of you around the corner and away from the only occupied classroom on a Friday afternoon.

And he kissed you.

Softly at first, so gently that you felt yourself melting into the cold painted cinderblock wall as he grabbed your waist. Prep schools weren’t designed to be the most romantic of places, but perhaps that was for the best.

Nevertheless, you let your eyes flutter shut as your lips molded to Dewey’s, your breath hitching in your throat. After a few seconds he pulled away, a shocked look on his face that surely mirrored yours.

“Sorry,” he muttered, a smirk creeping its way onto his mouth, “Surprised myself with that little stunt, huh?” You nodded as he peeled himself away from you. You instinctively checked your surroundings, but you were alone.

“Dewey, are you insane—”

You wanted to be angry with him for risking both of your jobs, but the fluttering in your heart was overwhelming. One thing was for certain, there was no mistaking that signal.

“I just, I couldn’t wait until tonight,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “But yes. I’ll see you tonight. No take backs.”

You smiled as he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, and watched as he happily sprinted back to his students.

*****

thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed!

read part 2 here!

145 notes · View notes

because-she-goes · 7 months

Text

cinnamon

warnings: bit of matty headrot, some enemies to lovers, old lady thinking they’re a couple trope, swearing, some pretentious music references. Enjoy!

With a click and a woosh, the document Rooney has spent the past month or so working on was sent to the editing team. For the past month, Rooney has spent every day thinking and writing solely about Matty. Glad to finally have every last one of her thoughts about him out of her brain and sent off for someone else to deal with, she decided to take Arlo for a walk before heading home to Bowness-On-Windemere. where she would begin the planning stages on her next piece for NME.

Grabbing her keys and Arlo’s leash and giving it a jangle, she awaits the puppy to come bounding to her. From the door, she sees her adorable companion come around the corner, and near her. Panting, barking, blissfully unaware of how Rooney has barely slept and is in desperate need for some fresh air and a fridge restock as she’s been living off of microwavable instant ramen the past week.

Clasping the leash on Arlo’s collar and stepping out into the world, she locks her door behind her and starts walking around Notting Hill. Passing the famous bookstore with teenage girls excitedly waiting to get inside the rather underwhelming building - she was once one of those girls. She too once thought it would be a wonderfully curated shop like in the movie only to find out that it truly only sold bestsellers and what she had seen on the glossy pages of magazines where publishers pay the company for the advertisement. Dreams of her local bookstore back home came to mind, bookshelves filled with Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau and Louisa May Alcott - real literature she thinks, the type that got her to want to be a writer in the first place. She soon became overwhelmed with how much she loved her life now and how amazed she was by it. If young Rooney could see herself now and how different her life was…

Smack, splat. Onto the ass of her jeans she falls - Arlo’s leash coming out of her manicured hand. Arlo jumps onto her hind legs and as luck would have it, a mop of curls come into her periphery. For fucks sake. He sticks a hand out to help her and she bats it away.

“Yikes, clover! Geez it’s just me, no need to get your panties in a bunch.”

“I’m fine and for the record, my panties are none of your business Healy.”

“We’ll see about that…anyways, who is this adorable creature?” Matty bends down to grab the leash and pat Arlo’s side softly.

“Arlo… after Guthrie.” That just about knocks Matty on his ass, who else would know about american folk singers - let alone enough and have enough passion about them to name their fucking dog after them. Matty’s own dog comes to mind and he really named Allen after the american poet Ginsberg. They were too alike, he thinks. He silently melts as he watches her fumble to her feet and bends to dust off her jeans, her crimson hair blowing in the London breeze. He looks away quickly when he spots a series of delicate ink lines dancing and swirling down her spine. It is like he is reading her teenage diary, something sacred and deeply personal, like another aspect of her life has been revealed to him. If only he could see the whole piece of artwork. if only he could see it fully, if only he could know Rooney fully. Truly know her, not just as a work acquaintance or friend. Matty immediately wants to know what side of the bed she sleeps on, what music she listens to while cooking, if she prefers scented or unscented laundry detergent. In an instant, he is even more enthralled by her. It is in that moment, while he takes her in and pets her dog that Matty Healy knows he is well and truly enraptured. He comes out of his spell when he feels Arlo brush against his knees a bit.

“May I join you and Arlo on your walk?” She looks into his eyes finally, they’re ocean deep and for the first time she feels like she can see Matthew. Not Matty Healy, the frontman or the guy trying to impress her in an interview, Matthew. The guy stood in front of her, petting her dog in his blue nike hoodie, sweatpants and sneakers. He looks like himself, not someone he is trying to be. She realizes she loves that about him. How comfortable he is in himself, how he can jus5 be Matty. She could only hope to have that level of confidence someday.

The rest of the walk is sublime, a picturesque day in her area of London. An ideal fall day, bright and sunny with still a nip in the air. They make their way to the Notting Hill Market. Matty still holding Arlo’s leash while Rooney scrolls on her phone to find some good walking music he may like. It is about a 15 minute journey to the market from where the two collided. Her iPhone begins to play No Matter What by Badfinger, one of her personal favorite bits of 70s music she would play while cooking. The harmonies, guitar riffs and percussion fill the air between them - Matty quietly whistling along to the tune. He always loved Badfinger and his dad would play it in their family car growing up - the fond memory of childhood planting a grin across his cheeks. Rooney continued selecting the music for their walk, not bothering with small talk since the two felt so comfortable in their quiet enjoyment of the afternoon together. Badfinger which turned into David Bowie then the Sex Pistols and The Clash finally finishing their walk with Supertramp.

Rooney made a note to herself to see if Matty liked her beloved Emerson, Lake and Palmer. Before she could ask, he had pulled her and Arlo towards a stall in the corner of the market.

“Hummingbird Bakery? I haven’t ever heard of this place, is it any good?” She quickly, albeit a bit nervously asks her companion.

“Best on Portabello Road, Sugar. Trust me.” He adds with a wink

“I never said I didnt, did I?” She adds with a smirk.

“Good. Hi Darling, A slice of the Halloween Batty Orange Chocolate Cheesecake and a pack of the assorted vegan cupcakes. Thank You!” Matty orders with a smile to the older woman working the stall.

“Here you go, dear and something for the adorable little munchkin down there. It’ll be 15 pounds.” The sweet woman informs, handing Rooney their treats as well as a pup cup for Arlo. Matty hands her some money and they thank her.

“Have a lovely rest of your outing , you two love birds!” She adds as they walk away.

“Oh we- we aren’t…. we’re not…” The pair stumble over each other frantically trying to correct her as Arlo eyed the pup cup ravenously hungry.

“Cute. Don’t worry, you’ll both realize it soon.” The woman winks and the two decide to just leave her be and enjoy the pastries at a bench nearby.

Matty takes a bite of the cheesecake and lets out what can only be described as a pornographic moan. He points at it, mouth full of sugar and hands it to Rooney. She mimics the action exaggeratedly throwing her head back.

“Fuckin hell, Healy! Who knew you had such good taste in sweets… and how did you know I loved chocolate oranges?” The redhead asks him once she’s passed the cheesecake slice back over and eaten her bite.

“You think my taste in sweets is good, you should see my dinner spots.”

“Not happening! Totally unprofessional, please I can’t be going on a date with the fuckin guy I’m writing an article about… are you mad?”

“Oh c’mon go on one date with me, Atkinson. I promise no funny business.” Matty says a silent prayer, he doesn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes when he says Atkinson. He takes another bite of the cake, humming in delight. He knows he is gonna win this. He passes her the pasty.

“Will it get you to leave me alone?” Please say no, please for the love of god let him say no. God, a date with him would rot her brain for good. God, why does this cheesecake have to be so good. She passes it back to him after her bite.

“Never. I'm addicted, sugar.” Another fucking wink, bite and pass. Jesus christ.

“Fine, Healy. Pick me up at 8pm, heres my London address.” She finishes the cheesecake, scrawls her address onto the wraper of the pastry and shoves it in his coat pocket roughly.

“Perfect. I’ll be counting the minutes.” He sings as she takes Arlo’s leash, her cupcakes and walks off. Fuckin hell, what has she gotten herself into.

#the 1975 #matty healy #drew’s writing :)#the lakes #matty x rooney #i love them sm #hope u guys like this :))#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x oc

23 notes · View notes

reg-arcturus-black · 11 months

Text

Enough is Full of Romance Part 3 - Yet Another Surprise!

Where 2 brilliant talented people fall in love and navigate a life filled with paprazzi, rumors and a private romance after being introduced by their common friend. They say wrong person, right timing is a real thing but Ben and Y/N know they have a deep connection and they will wait for however long it takes!

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

2.8k words

It had now been quite some time since your encounter with Ben. He had not tried to contact you and neither did you. However, your Instagram post with him did prove to the world that you had met your favorite celebrity. It was a nice picture. Simple enough to not spark rumors but it still did anyway. Finally met Sirius Black! # Fangirl you had written.

You were sure that Ben had seen the post because that is what Andrew told you. He had not pried into the matter and you were grateful. Not because you did not want to tell him but because you did not know what to say. It had all happened so suddenly. One moment you were about to kiss and the next, your past was driving away your present.

You were in your bed buried under the sheets when your phone buzzed.

"Y/N Y/L/N is currently suffering from identity crisis. Please leave a message." You said and hung up.

It buzzed again and answering, you groaned into the phone. "It's 8 in the morning. What do you want, Ands?"

"I feel like you have wallowed in self pity long enough, now get up." His voice said on the other end of the line.

"No. Anything else?"

You heard him sigh. "It's just an award, Y/N. How long will this go on for? It's been a week!"

"I am not even going to respond to that... Besides, I am not wallowing any more. Madison is coming over."

You said the name too softly and quietly for him to hear, knowing his reaction already. He didn't like her one bit. Claimed that she is not good for you. You disagreed. You had met her only a few months back but you had become quite close. She was there for you when you needed her. She was a little loud at times but she always made sure you felt appreciated even if... No no. She was a nice person and a good friend. Andrew had nothing to worry about.

"Who?" He asked.

"Just... Just a friend," you mumbled.

"Y/N..." He said, his tone serious.

"Madison."

"Y/N, we have had this conversation million of times... You-"

"So you know that she is a good friend who offered to be with me when I just lost an award."

"I-I didn't mean it that way, darling." Your best friend's voice softened instantly at your jab. "I just didn't want you losing your sleep and happiness over an award, doesn't matter whichever one it is. Your fans, family and friends are the testament to how impactful and amazing your music truly is."

"You truly think that?" You asked, finally peaking your head out from under heavy blanket.

"I do, Y/N. I really do."

"Thank you, Ands. I needed that."

Your phone conversation was cut off when your bell rang.

Andrew sighed, again. "Well, that's my cue. Call soon." He said and hung up.

You rolled out of bed, still in your blanket and dragged yourself to the door, opening it slowly.

"You look like shit." Madison said, eyeing you from head to toe. She walked past you into the kitchen and put her shopping bags on the table.

"Wow, thanks, Mads." You tried to sound sarcastic but already growing conscious about you unwashed hair and white tshirt with ketch up and mustard stains on it.

"I told you to stay away from burgers, Y/N. It doesn't look good on you. Especially the cheese ones." She added.

It was your turn to look at her. Her shiny, flowy hair, perfect face with the perfect sun glasses on them, perfect tank top and shorts highlighting her form in the perfect places.

"But it's my comfort food," you mumbled softly to yourself.

"Anyway, you need to clean yourself up so that I can start cheering you up." She moved you towards your room. "And look what a mess you've been living in!"

Your cheeks suddenly flamed when you remembered the cheese burgers you've had in the last few days and discarded their wrappers not bothering to look for a dustbin.

"I have to go make a few calls meanwhile you, clean up your room and take a bath..." She said, pushing you gently towards the bathroom.

"Fine, fine." You surrendered. "Wait, why do you have shopping bags at 8:30 in the morning?"

"Oh, you'll see." She said and walked out the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Maybe I do need to dial down on the cheese burgers," you sighed and started picking up your mess. You first collected all the pieces of trash and threw them in a dustbin, but then remembering you might as well take out the trash. Madison was on the phone when you asked for her help so that's why she probably didn't hear you.

You then focused on the bed. You changed the sheets and put the old ones in the washer. Neatly arranged your blanket and finally went for a bath. You washed and scrubbed and shaved and finally breath in relief when you felt like you were feeling better.

"My, my, don't you look fantastic." Madison said, the moment you walked out. "Some might say, you look even prettier than I do!"

Her voice had a hint of seriousness and you did not like it.

"I am only joking, Y/N. Now let's go!" She handed you your bag and phone and putting her arm through your arm, she started towards the door with car keys in her hand.

"Wait, who is that?" Your eyes suddenly widened at the sight of strange men in your kitchen. "What are they doing here, Mads?"

"You’ll see. Now let’s go!" She pulled you out the door and into her car and started driving.

"Can you at least tell me where we are going?"

"Oh you will see. It is the perfect place."

She drove in silence for a while before asking you a question she seemed like she wanted to ask since forever. "I heard there was a guy in the scene. What happened."

What happened was the question that you had been asking yourself, too. Maybe talking about it with someone else would help. Because you knew Mads would understand.

"It’s - it’s kinda complicated, Mads but -"

"Oh, hey, that’s okay. I get it. You will never believe what just happened."

"Oh... okay, then." You said with a tinge of sadness.

"So I went to Starbies to get us some coffees but on the way over I got so sleepy so I had to drink yours, too. Well, it’s not like you aren’t going to treat me now hahahaha."

"Sure I will." You said, slightly amused, slightly confused.

Soon she stopped in front of a dress store. "Retail therapy," she winked.

She barged into the store as if she owned and started exploring.

"Mads..." You said softly. "This place is pretty expensive."

"But it is worth it. See," she said, holding up a black strap less to your face.

The moment your eyes fell on that dress. you fell in love with it. With a mischievous smile on your face, you took it to the changing room. But a part of you that was refusing was right. It really was not your style.

You stepped out shyly, looking for Madison.

"Oh... " She said when her eyes fell on you. "You look beautiful." Her tone was that serious one again, as if she did not like it.

"I - I shouldn’t right. I’ll put it back on the rack."

"No," she said firmly. "This is what you are wearing for the rest of the day. I don’t want to hear anything else."

You knew arguing with her was futile so you watched her shop for the next hour or so silently, scrolling on your phone, noticing fans and looking at edits. Soon, it was time to go.

"I am sorry, Sarah, is there anyway to pay for it while keeping it on?" Madison asked the women at the check out, reading her name tag.

"Sure," she said and brought some high-tech wand to remove the magnet and scanned the code.

Madison pulled out the tag while you handed her your card.

"Shall I bill these together, ma’am?" Sarah asked looking at Madison's dresses at the counter.

"Oh, for sure." She answered.

Too stunned to know how to respond to that, you just gave a small smile. She collected your card from her and walked out with you, linking her arm with yours again.

With more than 3 bags already in her hand, Madison took you to four more such stores where she shopped and you waited. You were thankful for your fully charged phone without which you would have died of boredom.

She then took you to a fancy cafe and a makeup store and got done a full face make up for both of you. But you had admit, it went pretty well with the eyes. Smoky black eyes and dark lipstick seemed to complete your look.

"Come on, Mads, I am ready to go back, please."

"Fine fine," she replied and got into the car, throwing her bags of over expensive clothes on the back seat.

"You are awfully quiet and I am scared of that. What is going on?"

"You’ll see."

You brain was alrerting out SOS alarms but you know it was of no use. Madison's smirk had started intensifying halfway and it had only worried you more.

When she finally pulled into your driveway, you breathed a sigh of relief and rushed towards the door, your friend close behind. The house was dark considering you had left it almost 12 hours ago with random men.

"You have to tellme what is going on before I lose my mind, Mads!" You pleaded, reaching for the switch.

The moment you turned the light on, you heard people yelling from behind.

"Surprise!"

There were over 50 people in your house with each wall decorated with party lights and... pictures of Madison?

Recovering from the shock, your eyes finally fell on Andrew, as handsome as ever waiting for you to notice him.

"No way," you shook your heads and jumped into his arms. He welcomed you by lifting you up and spinning you around. "How am I ever going to equal up to so many surprises?"

He laughed and put you down, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. Your eyes then scanned the room, recognising almost no one except three people.

"Thank you, Mads... This is amazing!" You brought her into a hug as well. "Who are all these people, though?"

"Oh, these are just my friends."

She cleared her throat loudly, bringing everyone's attention to her and grabbed a champagne glass. "Ladies and gentlemen," she started. "Today, I stand before you to express my deepest appreciation for someone truly remarkable in my life. Your unwavering support and unending loyalty have uplifted my spirits and propelled me towards greatness. Your presence has made me shine brighter, and I cherish how our friendship has shaped me into the remarkable person I am today. Thank you for being my constant reminder of how fabulous I truly am. Cheers to us, my dear friend."

The crowd cheered and clapped. All, except Andrew. You simply gave him a questioning look but he didn't respond.

"Hey, what's with pictures of you?" He asked suddenly, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I thought this was a party in Y/N's honour."

"Yeah, a party which I arranged," she replied in the same tone. "It's a practical joke, come on people! Anyway, let's party!!"

The crowd cheered once again and went back to what they were doing, your presence forgotten by all but one.

"We need to talk," Andrew whispered and dragged you with him to the balcony. "This is not okay!"

"What is not okay, Ands? And can you please not pull me like that. I've been enduring that all day!"

"I am sorry... But that's what I am talking about. Do you not see what she is doing?" His anger made the gentleness in his voice disappear but you knew he was just looking out for you.

"She just hosted a party, what is wrong with that?"

"How can you be that blind, y/n/n? Please wake up. She is -"

"Y/N!" Madison called from behind you. You turned around and saw her approaching you. "Am I interrupting something?" She asked a little too sweetly.

"Actually, we were in the middle of-"

"I wanted to introduce you to everyone. Come." Without another glance at Andrew, she pulled you by your arm and started taking you around the room.

Andrew did not miss how you wanted to run away and were visibly frustrated of being pulled around. He made a mental note to apologise to you again for dragging you to the balcony.

You were barely registering names or faces as she led you through a sea of people you had never even seen before. They were apparently Madison's online friends who now had your address. You shook hands and have smiles to everyone until you could not take any more.

"Okay, everyone out!" She screamed out of nowhere. "Y/N is tired and would like some peace with only her best friend."

"Wait, what?" Before you could stop them, the people had already started leaving, giving you weird looks.

Andrew was in the kitchen helping himself to some snacks when Madison cleared her throat.

"It's okay, Mads. He is my best friend, too. He should stay."

"I don't see why but if that's what you want."

Asking Andrew to shut up, you called him and sat down on the floor next to her with Andrew to your right.

"What now?" You asked.

"Let's watch a movie or something." Andrew suggested.

"Yeah, let's do a Ben Barnes marathon!" Madison suggested. She didn't notice the way your eyes filled with sadness or the way Andrew clenched his jaw. "Which one? Avengers? Maze Runner? Blended? The -"

"Okay, he is not in any of them. Have you seriously watched NONE of his movies?" You asked and she simply shrugged.

The bell rang again and Madison practical jumped up to open the door. "Time for one more surprise."

"This night is turning out to be the night on tour and I don't want it to be like that again. Especially the second surprise." You buried your face into his shoulder.

"Oh, don't worry. I am sure it isn't Ben. Maybe just pizza."

He was wrong. Because it was Ben.

"Where were you, Ben?" You head Madison giggle. "I have been waiting! I am such a huge fan! I love all your movies!"

"Did her voice just change?" Andrew asked.

"Wow, what kind of party takes place on the floor with only three people?" He asked, reaching you.

You looked up and regretted it instantly. He had become even more handsome and you wanted to burst into tears as that night came back to you.

"This one apparently," Andrew answered.

"Oh, shut up," Madison scolded and sat down next to you, Ben opposite to her.

"You look beautiful, Y/N," he complimented sincerely.

"Thank -"

"You came at the right time!" Madison chimed. "We were just about to play Spin the Bottle!"

"We were?" Andrew mouthed and made a gagging face. He would rather die than be any where close to Madison.

Without waiting for anyone's reply, she grabbed an empty champagne bottle and spun it.

Much to his dismay, the two ends pointes to Andrew and Madison.

"No, ew, no way."

You laughed at how unbelievably adorable he was. He made no attempt to hide his hate for her and Ben saw that, too.

Ben, the one person who's gaze you were trying to avoid. But since your best friend had made so many efforts at trying to invite him, you sat quietly.

"Fine, fine," she rolled her eyes and spun it again. It landed on you and Ben. He didn't know how to respond or what to do. His eyes looked at you in confusion... and sadness. Your gaze instantly went to Andrew, silently asking for help.

"No, this game is ridiculous, Madison! We are not teenagers at some silly party!"

"But we are at a party," she huffed and spun it again.

Ben's eyes widened as it landed on him again, but with Madison.

Ben looked too uncomfortable to participate in this. Besides, Mads was your best friend and would not kiss him. Even for some stupid game.

But you were wrong, because that is exactly what she did.

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

Taglist: @padfootagain

22 notes · View notes

barthel · 11 months

Text

Radiohead, "Creep" (Live in Oxford, 2001)

youtube

As a band, Radiohead has always been legible. They tell you how to think about them: what their story is, what their music means. And if you were a Radiohead fan in the 90's, you knew they hated their first hit, "Creep." You knew this because they told you, but also because they made a series of albums that were aggressively the opposite of "Creep"'s anglo-grunge angst; because tour documentary Meeting People is Easy made clear their disgust with the kind of mindless fame a song like "Creep" engendered. "I want to have control," Thom had sung in the song, and now they were taking control of their narrative. They wanted to be smart, and "Creep" was not smart.

The problem was, if you were a Radiohead fan in the 90's, you yourself probably loved "Creep." When I first heard the song, I was just the kind of teen to feel that crunchy angst deep in my soul, and even as I went to college and wanted to seem smart and do smart things myself (OK Computer, Kid A, and Amnesiac are all very "I went to college" sort of albums), every moment of "Creep," from its chiming beginning to its jet-takeoff chorus to its transparent self-loathing, was a blast. My gross teenage soul felt seen. And anyway, wasn't Radiohead's rejection of the song exactly the kind of self-loathing that "Creep" itself had managed to capture so perfectly? I was a creep, I was a weirdo; what the hell were we doing there? Let's not do that again, guys. Come on.

After college, I spent a lot of time online arguing with past versions of myself. I was embarrassed about the college-age Radiohead superfan who'd spent hours decoding the band's inscrutable website updates, convinced that they contained some galaxy-brain higher message, some greater masterpiece. When In Rainbows came out, given away at the band's website for whatever you wished to pay, the fan narrative became that Radiohead had boldly pioneered a new economic model that would save the music industry. But by that point, I'd become knowledgeable enough about both music and the music industry that I could smugly point out to you the many ways in which that was wrong. (And, even today, I can do a solid 7 minutes on how In Rainbows devalued digital music.) I didn't listen to the album for years, even though, when I did, I liked it well enough. Your old self can get in your head, can become a region on your internal map filled with sea dragons and smoke. Don't go here.

When you're in your 40's, like I am now, you can't just react to your last identity; you have too many to choose from. It's easier to look back with regret on the many old selves you've lost than to boldly forge a new identity opposed to your last one. I was a writer for a couple decades, then got a professional job that didn't allow me to write. Since leaving it, I've been trying to put my writer-self back together, but in assembling my last bio, I noted that many of my publications were in outlets that no longer exist. It's easy to fall into regret; to feel illegible, your self-perception out of sync with how others see you. You can't afford these arguments with your past self anymore. You have to find a way to embrace them.

In 2001, after releasing Amnesiac, Radiohead played a triumphant homecoming gig in Oxford, where they'd all met at university. (Like I said: a very "I went to college" band.) At that point, they hadn't played "Creep" in four years, even as they'd put out two confirmed masterpieces, and all signs pointed to them never playing the song again. They weren't planning on playing it that day, either. At the end of their final encore, they began to play "Motion Picture Soundtrack," the bleak love song that closes "Kid A." It was written around the same time as "Creep," but where "Creep" is easily legible, guitars and lyrics united in message, "MPS" pushes against itself, a cozy organ contrasting harshly with Thom Yorke's declaration that he'll never be with the object of his desire, and will only "see you in the next life." But the crowd wouldn't hear MPS that day. The band flubbed the intro, and instead of starting again, Thom says, "Okay, I've got a better idea. This is a slightly older song."

As the first note of "Creep" hits, a sound erupts from the crowd: not just a cheer, not just a scream, but the clearest expression of release I've ever heard. It is a true surprise, a fulfillment of their heart's desire; one diehard Radiohead fans never expected to happen, or at least not that day. They sing along to every word. And the band shows no signs of the embarrassment they'd felt so strongly for the song since releasing OK Computer. Jonny launches into the first roaring chord of the chorus audibly out of tune, and you can hear a moment of hesitancy, the old embarrassment threatening to creep in, before he gives in to the song's pull. Thom sings it with a gleeful lightness. It's a reunion, a band realizing, in a flash, that they've had enough distance from their past self to love them again. You need that distance, need to see your earlier selves were right, or at least not wrong; not smart, maybe, but maybe smart isn't what really matters. Maybe what really matters isn't being smart or right but that feeling, that release, the crowd and the band together, in perfect purpose, deciding to love the sound itself and its adored history rather than the barren meaning of the words. The explicit legibility slips away into something richer and more complex, and together, they find joy in having made it far enough from that angst to view it with affection.

#radiohead #creep #Youtube

23 notes · View notes

sparrowsworkshop · 1 year

Text

“Out of Tune” by OneWingedSparrow for Zelzenik

@zelzenik Happy Valentine’s Day, here’s your Loftwing Letter!!! I hope the angst is satisfactory 😉 Written for the @zelinkcommunity Loftwing Letters event! 💖 (Hey, listen! Go follow that blog so you can read the other lovely LL fics and see the amazing LL art that everyone gifted to each other this year!) Fic Summary: The Hero of Time has passed from this world, leaving behind his wife and children. Zelda slowly begins to realize how closely her love for music and her love for Link were intertwined. Main Tags: Angst and Feels, Married Zelink, Major Character Death, Post-OoT and Post-MM, Grief, Mourning, Music

Read on AO3

Reblogs are appreciated! ~ The Goddess Harp was a sacred artifact, passed down through the royal family since the beginning of the ages. Such a treasure oughtn’t to fall out of tune. Yet, each time Zelda plucked the golden strings, the melody felt off. More and more, as she coaxed the Bolero out, the beautiful voice of the harp turned grating and unpleasant, a singer’s aria lapsing into a lamenter’s wail. Her fingers hesitated. The last notes died out, leaving a foul sound in the air. “It doesn’t sound quite right,” her eldest commented in the matter-of-fact manner of a boy not quite eleven. “I agree,” the queen said softly. “What do you suppose should be done, Daru?”

He shook his head in pity; his hair flew about. It was too long...too thick...too curly to compare. But the color was the same, and, underneath the green cap his father had given him...his hair made him altogether reminiscent of another boy she had known, once upon a time. “Hard to say,” their son said, dark brows furrowing quite seriously. “I could reset the strings. Shall I, Mother?” Reset. Do over. The way you are supposed to be…. “Please,” Zelda said, and handed him the harp. Steadfast in determination, Darunia gave his all; but after three days of work, his efforts proved to be in vain. * * * A breeze blew through the courtyard, ruffling the hedges. Pale sunlight crept across the stepstones. Ever stubborn, Impa bent over the flowerbed—refusing to let the work pass to younger backs. Seated nearby, Zelda watched her. The harp rested across her lap, untouched. “You don’t play as often as you used to,” Impa said. Her strong voice was weathered now, as wrinkled as her fingers. She dug through the soil, ripping up roots that had long since withered. The queen forced a smile, as thin and weary as she felt. “I suppose I no longer have it in me.” Her guardian paused to shake a trowel at her. “You always had it in you,” Impa countered with confidence. “You were singing since the day you were steady enough on your feet to skip around the flower garden. Music is a part of your soul, and not so easily lost. You will find it again.” But it was easily lost, Zelda thought. That part of my soul was lost along with him. * * * The Goddess Harp twanged a series of scattered, broken notes, as true to the desired piece as a burst of hiccups filling in for a sonnet. “How did it go, again?” Zelda whispered. The castle had long since fallen asleep, the halls empty save for the guards. They stood dutifully at attention, watchful keepers of the night. Since they had to stay awake anyway, she figured they wouldn’t mind hearing her practice. She gazed out the window, towards the full moon, though her tears made the light rather blurry. You’ve played this song a hundred times. You ought to know this, deep down. When she’d learned to play the harp as a child, the process had been slow-going, but rewarding. Relearning this art was another matter. Trying to convince herself of past, proven capability was somehow more awkward than believing she could do it the first time. Why is it so hard…? Months. It’d been months since one of the Hylian Captains had bowed before her, face to the ground, his voice choked up as he delivered the dreadful report. Months since she’d first held her children as they wailed, mourning over time forever lost, over the thrilling bedtime stories that their father would never finish. Months since she’d buried her husband beneath one of the trees he loved most, to sleep under a shroud of fallen leaves as red as blood. Try to remember, she cried to herself. One of the strings snapped. Zelda winced, instinctively placing her stinging finger in her mouth. The loud noise alerted the guards. Heads turned. Chainmail shifted. When they saw nothing amiss, they returned to their rigid postures. None of them marched over to see if she was okay. Forgivable. Had they asked so, she wouldn’t have been able to answer in truth. * * * On the first year anniversary, her youngest attempted to cheer her up. “For you, Mama!" her daughter exclaimed. She raised her pan flute, and played her very best. What she lacked in skill, she made up in enthusiasm, and every mistaken note was corrected with a jovial, improvised trill. Even so, the merry tune was bittersweet to Zelda’s ears. The timbre of the pipes was so close to that of the ocarina...but not close enough. A familiar voice could bear similarities, yet still be too distinct from the predecessor to bring peace to the heart. The queen blinked to force back the tears. “Beautiful, Aryll. Thank you.” Their daughter gave a dramatic bow, pigtails bobbing. * * * Winter was coming; the wind chill was strong. Zelda knelt under the maple tree. Her hair had snagged several brown, crusty leaves, forgotten remnants of brighter days. If her nose hadn't been stuffed, she might have smelled the richness of the earth, as low to the ground as she was bowing. The harp had been left at home...dropped on the empty half of the bed. Aryll was not here to accompany; Darunia not present to offer critique of his highly musical ear. The obligatory knight escort stood off at a fair distance. Zelda felt free to confess. “I’ve forgotten,” she wept over the roots below. “I’m...sorry.” I messed up in that measure. Sorry, Link. Did I throw you off? It’s okay, Zelda. If it happens again, I’ll cover that up with some harmony. Want to take it from the top? Reset. Do over. Oh, what she would give. Could she have held him back from that ill-fated mission? Prevented his death, if she’d known? I can’t play without you, she wanted to scream. I need you. Instead, her throat failed her. The whimper...almost sounded like a song.

28 notes · View notes

threephantomrey · 3 months

Text

February 5th 2024.

here we are. it’s officially been 5 years since the release of my comfort movie, my 2nd favorite Scooby movie, and my 2nd favorite movie of all time. Scooby Doo and the Curse of the 13th Ghost.

if you follow me or at least see me online on a regular basis, you probably know that i LOVE this movie. i always loved it more than most people. (i would also call myself a curse of the 13th ghost stan. and i think i’m the only 13 Ghosts stan that loves it lol) i remember watching it at midnight when it came out because i was so excited and couldn’t stop thinking about it i literally couldn’t sleep that night until after i watched it. (that’s why this post is going up at midnight tonight) and well, this movie had a big impact on me for the past 5 years. seriously, it means a lot to me on a sentimental level, and i’m going to get into that with this post, and also me thinking about this movie all the time and my opinions on it. today is probably going to be an emotional day for me, filled with many different feelings and a lot of love.

anyways this is going to be talking about the topic of mental health so just be warned if that’s a sensitive topic for you (cause i know it is for people and i get that)

sentimental stuff & me thinking about this movie all the time:

so let me paint a picture for you of my life around the time that this was announced and coming out. i was having the WORST mental health of my life. WHEN I TELL YOU IT WAS SO BAD OH MY GOD!!! i hated myself SOOOO MUCH. and was REALLY anxious a lot. i was dealing with a teacher that negatively impacted my mental health (she commented on my body sometimes, which made me feel even worse than i already did about my body back then, and did some other stuff that really pissed me off but we won’t dive into that right now) i was also living in deep regret of bad things i did online in 2018 and it was eating me up inside. i dreaded everyday. i had some pretty dark thoughts and couldn’t really see myself having a future. this movie was really the only thing that i looked forward to at all. (sounds dark but it’s true) because of my never ending hyperfixation over it and over the 13 Ghosts series, (which was caused by the release of the movie’s trailer, congratulations to my autism for that!!🥳😁) (though i was a 13 Ghosts fan before that, i actually started being a fan sometime in early 2018. i thought it was November 2018 up until a few months ago idk i was just misremembering) it was a distraction from my terrible mental health. it was an escape from the life i was living. this movie made me feel better. it’s not the ONLY thing that got me through that rough time in my life, there was music too. and one of my childhood friends that i still talk to on the regular is a person that got me through that rough time. she’s always there for me and i’ll forever be grateful for her, i love her so much❤️ but to say that it didn’t help me at all would be a lie. i didn’t realize that this movie got me through that rough time until last year, but im glad i realized it and i’ll always be grateful that it did. i’ll always be thankful that it provided comfort for me in a time where i really needed it. it gave me hope when i didn’t have much. and since i’ve lost friends and things that were important to me in recent years, i have related to how upset Vincent felt when he thought he lost Mortifer forever. plus, this movie gave me my Vincent and Asamad hyperfixations, and those two are big comfort characters of mine💙❤️ im not kidding when i say this movie changed my life.

i think about this movie 24/7. and it’s because of how much i love the artstyle, Vincent Van Ghoul and his outfits, Daphne and her outfit, Asamad Van Ghoul + him being the 13th ghost and Vincent’s ancestor. (top 3 Scooby reveals ever if you ask me) Velma telling Vincent that Asamad wanted redemption and was watching over and protecting Vincent and now that he’s safe, he can rest. (thanks Velma and Vincent! it’s your fault that i never stop thinking about Asamad!) Vincent’s plane, Vincent and Mortifer flashbacks. Mortifer impersonating the 13th ghost and betraying Vincent. (which i think there should be more jokes about in the fandom cause it’s funny to me) Mortifer’s car getting destroyed and it being implied to be Asamad who destroyed it in an avalanche when he appears to Vincent in a cloud of smoke and snow, (LMAO) turning back into his human form, proving that the supernatural IS real. and Vincent feeling at peace with Asamad after🥺 (THE scene that changed my brain forever. i honestly think it’s cinematic, along with the scene where it zooms into Asamad’s portrait and then zooms in on Vincent’s face and he looks down in shame. two of my favorite scenes in this whole movie and in the franchise in general) Mortifer causing avalanches with his car and just being a terrible driver in general. Castle Van Ghoul. the banger that is the song “Scoobystition.” Velma almost opening the chest at the end but chooses not to after everyone tells her no, making her question her doubt. teen Flim Flam. the chest of demons merch that Flim Flam sells. Vincent reuniting with his kids. Flim Flam reuniting with his old friends. you get the idea.

i’ve had criticisms about this movie before that a lot of the fandom has. hell, i made a video with some of them in 2021. and i will admit i remember ranting to an online friend back in 2019 that the Velma explanation thing felt like a big FU to 13 Ghosts fans. and i remember being disappointed with the ending after i watched it for the first time but i don’t believe that anymore and am not disappointed anymore. and i said i had sort of a love/hate relationship with this movie around the time i first watched it. but i don’t have those criticisms anymore and i just have a love relationship with this movie now. but no matter what, i could never bring myself to full on hate this movie. my love for this movie is too strong. stronger than any mass hallucination from high altitude oxygen deprivation in the Himalayas or any swamp gas😭

and it’s not that i don’t understand why people don’t like this movie/hate it/have those criticisms, because i do. also i get why people don’t like/hate return to zombie island. but i also like that movie and i don’t think it’s insulting or that the flashbacks shown there are lifeless or bad. and i think it doesn’t retcon everything about the original or too much. and i think it’s a good movie and i don’t think it’s a bad sequel and i also consider it canon. (plus the gang run monsters over with the Mystery Machine which is awesome and makes the movie automatically better. we should talk about it more because it’s hilarious!) even though i agree that the flashback scenes look better with the artstyle of the original ZI movie and that RTZI is not AS good as the original. i think no matter what would’ve been done, people in the fandom would’ve still been disappointed with any ZI sequel because they still would’ve said nothing could live up to that movie. even though i don’t think a ZI sequel is destined to be disappointing, im just saying other people still would’ve been disappointed with any ZI sequel. shocking, i know right? and i recently realized i only said i hated RTZI before because of how most of the fandom hates it even more than they hate 13th Ghost after i rewatched it. but i love the original Zombie Island movie too and always have) but starting sometime in 2022, i’ve started to see some things differently. (a good amount of my opinions change quite often)

————————————

now i’m going to talk about my opinions since a lot of them i’ve been DYING to say for the past year. (yes that’s a Vincent pun) before i begin, if anyone is like “you have a very poor understanding of 13 Ghosts you’re a fake fan😡” or makes jokes such as “do you work at WB?” or “ok Jim Krieg lol” or anything like that in the comments, reblogs, or my ask box, you’re getting BLOCKED. i am NOT in the mood today. or any day really, but ESPECIALLY today. and no, i am not joking. i am 10000000% serious about everything i have said in this post so far and am about to say. and as much as i disagree with a lot of people’s opinions on this movie + RTZI, im obviously not going to defend WB or any of their executives. i fucking HATE WB for a number of reasons and i could not give LESS of a shit about Jim Krieg. (the guy who demanded no magic or real monsters in this + RTZI, and i heard that he had more creative control over RTZI. i don’t think he was involved in Happy Halloween though i’m going to assume he was not) i actually hate him because he was one of the writers for Scoobynatural in which Dean Winchester, a grown man, tries to get with Daphne, a 16 year old, throughout almost the whole thing and Sam Winchester, also a grown man, kisses Velma, a 15 year old, than for his insistence to keep the supernatural out of this movie. (not that i think him trying to remove any supernatural elements was good or that any of the studio meddling behind the scenes was good cause i definitely don’t, i’m just saying i hate him way more for contributing to what happened in Scoobynatural and i feel like he should get more hate for that. that’s a bigger problem) and i also hate him because he was the writer for Scooby Doo Frankencreepy, which has a gross amount of fatphobia. he is responsible for that and we should recognize that’s also a much bigger problem than his mandates on 13th Ghost and RTZI. we should hate on him more for the fatphobia in Frankencreepy too.

i know some people are like “oh if he doesn’t like supernatural stuff in Scooby, then why did he work on two sequels to versions with supernatural elements?” which i get and i don’t disagree with! (though i do disagree with the way people go about it. and what i mean by that is them being like “that’s why they shouldn’t have been made”/that’s why these movies are bad. or say that the mandate ruins the movies or when people say that’s why we shouldn’t be doing sequels) i don’t know if he specifically made any other mandates for 13th Ghost or RTZI that wasn’t the no supernatural stuff one, and there were other decisions made by WB that most of the fandom were upset about. but regardless though, i’m still suspicious about him being a writer for Scoobynatural. and sure, the Scoobynatural episode is only canon to Supernatural + being one of the writers is different than being a co-producer + that episode was not for kids (the guy says he doesn’t like supernatural stuff in Scooby cause he thinks it’s too scary for kids) + they probably had to put supernatural elements because the show is called Supernatural obviously. and yeah sure, it’s not a sequel to a Scooby series or movie with supernatural elements, but it’s literally a crossover between Supernatural and Scooby Doo Where Are You. (the guys get sucked into an episode of Where Are You by a magic tv) and yes, you could also argue that Scoobynatural was about real ghosts not belonging in Scooby Doo, but there WAS a real ghost there that the gang saw!!! even though at the end of the episode, the gang went back to not believing, everyone else + the viewers know it was real. it is 10000% confirmed in the episode. (also Castiel, a literal angel in the Supernatural show, was there too) and that episode came out only a year before 13th Ghost and Return To Zombie Island. (and after doing a little research, and by research i mean looking on Scoobypedia, i found out that he was one of the writers for the series Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated, a Scooby show from a decade ago that ALSO has real monsters. he was one of the writers for two episodes, both in season 2, so i’m also suspicious about that) basically what i’m trying to say is that i think something’s not adding up here/there’s something we’re not being told. and i read somewhere on the ScoobySnax blog that in an interview, he said he believes the message of Scooby Doo is that monsters being people in masks symbolize things not being as scary as they seem, and that there’s really nothing to be afraid of. i will admit, i don’t think that belief is bad at all nor do i care about him not liking supernatural stuff in Scooby either, but that’s not what the entire franchise is about. like we can still have fun with non-supernatural stuff in the franchise and then also have some fun with supernatural stuff in the franchise and some fun with ambiguity too! (i think he has this belief partially cause he probably grew up with only SD stuff that doesn’t have magic or real monsters) the way he goes about his belief? incorrect. the belief just on its own? neither correct or incorrect.

while i don’t think he should’ve worked on these films, i think if he really had to, he should’ve just not put those mandates on them and should’ve just pushed his belief to the side. sometimes, if someone’s working on something, there are some opinions that shouldn’t get involved in it. and this was one of those times. but yeah the other things he did that i mentioned earlier are definitely worse

AND ONE LAST THING!! this post was originally written in late November 2023 and has been edited many times since because i knew i wasn’t going to write this whole thing on the day of the anniversary + i kept thinking of things to say over time. just thought i’d let you all know❤️

okay here’s the opinions:

• i think curse of the 13th ghost is an amazing movie and was fun. i love the movie just as much as i love the series! i could never choose between them the same way i could never choose between Vincent and Asamad

• about its reputation specifically: this movie + rtzi gets too much hate from the fandom. now don’t get me wrong here, i’m not saying these movies don’t have flaws or that they are perfect because i don’t believe that. (i don’t think any Scooby movie is perfect or above any kind of criticism, not even Zombie Island) and listen, there are some problems i have with both and i won’t deny that. but i’ve been bothered this past year at points by the hate because of how much of it is there. not ALL of it but definitely a lot of it in the fandom. (i was bothered by only the hate for 13th ghost originally and then towards the end i started getting bothered by the hate for RTZI too) i just feel like it’s overwhelming, ya know? and im not saying people CAN’T hate them or not like them!! i’m not mad that people on the internet don’t like this movie!! (to be honest, i also feel like i have been too harsh on these movies at some points, especially RTZI) it’s just that almost everytime this + rtzi are brought up, there’s people who will jump at ANY chance to hate on them and sometimes it just feels like negativity for the sake of being negative and it bothers me. hell, sometimes they aren’t even mentioned at all in conversation like people will be talking about something else that’s Scooby related and then someone will bring them up randomly JUST to hate on them. like bro we GET it, you don’t like these movies. and i’m not saying that everyone does that cause obviously it’s not everyone, (and i am not bothered by anything my mutuals or people that i follow or people in the same discord servers as me have said at all i am not talking about them <3 im talking about some people in the fandom in general) but it REALLY pisses me off. like you don’t understand how much this shit gets me heated. i’ve been feeling this way for the past year and UGHHH it sucks because i don’t WANT to. but i do. anyways i think this movie deserves more credit for the good things it does. (same opinion applies to the other one, and i feel like these are underrated and misunderstood. not in a “you just hate fun and don’t get the complexity of this cinematic masterpiece” way, but in a “it’s not invalidating the originals or trying to invalidate the originals and the magic isn’t completely removed from them” way) and i know people are going to want to say “well, these movies were shitting on things that we loved so they deserve it!” but i disagree in every way possible 10000%. and regardless, it still hurts me to see a lot of people shitting on something that i love, especially since 13th Ghost means a lot to me on a sentimental level. not implying that it’s a personal attack on me cause obviously i know it’s not. don’t get me wrong, movies shitting on something you love is obviously terrible and does hurt. im just saying seeing a lot of people in the fandom shitting on something i love hurts and is terrible. the hate for 13th Ghost hurts me on a more personal level since that movie means so much to me on a sentimental level, but the hate for RTZI is more annoying to me since it gets more hate.

but ALSO i wish people would criticize 2 parts in RTZI more: in one of the flashbacks where they lightened Chris’s skin color (that was a mixture of a saturation issue and them actually lightening her skin color) and that part where a grown man tries to be romantic with Daphne, a teenager, and no one says anything about it. but this isn’t the first time a grown man was involved with Daphne or someone’s skin color was lightened in SD, so every time that does happen, that should ALSO be more criticized, not just in RTZI. we should bring more attention to that every time it happens, especially since we don’t do that enough. it’s wayyyyyy more of a problem than the things most people will hate on that movie for/criticize. we gotta focus on that more in the future. i also wish people would criticize the whole “confederate zombies being said to be the good guys” thing in Zombie Island more, but that is another conversation for another day. and i also am really annoyed when some people telling others not to watch these movies because they themselves don’t like it and think it’s bad or insulting or whatever reason they’ll say. and it’s mainly because i think people should be able to watch whatever they want and have their own opinions on it.

but yeah i definitely think these movies are hated on too much especially for the same reasons and i just wish they had better reputations i think they don’t deserve the hate they get. they don’t deserve the reputations they have. (i feel bad for these movies because of how much hate they get. i think it’s sad) the conversation around them is reductive. the conversation around these movies most of the time is “oh they say the originals didn’t happen,” “they retcon things from the originals,” “13th Ghost didn’t conclude the 13 Ghosts series/the gang didn’t capture the real 13th Ghost,” skeptic Velma, etc. it’s wayyyyy too much of that and not enough discussion about all the good things these movies do. they don’t get enough credit as much as they should. and there’s a lot to say about these movies. they’re definitely not movies that most people watch and then have nothing to say about them and they’re not forgettable. my feelings are complex okay guys😭

• Vincent’s plane is BEAUTIFUL when am i going to get to be on that plane????? this whole movie was GORGEOUS visually like they really made the backgrounds and literally everything look so beautiful. they did not have to go that hard but they really did. and everyone had GREAT winter outfits but tbh the gang always has great winter outfits so i can’t be too surprised. but yeah the winter outfits were amazing here, literally some of their best. and the Rubber Ducky being referenced was iconic

• i consider this movie to be canon and a good 13 ghosts sequel and finale, but just in the way most people didn’t expect it to be. i really love the Asamad redemption thing and i think it’s lovely that it brings peace to Vincent and now he’s at peace with his ancestor. and i know what you’re thinking: “Velma said she lied about it” and like yeah, she did say that. but because we saw Asamad appear to Vincent + because of her not opening the chest at the end because of everyone insisting for her not to, i believe that was her doubting herself and that Asamad really did get redeemed. she was like “ok i won’t open it because these ghosts might be real and i don’t want to risk that.” so i think it’s either she THINKS what she said about Asamad is a lie, but actually it IS the truth. or that, again, it is the truth and deep down, she actually does believe it but she’s just not admitting it because of her insistence throughout most of the movie to not believe in the supernatural. so i think the Asamad redemption thing is canon. and listen, i get that people wanted to see the gang capture the real 13th ghost in the chest. (it’s what i wanted too when the movie first came out) i get why people aren’t crazy about the Asamad redemption thing, that’s fine. and hey we ever get another sequel where Asamad is actually still evil and he does get captured, i would also love to see it. i still love the idea of him still being evil. (in general, i think there’s always more to add to the 13 Ghosts universe, so if they also expand on more 13 Ghosts stuff in general in a future piece of media, i would also be down to see it 10000%) though, ever since September 2019, i’ve been loving the idea of Asamad seeking redemption more than him still being evil. so i actually love this ending. (and especially if they ever expand on him and Vincent and the redemption thing in a future piece of media, i would be 10000% down to see it) (he’s the ONLY ghost from the chest im good with being redeemed, everyone else has to remain evil imo) and i think it’s a good ending for Vincent especially, now he doesn’t have to worry about his ancestor anymore and gets to have peace and move on, and the others don’t have to worry about finding him and capturing him. to me, it’s symbolic of letting go of the past/what haunts you and finding some sort of peace and moving on, now knowing that everything is going to be okay. and you’re starting to heal. and it’s very comforting, especially since i’ve been feeling that many times in 2023. so i’m content if this is the last time they bring 13 Ghosts back. i think it ended beautifully. it’s sweet and beautiful. (i can write fanfics as a way of expanding upon it, so i win either way lmao) i also get why people have a problem with Velma in this movie + RTZI. (im sorry i keep bringing up RTZI but i kinda have to since these are in the same trilogy and because of my feelings) but i personally don’t anymore? i used to, i even called this version of her insufferable a few times iirc, but after watching this movie like 483947384783378 times, i feel nothing towards her attitude at all now, and she’s not that annoying. even though i still agree that this is not an ideal version of Velma, it’s not an irredeemable or insufferable version of her either. and her character wasn’t ruined in my eyes at all. and she doesn’t ruin anything. but her explanations will always be fun to joke about! and i feel like people have been hating her more since these movies came out, which i think is really sad because Velma is an amazing character in general and has SOOO many lovable qualities.

also i cannot be a 2019 Velma hater because she gave me the Asamad redemption explanation. like she cooked with that and i am eating it up!! and i think the whole Vincent and Asamad thing fits 13 Ghosts so well because to me, 13 Ghosts as a show and the universe it takes place in is about family, whether blood related or not, and they are family since they’re blood related. and the gang is a family (found family, not blood related) and would do anything to protect each other and Asamad was protecting Vincent. so i think it’s actually a great ending to both the movie and the show. the story is wrapped up. but we can always go back to it and add more if we want. and i think that’s an ending that wraps up the plot of 13 Ghosts well. like i said, there’s always more to add to 13 Ghosts.

• ok for this next part im about to be so “well actually☝🏻🤓” with. Velma’s explanations are not her or the movie erasing the series and we weren’t supposed to take her explanations seriously. (sounds hypocritical of me to say i know cause i just said i believe in her AVG explanation but im just talking about the explanations that she used to try to disprove the supernatural now okay lol) she’s TRYING to “prove” it wasn’t real, but literally nobody else is agreeing with her and of course they know she’s wrong just like we know she’s wrong. the movie is saying she’s wrong. i feel like the whole sequel trilogy (that’s my new name for it) is saying her behavior is wrong. and there WAS a point in 13th Ghost where Velma believed in ghosts too before going back to not believing at the end. also in Happy Halloween, she kinda thinks about how’s she been acting and is like “ok maybe i should stop” and also says she trusts her friends more than science which is very cute. everyone else knows she’s wrong and she starts to realize it in Happy Halloween. and again, she refuses to open the chest at the end after everyone tells her not to. she CAN’T erase the events of the series or the events of Zombie Island, she doesn’t have the ability to do that, no matter how many times she screams “mass hallucinations from high altitude oxygen deprivation!” or “swamp gas!” so i think because of this + Asamad appearing to Vincent + Vincent making the cuffs that Mortifer put on him disintegrate + Mortifer’s illusions not really being explained + Vincent’s crystal ball teleporting the others outside also not being explained + the flashbacks, it’s proof that the series did happen and that magic and ghosts ARE in this movie. are there as much magic and ghosts as there are in the series? no, obviously not, but they’re still here. i think it’s the writers finding a way to work around the mandates and being like “we were told not to include magic, but this is literally magic right here.” (also i am of the opinion that real monsters in Scooby should be special and happen sometimes but not all the time, but that is somewhat different than what we’re talking about here. still always going to love real monsters in SD though!) (there was also a real cat person at the end of RTZI. again, still not as much real monsters as the original, but it’s still there) so Krieg TRIED to get rid of all the supernatural elements, but he didn’t actually succeed at it. this movie is not avoiding being supernatural, it’s just that there’s not as much magic here as there was in the original. i think this movie was done well even though yeah studio meddling is bad and i will always want things to be fair in the studio! (and it’s not the first time there’s been studio meddling behind the scenes of Scooby movies. even the ZI era had some) i really don’t think that this movie ruins the original, and the studio meddling did not ruin this or the entire trilogy it’s a part of. the original still exists people can still watch it whenever they want, it’s not gone. even if i did think the movie was bad like most people do, i still wouldn’t believe that it has the power to take away from the original or to ruin it. and it does not ruin people’s childhoods/poisons their childhood memories. this is also how i feel about any sequel or reboot ever made tbh. anyways im done talking about Jim Krieg i will not be talking about him anymore. so basically no, these movies never said or implied or tried to say or imply that the originals didn’t happen, they are not invalidating the originals at all. and they DO have some supernatural stuff in them, just not as much as the originals did.

• i love cheerleader Fred :)

• i like Mortifer being the villain because it creates some good angst between him and Vincent. and like i said, it’s funny to me

• the scene where Vincent tosses the chest aside tackles Asmodeus when he tries to attack Daphne, Shaggy, and Scooby is one of the best scenes in the entire movie like omg he really loves them🥹❤️

• Shaggy and Scooby were good at flying the plane idk maybe we should let them fly more planes in future SD stuff

• i think this movie is an important part of the franchise. and i think “Scoobystition” is an underrated Scooby song that should get more love.

• no this movie is not a nostalgic nightmare/nightmare in general or an insult/mockery to the franchise, the original, or the fans and i do not think that it shouldn’t have been made. it’s not pointless or a joke or disservice or disrespectful or cringe or disappointing/a letdown or that it’s a mess/doesn’t make sense or boring/mediocre. and the ending is not a slap in the face to the fans or bad or insulting or disappointing/a letdown or spitting in the face of the OG. and i don’t think that that the other 2 movies in the trilogy are all those things either or also shouldn’t have been made. the 3rd act of this movie is not bad/ruining it and is not the weakest part, (3rd act is actually one of my favorite parts) and these movies do not treat the audience like fucking idiots, etc. and i really also do not think that this is the worst Scooby trilogy or that 13th Ghost and RTZI are the worst Scooby movies. and i do not think this trilogy overall is not good/is bad and i do not think it’s a failure or a mess/doesn’t make any sense or that these movies are incompetent or unwatchable or irredeemable or frustrating/infuriating. and it doesn’t hurt for me to remember any of them, especially not this movie. im actually really glad this was made and like i said, it changed my life with the impact it had on me and how it got me through a rough time. like now i talk about Asamad and Vincent a lot. i ship Vincent and Mortifer. and the debut of Asamad led me to create an OC of mine who is his wife and i get to make fics about Asamad and his redemption thing. so i just CAN’T agree with people who say those things for those reasons alone. it’s crazy to think how i would be without it. i would still be hyperfixating over Shaphne, which isn’t a bad thing at all btw. im just saying, i wouldn’t be who i am right now if this movie hadn’t been made. and im glad the other two in the trilogy were made too. and i don’t feel insulted whenever i watch this movie or those. (i liked the sheriff being the villain in HHSD, i think it’s a good reveal and i think HHSD is a great movie too) tbh i also think 13th Ghost is the best out of the trilogy with Happy Halloween as a close second though i do think HHSD is the one with the best opening, and i definitely prefer this trilogy over the 80’s one and always will. i think it’s better. i like Ghoul School though it’s a cute movie <3 (i like Ghoul School better than RTZI and do think it’s better than that movie but i like this trilogy as a whole better than the 80’s trilogy and think it’s better) i also can’t look at this movie as a standalone film like my brain just associates it with 13 Ghosts automatically (same applies to the other one but with ZI of course) and i don’t think this movie would work better if it was standalone. (same with RTZI) i wish this trilogy got more love🥺 and i don’t understand how some people consider the first two some of the worst Scooby movies ever. also i don’t understand how some people think 13th Ghost is “just as insulting/bad” or worse than RTZI. and it also bothers me when some people will joke that they don’t exist. and no, the 13th ghost (Asamad) is not nothing or disappointing compared to the other 12.

• i don’t think the avalanche scene was too long or that there was too much of it. it didn’t bother me at all.

• i think Vincent couldn’t do magic for the most of the movie because he has trauma caused by his ancestor so whenever he sees him or someone that he believes to be him, he becomes powerless because his ancestor made him feel so powerless, like he couldn’t do anything. so it’s his body responding to whatever he was put through. this is based off him saying “ever since Asmodeus showed up, i haven’t been able to cast a single successful spell” (in-universe explanation)

• Flim Flam’s shop is one of the coolest things i’ve ever seen. also teen Flim Flam is awesome and so is his design! he still feels like the same guy but just older. and im happy that he’s doing well.

• i love Vincent’s puns they are funny and adorable. and also when he calls Flim Flam “his boy” OHHH MYYY GODDDDD THAT IS SO CUTEEE🥺🥺🥺🥺 im gonna need another sequel where he calls Daphne “his girl” NOW. and i hope he does see Flim Flam in town when he attends his coven’s next meeting.

and yeah, i know Daphne and Vincent aren’t exactly the way they were in the OG. like there’s been a few changes made. but i love the changes and they’re both amazing characters and well written and i love them so much in both the series and the movie! and i don’t think the movie was saying/acting like that’s exactly how they were in the OG, just that it’s how they are in this movie. and it’s not ruining Vincent or saying/acting like Daphne was or is exactly like Fred and could do everything. and im not at the point where im like “WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE???” like that one Spongebob meme. they both don’t feel too different to me like i don’t think there’s been too many changes made. and im just going to headcanon that Vincent got more comfortable around the gang which is why he’s more zany and lets them call him Vincent and that Daphne changed a little because of her fighting the demons. i still get enough 13 Ghosts vibes from her hair and outfit and this movie in general so it works well. there’s just a little new vibe added. it fits 13 Ghosts well. (i think there was always going to be a new vibe added/some changes made and part of why is because this was made at a different time than the series + this is a DTV movie + made by different people than the series was) but yeah i think the changes were good and i don’t have any problems or criticisms with them, i don’t think they were bad at all. and im going to headcanon Daphne wore that outfit and had that hair offscreen back in the days of the OG. (and yes i know one of the writers said that they were aware Daphne wasn’t exactly like that in the OG, but that’s how they saw her while watching it. im just saying i don’t think the movie was saying she was exactly like that in the OG)

• speaking of Daphne and Vincent, the scene where Asmodeus attacks them and she protects him? SUPERB. also her doing a spooky pun for him and he gets so happy about it is so🥺🥺🥺

• the 14th ghost joke is fun i love it

• i’m fine with Bogel & Weerd and Scrappy not being in the movie because there were some episodes of the series that Bogel and Weerd weren’t in. (obviously Scrappy was in every episode) yeah, it would’ve been interesting to see them brought back and im not saying they weren’t important characters in the show, im not against the idea of bringing them back and i don’t hate them at all. and im not saying the mandate to keep him out was good cause i don’t think that. i get why some people wanted them to come back, they are valid!! i remember wanting Scrappy to come back very much too around the time the movie was coming out. but im okay with them not being here. also Bogel and Weerd probably knew about Asamad’s redemption thing, so they were like “well, we’re not working for him now.” (in-universe explanation for why they aren’t in this movie) where was Scrappy during the events of the movie? Bogel and Weerd captured him and he went missing, but the others don’t know that and just think he’s still with his mom. why is he not included in the opening credits? Bogel and Weerd casted a spell so he wouldn’t be, they’re trying to erase any trace of Scrappy’s existence. (another in-universe explanation) (yes i know that the real world explanation is that WB mandated for him to not appear, and originally Flim Flam wasn’t allowed to be included either but they included him after a writer found a way to make him work in the story, but i just made my own explanation in-universe) and im not bothered by the “What’s A Scrappy?” joke it’s just whatever to me. like obviously i don’t love it but i’m not going in a seething rage over it. (i think i used to be bothered by it a few years ago, but im not bothered by it anymore and haven’t been for a while)

• about continuity: gonna have to talk about this for a bit. i don’t think there’s too much of what people will call “retcons” or “continuity errors.” i don’t think that the movie retcons everything from the original. and i think there’s enough references from the series to make the movie fit in the same timeline as it. and that’s all i have to say about that. (i do have this theory that Time Slime controlling time is why Flim Flam aged but the gang are teenagers though if anyone wants to read it)

————————————

you might be wondering who this movie and the entire trilogy it is from is for. the answer is me. i am the target audience. seriously, even if it is bad and im wrong about everything i just said, i still had fun with it! and i think that’s one of the most important things to me: to have fun with a movie. so if it’s trash, it’s MY trash and IM LOVING IIIIITTTT!!!!🥳🥳🥳 like that meme of a woman saying “what? i love garbage.” (also im the type of person that when i like a movie, 95% of the time i will genuinely think it’s good. and i will like something more after i rewatch or re listen to it lol) and i’ll take a bad movie ANY day over no movie at all. i definitely think there’s things in 13th Ghost that you might not notice on the first watch but notice during rewatches. and you know what? i really do love the mass hallucinations from high altitude oxygen deprivation in the Himalayas and swamp gas. sometimes they are just what i need.🤷🏻‍♂️

fun fact: i learned the term “criminal negligence” from this movie.

in conclusion:

here’s to Vincent Van Ghoul, Asamad Van Ghoul, Mortifer Quinch, teen Flim Flam, the avalanches, Mortifer’s car, and the jokes and memories and posts that were made along the way by me and my friends. to the never ending theories. to all the daydreams i’ve had influenced by this movie, to the growth i experienced these past 5 years. to all the demons i conquered and am still conquering today. to all the other Scooby fans out there who like/love this movie. to that 3 month period where i and so many other people were excited for this movie. (even though i would never want to go back to that time period, it was fun getting excited and coming up with theories and seeing the clips drop, and i look back fondly on those memories) sometimes i’m still surprised by remembering that this movie is real and was made, like i almost can’t believe this is an actual Scooby movie.

as Vincent was healed by Asamad’s redemption moment, i was healed by this movie in some ways. there’s no other movie i would choose to lose my sanity over in a fun and cool way! happy 5th birthday my beloved <3 thank you for everything. im glad you won that “best nostalgia era movie” poll last year on tumblr. i’m always going to love you and i think you will be remembered regardless of whether the general fandom opinion of you changes or not. i’ll never let go of or get tired of you. i think it’s beautiful how a piece of Scooby media in general can have impact on a person❤️

#scooby doo #curse of the 13th ghost #this post is very long oh my #ooh boy i think this is the most i’ve said about this movie in my entire life #glad to have made this though #anyways if you read all of this thank you SO much i really appreciate it #remember when i made that post saying that there’s a certain scooby movie that i have opinions on that i can’t say #well this was it #and im saying it now since it’s the anniversary + i feel confident enough to say them now #pumping up the queue now #mental health

3 notes · View notes