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ghoulishhusband · 3 years

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I just realized I can actually talk here. Like this is my account fuck u

Fucking uhhhhhh, hi ig lemme ramble abt my God ocs yea?

Ignore this part if you don't wanna hear (likely) unedited rambles lol it doesn't matter

CW: neglect/abuse, assholery/narcissism, manipulation, tread lightly!

read the under cut owo

Also don't steal my art I'll fucking?? Fight you????

I have three main gods that I wanna talk abt especially bc they've been on my mind lately.. Less get it, side notes are in (parentheses) and are bolded cause I have perception issues whoo I don't want it to jumble together is my point lol

First up is my asshole,

Giodine

they/them (preferred)

god/godself (i like pronouns that fit my characters, so I'm giving a bunch away for one night only at--)

ID : Giodine is colored with gold-ish yellow skin and ginger hair. Their eyes are a muted purple and they have tiny eyebrows. Their lips are a muted brown and are full looking, their nose is sharp and points down. They have wings for ears and is wearing a blazer with a long-sleeved, collared shirt underneath it. The background is beige with a yellow square and a dark purple square partially encompassing it. It is signed GH (for ghoulish husband), Spork, 21.

(lemme know if that helps at all! I'm sure I can do better so lemme know!)

If they look weird here it's bc I accidentally made their face too long but believe it or not this is in fact just a doodle Ik I'm so fuckin talented babes.

Anyways, they're basically the first God to ever exist on my version of earth (though even that is fickle rn, world-building is hard unless I hyper-focus on it, and haha Guess What I Haven't Been Thinking About) and they're very egotistical and selfish. As I'll probably yap about later is how they're manipulative as well, especially to another God I'll mention, and very neglectful to the other... other one.

Their partner(professionally), or fiend as they call him, is sam who for the first few eons was, unsurprisingly, absolutely terrible to him. A few tender moments are few and far in between in what could only be described as a completely rancid relationship. I'll describe giodine's side and in sam's lil ramble, I'll describe his :]

I have to explain this because it's a big part of the lore and how they can't work together, even when one of them is very much near The Void (technical death for gods) BUT basically, with Sam, giodine created purgatory. The issue here is that they basically seduced sam into doing it. Well, even if they hadn't, sam was in lesbians(happy pride month lmao) with giodine and would've done it anyway. But the ISSUE is that with the creation of purgatory came complications. See, my gods have to take time to develop into their power, and considering giodine was first and sam was around 666th.. you see the issue. Sam wasn't into his complete power yet and thus lost a giant part of it that went into purg.

See, giodine saw no problem with this (until much later, they do get a VERY SLOW BURN redemption arc cause this ain't even the worst of it), they got what they were aching for out of them and thusly had no need for..sam. They laid him in the spot where she was made (fwi it isn't inherently sexual, it can be, but literally, they just merged together-- taking bits and pieces of each other (which sam did not have enough of) and earth and light yadda, yadda I'll post the story I wrote for that later if I'm up to it) and left him there in the grass.

Again, they saw no problem with that, the deed was done, they didn't care anymore. A common issue in their qualms, sam and Giodine. They did find an issue in Sam finding an issue in the lack of aftercare, which resorted to any message going to or coming from sam going straight to his assistant and going back through them for a couple of thousand years. They found that infuriating-- how could he not face them over something so small! and for years?! it was ridiculous. After forcing a face-to-face meeting, a heated proclaim of hurt from sam, and a bitter agreement to meet up every now and again, they got what they wanted from him. Again. It was a business after all, there was no point in making it harder than it needed to be.

Giodine doesn't necessarily like boundaries and tends to overstep sam's frequently. They also don't like his reaction to his boundaries being long jumped over, which thusly ends up in disgruntled messages being sent back and forth between them and his assistant for a month or three. It slowly gets through to them, but they tend to say some stupid shit and if they want sam to stay, they have to try and avoid mentioning how "overly sensitive" he is to something that happened eons ago.

(quick mention, there isn't like. time. here. so in all honesty, giodine probably counted earth days instead of Heaven 'days' to get that) Soon into their arrangements to meet, they seem to get on at least tolerable terms, obviously, a few meetings where neither of them feels like going apeshit and taking proper shapeless (or in sams case, he's got a newfound form for ANGER OO just for giodine 🤗) forms isn't going to fix a grudge that has yet to be apologized for by the way. But it's a start to a very long process down the road. Tolerance.

Giodine as an entity is very fickle and rude and demanding. They tend to have a short temper that no one else is allowed to have or comment on-- They were the first therefore they were the most important!

This is very obviously an issue. But it's mostly directed to purgatory. Almost all of their seething rage is pointed towards the poor entity, she's barely been alive yet and they already seem to hate her for things she doesn't know how to do. Honestly, I don't think Purg will ever fully forgive them for the unnecessary abuse of her character, but just as Sam and Giodine get on better terms, they had barely just begun fixing the hole in their relationship. As of now, Sam/Giodine don't have any minor plot points with purgatory other than the major one so I don't have a lot to say about their relationship right now. Maybe one day.

I'd go into details, seriously, but I just wanna ramble about their relationships with each other and their impact on each other's existence. Hope you don't mind a few secrets 😉

But, now, it's time for a new God, one I think most people take a liking to...

Sam (Samuel)

He/him

ID: Sam is surrounded by clouds in the light blue, fading to a darker blue sky and the yellow sun. His horns are a darker beige, which is being highlighted by the sun shining down on him, he also has pointed ears. His skin is red which is very prominent in the sun. His eyes are completely yellow, his hair, beard and mustache are also black. He has an orange scar crawling up to his Adams apple. His wings are a darker grey which is also being highlighted by the sun. His nails are painted black and his hand is holding up the black fabric barely covering his shoulders. Around the painting is a gold and red shaded frame with swirls complimenting each side and a crystal at the bottom of it. It is lightly signed GH, for ghoulish husband.

Sam, Sam, Samuel.

If you don't realize right away, Sam is basically Satan, he's the ruler of hell

Like how giodine was the first to appear on earth, as mentioned before sam was 666th for funnie reasons. Sam was made from bugs, dried blood, and sunlight which sounds pretty gross, but he's far from it. He's a silly, yet neat, guy. He wears Hawaiian shirts and khakis (not around giodine lmao) for cryin' out loud! how bad of a person can he be? Apparently to giodine (for a while obviously) he was the most retched entity to exist. This very much hurt him considering the amount of fake care they showed him before. With a mixture of confusing feelings (which wasn't supposed to be a thing but Univerce went "lmao you'll be fine" and left... short explanation, Univerce is the Universe and is the entity who simply builds these planets and gods that'll appear there and leave them to their own devices, xyr not extremely important in this story. Nor would they care.) and feeling used, he decided that no he wasn't going to take that.

If there is one thing Sam knows how to do is to self preserve himself, even if that means getting passive-aggressive notes sent to him every once in a while. While this period, Sam was surprisingly the least productive (unfortunately giodine knew this and eventually mentioned it in one of their meetings which made him hide away cause like hell giodine was going to be critical of /him/) but he managed. It wasn't terrible, but unfortunately, Sam being able to talk it out with someone who does practically the same work as he does and gets newer, more helpful ideas was better in the long run.

Unsurprisingly, Sam was the first to initiate the healing of his and giodine's relationship but it wasn't reciprocated. Who would've figured, aye? Giodine kept pushing it back onto him and ignoring any progress that could've been made before. Which was frustrating.

The painting above was 'painted' by giodine, which is sorta where their relationship gets somewhat on an understanding of each other. Giodine gets to take a deep long look into who Sam is and tries to express it but it never fit him, it makes them realize that they never really-- truly got to know him. And all it does for Sam is make him even more confused about his place in giodine’s mind. He figured it's another fluke to get him to do something, so he ends up distancing himself when they start actually reciprocating his friendship advancements.

Suddenly, like a flash, Sam was forced to stay with giodine which is where the majority. I'll explain.

Sam...isn't actually the ruler of hell. Anymore, anyways depending on the timeline. His and purgatory's relationship has always been complicated, she always avoided him, and when they talked she always seemed scared of him. So in the end, they've never been close. Distant. Sam always wanted to talk to her, he made her, but if she didn't want to talk to him he wouldn't force it. But imagine his surprise as Purg singlehandedly took over hell in a hazed frenzy.

And not only that, had a personal vendetta against him!

Well, that would be the only explanation to Sam considering how he ended up broken and barely 'alive' at the hands of her. Horns broken and in tatters, pain and almost obliterated it felt like a hate crime. He didn't know what to do when he made it to the office, Purgatory was creating chaos outside his door and barely being able to breathe he felt like it was the end. So he called giodine.

Purgatory

She/her

ID: Purgatory is surrounded by flowers that are dark grey and white. The light fades down into a dark green. The light shines down on top of her straight, white hair that has yellow flowers tucked into it. Her skin is a dark brown and has a orange-ish yellow scar on her shoulder trailing up to her neck. Her skin is also highlighted by the sun. In one of her eyes, her sclera is black with an orangey, glowing iris. As for the other eye it it has a white sclera and the same, glowing orange iris. She has wings for ears, one dark grey and one white along with beige horns. She has a white fabric covering her chest. The frame is gold with white accents, but also has vines and moss crawling up the side.

(may have goofed a bit and forgot to color the sclera of her other eye white but ignore that pls)

Purgatory was made by Sam and Giodine, but to her it felt like a mistake. Why make someone that you’re going to be terrible to, she believed. Giodine seemed to hate her and eventually made her section almost obsolete because she simply wasn’t able to keep up with the backlog that she wasn’t taught to deal with. Not only that, she didn’t have any help with any of it, it was almost like she was expected to just do it on her own. Until Death came along to help, but that’s not what we’re going to be talking about right now.

And also, Purgatory is Purgatory yadda, yadda, I wont insult your intelligence.

Giodine’s thought process (other than wanting to be Real Close to Sam and once that thought filtered out, promptly ignored it) was that all the extras that don’t fit in either category of their thought of good and evil they’d go to her. (doesn’t matter cause in Sam's system it filters through ‘levels of assholery’ and depending on how bad you are you either just vibe in the upper city under rule of capitalism and possibly many under paying jobs or being actually tortured for his amusement if you’re just evil. Morally grey. Anyway, it could work p well in heaven if giodine wasn’t such a damn stickler.) But in the end, every day, less and less people ended up in purgatory, leaving her with barely any people and more verbal abuse from giodine who ‘HAS to take them or they would be more dead than they already are’. You see the pain she has to go through, right?

~Idea section, this is probably not canon anyways so dont take it serious~

My thought is that another oc (BA, you may have heard of him idk) takes over simply because Purg took multiple hims from alternative timelines (which isn’t allowed but what’re they gonna do, undead a dead clown? multiple times from multiple timelines???)) because she adored him and they figured ‘well we gotta redo purgatory may as well do it like this’ and make him a demi-dead-god. i think thats a cool idea right? anyhoo

~Idea section over uwu~

Purgatory overall is a fairly timid character, she doesn’t like conflict, is easily overwhelmed, and generally keeps to herself. She doesn’t see the point in being in any drama if she’s just going to be yelled at and scolded even if it’s not about her. The only way i could describe her taking over hell is this:

She was tired. She was angry and after feeling like nothing was in control or in her hands, she snapped. Why doesn’t she get anything or get to be ‘all powerful’ but they do? She knew if she took on Giodine she’d likely get thrown to the void, but sam? He felt fair game. Considering her fear of both of these gods, she planned and got her courage up to take him over. She had considered negotiations but in the end, she ended up going into a haze and ruining everything in sight. She was more powerful than she thought and once she started, she didn't stop until Death restrained her and Sam was already in pieces at God’s doorstep.

The aftermath was fuzzy for her and for everyone really. Godine was planning a take back hell while actually worrying for sam, sam was planning for a retirement, and she was being consoled while trying to get in contact with sam to apologize. Giodine wouldn’t dare let her talk to him, until she just showed up in their office. She didn’t have a problem with Sam, honest, she just was going to take shit over, but it got out of control.

Spoiler, Sam took her apology and they actually became.. somewhat closer after reaching an understanding.

I wanna say that giodine took them being okay and sam retiring as good as sam did about purg running hell, but they didn’t. Giodine and purgatory actually barely got along in the first place, and only begun ‘working’ on their bitterness toward each other because they both had sam to encourage it. I can’t say for certain if they’ll get better, as theyre both undying and have time, but I’ll just say for now its uncertain.

Also, Death is Purgatory’s girlfriend after all of that lmao.

And.. yeah, i hope this makes sense and that you like my drawings and ramblings about my lil story in my head, i guess this is my way to develop it without just keeping it to myself cause god forbid i keep things to myself hshsh. If you made it to the end, thank you for taking the time to read and attempting to process everything, and even if you didnt read and just looked to look at my art thank you to!!

I may post some art over on @ghoulishhusbandart cause.. it was my art account before i completely forgot about it but i might reboot it! But if you wan art NEOWWW follow me on insta (ik cringe lmaoo) by the same name as this account @ghoulishhusband or just click that insta link! also ignore the fact that giodine is the only one without a portrait, maybe I’ll replace it the next time i draw but im graduating on monday and my dad’s coming TOMORROW?? so i won’t have too much time to do it... but i hope you like my art anyways :]

ok!! ty!! ily!!

#ghoulishrambles #ghoulishsporkocs #man this is weird lmaoooooo #THE CUT DIDNT CUT IM SORRY #Man I should've edited this before ppl could see it I'm so sorry if it's a mess shshhs #I keep adding tags bc I have more to say but I wanna pin this but I don't wanna remove that Palestine post just for my ramble so #I'll just reblog it every once in a while

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taeken-my-heart · 4 years

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Moirai Chapter 8

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 4790

Notes: There is a read more placed after the first paragraph, but we all know tumblr is weird so if it doesn’t show up I’m sorry :(

This chapter is a big one in terms of what happens, but the next one is even bigger. This is a very brief reprieve from big angst so enjoy it while it’s here, my loves.

“No, see, you can’t put a comma here because that would be a comma splice.” Jungkook said, taping the delete button on your computer and you frowned.

“I’ve never even heard the term comma splice; I think you’re making it up.”

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head and turning to look at you, “just because you weren’t paying attention in class doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. A comma splice is when you take a comma and try to use it to connect two independent clauses. It happens often when people are trying to write something in their tone of voice and they put commas where they naturally pause, but that’s not always the right place for a comma.”

“The only Claus I know is Santa.” You deadpanned and Jungkook laughed; exhausted.

“Y/N!” He smiled and you shrugged up at him, lips peeling upwards into a grin.

“Unfortunately, I’m dead serious. I told you I’m not good at English!”

“Well you could be better if you just listened in class.” He scolded, scooting further up in his seat and you scowled, “don’t give me that look, I’ve seen you in class. You doodle a lot or read the posters around the room. You’re never actually paying attention.”

“Ah!” You clutched at your heart dramatically, “I’ve been caught!”

Jungkook laughed, leaning over to pull a notebook from his bag and you watched him curiously, the muscles in his back tightening as he dug through. “So,” you murmured as he sat back up, flipping open his notebook and glancing at you, “did you ever ask Ella out?”

He looked up at you in surprise, clearing his throat. “Ah, no, I,” he rubbed awkwardly at his wrist underneath the fabric of his sweater, “it didn’t feel right…right now. Timing, I guess.”

You frowned, shifting in your seat to face him, English assignment forgotten. “She knows you like her though, right?”

He blushed, ducking his head further into his chest, flipping to a fresh page in his book, ready to take notes. “Ah, yeah, she does.”

“So, I don’t get it, what’s the hold up?”

“It’s just…it’s complicated. Don’t try to distract me, missy, you still have to finish this assignment and I’ve only got 30 minutes left to help you, so less chatting and more working!” He scolded, glaring over at you and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Sure, sure.”

Once Jungkook had left for the night, you saved your assignment and left the office, heading up the stairs towards Ella’s room. She was leaning against her bed, headphones slid over her ears playing Snow Patrol loud enough that even you could hear the words and for a moment you felt concerned for the health of her ears.

You ventured into the room and she looked up at you from the homework in her lap, smiling and pushing her headphones off. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Mind if I join you for a minute?” You asked, fingers still on the doorknob and she nodded, patting the carpet beside her.

You made your way towards her, flopping down beside her as she turned off her music. “What brings you to my bedroom floor?” She teased and you smiled.

“I was just wondering what’s going on with you and Jungkook?” You shrugged and she smiled, lopsided and goofy.

“Oh, I mean nothing much,” she admitted, bashful, “he admitted that he likes me, but said he feels a little weird now that he’s got his soulmate tattoo. What a romantic, right?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “He’s so dramatic.”

“Right?” She laughed, “Anyway, I told him we can just be friends for now, but I think once the tattoo settles and stops hurting, he’ll kind of forget about it and we can date. It’s not like he even knows her.”

You nod, picking at the carpet. “True. Plus, the whole soulmate thing is stupid. The universe dictates one person to make you happy forever? What a load.”

“I don’t know,” Ella smiles, “I believe it. That doesn’t mean I don’t also believe someone else can make you happy in the meantime, until you find your soulmate.”

“That’s awful, though. Then you’re just a place holder. Wouldn’t you hate that? You know Jungkook is a romantic, he’s said he definitely wants to be with his soulmate when he meets her so then where does that leave you?”

Ella pouted, drumming her fingers on her book. “I know, but it would be fun while it lasted.”

“Trust me, the pain isn’t worth it.” You smiled tight, mind flashing to Lucas. Time was like a balm and it had already been two weeks since you and Lucas had broken up. Why you and your sister hadn’t talked about this earlier was beyond you and you began to realize that Jungkook was probably right, the two of you didn’t talk enough.

Ella frowned, grabbing hold of your hand. “I’m sorry about Lucas. You’re right, the pain probably isn’t worth it, but I just really like him!”

“I know you do,” you nodded, sighing and leaning your head back against her bed, “When did Jungkook tell you he liked you? Two weeks ago?”

“Well, that’s when he admitted out loud that he liked me, but he’s been hinting at it for a while. I think I started noticing at the beginning of the school year, he was just paying me more attention, talking to me more. When we started hanging out, he started confiding in me. Did you know he broke up with Rachel the night of his birthday party?”

“Oh?” You hummed in surprise, lifting your head from her blanket, “I didn’t know that, actually.”

“Yeah, I don’t think a lot of people knew because Rachel’s whole family was out of town for like a month after and he didn’t really talk about it. After they broke up, Jungkook came over and asked if we could talk on the porch. It was just before 11 so the rest of you were already in bed, I think. I snuck outside and we talked for a while and he told me all about it. She’s kind of horrible, said all sorts of mean things to him.”

“Really? Like what?”

Ella sighed, pushing her books off her lap and folding her legs underneath her body. “Told him he was boring and stupid, that kind of stuff, but then she started dissing his family, too. I don’t think she’s ever been broken up with so she just kind of lost it. Insulted his dad’s broken English, which is just such a low blow. Uncle Jinhyun has worked really hard and he speaks more languages than her crusty ass!”

You chuckled and she smiled softly, shrugging. “Anyway, he was pretty upset about that so we talked about it and he held my hand and told me how I was smart and pretty and any guy would be lucky to have me and then he kissed me on the cheek and went home. I kind of knew then that he was interested in more than friendship, but he’d just broken up with Rachel so he needed time to get over that, you know? Plus, then he got his soulmate tattoo like half an hour later so I think it was just a lot.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, “but, to be fair, he wasn’t devoted to Rachel or anything. He told me a little while ago that she was kind of a rebound so he probably wasn’t too upset about the breakup. Especially since he’s the one that did it.” “That’s true,” Ella admitted, dropping her pencil into her lap and stretching her fingers absentmindedly. “His feelings were hurt, though. By everything she said, I mean. I feel really bad for him. Don’t tell him I said anything, but I think getting his soulmate tattoo kind of scared him.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Just,” she paused, attempting to gather her thoughts. “His whole life he’s hearing about soulmates and about how his parents are so happy and he wants that too, right? Then he gets his tattoo and it’s just shocking, it’s probably nothing like you expect, you know? And then you’re faced with the reality; a real person’s name on your wrist and sometime during your life you’re gonna meet them and that’s it forever. Kind of scary, I guess.”

“Didn’t know Jeon Jungkook could scare.” You teased and Ella smiled softly at you.

“Everyone scares sometimes, even Jungkook.”

You stared down at the ground, fingers twisting together in your lap. “Yeah, I guess.” You sighed, standing up and stretching your legs. “I’m gonna head to my room now. Maybe read a book before bed or something.”

“Adventurous.” Ella teased, winking at you. You smiled, nodding and walking from her room, closing the door just as she slipped her head phones back over her ears.

Sometimes your life was like the movies. Not in the fun ways, though. No mysterious, sexy, and broody stranger to whisk you away on his motorcycle while the screen faded to black. No, more like you played the tambourine in music class because you were musically challenged and Mr. Sabisco didn’t want a repeat of last year’s Christmas concert.

You didn’t blame him, honestly.

It wasn’t all bad, either. You got to mostly sit in the back and slap the tambourine against your hand to a 4-count rhythm so no harm no foul. You spent most of the class day dreaming and letting muscle memory take over. There was only one week left until your birthday and you were becoming more anxious at the thought. Your mom desperately wanted to throw you a soulmate party and stay up until midnight to watch the name appear, but honestly, you’d never heard something more unappealing in your life.

If you were forced to have some rando’s name on your wrist, you at least wanted to have the moment be a private one. It wasn’t really a celebration for you, though you couldn’t lie to yourself…you were at least a little curious. Everyone you knew who was with their soulmate was happy.

It was hard to imagine just getting together with a person whose name matched the tattoo on your body and being happy…but you supposed the odds were in your favor, considering the rest of the world seemed to be doing just fine. Still, you didn’t particularly like it.

The song ended and you let the tambourine rest in your lap, Mr. Sabisco prattling on about the details of the upcoming holiday concert. It was going to be even bigger than last year, with all the music classes from every grade level performing the same songs together as well as the students he private tutored having a song of their own.

You could see Moira Smith in the front row puff out her chest with pride at the mention of her name as the grand finale with the choir to back her up and you wanted to roll your eyes. She was a snob about her singing and not one single person cared.

After class you made your way towards lunch, meeting up with Noelle in the hallway at her locker. Lillian’s class was on the other side of the building so the three of you would just meet up in the lunch line. “Just a few more days until your birthday.” Noelle commented, slamming her locker closed and popping her gum.

You flinched and glared at her. “How do you always get away with chewing gum in class?”

“I’m really good at hiding it under my tongue.” She shrugged. “You sure you don’t want to have a party? It doesn’t need to be a soulmate party like your mom wants, I get it, it freaks you out. But don’t you want to just have a regular party with your friends.”

“Wow, party of three, sounds fun.” You scoffed and Noelle smacked your arm, pushing the doors to the lunch room open and you followed her over to the line. Lillian was already a few people ahead of you and she smiled and waved before turning forward again.

“Don’t be rude. It’s always just the three of us and you’ve never had trouble having fun before.”

“I know, I know.” You sighed, grabbing an aging blue, grey tray and stepping forward in the line. “This one just feels different. There’s a lot of pressure and I just kind of want to be left alone.”

“I mean, I don’t really get it, but I respect it. If that’s what you want to do, then that’s what you should do. It’s your birthday so you should have things the way you like them.”

“Thanks, Noelle.” You smiled. Lifting your tray so the lunch lady could give you your pick of lunch for the day.

After the two of you had met Lillian at your usual table, you mostly sat and ate quietly while your two friends chatted about whatever had happened in their last class. You scanned the room, taking note of the fact that Ella was sitting with Jungkook and his friends while Rachel had moved a few tables away with her own friends, scowl drawn across her features.

You felt a little bad for her, it wasn’t really her fault that she’d mostly been a rebound. Sure, she was witchy and a little bit of a ditz, but it must have hurt her to watch her ex-boyfriend move on so quickly. Not that Jungkook and Ella were even dating, but to Rachel, you imagine even sitting with another girl was in the same sphere.

You knew what it felt like to lose someone you cared about to someone else and it sucked. You wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone.

A few days later, after depositing your bag in your room and making your way to the kitchen for an afternoon snack, your mother stopped you in the hallway, clasping an earring in one ear, head tilted as she looked at you.

“You have tutoring with Jungkook soon, right?” At your nod, she continued, “Will you take this over to him, it’s something I’ve been meaning to give to his mother. Also, remind him they’re coming over for dinner. His parents will be coming here straight from the office so I don’t want him to forget and be alone.”

“Ay ay, Captain.” You nodded, taking the small bag your mother handed you and skipping down the stairs. You didn’t want to eat anything too heavy because you would be having dinner in a few hours anyway, but a sandwich couldn’t hurt in keeping the hunger pangs away for a little bit.

You made yourself a quick sandwich before making your way to the office to grab the stuff you’d left there from the day before and out the door into the late afternoon, coat bundled tight around you as you made the two-minute walk to Jungkook’s house.

He greeted you at the door in a grey on grey sweat pant combo, hair swept back from his forehead and looking more handsome than should ever be allowed. You swallowed a bite of sandwich, way too large to do so comfortably and you coughed, beating your chest as it burned its way down your esophagus.

“You ok there?” Jungkook asked, eyebrow rising as he watched you struggle your way through a task as blindingly simple as chewing your food.

“Fine.” You rasped, throat constricting painfully around air and you waved him in, following after him into the house and closing the door behind yourself.

“Did you do what I told you to last time?” He questioned, making his way into the living room where he’d set up a make shift office with a foldable table and his laptop.

You reached into your folder, pulling out the paper you’d printed last night and sat next to Jungkook as he flopped on the couch, scanning the paper quietly while you waited. As much as you hated to admit it, his help in English had been invaluable. Not only were you passing the class, but you were actually doing really well and you had him to thank for it.

“This is really good,” he said after a while, sitting up straighter and placing the paper on the table next to his laptop, “I’ve got just a couple more corrections but then I think it will be ready to turn in. You’ve got the USB, right?” He asked, holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed the USB from your pocket, handing it to him and he slid it into the computer, loading the paper on his screen.

“When we’re done with this, we should celebrate.” Jungkook said, sliding his finger along the mouse pad as he moved the word document to where he wanted it.

“How?” You asked and he shrugged.

“We’ll figure something out. OK, so I’m gonna mark the things I want to work on in yellow and then we’ll get started talking about how you think it could be even better and we’ll go from there.”

After spending the next hour going through your work and ironing out the kinks, you were actually excited to turn in an assignment for once. This was probably the best paper you’d ever written and aside from Jungkook’s (admittedly invaluable) guidance, you’d written it by yourself. You didn’t think there’d ever been a time before when you could say you were proud of something you’d written.

Jungkook stood up, stretching and walked to the other side of the room, searching through the bookcase while you put your paper and USB away. It was nearly time to head home and help your mom make dinner.

“Hey, do you like music?” Jungkook asked, walking back towards you as he stared down at one of his father’s old records and you frowned.

“What kind of a dumb question is that?” You scoffed. “Of course, I like music.”

“I’m not talking about today’s stuff; I’m talking about real music.”

“OK, snobby.” You laughed and he grinned, holding up the record for you to see. “The Temptations? Never heard of them.”

“Shut your mouth!” Jungkook gasped, making his way to the record player. “Don’t you worry, we’re gonna right this wrong right now.”

“I wasn’t really worried.” You mumbled, watching as he placed the record on the turntable and grabbed the needle to start the song. You stood up, making your way over to where he stood.

The record player scratched to life, an upbeat tempo filling the room and Jungkook closed his eyes, body swaying to the beat. “This song is my favorite of theirs. It wasn’t their most popular, which I don’t get because it just makes you wanna dance.”

“What’s it called?” You asked, dragging your finger idly across the desk as you watched him sway and his eyes blink open to look over at you.

“It’s called “Get Ready.” Here, dance.” He said, coming around to your side of the table and grabbing your hand.

You frowned, shaking your head and trying to pull back. “I don’t dance, Jungkook. I’m bad at it.”

“Me too.” He grinned and you glared at him.

“You’re on the schools dance team. Don’t lie.”

He laughed, shaking his head and pulling you further into the center of the living room. “Come on, there’s nothing to it. Just throw your hands up in the air and move your hips and feet.” He pushed your arms above your head and grabbed at your hips, making them twist as you tried to awkwardly sway back and forth.

“I feel like an idiot.” You pouted and he grinned.

“Just close your eyes and pretend like no one’s watching.” He said, twisting his hips in a way that made you giggle.

“You’re watching.” You insisted and he smiled, eyes slipping closed.

“Better?”

You sighed, shaking your arms out nervously before starting to twist your body in earnest, trying to find the rhythm in your hips. You closed your eyes tight, lips clenched together as you concentrated on the music. It was lively and fun, a song you’d definitely heard before, though not often and you’d not known who sung it. Your arms rose above your head subconsciously and you could feel your lips peeling slowly into a smile. It felt nice to let loose; at least for a moment.

“There you go.” You could hear Jungkook’s smile before you opened your eyes to see it. He was dancing in earnest now, arms flung in front of his chest as he shook his hands back and forth and you laughed, continuing to dance along to the music until the song ended and you stopped to catch your breath.

Just then you heard your phone ringing from the couch and you ran to dig through the pillows where it had fallen, pulling it out and sliding to answer.

“Hello?” You asked, holding the phone close to your ear as you watched Jungkook take the record from the record player and delicately put it back in its sleeve and on the shelf with his dad’s other records. “Yeah, I’ll head back now. OK, bye.” You hung up, sliding your phone in the back pocket of your jeans.

Jungkook looked over at you, shaggy hair hanging over the edge of his eyebrows and he smiled softly. “Your mom?”

“Yeah, I gotta go help her get ready for dinner.” You grabbed your folder, sliding it into the crook of your elbow. “You’re still coming, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He said softly, coming to stand in front of you. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Once the Jeon’s had arrived, both of your families made way into the kitchen to grab plates and pile them high. You let the greed of your eyes decide for you, piling your plate far higher than necessary and Jungkook smirked at you from across the island.

“Hungry?” He grinned and you frowned.

“Don’t judge me, Jeon!”

He held up a hand as surrender and Ella giggled from beside him, her plate practically empty next yours as she plucked a few spoonfuls of rice onto it.

“You’re so dramatic, Y/N.” She teased.

“All I’m saying is let me live my dreams.” You huffed, finishing off your plate with a roll and Ella laughed, following you to the table with Jungkook traipsing behind.

“So, Y/N” Jieun started, as everyone finally sat down to eat, “It’s almost your birthday! Are you going to have a soulmate reveal?”

A loud crash ripped through the air from the end of the table and you all looked at Jungkook who hissed, rubbing at his knee. “Uh, sorry…hit my knee.”

His mother chuckled, swatting at him, “be careful, you big lump.” She then trained her vision back on you and you pushed at your mashed potatoes in discomfort.

“Actually, I just wanted to have it be a pretty private thing.”

“Oh, so just your family and us? Well, that’s OK, you don’t need to have a big party to celebrate. We can still be there to cheer you on all the same.”

“Mom.” Jungkook whined softly under his breath and she glanced over at him, “leave her alone. She wants to spend her birthday in private. As in by herself.”

“Well surely not without her family?” She asked in surprise, turning to look at her best friend and then back at you, “your family will be there with you at least? It’s a very special moment in a person’s life, after all.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “actually, I just want to be alone during that moment. I don’t really believe in the soulmate thing, I guess. I mean, I know it’s real and that a name will appear on my wrist, but I think it’s pretty contrived that, that person is just supposed to magically be everything I’ve ever wanted.” You shrug as your voice quiets, taking note of the shock on both of Jungkook’s parents faces.

He himself had gone eerily quiet, chewing absentmindedly on his pot roast, eyes shifting anywhere else in the room and you realized with a sigh that he was done helping you try to distract his mother.

“Y/N’s always been peculiar about this sort of thing,” your mother chuckled good naturedly, “Never really liked the whole soulmate birthday party thing, though we’ve definitely tried to pique her interest.”

“It’s OK if she’s not interested!” Ella insisted, smiling as all eyes shifted to her. “I think it’s kind of cool that she wants to keep it private, like her own special little secret.”

You smiled over at your sister as a thank you and conversation resumed on new topics, though Jungkook was oddly quiet for most of the dinner, only really speaking when spoken to. You wondered what his parents thought of him getting his own tattoo. As far as you knew, no one but him even knew the name on his wrist. He was private about it for a different reason than you wanted to be private about your own. It must have made them sad to not share in that moment with him.

Perhaps your parents would feel sad too. You just couldn’t bring yourself to change your mind, though. If you could, you’d make sure the tattoo never appeared; that way you could choose completely for yourself how you got to live your life. If you could.

The night before your 18th birthday probably should have been more exciting than it was. This year your birthday fell on a Saturday and as such, you were wearing the fluffiest pajamas you owned, curled under a blanket with your laptop balanced on your lap, pulling up Netflix to binge watch a show to take you into the early morning hours of the weekend when your life would suddenly change completely.

It was an interesting juxtaposition, turning 18. You were about to have a name appear on your wrist that would impact the rest of your life, but until you met that person, your life would stay exactly the same. It was terrifying and comforting all at the same time. You had half an hour until midnight and currently your parents were in bed and Ella was downstairs in the kitchen having a late-night snack.

You rubbed at your wrist anxiously, skimming through the titles of the movies you could watch. You needed something light hearted and funny; something that would take your mind off this stupid soulmate situation.

Twenty minutes into the movie and with only ten minutes until your birthday, your wrist began to tingle. You frowned, covering your wrist with your hand and trying to ignore it. Your parents had told you that it would hurt a little when your tattoo first came and that the ache would last a few days. Just a nice little reminder of the situation you had no control over. Every minute that ticked by, your heart raced faster and your wrist burned more.

You were so anxious you almost couldn’t sit still; a wave of anxiety building so high you thought you might scream. You’d never felt what claustrophobia was like, but you could imagine it was much like this. Just trapped in a situation you couldn’t get out of.

You wanted to cry by one minute to twelve. The stinging was intense and your anxiety was through the roof. You hadn’t bothered to look at your wrist yet, you knew that the black of the tattoo was already starting to show but you were terrified to see it. Eyes bleary from pain, you tried to focus on your breathing. This was not at all what you were expecting. Staring up at the ceiling in the dark, laptop now abandoned on the side of your bed, you laid back against your pillow, blinking away the tears. At 12:01 the pain began to dull and you sighed, breath shuddery as you wiped the tears from your cheeks.

Sitting up sluggishly, you pulled your laptop back into your lap, allowing the light from the screen to illuminate your area. Releasing a deep breath, you lifted the sleeve of your pajama top and felt your stomach drop, room suddenly tilting on its axis.

You’d never felt more nauseous and confused in your life. It must have been incorrect, there was no possible way. Blinking down at your wrist again you felt like your world had shattered, a million pieces dangling in the air around you as you sat frozen. A nightmare you didn’t know you were living.

The only name you’d never expected to appear on your wrist was there, blinking up at you in a crisp, black scrawl.

Jeon Jungkook.

Oh my gosh! This was your small reprieve, haha, next chapter is gonna be a big one (obviously) so strap in! I’ll be writing a mini chapter from Jungkook’s point of view when he got his tattoo starting immediately and then get working on chapter 9. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts and opinions. <3

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

#jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #BTS jungkook

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petri808 · 5 years

Text

The Wishing Well

Whew, I made it lol. This is my story for the awesome @nalufever for the Nalu server’s secret Valentine’s Exchange. LoL we had each other! Omg, I hope you like it, I was trying to come up with a story around the idea we once talked about. It ended up being a fluffy short story lol. Okie here we go.

“Miss Lucy!” the little girl waves her hand excitedly from across the room. “Miss, Miss, Miss!”

“Yes, Wendy?” the teacher’s aide walks up to the table and kneels, “are you finished with your drawing?” Nodding her head with a small blush upon her cheeks, the child holds her drawing up for Lucy to see. “That’s wonderful Wendy! Is that your cat? But why is it blue?”

Wendy smiles wide, “name’s Happy! Don’ know why he blue tho but it’s cute!”

“Yes,” Lucy chuckles, eyes brimming with delight, “he’s very cute!”

Content with the response, Wendy goes back to doodling a new cartoon while the teachers aid floats around the room checking on other students. Lucy loved this part time job even though it wasn’t quite in the field she was studying for, the credit still counted, the pay was decent, and not to mention the students were adorable most of the time. Of course, there were a few that could be a handful, but nothing the bubbly 22 yr old blonde couldn’t handle and besides, the teacher Mirajane was also a blessing to work with.

Storytime was probably Lucy’s favorite part of the day. Books had always been her sanctum even from a young age and to impart that same love into these children was like paying it forward for the new generation. They would gather round her with their snacks, the eager little faces and once a week she even delighted them with original little stories she would create just for them. Filled with characters like Princesses and Dragons, of mythical elves and other magical creatures, even using their names mixed in to make it come alive for the awestruck youngsters.

Lucy smiles from her desk, this school year was shaping up to be a great one.

Across town at Magnolia University, a young man hurries out of class. Checking his phone, he’s got 30 minutes to get to the primary school and pick up his sister, but traffic is often a pain at this hour. His sister-in-law Mavis usually picked Wendy up but today she had an appointment leaving Natsu to rush. It’s been a struggle for the 24-year-old, being thrust into the role of guardian at the age of 20, to drop out of college and take time off to raise a 2-year-old. Not that it mattered, there was no way he was going to allow Wendy to be sent to a foster home after their parents died. It wasn’t her fault tragedy struck and left her an orphan, so he was going to lavish that little girl with all the love and affection their parents would have given her.

He thrums his fingers on the steering wheel, as the car slowly crawled its way towards the front of the school. The line of parents patiently waiting to pick up kids was pretty typical, however annoying it may be, but a requirement for the students in kindergarten and first grades for release at the end of the day. Teachers and security waited with the children, handing them off as each car pulled up. Natsu smiles when he finally sees the tell-tale blue hair of Wendy bouncing as she waves to him.

“How was your day at school Wendy?” popping the question as the first grader buckled herself in to her booster.

With a click and a bubbly response, “lots’a fun! We drew and Ms. Lucy read us a story! Ms. Lucy always has awesomest stories to tell! Yuck, then Mrs. Dreyar gave us reading to do.”

Natsu chuckles, side-eying through the rearview, “What’s with the pouty face? I thought you like reading?”

“Not for homework. I wanna read for fun!”

That only makes him laugh harder, “tell ya what, how about we get some ice cream at the mall, then I’ll read with you, sound better?”

Wendy’s face lights up, “Yay! Ice Cream!”

“Kozmic Cones it is!”

On the opposite side of the mall nestled near the food court, Faeries Café was a popular little hangout. Good food that even a college kid could afford drew them in at all hours of the day. Lucy was no exception and today was her weekly meet up with her best friend Levy McGarden for coffee. It had become a routine ever since they’d finished their undergraduate programs and moved on to graduate work, she in the field of English Lit while Levy focused on Ancient Linguistics. Between classes and working jobs they rarely had much time anymore to hang out.

“How are things going with Gajeel,” the blonde stirred at the slowly warming coffee, “did you guys pick a date for the wedding yet?”

“He said not until after I graduate, which is only one more semester, so I agreed.”

Lucy leans onto her propped hand with a light smile, “You’re so lucky you found someone already Lev, I’m really happy for you two.”

“Aww, Lu you’ll find someone,” the bluenette reaches over the table and grabs her friend’s free hand, squeezing it before retracting back into her seat, “and I bet it’ll happen when you least expect it to.”

But the blonde just sighs, “Doubt it, I’m so busy I don’t have time to meet anyone unless they are under the age of 7,” chuckling lightly, “and no one in my college classes are very interesting to me.”

“You haven’t dated anyone since him that I can recall.” Levy taps her chin, “maybe it’s not that you can’t but won’t look at anyone else.”

“What are you my psychiatrist now?!” teasing at her friend. “I’m fine, really, not like I don’t have enough on my plate to deal with, right? And as for my ex,” Lucy shrugs her shoulders, “we lost touch in college…”

The girls spend about an hour chatting and catching up, planning that upcoming weekend when another friend will be dropping by town. Cana Alberona was never one to stay still for very long but luckily her job in fashion fit her personality well, jet setting around to photograph models and actors for Sorcerer’s Magazine. She was so different in personality from the other two girls and yet the trio were inseparable in high school. It wasn’t really their thing, but for Cana, hitting a bar or club was definitely going to be on the agenda.

Which was fine, she guessed, nothing wrong with hanging out with a couple of girlfriends at a bar. Hopefully no one bothers us…. Ugh, but some guy always does! As she walked away from the café, Lucy hangs her head wondering if her love life would always be a struggle. She was sick and tired of even trying to meet guys when it usually turned out they only wanted her, sighing, for my assets…. It wasn’t her fault she was born with these curves, even thought about getting a reduction one day just so she didn’t have to deal with them anymore.

There had only been one serious relationship in her life and while the guy definitely loved her body, Lucy knew it wasn’t the reason he’d asked her out in the first place. Back then surrounded by so many friends, she’d never cared much about having boyfriends or being in relationships but funny how things change and now 5 years later, it was kind of lonely.

She sees the wishing well a few feet away, absent mindedly pulling out a coin as she walked towards it. It was such a silly thing to make a wish and throw away a perfectly good quarter but well, flicking the shiny metal into the water, what could it hurt, right? To have someone like him back in her life again, maybe the false smiles she wore would finally be real.

“Ms. LUCY!!!”

“Wendy?” The young blonde turns around to the voice of her student, semi-surprised though this was a mall and all, just in time to have the little girl hugging to her legs. “Wendy, what a nice surprise to see you here!” Lucy hugs the girl back, “but who are you with sweetie?”

The little girl, with eyes practically shining, bounces on her feet pointing behind her, “my brother gots me ice cream.”

“Your broth…” As she follows Wendy finger, Lucy cannot believe what she’s seeing. “N-Natsu!” a light gasp as her hands fly up to her mouth and moisture clouds her vision. “Oh my god! I-Is it really you?”

Sporting the trade mark goofy grin that she knew better than most plastered on his face, “Yeah it’s me, heya Lucy,” scratching his head, “Didn’t realize you were the teacher she always talks about. How ya been?”

Tears trickle down her cheeks and before she can stop them, her feet carry her towards him, hands flying into fists. In that moment Lucy’s surroundings fade away and all she can see is Natsu, standing there in the flesh. No Wendy, no shoppers, just him. “Why!?” She beats at his chest, “no calls, no texts, no goodbye! Four years! Y-you just left me hanging how could you Natsu!”

“Luce…” he had no idea what he could say to the sobbing woman in his arms to slow her tears, grabbing her hands to stop their fury but keeping them held tightly to his chest. She was right, everything she said was the truth. Natsu was an asshole for not making the effort to contact her as soon as he could, and he knew that. So, he did the only thing he could and held her quietly, whispering soft apologizes and hoping it would be enough to soothe the pain he never knew she had held onto.

Eventually Lucy slumps against him, liquid still flowing but her sobs withering into lighter exhalations. “I’m sorry,” her voice strained and muffled, “I didn’t mean to break down like that.”

“No,” Natsu pulls her head against his shoulder, cradling the back of her head, “don’t be sorry, I should have reached out to you too it’s just that…”

“I know about your parents…. I ran into Gray a couple years ago and he told me that’s what happened.” Lucy pushes away just enough to look up at the taller man. “Natsu I would have been there for you if you’d have let me, you didn’t have to do it all alone.”

“I know Luce…. We…”

A meek voice breaks through the din, “I-Is Ms. Lucy okay?”

“Oh my!” Lucy pushes away and drops to her knees beside the little girl, followed quickly by the elder brother. Still wiping away the streaks of salty liquid, Lucy takes the child’s hand, “I’m so sorry you had to see that Wendy. I’m okay really, I am I promise. We,” glancing to Natsu who nods, “we went to high school together and haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

The poor child’s face is still sullen and full of worry. “Are you, are you mad at my brother Ms. Lucy? Did my brother hurt you?”

“He…”

Natsu put his hand on Lucy’s shoulder, cutting off her response. Turning to his little sister, “I did, a long time ago when you were still very young, I made Lucy very, very sad.”

“But he didn’t mean to sweetie,” Lucy chimes in trying to comfort the child, “your brother was going through a lot of things and it just happened.”

“So, you really aren’t mad at my brother?”

“No, I’m not,” the woman smiles. “I rather like your brother a lot.” Lucy feels the warmth tingling in her cheeks but does her best not to show it. “He’s, you know like how we learned about the bad guys and the good guys in class?” The child nods. “Your brother is one of the good guys.”

That brings a delighted smile back to Wendy’s face. “I think so too! He takes really good care of me after mommy and daddy died.”

“I’m sure he does,” Lucy smiles back.

“Wendy, honey,” Natsu steps in handing out some change to the girl, “would you like to go make some wishes while I finish talking to Ms. Lucy?” The child looks to her teacher, then back to her brother nodding, taking the change and skipping off to the wishing well. “What’s the odds that she’d end up in your class?” turning to the girl still crouched, Natsu helps Lucy to her feet, “or running into each other at the mall’s wishing well?”

Lucy shakes her head rather than respond. Magnolia wasn’t a large city, it was bound to happen sooner or later so there was no point in making it out to be anything more than mere coincidence. “I-I sh-should probably go so you can get back to Wendy.” Lucy turns away. “I must look like a mess right now…”

“You are still just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.”

The blonde stiffens. His words…. His tone… sends an electric shock through her frame. Tingling along her skin when his hand comes to rest on her shoulder and the heat radiating from his body infringing upon her space.

“I’m such an idiot for letting you go once. You must be settled down by now with someone….”

She shakes her head, refusing to turn around, and answering in a soft tone, “there hasn’t really been anyone since you. No one’s ever treated me…. the way you used to treated me…”

One hand on her shoulder turns into two around her waist. “I don’t expect you to forgive me Luce, but if it’s any consolation, I still love you, maybe even more now, knowing how much Wendy adores you too.” Lucy squeezes her eyes shut, willing back the tears again. “Would you give me a second chance?”

“Please say Yes!” The young man and woman’s heads whip around to see a beaming Wendy practically bouncing. “Please say yes Ms. Lucy!”

Natsu let go of Lucy’s waist, turning her to face him. “Well, Ms. Lucy?” A large grin growing on his face with the thought of buying his sister that new dress she’s been fawning over. “You wouldn’t want to make your student sad, would you?”

“Gah, you really haven’t changed,” she punches his arm, playfully with a smirk. “Lucky you,” grabbing his shirt, “I still love that goofier side,” and pulling him down for a kiss….

#valentines exchange #nalu #nalu fanfiction #au story #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu x lucy #petri808 #welp this was tough lol #I was so nervous writing it #maybe it could be longer some day

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queenofcats17 · 5 years

Text

Three Old Men Hunt Ghosts

So, @aceofintuition posted some doodles of various AU’s they have involving their and @pipesflowforeverandever ‘s Joey’s. So I decided to write the Buzzfeed Unsolved one.

The man colloquially known as ‘Snowy’ Drew did not believe in ghosts. Not in the slightest. He liked things he could touch, things he could see. He liked things that were tangible. Ghosts didn’t really fall into that category. Unfortunately for him, the man who had dubbed himself his ‘best friend’ very much believed in ghosts. And a lot of other things that Snowy didn’t really put any stock in. ‘Gingie’ Drew was almost the polar opposite of Snowy. He was fair skinned where Snowy was dark, short where Snowy was tall, whimsical and fanciful where Snowy was practical and rational. Technically speaking, they shouldn’t have been friends. And, at first, they hadn’t been. They’d met at an animation conference. Both of them were in the animation industry and had that in common at the very least, as well as the fact that they were both named Joey Drew. At first, their opposing personalities had caused them to hate each other. Until, that is, they’d discovered one other thing they had in common. Their love for their children. As soon as they both found out the other had a child and would do anything for them, their hatred toward each other cooled, and they’d quickly become quite close friends.

But that was in the past. Now it was the middle of the night and Snowy was at the wheel of his car, Gingie in the passenger seat, headed to some random location that Gingie was convinced was haunted. In the backseat was Norman Polk, who was along to record the whole experience. See, Gingie had gotten the idea that it would be fun to start a web series. His daughter, adopted daughter really, liked watching videos on YouTube and had come across a web series where two men discussed supernatural occurrences and true crime. Gingie had thought this would be a marvelous idea. Snowy didn’t mind the idea. He found true crime to be rather interesting, and it was pretty entertaining to watch Gingie get excited about the supernatural.

“You just enjoy all the compliments you get in the comments.” Ana had said. She wasn’t wrong. Snowy didn’t mind all the comments about his attractiveness, as well as the ones about how cute Joy was. She’d been on a few episodes, but only the ones where he thought the content was appropriate. Gingie had brought on his granddaughter, Linda, a few times as well. Again, only when the content was appropriate, because Marvin had given Gingie a thorough talking to about what exactly Linda would be exposed to.

“Gingersnap, remind me why we have to do this in the middle of the night,” Snowy said as they drove down the dirt path to the cave. Because of course it was a cave.

“Well, you wouldn’t expect a ghost to just appear in the middle of the day, would you?” Gingie replied. How on Earth did he have this much energy?! It was almost midnight and they’d both gotten up at 6 that morning!

“It’s a cave. It’s always dark in a cave. They can’t tell the difference.”

“Well, yes...” Gingie hesitated a bit. “But the time is important. The supernatural is stronger during the witching hour.” Snowy resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, that checks out.” He muttered.

A few minutes later they pulled up outside of the cave. They’d gotten permission to film in the cave, but there was still a guide from the park service waiting for them. The cave was, for the most part, undeveloped and thus rather dangerous.

“Hello.” The park service employee waved wearily. They were a tired dark skinned 20-something dressed in a park uniform. Judging from the circles under their eyes, they were probably a pretty new hire.

“Ah! You must be Ramirez!” Gingie scrambled out of the car, bounding up to shake the guide’s hand. They couldn’t help but smile a little at Gingie’s enthusiasm.

“Um, yeah. That’s me.” They replied. “Are you guys the two Drew’s?”

“Indeed we are!” Gingie grinned, shaking their hand excitedly. “I must say, it’s a pleasure to be here! Thank you so much for letting us film in the cavern!”

“Sorry we had to drag you out here so late,” Snowy said, walking up behind Gingie.

“It’s fine,” Ramirez assured him. “I’m used to being up this late anyway.”

“You in college?” Snowy asked as Gingie peered past their guide.

“Yeah. I’m in my last year.” Ramirez nodded. “I’m working here part-time right now, but eventually I want this to be my permanent job.”

“That’s a rather noble ambition.” Gingie turned his attention back to Ramirez. “It’s very important to take care of the beauty that Mother Nature has given to us.”

“You really think so?” Ramirez smiled shyly. “My aunt told me it was stupid. But...my family doesn’t really talk to her anymore anyway.”

“Well, that was rude of her.” Gingie’s smile quickly turned to a frown. He soon launched into a motivational speech for the young park employee. Snowy went back to the car to check on Norman. The projectionist was unloading the camera and sound equipment from the trunk, doing quick tests to make sure everything was working the way it should.

“Everything working?” Snowy asked, leaning down.

“So far.” Norman nodded, picking up the main camera and hefting it onto his shoulder.

“Thanks for sticking with us for this long,” Snowy said after a moment of silence. “We both really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” Norman replied. “If you both die horrific deaths, someone needs to record it.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Snowy rolled his eyes. But Norman didn’t laugh. Snowy turned back to look at him. Norman just smiled at him. Snowy knew Norman was, in all likelihood, joking. But you could never quite tell with him.

“Let’s, uh, let’s just go.” Snowy walked quickly towards the mouth of the cave. Norman hummed to himself, following. Gingie was still talking with Ramirez when Snowy and Norman got to them, both looking rather excited.

“C’mon, Gingersnap.” Snowy grabbed Gingie by his collar. “Henry’ll have a heart attack if you suddenly adopt another kid.”

“I-I’m not trying to adopt them!” Gingie sputtered, his cheeks turning red. “We were simply talking!”

“Sure you were,” Snowy said. “That’s what you said with Francine too, and now you’re practically her dad.”

“You do have a tendency to adopt young people you like.” Norman agreed.

“Not you too, Mr. Polk!” Gingie wailed. After a moment or two of bickering, they separated and got ready to do their intro.

“Hello everyone!” Gingie waved at the camera. “This week, we’re investigating Echo Cave in our continuing quest to answer the question, are ghosts real? I must say, I’m rather excited!”

“I’m just hoping I don’t get shit on by a bat.” Snowy shrugged.

“In any case, let’s go!” Gingie beamed and started into the cave, followed by Snowy and Norman. Ramirez snorted a little as they followed the trio of men. They hadn’t been sure what to expect when their boss had told them they’d be escorting the hosts of a web series through the cave but it certainly hadn’t been this. Still, they were certainly interesting men.

As they got deeper, the light began to fade, prompting them to pull out their flashlights. Norman had a head mounted one, while the other three just had flashlights they were carrying.

“So, what can you tell us about this place?” Snowy asked, looking back at them. Norman had begun recording by this point.

“Well, it’s a naturally formed cave,” Ramirez said, shifting into tour guide mode. “For the most part, it’s just home to animals. Black bears, raccoons, squirrels. Things like that. Humans didn’t usually come here. But...” They paused for dramatic effect, shining their flashlight under their face. “There was one significant incident where humans visited this cave. It happened in the winter of 1856. Two men, explorers, were driven into this cave by a blizzard. They were ill prepared for the harsh conditions, and their supplies soon ran out.” Gingie was walking alongside them, watching with an eager look. Ramirez started to grin, but quickly cleared their throat and put on a serious expression.

“They were in this cave for months, by themselves, trapped by the snow. Eventually, tensions began to rise. The two men began to turn on each other, convinced the other was out to get them. In the end, their hostilities boiled over, and they fought. Only one came out alive.” They lowered their voice. “And in the darkness of the cave, standing over the body of his friend, the victor’s hunger made itself known once more. It had been so long since he’d eaten. When other explorers found the cave, they found both men dead. The first from the fight, with great chunks of him ripped away. The second...from suicide. It appeared he was unable to cope with what he’d done. But no one was ever sure. They say his ghost haunts these caves, begging for forgiveness. Or maybe...Maybe he’s taken a liking to the taste of humans.” They leaned back, letting the words settle.

“Oh, bravo!” Gingie tucked his flashlight under his arm so that he could applaud them. “That was wonderful!”

“You sure know how to tell a story, kid.” Snowy chuckled.

“I didn’t go too far?” Ramirez smiled nervously.

“No no! Not at all!” Gingie said. “It was very engaging!”

“Ghost stories aren’t really my thing, but you seemed like you were enjoying yourself, so I liked it.” Snowy agreed. Ramirez felt a bit of color rising to their cheeks at this praise.

“In all seriousness,” they cleared their throat. “Two explorers did get trapped in here by a blizzard, one killed the other, probably ate some of the other to survive, and then died. And people do say they see a man in 19th-century clothing wandering around here.”

“Which is why you wanted to come here.” Snowy looked pointedly at Gingie, who smiled sheepishly.

“I was hoping I could help but his soul to rest.” He admitted. “I brought supplies as well!” He began digging around in the bag he’d brought.

“We better not get possessed,” Snowy muttered. “Ana would kill me if I let myself be possessed.”

“My dear Snowy!” Gingie let out a horrified gasp. “I would never let something like that happen to you!”

“Do they get in situations where they might be possessed often?” Ramirez whispered to Norman, who snorted quietly.

“More than you’d think.”

It didn’t take long before they’d reached the furthest point they could safely go. Ramirez told them when that was, gently tugging them back.

“Alright!” Gingie brightened. “Well, now that we’re here, would you mind terribly if I brought out the spirit box?”

“I hate the spirit box.” Snowy wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“I know you do.” Gingie smiled apologetically as he pulled out the device. “So I won’t run it for too long.” Ramirez was about to ask why Snowy hated the spirit box. Then Gingie turned it on. And after a moment or two, they understood. The spirit box was loud and the constant switching of channels produced an irritating static.

“Is there anyone here with us?” Gingie asked, his expression suddenly becoming serious. They all sat there in silence as the box kept switching channels.

“If there is anyone here with us, could you tell me your name?”

Still nothing, but Ramirez could have sworn the air around them had gotten colder. They could see their breath in front of their face.

“Our guide has informed us that you were trapped here with your friend.” Gingie continued, his gaze firmly on the spirit box. “And that you killed your friend. Do you have anything to say about that?”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a voice came out of the spirit box.

“...erved it...”

“Could you repeat that?” Gingie said calmly.

“He...deserved it...” A chill ran down Ramirez’s spine at the voice coming from the box. It was low, raspy, and full of rage. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be!

“That’s hardly a fair thing to say.” Gingie shook his head, a disappointed look on his face.

"Pretty sure his only mistake was getting stuck here with you,” Snowy said with a snide smile. The air around them was only growing colder. Ramirez was beginning to shiver now, rubbing their hands on their arms.

“You know...nothing...” The voice from the box growled. Ramirez could almost make out the figure of a man over the box. A haggard looking man dressed in 19-century clothing.

“Oh, I think I know quite a bit.” Gingie smiled sweetly. “Such as how to get rid of you.” The figure of the man solidified and went for Gingie’s throat. Ramirez shrieked and stumbled back, dropping their flashlight. All the lights in the cave went out, leaving Ramirez in darkness. They could hear the sounds of a struggle, as well as Snowy cursing. When the lights came back on, Norman was standing over them, holding out a hand to the park employee.

“You alright?” He rumbled.

“I...There was a ghost.” They stammered as Norman pulled them to their feet. “There was a man! And he talked to Mr. Drew and- and-”

“A ghost?” Gingie looked around wildly. “Where?” He was still in the same position he’d been before the lights had gone out. Snowy was in the same place as well, yawning and stretching.

“I...I thought...” Ramirez stared at the space where they’d seen the ghost. They had seen a ghost, hadn’t they? It had to have been there.

“You alright, kid?” Snowy asked. “You took a bit of a tumble there when the lights went out.”

“I...I’m okay.” Ramirez nodded slowly. Maybe...Maybe they were just working too hard.

Gingie and Snowy messed around in the cave for a little longer before they had all the footage they needed and Ramirez led them back out of the cavern. The men thanked them for their time and left in Snowy’s car. When the video eventually went up, Ramirez watched it and found no evidence of the ghost they thought they’d seen. Maybe they’d been imagining things. But something about Gingie’s smile as he and Snowy had left made them wonder. Oh well. They had other things to worry about.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim au #fanfiction #buzzfeed unsolved au #joey drew #joey snowy drew #snowy drew #gingie drew #norman polk #tw: mentions of cannibalism #tw: murder

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upontheshelfreviews · 5 years

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And now we come to the final piece of Walt Disney’s original animation trifecta, Fantasia, and it’s one I’m both anticipating and dreading. Fantasia isn’t just one of the crowning jewels in Disney’s canon, a landmark in motion picture animation, and second only to Snow White in terms of influential music and storytelling in the whole medium, it’s one of my top three favorite movies of all time. Discussing it without sounding like an old history professor, a pretentious internet snob, or a hyper Disney fangirl is one hell of a daunting task.

“Did someone say hyper Disney fangirl?! I LOVE Disney!!”

“I thought you only liked Frozen.”

“Well, DUH, Frozen is my favorite, which makes it, like, the best Disney movie ever! But Disney’s awesome! There’s a bunch of other movies I like that are almost as good!”

“And Fantasia’s one of them?”

“Yeah!!…Which one is that again?”

“The one with Sorcerer Mickey?”

“Ohhhh, you’re talking about the fireworks show where he fights the dragon!”

“No, that’s Fantasmic. I’m referring to Fantasia. Came out the same year as Pinocchio? All done in hand-drawn animation…has the big devil guy at the end?”

“THAT’S where he’s from?! Geez, that’s some old movie. Why haven’t I heard about ’til now?”

“Probably because you spend twelve hours a day searching for more Frozen GIFs to reblog on your Tumblr.”

“Ooh, that reminds me! I need to go post my next batch of theories about the upcoming sequel! Toodles!!”

“Thanks. Another second with her and I would’ve bust a gasket.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Anyway, it’s no surprise Sorcerer Mickey is what people remember the most from Fantasia, and not just because he’s the company mascot. “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” was the reason we have the movie in the first place. It began as a pet project between Walt Disney and renowned conductor Leopold Stokowski.

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“Yep. THAT Leopold.”

However, between the upscale in animation and the use of the Philadelphia Orchestra, the cost grew too high to justify the creation of only one short. Over time more sequences featuring animation set to various pieces of classical music were added in what was initially dubbed “The Concert Feature”. Later it was wisely changed to the more memorable “Fantasia”. It works not only because it’s derived from the word “fantasy”, but because “fantasia” is a term for a musical composition that doesn’t follow any strict form and leans towards improvisation. Combine the two meanings and you get the whole movie in a nutshell.

And this leads us to –

Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing #1: “It’s SOOOOOO boring! Nobody’s talking and nothing ever happens!”

You know, few recall that decades before Warner Brothers was known as that studio that made rushed prequels to beloved fantasy franchises and a hastily cobbled together superhero universe, it had humble origins in the music business; their Merrie Melodies and Looney Tunes shorts began as music videos made to sell their records. Disney’s Silly Symphonies followed in the same vein, though they focused more on pushing the envelope in animation technique and character resonance than selling music, as did the lesser known Harman-Ising Happy Harmonies.

And if that’s the case, then Fantasia is the Thriller of animated music videos. It’s the result of years of technological advancement and trial and error, all culminating in the flawless weaving together of visuals and some of the greatest music mankind has created to tell seven stories and elicit an emotional response for each one.

Let me repeat that: FANTASIA. PREDATES. THRILLER.

“And unlike Thriller, Fantasia has the advantage of NOT being directed by a man who literally got away with murder or involving an artist whose pedophilia accusations are still discussed a decade after his passing…at least as far as we know.”

By the way, if you’re watching the current version of Fantasia that’s available, do me a favor and pause the movie to watch the original Deems Taylor intros; while they’re shorter than the ones on the blu-ray, they have Deem’s original voice. All later releases have him dubbed over by Corey Burton because the audio for these parts hasn’t held up as well over time. Now Corey Burton is a phenomenal voice actor who’s done countless work for Disney before, but there’s a problem I have with him taking over these segments: One, he and Deems sound nothing alike, and Two, he makes him sound so dry and dull. Not to mention the longer intros practically spoil everything you’re about to see whereas the cut versions give you just enough to build some intrigue for what’s to follow.

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Regardless of whichever one you’re watching, Deems gives us the rundown on what Fantasia is all about and lists the three categories that the sequences fall under.

A concrete story

Clearly defined images with something of a narrative

Music and visuals that exist for its own sake

And the very first of these parts falls directly into the last one.

Toccata and Fugue in D Minor – Johann Sebastian Bach

Some hear this tune and attribute it as stock horror music, but for me it’s the start of a grand, dark, fantastical journey through realms of the imagination. While it is intended as an organ piece, this full orchestration blows me away. Capturing the orchestra in bold hues and shadows with colors specific to certain highlighted instruments was a brilliant move, setting the stage for what’s to come.

And if the previously referenced Bugs Bunny cartoon was any indication, the real Leopold Stokowski is one of the main draws to this segment. Stokowski’s claim to fame was that he ditched the traditional conductor’s baton and used his hands to guide the orchestra. His passion and restraint is plain for all to see, even in silhouette.

Ultimately Stokowski and the orchestra fade away into the animated ether. The idea behind Toccota and Fugue was to show a gradual transformation from the conscious world to the subconscious, providing a literal and figurative representation of what you see and hear with the music. That’s why the first animated images resemble violin bows sweeping over strings. Over time those distinct objects evolve into abstract geometric shapes.

Honestly, no amount of stills can capture what it’s like to watch this sequence play out. It’s a radically unique experience, almost like a dream.

Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing #2: “It’s the world’s first screensaver/musicalizer!”

This is something I hear often from people (ie. the people making the complaints I’ve chosen to highlight). First, read the previous Thing. Second, Toccata is not so much about recreating a story as it is capturing a feeling. And yet a story isn’t out of the question. I always saw at as glimpses of a battle of light versus dark, heaven versus hell, albeit not as overt as the opening of Fantasia 2000. That’s the beauty of this segment. It’s all up for interpretation. You can let the images and sounds wash over you as if you were dreaming it, or attach whatever meaning you find.

And on that note (ha) –

Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing #3: “God, all these animators must have been so fucking high to come up with this shit.”

I tell ya what, if you’re one of those people who think that, take whatever drug is handy, grab some crayons or whatever you feel comfortable doodling with, and when you’re comfortably high, draw one full second of animation. That’s 24 consecutive drawings that need to flow, squash and stretch into each other realistically. It doesn’t have complicated; it can be a ball bouncing, a flower blowing in the wind, an eye blinking, but it has to work.

Not so easy, huh?

Classic Disney animators who lectured at art schools received comments like this all the time. While there were some like Fred Moore who would go for the occasional beer run on breaks, there’s no record of narcotic or alcoholic influence on the animators’ turnout. I’m pretty sure Walt would’ve fired anyone who turned in work produced while high because it’d be awful. Animation was still a fairly new medium at the time, and Disney was constantly experimenting with what it could do, which is why we got things like this, the Pink Elephants, and other delightfully trippy moments throughout the 40’s, not because of drugs. Isn’t that right, classic Disney animator Bill Tytla?

“Of course! I’ve never done drugs, and I never drink…wine.”

The Nutcracker Suite – Pyotr Illich Tchaichovsky

Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing #4: “Yawn. Nutcracker is SO overplayed. Of course Disney had to jump on the bandwagon with their version!”

Ironically, the extended Deems Taylor intro has him mention how nobody performs Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker; in light of its modern seasonal popularity, the sentiment is rendered archaic. True, the ballet wasn’t an initial critical hit and Tchaikovsky himself virtually disowned it, but much of its ubiquity is largely due in part to Disney adapting it for Fantasia. It eschews the title character in favor of a nature ballet portraying the cycle of seasons. Initial planning included the overture and the famous march featuring woodland critters, though they were eventually cut. Walt considered pumping scents into the theater during this part, but was unable to figure out how to do it naturally. If they had Smell-O-Vision that might work, but what scents would you have to scratch off for the other Fantasia segments? Wood resin? Wine? Wet hippo? Brimstone?

The sequence begins with The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. In the night a group of fairies dance like fireflies, gracing spring flowers and spiderwebs with delicately timed dewdrops.

“Any of you girls seen Tinkerbell?” “She ditched us to hang out with that obnoxious flyboy.” “Again?! That’s the third time this month!”

The scene is atmospheric with beautifully rendered pastel backgrounds. After the fairies comes The Chinese Dance performed by a group of little mushrooms. It’s a cute number, and just another that was parodied more than a few times in other cartoons – wait do those mushrooms have slant eyes? And they’re prancing around nodding like extras in The Mikado…

You fungi are lucky you’re so darn adorable otherwise I’d sic the self-righteous side of Twitter on you.

Dance of the Reed Flutes follows. Lilies gently float on to the surface of a pond before inverting themselves to resemble twirling dancers with long, flowing skirts. And since I’m not always one to take the easy route, enjoy this niche reference instead of “You Spin Me Right Round”.

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A gust of wind blows the spinning lilies over a waterfall into some moody underwater caverns, where a school of unusually sultry goldfish perform the Arabian Dance.

Cleo, does Gepetto know about this?

A novel idea, using the basic swimming motions of a goldfish and their naturally diaphanous tails and fins as veils to resemble exotic dancers, though like other animated characters in a similar vein, this has led to some…”interesting” reactions from certain people.

Right, well, bubbles transition us into the penultimate movement, the Russian Dance. Thistles and orchids resembling dancers clad in traditional Russian peasant clothing spring to life in this brightly colored energetic minute. You’ll be chanting “hey!” along with it.

And finally, the Waltz of the Flowers. As a little girl I would often hold my own “ballets” to this scene, which mainly comprised of me in a ballet costume or fancy nightgown spinning around in circles for family members with this playing in the background. Top that, Baryshnikov.

Fairies similar to the ones from the beginning transform the leaves from fresh summer green to autumn orange, brown and gold. Milkweed seeds blossom forth and float through the air like waltzing ladies. This piece above all else is what really shows the beauty of nature. I feel more emotion watching the leaves pirouette in the wind than any plain live-action drama.

Fall turns into winter, and the fairies, now snow sprites, skate across a pond creating ice swirls while even more spiral down from the sky as snowflakes. The secret of animating these snowflakes was nearly lost to time. Several years ago a notebook by technician Herman Schultheis was rediscovered, revealing how many of the special effects in Disney’s early films – Fantasia in particular – were brought to life. The snowflakes were cels on spools attached to small rails from a train set that were filmed falling in stop motion and black and white, then superimposed on the final picture.

In conclusion, The Nutcracker Suite is a lovely piece of animation and music, and I’ll pop in Fantasia at Christmastime just to watch it. This was my introduction to The Nutcracker, and it’s an excellent and unique one.

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice – Paul Dukas

The symphonic poem of the same name now gets a proper name with Mickey Mouse stepping in the title role. It’s impossible to imagine any other character in his shoes, but for a time there were other considerations.

“Nope. Too wooden.”

“Too angry.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re just too darn loud.”

As we all know, Mickey was given the part since his popularity needed a boost. He doesn’t talk here, and I know those who find his voice grating wholeheartedly embrace that fact, but what we’re given is proof that Mickey works just as well silently as he does speaking. Very few cartoon characters can pull off that kind of versatility.

And while we’re on the topic of sound, Walt was so determined for the sound quality to match what was happening on screen that he devised a system he dubbed “FantaSound”, where it would seem as though the music would move around the the theater instead of just blare out from one speaker.

You read that right. Fantasia is the movie that invented SURROUND SOUND.

But that’s not the only technological leap Fantasia is responsible for – this is the first time we see Mickey with sclera.

That’s the white of the eyes for those who don’t speak science.

Before Fantasia, Mickey had what we refer to today as “pie eyes”, a relic of the era he was created in. As the art of animation progressed, animators found it increasingly difficult to create believable expressions with two little dots. Fred Moore is responsible for the mouse’s welcome redesign. Mickey as the apprentice serves the sorcerer Yen Sid, named after his real world counterpart.

“Hey! I didn’t teach him that!”

Mickey’s craving a taste of his master’s power, so he borrows his magical cap after he goes to bed and enchants a broom to finish his work of gathering water. It’s fun and bouncy, though the part where Mickey dreams he can control the cosmos, seas and sky is something to behold.

“The power! The absolute POWER!! The universe is mine to command! To CONTROOOOOOL!!!”

But Mickey is jolted from his dream of ultimate conquest when the broom begins flooding the place. Unfortunately the sorcerer’s hat doesn’t come with a manual so Mickey doesn’t know how to turn it off. He resorts to violently chopping the broom to pieces with an axe. The animation originally called for the massacre to happen on screen, but was altered to showing it through shadows instead. I think it’s much more effective this way. The implied violence is more dramatic than what we could have gotten.

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One of my favorite stylistic choices in Fantasia is what follows. The color is sucked out, drained if you will, mirroring Mickey’s exhausted emotional and physical state after committing broomslaughter. But it slowly returns as the broom’s splinters rise up and form an army of bucket-wielding drones. They overpower Mickey and catch him in a whirlpool until Yen Sid returns and parts the waters like a pissed off Moses.

“You! Shall not! SWIM!!!”

Mickey sheepishly returns the hat, and I have to give credit to the animators for the subtle touches on Yen Sid. He appears stern at first glance, but the raised eyebrow borrowed from Walt? The slight smirk at the corner of his mouth? Deep down, he’s amused by his apprentice’s shenanigans. Even the backside slap with the broom, while rendered harshly due to the sudden swell of music, is done less out of malice and more out of playfulness.

The piece ends with Mickey breaking the barriers of reality to congratulate Stokowski on a job well done.

“Hey! I didn’t teach him that!”

If you haven’t already guessed, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice is easily one of my preferred sequences. It’s energetic, perfectly matches the music, and features my favorite mouse in one of his most iconic roles. I joke about the scene where Mickey controls the waves and the sky due to Disney’s far-reaching acquisitions in the past decade, but within the context of the film it’s one of the most magical moments. Some theorize that The Sorcerer’s Apprentice is an allegory of Walt’s journey to create Fantasia itself, and there’s some merit to it – Mickey’s always been Walt’s avatar after all, and here he dreams big only to wind up way in over his head. But you don’t need to look for coincidental parallels to enjoy this part.

Rite of Spring – Igor Stravinsky

Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring is admittedly my least favorite part of Fantasia, though I don’t hate it by all means. Thematically it’s the furthest from the original work’s intent: instead of a pagan ritual involving a virgin sacrifice, we witness the earth’s infancy. I was never really into dinosaurs as a kid (I didn’t even see Jurassic Park until I was in fourth or fifth grade), and the thundering, threatening music put me off. I found it too long (twenty-two minutes is an eternity in child time), uninteresting, and dour compared to the other sequences, with the exception of one moment. I can appreciate it now that I’m older, though.

A solitary oboe echoes through the vast darkness of space. We soar past comets, galaxies, suns, and down into our lonely little planet still in the early stages of formation. Volcanoes cover the earth. They spew toxic gas, but their magma bubbles burst in precision with the music. Once again this is due to Herman Schultheis. He filmed a mixture of oatmeal, coffee grounds, and mud with air pushed up through a vent, and let the animators go to town on it.

The volcanoes erupt simultaneously. Lava flows and the ensuing millennia of cooling form the continents. But deep in the sea, the first protozoan life wriggles, divides, and evolves into multi-cellular organisms. One of them crawls up on to land, and finally we’re back in the time where dinosaurs weren’t just confined to zoos.

Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing #4: “Dinosaur inaccuracies…brain melting…”

True, most of the dinosaur and plant species here never shared the same period of existence, but try telling that to the animation studio or John Hammond. They mostly went for whatever looked cool and prehistoric regardless of scientific accuracy. Some of the designs themselves are a bit off, but the animators did their best considering how much we knew about the creatures in the 30’s and 40’s. Heck, we’ve only recently discovered that most dinosaurs were covered with feathers or fur, and I don’t see anyone harping on Jurassic Park for omitting that detail. Thank God Steven Spielberg doesn’t harbor George Lucas’ affinity for reworking his past movies with extra CGI.

Believe it or not, this scene was once considered the height of accurate dinosaur depictions on film, because nobody else had done it before with this level of research and care in animation. Without Rite Of Spring, we wouldn’t have The Land Before Time or Jurassic Park in the first place. Look at Land Before Time’s bleak, orangey atmosphere and the Sharptooth fights and tell me this didn’t influence it in any way.

The dinosaurs themselves have little character and, while fascinating to see how they might have lived, are not particularly engaging. Until…

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Yes, when the king of all dinosaurs makes his entrance, bringing a thunderstorm along with him no less, all the others are wise to run and hide from him. I would hide under a quilt but still peek through the holes in awe. He snaps about throwing his weight around, but when it goes toe to toe with a stegosaurus? That’s when things get real.

This battle, by the way, is animated by Woolie Reitherman, who had a knack for bringing gargantuan characters to life. He was responsible for animating Monstro in Pinocchio, and was behind Maleficent’s dragon form in Sleeping Beauty.

Though what follows is far from triumphant. The earth has become a hot, barren wasteland. The dinosaurs trudge through deserts and tar pits, their fruitless search for water turning into a slow death march. Not even the mighty T-Rex can survive this.

California: present day.

Some time later, the dinosaurs are all gone. Only their bones bleaching in the sun remain. Without warning, a massive earthquake hits and the seas flood through, washing away the remains of the old prehistoric world. The sequence comes full circle as the lonely oboe plays over a solar eclipse, which sets on an earth ready to step into the next stage of life.

If Walt had his way, the segment would have continued with the evolution of man and ended on a triumphant note with the discovery of fire, but he was worried about the possible backlash from zealous creationists. And I don’t blame him for wanting to avoid a confrontation with that crowd.

“It’s bad enough he makes a mouse act like a people with his dadgum pencil sorcery, but propagandizin’ evil-loution in mah Saturday mornin’ toon box? That’s just plum un-okkily-dokkily!”

“…You wouldn’t happen to have a dictionary on hand, would you?”

“DICTIONARIES ARE THE DEVIL’S BOOSTER SEAT!!”

Subsequently, those edits made to Stravinsky’s score pissed off the composer so much that he considered suing Disney for tampering with his work. He opted not to, yet the experience turned him off animation for good. A crying shame; Stravinsky, apart from being the only classical composer alive to see his work made part of a Fantasia feature, was excited to work with Walt. The two deeply respected and recognized each other as artists ahead of their time. Who knows what else could have come from their collaboration if things ended better?

With that knowledge, it makes sense that one of Stravinsky’s most famous pieces, the Firebird Suite, was included in Fantasia 2000: perhaps on some level Disney wanted to apologize for how the finale of Rite of Spring was mishandled by making Firebird the grand finale (though knowing Stravinsky he would have hated the little changes made to his music there as well).

Following the intermission, the orchestra reconvenes and has a fun little jam session. Deems Taylor takes a moment to introduce us to the most important – but rarely seen – figure that makes Fantasia and most music in movies possible, The Soundtrack.

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Once again, Disney does what it does best and anthropomorphizes what no one thought was possible. Think about it: giving personalities to animals is one thing, but they’ve successfully done the same for plants, planes, houses, hats, and here, sound itself. It may seem silly and out of place, but I think it’s brilliant and charming. The visuals it creates to represent different instruments are perfectly matched; some of them harken back to Toccata and Fugue. This, combined with the improv from the orchestra, is a good way to ease us back into comfort after the harshness of Rite of Spring.

Pastoral Symphony – Ludwig Van Beethoven

There’s a famous story about Walt Disney while he was pitching this segment. When met with complaints that it wasn’t working, he cried out This’ll MAKE Beethoven!” In a way, he was right. This was the very first piece of Beethoven I ever heard, even before the famous “da da da DUUUUUN” of Symphony #5. And as far as I know, it was for a good many Disney fans too. We still get a romantic depiction of the countryside as was the composer’s intent, but instead of an rural utopia, we see the Fields of Elysium at the foot of Mount Olympus. It’s home to a variety of mythical creatures from the golden age of Greece: fauns, unicorns, cherubs, centaurs and Pegasi.

If there was ever a Disney world I wanted to spend a day in, this would be it. It’s so innocent, laidback and colorful; it takes me right back to my childhood. A great portion of this sequence was used in my favorite music video in the Simply Mad About the Mouse anthology album, “Zip A Dee Doo Dah” sung by Ric Ocasek from The Cars. Whether that was my favorite because it featured Pastoral Symphony or Pastoral Symphony was my favorite because it was featured in the video I don’t know. There’s nothing that could ever destroy it for –

Oh son of a…

Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing #5: “RACIST. FUCKING. CENTAUR. EQUALS. RACIST. DISNEY… RACIST!!!”

Yes ladies and gents, that image is real. Meet Sunflower (or Otika, I’m not sure which one she is) one of the the censored centaurettes (for very obvious reasons). I’m of two minds when it comes to their inclusion. First off, yes, they’re crude and demeaning blackface caricatures that have no place in a Disney movie, let alone one of the best ones and in one of my favorite sequences. But my inner art/film historian that despises censorship feels that erasing these depictions is the same as pretending they and other prejudices of the time never existed.

Thank you, Warner Bros.

As time and the civil rights movement marched on, all traces of the Sunflower squad were removed from later releases of Fantasia. The downside to that was editing techniques at the time weren’t as high-tech as they are today; I was lucky to see a film print of Fantasia at the Museum of Modern Art in 2015 that must have dated as far back as the ’60s because she wasn’t there, but the cuts were very noticeable. Sad to say the amazing remastered tracks done by Irwin Kostal in the 80’s used a similar print because the shift in the music is very jarring at points in this segment. It wasn’t until Fantasia’s 50th anniversary that they were able to zoom in and crop the scenes that had Sunflower in them while recycling other pieces of animation over parts where they couldn’t get rid of her, eventually managing to digitally erase her from some of the film entirely (look carefully at the part where the red carpet is being rolled out for Bacchus on the blu-ray. Unless he got it from the Cave of Wonders, carpets normally don’t roll themselves…)

I completely understand the reasoning behind Sunflower’s removal, but can also see why animation aficionados would try to pressure Disney into bringing her back with each new re-release for Fantasia, possibly with one of those great Leonard Maltin intros putting everything into context like in the tragically out-of-print Disney Treasures dvds – though the chances of that happening are as likely as Song of the South being made public again (the Disney+ promo should have made that clearer when they claimed Disney’s entire back catalogue would be available for streaming, but I doubt the tag line “We have everything except Song of the South” would hook people). It’s an issue I’m very torn on. So if there was ever a chance that a version of Fantasia with a restored Sunflower was possible, either through Disney themselves or fan edits, my thoughts on it would be a very resounding…

The first movement of the symphony is “Awakening of Pleasant Feelings upon Arriving in the Country”, and this part does just that. As the sun rises and we get our first glimpse of the technicolor fantasyland. Pan flute-playing fauns and unicorns frolic with each other while a herd of Pegasi take to the sky. Again, going back to other notable movies taking cues from Fantasia, Ray Harryhausen carefully studied the movement of the Pegasi here when creating his stop-motion Pegasus for Clash of the Titans. They canter through the air as they would on land, but in the water they move with the grace of a swan.

And look at the little baby ones, they’re just too cute!

The second movement, “Scene by the Brook”, takes place exactly where you think it does. A group of female centaurs, named “centaurettes” by the animators, doll themselves up with the help of some cupids (and the aforementioned Sunflower) in preparation for mating season.

“”I used to like the centaurettes not just because they were pretty but because each of them having different colors could be interpreted as women of all colors hanging out together and finding love. But no, having Sunflower there confirms that they’re all supposed to be lighter-skinned ladies. Racism given context makes it no less of a pain in the ass.”

The male centaurs arrive and hook up with their conveniently color-matching counterparts. The cherubs help set the mood for their flirting interludes until they discover two shy, lonely centaurs (Brudus and Melinda, because I’m that big of a Disney nerd that I know their actual names) who haven’t found each other yet. They lure them to a grove with some flute music a la The Pied Piper and it’s love at first sight.

One of my favorite details throughout the Pastoral Symphony is that we keep coming back to Brudus and Melinda. They’re a cute couple, one of the closest things we have to main characters in this sequence, and it’s nice to follow them.

Our third movement is “Peasants’ Merrymaking”. The centaur brigade prepare an overflowing vat of wine for Bacchus, god of booze and merrymaking. Bacchus, forever tipsy, arrives backed up by some black zebra centaurettes serving him. Maybe they were considered attractive enough to avoid being censored.

The bacchanalia is in full swing with everyone dancing and getting loaded. But Zeus, who appears more sinister than Laurence Olivier or his future Disney counterpart, crashes the party with a big thunderstorm. I used to think he was a jerk for endangering his subjects just for kicks, but in light of recent revelations maybe he had ulterior motives.

“Feel the wrath of the thunder god, you fucking racists!”

“Come on, dad, you used to be fun! Where’s the Zeus turns into a cow to pick up chicks?!”

“He grew up. Maybe you should too, son. Now EAT LIGHNING!”

“The Storm”, our fourth movement, provides some stunning imagery against the torrential backdrop, from the centaurs being called to shelter to the pegasus mother braving the gale to rescue her baby.

Ultimately Zeus grows tired and turns in for the night, ending the storm. Iris, goddess of the rainbow, emerges and leaves her technicolor trail across the sky. The creatures revel in the effects it has on their surroundings, then gather on a hill to watch the sunset, driven by Apollo and his chariot. Everyone settles in to sleep, and Artemis, hunting goddess of the moon, shoots an comet across the sky like an arrow that fills the sky with twinkling stars.

Pastoral Symphony was the one part of Fantasia that always received the most derision from critics, but racist characters aside I simply don’t get the hate for it. It may be longer than Rite of Spring but feels nowhere near as drawn out. I love the colors, characters, and the calm, bucolic fantasy world it creates. This was my first exposure to Beethoven and the world of Greek mythology and I still hold plenty of nostalgia for it. I admit it’s not perfect, and not just for the reason you think. Out of all the Fantasia pieces, this is the one whose quality is closest to an original Disney short than a theatrical feature. It’s a bit more cartoony and there’s some notable errors, particularly when the baby Pegasi dive into the water and emerge different colors. Also, Deems and the animators flip between using the gods’ Greek and Roman names, and the stickler in me wants them to pick a mythos and stick with it. But for all it’s flaws it’s still among my very favorite Fantasia pieces and nothing can change that.

The Dance of the Hours from the Opera “La Giaconda” – Amilcare Ponichelli

Like I said before, Disney was a master of the art of anthropomorphism. And nowhere is this more true than Dance of the Hours. Animals portray dancers symbolizing morning, noon, dusk and evening – only they’re the most unlikely ones for the job. The characters of our penultimate act are as cartoony as any you’d see in a Disney short from the era, but what puts the animation above it is the right balance of elasticity and realism. The exaggeration is on point, but there’s enough heft and weight to the animals that I can buy them being grounded in (some semblance of) reality. The animators studied professional dancers and incorporated their moves and elegance flawlessly. Half of the comedy derives from this.

The other half comes from how seriously the mock ballet is treated. We’re never informed who the dancers will be, leading anyone who hasn’t seen this before to assume they’re people. The ballet itself is a parody of the traditional pageant, but the performers carry on with the utmost sincerity. It doubles the laughs when it comes to moments such as Ben Ali Gator trying to catch Hyacinth Hippo in a dramatic pas de deux or an elephant getting a foot stuck in one of her own bubbles as she prances around. The familiar lighthearted refrain of the dance provides wonderful contrast to the caricatures on screen, particularly if you recall its other most famous iteration beyond Fantasia.

No one ever told me Camp Grenada was this Arcadian or zoological.

Morning begins with a troupe of uppity ostriches in ballet gear waking up, exercising and helping themselves to a cornucopia of fruit for breakfast. They fight over some grapes only to lose them in a pool. Something bubbles up from beneath and the ostriches run away in terror, but it’s only the prima ballerina of the piece, Hyacinth Hippo. She prepares for the day with help from her handmaidens and dances around a bit. Then she lies down for a nap, but no sooner do her ladies in waiting leave than some playful elephants come out of hiding and dance around Hyacinth unawares.

Elephants blowing bubbles in a Disney feature…nah, it’ll never catch on.

The elephants are blown away by a gust of wind (must be a really strong breeze), and with the coming of night a sinister band of crocodiles sneak up on Hyacinth. They scatter at the sudden arrival of their leader, Prince Ben Ali Gator, who immediately falls in love with Hyacinth. Surprisingly, the feeling is mutual.

I’m calling it – first body positivity romance in a Disney flick.

The climax of the piece has the crocodiles returning to wreak havoc on the palace and pulling the ostriches, elephants, and hippos back into a frenzied dance which brings down the house.

No bones about it, Dance of the Hours is a comic masterpiece and one of Fantasia’s crowning jewels. And the moment it ended was always the signal for younger me to stop the tape and rewind it to the beginning, due to what follows making a complete and terrifying 180…

Night on Bald Mountain – Modest Mussorgsky / Ave Maria – Franz Schubert

At last we come to our final part, two radically different classical works that blend perfectly into each other. And brother, what a note to end on.

Composer Modest Mussorgsky passed away before completing his masterwork “Night on the Bare Mountain”, a tonal poem depicting a witches’ sabbath from Slavic mythology. His friend, the great Rimsky-Korsakov, finished it for him while adding his own personal touch. The result is some of the most iconic and terrifying music ever created, and the accompanying animation, with the exception of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, is the most faithful to its source material.

The scene takes place on Walpurgis Night, which is the closest thing Europe has to a real-life Summerween (those lucky so-and-so’s), on the titular mountain. The mountain’s peak opens up revealing Chernabog, the Slavic deity of darkness.

Chernabog is a masterclass in design and form. It’s easy to mistake him for Satan himself – Walt Disney and Deems Taylor both refer to him as such – though considering he’s technically Slavic Satan, there’s not too big a distinction. Chernabog radiates power, terror and pure darkness from his intro alone. You can imagine him influencing all other Disney villains to do his will, essentially filling in the horned one’s hooves. Chernabog was skillfully handled by Bill Tylta, an early Disney animator with enough talent to create characters as diverse as Stromboli and Dumbo. Bela Lugosi, the original Dracula, posed for reference pictures in the early design stages, though Tylta ultimately discarded them in favor of some different inspiration – sequence director Wilfred Jackson as model, and Tytla’s own Czech heritage. He grew up with folktales of Chernabog, which served him well during the production.

“Soon, master. The one known as Jackson shall take up your mantle and we shall feast upon humanity yet again.”

Chernabog unleashes his might on to the sleeping village below and raises the dead from the cemetery. A cabal of witches, wraiths and demons gallop on the wind and take part in his infernal revelry. Yet they are but playthings to the evil being. He transforms the creatures into alluring sirens and wretched beasts, sics harpies on them, condemns them to the flames, and lustfully embraces the hellish blaze. It’s an in your face pageantry of pure malevolence that you can’t look away from

Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing #6: “This is too scary for kids!! What the hell were they thinking?!”

I think it’s time we made one thing clear: Fantasia was NOT made for children – or to be more accurate, not EXCLUSIVELY for children. While Disney movies are made to be enjoyed by both kids and adults, Fantasia is the only one who dared to appeal to a more mature audience, and Night on Bald Mountain is proof of that. It had the audacity to explore some of the most darkest, ancient depictions of evil in a way that no Disney feature has before or since. Most importantly, it’s not done for shock value like any random horror movie you could name. It’s meant to show the juxtaposition between the darkest depravity and purest good; combined with Ave Maria it makes for the perfect symbolic climax to Fantasia. Light versus darkness, chaos versus order, life versus death, profane versus sacred, and the quest to master them all are the themes that unify the seemingly disparate sequences, and this finale is the apotheosis of that.

I stated in my Mickey’s Christmas Carol review that Bald Mountain was one of my first introductions to the concept of eternal damnation at the tender age of…I wanna say four, five? It was easily one of the most petrifying things from my childhood, but at least I could avoid some exposure to it thanks to its position at the very end. Though now I adore Night on Bald Mountain for how bold and striking it is. Tytla’s animation, Kay Nielsen’s stunning demon designs, and Schultheis’ effects culminate in harmonious diabolical artwork that’s impossible to extricate from the music. It’s a shame Schultheis left the studio after Fantasia. He met a mysterious, tragic end in Guatemala, right around the time Bill Tytla left too as a matter of fact…

“He knew too much…about the secrets of animation, I mean. Nothing at all about das vampyr walking the earth. No sir.”

Yet at the height of his power, one thing stops Chernabog cold – the sound of church bells. Disney historian John Culhane saw Fantasia during its original theatrical run (lucky so and so…) and he recalled how much having FantaSound affected his screening: when the bells rang, he could hear them coming from the back of the theater and slowly course their way up front as their power grew. It was an awe-inspiring moment that took the Bald Mountain experience one step further into reality.

The bells and the rising sun drive Chernabog and his minions back into the mountain and the restless spirits return to their graves. In the misty morning a procession of pilgrims glides through the woods like a parade of tiny lights, and thus the Ave Maria begins. It’s one of the rare times Disney has gone overtly Christian. Maybe Walt wanted to get back into the God-fearing American public’s good graces after the sorcery, paganism, devil worship and evolution theory we’ve witnessed in the past hour and fifty minutes. It does relieve the tension from the previous turn of events.

The first pitch had the march enter a cathedral, but Walt didn’t believe recreating something people can already see in Europe. So instead they move through a forest with trees and natural rock formations resembling the Gothic architecture of a cathedral. It’s the stronger choice in my opinion. The implication speaks greater volumes than a specific location, subtly connecting nature to the divine. It’s difficult to make out most of the hymn’s words, but regardless it sounds beautiful, especially those final triumphant notes as the sky lights up over a view of the verdant hilltops.

“When the sun hits that ridge just right, these hills sing.”

And with that, Fantasia comes to a close.

Really, what else can I say about it at this point. I keep forgetting this movie came out in 1940. It’s virtually timeless, and a must-see for anyone who loves animation and classic film and wants to jump into either one.

Fantasia was a critical and box office success…sort of. Despite the praise and high box office returns for the time, it sadly wasn’t enough to make up for the cost of putting it all together. Like Pinocchio before it, the war cut off any foreign revenue. And not every theater was willing or able to shell out for that nifty surround sound so the effects were lost on most people. Then there’s the audience response, which is the most depressing of all. The casual moviegoers still viewed Walt as the guy behind those wacky mouse cartoons and called him out for being a pretentious snob, while the highbrow intellectuals accused Walt of debasing classical music by shackling it to animation. The poor guy just couldn’t win.

Fantasia marked the end of an era. Never again would Walt attempt a feature so ambitious. His plans of making Fantasia a recurring series, with old segments regularly swapped out for new ones, would not be seen in his lifetime. There’s been the occasional copycat (Allegra non troppo), a handful of spiritual successors (Make Mine Music, Yellow Submarine), and of course the sequel which I’m sure I’ll get to eventually, but through it all, there is only one Fantasia. And no amount of my ramblings can hope to measure up to it. Fantasia is one of those movies you simply have to experience for yourself, preferably on the biggest screen available with a top of the line sound system. I know it’s a cliche for Internet critics to name this as their favorite animated Disney movie, but…yes, it’s mine too. It opened a door to a world of culture and art at a young age. The power of animation is on full display, and it’s affected the way I look at the medium forever. Fantasia was, and still is, a film ahead of its time.

Thank you for reading. I hope you can understand why this review took me nearly three months! If you enjoyed this, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patreon supporters get perks such as extra votes and adding movies of their choice to the Shelf. If I can get to $100, I can go back to making weekly tv show reviews. Right now I’m halfway there! Special thanks to Amelia Jones and Gordhan Ranaj for their contributions.

You can vote for whatever movie you want me to look at next by leaving it in the comments or emailing me at [email protected]. Remember, unless you’re a Patreon supporter, you can only vote once a month. The list of movies available to vote for are under “What’s On the Shelf”.

Artwork by Charles Moss. Certain screencaps courtesy of animationscreencaps.com.

To learn more about Fantasia, I highly recommend both John Culhane’s perennial book on the film and The Lost Notebook by John Canemaker, which reveals the long-lost special effects secrets which made Fantasia look so magical.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be spending the rest of the month with my handy dandy garlic, stake and crucifix and pray Bill Tytla doesn’t visit me this Walpurgis Night. I suggest you do the same.

March Review: Fantasia (1940) And now we come to the final piece of Walt Disney's original animation trifecta, Fantasia, and it's one I'm both anticipating and dreading.

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anndiscworld-phile · 5 years

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baseball shance

... so hi. yeah this post clearly did not go up in july 2018, of our lord. but ya know, shance!!!

here’s the post that started it all, and here are previous parts 1/7, 2/7, 3/7, 4/7

gosh i really hope that tumblr is allowing internal links, i think so???? also heads up, this is a dialogue heavy chapter

anyways, onwards to backstory and heartfelt late night discussions over cookies

Baseball Shance, 5/7

“So,” Lance said, “I’m bi.”

After the words left his mouth, he pondered over whether that was the best lead in to an explanation as to why breaking a teammate’s nose was like, not that bad, even if your whole professional career and reputation hinged on playing a team sport.

He was also probably coming off as an angry bisexual, which was a completely wrong impression. Lance was a laid-back bisexual.

Luckily, while Lance was wondering how to follow up his statement, Shiro seemed to have rebooted. After a solid minute of silence, he spoke.

“Hello bi, I’m gone,” he said, while Lance was biting into a cookie.

He tried to raise a hand to stop the spray of crumbs, but it was too late. Lance looked mournfully at the carpet and gave a silent apology to the hotel cleaning staff.

“Sorry,” Shiro said. “Reflex.”

“S’fine.” He swallowed his snicker doodle noisily. “I’m guessing you have questions about how my sexuality plays into the whole face breaking thing.”

“Surprisingly, my inquiries have narrowed.” Shiro gave him a wry smile, his eyes dark. “I guess I can’t think of too many reasons why being bi played a role in your conflict with your old team, unless it was fighting over which flag is cooler.”

“Guatemala’s,” Lance said immediately. “Coolest flag ever, best shade of blue. Don’t tell my parents I said that.”

“Of course,” Shiro said solemnly, but the lines around his eyes faded a little. He graciously gave Lance a moment to organize his thoughts.

He didn’t need it though. If there was one good thing about infamy, it was the certainty that sooner or later, people would ask about it. And Lance had been asked about this a lot. By his team, Luxia herself, to a long line of people ending with Allura and Coran.

This conversation wouldn’t be the last. However well he did this season, he was still going to be asked about his time as a Blue. By reporters, by fans. His new teammates would eventually ask too. Lance owed it to them, to be honest.

There were worse ways to have this conversation than with Shiro.

“So,” Lance said. “I didn’t exactly tell management that when they signed me on. Plaxum, my agent, had me be a lot more eloquent and strategic about it. But it was something they knew about pretty much from the beginning.”

“They were cool about it. I mean, they wanted me to stay single. I was a rookie, with a lot of room for a lot of improvement and they wanted me to focus on that. But, if I wanted to go clubbing or whatever, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if there was a picture of me with a dude. They wouldn’t say anything officially, but I didn’t have to hide it.”

“My team,” Lance stopped. “My old team. They were great. It never mattered to them, but not in a—I don’t see your sexuality kind of way. I got teased and roasted the way everyone else did.

“But then we started getting traded.”

“After your owner died,” Shiro said carefully.

“Yeah.” Lance ignored the pangs in his chest and kept talking. It was easier now to acknowledge how his team had changed, and how he changed as a result. Even if wasn’t proud of the way he made himself adapt. “By the next year, we had less than half of our roster. A lot of new guys. We weren’t the same team, so the shift in team culture was understandable.”

“I’m not naive. Maybe not everyone on my old team was completely cool with me being bi. But they were at least quiet about it, if they weren’t.” He leaned back into his chair, digging his the heels of his palms into the cushions.

“The new guys weren’t,” Shiro guessed.

“Nope,” the word popped off his mouth, almost casually. “But it wasn’t that bad at first, just side comments and stupid jokes—”

“Lance.” He turned his head slightly towards Shiro. He looked a little sad, a little furious. “It sounds like it was pretty bad at first.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess it was.”

It had been little things at first, just words. But they all cut, until hearing them talk was like scraping himself against coral. He could ignore it during games, and his old teammates did their best to shield him from the bullshit. But Lance had working ears and eyes and a brain. It got to the point were he could hone in on hostility from fifty paces away.

The locker room was a trial, every time. And that really, is what finally got to Lance. He had loved the locker room, not the smell or the confirmation that wow, some people really had questionable hygiene. He loved the laughter, and the pep talks, and the pranks. He loved the camaraderie, the bright noise, and joy. And Lance lost that, and it become another space he had to share with people who hated him.

So really, it was fitting that when he finally cracked, it happened there, of all places.

“It escalated,” Lance said. “I didn’t help with that. They talked shit, I. Well.”

“Talked shit back?”

“Flirted,” he corrected. Shiro looked at him incredulously. “It seemed like that would piss them off more than anything. So.”

It was, in retrospect, not a good idea to deal with adversity with obnoxious flirtation, but well. There are many ways to get through life’s hardships, and a lot of Lance’s methods involved flirting. So he did, even when he was slammed into lockers.

“You know,” he had gasped out, while shoving away at Chase’s hands. “I saw a porno start like this once.”

Chase had not reacted well, and really the whole thing hadn’t ended well. And yet, sad as it was, breaking Chase’s nose was honestly the highlight of that season.

“Someone hits me, I give someone a free facial modification. Then I got chewed out and benched for the rest of the series for ‘starting it.’” His mouth twisted. “He ended up getting a talking to, but it didn’t really do anything. As long we weren’t actually brawling, management didn’t really care. So there was a lot of everything else.”

“Like?”

Lance shrugged. “Trash talk, hazing. A lot of quiet in-fighting. We all tried to keep it off the field, but there gets a point where that’s just not possible. People could see that we weren’t connecting, and stuff got leaked.”

Stuff like how Hurricane McClain didn’t just shed tears, he threw punches. How he refused to apologize for his actions and didn’t hang out with the team after hours.

“I’m sorry you went through that.” Shiro wore a heavy expression, eyes solemn and and brow creased.

Don’t, he wanted to say, you’ll get wrinkles.

“Some got traded or let go. I got to stay,” Lance said. And that was the kicker. Even in his worst moments, he’d never wanted to leave. He’d been grateful to stay. He scrubbed at his eyes, recognizing the telltale sign of moisture at the corners.

A cookie came into view and he saw Shiro lifted the last Snickerdoodle between them like a peace offering.

“Well, at the risk of sounding selfish,” Shiro said, while they spilt the cookie neatly in half, “I’m glad you left.”

“Yeah.” Lance admitted softly. “Me too.”

-x-

A new season always had everyone excited, it was like a reaction to spring itself. Possibilities seemed ripe and there was a palpable eagerness in the air to test how far you’d come, how much training had paid off.

That bright anticipation faded after each game, solidifying into a more realistic look at the challenges and obstacles coming up. But this year, the excitement lingered, all the way into the forth series of the season.

Shiro knew why. This was the series Lance was pitching.

New teammates were a fact of life and they came into play every season, but athletes with potential like Lance were more rare. Baseball was a team sport and one player couldn’t win a series. But a pitcher had weight and everyone was eager to see where their newest acquisition would fall on the scale.

There was confidence now. Despite trusting management and staff, the Lions’ had been wary. That was to be expected. Lance was a new part, introduced to an already efficient machine. But now they’d trained with him, travelled with him, and Lance was familiar—not family maybe, not yet, but an ally definitely.

Shiro took quick stock of his team, making sure they were all there. This close to game time, you’d think it would be a guarantee, but past experience taught him to account for everything from break ups over text to sudden food poisoning symptoms. Once, Pidge ate spoiled peanut butter and they lost her for the entire week.

Luckily, everyone seemed to be accounted for. By the time Kolivan swooped in, they were lined against the lockers. The Lions were ready, and it wasn’t a surprise why.

They were going to win today.

Lance caught his eye from across the room and grinned. Shiro looked away to focus on what coach was saying, but he found himself smiling a little anyway.

They were going to win today.

---

sadly the astros did not make it to the world series this year, but they came damn close and much like shance, they remain the champions of my heart

thanks to everyone for reading and following along this story. i’m excited to hear what you guys think, even if it is a, wow, that took a while. I am tentatively promising to finish this up by the end of the year, so fingers crossed!!

later gators, thanks again, and i hope you enjoy this snippet!!

#baseball shance #shance #voltron legendary defender #man it's been a while since i used some of these tags #anyways thank you guys for coming back to this and giving this series a shot #feedback is definitely appreciated #shance au #my fic

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theladyofdeath · 6 years

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Friday Night Lights {ACOTAR}

Chapter 1

Summary: Inspired by the series Friday Night Lights. In a town that is obsessed with football, a group of teenagers are glorified for what they bring to the field. But what the people of Velaris don’t realize is that there is a lot more to life than football, and it’s not always pretty.

Revolves around Cassian, Nesta, Elain, Lucien, Azriel, Morrigan, Amren, Feyre, and Rhysand.

*Warning: This fic deals with sensitive material.

*Note: A chapter will be posted every Wednesday.

Click here for previous chapters.

Author’s Note: Hey, y’all. Once again, I’m posting earlier. Earlier is better than later. I was meant to post tomorrow, but I got called in to work double, and I didn’t want to be too exhausted when I got home (which I will be!)! So, I hope you enjoy chapter one. I’m so excited to finally get the ball moving on this fic! Great things are coming. I would love to know what you all think. :)

Enjoy. <3

“Why are you nervous? You’re gonna do great. I promise. When I come pick you up later, you’ll be thanking me for bringing you to school.”

Alana, at only five years old, rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” Cassian agreed, handing his little sister her pink, glittery backpack. “But I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

Despite herself, Alana smiled. “Fine. But if I hate it, I’m going to punch you in the face when you pick me up.”

“You’ll have to catch me first,” he winked, before rising to his feet from where he was kneeling in front of her. “Alright. You’ve got your backpack, your lunchbox – which is filled with a delicious PB&J, by the way – and a sweet unicorn notebook. Now, go kick ass.”

“Shhhh,” she scolded. “You’re not allowed to say A-S-S. You’re going to get in trouble.”

Cassian quickly covered his mouth, and tried his best to look theatrically apologetic. “You’re right, I’m sorry. See? You’re already smarter than me. School is good for you. Now, go. Learn. And I promise I’ll be here right after you get out. Okay?”

She nodded, but her smile gently faded as she took a step back and began to walk toward her classroom.

“Lana?”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder.

He gave her a quick thumbs-up. “You’ve got this.”

It wasn’t until she stepped into the classroom that Cassian loosened his breath. He had done everything in his power that morning to make her feel confident – he did her hair and topped it off with a beautiful, ivory bow, surprised her with a new dress that he had found almost brand new at the thrift store, and made her one of his famous PB&J sandwiches that she would beg him for almost every night for dinner.

Now, he could only hope for the best.

It was only kindergarten.

Cassian had not neglected to realize how parents looked at him as they made their way out of the school. He was young, and would have had to have Alana when he was only thirteen. But he was used to the judgements. He was basically her only caregiver, thanks to their no-good mother.

Alana wasn’t meant to be born. Cassian was amazed she had even made it through childbirth with how much his mom smoke and drank with her in the womb.

Thirteen. He was thirteen when she was born. And he had taken care of her since, in every way that he could.

He had fumbled around a lot, at first. It’s not like he had a prime example of how a parent, or a caregiver, should act. His mother was a bum and his father left when he was five. His grandmother was beautiful, in every way, but she had begun to show signs of Alzheimer’s when he was only eleven, and was put in a home, where she had been ever since.

So, thirteen-year-old Cassian had read a lot of “What to expect when you’re expecting” and hoped for the best. He had stolen a lot of formula, and used a small blanket as a diaper, but they had survived.

Their mother wasn’t always bad. She went through phases. Every now and then, she would say she was trying to get better. She would stop, for a small amount of time, and would care for her children to the best of her ability, which wasn’t saying much. Then, she would relapse.

Every time.

As the bell rang, Cassian cursed, earning even more hateful glances from passing parents, as he ran out of the school building, and across the street to Velaris High.

He had to hold up his jeans as he sprinted – his leather belt that he had worn for years had ripped that morning – and tried not to trip over his untied, bulky boots as he practically fell into homeroom.

Everyone stopped and looked at him, which he lazily smiled at in return. “Good morning.”

Some of the girls waved, and giggled under their breath. It was Rhysand who stood up in the back corner, his own sweatshirt that read Velaris High Football mirroring Cassian’s. “Don’t worry, Cass. You made it here before the teacher.”

Cassian was overjoyed when he found out he was having Helion for homeroom for the second year in a row. He was casual, probably way too casual for a teacher, and was never on time.

As he sat at a desk in the back, Cassian slapped Azriel across the back of the head. “Where were you last night?”

“Oh, uh,” he hesitated, and his cheeks stained crimson. “Nowhere. I just…..didn’t quite make it. Sorry.”

There was a bonfire at one of their teammate’s houses, welcoming in the new school year. Cassian and Rhysand had made it an hour before coming to the conclusion that Azriel wasn’t showing up.

Alana had stayed with Rhysand’s mother and younger sister, whom she adored.

Cassian leaned in closer, slightly concerned. “Things going okay?”

“Yeah,” Azriel answered, quickly. “Yeah, I was just tired. Been putting in extra hours in the weight room.”

Cassian nodded, although he wasn’t convinced. Azriel fell into the pit of darkness and despair more than the rest of them did, and although he usually pulled himself out, he had a history.

“Hey, losers.”

“Ah, Morrigan,” Cassian sighed, turning his head to find the blonde beauty standing behind him. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” She ruffled his hair, and he pushed her hand away. “You’re going to ruin the manbun. It’s an art, Mor.”

Cassian had known Mor just as long as he had known the others, since elementary school. He and Mor used to have a thing, if one could even call it that, but they ended up being just friends. Their so-called relationship felt too forced, too unnatural.

She was beautiful, though. That much was obvious. It didn’t help that every boy in that testosterone filled school looked at her as if she were the only girl in the hallways.

Before Mor could come up with yet another cunning response, the door flew open and Helion stepped in, but he wasn’t alone.

Cassian swore Azriel sucked in his breath.

“Hello, class, good morning! I’m sorry I’m late, but I was showing around our new student.” As Helion spoke, everyone was looking at the girl behind him. She was fairly short, her dark, brown hair in long, loose curls. She wore a floral sundress as she stood with a smile on her face. “Students, welcome Elain Archeron. Do we have any volunteers to show her to her first class this morning?”

Cassian eyed Azriel, and gave him a wink, but Azriel just rolled his eyes and went back to his doodling.

“I will.”

Ugh, Cassian thought. Lucien.

“Mr. Vanserra,” Helion smiled. “Perfect. Elain, if you’d like to take a seat next to Lucien, he will guide you through your first day. I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

“Total shit?” Mor mumbled. “Because that would be an improvement from last year for me.”

Cassian grinned as Elain thanked Helion, and sat next to Lucien.

Azriel’s eyes followed her from underneath his dark bangs until she took her seat.

Feyre was taking P.E. for her first period of the day, and she found it to be a horrendous twist of fate. They wouldn’t let her take art, because she was required to have two physical education credits to graduate, and she hadn’t taken any at her old school, Lowell High. So, she was spending her morning in P.E. and her afternoon in weight lifting.

Weight. Lifting.

Sighing, she stood in the gym at 8:20 in the morning in her royal blue gym shorts and t-shirt that read VHS Physical Education.

She longed for her paint brushes.

It wasn’t that she was in bad shape. She was actually pretty fit. Although she considered herself more of the artistic type, Feyre would take a jog every day before school to escape the morning wrath of her father.

As she watched the others that would be in her class meander into the gym, Feyre sighed. She was exhausted. The night before, her first night sleeping in Velaris, had been an adventure of sorts.

Alis was nice. So were here boys. But if Feyre had learned anything, it was not to trust anyone. She could hardly sleep as she kept one eye open, glued to the door, which she had locked before the three sisters turned their light out.

Elain had thought she was ridiculous, and Feyre expected nothing less. Elain looked for the good in everyone, and Feyre did the opposite.

She looked for the worse.

She was still looking for something bad in Alis, but Feyre was sure she would find it. People always showed their true colors eventually.

“New girl?”

Feyre spun around to find the most beautiful male she had ever seen.

He was tall, and not wearing the same gym uniform that she was. He was wearing long, black sweatpants and a hoodie that read Velaris High Football. His violet eyes were in deep contrast to his pushed back black hair.

Feyre quirked a brow. “Is that how you greet everyone?”

“Only the beautiful ones,” he smirked.

Feyre rolled her eyes, and turned her back to him.

“Don’t harass her, Rhys,” another male voice appeared behind her. It wasn’t light, though. It was hard. Cruel. Annoyed.

She turned, her curiosity getting the best of her. Rhys was looking at a new boy, nearly the same height with shoulder-length blonde hair. His piercing green eyes were watching Feyre.

“Don’t be a dick, Tam,” Rhys, the first one with the violet eyes, shot back.

Feyre took in the two males, their stances as they looked at each other. There was tension there. There was history.

“Don’t listen to either of them.” She hadn’t even realized there was a girl standing next to her until she spoke, sending Feyre jolting in the air. “Sorry, new girl. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just came to tell you not to pay attention to these two dimwits.”

She was nearly a foot shorter than Feyre, with her chin length black hair and almond-shaped eyes.

“Who are you?” Feyre asked, because the girl had yet to look at her.

“Amren, no need to scare the living shit out of the new girl.” It was Rhys. The boy with the violet eyes.

Those damn violet eyes.

“Will everyone stop calling me that?” Feyre snapped. “It’s Feyre.”

There was silence, and then, “That’s a weird name.”

I hate this school, she thought to herself, as the gym teacher strolled out onto the middle of the floor.

He was short and bald with gym shorts on that were way too short, and a whistle hanging around his neck. “Laps! Now!”

Yes. She was most definitely going to hate it.

Rhysand hated the locker room. It smelled atrocious, and there were clothes and mother-knows what else in some of those lockers that had been there since Rhysand started Freshman year.

“Tamlin intends on being a dick again this year, it seems.”

Rhysand chuckled at Cassian’s words, although they rang true. He was thankful for Amren, who came and broke the building tension. If Rhysand knew Tamlin, which he did, he knew his first comment was the first of many that he had planned.

“Tam is incapable of not being a dick,” Rhysand sighed. “He’s too much like his father.”

Cassian whistled in agreement as he lifted his damp gym shirt over his head. “Feyre looks a lot like the new girl from homeroom. Think they’re related?”

At mention of Elain, Azriel peeked over his shoulder.

Rhysand shrugged. “Maybe.”

“She seems nice. Feyre.”

“Really?” Rhysand scoffed. “She called me a prick every five minutes for the last hour.”

“That’s why I like her,” Cassian grinned.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have kept trying to talk to her, or flirt, or whatever you were trying to do,” Azriel suggested. “She’s new. She’s walking unknown territory, she may need space.”

Rhysand blinked. “Thank you for the advice, wise Azriel.”

Azriel rolled his eyes before returning to his deodorant.

“Have you twats heard from Mor today?”

Fury settled in the pit of Rhysand’s stomach as he turned to see Eris standing on the other side of him.

“For some reason, she likes you all,” he continued, when no one said anything. “Although, I’ve tried to convince her otherwise.”

“Not texting you back?” Cassian asked, in that dangerous, witty way of his. “You should probably take that as a hint.”

Eris laughed, unamusingly. “I give her much more than most guys can. Have you heard from her or not?”

No one answered.

Rhysand had walked with her to school that morning, actually. She seemed distant, like something was off. But he knew her. He knew that she didn’t want to talk about it, that she would bring it up when she was ready.

And if she wasn’t talking to her boyfriend, perhaps it had something to do with him.

Eris shook his head before backing away. “Idiots. I’ll have to give Mor another talk about who she chooses to hang out with.”

Rhysand put his arm on Cassian’s shoulder, because he could see the anger begging to be unleashed from his friend’s inner being.

“He’s an asshole,” Azriel mumbled. “He’s trying to piss you off, don’t let him get to you.”

Cassian gave him a curt not before reaching into his locker and pulling out his torn-up jeans.

Rhysand had known Eris and his brother, Lucien, since elementary school. They were polar opposites, but unfortunately both revolved around crowds that Rhysand couldn’t stand.

“Why do you bother with her, anyway?” one of Eris’ boys asked from further down the row of the lockers, loudly, so that the three Illyrians could hear.

Cassian’s hands slowed as he tugged his jeans up over his boxers, but Azriel had stopped completely.

Rhysand knew what was coming. He had been in this situation before with Eris. He liked the drama. He liked the tension. He liked the fight, and Rhysand hated him for all of those things.

“Ignore him,” Rhysand muttered, pulling on his hoodie.

“Because she’s hot,” Eris said, turning to Rhysand and giving him a conniving grin. “She may be a dumb blonde, but she’s good in bed –“

Rhysand had just pulled his hoodie over his face when he saw Cassian, jeans still unbuttoned, flying down the rows of lockers before grabbing Eris by the neck of his shirt and pinning him up against the cool, red metal.

The word stop didn’t make it out of Rhysand’s mouth before Cassian’s fist collided with Eris’ jaw, then his nose.

Eris was just as big as Cassian, but Rhysand often forgot how brutal Cassian could be. He was a gentle spirit, but he had lived a rough life. He had learned how to stand up for himself, and his sister. He could keep himself in check most of the time, was good at keeping his cool, but there were certain things he would not take.

Degrading women? Offending those he loved? Those were his biggest ticking points.

And he loved Mor.

As blood trickled over Eris’ mouth, Azriel and Rhysand were at Cassian’s back, trying to pull him off.

Coach B, who most likely had heard the noise of boys hollering with excitement from within his office in the back of the locker room, came around the corner and took in the scene.

The football coach’s big, burly hands grabbed Cassian’s arm and pulled him off his opponent. “What the hell is going on in here? It’s the first day of school, and you two are already acting like savages? Vanserra, get dressed and see the nurse. Rhysand, Azriel, get to second period. Nazari…” he looked at Cassian and shook his head. Disappointed, but not surprised. “My office. Now.”

Elain wandered through the crowded hallways with Lucien at her side.

“So,” he cleared his throat, glancing at her with russet eyes. “What do you think so far?”

They mostly had the same schedule, which Elain was thankful for. She does okay in new situations, in unknown territory – at least better than Feyre – but, it was nice to have a guide for the day.

A handsome one, at that.

It wasn’t that Lucien was the most handsome guy she had ever seen, but there was something about him that made Elain’s heart feel a little lighter. His red hair was perfectly sculpted, all back from his clear complexion. Clear, except for the light scar that ran from his forehead to his cheek.

He was dressed nicely, too, which had always been something Elain liked in a boy. His blue jeans fitted him nicely, paired with a screen tee that had an old, vintage camera on it.

“Well,” Elain sighed, “history was okay. No one’s looked at me too strangely, and I haven’t gotten shoved into a locker yet. I can’t say it’s all that bad.”

Lucien smiled. “Well, that’s good to hear. Next, we have Algebra. Then, you have your creative class. What did you sign up for?��

Elain gasped. She had forgotten to ask this morning when she had arrived. “I haven’t signed up for anything yet. I completely forget –“

“No worries. You’ve still got time. You should sign up for yearbook, that’s where I go. The group is really fun…..I think you’d like it.”

She gestured to his t-shirt. “Photographer?”

Lucien laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

Elain grinned. “That’s cool. I would like to see your pictures sometime.”

Lucien’s smile became gentler. “I would like that, too.”

A dark, hooded figure ran into Lucien’s shoulder.

“Oh,” the boy turned. “Sorry.”

It was the boy from homeroom. Azriel, she thought his name was.

The sight of him captivated her. He was dressed in black, his eye-length hair peeking out of his hood. There was something about him, something haunting…..like shadows dancing around his being.

“Watch it,” Lucien snapped, his entire demeanor changing.

Elain glanced back and forth between the two boys, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the middle of them.

“I apologized,” Azriel replied, clipped, before turning his back to the pair and walking away.

“I would stay away from him if I were you,” Lucien said, once he had walked further down the hall, into the sea of students.

“Why?” Elain asked.

“He’s just….different. Broody. Never smiles. Kinda creepy.”

Elain nodded, although she wasn’t so sure.

She had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to stay away from the boy with the shadows.

Cassian sat, still shirtless, staring at a plaque that read Coach Bryaxis Bell.

He hated his name, so they all called him Coach B. The plaque typically made Cassian laugh, typically had him spewing jokes like it was his job.

But not today.

Coach B shook his head from the other side of his desk. “Cassian……You could get expelled for this, do you realize that?”

Cassian didn’t answer.

Coach B shook his head. “You probably broke his nose. I need him on the defensive line –“

“I’m sorry, okay? I lost it for a minute. But he was being a prick –“

“The hallways are filled with idiots, are you going to punch every single one of them?”

Cassian stayed silent, then shook his head.

After tossing Cassian a spare t-shirt, Coach B sighed. “How’s your mom?”

Cassian shrugged the shirt on, then shook his head. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen her in a few days. Since she came home drunk off her ass and passed out in the middle of the hallway.”

Coach B watched him curiously. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“Who gives a shit,” Cassian snapped, then felt bad.

Coach B was trying to help. Cassian remembered how terrified he was of the big, burly coach his freshman year. He looked like something from Cassian’s nightmares. But, over the past four years, he had grown to like the man. He had become, in some strange way, a friend.

“She goes away like this every now and then. She always comes back.” Then Cassian added, “Unfortunately.”

“Well,” Coach B sighed, just as he always did when he was disappointed. “I’m going to give you one month’s detention.”

“What?” Cassian exploded. “Seriously?”

“Care for expulsion instead?” When Cassian shook his head, Coach B continued, “Don’t worry about Alana. I’ll send Rhys to get her from school.”

He must’ve seen the horror in Cassian’s eyes. He was all she had. Alana would be waiting for him when the final bell rang, and he would never come.

“She’ll be right by my side until you get to practice, just like always,” Coach B promised. “But I have to punish you. As much as I think Eris is an ass, violence on school grounds is unacceptable.”

Cassian tried to smile. “Says the head football coach.”

Coach B chuckled. “Last time I checked, they don’t allow nose shots in football, either.”

Cassian grabbed his late-pass from Coach B and entered the hallways just after the second bell rang. It was day one of his senior year, and he had already gotten detention. As he ran his fingers along the cool lockers, he found himself wondering if colleges took a hard look at how many detentions an applicant received throughout high school.

Because he was sure he was sitting at the top of the list.

Then again, he couldn’t go to college, could he? He had to stay for Alana. He couldn’t leave her there, by herself. Even if he took classes at Velaris, how would that work? He heard that freshmen had to live on campus. He couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t leave his little sister with their mother.

Alana deserved better than a mother couldn’t care less about her.

Then again, she deserved better than a brother who couldn’t control his temper, too.

Cassian paused at his locker, and hung his head.

Nesta tried her best not to fiddle with her thumbs as she sat in the school office, waiting to be called in for her first day at work.

She had graduated high school at seventeen, and found herself at Velaris University the next Autumn. Now, she was nineteen and halfway through her academic journey, well on her way to being a teacher. Until then, she figured she would try and get herself into the local school district.

And she had.

It was a job with little pay, but she didn’t care. It would lead to bigger things. Greater things.

“Miss Archeron?”

Nesta shot to her feet once her name was called, and brushed down on her pencil skirt although there were no wrinkles. She greeted the headmaster with a smile as she reached out her hand toward his. “Good morning, Mr. Collins. Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Miss Archeron. I’m glad to have you on board here. I’d heard your sisters started here this morning.”

“They did,” she said, as they walked into his office and took a seat. “I’m sure they’re loving it.”

Mr. Collins gave Nesta a cunning smile as he sat on the opposite side of his desk. He was young, at least for a headmaster, probably in his early forties. His hair was dark, with the slightest hints of grey in his mustache. His pale skin was in perfect contrast to his green eyes.

“Well, Miss Archeron, I guess we should get to work,” he said, handing her a file of papers. “You will be an assistant and aide for the office, as you know. I was also hoping you wouldn’t mind sitting in on detentions.”

Nesta’s hand stilled, midway to grabbing the files from him. “Detention?”

“Yes, it will be for an hour after school. We will pay you, of course. That won’t be an issue, will it?”

“No sir,” she said, although hesitantly. “No, that won’t be an issue at all.”

His grin was almost scary as he replied, “Good.”

Chapter 2 will be posted on Wednesday, January 10.

#tacmc FNL #fnl #friday night lights #acotar #acomaf #acowar #fanfic #fanfiction

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homeiswherethestuckis · 7 years

Text

Red Pen: a soulmate au

For @notedchampagne, I hope this has enough cheese for you ;)

(there’s some formatting issues that I still haven’t figured out so sorry about that but I’m working on it I promise)

You were six years old the first time you talked to your soulmate. Well, no that’s not completely true. It was the first time you had talked to your soulmate using actual words. You’d doodled on your skin a lot when you were younger, both out of curiosity and because you were a small child and you didn’t really care about “looking presentable” one way or the other.

It was always a delight to watch somebody else’s scribblings magically appear on your skin. Some days you would spend hours just drawing all over yourself and wait for a response, which mostly just ended up being swirly lines or x’s crossing out your own work. Clearly whoever it was didn’t appreciate being drawn on as much as you did.

You’d never really thought of your soulmate as another person (it was hard to think about someone who you couldn’t see and never even talked to in your entire life as anything more than a phantom doodler when you were little) until that fateful day in kindergarten when you got bored and decided to practice your letters on your arm instead of pay attention.

The sight of a word on your arm that you didn’t write did make you stop for a second to look at it. This was the first thing your soulmate had ever said to you. Stop. It was written in big gray slashes right under your letter practice. There was enough room for you to probably finish up the rest of the alphabet, there was no way you were letting whoever this was stop you.

This one covered up all the letters you’d written so far. You grit your teeth and decided you were not going to quit it, and whoever it was could suck it up and deal with your sloppy red letters on their skin. You switched arms and started writing with your other hand.

There was more furious scribbling all up and down your arm. Your soulmate just covered their entire arm in gray ink to try and keep you from writing on your own skin anymore. Your soulmate is such a weirdo.

Little did they know, you were also a weirdo.

You looked around the room. The teacher was reading a book to the class and not paying any attention to you. You tried to be as subtle as you could about rolling your pants up.

There’s a tapping on your shoulder. You look over and find your cousin Rose looking at you. Mostly at your leg. She points at it, and tilts her head questioningly. You don’t really have a response for her at the moment, so you just shake your head and hope she understands that you’ll try to explain later.

You hope she stays quiet for now.

You’re out of letters now, so you just start drawing random shapes and doodles to mess with them. Every time you draw something they cross it out or scribble over it with their gray marker. You have to try really hard not to giggle. You’ve never seen someone react to doodles like this and it’s really funny to you.

From out of the corner of your eye, you can see Rose raising her hand.

“Teacher,” she says, interrupting storytime. “Dave is coloring on himself.”

“Dave Strider,” your teacher scolds, slamming the book in her hands closed, “you stop that right now.”

You don’t exactly get what she’s mad about it, but you put your marker down on your desk anyway because you don’t want to get in real trouble. “Sorry.”

You stop drawing on yourself, and after a minute or two your soulmate stops, too.

You don’t think about it again until later on that night after you had to spend an extra twenty minutes in the bath trying to wash all of the red and gray ink off of yourself. You were annoyed about it and complained the whole time.

“You’re mad?” Your brother snorted. “Imagine how your poor soulmate feels. They had to deal with all of this bull too, you know.”

“They did?”

“Yeah, they did.” He nodded. “And you know what else?”

“What?”

He pointed to the faded “KWIT IT” still visible on your arm. “They clearly weren’t having fun with this.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, Dave, you gotta be nice to your soulmate. You only have one of those, you know. I’m not saying you have to stop drawing on your skin or trying to talk to them, because you’re not gonna get anywhere with them if you never talk to them, but if they ask you to stop what you’re doing, then you should listen to them. Especially if they ask you to stop repeatedly.”

You’d nodded. “Okay. I’ll be nice.”

“Good, I’m sure they’ll appreciate that, little dude.”

You’re in bed now, wrapped up in blankets with your skin completely scrubbed clean. You’ve been thinking a lot about what your brother said, and you feel a little bad about what happened earlier. There’s a pen and some paper scattered on your bedroom floor. You crawl out of bed and grab the pen before sneaking right back in.

Your brother said you’re supposed to be nice to your soulmate, so nice is how you’ll be.

You’re not expecting a reply, but you have nothing else to do but sit here in the dark and stare at your arm. You’re technically supposed to be asleep, but you’re not tired yet. You’re never tired at bedtime. You’ve told your brother this before, but he never listens to you about it and makes you go to bed anyway. You guess that’s just the way brothers are.

Surprisingly, there’s something new on your arm.

For a minute, that seemed to be the end of your conversation with your soulmate. Something about that didn’t sit well with you, though. You don’t know if you really meant it or if you were just looking for an excuse to stay up later, but either way a plan hatched in your brain.

You sit here and wait, and you’re starting to get kind of tired. It doesn’t seem like your soulmate’s going to reply. Maybe they’re asleep. It’s probably bedtime for them, too, wherever they are. Maybe they don’t want to be friends

You’re starting to drift, but just as your vision begins to blur you see some more smudged up gray appear on your arm.

You smile. You’re friends with your soulmate now. Cool.

You go to sleep.

For the next four years, you and your soulmate talk practically everyday. A couple things have changed since you had your first conversation with them. For instance, you can now fit an entire conversation on your arm if you write small enough, and you can spell the majority of words you use correctly. Other than that, everything’s basically the same.

You’re playing video games at your house with your friends. You’re generally pretty good at this shit, but today’s an off day. Probably because you stayed up all night watching movies right before and haven’t gotten a wink of sleep since. You drag yourself to the kitchen to get yourself some apple juice while you can.

You’re poking a straw into your juice box when Rose comes in and joins you.

“Do you have snacks, Dave?” She asks, poking her head through your cupboards.

“We have chips in there somewhere, I think.” You say. “Juice box?”

“Yes, please.”

You toss her a juice box, which she catches easily. You can see a flash of green on her arm.

“What’s that?”

“What, this?” She points at the green on her arm. It looks like marker, which is strange because it’s not like Rose to draw on herself. “I told Kanaya I was going to try to kick some butt in a casual video game showdown between friends today, so she decided to send me a little good luck charm.”

“Kanaya?”

“My soulmate, Dave.” Rose rolls her eyes and goes back to rummaging through the cupboards for chips. “Did I not tell you about her?”

“No, I knew about her, I just didn’t know what her name was.” You shrug. You also didn’t know Rose’s soulmate was a girl until just now.

“Well, as I said, her name is Kanaya.” She pulls a bag of Doritos out from the very back of the cupboard. “She’s very sweet. I think you would like her.”

“Yeah, I probably would. Any soulmate of my friend’s is a friend of mine.”

“I hope that’s true.” She tears the bag open. “I’m also hoping the same for yours if we ever have the chance to meet. Remind me, what was their name again?”

You glance at the doodle on Rose’s arm. You only just now realize it’s a little green heart. “I don’t know.”

You’ve been talking to your soulmate a lot these past couple years, and yet somehow you never bothered to ask for their name. Of course, this isn’t all on you, they never asked for yours either. Still, now that Rose mentions it while flaunting the fact that she knows her soulmate’s name, it does seem weird that you don’t know it. That definitely seems like something you should know.

“That’s fine.” Rose says with a shrug. “Tell me when you do know their name. That’ll make it a lot easier to talk about them to each other.”

She takes her juice and bag of chips back into the other room before you can say anything more about it. You follow her back in and don’t say anything more about it.

After a few more rounds where you managed to redeem yourself by handing everybody their ass like it’s going out of style (which it’s not), you resign yourself to asking the big, awkward question once all of your friends leave.

When they do finally leave (they stayed a lot longer than you thought, which was awesome) you end up sitting on your couch with a pen in your hand, the tip pressed into the bare skin of your arm. You’ve been talking to your soulmate for so long, you feel like an idiot for having to ask a question like this. You sigh to yourself and start writing small so you can fit as much of a conversation as you can on your arm.

You sit there and wait for them to give you the go ahead to ask. They don’t respond, so you take it as an okay to continue.

You really don’t want to, but you know you’re going to have to get this awkward question out of the way eventually. You may as well do it now.

You wait patiently. Part of you is really worried about the possibility of having already exchanged names. There’s a chance that you did it years earlier but forgot. If that’s the case and they remember your name, you’re really gonna feel awful about this. You watch as a four letter word is scrawled in big messy letters on your arm.

You pull off your sock and hunch over your foot. Feet are a weird surface to write on, and you usually try not to write on them, but it’s a lot easier than writing on your leg when you’re wearing pants. You start writing in smaller, cramped letters so you can write as much as possible.

So your soulmate’s name is Karkat. It’s a weird name and you’ve never heard it before, but it feels fitting somehow. You don’t know why that is, probably because of some dumb, impossible to comprehend soulmate stuff. Whatever the reason is, you can’t wait to learn more stuff about your soulmate. Until then, you decide the best course of action is to take a shower. There’s a lot of ink on your skin and you want to get it off of you before your brother gets back home.

After that, you try your best to learn as much about your soulmate as possible without seeming like a weirdo. You learn tons of things about Karkat, like the fact that he loves romantic comedies and spends the entire weekend lazing around on his couch watching them and that he really really loves Will Smith. Mostly Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire. You made fun of him for it once and he wrote all of the lyrics to the theme song out on your arm, and then the lyrics to the Alternian equivalent, Thresh Prince.

It took you longer than you’d like to admit to figure out that Karkat’s a troll. You’ve only known a few trolls in your life and so far they’ve all seemed pretty chill, if a little on the weird side, so it was actually pretty cool to learn that your soulmate is one. You asked him to teach you how to write in Alternian once because you knew the letters were a lot different than the ones in English. He used your interest to take revenge and scribble the Alternian alphabet all over you just like you did the first time you’d talked to him. After he was finished with that he did take the time to show you how to write your name.

Other than those bits of information, you haven’t really learned a lot of relevant things about him. You have no idea how old he is, where he lives, or what the fuck his favorite color is (that’s not really important, but he mentioned it as one of the basic things to learn about a person before and the fact that you still don’t know it is upsetting). It’s an extremely hot day in the summer when you’re twelve that you finally learn some more information about him.

You run out of room on your thigh, so you move down your leg a little more.

You’re getting too fucking hot laying on this couch with a fan blowing hot air back at your face. You get up and walk over to the kitchen to get a popsicle. Maybe that will help cool you down some.

Fuck, you want to stick your head in the freezer. It’s so hard to resist the urge. You grab the popsicle and trudge back over to the couch, sitting upside down with your legs propped up over the back. Your legs are so slick with sweat you could rub the ink right off with your shirt if you really wanted to. You check if Karkat said anything while you were on your popsicle run. He didn’t.

You bring your leg down and scrawl across your calf.

You’d never expected Karkat to live someplace other than Alternia, since he’s a troll. The more you think about it, the more you realize what a stupid assumption that really was. Not a lot of trolls live on Alternia anymore, and if he did live on Alternia, why the fuck would he know English?

Who knows, maybe he’s close. A guy can hope, right?

Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You switch legs, which was probably for the best because the one you were writing on was starting to cramp up a bit.

You start drawing the shittiest but most accurate self portrait on your arm that you can. It’s a lot more difficult than you thought it would be because your arms are even more sweaty than your legs and the ink keeps accidentally rubbing off of your skin. On top of that, you haven’t finished your popsicle and you’re trying your hardest to keep it from dripping on your shorts. Eventually you give up and just shove the stupid thing in your mouth.

It takes you a long time to finish it, and when you’re done you’re certain it’s the worst thing you’ve ever drawn in your entire fucking life. You hope Karkat doesn’t mind. Hey, at least it kinda looks like you.

You take your pen to your right arm and try to write as neatly as you can.

You get up and run to the bathroom so you can get the best look at Karkat’s drawing as you possibly can. You can’t stop laughing at it as soon as you see it. It’s…it’s so fucking bad. You couldn’t draw anything this bad no matter how hard you tried.

You run out of the bathroom to go get your camera and throw away your popsicle stick on your way back to the bathroom. You snap several pictures, all of them are perfect and awful. This is probably the best thing you’ve ever gotten from Karkat. You put down your camera and pick your pen back up.

You wait a long time, a lot longer than you thought it would take given the fact that he lives in the same god damn state. But no, for some reason it seemed pretty much fucking impossible for you to find the time to actually go and meet with Karkat. He’s not even a full day’s drive away from you there in Amarillo, and yet you haven’t gotten any closer to meeting him than when you thought he lived an entire planet away.

It’s really frustrating, especially with everybody around you growing closer and closer to meeting their soulmates and making future plans with them once you reached high school. Fuck, Rose’s soulmate lived in New York and even she got to meet her before you got anywhere close to meeting Karkat.

You’re gritting your teeth and lamenting this fact while doing (or pretending to do) your homework when you see something written on your arm in gray. Wow, think of the devil.

You get back to your homework and contemplate about what you’re going to do with Karkat once he gets everything figured out with his move.

You can’t believe this is happening. You’re finally going to meet him. You’re finally going to meet your soulmate!

Two weeks pass by without word from Karkat. You wonder if he’s okay, but you chalk up his silence to the fact that he probably just jumped the gun with the whole telling you he would contact you once he was finished moving.

You’re brushing your teeth when you see something scrawled on the back of your arm. It sends a jolt through your chest. Karkat writing to you means he must have gotten himself settled in. Or that he’s at least in town now. You finish brushing your teeth and stare down at your arm.

You doodle something really quick on your finger and start washing the conversation off your arm. You manage to get most of it off by the time Karkat responds.

It takes you a couple more minutes to wash most of the ink off of your arm. It’s still there, slightly visible on your skin. You have to give up or you’ll be late for school. Maybe today is a sweatshirt day.

You don’t hear from Karkat for the next couple days, which is totally fine since you figure he’s still trying to figure everything out with school and his new house and all that shit. Whatever’s going on with him, you hope he’s having an okay time and that you can finally meet him sometime soon.

John is leaning against a wall outside the school, which is unusual for him because usually he just leaves with his dad as soon as he can. You don’t have anywhere you need to be, so you walk over and join him.

“Hey, whatcha doing?” You ask, sliding down the wall to sit down on the grass. You don’t feel like standing around.

“Hey, Dave!” He looks down at you and grins. “I’m just waiting for a friend to get here.”

“Okay.” That’s not all that surprising. John’s pretty good at making friends. “Mind if I wait with you?”

“That’s fine, this is going to get boring if he takes too long.” John replies with a shrug. “I hope he gets here soon.”

You wait with John and talk about movies and video games and shit, nothing really particularly important. It’s fifteen minutes before John’s friend finally shows up. You realize when you see him trudging over to you from the parking lot and not from the building that he probably goes to a different school.

He takes his sweet time walking over, which is sort of annoying because he made John wait fifteen fucking minutes, the least he could do was try to hurry his ass up. Eventually, he does reach the both of you.

“Hey,” John is completely too energetic for a kid who just got out of a long day of school, “I was starting to wonder where you were.”

“Sorry,” this new kid says, sounding not sorry at all and looking exactly how you feel after a long day of school, “I got lost on my way over here.”

This new guy runs a hand through his hair, and you can just barely see his horns peeking out from under what looks like a tangled mess. Whoever he is, he looks exhausted and annoyed. He’s not annoyed at anything in particular, but you can see him trying to direct his annoyance somewhere.

“Can we go now?” He asks agitatedly.

“Yeah, sure.” John stoops to pick up his backpack off the ground. “Before we go, did you want to meet my friend? This is-”

“Listen, John, I don’t give a fuck who your friend is.” He interrupts. “I’m sure he’s fine or whatever, but I’m just not in the mood to waste my energy on being genial to new people I couldn’t give less of a shit about.”

“Geez, okay. A simple no would have been fine.” John says, slinging his backpack onto one shoulder and rolling his eyes.

“Of course, but it wouldn’t have gotten my point across. Now are we going or not?”

“Yeah, we’re going. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you.” The troll kid rolls his eyes and starts walking away. John takes the opportunity to turn to you. “Sorry. He’s an okay guy once you get used to him.”

You nod. “I’m sure he is.”

John runs off to catch up with his friend, and you shuffle on back home. A few hours later, you find a message from Karkat written on your hand.

Your heart skips a beat. This must be the moment you were waiting for.

You cover pretty much every available visible piece of skin on your body with ideas of what to do this weekend before you and Karkat both settle on this little cafe that you’re both familiar with. It seems like the best option. It’s small, quiet, and you and Karkat could talk for hours over drinks and get to know each other better. It has that perfect, completely cliche first date kind of feel.

The week drags on pretty slow after that, but it passes and the weekend finally hits. It’s Saturday, and you’re both excited and a little nervous about meeting Karkat for the first time. You’re going to finally hear your soulmate’s voice, see his face, actually hold a real conversation with him. That’s insane. It doesn’t seem real. How the fuck do people deal with this?

You arrive at the cafe a half hour earlier than when you were scheduled to meet. You figured if you stayed at home you might manage to talk yourself out of doing this and end up ditching him accidentally. You order a drink and take a seat at the first open area you find

Fifteen minutes of nursing your drink in your hands later, you see someone you recognize walk in. John’s new troll friend with the little horns and the annoyed face. He walks up, orders something, and takes a seat close to the door. Apparently he’s also waiting for somebody.

After twenty minutes and a refill on your drink later, you start to wonder where Karkat is. He was supposed to get here ten minutes ago. He’s still new in town, maybe he got lost. Houston was big, it could happen pretty easily.

You doubted that was the case, though.

You give Karkat the benefit of doubt and another twenty minutes before you seriously start to consider the fact that he might not be coming, after all. It was a disappointing prospect, but it’s not like you didn’t get it. You’d almost thought about flaking yourself.

If that was what happened, you would try to be as understanding as possible and maybe take a raincheck on the whole meeting in person thing. Maybe it would have been better to start slow with this. Exchange phone numbers and email addresses and shit, contact each other through more than just skin.

Speaking of possibly being ditched, the troll up front doesn’t seem to be having much luck, either. He’s clearly waiting for someone, he’s been sitting there staring at the door for almost a full hour. Honestly, you probably wouldn’t give a shit about it if he didn’t look so fucking sad.

In a spur of the moment show of compassion, you decide to go sit with the guy and keep him company until his friend or whoever the fuck gets here or he realizes they’re not coming.

You slide your cup onto the table and sit down across from him. “You’re John’s friend, right?” He gives you a wary look. “And you’re that asshole from the other day.”

“Hey, if anyone was being an asshole at the time, it was you.” You point out. “I didn’t say two words to you.”

“I can sense an asshole a mile away, and you, sir, are an asshole.“ He crosses his arms over his chest. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I saw you waiting over here and I figured I’d come keep you company until your friend gets here.”

He glares at you. “What makes you think I want your company?”

“Nothing.” You admit with a shrug. “You just looked lonely as shit. I can leave if you’d rather sit here and wait by yourself.”

At first he looks like he’s going to say something snarky in return, but then the concept of waiting here even longer by himself hits him. He glances down at his watch, his shoulders sagging slightly at all the time that’s passed. “You can stay, but you better not piss me off.”

You nod. “I’ll try my best, but no promises.”

Your conversation starts out awkward, you have no idea what to talk about and the person you’re sitting with isn’t being much help since he refuses to tell you anything about himself. You’re forced to carry the first couple minutes of the conversation on your own, but once you offhandedly mentioned Dane Cook, the guy wouldn’t shut up and the conversation only grew from there. You talked about a lot of shit, most of it was really stupid, but it was all pretty fun. You could understand why John was friends with this guy, he does seem like a genuinely okay guy once you got to know him a little bit, and on top of that he was pretty funny, you don’t think you’ve laughed this hard in months.

As much fun as you’re having, though, it’s pretty clear this guy’s still distracted. He keeps glancing at his watch or at the door, still waiting for whoever it is to show up. With every minute that passes, it becomes clearer to you that his friend just isn’t gonna show, which fucking sucks. But hey, what else can you do besides wait it out with him?

It’s another twenty minutes before he calls it quits.

“Listen,” he says as he stands, “this has been great and all, but I think I’m going to fuck off while I still have a shred of dignity left intact.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” You nod. “I’ll see you around.”

He pushes his chair in and heads out the door, the bell chiming behind him as he exits. You’re working on your third drink now and feeling way too over caffeinated for your own good. This is going to be your last one and then you’re going to head on home.

You don’t have time to even take another sip of your drink and feel lonely at your now empty table when Karkat finally messages you with what you’re expecting to be an explanation of his absence.

It’s not.

What the fuck? Was he here while you weren’t paying attention? If he was waiting for an hour, then he only just left.

Wait.

It couldn’t be…

You run out of the cafe, hoping you can get to him quickly. John’s friend-Karkat-hasn’t gotten far.

“Karkat!” You yell as you run over to him.

He jumps and turns around. He looks confused when he sees you. “Dave?”

You stop and try to catch your breath. “Hey.”

He squints at you suspiciously. “How do I know it’s really you?”

You could easily roll up your sleeve and show him your most recent conversation with him, but you choose instead to go a different route. You draw a smiley face on your finger.

It shows up simultaneously on Karkat’s finger, and he smirks at it. “You’re an even bigger dork in person.”

“And you’re a lot smaller in person.”

He snorts. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“My dick is definitely bigger than your horns.”

It takes him a minute to realize what the fuck you’re talking about, but when it finally hits him he bursts out laughing. “I can’t fucking believe this. You’re still on that? Dave, that was four years ago!”

“Of course I’m still on that. Size matters, Karkat!” You reply insistently. “Now hey, where are you heading off to? Maybe I could tag along and we could try this thing over again.”

Karkat shakes his head. “I was just going back to my hive. I have some homework and more unpacking to do. I’m almost done but not yet. You can walk me back if you want to.”

Karkat offers you his arm, and you accept it. “I’d be glad to.”

You walk with your arms linked over to Karkat’s hive. You chat this time, too, but this time it’s a more personal, in depth discussion. You don’t talk as much this time as you did back in the cafe, now that you know that the boy with you is Karkat, all you want to do is listen to him talk and watch his face and his hand gestures. He’s a lot more expressive than you’d imagined and it’s honestly amazing to look at. You’ve been waiting to see this your entire life, or at least since you were six. You make it to his place a lot sooner than you would have hoped, so you walk him all the way over to his door.

Karkat takes his arm back but doesn’t go inside. He clearly doesn’t want to end your discussion so soon. He looks at his door for a long time and runs a hand through his hair.

He turns back to you and offers an apologetic shrug. “I’d invite you inside, but so far it looks like the results of a tornado colliding with a junk yard and my lusus would be furious with me if I let anyone see the level of shit we’ve been wading in.”

You nod. You honestly wouldn’t give a shit if he lived in a literal pig sty, you just want to spend more time with him and talk some more. From Karkat’s face you can tell he also would have preferred that. It’s too late for that now, you already walked him home. You’re both just hovering awkwardly at his door.

“We’re going to have to do this again sometime.” You finally say. “Sometime soon.”

“Yeah, especially now that we know what we both look like in comparison to those fucked up self portraits we drew.”

“Hey, fuck you, I really liked those! I still have that picture of yours I took.”

Karkat raises an eyebrow. “You actually took a picture of that shit? I thought you were kidding!”

“Nope. One hundred percent bona fide not kidding. Maybe I’ll bring it and show you next time.”

“Oh god, it’s probably even uglier than I remember.”

“Nonsense, it’s beautiful.”

Karkat’s about to make a rebuttal, probably about you cramming your fake ass compliments in some bodily orifice when there’s a loud noise from his hive. “I’ll be there in a minute, hold your fucking hoofbeasts!” He snaps back at the noise. He turns back around to you. “I should probably get inside, my lusus is throwing a fit.”

“Yeah. We’ll do this again sometime.” You reply. “I’ll talk to you later, Karkat.”

You start to walk away, but he grabs your hand before you have the chance to get very far. “Wait.”

You stand there and watch as Karkat takes a pen out of his back pocket while still holding tightly onto your hand. He rolls up your sleeve and starts writing on your arm. You try to read while he’s writing out of curiosity, but your view is blocked. When he’s finished writing on your arm, he brings your hand closer to his face and starts drawing on your finger. You have no idea what the fuck he’s doing. You take the opportunity to read your arm.

“Karkat, what the fuck is this?”

“My phone number.” He answers bluntly. “We can talk a lot easier and a lot longer on a phone than we could with this writing on ourselves shit. And I kind of like the way your voice sounds, so.” Karkat shrugs and lets go of your hand.

You take a look at your finger to see what he drew and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a little gray smiley face with two dots above it that you think are supposed to be his horns. “Holy shit, you fucking copycat.”

“Hey, fuck off, this is an entirely original character design!” Karkat says, poking you in the chest. “That’s a tiny Karkat to keep you company until we see each other again.”

“Oh my god, you unoriginal dweeb.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

“You’re right, I do.” You admit immediately. “Thanks. I’m never washing this hand again.”

Karkat wrinkles his nose. “Please, for the love of fuck, continue washing your hands. I don’t want to have to feel responsible for whatever bacteria starts eating the flesh off of the petri dish you call a palm.”

There’s yet another noise from inside his hive. You wonder what kind of monster thing his lusus is. You’ve never met one before, but you know most of them resemble giant, more terrifying versions of Earth creatures. You can’t tell what kind of animal noise this is, it’s one that’s completely foreign to you.

“I have to go.” Karkat sighs. “I’ll see you later, Dave.”

“Yeah, see you.” You start going your separate ways. “I’ll call you.”

“Oh, you fucking better.” Karkat yells back to you as he closes the door.

You start walking home. You’re almost back at the cafe when it occurs to you that you should probably put his number into your phone. You roll up your sleeve. There’s something new written on your arm.

You probably look like an idiot smiling down at your arm like this, but you don’t give a shit.

You’re going to leave it at that, but a thought crosses your mind while your typing his number into your phone.

#really long post #dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #fanfic #soulmate au #it's that one where what you write on yourself appears on your soulmate #first for those fic requests #i'm sorry this took so long #and that parts of it are messed up #but i hope you liked it anyway #i had a lot of fun writing this #my fanfiction #fic request #yo it's a fic and I wrote it

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charlieism · 7 years

Text

Of Ink Stains and Love Notes

So I’m a few days late in posting this but!! I hit 400 followers, what the heck?? Thank you so much!! I decided to write a pretty long (around 5000 words), fluffy fic to celebrate haha. It’s a Prinxiety one, of course :) thanks to @use-it-ironically for letting me yell ideas at them until I get inspired and to @princeyandanxiety for telling me to write it because otherwise I would still be procrastinating rn. Also tagging @lekawaiimelon and @mylasagnaisraw :)

Everyone has a soulmate. Almost everyone finds their soulmate and forms a relationship with them, be it romantic or platonic. Some people have the link, an anomaly in which anything that is written, drawn, or doodled onto one person's skin will appear on their soulmate's skin, in the exact same place. Roman has the link.

Or at least, he likes to believe he does.

****

To be honest, he isn't really sure. He imagines that he is one of the special people, one with the strongest bond to his soulmate. To the person he is destined for, to love and cherish forever. The one who Roman will 'just click with.' The one who will love him and understand him, the one Roman is perfect for. What a glorious idea! The idea of a soulmate is something Roman has fantasised about forever. He's tried to imagine what his soulmate will look like, but it always changes. He's dreamed of their meeting, he's imagined the first time his soulmate's writing will appear on his skin, he's dreamt about the feeling of meeting someone who's soul, who's very being is so perfectly suited for Roman, and he is always filled with a feeling of awe. That one day, he will meet someone who he is perfect for.

Only problem is, it can't come quick enough.

****

Roman has been writing and drawing on himself since as long as he was able. At the beginning, before he knew how to read or write, before he knew how to draw so you could decipher what the picture showed, he would just grab marker pens of pretty colours and scribble up and down his arms in lines and patterns.

No new ones ever showed up.

Then, when he learnt to read and write, he began by writing tiny little things, like 'hi' or 'I'm Roman', then went on to write long messages or start conversations that nobody ever replied to.

And when he learned to draw, well, it fast became one of his favourite things to do. To pick the colours he knew went well together, to decide what pattern or drawing he wanted to create, to press the cool pen tip to his skin and let the lines flow freely, springing from his imagination onto his skin (and hopefully somebody else's skin too.)

And for years, nobody replied. No new writing appeared on his skin, nobody's handwriting but his own, nobody's artistic creations and doodles but the ones he drew himself. But Roman never let it get him down; there were stories everywhere about soulmates who didn't meet for years, about links that didn't start up for a long time. It was common knowledge that no link started from birth; many took years to activate. Roman just couldn't wait! He wanted to feel the tingle of somebody else's drawings coming through to him. He wanted to see the writing appear. It simply couldn't come quick enough.

****

A few years on, and Roman had a routine. He would wake up, eat breakfast, get ready for the day, snatch up a pen and doodle something quick on his wrist. Be it a 'Hello!' or a 'Good morning!" Or simply a quick drawing of a flower, he never failed to add something daily. And it wasn't that he had lost hope, no, Roman would never do that. It wasn't that he though he didn't have a link; he did! He knew he did. He couldn't explain it, he could just feel it. It was simply that his soulmate had never replied, that their link hadn't started yet, so he didn't pay much attention to the quick drawing of a crown he had just doodled. He didn't think the link would be activated suddenly, and so his soulmate was at the back of his mind.

****

Later in the day, Roman was lying in the park with his best friend Patton. Patton, aka Morality, aka Dad, (he was the Dad friend and had an unabashed love of dad jokes) was sitting in the shade of a tree as the hot beams of sunlight shone down onto the ground. He was trying to make the longest daisy chain ever, and then trying to make it a necklace for Roman. Roman was lying on his stomach, kicking his legs absently, sketching in his sketchbook. He was trying to draw a rose (how terribly cliche, he knows), but his right arm had started itching a few minutes ago and it was driving him mad. It was like a strangely strong mix of itching, and tingling. Like a frustrating case of pins and needles. Roman was determinedly trying to ignore it, but the tingling was annoyingly persistent, and finally with an agitated groan Prince shot his hand out and rubbed his wrist, glaring and frowning in annoyance. When he lifted his hand away and his eyes focused on the wrist, however, Roman's eyes opened comically wide and he gasped in shock, springing backwards into the grass and cradling his arm, staring at it in amazement. For underneath his hastily sketched crown, a tiny drawing of a pair of headphones was slowly appearing on his skin, fading up from nowhere.

****

As soon as Roman glanced at the drawing, the frustrating itching went away and left only a pleasant, magical tingling.

"Holy shit. Holy shit!" He yelped, the full realisation of what just happened hitting him. "P-Patotn! I knew it! I- I knew it! It happened! It's happening! I have it, I knew it! There's someone for me, it's real, it's happening!" He rambled, yelling for his best friend, who immediately scrambled towards Roman. He looked panicked; apparently Roman wasn't doing a very good job of describing what had just taken place.

"Are you okay? Princey? What's wrong?" He asked, eyes full of concern through his glasses. Roman stared in awe at the small doodle scrawled upon his arm. It was evidently just that: a doodle. An absent drawing, right underneath Roman's crown, which meant that Roman's drawing probably hadn't transferred over. So what would he say? What was the first thing on wrote to their soulmate? Or did he just draw? What did he do? Roman couldn't remember a single thing that he had daydreamed about. So, casting one more look to his arm, he thrust it out and presented the drawing to Patton. Patton inspected his friend's arm, then his eyes flew wide open.

"Oh! You didn't draw this! Oh my goodness, Roman, your soulmate!" He squealed, eyes lighting up in excitement. "What are you going to say?" Patton gasped. Roman shrugged helplessly at him.

"I don't know!" He wailed. "They're my soulmate, the one person I'm destined for! It has to be perfect, but I don't know what to do!" He yelled.

"Ok, ok, don't worry! Anything you write will be perfect! Like it's destined to be. Go ahead, just write something, Prince!" Patton urged. Prince took a deep breath.

"Okay. Okay, thanks Morality. Okay." He grasped his black felt, and had a mind blank. He had no idea what he was going to do. So he started off easy.

****

Roman pressed the cool tip of the pen to the base of the crown he had drawn, and traced it carefully. When the crown had a perfect other layer of ink upon it, he wrote a single hesitant message. Prince guessed he was still in shock. In his elegant, loopy handwriting Roman wrote, 'Oh my goodness, I suppose we're soulmates. Hi.' He and Morality waited with bated breaths for the reply, and after a minute quick words appeared atop Prince's skin. The handwriting was small and pretty messy, the angles of letters sharp.

'Holy shit, you're my soulmate. I have the link. Hi.' Roman no longer had a filter, he was just saying the first thing that came to his mind as he traced the sentence scrawled upon his wrist by another hand.

"Eloquent." He mumbled absently. Patton laughed.

"Ask his name, lover boy." He teased. Roman blinked.

"Oh! Of course!" He exclaimed, fumbling for his pen. 'It's nice to finally meet you! (Well, write to you, I suppose.) My name is Roman. Who are you?'

The reply came quickly. 'You can call me Anx. So, Roman, now that we're soulmates I suppose we should know a bit about each other."

And thus it began.

****

The conversation they had, scrawled along arms until there remained no room, letters dropped across knees and sentences rubbed off to make room for new ones. They talked until the sun began to set, at which point Roman was lying with his head in Patton's lap, Morality weaving daisies into his hair and watching the conversation between Roman and Anx flow. They learnt that Anx was a boy, ever so slightly younger than Roman, complete with quick wit and scathing sarcasm, yet undertones of friendliness. Eventually Morality had to snap Prince back to reality.

"Listen, Ro, you gotta go home, it's getting late."

"No, I'm talking to Anx! My soulmate!" Roman sighed dreamily.

"I know, Princey, but why don't you just swap phone numbers? You've run out of places to write on anyway." Patton offered, making Roman jump up in excitement.

"Of course! Thank you, Mo!" He beamed, before hastily writing his phone number in large, loopy letters on his already ink stained skin. Moments later a scribbled number appeared underneath it, followed by a winking face. Prince blushed and Patton cooed teasingly at him.

Later that night, Prince was standing under the warm water spray of his shower, watching sadly as the ink rinsed off his skin and swirled down the drains in pale clouds of black and blue. His first conversation, his first few hours talking with his soulmate, the first few precious facts he now knew about Anx, the beginnings of Roman's crush, gone with the water. It was depressing and suddenly Prince was full of dismay and sadness.

Until, when he stepped out of the shower and got dressed into his pyjamas, his phone dinged. And when he checked it, Anxiety's phone number flashed on the screen. It had only been about half an hour since they talked last, but the thought that Anxiety wanted to talk to him already made Roman's heart flutter.

Heya, Princey. Was the simple message.

Roman smiled.

****

After that, he and Anxiety talked daily, be it by texting or writing. Sometimes they simply drew and smiled at the now familiar tingling sensation. By now, they were dating, even though they hadn't actually met each other yet. It was just the obvious option; they had both developed crushes straight away, and the feelings only bloomed and developed and flowered into something stronger as time went on. Roman, being the romantic sap he was, had been writing Anxiety love letters and notes every morning since they had started dating. Today's one was silly and cheesy and Prince was smiling as he wrote it.

'Anxiety, my love, my sunshine, my chemically imbalanced romance, my darkly dressed wonder, my Disney prince, my angel, you're looking adorable today! You look so cute, especially stunning, absolutely ravishing, you beautiful, magnificent creature. Also, don't forget I love you!' He could practically see Anx's blush (although he'd never actually seen Anxiety; he was too shy and, well, anxious to send a selfie, But that was okay, Roman didn't care about what Anx looked like. He already loved him.) A moment later, the words faded a bit like Anx had halfheartedly attempted to rub them off. Prince grinned.

Shut up, you idiot. Was Anxiety's reply. And then, scrawled underneath that, I love you too. It was a Saturday, so Roman just lounged around the house, talking to his soulmate for a bit (sometimes he still couldn't believe he was lucky enough to have Anxiety as his soulmate.)

It was barely an hour later, when Anxiety sent him a short message so abruptly and unexpectedly that it made Roman fall off the couch.

I want to meet you.

****

He stared at the message in shock, excitement and happiness bubbling up and surging through him, making a beaming smile leap out onto Roman's face. He had been waiting for this! He'd been wanting to meet Anxiety for weeks, but he hadn't wanted to pressure him into anything's he wasn't comfortable with. And now Anxiety finally trusted Prince enough to meet him! Yes! When he realised he still had to reply, he scrambled desperately for the pen he had accidentally thrown at the wall as he fell. He basically jammed the marker against his skin, writing the words as fast as humanely possible.

Oh my goodness are you being serious??? Yesyesyes!!!!I I would love to meet you in real life!!! Glancing back over the extreme reaction, Roman was suddenly worried he'd overwhelmed Anxiety. Thankfully, his boyfriend's reply came quick.

'Lol calm down pretty boy. Um so hey if we're doing this, I remember we talked about this place a while ago, there's that park a while away from both of our houses?' And then 'btw, im really excited too.'

That made Roman smile fondly at his own wrist. But yes, he knew the park. It had been the source of some of their conversations, being the place that Prince was in when the link started working and the place Anx used to love going to as a kid. It would be the perfect place to meet; it was now officially Prince's dream meeting spot.

It didn't take long for them to organise the meeting, The park was pretty close to both of their houses, and it wasn't too big, which meant they should be able to find each other pretty easily. Now, Roman had to get ready!

****

He put a simple white shirt on and his favourite white, red and gold jacket, and dark skinny jeans (that he knew made his legs looks great). He styled his hair until it was impeccable and checked his face in the mirror, and sprayed some deodorant on himself. Then he took a few deep breaths while looking in the mirror, gave himself a quick pep talk because jeez, he was about to meet his actual soulmate! And then, before he knew it, Roman was walking out his door and down the road.

****

When Prince arrived at the park, he looked around but couldn't see anyone who looked his age. There only seemed to be adults or little kids milling about. Sighing, a bundle of nerves still heavy in his chest and weaving through his ribs, Roman decided to make his way to the tree where he first started talking to Anxiety. It was one of the biggest trees in the park, its sturdy, sweeping branches looping and twisting around each other, the bright emerald leaves fluttering and swaying in the wind, their glossiness reflecting the bright sunlight that shone down upon the earth. Prince wandered up to it, lost in his thoughts and fantasies and wondering about how he was finally going to meet Anxiety!! He was going to meet his soulmate!! That was both exciting and terrifying. He absently lay his hand on the tree trunk, the familiar bark comforting underneath his fingers. He couldn't say how long he lingered there, lost in his own mind, until an oh-so-familiar tingling sensation began emanating from his wrist.

Behind you

****

Anxiety was feeling anxious, but that was only to be expected. He was also more excited than he had ever been before He was about to meet his real life, honest to god, actual soulmate! The guy he'd been talking to for weeks, the one he'd been dating without ever actually seeing his face.

Heck, how was he going to know who Roman was? He had no idea what he looked liked!

Wait, all the cheesy movies said there was some kind of pull, maybe that was a real thing, maybe it would lead him to Prince.

Or maybe it wouldn't.

Maybe he would just see someone with the same writing as him, that way he would know exactly who Roman was!

Or maybe he would never find Roman, ever. Even thought that was incredibly unrealistic as they could just arrange another place to meet. In the end Anx decided to try to ignore the nervousness and focus on his excitement. Even though he'd never actually seen Prince, and Prince hadn't seen him, Anxiety's crush on the dramatic boy was stronger than anything else he'd ever felt. It was almost scary, but it was also feeding a fire of excitement in him with every step closer he took to the park. He was about to meet Roman!

When Anxiety arrived in the park, he was suddenly flooded with emotions and memories from his childhood. He used to come to this park all the time; he had loved to roll down the hills and throw sticks into the creeks and climb the trees. There had always been one tree in particular that was his favourite; it was one of the tallest in the park, and its branches curved and were low enough to clamber upon and sit on. Anxiety took a quick look around him, in case he suddenly saw his soulmate, but he felt nothing. There were only a few adults stretching in the bright sunshine and some kids running around and laughing.

Well, he had no better plan. He might as well head to his favourite tree.

****

Anxiety climbed up the grassy hill the tree grew on top of, steadily ignoring the heat beating down on him. He looked good in black, so he was willing to suffer. He was strangely excited about going to the tree, but he pinned it down to just being happy about childhood memories. Running a hand through his dark floppy hair, Anxiety took the last step up the hill and looked towards the tree, then froze.

A guy was leaning against the tree, one hand resting on the bark, his back to Anxiety. He looked like he was staring off into space, daydreaming. He was tall and lean, but looked strong at the same time. The dark jeans he was wearing made this guy's legs look great. He was wearing a white, red and gold jacket, and had neat, light brown hair. Anxiety couldn't see his face, but just judging from the back of him he was attractive. Like, really fricking hot.

And then Anxiety saw the back of the man's hand.

****

Drawn on the back was a large, elegant, looping infinity sign that merged seamlessly with Roman's loopy handwriting, spelling out the word love then flowing back into the infinity sign. The word love then had a thin line crossed though it, with the word pizza written in a messy scrawl underneath. Anxiety knew all the details about the silly little drawing, because he had the same thing formed on his own hand.

Which meant... that this was Roman.

Holy shit.

Holy shit!

This guy was his soulmate?? This was Roman?? He was Anxiety's boyfriend?? How the fuck had Anxiety gotten so lucky? What kind of flaw in the universe's system had gifted him with this guy? He didn't really know what to do. He didn't know what he wanted to say.

So he decided not to say anything, and to simply write. So he took the pen out of his hoodie pocket, looked for a space between the drawings and words and ink stains that already dotted his skin, and wrote Behind you.

Anxiety watched nervously as the ink dried on his skin, and watched the words fade up onto Roman's own skin. It was so strange to see something that he wrote appear on someone else's skin. Anx was full of apprehension as he watched Prince look at his arm in surprise, then stiffen.

Then slowly, slowly, Roman turned around.

All the breath whooshed out of Anxiety's lungs as their eyes met.

****

Behind you. Two words, that probably shouldn't hold so much meaning. How could two words possibly hold how important the meaning behind them was? How could two small words create so much feeling and emotion within Roman?

Behind you. He was about to see Anxiety, he was about to see his soulmate for the first time. All he had to do was turn around.

He was suddenly full of nerves, but he had to face his fear. There was no use waiting any longer! So Roman turned around, looked behind him, saw his soulmate, and promptly forgot how to breathe.

****

Eyes. The first thing he noticed were Anxiety's eyes; they were wide and stunned, their colour a beautiful hazel. It was an delightful swirl of shining emerald green and deep brown, complete with flecks of gold twinkling in the sunlight. They were rimmed in expertly applied dark eyeliner, that brought out the colour beautifully.

The next thing he noticed was, well, everything. Anxiety had skin like snow, clear and pale, and he had a light dusting of cute little freckles. His hair was a brown so dark it was almost black, and it flopped over Anxiety's face and eyes slightly. It looked so soft and smooth that Roman had the sudden urge to run his hands through it. He was wearing a large, soft looking hoodie and black jeans, and he was shorter than Prince! It was adorable! Anxiety in general was adorable. And beautiful. And hot. And exquisite and amazing and really good looking and heavenly and stunning and holy shit how did Roman get so lucky?! He must have been blessed.

Roman found himself moving closer, steps clumsy and stunned. Prince knew his expression was probably comical, he could imagine that it was full of awe and adoration and shock. Prince was relieved to see that Anxiety was drifting towards him too, his expression equally as awe filled and stunned, hazel eyes wide.

This was Roman's soulmate! And he was more perfect than he could have ever imagined.

****

Anxiety was in awe. This was his soulmate! He just wanted to stand there and gaze at Roman forever.

His boyfriend's skin was smooth and tanned, and was Roman blushing slightly? There was a dusting of pale pink adorning Prince's face as he stared at Anxiety. And holy shit, that was probably the most adorable thing Anx had ever seen. Wait, no, Roman in general was the most adorable/hot/attractive thing Anxiety had ever laid eyes upon.

His eyes were a warm chocolate colour, that shone with kindness. Prince's twinkled and sparkled in the light, and Anxiety felt like he could gaze into them all day. Roman's hair was a light, chestnut brown, styled immaculately bar a few fluffy strands being ruffled by the breeze. He was tall, taller than Anxiety, and slim, but still muscular. His jeans clung to his legs and showed them off in the best way possible, and he was wearing a simple white shirt underneath the soft looking jacket. Suddenly Roman was far closer to him, and Anxiety realised they had both been stumbling closer to each other, and then they were meeting in the middle and holy shit this was his soulmate.

****

Anxiety's breath caught in his throat as he and Roman stared at each other, drinking each other in, their expressions mirroring each other in terms of awe, affection and shock. Then Roman blinked and slowly his hand came up to cup Anxiety's face. The touch was gentle and fleeting, light as a feather.

"I know I said you were magnificent before, but... you truly do exceed even my expectations. You're exquisite. More stunning than I ever imagined, than I ever dreamed you would be." Roman breathed, eyes roaming over Anxiety's face. Anx could feel himself blushing, but this was the first time he had heard Prince's voice, and he could listen to it all day. It was velvety smooth, rolling and eloquent, and Anxiety's new favourite sound.

"I-I'm not that cute." He automatically stammered. Roman looked genuinely shocked.

"Nonsense! You're the most beautiful human I've ever seen. You're truly gorgeous." There was so much sincerity in his words it took Anxiety's breath away. Again. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't good with words, not like Prince was.

"You're not bad yourself." Was the first thing that came to his mind, and therefore the first thing he said. "Wait, no, scrap that. You're so fucking good looking, what the heck?" Anxiety's hands absently reached up and gently touched Roman's hair. It was really soft. Roman blushed and smiled.

"Glad you like what you see." Anxiety rolled his eyes, but Prince was still smiling and now he was too.

"Lucky you, I really do." He giggled. Roman's smile got even brighter, and it was adorable, and suddenly Anxiety was looping his arms around Prince's neck and pulling him into a crushing hug because he just- he needed to be closer to his soulmate. The urge was irresistible.

****

Roman responded almost immediately, his arms wrapping around Anxiety's waist and pulling him closer, and Anxiety had his head buried in the crook of Prince's neck and Roman's chin was resting on top of Anx's head and he felt so safe and happy and something else, a feeling that was indescribable. It was like there had been a piece of Anxiety missing all his life and now he finally had it, like the last piece of a jigsaw had just been fitted in, like something clicked inside him and suddenly Anxiety was so happy he could barely contain it. Roman was warm and strong, and his jacket was soft, and he smelt really nice, like vanilla and deodorant and it was all so perfect it was making Anxiety's head spin. Their chests were pressed tightly together, and Anxiety felt Roman relax completely against him. He subconsciously did the same, the bubbly feeling of bliss as he hugged his soulmate residing slightly and leaving him smiling like an idiot against Prince's shoulder.

****

Eventually they separated, standing back and smiling at each other, before deciding to leave the park and wader around the city. They walked around holding hands all day, their little adventures including showing each other their favourite places (the library, the theatre, that one cafe), exchanging stories and facts, talking about their friends Logan and Patton, Prince buying them both ice cream and taking countless cute, cheesy, couple-y selfies and posting them on every social media he owned. Patton, of course, liked and screamed about every single picture.

****

However, every day has to come to an end. So as the sun began to sink down below the horizon, and the flames of sunset's light grew and shone in bright colours through the sky, illuminating clouds and painting the sky a vibrant masterpiece, Roman and Anx made their way back to the park they met in. They walked so close together their shoulders bumped, hands held tightly and fingers laced together. They were silent for the first time all day, each enjoying their soulmate's presence for the last few moments that day. Each slowly growing sadder as they realised they had to part ways again soon. When they reached the park, they each lingered and held hands for a while longer, looking at each other sadly. Eventually Anxiety couldn't bear the silence anymore, but he didn't know what he wanted to say, and he didn't want to leave. What did he want to do?

"Do you wanna climb the tree?"

****

Roman looked at Anxiety in confusion, which quickly cleared up when Anxiety gestured with a tilt of his head towards the centre of the park. Prince grinned.

"Sure, I did that all the time when I was a kid."

"So did I! Let's go, Pretty Boy." Anxiety took off, full of childlike excitement again. Roman laughed and chased after him, and together they ran up the hill towards the tree.

"Hey, the branches are pretty high up. Need a boost, shorty?" Roman teased. Anxiety scowled at him.

"Haha, very funny, asshat." Anxiety shot back. Roman placed his hand over his heart in mock offence.

"Rude peasant." He grinned, then moved around Anxiety to climb up the first few branches. He found a branch that dipped in the middle to make the perfect place to sit in, and a second later Anxiety was clambering up and sitting next to him, pressing close to his side. Roman wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gazed out of the tree around the park. The view was great, as they were on the top of a hill. They could see to the very edges of the park, and could see all the leaves of every tree swishing in the gentle breeze. The sun was about to set, and he was sitting in a tree with his soulmate, with Anx, and everything seemed perfect. Roman turned his head to look at his boyfriend, only to see that Anxiety was already gazing at him. Anx looked away when Prince caught him staring, but there was already a tiny, pleased smile dancing across Roman's lips.

"C'mon, we should go soon." Anxiety mumbled after a minute, and began to slide down to the ground. Roman followed just a second later. He jumped down and landed on the soft green grass, running a hand through his hair absently. When he looked up again, however, he was struck breathless again.

The sun was setting, casting beams of golden, orange and pink light to Earth. The rays of light illuminated Anxiety's face like a halo, managing to make him look even more like a true piece of art. He was beautiful, and Roman couldn't stop staring. Eventually Anxiety realised Prince wasn't moving and turned, hazel eyes puzzled, hand brushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He joked.

"I was just thinking that you look really nice." Roman said flippantly, making a pretty pink blush appear around Anxiety's freckles, very noticeable against his pale skin. "And that I really want to kiss you right now." He added shyly. This made Anxiety's head jerk up, and his eyes widen. But then he relaxed, smiled at his soulmate, and said, "Then do it."

****

So as the sun began to sink down below the horizon, and the flames of sunset's light grew and shone in bright colours through the sky, illuminating clouds and painting the sky a vibrant masterpiece, Roman slowly leaned in. He cupped his boyfriend's face shyly, eyes fluttering shut, and gently kissed Anxiety. Anxiety kissed back immediately, equally as gently, and the indescribable feeling of happiness came back. The kiss was sweet and slow, innocent and happy, a perfect first kiss. When they pulled apart the two boyfriends hugged again, Anxiety being short enough to simply bury his face and smile in Prince's shoulder. Roman wrapped his arms around his soulmate's waist, and they stood in the sunset for a minute longer, softly swaying back and forth in peaceful silence, enjoying the sunset and their soulmate's presence. And when they finally parted ways again, both heading to the own homes, it was with a smile on their faces, a pen in their hands, and ink stains littering their skin.

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