#they are doing the tango or at least an attempt is being made :/ can you two hurry up and kiss now 😒 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yacinthemorning · 3 months

Text

A Lesson in Listening

Summary: Grian's brother is moving to town and staying with him while he house hunts. While introducing him to his friend, however, Jimmy and Tango seem to make quite a connection. Determined not to suffer through the pining, Grian and Impulse attempt to play matchmaker.

Ships: Grian & Impulse(Platonic), Jimmy/Tango (Romantic), ZITS (Platonic), Grian & Jimmy (Familial)

Warnings: mild acephobia, verbal fight, sibling bullying, misunderstandings, relationship meddling

If Grian was good at one thing, it was connecting people. Not to be a braggart, but he was a sociable sort who was good at reading people, made new friends with ease, and led the pecking order in his circles. It was his great talent, really. One of many.

“Humility not being among them, clearly.”

“Shush.” Grian hissed, whipping his head around to glare daggers into Impulse. The stout man returned it with his trademark innocent smile, as if Grian didn’t know what went on in the head behind it. “You’re distracting me.”

Impulse chuckled. “What’s there to distract from?”

“I’ll have you know mixing friend groups is a very delicate process!” Grian explained, holding his phone to show the opened notepad doc. “Inviting the wrong person could be the difference between success and disaster.”

“I think you’re overthinking things, G. Anyone who’d get along with you will probably get along with your brother.”

Therein lied the problem, though. Jimmy was nothing like Grian. Okay, well, nothing was a bit of a strong word. Jimmy was extroverted and sociable like Grian, and they both had a fondness for mischief and cats. And maybe Jimmy was the first person Grian always invited to karaoke night when he was in town, because no one else was quite as enthusiastic as they were. But other than that they were nothing alike! For one, unlike Grian, Jimmy was a massive loser.

“That’s a bit rude.”

Grian squawked. “Would you please stop reading my mind!”

“You should stop speaking your mind, then.” Impulse shrugged and returned to scrolling through his phone. Grian had assigned him the task of picking out the venue for the night out, being far more familiar with the town than Grian. He paused, “You might as well monologue, I know you want to.”

“I don’t monologue! I’m not Scar.” Another name was struck out on the list. Doc was angry at him right now, anyways. “I just want things to go well, can I not be excited that Tim is moving closer? I’ve barely got to see him more than once every other month for the past several years! By the way, we can’t-“

“Can’t eat red meat so make sure there’s other options, yeah, I know.” A large hand patted down on Grian’s head, ruffling his hair.

He pouted, falling back into the cushions of his couch. “I feel like you do not appreciate the skill needed to coordinate you people. It’s like herding cats, you know.”

“Why do you think we leave it to you?” Impulse leaned over Grian’s shoulder. “Who you got so far, anyways?”

“You, Scar, Gem, and Cleo. Mostly people he’s met before at least.”

A curious hum filled the air and Grian patiently waited for whatever idea was brewing in Impulse’s head. There were a few taps to his screen, then, “You think Tango can come?”

“Tango?” Grian’s eyebrow quirked up. “Isn’t he hauled up in his basement working on some game right now?” While most certainly a good friend, Tango was one Grian went almost just as long without seeing as his brother half a day’s drive away, despite being a street away. Once he had an idea he would dedicate himself to it until it was done.

Impulse sighed. “Yeah. Zed was able to get him outside for an hour last week, and he went on some business trip for a bit, but he also hasn’t eaten in like two days last I checked. It’d be good excuse to drag him out. He’s gonna forget what real people sound like outside his headphones if we don’t.”

“I honestly don’t know how he expects to survive if he moves out from you guys.”

“I already made him promise to give me a set of spare keys when he does.”

Grian tilted his head as he stared at his last message to the man in question. Something about a crazy idea for a remote-controlled cat toy he thought of. In all honesty it wasn’t the worst idea. Not the cat toy- Tango was a strong personality who left a big impression, but he was always polite. Certainly much more introverted than everyone else going, but not nearly as bad as Zed. At least, when he remembered to leave his basement. It couldn’t do them any harm. At the very worst he could sit in the corner and chatter with Impulse. “Yeah, sure, let’s invite him.” He said, already typing.

Impulse gave a thumbs up. “Tell him we’re gonna go to that barbeque place he loves, that’ll get him.”

“I said-”

“They have plenty of chicken and even vegetarian options, I double checked. It’s right across from the bowling alley, too. And call him, don’t text, or he’ll never see it.”

It was a small miracle Tango agreed to go. It was a small miracle he answered his phone at all. The mention of barbeque worked, though. How much of the rest of the evening they could convince him to stick around for had yet to be seen, but Grian was hopeful he’d stay a little while at least.

Impulse could deal with Tango, though. Right now, Grian had his hands full with Jimmy. They were running ten minutes behind because his poor little brother couldn’t bear going a day without a bubble bath. “C’mon, Tim, get in the car!” He shouted from the window.

Jimmy stumbled in, nearly dropping his phone between the seats in the process. “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying, I just had to send a text. I thought this was supposed to be fun?” He whined. The second his door was closed Grian began driving, not waiting for him to get his seatbelt in. He was so tall and lanky he’d just smash his head through the glass whether he had one on or not, anyways.

“It’s called punctuality, Timmy. Something the hosts should have!”

“Alright, I get it.” He slumped back into his seat, caving as he always did. It must be hard, having an older brother who was always right. Of course, it was much harder being said brother, as Grian could attest.

The car ride was quiet, only the radio filling the space while Grian worked to remember where he needed to go. Jimmy was the first to break the silence, “So, I’ve scheduled some tours for this week.”

Grian hummed. “Anything promising?”

“Actually yeah.” He chirped, pulling out his phone. Before he could shove it in Grian’s face he put his hand up. It’d only been a month since he rear-ended a Toyota, and he’ll be damned if he hit someone else. The last thing his friends needed was to reignite the jokes about him being too short to see over the dashboard. Jimmy made a whine but didn’t try again. “There’s a place not far out of town in the farmlands. It’s small and old, but it’s an actual house with over half an acre.”

“I dunno why you care so much about land. A condo downtown is way better.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? I could have a garden.”

“I guess.” The obnoxiously large sign for the barbeque glared high above the trees and buildings around it just up ahead. “Oh, we’re already here. Should be mostly people you met before, by the way.”

“That’s fine.”

Pulling into the parking lot, Grian could already see Impulse’s minivan and Cleo’s beat up old car. He clicked his tongue as he pulled up next to them. “See! I told you we were late, everyone’s already here.”

“Oh, come off it, they probably just got here, it’s fine.”

It was not fine, the host should always be first, but he wouldn’t expect Jimmy to understand. The two squabbled all the way inside, only stopping to tell the waiter their booking. A nice large table on the patio already had most of Grian’s friends sitting around, still having yet to be served even drinks. Everyone but Tango despite his phone, unmistakable with its Guy Fieri case, on the table. Bathroom, maybe? He was always terrible about going before he left. Scar was the first to spot them. “G! Timmy! You’re here!”

“That we are.” Grian mumbled and turned to Impulse. “Where’s-”

“Hey, Grian, just in time!” The scratchy voice of Tango shouted too-loudly behind them. He saw Jimmy jump, and both brothers swivelled on their heels. Tango jolted back a bit, friendly wave shrinking to his side at the reaction. His eyes grew wide, locking with Jimmy’s which mirrored him like two deer caught in headlights. “Oh!” He squeaked unintentionally.

It jogged Jimmy out of his fright enough to look away, though Grian took suspicious note of the redness of his ears. He gave his baby brother a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t seem to see it.

“Right, well, Tango, Cleo, this is my brother, Ti-”

“It’s Jimmy.” Jimmy jumped in at lightning speed, holding his hand out for Tango to shake with a wide smile. “The name’s Jimmy.” Tango hesitated for a second, before tentatively shaking back with an equally tentative smile.

“Tango, of the Tek variety. Nice to finally meet you.”

“I thought you said your brother was Tim?” Cleo asked.

Impulse scratched at his bread. “Honestly, I thought it was.”

“It’s not, my name’s Jimmy. Don’t trust anything this man says, he’s a menace.” Jimmy huffed, which got far too enthusiastic an agreement from nearly the whole table for Grian’s liking. Behind him, Tango snuck around back to the table. In a baffling move, as far as Grian was concerned, he paused at the empty chair across from his own and pulled it out. He nodded towards Jimmy, who muttered a sheepish thanks. Grian narrowed his eyes at the engineer, but he seemed to be pointedly not looking at him. A shared look from Impulse, though, let him know he wasn’t the only one who took notice.

“Well, then, Jimmy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cleo reached over the table, offering their hand.

Chatter very quickly picked itself up once they were all sat down. Most was directed towards Jimmy, asking what he did and the places he was looking at and how on earth did he get his hair that perfect. It was a bit awkward with him sitting at the end. Given the middle seat where Grian now sat was also empty, he suspected Tango’s little gentleman’s stunt had messed up the seating arrangement Impulse intentionally left.

It wasn’t the last. When their drinks came Tango had ordered some crazy bright red fruity slushy monstrosity like he was on vacation or something. For him it might as well be. Something that brightly coloured, with a fruit skewer at that, was basically tempting the gods as far as Jimmy was concerned, who looked more dazzled by it than the already bright blue drink he ordered. Only a sip had been taken before Tango was nudging it towards him, asking, “Wanna try?” Which he wholeheartedly accepted.

Honestly, between that and the conversation somehow always managing to close into a back and forth between the pair, Grian wanted to gag. Did his brother have absolutely no shame? Or maybe Grian was just bitter he had to order something lighter as their driver. It was at least funny to watch Scar also ask for a sip and be completely ignored.

A large platter was ordered over individual meals. It was just easier, when everyone wanted to try this and that. Astonishingly, it was probably the first time Grian had witnessed Tango eat a vegetable, when he tried one of the skewers the brothers ordered on the side. That was the power of good barbeque, he supposed.

They finally called it after Gem won the third round of bowling in a row. Grian tapped against the open door of his car, glaring holes in the back of his brother’s head, who was too busy saying goodbye to Tango to notice. “Come ooon Tim!” He finally shouted after the third obnoxious little giggle they shared. When he turned, Grian narrowed his eyes. You ain’t subtle. The pair finally said goodbye for real, and Jimmy ran to get in the car before Grian decided to drive off without him. He’d barely gotten his seatbelt on before he was furiously typing something on his phone. Really?

“So, how was it?” Grian asked.

“It was fun, your friends seem cool.” Was the distracted response.

“Mhm…” He leaned closer over his shoulder. “And how was Tango?”

If it was possible to jump out of one’s skin then Jimmy had jumped out of his skin, muscles, and bones. “Huh?” He squeaked, face red and eyes bugged. Grian only returned it with an unimpressed eye roll.

“Oh please. You nearly dropped a bowling ball on your foot while swooning.”

“Well… He’s a cool guy, isn’t he?”

And that shut Grian up. More efficiently than he would like to admit. He expected Jimmy to deny it, or be too flustered to say much of anything. When Grian failed to reply Jimmy went back to his phone, tapping away with a smile. There was that obnoxious giggle again.

This was not one of the issues Grian anticipated having when his brother told him he was moving.

“So, how do we set them up?”

Impulse Hummed, spending far too long reading the contents of a can of cream of mushroom like it wasn’t the same can he always bought. “Who?”

“ Who? ” Grian mocked back. “Tim and Tango!”

“Do we need to?” Three more cans joined the first, before they moved on to the broths. Grian threw the bouillon in the cart before his companion could grab a carton that would languish in the back of his fridge. “They seem to be doing fine on their own.”

“No, trust me. I know Tim. He was literally living with his last boyfriend before he realized they were dating and that he liked him. He’s an idiot.”

“And Tango hasn’t exactly been leaving the basement much lately.” Impulse conceded, grabbing a carton of pho broth anyways. Acceptable, Grian supposed.

“So, then, any ideas?”

They paused before entering the next aisle. The larger man’s face twisted in thought. “Well, we could invite him to D&D, run a oneshot, and have their characters drink a love potion until they get the hint.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea, absolutely not.” He wrote it down in his phone for a future session.

“Another dinner?”

“What are the odds of getting Tango out of the house twice?”

“Probably a lot higher than you’d think with how they were acting.”

“What if I gave Timmy a tour of your house and just locked the basement door behind him?”

“You know I’m starting to think we might be bad at this and should leave it to someone else.”

“Nonsense!” Grian grabbed the first bottle of soya sauce he spotted, much to Impulse’s protests. He wasn’t going to sit and wait for him to match the prices to the ounces. “Look, I know Timmy best, and you know Tango best. Logically, there’s no better pair of heads to crack together for this. They’ll thank us at the wedding.”

A jar of pickled bamboo shoots found its way into the cart beside the biggest bag of basmati rice Impulse could pick up. He had to catch his breath before he continued. “Listen, Grian, do you need to… talk, or something?”

“What?” Grian’s head whipped around from the wall of spices he was mulling over. “About what?”

Impulse hunched his shoulders up, cringing slightly. “I dunno, y’know… You’re planning your brother’s wedding to your friend while picking out my groceries for me. I’m not even sure how you found out I was grocery shopping or found me in the store. I don’t think that’s normal, healthy person behaviour.”

“I am so completely normal and healthy!” He said just a bit too loud.

“You know you can talk to me if you need to.”

This was getting nowhere real fast. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Impulse sighed. “I’ll help.”

“Good. Then, what’s the plan?”

In the end, the plan was little more than ‘wait and see’ with a side sprinkling of putting the pair in as much direct contact as possible. This turned out to be much more work than they anticipated, however. Jimmy had always been a socialite, but he seemed to be gone every other day viewing houses or visiting locations. Meanwhile, Tango did as he does and made himself busy constantly. Every group activity Grian planned was lucky to get even one of them, and he was about to lose his damn mind.

Their big break finally showed itself one evening, when Jimmy dropped in with Grian. Well, it was more like Grian promised to drive him to do some errands and made a left turn away from the mall and directly to the ZITS house instead. A decision Jimmy was not familiar enough with the town yet to notice until it was too late. Just the sound of Jimmy’s voice managed to draw Tango upstairs to see what was going on in his kitchen, where the rest of them were chatting.

Immediately the annoying little giggles started up again. If there was one thing in this world that could make Grian try to keep them apart, it was that giggle.

“By the way, Jimmy,” Skizz piped up from where he leaned against the sink. “You still need a lift tomorrow?”

When had Jimmy found time to befriend Skizz? Who knows. Knowing the two of them they probably bumped into each other on the street and kept talking till the sun went down. Extroverts were so exhausting. (He ignored the little Impulse-ish voice nagging that Grian was also something of an extrovert.)

“Yeah, sorry, I appreciate it.”

“Where you going?” Impulse asked.

“Got another house tour.” Tango of all people replied. Maybe that wasn’t all that surprising, though, given the amount Grian has spotted Jimmy texting the past few days.

“Is that so? Will you be going with them?” Grian teased, but instead got a toothy grin back.

“Yessiree!”

Really? Inviting your crush house hunting? Was that forward or just weird? Either way, it was an opportunity. “You know, Tim, you haven’t invited me to go with you.” He whined, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

Unfortunately, while Jimmy’s talents were sparse, this was one area where he outranked Grian by a factor of magnitudes and had unlocked absolute immunity, or something. “Yeah. That was on purpose.” He said bluntly, not even looking away from Tango, who laughed. In fact, everyone laughed. Even Impulse, the traitor.

Grian wouldn’t give up so easily, however. “Well I think you should. So where is it?”

“What? You’ll just embarrass me, I’m not telling you!” He squeaked, finally looking at his kind, sweet, dear older brother.

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not!”

And that was how Jimmy ended up in a headlock on ZITS’s kitchen floor, Impulse reluctantly using Jimmy’s phone to text Grian the address on his calendar. Tango, simp that he was, managed to distract Grian by jokingly calling Jimmy honey, forcing Grian to let go in order to pretend to hurl, during which time Jimmy made his escape back to the car.

He won though, and the next day when Jimmy pulled up with Skizz and Tango to the house tour, Grian and Impulse were already waiting there with the realtor.

“I can’t believe you.” Jimmy dragged his hands down his face. “Don’t you have to, I don’t know, work?”

“Jokes on you, I’m my own boss.” Grian puffed up his chest.

Tango patted Jimmy on the back and turned the both of them towards the poor, confused realtor. “Let’s just get this over with.” He soothed, to which Jimmy gave him a saccharine smile.

The property was ridiculously nice. It wasn’t especially big, but it was lined by woodlands and already had a garden, albeit in need of some severe TLC. There was even an old chicken coop to the side of the house that only needed new fencing and cleaning. The house itself was a one-story cutesy cottage-like thing. It was older, but whomever had lived in it last had the wiring redone and appliances replaced. The bedroom was big, too, as they tended to be in these older houses, and the bathroom had a proper large tub. There was a spare office room with a nice big window to the garden. The garage was separate, and large enough to be a workshop. All that while being well within the range of good internet and still close enough one could walk to town if they really wanted to.

It was, essentially, Jimmy’s dream home. The only issue Jimmy seemed to have was the fact that the wall between the living room and kitchen had been knocked out for a more modern open concept design with the largest windows in the house.

“It’d probably be a pain to heat in winter, right?” He asked no one in particular.

Grian knew jack all about houses, and only shrugged. It still wasn’t that big, so he imagined not. Impulse and Skizz seemed to mull the idea over a little longer. Tango, though, saw an opportunity, and Grian had to give him credit because the man took it without hesitation. His arm was around Jimmy’s shoulder, toothy grin leaned in a bit too close. “Well, that sounds like a good excuse to cuddle up in bed all winter, hm?”

Jimmy’s cheeks turned pink. He muttered something under his breath that made Tango chuckle. Grian rolled his eyes towards Impulse, who seemed almost too shocked by his friend’s forwardness to notice.

More questions were asked, things Grian was glad he never had to worry about as a condo guy. Owning a home seemed like so much work, but Jimmy had lists upon lists. Of course, it was Jimmy, and even with lists he forgot certain things. But Tango seemed ready to pick up the slack with his own barrage of inquiries.

“I think,” Jimmy said, looking at the kitchen with a bit of awe. “I think this might be it, guys.”

“Yeah?” Tango’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement. Jimmy nodded.

The realtor stepped up. “There aren’t any other serious inquiries at the moment, I think you have a good chance if you put in the asking price.” Jimmy nodded, and the realtor went off to his car to make a call.

Grian pursed his lips at his brother, though. “Are you sure you can afford that? I know you’ve saved up and all, but it’s still a lot.”

Jimmy beamed though, clearly overwhelmed with excitement. “Of course, you think we would look at houses we can’t afford?”

“I mean if I’m honest kind of, but- wait. We?”

“I’ll have you know, despite the beliefs of certain individuals, my credit score’s top notch.” Tango patted his chest proudly. “And between the two of us we have more than enough savings for the down payment.”

Grian felt the wires in his brain short circuit and reboot. An unholy screech came from his throat. “What!”

Jimmy and Tango both side-eyed each other, their awkward smiles caught between guilty and like they were ready to burst out laughing. “You… Thought I could buy a home on my own?” Jimmy asked, hiccupping in the middle.

Impulse looked just as dumbfounded. “When did you work this out?” His voice came out hoarse.

It was Tango’s turn to be confused, raising an eyebrow. “Um, months ago? I told you, Impy.”

“You said you were thinking about moving out, not buying a house with a stranger!”

“Wait-” Skizz burst out laughing, pointing at Grian and Impulse. “You guys really didn’t know?”

“No, why do you know!”

“Cause I listen to my roommates?”

“Hold on. Months ago?” Grian pushed them out of the way, getting into his brother’s face.

It seemed Tango was no longer able to hold in his laughter, leaning on Jimmy for support while Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly couldn’t tell if you’d actually forgotten or if this was some bit.” He admitted.

“We’ve been together for almost three years.” Tango wheezed out between cackles.

“Excuse me?” Balked Grian. “Since when? You’ve never met!” His head whipped between the two. How on earth-

A finger twirled absently in the air as Jimmy tried to explain. “Do you remember your Halloween party? The one me and Joel attended, where Tango was dressed up as an imposter?”

“Yeah?” It was the biggest party he’d ever held, how could he forget? His brow creased. “But that doesn’t make any sense, I never got to introduce you two cause you both went… home… early.” Grian’s eyes went wide as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

Tango leaned against Jimmy’s shoulder with a smirk. “There it is.”

“Oh. My god.”

“I told you he doesn’t ever listen to me.” Jimmy groaned.

“You two-”

“Yeah.”

Grian gasp cracked. “Jimmy you slut !”

“ Excuse me? ” Jimmy shouted back in equal amounts of disbelief and anger.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the realtor pause in the entryway, then slowly back out of view once more.

“You heard me!”

“What do you think we did!”

“Well you weren’t enjoying my party, that’s for sure!”

“Okay, okay, everybody calm down.” Skizz stepped in, pushing Grian towards Impulse, who seemed to hold Grian back on instinct more than anything as he was still lost in shock.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Impulse asked, giving his housemate a look of betrayal. It was returned with concern.

“I did? I swear I did.”

“Dipple Dop, he told us he was busy in call with his partner all the time. He extended his work trips several times.”

“That was Timmy?” He stumbled back, leaning on the counter. “I thought he meant, like, an MMO buddy.”

“Yeah, and you certainly never told me!” Grian huffed, which Jimmy returned.

“I did tell you, but you didn’t listen! Or did you just do that thing like with Scott where you thought I wasn’t aware I was dating the guy I lived with for two months just because I told you we hadn’t-”

“You know what?” Skizz clapped his hands together. “I think we all need to just take a deep breath, okay? Everybody just breathe. In,” He took a deep breath, of which his housemates joined in while the brothers continued to glare at each other. “And out.” They all let out a long sigh.

A brief silence fell over the group, only interrupted by a nervous knock at the door. The realtor stuck his head in, eyes darting between the group. “Um, Mister Solidarity, Mister Tek, could I speak to you now?”

“Yes, one second.” Jimmy said, voice tight. The pair left to talk outside.

Grian and Impulse went home after that, waiting for the other three to return. They said little, Grian fuming while Impulse stared at his lap like his dog just died. Zed popped in to say he was going out, at which point he was let in on the day’s events and gave them both odd looks. Had they really been the only ones who didn’t know?

By the time everyone else arrived back at the house they’d pulled themselves together somewhat. Not entirely, but enough to ask questions without shouting.

“So, you’re really leaving?” Impulse asked, voice almost watery. Tango’s posture softened with his smile, and pulled the larger man into a big hug.

“Oh, buddy, I told you I was gonna. I’m a big boy now!”

“Yeah, but… I dunno. We’ve lived together since college. I didn’t think this would actually happen…”

Skizz rubbed his back. “Hey, he ain’t movin’ cross country, he’s just down the road. We’ll see him all the time.”

“Yeah! I promise, Impy, I ain’t going nowhere.”

The three continued to talk among each other, comforting their friend, so Grian left them be. Instead, he turned his attention onto Jimmy, who still looked huffy, with his arms crossed and a glare squarely on Grian.

“I told you.”

“Well, maybe you should have told me better.” Grian turned his nose up as an almost automatic response. Jimmy threw his arms in the air and stomped off to the doorway, and immediately Grian felt the regret. He chased after his little brother. “Wait, Tim. I’m…” A warbled wheeze escaped his throat, straining to get the dreaded word out. “Ssso-…rry... That I didn’t listen.”

The shift was near-instant, disdain laxing into smugness. “There, was that so hard?”

“Immensely.”

“Oh, come off it, you big baby.”

“I just don’t get it.” Grian grabbed his hair. “How did I miss that you two were dating? Why didn’t Tango say something when we invited him to dinner?”

“Well, it probably started with the fact that you introduce me to everyone as Tim and his boyfriend’s name is Jimmy.” He sneered, eyebrow raised.

Well, he had him there. Not that he would ever admit that to his brother’s face. “I still can’t believe you ditched my party to hook up with my friend.”

“Oh my god, we didn’t hook up!” Jimmy threw his head back. “We just went to get Mcdonald’s and watch movies because Tango almost had a panic attack at the number of people you invited and couldn’t breathe.”

“In my defence, I didn’t expect that many people to actually show up.”

“Either way, stop projecting.”

“Wh- excuse me?”

“Tango’s the same as me. I can assure you nothing like that would ever happen.”

Grian pouted. Well, at least they were happy and close by. “Fine, I’ll forgive you if you can get Tango to come to roller derby night.”

“Uh, I don’t have anything I need to be forgiven for, and I’m not going to make Tango do something he doesn’t want to do.”

“But Tim, consider: Tango falling on his butt in the most hideous disco suit.”

That gave Jimmy pause, thinking for a solid moment before a smile stretched behind his hand. “Alright, fine.”

“Yes!” Grian pumped his fist into the air, nearly smacking Impulse in the face as the group joined them.

“What’s going on out here?”

“Nothing.” Both brothers replied, matching smiles immediately getting them suspicious looks. Jimmy pushed past them to grab Tango’s hand and drag him towards the basement. “C’mon, we have to finish planning.”

“Yessir.” Tango saluted with a chuckle.

As they retreated, Grian shouted after them. “Oh, Tango!”

“Yeah?” Bless his soul, he was too busy giving his partner a doofy look that was wiped away the second he turned to see Grian. He did his best to bore a hole through the man’s skull.

“You better watch your back. I know where you sleep.”

“Well, I’d hope so.” Grian didn’t like that grin. “Be weird if you didn’t know where your brother was.”

And that was how Grian began to plan the death of Tango Tek.

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #grian #impulsesv #trafficshipping #solidaritek #team rancher #rancher duo #fanfiction #fanfic #hermitpires #traffic series #alternate universe #modern au #sharing a cupcake

65 notes · View notes

hermitscratch · 1 month

Note

6., and Scarian please!

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

6. A desperate kiss, Scar/Grian, 639 words

Grian hailed Double Life as one of his greatest ideas yet.

The concept presented so much potential: bind the players in randomly generated pairs and make surviving a them problem. Sharing a life so completely opened doors to new strategies, new necessities, and most importantly, new collaborations. Grian had worked out the odds. With their group of fourteen, the likelihood was that most of the pairs would be between people who had never before teamed in the game, or in some cases, never really spoken outside of it.

Joel and Etho were a great example of the former. They'd both flown the Dogwarts banner, back in Third Life, but their interactions were brief and non-committal. The only unified front Grian can recall them ever posing was when a TNT cannon had been involved. They shared a common goal now, and it didn't take long for them to fall in step with each other, especially when they wanted to drum up some mischief.

On the other side of things, there were Tango and Jimmy. The only pair to be united in death, and as much as Grian would like to write them off, once the dirt of their explosive meeting settled, they took to being soulmates like fish to water. Losing everything would do that to you, Grian supposed; Tango and Jimmy returned from that respawn with nothing gained but each other, and that was enough.

Grian probably wouldn't break up those pairs. Maybe some of the ones that weren't as enthused about their matches, like Scott and Pearl. Or the ones that didn't seem to click at all, like Cleo and Martyn. In the long run, it didn't matter much. Grian would take anybody, so long as it wasn't Scar.

Scar, who went the entire session thus far laying claim to other soulmates.

Scar, who misconstrued Grian's concern for his wellbeing as plain early-game kindness.

After the second failed attempt at telling Scar that the universe's sick sense of humor had seen it fit to tie them together, again, Grian started to wonder if the ignorance was willful.

They didn't have much longer before session hours ended. At least Scar was easy to find, sat at the edge of the jungle and surrounded by the odd, cat-like pandas he'd taken a liking to.

The first try was a bust. Scar looked away when the pandas followed him, the flash of damage shooting through them both going entirely unnoticed, and Grian made a frustrated sound. Four hearts gone, for nothing.

They could only afford one more hit. Grian reset the dripstone, repositioned Scar beneath it, and told him firmly, look at me.

Scar looked up.

The dripstone's point nailed him between the eyes and crumbled. Scar yelped, brushing blood and residue from his face, not even noticing Grian in the same position. They were down to two hearts. They were too hungry to regenerate.

Grian felt a hair's width from losing his mind. He took Scar's face and forced them to locked eyes. It's me, He wanted to scream, Not the allay or the stupid pandas, me. It's always me, always us, don't you see that?

It's been that way since the desert, back in Third Life. Together in the beginning, together in the end. Scar was flippant, clumsy. He was also strong, and clever, and fiercely protective of what he valued. Resources, bases, allies.

Grian.

Grian recalled a handful of lilacs and poppies, and an uncharacteristically small voice asking if they could still be friends with the same look in his eyes that Grian was seeing now. Cautious, hopeful.

He pulled Scar forward. It's us against the world again, He thought desperately as he stole Scar's very breath. When Scar kissed him back, hands holding his waist and pressed chest to chest, Grian thought Scar might have finally understood.

#Scarian #GoodtimeswithScar #Grian #Hermitshipping #Trafficshipping #Double Life #MCYT #Hermitfic #Asks #poet-unkown #Scar #Astral Library #My Writing #I challenged myself to try a different style out with this one #More focus on thoughts than dialogue #It's interesting?#Feels a bit lacking though #Maybe that's just me

42 notes · View notes

inawearyworld · 4 months

Text

music makers/dreamers of dreams: a fiytwtb addition

a study of wren's relationship with music at two pivotal points, and music's relationship to the world of wonka as a whole

2023!wonka x oc (though lbr there is also a SIZABLE dose of fickelgruber), ~1.9k

alrighty SO. i was thinking more about this dang movie (as you can probably see by the rest of this blog) and all those thoughts came here. i am a big ole motherfreakin nerd for music and shakespeare and many other things, and therefore so is wren.

also this takes place in the universe of the original screenplay (in which pure imagination is first sung by noodle as she teaches willy to read). my take on that song here in general is more like the original in the 70s movie; there’s just Somethin About It Man.

alrighty, enjoy, like comment reblog etc, love yall <3

fic masterlist

“We are the Music Makers, and We are the Dreamers of Dreams”, being a Prologue and Epilogue to “the Chronicles of the Songbird”, regarding the Songs in question and their Bird, one Wren Matterson.

Two Years and Eight Months Prior to Chapter One

This had been a very odd evening.

Wren had been put up in a luxury hotel for the amount of time she’d agreed to stay in the city, which had taken quite a bit of getting used to. Coming back to her room after a day of work voicing advertisements, she had noticed a crisply thrice-folded paper slipped under her door, held together with an emerald wax seal.

Yes, that was where the oddness had started.

She’d torn the seal, read the note conveyed by a cursive hand so elaborate it nearly caused a headache, and crinkled her brow.

She’d opened the door to her room’s closet, faced with the sight of a dress, stole, and gloves of deep green velvet that she soon learned were impossibly well-tailored.

She’d followed the address of the note, becoming even more confused when it led her to the city’s cathedral, but presented it to the bishop as instructed. He had looked her up and down and ushered her into what turned out to be an elevator.

She’d continued through the corridors, growing more and more curious and undeniably uneasy, greeted by a woman with tired eyes whom she wished she could have truly talked to. Any attempt at conversation that Wren made, though, was interrupted by whispers that came from the other side of the heavy door-

“The two of you must stay mostly in shadow, she won’t agree if she recognizes you and knows of our arrangement too early.”

“Are-are you sure of her, then, Felix, if she’s too-”

“Oh, do shut up, Gerald, she’ll certainly come around by the time we’ve-besides, you know you owe me one-”

“Gentlemen, please. Let’s just focus on the…ahem…altered choreography.”

“You can’t be in the center all the time, Arthur, it so happens that for this particular-”

“Fine, fine. Miss Bonbon, lights at the ready?”

And then the guard had cleared her throat, the whispers had ceased, and Wren went inside, asking if this summoning was for some sort of rerecording session.

And that was how she had gotten to this point, whatever point this was.

The evening’s oddness now found her the focal point of a whirling tango, a display so dizzying she barely knew which way was up. It was a teenaged fever-dream fantasy come to life, colored lights flooding and hands on her waist and trembling twixt-verse vamps and velvet and tweed and silk.

It was a too-sweet overwhelm of something, but at least it was something at all.

The lighting was such that she couldn’t tell exactly where she was, but she realized that, in that moment, she didn’t care. There was a taste of dark mint chocolate in the air, and she became aware that at some point a massive necklace of dewdrop emeralds had been clasped around her neck by a deft, grazing touch and was now dappling her collarbone as she was twirled, dipped, tossed, thrown.

Most inescapable of all was Felix Fickelgruber’s voice in her ear, accompanied by tight harmonies that came from seemingly nowhere, promising her every speck of security and influence that she’d been in need of her whole life. Any question or dissent from Wren was smoothly dismissed in rhyme, and even when she could get a few words in, they somehow always came out in rhythm.

It was almost as if her innate tendency to musicianship overruled any resistance.

It was almost as if he’d known that would be the case.

The realization was alarming and delicious all at once, and with the current sensation of melodies pronounced against her neck, she was inclined to focus on the latter.

The music from nowhere started to build, shifting from the driving tango into a blasting Broadway finale. Clear-toned horns, stunningly blaring lights, this sauntering silhouette with his sea-of-chocolate eyes calling her by a new name-it was too much, one quiet thought piped up, something’s being hidden.

“You’ll be living so high, don’t refuse my-”

Then the lights dimmed further and all else seemed to disappear, save for Felix and the sound of one solo violin.

“-question it took all this to confess.”

The violin threw in a chromatic accent, adding to her held-back and long-delayed swoon, and she realized the next line was hers.

“Don’t know if I should play it…”

“Darling, won’t you say it?”

Then his hand was lifting her face, and there was silence for the first time in what felt like ages.

She was backed up against a wall, not only in metaphor.

There was only one syllable left in the stanza, and only one possible rhyme.

“Yes.”

She let out a breath, which was soon caught up into his own as violins swooped into a sickeningly soaring final beat.

A Few Minutes Following Chapter Five

The librarian that had been the first in this city to give Wren a kind smile all that time ago was standing on her steps, hugging her daughter, who looked as if she was finally breathing for the first time in her fourteen years.

Without question, this was the most beautiful thing that the other woman had ever witnessed.

Something close to the same was probably true, too, for the man who stood beside her.

“If you want to view paradise, simply look at them and view it.”

He’d sung to Noodle to encourage her as they approached the library, a lilting melody that he was currently continuing-to himself now, and with tears in his voice.

“Somebody to hold onto; it’s all we really need.”

They both knew Noodle would stay in touch with them, they knew they were more than happy for her, but they were still touched with tears. Wren had her own bond with the girl, but she knew Willy would miss her the most out of everyone, so she took his arm, and they leaned on each other.

“Nothing else to it.”

He was probably thinking of his own mom, too.

And she was thinking of hers.

They’d finally been able to write back and forth again; Wren had read over and over the two years’ worth of her family’s letters, remembering all the time she’d spent worrying and wondering aloud to Felix why she’d never gotten a letter from them. He’d always flicked her words away, assured her they must have simply been busy, that the mail these days was spotty; his voice was always sweet and smooth on those days, and she’d allowed it to comfort her when she thought nothing else could.

Never again.

She’d written pages of apologies and explanations to her mom, pouring every ounce of love into that paper, and receiving the reply felt like a world-heavy weight off of her shoulders.

It was the same feeling that she knew her friend was feeling now, that her new love had felt in spirit just minutes ago.

They held each other, certain and close within the shared tinge of loneliness.

“So goes a good deed in a weary world.”

They turned to see the Oompa-Loompa just down the path, looking between them, his eyebrows going up a bit when his gaze found Wren.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Wonka,” he said half-sarcastically, “it seems I’ve misquoted in the presence of your aficionado of the Bard. ‘So shines a good deed in a naughty-’”

“It’s fine,” she laughed. “Portia’s…not exactly the most admirable of characters to need to quote correctly, anyway.”

“Quite right.”

“And I do like ‘weary’,” Willy mused. “It’s not what’s written, but it…”

“Just feels better,” Wren agreed, and Willy smiled at her before turning back to the Oompa-Loompa.

“I was wondering if I’d see you again.”

One negotiation later, the three were walking across an old bridge to a castle of ruin that nearly took Wren’s breath away. There was history in these old stones, so much life, so much room to dream.

“It’s beautiful, Willy.”

“Just wait,” he said with a grin.

“It was sweet, by the way, what you sang to Noodle. How did you find that melody?”

“It was hers, actually. Seems the idea of imagination can…”

He trailed off when the church bells tolled in a way that Wren had never heard them ring before.

High B flat, low A, low B flat.

Over the ostinato, she started to hum Noodle’s melody, and Willy stopped in his tracks, looking straight at her.

“What?” Wren said.

“...It fits.”

“Yeah, perfectly,” she smiled.

“Keep going,” Willy said, getting that sort of shimmer in his eye that usually came when he’d thought up some sort of wonderful new idea. “You’re the only person I’ve known who sees beauty in an old ruined castle-not only what it could be, but even just what it is. So”-overwashed with thoughts, he took her hands and kissed them, the dreamer in his element, and she laughed, and the Oompa-Loompa rolled his eyes, and Willy grinned, leading them into the castle-“so, Wren, my dear Wren-tell me what you hear.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and let it come. The possibility of the place, the fulfillment of the past few weeks, the melancholy and wonder, the magic that had entered her life.

“Start with a minor chord on the second,” she said softly, slowly. “Repeat your first few notes, let it fall into the five, then-then it goes to that major seventh.”

She swooned into the unexpected chord, then realized that, as she was murmuring each suggestion, it was blooming into full orchestral realization behind the chocolatier’s voice. At the same time, the castle’s courtyard was starting to take shape; the crumbling walls returned to their speckled glory, a beautiful domed ceiling of glass appeared from nowhere, and colorful ingredient pipes started to snake around each corner. Willy’s eyes widened with wonderstruck joy as his creation came to life, and he and Wren looked at each other with equal and mirrored pride.

For his part, the Oompa Loompa started to seem the slightest bit impressed, which the couple took as a win, smiling in awe as they danced into the space.

“We’ll begin with a spin, traveling-”

“One, two, diminished flat three…”

“-in the world of my creation!”

He was the taste and the sight, she was the sound and the sense.

“What we’ll see…”

“Two-five…”

“…will defy…”

The dance came to a pause, and he turned to her, eyes shimmering with anticipatory trust.

The answer came to her as a miracle would.

Your wheel mixes its chocolate, my song mixes its mode. Subvert their expectations, my love, just like you always have.

“Major three,” she said breathlessly, and-

“Explanation.”

The chord ricocheted through the space, and something like a sigh of a laugh escaped them both. Then the bridge came, soaring and swooping with a much truer hope than anything she’d ever heard before.

Wren Matterson had always loved music-it had been once her lifeline, then her work, then the thing that had held her in place. But now, it didn’t have a betraying hold on her, no-now it was hers, born of inspiration from those she loved, coursing through her skin with a warmth unlike anything she’d ever felt.

Perhaps there wasn’t exactly nothing to it, but they had indeed changed quite a bit of the world, and she had the feeling that they’d only just begun.

“There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination. Living there, you’ll be free if you truly wish to be.”

#fiytwtb #wonka fanfiction #wonka 2023 #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet #willy wonka x reader #wonka #wonka movie #wonka fanfic #timothée chalamet x reader #mat baynton x reader #mat baynton #mathew baynton #mathew baynton x reader

35 notes · View notes

vivitheanimaxen · 6 months

Text

Tango hadn't had this much physical contact with another mer since he'd gotten separated from his pod.

He was pinned against the cold wall of the pool, Jimmy pressed against him and holding him pinned. Everything was just too much, at the moment. He squeezed his eyes shut, just focused on the water pumping over his gills as his heartrate started to finally slow down.

Okay, back up a bit, how did Tango manage to get himself in this situation?

In all truth, he wasn't entirely sure. He'd been swimming around the pool, trying to get used to the way his ripped fins changed his maneuverability, going as fast as he dared in the enclosed space-- probably faster than was advisable.

It was an anxious tick of his, pacing back and forth when he was attempting to work something out. It helped when the problem was something he could inspect with his hands and where another perspective was incredibly helpful. Not so much when the danger was unseen, unheard, and completely out of his control. At least he could pace, here, rather than being stuck in an empty tidepool not much bigger than two body lengths across.

He'd been talking out loud to himself-- just gibberish, really, thinking out loud as he worked the stiffness out of his muscles. Anything to distract from the eerie quiet. The water being this quiet never meant anything good. He was going to go insane if he had to sit here in silence, just waiting to be ambushed. And him being loud wasn't helping. the sorts of predators that made the sea go quiet were the ones you needed to be quiet to avoid.

He felt like he was going mad anyway. There weren't any predators here, not the type that sound would do anything more to attract. But he simply couldn't bring himself to shut up. It was easier to just keep chattering away to himself, because then maybe he would actually have somewhere to point the pent-up jittery sort of borderline panic that was making his scales itch. Maybe then there would be a physical threat to sink his fangs into, instead of this growing dread and certainty that his pod was dead again.

He'd lost his first pod to a silence like this.

Tango hated silence.

It only took a half a second of distraction for Tango to lose focus on his careful balance of speed and water pressure and the way his fins dragged to slow him down for the turn and-- there was movement, something was above the water.

Thwack--

Well, that hurt. Tango shook his head, at least he'd had the awareness to twist, hitting the wall with his back instead of with his head or shoulder or anything that would've snapped with the wrong amount of pressure.

Then there were bodies in the water, humans surrounding him where he lay on the shallow bottom, a mer circling around behind him for the kill--

It was a split-second decision, and a lucky glance of blond hair versus blue that let him tackle the human into the water and take him hostage.

The other two had gills, but this one didn't.

Once he had his back to the wall and the held in front of him like a shield, the other two kept their distance.

It was Jimmy, the mer he'd yelled at before, and the blue-haired half-thing that'd helped steal Tango and maybe-kill Impulse.

The human he was holding hostage was the one who'd maybe-killed Impulse. In that moment, he was incredibly tempted to bleed the human out right here and now. He was a threat.

"Woah-- woah!! just calm down. we can talk about this, right?" Jimmy had his hands out in a placating gesture, "Just-- let Martyn go, alright? He's done nothing to hurt you, mate--"

"Oh? Why don't you ask him about what happened to my human?" Tango snapped, tightening his grip.

"Don't--! You're gonna hurt him--" Jimmy pinned his fins back in a show of submission, backing off.

But the other one was trying to edge around to the side of him. Tango bared his fangs in response, twisting to face him too, "You stay right there-- don't come any closer--"

The half-thing put up his hands, "Let him go, we're not goin-ta hurt you."

"Tell that to the human you killed--" Tango snarled, flaring his fins in threat, "You killed my human, it's only fair that I get to kill yours."

"Killed--" Jimmy twisted to look at the half-thing, "Scott, did you guys kill somebody?"

"No. No, we didn't kill him. We put him to sleep, that's all." The half-thing-- Scott-- shook his head, "Let Martyn go before you hurt him."

They-- hadn't killed Impulse? Oh. That changed a couple things. Maybe. If Impulse was okay.

A moment before Tango was going to let the human go, something sharp bit him in the arm.

Tango recoiled with a shout, shoving Martyn away.

He got tackled a moment later by Scott, everything starting to go out of focus.

They were all liars. All three of them. Liars and cheats and Tango wasn't going to let them get away with this--

He snapped at Scott, managing to get at least one or two solid bites in before the half-thing could really react. A moment later, Jimmy slammed into the two of them, knocking Tango's head spinning and taking the opportunity to pull them apart.

Tango twisted in his grip, shrieking in anger as he attempted to get his fangs into Jimmy too. He wasn't able to get around to anywhere he could do any damage. A moment later, Jimmy shoved him against the wall.

And that's how Tango found himself in this situation.

He gave a half-hearted flick of his tail, flexing against Jimmy's grip. Tango didn't really want him to let go, but he didn't want to just-- give up.

"Alright. Listen here, you." Jimmy hissed into his ear, "You need to hold your seahorses and actually listen for once, instead of just fighting us all the time. Now. Are you done? or are you going to keep trying to bite me?"

Tango shuddered, letting himself go limp as he tipped his head towards the wall. His mouth felt thick and clumsy and stuffed full of pebbles as he answered, "I'm done. . ."

"Moon and stars above, was that really so hard?" Jimmy asked, not letting Tango go, but loosening the death grip on his arms.

Everything was fuzzy, like the way it'd been when he first woken up here. Whatever it was that'd bitten him was nasty. Nastier than the time Etho had accidentally gotten Tango with his spines.

Jimmy did eventually let go of Tango, after Scott had gone back up to the surface to check on the human. Tango still had to lean against the wall, though. He didn't like his chances of staying upright with the way everything seemed tipped ever so slightly to the left.

He had to admit that he was sad about Jimmy swimming off to also check on his human after a little while longer. Even though Martyn hadn't actually killed impulse, Tango couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about almost drowning the man.

Sue him for being homesick, but Tango couldn't help but want the other mer around.

51 notes · View notes

thescribeoflostmemories · 2 months

Note

*coughs* Pants in kakegurui au with reader as a (personal) housepet

Let's say the only reason Pantalone is holding back himself is because you were his benefactor when he first arrived to the academy, losing to him on purpose so that he could pick some cash up for himself everytime it's fund collection time. Everyone knows this isn't some special treatment for him since you do it for everyone who's lacking in funds (for the student council's fund collection) but Pantalone on the other hand is like, *lol*(classic template, I'm sure yk what he does alr)

And pants being the sly bastard he is, uses the cash he won from you to gamble with others, slowly *leveling up* till he becomes the student council treasurer now.

Oh how he wishes he can just talk with you like the other students do but he's just so shy *lol more to insecure but it's ur call here* so when he heard the news you lost in a big game because you've been tricked by one of the students you tried to save, it's show time for Pants *lol*

He acts hella fast too, he won't give you the time to recover from your debts so boom, fund collection time, you are screwed big time.

now you are inevitably a housepet and Pants didn't waste time in trying to be your saviour *lol*, oh you should have noticed how he's the one who has been pulling strings behind your back. You are in fact, not a bad gambler so he ensures that no one will play with you. (The rest is your call)

But one scene I'd love to see (if possible) is probably Pantalone taking you in as his personal housepet (maybe reader lost their sanity by pants' sweet words and the fake security he gives reader) , while your status remains a housepet, the collar and leash on you definitely warns people to not toy with you unless they want to *lol* become one.

Classic and simple but hey, maybe you know a way to add spices :3 (tia *rolls*)

Silent Night

Original title: “Lord of the Night”, " Mine, Mine, Mine! “

Kakeguri Au

Yandere! Shy(?), soft (?) Gambler!Pantalone x house pet! Reader

(Songs listened to while writting: Stalker’s tango by autohearts, Something no everything is wrong by Madoka, whims of fate persona5, Elite four pokemon gen 5)

“Assuming both of them are teens, and mentions of alcohol and abuse of substance is present. But either way, Yandere isn’t a first choice for a healthy romance, not that I am judging by the way. Even if this reached 6,600 words, this work somehow feels so cheap in a way.”

- P of Li’mu

" Even if you have stayed true, the path one will take is ever treacherous and more despicable. Everyone has their own shadow to deal. And every Wiseman is a fool. “ - Scribe, The overseer of Li’mu.

youtube

—

“Where is she? It has been at least an hour!" Walking over to the young student who was supposed to be the overseer of the appointed match, they had just received the notification from their cell phone.

Your seventeenth attempt to grasp upon the reigns that taunted you so by the coined cruelty of your own carelessness.

“Where, is, she?" Repeating your statement like a revenant hungry for flesh, wanting the answer in your mind to be vanquished.

The word irked you further once you heard the nickname they associate with you. “Bonny, she backed–” the reasoning is more than enough to be furious, clenched fists pushed the ill-fortunate student away.

You then proceed to storm out of the common room, seeing Pantalone chatting with a student who had a yellow armband.

Hearing a hint of their conversation, “tell that jester, the appointment—” Hushing themselves once they noticed you.

" Ah, senpai, how was it?" His veracious ghost of a smile made present upon facing you. Waving a dismissive gesture at the schoolmate away, in which did so.

“ Fie. " Words came out more like a roaring sizzle of a fire, indication of another failed attempt.

“ Let’s get you home Senpai, I have some new clothes for you to try on. “ Without fear, he showed the paper bags that have the high end named brands.

At home, walking out of the curtains of the walk-in closet is you, grumbling. Even though it is your own abode, you are not sure how to feel about it now that the Regrator is a frequenter in your comfort zone.

" Are you comfortable with that? " Pantalone asks, shuffling the deck of cards in his hands seamlessly wedging the cards between the others. Eyes closed as he faced you, you who wears the gaudy pink punk-like aesthetic ensemble. All you need is bubble gum to complete the look of a rebellious teen.

“ I would not say uncomfortable but, " You sighed, putting on the fingerless leather gloves and flexing your hand. “ Still, wearing something like this, is borderline of the school’s dress code. ” You raised your concerns, the choice of style is seemingly at random. He knew you prefer a more lovely coloured hue hence he got the one you might ‘endure’ the most.

It's fishnet like hosiery, black leather boots. Dreamy coloured lower article, matching sleeveless top, loose jacket. You look far from being who you were before this whole mess. Especially that black lacy necklace you wear, adding a tiny cute bell to it. The purpose of it? He says it is the latest trend, not that you care about it.

Pantalone frowned a bit, and put away the deck of cards, " Sorry, but I have to atleast make you wear something like this. You know how they act if they know you aren't being treated like a 'housepet'." True, with all the false information circulating, you were sure Pantalone wouldn’t come out of his room for a while. Much like when news spread when your ownership fell to him.

You then sat down on the plush bed of yours, crossing your legs and arms facing him. Is there anything in this room that is not ‘gifted’ by him? The decor, the bedding, clothing—

Pantalone called out, suddenly, "You look so," The bespeckled young teen smiled shyly. “ Stunning in that." He continued his words, especially with how ‘tall and intimidating’ you were compared to him in those high boots.

“Pantalone, please," Another sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the pile of gifts you received from him. It doesn’t feel like a gift for some odd reason. But all of these were the things you found interesting and loved, like that latest game you wanted, or that stuff toy you were eying, even clothes for you to wear whenever he brings you to meetings or indulgent parties he was invited to. Perhaps he doesn’t want you to miss out on things he has?

Pushing up his eyeglasses that reflected a fragment of yourself on it. "You don't have to worry about that, you can repay me back, once you found an opponent that could spell out freedom." His signature thinly veiled smile that seems relaxed in your presence.

Adding to that he replied with, "You'll find them, because I trust that brain of yours to think up a plan." Him being the treasurer does give him some perks of possibly scraping a few zeroes into his name. But you knew he wouldn’t stoop to such a low blow, especially that he prefers a more ‘sophisticated’ approach.

You were about to ask him of that strange person earlier, though. Quickly silencing that trivial thought. It was not your place to question what a person entails, no matter how strange and unfamiliar they are.

“It is not easy to scout out opponents,” Given how much you were willing to bet. A meagre brooch that passed down to you as an heirloom is considered a mere child’s decoration to them. But to pawn it, and pay the compounded interest is not ideal.

“I would have thought others would think I would be easy prey to battle considering my connection to you. ” Another concerning thing is that he was recently promoted into the newly established circle called; ‘The Court’ as the ‘King of Coins’. With that kind of title, it would have garnered much attention to you as a chance of mooching off of him. But the juxtaposition of your initial plan, it might as well crumble to dust.

Eyes closed, as you tapped your finger against our arm, "Don't worry, you can just depend on me for now.” Pantalone gestures over to the basket woven object next to the bags of designer clothing,

" Come on now, I got some sandwiches and snacks. I even got a reserve space for us at Jovino’s.” It was almost like you could imagine him wagging his tail, if he has one that is. Opening your eyes just to face away from him with an aspirated expression.

“Pantalone, I appreciate that you would at least take this a tad seriously.” Voicing another concern of yours to him, it is not like a housepet to have a say against their owner. That is at least one thing that sets you apart from them, you are merely ill-stricken with fortune.

That seemed to make him frown, "What's so wrong in having a break once in a while, senpai?" He pouted, it is just so frustrating to see the cul-de-sac of your labour. “You do not have to push yourself," the Rex of earthly desires huffed, crossing his arms. Though, seemingly to understand your point.

Your last opponent, Miss Patisilinia, one of the somewhat richer students yet within your reach of having a higher chance for freedom, had stood you up at the last moment. Like the others who you challenged fell and failed to obtain the winds' breath. Choices thawing thinner and inconceivable each time you try. Treasured assets on hand were resorted to liquefying, thus transferring to the Regrator whenever you lost and he won it back for you. Sitting down on the bed, its plush memory foam sank from the weight.

You can't keep this up, especially the dripping pile of hallowed promises being shouldered by him. ‘Are you even productive enough that another person will have to sweep you off your feet?!’

"How long will this string of mishaps continue?" Pulling on your hair and throwing yourself back on the bed, you’re at wits end. This never ending cess pool game ping-pong of unpaid debt and loans are the heaviest burden of any gambler.

The investor of the hundreds if not dozens of assets under his keen watch tried to comfort you, “ Senpai, please–" Face softened, coming closer and leaning down on the bed next to you to place his gloved hand on your shoulder.

How vexing! To think he claimed himself as your Kohai…

Brushing him off, gently. Turning your back on him while still laying on the bed, mumbling in a low voice you said: "I, this is insufferable." Even though he hasn’t done anything to harm nor force you to do stuff for him, it is kind of him, compared to what others could force such repulsive commands they’ll give you. He does bring you along to his trips, meals, and seemingly keen on listening to your financial advice.

"You could find someone, you just haven't met them yet," Pantalone leaned his head on your side. “Wait a little longer okay, they’re just provoking you to lose your temper.” While that is true, you don’t have anything worthwhile anymore by that time comes.

Much like the previous school vice-president; Oscar, once a wealthy man now turned into a tumbling jester upon loss to one of the Court.

Your throat feels like someone is suffocating you.“How much do I owe you?” one-hundred and eighty-five school days since you were in liability. Those insulting names they called you; ‘Bonny this, Bonny that.’ You were not some sycophant to Pantalone.

Pantalone hesitates as he dictates the amount you lost and he gained. “Do you want me to put it in the journal for you?” You were never fond of putting things on paper. Though certainly grateful that he did not place a compounded interest rate on it nor ask anything much more.

Not even facing him and letting him lay on your side still, “No, no need.” Before you were turned into a house pet, he was a considerably casual gambler, in your eyes at least. Always hanging from the sidelines after you had taught him the ways of the school. Despite his accumulated ranks, he had much rather spend his time with you.

Always so aware of this growing affections, politely declining of his yearning grandiose amore so he would find another that would suit him.

“What am I going to do with you?” The bespeckled, inky haired lad sighed, sitting up from the bed knowing he might not be able to convince you to go on a picnic with him. Not in this state at least. “We really need to loosen you up a bit…” Adding that statement.

With a clenched fist that scrunched up the bedding, “I do not need rest, what I need are answers to solutions. I cannot just be idle,” Dismissive of his idea of being so still, being on standby only feasts upon the Damocles that hangs over you.

Muttering as well as honoring you, “Senpai.” Lazy eyes that stared back at him, realising the singed contemplation of his words.

“ My apologies, I was just–” you say, trying to retract your sentence.

His gloves hand gave pause. " It is understandable considering your position, but please, as for who I am now, I am responsible for your well being. So, please, just this once: humour me. " He pleaded, with softened stillness. Even with his plea, you know your answer to him out of contrite.

Lights erratically move, distasteful music thrums through the speakers of the dance room floor. Laughter of haughty, grim socialites made clear. This is not your forte; Abuse of substance, intimate comfort and loose tongue of conflict, it all reign supreme in the Jester’s playground.

Thanks to Pantalone for the early reservations, still wearing a similar attire from last week now lay resting behind the trinket curtains that poorly give privacy, one cascade down on one side. Sitting on the semi-circle couch with a table in the middle, across from you is a briefcase of his.

Then entered the beast that swaggered “ Are you having fun, Senpai? " Smiled Pantalone, holding a bottle of champagne in his hand and pouring himself a glass that uncomfortably sits at the edge of the rim.

Holding in your tongue that you clearly do not want it to spill over. Hesitant hands held the thin stem of the glass before your resenting gaze peered at the sparkling money that flowed into the clear oubliette, a reflection returned even the most boldest gaze.

Only the booming silence between you in this false box of seclusion remained evident, it is concerning to know that the annual after finals party that promises darkness for depraved emotions. Blaring lights of multi-colored dangers and intangible noises that pass in and out to the other ear. The bottle of champagne was then placed at the table in front of you.

“ Senpai, you do not need to be so, uptight." His posture mimics one of yours, before carefully taking your own glass by the rim from you to grab your attention to him.

“ I have no words, but reserved for any actual opponent. “ And stayed silent you did. Stewing with self-made rejection and tears to brood about your own misery.

The ever artful smile on his face is still, strobing light of pristine dread hit his face. He then hums and gives the gold coloured champagne back to you.

“Since the night is still so young, how about we entertain your idea of freedom?" Standing over you as he raised his glass.

There it is, that uneasiness that settles in your gut. Switching from alert thoughts to another.

Staring at the flute wine that he proposed the prospect of your world cage to be open.

“Look around you, Senpai. Everyone is having fun except you. “ his own cup that greedily has his ooze rest almost readily to the top, only taking careless, shy sips of it. Controlled hands that move so freely, making gestures to the people of the dance floor, not caring for the singular drop of extravagant affluence on to the ground from his prize.

“ I will allow you to let loose, just this once." Pushing up the lenses to properly rest on the bridge of his nose.

“Have some fun,” he pulled out from the suitcase of what seemed to be a stack of 1000 yen similar to a smooth brick and tossed it onto the low table in front of you.

“A gift from me, to help you get started." He hesitated for a brief moment, trying to find the right word to not put a blow on what little dignity you have left.

“Why?” What you gave is an incomplete and incorrect phrase, my dear, it should be—.

“Because: as your Kohai, companion, and fellow schoolmate. It is not wrong to find a supporting pillar of strength for a time.” He replied with confidence, swirling the almost overflowing champagne in his hand that it was held so absent-minded-ly that’s been tainted.

But before you could muster up the strength to phrase your concerns, he raised his free hand. “I am well aware that you do not take charity lightly, which is why I propose we play a game; once that you have found yourself in a predicament,” He then raised his transparent glass to you, your face seemed to blend with the ever bubbly liquid.

" I shall step in, now knowing this gambling world has too many variations for one such as yourself.” He spoke as if he already knew the outcome and already decided your fate in a mere glance—.

‘But this could be our only chance.’ Muttered Es, a lone quiet voice of your own mind that rivaled your own Ego Rex. Yet the darkness that slither up to your eyes of a shadow that mirrored you.

‘Take it and be permanent in a state, or never take it and be forever mournful?’ You and I knew what must be done.

Without a word, you hastily took the dough that was presented to you. Its grainy texture of bills felt like it was meant to be savored, every sliver of it.

“ Very good, now, if you excuse me.” He then makes a toast before swiftly and voraciously gulping it in one go of the liquid gold in his hand followed by a server in muted colors collecting the empty container from him.

“ I shall leave you to your hunt; enjoy the night, Senpai.” The ravenous bespeckled young man bid you farewell for now with a shy look on his closed eyed smile before waving and leaving with the briefcase in hand.

Instead of just waiting for some sod to take the initiative, to think you’d be your own worst enemy; the worst kind of parasite, an opportunist.

___________

“Three of a kind!"

How quickly the tables have turned. Earlier you were so desperate for a breath of relief. Underhand tactics are below you, even if it does give leverage. The Ego Rex does not approve of it.

“Flush!"

Gasping, you are running out of time, four hundred quib and it still isn’t enough to ensure your freedom that drown out by the singer from the speaker; ‘Keep your focus’

Cheating hands that tried to play you into their game, it was clear you were not here to entertain the folly they wanted.

“Pay up!" Yelling out against the voices of the masses that cooped in this dreary game edifice, Simply esurient!

‘Win it’

Coughing out the smoke that the people rolled in lavished mold, the scent is ever nauseous enough to choke on it. The giggles from the gaggle of salacious ladies cooed and comforted the loser from his loss.

‘Maybe lose it all.’

Another hour has passed as you look down at the total winnings you have. It was not enough to satiate the looming debt that chained you. Any slip ups are not allowed, once you do– well, let us hope we do not need to think of it much.

‘So we roll the die, see where it may fall’

From there you spotted a game of sic bo. Your mind tells you it is a simple game, but you knew better than to blindly leave it all to chance.

Nearby are the whispers of wealth; ‘—Oh, to have dreams that are of grandeur!’ ‘ One such as thine should we the (?) feast upon the nines.’ ‘A little wait is all you need—’

Just as you were about to leave, taking a single step, a certain person caught your eye.

‘ — spin the wheel, see whom it may call.’

It was Patisilinia..!

“You!" Stomping towards her, pushing aside the other loitering faceless. She was playing a card game with three other students who wore a similar outfit as hers. Your hand placed on her shoulder and forced her to look at you.

You could see her clearly. Ruffled long black hair that covered one side of her face, and that unnerving eye that stared back at you. Even after the school day, she still wears the school uniform so boldly, the only difference is that she has a gold earring hanging on her earlobe.

No words came out from Patisilinia, instead a young man with long red hair stepped forward.

“ If it isn’t Little Bonny, savant of the Elite King of pentacles. Enjoying the night of ” A young flirtatious, slick red haired man winked. The wild right eye seemed to be glittering with lucre trained on you.

You recognized him in an instant, they were the former Elite C. A. R. D.s that was dissolved, Oscar: Ci-devant vice-president, The Duke of Diamonds. But why, out of all the people you could have run into.

“Leave her alone, brother. We have no ill qualms with her." The person on the other seat said, they look similar to Oscar but with shorter and fluffier hair. His eyes are obscured by a metal masque, with only a hint of gold piercing through the eye slit. His apparel mimics those of impeccable discipline and emotion numbing obligation, the Regent of Cups, Justin.

What are the two C. A. R. D.s doing here? Especially playing with Patisilinia, To mock you even more? Or was this a trap laid by—

The Trampled stud raised his hand, “Funny you should say that brother, but we have every right to pick a fight with her. “ Deft finger dragged on the wooden border of the table as he walked over to you. Aggressively swipe off the dust using his finger off the table before pinching it off his skin. Not breaking eye contact with you for even a moment.

“How about a game, Miss Secretary?” He replied with a shy sly smile aimed toward you, " a little tit for tat, if you know what I mean.” The same finger he used to drag on the table is now slowly caressing your cheek on the backside.

Now is not the time for theatrics, pushing the red head away from you and giving him a stern look.

“You are overstepping the boundaries, warlock." Crossing my arms over my chest, the hint of chime from my choker sounded.

“No need to be so abrasive, dear. You’re just in time for a little, reunion.” It was clear that he was not appreciative of you appearing but, that inane grin he has indicated his intentions.

The dealer then walked in with a brand new deck of cards, it was way more than the standard bicycle was used. No, this was way taller and foreboding.

“ Let’s play a game, just like old times, Sweet-ums.” Taunted the one who used to be your closest companion. Grabbing the deck of new cards that seem to be a perfect fit in his hand.

With a huff, brushing past him. “ I don’t have time for this, Oscar.” You then grabbed Patisilinia’s wrist to drag her, but was stopped when Oscar grabbed the girl’s other hand.

" Up-up-up! She stays, the contract states; she has to complete her obligations.” He wagged his free finger with such smugness.

“Bullshit" replied you, who knew you couldn’t do anything for her now. Just as helpless as you were to the whims of stringed strangers.

“ Read the terms and conditions, funny Bonny! " Oscar laughed. " Now, let go, former equerry. The boss has more than one query." A single tug on your fellow teen made you let go, you could see her staring back so longingly as he dragged her back to the gambling table.

‘Another one lured into the sweet promises of untold glimmer of joy, little servant.

They never change, neither did you.

“Release her, now, Duke." His steps were stopped once you made your move, humming in mild curiosity.

“Come back to your senses, did ya?"

Justin took a step forward, a small frown made present, " Savant, you do not have to humor my brother’s antics, it is all just a mere jest to him. Turn away and continue your hunt.” Yet despite that, perhaps that is why you decided to step up against them.

“Save it, Jush. Perhaps we could make a deal with the one who raised their sword.” The smile upon Oscar’s visage rises this familiar trepidation. Once fearful now the every fiber in you, yearns to gnaw at him using primal discomfort.

Just as you were about to pounce at the short red haired ‘Duke’. “ What is it that you desire, little Scintillating friend? '' Oscar suddenly asked, as if the world went dim, spotlights aimed, leading all eyes upon the sou of a soul!

Dry lips parted to speak,“ My freedom. ” You wanted to graduate from this hell hole, though you didn’t expect his next words.

“ You’ll have it then. “ He said nonchalantly, of course, you aren’t stupid. It reeks with foul intentions.

" What’s your plan, Oscar? " Your eyes then darted around from him to various spots around the room, even upon the dealer and on the poor student.

“ Can’t an old friend help another? “ Scoffing at his words, knowing he wouldn’t do it for no real reason, and friends are no exemption.

He then suddenly added, " Well, if you are that negative about me, how about this? ” Oscar then walked back toward the table and made a hand gesture. " Round one is on me, and round two: I’ll unshackle little itty bitty missy if you win. ” Pointing at the student who wears a bucket hat, she had not spoken since you entered the room.

The sickly looking girl in school attire, you always knew everyone in the school. And yet that student with the yellow arm band eludes your watchful eye.

Even though you have no obligation, and you were about to gamble with her earlier. Still you stood up for her, somehow. Perhaps, it was by fate that you wanted her to be bound to you, as you were to Pantalone? What maddening sadism came over to you?

Oscar gave the deck to the dealer with gentle ease." You do know how to play our favorite, right? " The red haired and vocal socialite asked, and you responded with a nod.

" Excellent! Let the stage, begin. ” Both players then drew a card from the darken dealer. Tired eyes beheld, three people holding their cups up in the air in celebration. I threw the card down on the table so they could see it as well.

From his side the Devil card of the major arcana was thrown, facing upside down. The chains that connected from its fist to the two sinful beings.

“ Lowest, go first. '' Oscar chuckled as the dealer collected the two cards quietly to begin the shuffle. Giving five cards to both of us.

The Lovers; A trump card! Queen of Swords, that could be of use as well later on a bid. Three of coins, ace of coins, and ten of coins. All three are useful to sacrifice until a good card comes up.

It was silent in the game room, the muffled sounds of the songstress could be heard ,

‘Give into temptation.’ As if!

The silent dealer spread a set of cards, revealing one of them.

“Call” You announced before pushing some chips and organized. Face turned unrelenting, tuning out most of the sounds and focused on the game and Oscar. But not before you have felt the eyes of a coyote staring down, watching your every move.

Fingers tapped against the table, as his own brother took his side beside Oscar just as always. “ How long will you last against me, or better yet, why didn’t you ask us for help? ” The ‘Duke’ asked.

The cards felt like they were moving too fast, the ticking of the clock sounded so loud even with all the chatter and debauched music playing. Skin touching the grooves of the linen card, as a set after the other were exchanged.

“ Was pride too much for you? ” he childishly tilted his head but then broke into a sly smile. “ Or was it— ” But you stopped him, if you weren't in a situation like this; a good wring of his neck would surely che—.

“ If you want to continue to gamble against me, I advise: you should keep that mouth of yours shut, Oscar. ” Silencing him, as you gave a side eye. Gripping the cards ever close to you.

“Pft, of course, of course,” He waved your words off.

It was a decent, fair, dead-honest trade. By the time you made your bid on the card the ‘first’ round had ended.

“Round two~” Oscar sighed, taking a sip of the sweating beverage next to him.

As the dealer gathered the cards once more, the short haired colleague spoke “ You were always the brave one. "

“ Perhaps that’s why so many leave mountains of love letters or do anything to be close to you.” He continues his words as he glances up at the card dealer who had their own austere expression, staring at the shuffling cards.

“Stop beating around the bush, you flaming-boy-band-cabaret.” You knew what he was going to do. All he speaks of is mere trickery.

“ You’re the center of everyone’s attention, why leave? “ You could see the green tint of his eyes scanning you up and down. Not a word was spoken as the line of fibery cards hit each other loudly.

Another five sets of cards unto the table in front of us.

‘You will win this…’

Empowering yourself with such flimsy words. As you recall your past victories, this gambling peer seems to be indulging your serious face.

Another somewhat alright hand that showed themselves, Justice, by the dealer. “ This feeling, I almost forgot these emotions… " Chuckled Oscar, twisted ecstasy displayed upon his face.

" Was it your heart, or is it just mine? “ What is he blubbering about? Is he trying to stall again?

Glancing back at your hand, reveals: Eight, nine, ten of swords, while the last two revealed to be seven of cups and king of swords…

No trump cards to play, seems like the king of swords is your only hope, if you played your cards right and bluff Oscar into folding, you could have a chance. ‘You could do this.’

‘Success so clearly in view, but is it merely a trick of the light?’

“Miss.”

Someone with a soft voice spoke. Looking beside you is Patisilinia, her hand is placed upon your shoulder. “ You do not have to do this, it’s alright. There is no need to prove anything to anyone. “ ‘The end waits, for the slightest lapse of concentration, afterall.’

Instead of being grateful for her words, the walls seem to whisper conspiracy in your ears. ‘ prove what? Is she one of them? She was suspiciously quiet earlier, she must be. ’ Keyed eyes glance up and down on her appearance, she is equally fretful and wrung out like a drenched shirt.

“ Do not talk like that as if you knew me for a long time, Patisilinia.” Such coldness of your response made the one eyed girl back off.

“Sorry, you just look really stressed and… “ Leaning closer to whisper; " That card guy, can you tell me about him? “

Looking at the plain looking man that wears a golden bow tie, eyes shadowed by their ruffled black hair. Even the smile is so lovingly, yet so evidently sinister.

Thoughts of what this could mean have entered. ‘Who is he?’, ‘do those two have a connection with him?’, ‘is this a ploy?’

This stirring agitation raises more alarms. Gripping onto the luxurious playing card granted more signs of edged awareness.

" Why don’t we switch it up a little? “ With a sly lazy grin, he tossed a cheque on the gambling table, a cashout that weighs more than your debt.

" All, or nothing. “ He added.

You had no money to pay back should you lose. “Bastard, spill it, this is your attempt to save face, isn’t it?! “ Pointing an accusation at him, to which he calmly and teasingly replied; “I have no idea what you’re talking about darling."

‘Self-Preservation is paramount at all costs!’

Refusing to show even a hint of woe, you have failed to realize that there are more than the people in the room who are staring at you.

“ I won’t let the battle end your way, coward! “ You have no idea what is up his sleeves, though for sure it isn’t pleasant.

Hasty gaze placed upon the cards you’ve held. There is no point in integrity if the opponent has no respect!

‘in this decrepit tomb of refined fashion.’

With grit teeth, and rekindled blade. Despite of Ego Rex had said, securing the win is more important than being sorry and ended up with even more trouble.

‘Come on, let's just enjoy the spice// (Of) Life and feel so free//’

Vision slightly blurry for a moment as you heard the songstress’ words. Fueling you to push onward to a better possibility. Though, it is most probably why they prefer this kind of masquerade.

“ This Someone has not rusted yet. " The Dealer mused, as he began to shuffle the cards with ease.

With using every trick you have accumulated over your days as a normal student. It was going relatively well, until you noticed your points are slowly building up compared to Oscar.

“Hoho, surely this will be our very best bet.” Chuckled Oscar, though him speaking like that makes you feel on edge.

—

In a fit of illusioned madness, everything seems to blend and melt once Oscar prompts his arm on the table, revealing his conniving smile.

You should have known that being so wily and clever, deceiving and swindling never ever makes a person so clever. Was this, who you truly are? The scummiest of all gamblers.

“Save your dignity, little Bonny." Hearing the chair being scraped against the floor caused you to stand up and look at the hulking figure of the Captain that followed the wealthy student Regrator.

You tried to follow suit in an attempt at pulling the ‘bodyguard’ of Pantalone. “Capitano— wait!” you cried out, disregarding tugging on to his arm and silky clothes, " Don’t tell Pantalone! Please!" Tears escaping your eyes as it all happened so fast that you couldn’t process what just happened.

“My apologies, but he is already here." Eyes widen as you see Pantalone, opening his briefcase from the entrance of the room. In one swing, an unfathomable amount of paper bills began to shower everyone in raining crisp geld.

" I’m disappointed, Senpai. I told you if you were in a bind, I wouldn’t mind that I have to help you out. “ No, that’s not the look of a stymied person.

" Let us fully relax, and relish all of these! " His voice seems so primal yet refined, as if his inner demons were being satiated by the act he had committed. Followed up with a wave of his other hand to catch a wad of bills to fan himself.

“Capitano, please help me!" Backing away from the affluent stud and begging at the bodyguard to help.

He stayed silent, making the alarm in your mind blaring. Facing the three you were just with.

“Oscar! Justin! Pastilinia, Please! “ The more you tried to scream out the three would answer you the same. Attempts to move closer failed.

" What isn’t real, could never fade. I truly enjoyed your performances, Regrator, Captain, and of course you as well dear little Servant." The dealer smiled and waved so cheekily.

" Pastilinia! “ Screeching out, anxiety from the realistic danger turned aggressive. Dilated eyes focused on the one eyed girl before you heard a soft click.

" Huh… ? " Moving your gead slightly to see the ever twinkling face of the Regrator just over your shoulder. Not realizing he had let go of the fan money and briefcase to attach a leather leash that’s wrapped around his other fist.

“Dearest Senpai. You haven’t forgotten our promise do you?" Breaking away from his space.

" I can still win! I just need a little bit more time. “ he tugged on the leather to pull you back, making you gag and move closer to him. “Right, Pastilinia!?"

When you realized that your bargains no longer reach his ears, “ How could you?! “ Your aggressive tendencies became apparent as hands reaching out for the sickly girl and the rest that basically sold you out to lash out on.

“ I’m sorry but the Jester promises us happiness as well.” Pastilinia replied softly.

Justine scoffed, " a fistful of happiness more like."

“ SCREW YOU! " You roared as you tried to go over to the three but somehow Pantalone managed to get a good grip on the string to drag you away

“Now, now, we don’t threaten a stranger with a good time, Senpai." No matter how many times you hear him say that, it is always so unnerving.

On your knees and clawing at the carpeted floor, you would have held tightly onto if it weren’t for the money he spilled earlier to make it even more difficult. “ Please, have mercy Sire, Pantalone, Regrator.” Never in your life would you think of being seen this pathetic, infront of your old friends at least.

As a last ditch to hold on to, " MASTER!!!" You screamed that held so much vile emotions into the night. In hopes of making out of this treacherous cage alive.

He once dreamed in the dark for the most part, and now, it is your turn little pet.

Bonus cutscene:

Pantalone truly did wanted to be the one to save the day, yet you did not have a say in what he trade away. He waited for this moment ever since his first day in this academy.

“That’s not how you do that." He chuckled as he moved over to you so he could aid you in putting the clothes on, well more like a jewelry thats running across your body like a sash it doesn’t even conceal anything. It felt cold to the touch, making you shiver.

Pantalone steps back to admire the model that wore nothing but gold jewelry on the bed.

Of course, you felt shame that you tried to cover your chest and hid your lower parts using the blanket. No matter what you did, all it does is add more tease for him to unwrap.

After a glance at the name wheel, he smiled before picking up wrapped candy and putting it in his mouth.

This bewilders you until he pressed his lips against yours, passing the hard peice of candy to you. It tasted chokingly sweet yet sour at the same time.

Tongues twirled and swirled around the hard candy, making loud wet squelches.

He moaned as he lean closer to enjoy it further until you were almost going to fall backwards on the bed if you haven’t clung to his clothes.

With one last push, he successfully laid you on the bed, making the gold on your body made satisfying clinks.

“Be a good girl, for master~" he tugged on the leash, rolling up into his fist.

Confused on what he wanted you to do, you only gave a whine. Though afraid if you pissed him off again.

" Down here, Sweet.”

He purred as he pull down his trousers revealing his shaft.

" It’s alright, take it slow.. be careful.” He guided you closer that his free hand is gripping your hair.

“Be… mindful.” He thrusted into your mouth, letting out soft grunts and moans.

The jingle of the gold pieces on your body sound whenever you and him made skin-on-skin contact.

“Af… after this… you.. you got .. puzzle… solve.. “ Bated breath, Pantalone reminded you of the tast he given you. Though it was an excuse to get behind you and do unspeakable things.

Hints of tears began to appear on your eyes as you felt his tip poking down your throat. You wanted to speak, but all you could do is suck on this one-eyed snake.

The night is only half eaten afterall.

#reader insert #fatui x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere pantalone #pantalone x y/n #pantalone x you #KakeguriAU #fem reader

34 notes · View notes

aquinnix · 2 months

Text

Febuwhump Day 18 - Too Weak to Move

“Guys I told you, I’m fi…” Tango didn’t get to finish his sentence before his legs gave out from under him and everything went black.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been before he began to hear voices again. “Zed go grab some… wait no, come here, he’s awake!” Tango made a low gurgling noise and forced his eyes open, only to be met with a face uncomfortably close to his own. Tango tried to sit up, only to fall back down the moment he moved. “Don’t move, you need to rest.” Impulse pulled a blanket over Tango, one of what appeared to at least fifteen others, one of which was just a large towel and another being one of Zed’s spare lab coats (well, one of Cub’s spare lab coats).

Undeterred, Tango tried again. “Come on Impy I’m fine I just…” He trailed off when his arms once again gave out from under him.

“Tango I got a bucket of lava somewhere. I was going to use it earlier but Impulse was a party pooper and made me wait to ask before I dumped it on you.” Zed’s fake annoyance made Tango laugh, each breath more painful than the last.

Tango grimaced. “No lava necessary, I’m…”

Impulse cut him off. “Say fine one more time and you volunteer yourself to be Zed’s next guinea pig.” Zed’s eyes lit up at the idea. Tango sighed and held his tongue.

Zed’s gaze shifted between Tango and the corner of the room from which a soft orange glow was emanating. “So that’s a yes to the lava?” Impulse glared at him playfully. “Ok jeez.” Zed held up his hands.

“Can someone tell me what happened?” Tango groaned.

Impulse frowned. “I think you know exactly what happened mister ‘I’m going to spend all my time in the freezing cold for a year.’ What did you think was going to happen?”

Tango felt sleep pulling at him once again, and fought to stay awake if only to prove a point. Still it wasn’t long before darkness consumed him.

The next time he awoke, everything hurt. Needles of pain poking and prodding at each and every part of him. A small whine escaped his throat, prompting the return of an overly, as far as Tango was concerned, worried Impulse. “How are you feeling?”

Tango almost laughed at how obvious the answer was. Instead, he put all of his energy into not screaming at the top of his lungs. His silence only made Impulse's face soften. “Yeah I know, dumb question. Is there anything I can…”

At that moment Zed burst into the room, dropping the bag he was carrying as soon as he saw Tango, spilling its contents on the floor. The contents in question were another lab coat, a flint and steel, a bowl, some assorted vegetables, and a piece of wool. Impulse brought his palm to his face. “Zed! What did I say about the fire? You’re as bad as Scar with that thing. And I told you no solid food.” He sighed

Zed didn’t miss a beat. “That’s what the bowl is for.”

A small laugh escaped Tango, sending another jolt of pain through him. This time, he couldn’t hold back his scream.

The room stilled and fell silent, both Zed and Impulse froze, staring at Tango. Moments later, both were nearly on top of him. “Where does it hurt?” Impulse’s calming words washed over Tango who could only whimper. The second lab coat was then draped over him.

“Maybe we should get someone. Cub has some medical training right?” Zed giggled, trying to cover the nervousness that seeped into his voice.

Impulse stood. “Not a bad idea.”

Another whine came from Tango, the last thing he wanted was more people here. His attempt at communication was not received. “It’s ok, more help is coming. Please promise me you won’t do this to yourself again. We care about…” Impulse didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before the room lit up, consumed in a blazing inferno.

Now Tango wasn’t the only one screaming.

Zed and Impulse were shouting but Tango couldn’t make out the words, already too far drawn into himself. The pain was gone now, replaced by an insatiable guilt.

He should have known repressing his fire for this long would have ended badly. He should have fought harder. He should have told them to leave the room.

He should have been a better friend.

Even if he had told them to leave, they wouldn’t have, they cared too much.

It was Tango’s fault for making them care about a monster.

#team zit refuses to whump properly #drastic measures had to be taken #tangotek #hermitcraft #mcyt #impulsesv #zedaph #team zit #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday18

23 notes · View notes

scribbling-dragon · 1 year

Note

prompt idea: ranchers are very tired from rebuilding their ranch and so don’t think twice about just falling into the (one) bed together

they wake up in the morning Very embarrassed and flustered (and maybe admit some feelings 👀 👀)

moment of peace

summary:

Sleep.

He hums to himself, turning to look at the bed, shoved in the corner of the room, pressed up against the wall and facing the door. He thinks, maybe, it was done so it was in the best and most defensible position, but right now he can hardly think through his sentences without them becoming muddled with exhaustion and confusion.

Sleeping…seems like a good idea right now.

(ao3 link)

(1,839 words)

didnt quite get to the admitting feelings. but they are so somft in this. it's unbelievable (what's also unbelievable is that you wanna reblog this soo bad. ooooh. yeah, you do (is this working?))

His hands ache, dirt caught beneath the fingernails when he turns them over to look at them. He’s almost surprised at the lack of blisters, from the way his skin burns in odd places, just beside the joints, warm to the touch despite the cold evening air. He clenches his hands, watching as they shake for a moment, knuckles turning white, before he relaxes them again.

His entire body feels as though it is weighed down by leaden weights. His shoulders ache from stretching his arms above his head for the whole day, muscles overused from the rebuilding of the ranch. He aches down to his very bones, the ache long-settled within him- he’s been aching since the sun reached its peak, but he hasn't had the opportunity to stop.

The ranch is looking…better. The smell of smoke still fills the air, and he can no longer tell if that’s his imagination, or if the stench of charred wood is simply lingering around the ranch, as though it remains as a warning- a reminder. The grass is burnt and crisp underfoot, of no use to anything they might want to use it for. It spreads, too, a wide patch of browned grass, circling around the entirety of the building.

He pushes the door open, almost tripping over his feet in what could have been his most embarrassing entrance to a room he’s ever made. Tango looks up as he stumbles in through the doorway, bracing an arm against the wall to prevent himself from faceplanting into the floor.

Tango looks just as tired as he feels, ears drooping and tail dragging behind him on the floor, collecting dust and dirt, as though he’s too tired to hold his tail up. Jimmy’s own wings sag behind him, though they're far too short to come anywhere close to dragging on the ground- far too short to be anything but an inconvenience.

He nods in greeting to Tango, feeling far too tired to summon the words to give even the most simple greeting. Simply speaking seems like an insurmountable task, his entire body aching with fatigue as he simply stands there, blinking, and attempting to decide what to do. The ranch is rebuilt- rebuilt as best as it can be with the resources they have, at least. There is a roof over their heads once more, shielding them from the elements, and the holes in the walls have been patched, preventing the wind from snaking in and nipping at their skin as they attempt to sleep.

Sleep.

Sleeping…seems like a good idea right now.

Yeah. Seems like a really good idea, actually.

He shuffles towards the bed, sinking down onto the very edge of it. It creaks beneath his weight, the bedframe dipping towards the floor as he begins to pull his shoes off, nudging them aside with a foot, before he flops back on the bed.

He grimaces as he lands on his back, face twisting as he lands on his wings. Several feathers twist, misaligned from a long day of being buffeted by the wind. If he thinks about it too hard, which he’s trying his very best not to, he can feel each individual piece of dirt and grain of grit lodged between the feathers in his wings.

He can feel a small pulse of concern and confusion across the soulbond, and he rolls onto his side, completely lacking in grace, turning so he’s facing towards Tango, back to the wall. His partner stares back at him, still stood by the chest he had been rooting through when Jimmy entered.

The tip of his tail flicks across the floor, gathering more and more dust. It’s like…a really large feather duster. But if a feather duster was made from fur rather than feathers. He frowns. He’s not sure what that would actually be called- or if such a thing actually exists. Still, Tango’s tail continues to collect dust, simply gathering it up. He frowns a little deeper, staring at it as it continues to sweep across the floor.

He shuffles down the bed a little, pulling the blanket up from the bottom of the bed, tugging it over his shoulders. It’s a little thinner than the blankets he’s used to, but he cosies into it anyway, tucking it beneath his chin, watching as Tango continues to move idly about their small house.

The sound of shifting fur, the soft sound of Tango’s feet padding over the wood, is something familiar to him. Even with the few days they've spent together, the sound has become something he’s grown used to, listening out for it when they lapse into silence. Tango has a habit of making small noises, filling the silence with small sounds.

The first time Tango made a chirping sound, so similar to that of a cat, he hadn't realised Tango had been the one that made it. Only once an odd feeling of embarrassment that wasn't his own washed over the soulbond, did he realise it had been Tango. He hadn't mentioned it, noting Tango’s slightly red face and tense posture, and leaving it alone.

He hums beneath his breath as he works, too, tail twitching along with whatever beat he’s keeping to in his head. With Tango around, the silent moments are never truly silent- they're quiet moments now, filled with the small noises Tango makes as he works, moving about their ranch.

He allows his eyes to slip shut, tugging the blanket a little tighter around himself, content to listen to Tango moving around. He listens, drifting closer and closer to the edge of sleep, as Tango rummages around in their chests once more, the soft sound of items shifting against each other almost drowning out the sound of Tango’s voice completely, muttering to himself as he looks for something specific.

He’s not sure what Tango mutters, not the specifics of it at least, but the sound of his voice is familiar, something he’s grown used to- grown to expect since they've been partnered together.

As such, it’s easy to fall asleep. Laughably easy, to simply sink a little deeper into the bed and relax, letting everything drift away.

=== === ===

The first sensation that he registers, on the verge of waking up, is that there’s something tickling his face. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, one that makes him squirm slightly in an attempt to escape from the tickling feeling. He stills, rather abruptly, when instead of managing to push himself away from the source of his minor discomfort, he’s instead held in place by a slowly tightening pair of arms, accompanied by a short groan.

That’s enough for him to open his eyes, despite the fact that the sun is barely risen and it's still too early for anyone to be moving about the server. At least, anyone with a little self-respect. People like Pearl are up at all hours of the night, though he’s not sure whether it’s with the purpose of inconveniencing Scott, or simply plain-old insomnia.

Still, he is very much awake right now, and trapped in bed by a slowly tightening pair of arms, keeping them pressed close together.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it’s Tango pressed up against him, from both the faint smell of smoke and fire that seems to constantly follow the man around, as well as the faint rumbling that he now knows means that the man is purring. Purring.

Now, they may have shared the same bed, rather happily too, for the past few days. Resources are short, and there’s hardly a point in stretching their already meagre resources even further when they can easily share a bed. It had been more convenient at that point, too, with the thin blanket only providing so much warmth, a shared space made it so that neither of them froze their fingers off during the night.

But there had always been a clear divide between their spaces. It wasn't one marked out with pillows, as he has heard people sometimes do - they don't have the resources for that many pillows, either - but simply an unspoken boundary, one that neither of them were willing to cross in fear of what may happen afterwards.

But…he finds himself oddly content like this. Tango has made a rather valiant attempt to smother him completely in his sleep (another point in the nether-cat theory column), and is clinging to him like a limpet to a rock. He can also feel Tango’s tail curled around his calf, the furred tip flicking back and forth idly, brushing along his skin.

If it wasn't for the deep, even breaths he can currently feel brushing against his neck, he’d think the other was awake, but lying just as still as he currently is to avoid waking the other up. But, no, he can feel Tango’s face pressed into his neck, can feel the way the other man shifts and breathes and twitches in his sleep; both of them pressed so closely together that they fit easily onto the single bed, legs tangled up in each other.

It’s actually rather comforting. This small moment of respite amongst the pain and horrors of these games. This brief moment of peace, when everything else is chaos and fire and blood. It’s something he hasn't experienced since the first game- since the first run-through of this song and dance. But the peace then had been derived from their naivety- their lack of knowledge as to what the game truly meant, what would follow once they began turning on each other. The second game was haunted by the ever-looming threat of one of your closest allies turning on you, waiting for the moment you turned your back and found a knife buried in it.

And yet, here, he finds himself comfortable in this moment of peace. It isn't blanketed by naivety, or tainted by distrust of all those he surrounds himself with. Instead, it’s something small and comforting. Something that he might not pay attention to, were they elsewhere. But here, in this moment, he feels entirely at ease.

Perhaps the knowledge that Tango could not- would not, turn on him is what eases his mind so gently. Or, perhaps, it is the simple fact that he can feel his heart thrumming just beneath his skin, and, if he concentrates, can feel another thrumming just beside it, beating to the same rhythm.

He closes his eyes again, curling closer to the warmth that Tango radiates. The soft smell of fire and brimstone hang heavy in the air, yet it’s so incredibly familiar when it comes to Tango.

Five more minutes won't hurt, certainly.

#asks #hoax the ghost #juno.writes #solidaritek #double life smp #dlsmp #trafficshipping #team rancher #ranch duo #jimmy solidarity #tango tek #solidaritygaming #tangotek #solidarity gaming #dlsmp fic #double life smp fic

151 notes · View notes

elliot-jpg · 3 months

Text

Tuggoffelees oneshot for Valentines day

This is my first fic finished and posted, and I hope you guys like it <# the ending is a bit rushed though

words: 2,696

hurt/comfort kinda, slow burn, slight angst, m|m, fluff at the end

Misto's POV:

It was a few days after the Jellicle Ball. I was curled on the trunk next to Victoria, both doing our respective things. The night was a chilly one, much colder than the day, yet not uncomfortable. She had been talking bout her and Plato for a while now and it got me thinking. As my sister talked, my gaze began to wander, eventually landing on one cat in particular. The Rum Tum Tugger. A curious cat he was, surrounded by many of the queens. He flashed his teeth in a cocky grin, his bright orange eyes shifting towards me and I turn my head to Victoria in attempt to seem as disinterested as I pretended to be. "-offelees-" "-stoffelees" "Mistoffelees!" Victoria yelled. Only then I realized I had been zoning out. "Are you okay?" She asked worriedly, "You were staring off into space again." I shook my head and put on a smile. "Yeah, 'm fine Vic, just thinking." My reassurance only brought more concern to Victoria as I rarely ever lied to her, but I wasn't lying right? With my attention on Victoria I failed to noticed a figure approaching from behind me. Victoria on the other hand greeted them with a smile. "Morning Munkustrap!" She said with her usual cheerful expression. Admittedly I was caught off guard though I quickly regained composure. "Mistoffelees, can I have a word with you? Alone?" "Okay, that was a worrying way to start" I thought to myself before hopping off of the trunk. Munkustrap led me around to a pile of tires off to the side.

3rd person:

Munkustrap turned to look at Mistoffelees, his expression showed no negative signs though his demeanor expressed his concerns well enough. Mistoffelees stood in confusion and slight concern as to what was going on but those feelings soon left when Munkustrap began to speak. "I've seen the way you look at my brother, Misto." "'m pretty sure everyone sees how I look at him." Misto retorts, interrupting him mid sentence. "-But him!" Munk stood there and he considered the fact but he knew his brother better than anyone, "He knows, Misto. But he wont make the first move. Not with you at least." Misto's confusion only grew along side his anxiety. "Let me rephrase it. He won't blatantly flirt with you…" "Why me? He has no problem flirting with anyone else?" Munkustrap rubs his temple at this and sighs, "You're both oblivious to one another. My brother, lets say, may have a low attention span but you've got his attention throughout most of the day!" Misto perks up at this revelation, his previous nerves peaking for a new found reason. He had hoped Tugger liked him back, but this? It being true just made the situation feel so unreal. And if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

Munkustrap's words made their home in Mistoffelees' mind. He couldn't help but feel some pride for gaining the attention of someone like Tugger. Misto knew Tugger though. Or at least he thinks he knows Tugger. With now knowing of Tugger's feelings, doubt also makes it's way in. And like a sick tango, it dances in his mind with Munk's words. Despite all those thoughts, hope was there and Misto knew that if he was serious about Tugger he would have to show that it was mutual. So Mistoffelees showed off his magic a bit more often. What harm could that do, really? It was just enough to catch Tuggers attention. And it worked. Kinda. With Tuggers attention, came the others attention in a way. Sure, Misto wasn't the shiest cat around. Hell, he loved being the center of attention. This was different though. He wanted to be the center of Tugger's attention. He could care less if he gain the attention of the other toms or queens. Misto would practice his magic in more open and populated areas, just in view of Tugger, Just for Tugger (and whoever was stuck to his side at the moment).

Tugger's pov:

Misto was acting weird today. He was still his eccentric self, but it seemed directed towards me for some reason. I mean, of course, it's me. But it was me. He normally would never act like this. Showin off and all. I couldn't complain though, his magic was so cool! Told him that once, too! Mistoffelees thought I was joking and brushed it off (T^T). How could I not find it at least kinda cool? Making smoke and little explosions out of nowhere, or when he made Old Deuteronomy reappear! Mistoffelees was incredible in my eyes… If only I could really get to know him. He was so interesting to watch. But the thing I couldn't get out of my head was how he rubbed against me during my song (based off the 2010 "Cats Now and Forever" in Manila video clip). We've never been that close before. And just for him to insult me right after?!… oh god, was I really into him?? He was just on the opposite side of the Junkyard, I think he was trying a new trick. Every once i a while he would look my way with a smirk on his face. Almost like he was saying "did you see that?" It was amusing. For me at least. Bomba was stuck to my side like glue, she didn't seem as interested in Misto's magic like I was. I was hoping she would get bored enough to go somewhere else.

3rd person:

The night was coming to an end, soon their humans would wake. They knew this. Quickly the junkyard became empty as they fled home for the day. Tugger was normally the last one to leave the junkyard, and today so was Misto. It was just the two of them. The perfect time for moves to be made. "You were incredible today." Tugger exclaimed enthusiastically. Tugger inched his way closer and closer to the tuxedo cat in a way that made it seem like his flirty personality was put on max. In a way that made it seem like he wasn't interested like how Munkustrap depicted it, instead more like a casual hookup. And Mistoffelees all the wiser saw past this. He returned the flirty nature that was shown to him, which he wouldn't do if he wasn't serious. It was done so naturally that it had seemed like Misto was just messing with Tugger from his view. The two had stopped for a few moments just to talk. This was one of the few times they had with it only being them. In Mistoffelees' eyes it was time to tell Tugger how he felt. Even with Misto's confidence and love for attention, it felt like the eyes of a thousand cats were on him (or like 2019 Mistoffelees). Mistoffelees with all his might, reached to grab Tuggers arm, gently keeping Tugger still to look him in his eyes. "Tugger, I want to get something off my chest… Something I wanted to tell you for a while now." Mistoffelees' words were uncharacteristically shaky. Tugger felt a wave of shock go through his body as Mistoffelees grabbed his arm. His ears flattened, he didn't know how to take his words. It sounded like a confession, but whether it was good or bad, he didn't know. Tugger looked to Misto, giving him all his attention, "Is everything alright?" He asked genuinely concerned.

Misto's pov:

With a deep breath, I attempted to let it all out. "Tugger. I like you." There I said it. Tugger was quite… oh, god… was Munk wrong, was I wrong?? He stepped back away from me and smirked. Fuck, his cheeky-ass smirk. Did he think I was joking? "I mean, 'course you do. It's me after all! Love the enthusiasm though~" I looked bewildered at his reaction. I guess I should've seen this kind of reaction coming, especially from him. After his, interesting choice of words, he just walked away!.. My arms dropped to my sides. What the fuck was that?! I gave up my pride just for it to give him a little ego boost! The only options I had were to stay here in the Junkyard or go home, either way I would be sulking. I want with the latter, cause if I was home at least I would have company. I got there long after Victoria and Alonzo, much to the concern of my human. Through the cat door I crawled. Ears and tail drooping in defeat, to which their human noticed as soon as he saw his cat. All Victoria and Alonzo knew was that Tugger and I were going to have a talk and I could see on their faces that they knew something was up.

Tugger's pov:

Holy shit, Holy Shit, HOLY SHIT!!!! Did he just say what I thought he said??? I was, no, I am through the roof! The most talented magician to ever live likes me??! I didn't know how to react I just walked away. It was like I was about to scream but I couldn't scream all at the same time. For the first time ever I rushed home. How was I meant to react, should I jump to the opportunity of being with him, or should I act cool about it. I managed to catch up to Munkustrap before he left me behind, I couldn't wait to tell him what had happened. In fact I could barely manage to keep my excitement to myself.

3rd person:

Tugger caught up to Munk just in time to see an upset expression Munkustrap in fact saw what went down and was initially very happy for his brother, but he was there. He saw how hurt Mistoffelees was. While Munkustrap knew Tugger meant no harm, he felt disappointed. "You're an idiot, y'know" he said, to which Tugger was immediately offended "The hell did I do to you?". Munkustrap sighed and continued on to their home. Tugger was persistent with finding why his brother was acting like this all the way home. Constantly Tugger would cut Munk off and pester him on why he was upset, not taking a second to really try to figure out why.

Back with the monochromatic siblings, the siblings were sitting on their humans couch. Alonzo rubbed Misto's shoulder in comfort. "I totally made a fool of myself, though!" Misto whined, earning a shared look between Vic and Al. Their human walked in to the room and sat down next to them. Their human petted the pouting cat, "You okay, Quaxo?" Their owner asked softly, giving the three cats pets. Misto purred at the touch of his human, but Vic and Al could see that he was really hurt. The two shared a look and nodded, it was their duty as his siblings to be there for him and protect him. Tugger would be no exception to this.

It was the next night, Vic and Al were getting ready to leave for the junkyard, Plato outside waiting for the trio (specifically for Victoria though). "Are you sure you want to come tonight?" Alonzo carefully asked Mistoffelees, to which Mistoffelees quickly and quite frankly happily(?) replied "Of course. I'm not going to stay home just because some tom doesn't feel the same way." "Don't wanna let him win?" Vic joked, nudging Mist's shoulder "I'm glad you're not letting him get to you!". The trio crept under the ajar window and out the house. With Misto leaving last, left with his thoughts. He wasn't going just to not let Tugger get to him but also to regain Tugger's attention. The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat, and he doesn't want what's handed to him, so maybe, just maybe, if he acts like he's over it he'll get the attention he wants. On the walk to the Junkyard it was obvious that something was on Mistoffelees' mind. He wasn't talking as much and barely practiced any tricks just for shits and giggles like how he normally would. And this worried the siblings and Plato to no end.

Tugger's pov:

I still don't get why Munk is upset with me, did I say something wrong? Whatever it was I was going to confront him about it 'cuase if I don't it'll be the death of me! Once I get Bomba off my side I'll have a chat with him. Yeah. That's what I'll do if I don't get distracted I mean. Right as I thought this, Dimeter called Bomba over giving me the perfect window. I practically rushed to Munkustrap so I could finally find out what pissed him off. On my way to Munk, Mistoffelees, Victoria, Alonzo, and Plato passed me, and naturally I flashed Mistoffelees one of my irresistible smirks. And what to I get in return? Nothing! He walked right past me! Shaking my head, I kept on to Munkustrap.

" ey Munkustrap, what were ya so mad 'bout last night? Ya were acting really standoff-ish y'know.-" I perched my hand (paw?) on my hip, popping my hip out as I spoke, "So what gives?" He looked at me like it was the dumbest thing I had ever said. "You're a real piece of work, aren't you…" was the first thing out of his mouth. Ever so dramatically I brought my hand to my chest and gasped. "Oh, really. and pray tell why I'm such a piece of work." Munk grabbed my arm and turned me around. "You honestly don't know what you did wrong? Let me give you a hint. A certain someone swallowed their pride and gave you their heart, to which you walked away." And my eyes widened, shit Munkustrap was still in the junkyard…wait is Mistoffelees mad at me? Did I hurt him??How???

My mind was going at a thousand miles an hour as I watch Mistoffelees go about his business. Occasionally his eyes would flash my way and a shock wave of nerves passed up and down my spine like never before. It wasn't like he was ignoring me, just not giving me attention.

A small siblings pov (Vic, Al, Munk):

Victoria and Alonzo approached Munkustrap leaving Misto alone to Tugger's eyes for the time being. The three had all come to the conclusion Tugger and Misto needed to resolve this themselves, so in the meantime they would watch from the sidelines.

"How long do you think this'll go on for?" while all of them were thinking it, only Al said it. "Till Tugger can use his brain that I just hope he has." Munk laughed off but he couldn't deny he wasn't worried about Misto and Tugger's relationship. Victoria sighed as she was watching the trainwreck about to happen, aka Tugger walking up to Misto to fix things hopefully.

3rd person pov:

Mistoffelees had planned to act over Tugger but his efforts were futile due to his eyes wandering. Like a seemingly never ending cycle Mistoffelees would fight himself to remain strong and focus on himself, not the cat coming his way. 'Wait what?' Misto thought as he saw Tugger walking to him. 'This couldn't really be happening again.' And with his ears pushed unusually back in regret, in a less flamboyant way Tugger stopped in front of Mistoffelees. "Mistoffelees?" Tugger cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I realized I never gave ya a answer yesterday…" Misto smiled coyly, "Yeah… I'm sorry I just threw that on you out of nowhere-" mistoffelees was promptly cut off by Tugger placing his hands on Miisto's shoulders, "Please don't apologize. I like you too..! I was just too in my head." Tugger let his hand rest on Misto in a wordless way of comfort. And it was much needed. And with shacky hands and a heart beating faster by the second, Misto wrapped his arms around Tugger in a way that made it obvious he never wanted to let go.

From afar, The siblings watched with smiles, content in knowing the duo weren't on bad terms. That everything was cleared. It was a relief to the lot of them, and now they could sleep easy.

#cats the musical #rum tum tugger #cats 1998 #mr mistoffelees #tuggoffelees #mistoffelees

7 notes · View notes

coweye · 2 years

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭-𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞.

𝟐.𝟔 𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 - 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 & 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭

Pure unadulterated tooth rotting fluff.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 - 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐱𝐨𝐱

You didn’t belong here.

At least that’s what was blaring through your mind on repeat as you wrang your sweaty palms, agonizing over whether or not showing up early to detention was bad form. Perhaps it showed a hearty level of remorse?

Bracing yourself, with your stomach lodged firmly in your throat, you pushed open the door to find an empty classroom; bar the totalitarian dictator that taught you math, himself.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N, you can be on time after all. Take a seat.” Every ounce of your being wanted to tell him to get a life. One, preferably that didn’t involve torturing kids for the fun of it.

However, the only action you could muster was to race across the room clumsily taking a seat at the front of his classroom and avoiding all eye contact.

At 3:05 pm you were ready and waiting with your notepad and pen laid out before you, you couldn’t help the nerves that wracked your body as the usual suspects filed in.

It seemed you had been invited to an exclusive soiree of Hawkin’s finest bullies and losers as nearly every idiot that had ever copied your homework over the years found a seat behind you. Nearly every delinquent that passed fixed you with a look of surprise as they made their way to the back of the class.

Promptly, at 3:10 pm the door to the classroom was slammed closed and Mr Matthews began his arduous lecture about crime and punishment. As if, somehow, being confined doing homework for an hour in his strongly foot-scented classroom was comparable to hard time in the yard.

Apparently you had missed the memo, as nearly everyone around you decided it was nap time. You however, had resolved to use this inconvenience to your advantage as you began your first draft of your English essay.

You were halfway through your opening paragraph about Heathcliff when the door to the classroom was thrown open rather dramatically. Your already nervous energy made you start in shock. Your head reared up to find a smirking Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson strolling in through the door.

Mr Matthews huffed at the source of the upheaval “Mr Munson! Find yourself a seat and do it quickly.”

Eddie saluted comically before he continued his leisurely pace, sauntering in he took the empty seat to your immediate right, smiling widely like the cat who got the cream as you quickly diverted your gaze.

You attempted in vain to continue your work, however, your neat loopy handwriting dissolved into scrawls of illegible chicken scratch. You tried your best to focus but couldn’t help trailing off every time your eye caught his in your peripheral - you cursed God for making you right-handed.

Eddie’s ringed slender fingers lifted in a tiny three-fingered wave the third or fourth time it occurred.

A cheeky grin lit up his face as you dropped your pen, your face was now molten hot as he chuckled silently at your reaction before glancing around the class, thankfully giving you a brief reprieve from the heat of his gaze on you.

He surveyed the classroom like a King regarding his subjects, his toothy grin still in place as he scoured the room, nodding to the miscreants he was familiar with.

Silence reigned for exactly a single moment before the man of the hour began noisily rummaging around in his backpack before pulling out a notepad, filled with what looked like doodles of mythical creatures from the side glance you could stealthily acquire.

Eddie placed, or more accurately, threw his bag back on the floor and began what could only be described as a fifty-five minute dance of annoying Mr Matthews just enough to irritate him without actually incurring his wrath. The intricate tango consisted of sighing, legs folding, pen tapping irritation that would stop the second the Math bore glanced up from his book.

Even you, a self-admitted swot, had seized any half-hearted attempt at work in favour of the Munson Show.

The star must have noticed he held your attention as he winked your way before he began ripping the pages of his notepad.

Not out, no, just ripping them in half; creating loud shrieks as the paper shredded in two. Your eyes widened before you diverted your gaze, placing a hand beneath your chin and covering the smile that threatened break.

“Edward, please desist or you’ll find yourself back here tomorrow.”

Eddie made one last tear before he dropped the notepad back on the table with a loud thud and made a spectacle of holding his hands up in surrender, luckily for Munson this seemed to appease the man behind the desk.

So wrapped up in pretending to busy yourself, you gave a slight jump when a note landed on your desk.

Sparing your oblivious teacher a glance to make sure he was paying no mind, you unrolled the tiny shred of lined paper.

Was scrawled across the note in Eddie’s messy handwriting, making you smile somewhat reluctantly before locking eyes with the deviant and giving a nod in lieu of words.

You picked your pen back up under the guise of working for the last five minutes after being nowhere near as productive as you had intended due to your fellow inmates' penchant for rebellion.

A secondary missile landed on your essay.

Once again unable to help yourself, you unfurled the paper.

I like your shirt.

He was referring to the Fleetwood Mac t-shirt currently tucked into your jeans. You sent a smile instead of a nod this time which he returned twofold before he resumed doodling in the desiccated notepad.

As 4:10 pm hit, Mr Matthews looked up from his book as he dismissed the classroom urging the entire room to reflect on their actions and make better decisions in life, though for the majority of the souls in the room that would mean changing their entire personalities.

You were quick to pack up and begin the long walk home. You tore out of the room like a bat out of hell in an attempt to get home at your usual time to make sure your Mom was not alerted to your faux pas.

“Wait up!” You heard behind you, sneakers squeaking on the floor as someone raced to catch up.

“Y/L/N! … I wanna say…Y/N Right?!” Everything about him was playful from the grin to the way he dragged out his Y’s.

However, his approach had stunned you. For the singular reason that this simply didn’t happen to you. You weren’t a cheerleader, you weren’t Chrissy Cunningham getting pursued after class by the opposite sex and so, it threw you.

Unable to think of anything better than a jerky nod and a quick smile, Eddie continued, most likely thinking you a mute.

“I’ve not seen you in detention before.”

Words Y/N remember how to use words! Not too many though, don’t pull a Robin!

“...I … Um… I try not to make a habit of getting… well… detained.” You quipped rearranging your bag on your shoulder nervously as he smiled at your lame joke.

“Ah well - I figured you must have handed your homework in too early or some shit.” You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that escaped you at his jab at your expense.

“Speaking of, I’ve gotta get home, my mom will lose it if she finds out I got a detention.”

“Uh... You want me to give you a lift home? Your place is basically on my way back.” Your look of horror must have been clear as day. As he quickly continued “...Which I know from dropping your brother home… after the campaign ran late a couple of weeks ago … totally not a stalker.”

Now, you knew it was a bad decision; he was basically a stranger.

What did you really know of Eddie Munson?

He played D&D with your Freshman kid brother, he was a well known drug dealer and his nickname was ‘The Freak’.

All in all; not great reasons to get in his car with him.

However, as those dark brown doe eyes stared into your very soul you felt your resolve melting and apparently all self preservation along with it.

“That’d be great!”

He wasn’t a complete stranger, plus this way you wouldn’t get home too late, less chance of being caught - less chance of your mother absolutely losing her shit, that is. The hot metal head driving was totally just a nice perk.

That’s how you talked yourself into Eddie Munson’s musky van.

The two of you kept up easy chit-chat, mostly consisting of Eddie asking you questions and you answering to the best of your ability.

“Top three Fleetwood Mac songs - go!”

“Uhh,” You begin listing off using your fingers to count down. “Songbird, third. Landslide, Second. Number one has to be … Dreams. BUT, Stevie on her own absolutely kills Edge of Seventeen, I swear she should go solo.” His face had fallen into an easy grin as you gush. “Same question, but Metallica?”

You weren’t quite prepared for the onslaught of passion as Eddie began listing off more than ten songs claiming he couldn’t put them in order, how it would be disrespectful, somehow AC/DC, Judas Priest and Motley Crue were brought into the discussion.

“... hand to god, they honestly revolutionized the sound!”

“...I’ll give them a listen sometime.” You try your best to appease the metal head.

“You’ve not listened to any of the gods of rock?!” Eddie’s face was one of utter betrayal as he blindly grabbed a cassette from underneath your seat, making the vehicle swerve slightly as he steered with one hand.

Panicked, you grabbed at the steering wheel, righting the vans course. Still completely occupied with his mission he read the label before nodding and pushing it into the radio.

You saw the same messy scrawlings from the notes he’d thrown your way earlier reading; ‘MASTER OF PUPPETS METALLICA’ before the machine devoured the cassette and began playing the intricate guitar solo.

Munson’s hand caught your fingers as he regained control of the wheel, they were soft and warm as they brushed against your own. You pulled back, shocked by the touch, but couldn’t conceal the nervous smile. Eddie seemed completely unphased by the interaction so enraptured by the music.

Eddie’s head bobbed to the beat, his palms drumming against the steering wheel as he sang along.

At one point an air guitar may or may not have been in play.

Sure, his driving was a major concern for all Hawkins road users (and maybe it's pedestrians) but his passion for music was unmatched.

You weren’t sure if you were so much enjoying the song itself or rather enjoying him enjoying the song, but either way, when the two of you pulled up to your home, you pulled up a new fan of Rock and Eddie.

Munson turned the key of the ignition without saying much, before reaching under the seat of your chair and pulling out a shoebox of cassettes.

All thrown in, no rhyme, reason, or even an attempt at organization.

You watched in silence as he searched through them, picking them up and throwing them back in when he realized it wasn’t what he wanted, muttering to himself all the while.

After what seemed an age he cried out, holding the cassette tape in question out to you.

As you grabbed the plastic his fingers brushed your own for the second time, however you didn’t recoil in shock, this time you let your fingertips linger for a moment before you flipped the tape to read ‘Ozzy Osbourne Blizzard of Oz.’

“Listen to track 2; Crazy Train, study it, love it. Keep it safe, it's my favorite.” His pink pillowy lips pulled at the corners as he gave his orders, his chocolate eyes melting into your own.

Eddie Munson sure did smile a lot.

“In that case…” You reached for your bag on the van's floor and pulled out your walkman. Pressing the navy eject button on its side you popped it open, you pulled out the cassette inside and placed it in his palm.

He scoffed when he saw the words printed on the tape. ‘The Very Best of Elton John’.

“Elton John?!” He was incredulous as he pulled at your bag jokingly. “Got any Fleet in there instead, dork?”

Thrusting your shoulder bag away from him with a huff you pushed at his shoulder. “Hey, don’t be a music snob. Elton John is a goddamn poet! Track three ‘Your Song’ is my favorite.”

He made a face that told you he very much doubted that as he dropped it into the shoebox with the others as if it had personally offended him. “I’ll get around to it… I guess.”

“Dick…” You huffed as he snorted at your lack of a rebuttal before he leaned forward until his face was inches from your own and you could feel his breath on your cheek. Eddie’s big brown eyes strayed from your own down to your lips for a millisecond before they returned. The air was heavy between you with anticipation as you begged him to make a move.

Those beautiful hands, with nearly every finger adorned in rings, rose to push back a piece of hair that had fallen into your eyes, lingering for a moment on the shell of your ear.

In reality it was but a second, but in that musky van you felt suspended in time.

Those gorgeous brown cow eyes of his overflowing with whatever emotion was driving him at any given moment. He’d probably laugh if you told him you thought he was handsome - but those eyes were so beautiful - he was beautiful.

Fully prepared for your first kiss, your eyes were a moment away from closing in anticipation when in true Munson style he absolutely shattered the mood with a simple; “We’re here, Sweetheart.”

In a way, he did close the distance, only he leaned across you completely bypassing your mouth as he opened the passenger door for you.

A charming smile was back on his lips as he winked at you, before re-taking his seat behind the wheel and lighting a smoke; completely and utterly blue balling you.

The whiplash was second to none as you gave a disorientated smile in an attempt to regain some semblance of dignity, however your voice was deeper in your state of arousal as you practically grunted.“Thanks for the ride, Eddie.”

Swinging your bag from your lap you deboarded his crappy van, perplexed by how one sided this whole ordeal seemed to be as you were discombobulated whilst he was lighting up.

You had practically served yourself up on a platter for him and he’d taken one look and sent it back to the chef!

“Stay out of trouble, Nerd.” Munson called with a shit eating grin, making you believe that you hadn’t been as covert in your affection as you’d hoped.

“I’m not the one who gets into trouble, Loser!” You called back and despite the embarrassment that lingered in your chest, you were smiling right back at him - with teeth and everything.

God, you were disgustingly smitten after the sum total of a fifteen minute car ride. With that singular thought in mind you turned on your heel and removed yourself from the situation as you made your way up your drive to the safety of your front door, as if you had any face left to save.

The whole situation was made worse, so much worse, as when you turned the key in the lock and pushed open the front door, you heard the splutter of his crappy van start. He had made sure you were home safe before he’d left.

Eddie fuckin' Munson had stolen your heart in the grand total of two hours.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie x sinclair!reader #eddie x wheeler!reader

205 notes · View notes

itsdappleagain · 7 months

Text

i know csweekly is on hold now, but I still have to catch up on The Luchadora Tango Caper, so here it is!!

Season 3 is maybe my least favorite season out of any of them, but I still love it, so I'm really excited to get into this!

Notes under the cut as always and please ignore the fact that I'm a month late on this thx

NEW CASTLE!!! NEW CASTLE YAYYY

sometimes I think this whole series is Maelstrom just talking about shit for like 14 hours

cleo sympathizing with guys in skirts <3 she knows ur struggle boys

love how they slapped up a giant glowing green world map and copper sulfate burning chandeliers before they put in insulation or heat

brunt, girl, calm down. they were just doing their evil minion bagpipe job

british on british violence

that was such a cute nod when this season first dropped. haha theres been no sign of her all summer because of the hiatus you are so clever

they rlly thought they had something with the turn them against each other thing. i cant believe they thought they tvy7 rating would let shadowsan and carmen kill each other 🙄

"carmen is DEAD" (cheery tango music)

i mean it works because we know hes wrong and stupid but like

no offense but the tango dancers are animated in a way that is reminiscent of a kid manually moving their barbie dolls legs to make them walk

our girl <3

tell me why dropping 200 feet onto the top of the metal detector was more sneaky than literally anything else she could have done

ok. yes. but the fact she is robbing it does not negate the fact that she will be on the news for breaking into a bank dsjfsdghfkdsa

1021 is the number on the box- could it mean something? in a strictly doylist sense. october 21st doesn't seem to have any significant holidays...I can't find anything, might just be a random number set.

good god the "i...have his eyes." hits me like a truck every time

gina pulled it out with the voice acting in this one

she WAS a very cute baby

"another" link girl what else has there been you should be ecstatic

ayyy its the character literally everyone except spintrap-stan and amaryllis solely remember for being voiced by dante basco

i love how snarky carmen immediately gets. if he knows her name and what she looks like, obviously he's an operative, so she gets to have a little fun in immediately declining him while still gaining valuable information, almost immediately, about who he is and what his talent will be

everyone is very stretched today

this is not my favorite fight scene honestly (at least until flytrap gets here. dont even get me started on her fighting style im in love with it) because its literally just like ooh. he kicks. she dodges. wow. they really do try with the tango parallels but idk

wow!! other people can kick too??? who knew

she protected the face

cutely runs into oncoming traffic

those cars were not even slowing down girl they were just like HONK MOVE OR DIE

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS FLYTRAP MY GIRL

okay mini rant incoming i already did a post on this like a billion years ago but flytrap is one of my favorites because in my opinion she and paper star are the most dangerous villains we ever see in the show. let me. try to find that post actually

yeah here it is

flytrap is also so hot and has the same va as luz so she's just top tier. idk if the team put half the episode budget into celebrity voice actors and thats why we only got 5 episodes but you know what

love how carmen is literally stopping her attempts to get free to banter. girl. stop

shadowsan <3

love how they do not even bother showing the fight they just get their asses handed to them

why didnt they start in veracruz just asking

not the table

ok guys. you can stop with the tango thing now. its okay

that little conversation between ivy and shadowsan is so good

comrades??? sir its not the cold war

article from 17 years ago, thank you for that easy to understand slang

carmen plot armored her way out of getting her skull smashed in on that train so hard that she made maelstrom stupid

its canon both in and outside of the show that color theory is so prevalent that any sort of red at all immediately signals carmen

the colors are so beautiful in this scene. carmen doesnt have her coat or jacket on, everythings just a little desaturated as she searches

THE ACME GANG <3333

not the finger guns and glasses wheeze hes such a loser i love him

THE FORESHADOWING TO EGYPT WITH THE PYRAMIDS ON HER LAPTOP!!!!

love how all we get of julia this season is her being pissed off and then leaving

he was such an asshole for closing her laptop why did he do that 😭

has carmen just been ignoring vile missions for the last season of the year to research her mom or

girlie is so sad about everything

ah yes, the door, the thing you wish to have opened, the best place to lean your full body against after you knock,

i'M SOrry. did you NOT attend a school for THIEVES

HSDGGDG HEY. just broke into your house. im your long lost daughter

i love how she goes DONT TOUCH ANYTHING and then immediately drags her whole arm across the wall and cabinet

also her face when she sees the masks is perfect

okay be honest how many of you have replayed carmen saying maybe mommy at least once. who. raise your hands

shes sooo buff

love how everyone is taking this so seriously and then carmen is just completely apathetic about anything thats going on

dont deadname lupe, carmen

her hair catching a gust of indoor wind for the sole purpose of making her look sick as hell in her intro card is so iconic

as ivy absolutely obliterating zack in the foreground is so fucking funny

she got that "EH EH EH." titter of "HEY NO. DONT YOU DO THAT" down scary well

devineaux strutting im sobbing. julia was doing SO well and then she got paired with devineaux AGAIN

that cab driver looks so concerned about the hulking texan in his backseat

remember when the trailer dropped and we thought those roses were for julia. good times

everyone narrowly avoiding each other as they pull in

you just know ivy smacked zack when he protested to decoy time hdsafhadsg

gotta say the "EH?" while getsuring to the trophies is fucking hilarious. obviously julia knows she wouldnt go after those but its so funny

i do love the way carmen just shrinks any time brunt appears. she is soooo traumatized

VAMOOSE EL MASKO SHES SO ACCURATREIUSDHKFSKHFD SHES EXACTLY WHAT MIDDLE AGED AMERICAN SOUTHERNERS SOUND LIKE

LUPE IS SO FUCKING COOL

devineaux showcasing his braincells for a spilt second this episode

ah, so begins the not a good time mantra

devineaux getting absolutely decimated because he thinks coach brunt thinks hes handsome is so funny

the referee watching two apparent civilians enter the ring: 🙂

carmen is so funny here. she uncuffs herself and then just leaves devineaux to die like fuck his ass he can get smooshed

carmen getting increasingly mad at devineaux while she drags him places is my favorite part of the episode

also, either carmen got stronger or devineaux had a few bouts of crazed research where he didnt eat, but she can drag him easily now as opposed to when she was struggling back at the trap in poitiers

they put this shot in the trailer and without context it just looked like carmen was standing there glaring at brunt menacingly

the cat burglar <3

worst fucking ref on the planet i love him

was carmen stopping to listen to julia's voice i would like to think so

ah the devineaux and cars gag. i mean, to be fair, it wasnt his fault this time

starts beatboxing

carmen really just dumped her whole life story on lupe thats so funny. girlie started the day preparing for a match, got her house broken into, and then ended the day learning about a global crime syndicate

they really ended s2 going THE NEXT SEASON WILL FOCUS ON CARMENS MOM and then started s3 going well actually um okay so

theres our transition sentence

lupe's yellow and blue palette btw!! cs color theory i love you

lupe is more of a mom than carlotta ever gets to be thats sad honestly

carmens little smile ough

here is a shot that very succinctly illustrates the dynamics in the coming seasons. the three at the table stand strong- always have. roundy is basically a footnote no one cares about him and then brunt...brunt is sort of on the edge. this carries over all the way into s4 when malestrom tries to drown her

oh my god i forgot about the weird halloween thing the faculty has going on this season i love it

my analysis is right in time for spooky season >:) halloween IS nearly upon us!!!

OKAY well my thoughts on the luchadora tango caper...pretty good. honestly its kind of net zero information because we introduce the premise of finding carmens mom and then immediately abandon it but it sets up um....well....it sets up....what does it set up

anyway- not my favorite episode, even though lupe is fucking awesome. i think it suffers a little from deviating from that classic caper structure and jumping around, but it does its job as an introductory episode.

until we return, sayonara, mon amigos!

#csweekly #carmen sandiego weekly #cs weekly #carmen sandiego

19 notes · View notes