#(nobody try to start up a discussion with me about whether bill actually is like rose quartz. i am not invested in this comparison.)

[ckret2]

@actuallyaltaria said: You could probably get away with something newer still like Steven Universe! They sing about their feelings!

This is gonna be a long post because every time I go "man it sucks I can't mention [some kids' cartoon] lmao" I get multiple people trying to suggest ways I can include some kids' cartoon, so I think I need to explain myself.

"Use Steven Universe instead" is a solution if you're assuming I'm coming from a position of "my ACTUAL GOAL is to reference a TV show, any TV show, that people know about, I'm just struggling to find one that's universally familiar." So let me clarify: my "alas, if only everybody knew the plot of Rainbow Brite" theatrics are me being funny for my own entertainment.

I want, very specifically, to NOT reference a real TV show, no matter how well-known it is.

I've mentioned before that I don't want any part of this fic to be dependent upon the audience knowing some other series. I'm extremely firm on this. It would be alienating to any readers who aren't familiar with the property, it would be alienating to readers who ARE familiar with the property but dislike it, it would be distracting to people who know the property TOO well—and it doesn't fit into the Gravity Falls universe.

Gravity Falls doesn't make references to real world pop culture! The hit rap song of the summer isn't attributed to a known rapper like Lil Jon or Snoop Dogg, it's Lil Bigg Dawggg. The biggest boy band isn't NSYNC, it's Sev'ral Timez. There's no Dungeons & Dragons; there's Dungeons, Dungeons, & More Dungeons. There's no Fun Dip, there's Smile Dip. The master of claymation isn't Ray Harryhausen, it's Harry Claymore. Hoo-Ha Owl substitutes for Chuck E. Cheese, Fight Fighters for Street Fighters, BABBA for ABBA... for Journal 3 they even made up a dimension named Exwhylia so that they could avoid canonically mentioning Flatland.

Almost every song, show, cartoon, band, movie, food product, chain business, or other brand name that gets mentioned in Gravity Falls is either a parody of a specific real-world equivalent or a broader parody of a whole category of pop culture.

In a universe where some of Mabel's favorite series are Believe in Yourself and Dream Boy High, it would be weird and jarring to throw in something real like Care Bears.

Honestly—putting my jokes about forcing all of tumblr to watch a cartoon aside—gun to my head if I was forced to include a reference to a real world cartoon, I'd probably be less likely to use Steven Universe than something like Care Bears or Rainbow Brite. Steven Universe would be even MORE jarring. Like, most of the people who are inclined to read Gravity Falls fanfics probably haven't seen Rainbow Brite, so—even though it still has the "this is a Real Thing so it feels like you're expected to know about it" stigma that adding ANY real thing to the fic would have—it's at least is on equal footing with Believe in Yourself and Dream Boy High in that it's still the name of something distant and unfamiliar to most readers, and therefore I could say anything I wanted about it and most people would be like "sure, okay."

On the other hand, Steven Universe? This is tumblr. SU and GF are plot-driven kids' sci-fi cartoons about kids caught in supernatural shenanigans and complicated family relationships that were airing at the same time. The audience overlap between Gravity Falls and Steven Universe is almost a circle. Anybody who sees Steven Universe get name dropped in a Gravity Falls fic is NOT going to see it as some distant unfamiliar story-within-a-story being introduced as a lighthearted narrative device for a goofy "Mabel thinks showing Bill children cartoons is a valid form of therapy" scene. It's going to be the heavy handed insertion of a MASSIVE fandom that a LOT of readers will already have EXTREMELY STRONG IN-DEPTH OPINIONS about—and any that DON'T have such strong opinions are probably the ones who are sick to death of seeing Steven Universe everywhere and are just gonna be irritated that now, apparently, knowledge of that show is necessary to read this Gravity Falls fanfic??

If I said "Bill thinks he's totally exactly like Rainbow Brite" a few readers would politely chuckle and the rest would wait for me to explain the metaphor and why it matters to the storyline. If I said "Bill thinks he's totally exactly like Rose Quartz" I'd have dropped one hell of a bomb of a hot take into a fic that isn't in the LEAST BIT about any alleged character parallels that might exist between Bill Cipher and Rose Quartz. Anyone who's seen the show will immediately start thinking VERY HARD about the comparison and anybody who HASN'T will assume that, because SU is so big, I'm expecting them to know enough to understand the comparison.

If I were to put either of those comparisons in the fic, the point I would be trying to make is "Mabel makes Bill watch a kid's show hoping it will teach him to be a better person, and is surprised that instead of taking away moral lessons from the viewing, he's concluded he's basically the same as the idealistic young hopeful rebel leader fighting against oppressive conformist forces and protecting the people of earth." My authorial intent would be at least partially drowned out by any reference to another show (especially for people who don't get it), but it would be SUPER drowned out by a reference to an extremely well-known show.

The only way to avoid distorting that authorial intent is to not hinge part of the story on some other show.

So am I melodramatically sighing and lamenting over how tragic it is that I can't directly reference The Last Unicorn or whatever in the fic because it would be so totally perfect and very funny and absolutely has valid narrative parallels to stuff that's gonna happen in the fic? Yeah. But my problem wouldn't be solved if TLU was universally watched, or if I substituted something that is universally watched for TLU, because the root of my problem is that TLU is a real cartoon in the real world.

I accept that the specific comedy that can ONLY come from saying "[character from Show A] is EXACTLY like [character from Show B that's jarringly incongruous with Show A]" is comedy that I'm not going to have in my fic, and I cope with this by comedically kvetching about it.

And I'm gonna make up an imaginary girly 80s cartoon for Mabel to force Bill to watch.

#(can gentiles kvetch? idk an english word with the same connotations.) #(anyway this also applies to things like my picture of Robbie blasting My Chemical Romance—in the real fic i'll make up a fake emo band.) #(nobody try to start up a discussion with me about whether bill actually is like rose quartz. i am not invested in this comparison.) #(try and i will crawl out from under your bed at 3 am to inflate a paper bag and pop it over your sleeping face.) #about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[tyongxnct]

𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 - 𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑜

pairing: Jeno x reader

special guest: Jaemin

summary: Jeno and you used to be deeply in love. Your relationship was almost too good to be true. But after a while, the perfect relationship was anything but perfect. No more talking about your problems, just yelling and shouting until you had enough. The lack of communication destroyed your relationship and moving on was harder than you two thought.

song: we don’t talk anymore - Selena Gomez

genre: angst, breakup!au

warnings: swearing

word count: 3.7k

A/N: can’t believe that i’m almost done with the series, omg. I hope you enjoy this 💖 

taglist: @alex-chann​, @aesthetichrj​

© tyongxnct on all platforms

We don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore Like we used to do We don't love anymore What was all of it for? Oh, we don't talk anymore Like we used to do

Your relationship with Jeno was almost perfect, a love just like the ones written in fairytales. You were snow white and he was prince charming, he saved you when you were at your lowest. He held your hand and never let go. You were Arielle and he was prince Eric. You would give up anything for him just like Arielle gave up her voice to be with Eric. Your love was so strong, so real, and so simple. The key was communication. You always talked to each other no matter what was going on. Whether it was about jealousy, decisions about the future, family problems or difficulties with friends. You talked about everything and anything and you always found a solution. Whenever you had a disagreement you talked about it and all the problems were solved like that.

But your relationship didn’t end with a happy ending like all the fairytales did.

The communication stopped and your relationship slowly fell apart.

“How was your day?” you asked him. Jeno was busy with his phone and you tried to get his attention.

“Good.”

Next try.

“I talked to my mother this morning. She missed us and I told her we would visit her this weekend I hope that’s okay for you.”

Jeno’s face lit up with anger. “I told you I was busy. You can’t just tell her that we’ll visit. A no is a no, Y/n. I don’t have time to visit your family what’s so hard to understand?”

“I know that you’re busy, but I thought that you should relax a little and stop worrying about work-“

“You want me to relax and stop worry about work? Who’s gonna pay the bills If I just relax?” he hissed. He had a long day, and he wasn’t in the mood to talk to you.

“It’s just for one weekend-“

“Cancel it. Or you know what? Just go without me. Go visit your mother and let me relax at home without you nagging about everything for once.” Jeno left the living room and entered the kitchen. A bottle of beer would help him calm down, he thought.

“We’re not done, Jeno. Can you just consider it without being an ass?”

“I’m not going to discuss this with you. I’m exhausted. Let me be, for god’s sake.”

You left him alone in the kitchen just like he wanted to be, you entered your bedroom and got changed to go to sleep. You weren’t sure If you changed, but Jeno changed for sure. He’s cold and always so moody. You couldn’t even have a simple conversation with him.

You left the apartment without saying anything to Jeno. He was at work and whenever you called or texted, he got mad. You decided to visit your family, maybe a three-day break would help your relationship get back to normal, you really hoped it would.

Jeno entered the apartment and instead of smelling the delicious food you always made, he was welcomed by silence and an empty apartment. Jeno looked around but you were nowhere to be seen. Some of your clothes were also gone and he started to panic.

He called you immediately and he was furious. How could you leave without telling him anything?

“Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” he asked angrily.

“Jeno I told you that I was going to visit my parents why are you acting like this?” you hissed back.

“I-I forgot- but you could’ve told me this morning! Or last night, do you really think I can remember everything you tell me?!”

He kept yelling even though he knew that you didn’t do anything wrong.

“Are you being serious right now? You can’t even remember one thing I tell you and you get angry at me? Maybe you should listen to me the first time instead of acting like I did something wrong. I’m going to turn my phone off until Monday. Don’t try to contact me.” And you hung up without letting him speak again.

Jeno angrily threw his phone on the bed and took off his clothes to take a shower. He knew that you were right, but he would never admit that. He should be happy, he could finally relax and have fun without you being there 24/7.

You thought that he would change when you come back, but he didn’t.

He was still the same. Not listening but always complaining and ignoring your feelings. Three days with your family made you happier than the last three months with Jeno.

After another week with him, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“This, whatever this is, is not good for us! There’s not a moment you’re not complaining or yelling at me! Not a single I love you left your mouth since I don’t even know, two months! You’re always telling me that everything I do is wrong and that you’re sick of me! T-This isn’t the relationship we once had. There’s no love- just pain. All I feel when I look at you is pain a-and I don’t want that… I-I just want you to love me, but this is going nowhere. So I’m going to say it now,” you inhaled deeply, “L-Let’s just break up and stop our suffering.”

Tears streamed down your face and you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried like this. Your heart was breaking, and it hurt so much, but you knew that he’d never do the first step and just break up with you because he hated being confronted. The communication died just like your relationship.

“Fine. Then leave. If you want to break up, let’s do it. Let’s end it here.” Jeno’s blood was boiling with anger, he thought, but it was actually pain and the fear of losing you. But just like always, he didn’t talk to you about your problems and just agreed on breaking up.

I just heard you found the one you've been looking You've been looking for I wish I would have known that wasn't me 'Cause even after all this time, I still wonder Why I can't move on Just the way you did so easily

Don't wanna know Kind of dress you're wearing tonight If he's holding onto you so tight The way I did before I overdosed Should've known your love was a game Now I can't get you out of my brain Oh, it's such a shame

It’s been almost eight months since your breakup with Jeno. With every passing second, your memories slowly faded. You moved out and moved into a small apartment on the other side of the city, far, far away from place you once called home. It took you a little time to finally get used to the fact that you and Jeno weren’t together anymore.

You weren’t actually looking for someone new, the empty spot in your heart wasn’t 100% ready to be filled again, but when you met Na Jaemin, a literal angel, you couldn’t help but slowly fall for him. You met him in a bookstore, while you were looking for a new book to read, he was working there and helped you find the perfect book and after you finished the book, you spend all of your time in the little bookstore with him. Your relationship with Jaemin started as friends but your heart skipped a beat whenever you were with him and you knew that you wanted to be more than friends. Jaemin could swear that it was love at first sight, when he saw you while you looked through the bookstore and after he got to know you, he fell even harder.

He knew about your relationship with Jeno and he agreed on taking it slow. He showered you with so much love and he was always there for you.

It was one of your friends birthdays when you met Jeno again. She was a mutual friend, and you didn’t want to go at first, but Jaemin encouraged you to face him.

You changed your outfit, even though you weren’t really in the mood to wear a dress but you still wore one. You wanted to show your sexy side to Jaemin. The poor guy always saw you wearing oversized hoodies and sweatpants, but he always told you that you looked hot and sexy, no matter what you were wearing.

“I didn’t know that Y/n has a new boyfriend.” Jeno heard someone say.

“Oh yeah, his name is Jaemin. I’ve met him a couple weeks ago and I’ve never seen her happier.”

Jeno looked at the girl talking. How would she know how happy you were before? How would she know that you weren’t happier when you were with him? You were always happy with him, he thought. Well, you were always happy until he decided to hurt you.

He still remembers how hard you tried and how he pushed you away. You gave your everything to save your relationship but Jeno didn’t care and when you broke up with him, he just let you.

But he was sure, that nobody could make you happier than he could. Right?

You have a new boyfriend, so what?

It’s been months, but you were still the only thing on Jeno’s mind. He was nervous, maybe coming to the club was a stupid decision. He didn’t know why you were still on his mind after months of pushing you away. Why is he thinking about you? Why is he always dreaming of you?

You weren’t thinking about him anymore, you moved on. You moved on and found someone new, someone who made you happier.

Why couldn’t he stop seeing you everywhere?

Why couldn’t he stop missing you?

Jeno started to panic.

He didn’t want to see you. He didn’t want to see you with someone else. He didn’t want to see you happy without him.

You were playing with his heart and his brain. You were the one who left and when you left you took a part of his heart with you and after you left, everything fell apart and he hated you. Jeno hated you because you played with him, you made him think that it was his fault and after you left, everything reminded you of him and he was broken.

But he knew that it was his fault.

No matter how hard he tried to push the thought away, that he destroyed the best thing he had, deep inside, he knew that he destroyed it with his own two hands.

While Jeno was deep in thoughts, he didn’t even notice that he was drinking and drinking and when he saw you walk to your friend with a stranger holding your hand, he finished his fifth glass of whiskey in one go. Jeno was actually drinking a simple cocktail, he can’t remember when he changed his drink to something stronger. You looked, well, you looked as beautiful as always, but the big smile on your face was almost foreign to him, he thought.

When was the last time you smiled like that when you were with him?

He couldn’t remember.

Jeno’s grip around his glass tightened as he watched that guy put his hand on your waist, pulling you closer.

You greeted all of your friends and Jeno watched you from the bar.

Jeno was jealous, not only because Jaemin could hold you, but also because of all of the other guys who looked at you. He hated it, he always hated it. Jeno hated the fact that someone looked at his girlfriend. Whenever you talked about his jealousy you assured him that there was no reason to get jealous and with time, his jealousy wasn’t as bad as it was before.

But right now, he felt like he was going to explode.

Jaemin held you tightly, he knew that Jeno was there but he wasn’t worried. After everything you told him, he knew that there was absolutely no reason to be worried. He trusted you and you trusted him.

You introduced Jaemin to a couple friends, he was nice to everyone and when you were so into the conversation with your friend, Jaemin kissed your cheek and told you that he’s going to get you and himself something to drink.

He knew what you liked, he didn’t have to ask you.

When Jaemin walked to the bar, Jeno watched him with anger in his eyes. Jaemin didn’t notice and when he leaned against the bar, right next to Jeno, he ordered two drinks. Jaemin thanked the bartender and walked back to you.

His hands and lips were all over you, Jeno’s blood was boiling.

You danced with Jaemin and Jeno was ready to leave the club, he couldn’t watch you have fun with someone else. It hurt too much. But when he was about to leave, your eyes met his.

Time stood still.

Jeno couldn’t hear the loud crowd of the club and the loud music anymore, all he could hear was your voice, your broken voice telling him that you wanted to break up.

Let’s just break up and stop our suffering.

Let’s just break up and stop our suffering.

Let’s just break up and stop our suffering.

You were suffering when you were with Jeno and Jeno realized how much of a fool he was. How he took you for granted and how he ignored your feelings.

Jeno hurt you.

You just wanted to feel loved and Jeno couldn’t give you that. You talked to him, you told him how hurt you were, how much you missed him. You were in pain and it was his fault.

Jeno realized, that he always loved you.

He shouldn’t have let you go. He shouldn’t have agreed to break up. He should’ve tried to change, to be better for you, to show you how much he actually loved you. But it was over now, you were not his anymore and it was all his fault.

You softly smiled at Jeno, even after everything he put you through, you were still too nice to him.

Jeno’s eyes were empty, just like your side of his bed, just like his heart. You filled his life with joy, love, and happiness. His heart was full of love for you, but now it was just pain and longing.

Jeno tried to smile back at you, he wanted to tell you so many things, but he couldn’t.

His eyes filled with tears, his fist clenched, his gaze left you and he tried not to cry in the middle of a club. He was so drunk and he couldn’t let his drunk self take over and hurt you further, that’s how he looked one last time at you and left the club without thinking twice.

Jeno wanted to go home and drink until he couldn’t feel that arche in his heart anymore.

I just hope you're lying next to somebody Who knows how to love you like me There must be a good reason that you're gone Every now and then I think you might want me to Come show up at your door But I'm just too afraid that I'll be wrong

Don't wanna know If you're looking into her eyes If she's holding onto you so tight The way I did before I overdosed Should've known your love was a game Now I can't get you out of my brain Oh, it's such a shame

six months ago

It’s been two months since your breakup with Jeno. You missed him. You missed Jeno so much, it hurt. Being apart from Jeno hurt you even more.

You didn’t know what you were supposed to do.

It was almost midnight and your heart fought against your brain.

What if Jeno missed you too?

What if Jeno thought about you?

What if he regrets how he acted and was sorry?

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You didn’t know how you ended up in front of his apartment, but you found yourself in your car. You heart won against your brain.

What if he laughs at you?

What if he kicks you out?

What if he was over you?

But, what if he wants you back?

You were afraid, you were so afraid and the second you unclasped your belt you saw Jeno with a girl in his arms.

He was holding her hand.

He was smiling brightly.

He was done with you.

The sight in front of you broke your heart once again. You didn’t think he’d move on that fast, but then again you didn’t know if he started seeing her after your breakup. What if he cheated on you with her?

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply.  

Seeing Jeno with someone else hurt, but you realized that moment that you had to move on too. You didn’t want to suffer anymore, you didn’t want to be sad anymore. You couldn’t hold onto something that was breaking you apart. It was over and there was no going back.

Present

When your eyes met Jeno’s, you smiled genuinely. You held eye contact for a second and you realized that he looked… broken? He didn’t look like the Jeno you once knew. Dark bags under his eyes and his eyes were red, he couldn’t even walk properly, he was too drunk and you knew how Jeno was when he drank too much.

You weren’t going to talk to him, not because you were still angry and hurt, no. There was no reason to talk to your ex-boyfriend. You moved on and you were happier than ever. You loved Jaemin so much and you felt loved, Jaemin is all you need.

You hoped that Jeno was also happy just like you were. No matter what happened between you two, Jeno was always someone kindhearted and you wanted him to be happy. You hoped that he was with someone who loved him as much as you did.

You saw that he tried to smile at you, but when he blinked you saw how glossy his eyes were and right after, he left the club.

“Baby, are you alright?” Jaemin asked you.

“Yes, I’m fine. I love you.” You once again realized that you needed to lose Jeno to find your true love, Jaemin.

That we don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore Like we used to do We don't love anymore What was all of it for? Oh, we don't talk anymore Like we used to do

The ringing of your phone woke you up in the middle of the night. An unknown number called you.

“Hello?” you mumbled.

There was no answer.

“Who’s there?”

“H-Hi, Y/n.”

“Jeno?” you sat up in your bed, your back resting against the bedframe.

“Yes… it’s me. I’m sorry that I called you this late but-“ he stopped talking.

“But?”

“I- I just wanted to hear you voice.” He whispered.

“Jeno-“

“N-No please, just listen to me? Okay? Please.” He begged.

“Fine.

“E-Ever since I saw you at the club… I-I can’t get you out of my head- wait, no that’s not true, I couldn’t get you out my head for the last months now. A-And when I saw you again, I just… I just didn’t know what to do, so I called you and I want to tell you, that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you. I’m sorry for hurting you, I-I’m so fucking sorry that I let you go that easily. I should’ve tried to keep you- there are so many things I regret.” He sobbed.

“Jeno-“

“I’m not done. I hate myself so much. I feel so lonely and I miss you. I miss you so much- I miss what we had before I destroyed everything- I miss holding you, kissing you and loving you.”

“What about your girlfriend? I thought you were happy with her?” you asked, there was no emotion in your voice.

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend?” he asked confused.

“Two months after our breakup I, uhm, I drove to your house and I saw you holding hands with a girl. You looked happy. I thought you were happy.” You admitted.

“N-No no, there’s no one. S-she was just someone I hooked up with, she didn’t mean anything to me. I promise you that she was just distraction.” Jeno rambled, “But what were you doing there?”

“I,” you breathed in and out, “I wanted to try again. I thought we could start over or something. I don’t know. I had missed you.”

“Y-You wanted to try again? You mean there was a chance for us to get back together?” he couldn’t stop his tears, “You mean I destroyed another chance with you?”

“It’s better this way.”

“No! I can’t believe this, I could be with you right now, I could be holding you right now. I could-“ his voice broke, “I fuck up everything. I let you suffer and I don’t know what to do. I-I love you, I never stopped loving you.”

“Jeno, I’m sorry, but I’m in a happy relationship. It’s over, I’m really sorry but-“

“No, please give me another chance, I’ll show you how much I love you, please Y/n, I love you I can make you happy, give me one last chance to make everything right-“

“I love Jaemin. I really love him. I don’t think we should be talking right now, I’m sorry but please don’t call me ever again.” You didn’t want to hurt him further but this conversation was going nowhere.

“Please, don’t do this to us, please, I love you I-I really do. I missed you voice so much, don’t hang up please. Y/n, I love you. Please tell me that you love me too, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

You could hear his whimpers and cries and you would be lying if you said that it didn’t hurt you hearing him cry like that. But you moved on and there was no way that you go back to Jeno.

“N-No, I’m sorry, so sorry for everything- I-I hope he k-knows how rare you are. I didn’t know that and then I lost you. I love you.”

“Goodbye Jeno.”

“Goodbye, Y/n…I love you.”

SEQUEL: the way I loved you

#nct dream angst #nct angst #lee jeno #jeno x reader #jeno scenarios #jaemin #na jaemin #nct dream #jeno x you #lee jeno angst #jeno angst

[lunarfly]

Harmione Essay: the most underrated H/Hr hug

The Harry Potter movies did a great job at showing one part of book Harmione - they share lots of hugs. But this seemed to shift the attention from book Harmione hugs to movie Harmione hugs. And the situation is worse than you’d think. Many Harmione fans not only underrate some book hugs, but most don’t even know the existence of them. I’m going to be discussing the most underrated hug shared between Harry and Hermione. The one that happens in HBP after Dumbledore’s death. Here’s the hug I’m talking about:

They [Harry and Ginny] had reached the hospital wing. Pushing open the doors, Harry saw Neville lying, apparently asleep, in a bed near the door. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Tonks, and Lupin were gathered around another bed near the far end of the ward. At the sound of the doors opening, they all looked up. Hermione ran to Harry and hugged him; Lupin moved forward too, looking anxious. 

In this scene, Harry had just seen Dumbledore’s dead body and Ginny was taking him to the hospital wing on McGonagall’s orders. Right as Harry stepped in, he looked around, everyone started looking at him and Hermione jumped in his arms and hugged him. 

At first glance, this may seem like a regular H/Hr moment, just another one of their hugs. It may seem like nothing special, we don’t get a unique description of the hug like we did in OotP, for example, when Hermione “threw herself into a hug that nearly knocked him flat.” So you may think it’s not s big deal at all.

But it is.

We have quite a few things to keep in mind while analyzing this hug, one of them being the phrasing. As I said, this hug doesn’t get a unique description but there’s still one thing to note:

At the sound of the doors opening, they all looked up. Hermione ran to Harry and hugged him; Lupin moved forward too, looking anxious.

Hermione didn’t just wrap her arms around him, she ran to him. She was probably standing at the other side of the room but as she heard the “sound of the doors opening”, she immediately saw Harry and ran up to him just to hug him! It’s such a sweet moment.

That’s not all though. It isn’t only cute, it’s also deep and emotional. To understand this, we’ll just have to take a look at the context of this hug, which gives it most of its depth and beauty. 

Here’s a rather long (sorry!) scene for some context:

Dumbledore turned back to look out of the fiery window; the sun was now a ruby red glare along the horizon. Harry walked quickly from the office and down the spiral staircase. His mind was oddly clear all of a sudden. He knew what to do.

Ron and Hermione were sitting together in the common room when he came back. “What does he want?” Hermione said at once. “Harry, are you okay?” she added anxiously.

“I’m fine,” said Harry shortly, racing past them. He dashed up the stairs and into his dormitory, where he flung open his trunk and pulled out the Marauder’s Map and a pair of balled-up socks. Then he sped back down the stairs and into the common room, skidding to a halt where Ron and Hermione sat, looking stunned.

“I’ve got to be quick,” Harry panted. “Dumbledore thinks I’m getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen. . . .”

Quickly he told them where he was going and why. He did not pause either for Hermione’s gasps of horror or for Ron’s hasty questions; they could work out the finer details for themselves later.

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?”

“Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

“I haven’t got time to argue,” said Harry curtly. “Take this as well —”

He thrust the socks into Ron’s hands.

“Thanks,” said Ron. “Er — why do I need socks?”

“You need what’s wrapped in them, it’s the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say good-bye to her for me. I’d better go, Dumbledore’s waiting —”

“No!” said Hermione, as Ron unwrapped the tiny little bottle of golden potion, looking awestruck. “We don’t want it, you take it, who knows what you’re going to be facing?”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be with Dumbledore,” said Harry. “I want to know you lot are okay. . . . Don’t look like that, Hermione, I’ll see you later. . . .”

And he was off, hurrying back through the portrait hole and toward the entrance hall.

So I’ve highlighted the parts to pay the most attention to.

Basically, Harry rushes into the common room after meeting Dumbledore, Hermione asks him what has happened and she notices that Harry looks worried and is in a rush. She asks him what has happened and she’s anxious because she’s already worried just by seeing the look on his face. Harry answers “shortly” and runs to get the marauders map and Felix Felicis to give them to Hermione and Ron. He explains everything to them quickly, leaving out the details, and tells them what to do with the map and to take the Felix Felicis because he’s sure that Draco has achieved something which means no good. And now he’s off to this dangerous mission out of Hogwarts with Dumbledore where his life could possibly be put in danger! Just imagine how Ron and Hermione feel right now. Their best friend is taking a huge risk and is taking part in fighting the dark arts and he might not even return. They’re both looking “stunned” and Hermione is gasping out of horror! That’s right. Her worries and fears are sky-high. And now, after this short explanation, while Harry is “racing”, “speeding” and “dashing” to do everything in time and he’s going so fast that he’s running out of breath, “panting”, he’s just going to leave without saying proper goodbyes. The fact that this is all happening in such a rush is extremely important and meaningful because Hermione doesn’t even get to say a proper goodbye, she’s so scared and worried that her eyes are “huge with fear”, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen to Harry, whether she’s even going to see him ever again, she’s ready to reject the liquid luck so Harry can be safe, she’s trying to convince him to take the liquid luck, even after Harry says he’ll be fine with Dumbledore. She’s giving him the look of disapproval but before she can say another word and say a proper goodbye, he’s off again, hurrying to meet Dumbledore and his own possible death.

Just imagine how Hermione is feeling right now. And if that isn’t bad enough, Harry’s prediction actually comes true and death eaters start attacking! Ron, Hermione and Ginny barely survive the attack just by luck, literally. And now, when it’s all over and Hermione’s standing in a room in the hospital wing, desperately waiting for news along with the whole Order, Harry comes in. And she completely loses it. She runs to him and hugs him. Now do you understand the emotion in this scene? Both of them nearly died, she was probably going crazy thinking what could’ve happened to him, Harry was thinking and worrying about her too (”How long had they been away? Had Ron, Hermione, and Ginny’s luck run out by now?” “ Would he be responsible, again, for the death of a friend?”) and now they finally see each other and Hermione is probably feeling lightheaded knowing that he’s safe (compare to the DoM scene in OotP) and she hugs him. She just can’t do otherwise. And all of the unsaid “I’m so glad you’re safe” and “I’ve been so worried about you”s are all expressed through a beautiful and emotional embrace.

Now we know how deep this scene truly is. And imagine how beautiful this scene would be on screen. So much lost potential. 

It brings a smile on my face imagining a worried Hermione running all the way across the room and flinging her arms tightly around Harry, hugging him and both of them looking so deeply relieved. Then quickly breaking apart as Lupin approaches “anxiously” and asks what Hermione doesn’t have the courage to ask. 

The continuation of this scene is also nice. It’s Lupin who asks how Harry is, while Hermione stays silent but still stays next to Harry.

Nobody answered. Harry looked over Hermione’s shoulder and saw an unrecognizable face lying on Bill’s pillow, so badly slashed and ripped that he looked grotesque.

This shows they are still standing near each other. 

And  later everyone else seems interested in the conversation about Dumbledore’s death and Snape’s betrayal but Hermione doesn’t say a word. Like she’s still petrified from everything that’s happened and now this happened too. 

Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth and Ron groaned.

[...]

Almost against his will he glanced from Ron to Hermione, both of whom looked devastated.

She looks “devastated” and doesn’t say a single word until Harry directly asks her, it almost reminds me of the scene at the hospital when Ron was poisoned.

“So if Ron was watching the Room of Requirement with Ginny and Neville,” said Harry, turning to Hermione, “were you — ?” 

“Outside Snape’s office, yes,” whispered Hermione, her eyes sparkling with tears, “with Luna. We hung around for ages outside it and nothing happened. . . . We didn’t know what was going on upstairs, Ron had taken the map. . . . It was nearly midnight when Professor Flitwick came sprinting down into the dungeons. He was shouting about Death Eaters in the castle, I don’t think he really registered that Luna and I were there at all, he just burst his way into Snape’s office and we heard him saying that Snape had to go back with him and help and then we heard a loud thump and Snape came hurtling out of his room and he saw us and — and —” 

The rest is irrelevant. I just thought I’d mention that Hermione is whispering and she’s almost crying, on top of all of the battles and duels she went through and all the worries and fears she had before seeing Harry alive, now she’s shocked from the news of Dumbledore. This girl is so strong. 

I know I wrote a little more than I should’ve but I just really love this moment. Their care for each other, their worries and their fears, that’s what strengthens their bond. They have the most emotional relationship out of everyone in the series. This hug was truly beautiful and much, much more than just a hug. 

And to end this essay, I thought I’d give you something about hugs (they happen over 5 times between H/Hr in the books) in general:

“We love to feel loved, and we love to feel good. Hugs satisfy both needs. When you touch someone affectionately, sit or stand close to them, gaze into their eyes, or wrap them in a big bear hug, our body responds on all levels: emotionally, cognitively, and physiologically.

Oxytocin — the human love drug — is also released when we hug. This hormone reduces blood pressure and stress hormones. According to Medical News Today, oxytocin ‘contributes to relaxation, trust, and psychological stability.’ Over time, it makes us feel bonded with another person.

Oxytocin provides feelings of pleasure, contentment, happiness, and even euphoria. These feels feel great — and they’re good for you.”

#harmione #harmony #harry potter #harry potter series #harry james potter #hermione granger #hermione jean granger #harry x hermione #harry and hermione #hermione x harry #hermione and harry #hp #hhr #harry/hermione #hermione/harry #harry potter essay #harmione essay #harry potter ships #hp ships #ships #harry potter and the half blood prince #half blood prince

[timelesslords]

baby, just say yes

Read on Ao3

Summary: 

“Okay, then. Marry me.”

Annabeth waited a beat before rolling over to stare at him. His face was dead serious, but Annabeth still thought he might be messing with her.

“What?” she asked. It seemed the safest thing to say.

“Marry me.” he said, again, simply.

Annabeth never appreciated New Rome as much as she did on Sunday mornings.

They didn’t have class, homework could wait until later, there was no chance of a monster attack, and, best of all, Annabeth didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn to slip out of the Poseidon cabin before anyone noticed she had spent the night. She and Percy could just lounge around together and be lazy for half the day, before one of them finally got up and made breakfast.

It was starting to get a little late, but Annabeth couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed. It was comfortable and Percy was there. Plus, they were deep into a discussion about the architecture of the city, which only made Annabeth happier and more unwilling to move.

There was one temple in particular that Annabeth had only seen photos of, but it looked incredible. It was Juno’s, which was unfortunate, because Annabeth would really love to sketch the ceilings for her design class. 

“We should go see it,” Percy said, “It sounds amazing.”

“I wish,” Annabeth sighed, “But Juno loves to torture me. Nobody can go in unless they’re married.” 

“Okay, then. Marry me.” 

Annabeth waited a beat before rolling over to stare at him. His face was dead serious, but Annabeth still thought he might be messing with her.

“What?” she asked. It seemed the safest thing to say.

“Marry me.” he said, again, simply. 

“Are you being serious?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” 

“Uhh, I don’t know,” Annabeth said sarcastically, starting to count out reasons on her fingers, “We’re barely 21, we’re not even done with college, we’ve barely even  lived  together—” 

“We’ve known each other since we were 12, college is dumb, and we’ve made it two months living together and we’ve barely had any problems, so—” Percy said, folding each of Annabeth’s fingers down with each rebuttal.

“College is not dumb.” Annabeth countered. It was his weakest argument, but unfortunately it was also her lamest reason. 

“Okay, fine, college isn’t dumb,” Percy said, waving his hand dismissively, “but waiting to get married because we’re still in college is dumb. It’s not like we haven’t experienced the real world or whatever, we’ve been doing that since we were kids.” 

“Yeah, but that real world is different than like, being an adult, with a real job and a real apartment and bills and—” 

“How could that be harder than fighting in two wars and literally crawling through hell?” Percy asked, only he was grinning now, because he knew he had her. She hit him with a pillow in retaliation, and he laughed.

“You’re impossible,” she said, trying to sound mad, but it wouldn’t quite come out angry.

“You just don’t like that I’m out-logicing you,” Percy said, a little smug.

“You are not  out-logicing  me,” Annabeth huffed. 

“Okay, give me one good reason why we shouldn’t get married, then,” he said. That dead-serious look was back on his face. Annabeth would have preferred him to be smug. 

“Well, first of all, you don’t have a ring. What kind of lame proposal is that?” Annabeth said, knowing she was just stalling for time. 

“Who says I don’t have a ring?” Percy asked, straight-faced. The look on Annabeth’s face must have been extraordinarily panicked, because he sighed, looking defeated.

“I don’t actually have a ring ‘Beth. You can put off your heart attack.”

“Oh thank gods,” Annabeth sighed, covering her eyes with her hands. That really would have been too much too soon.

“But I can  get  you a ring, so that’s really a non-issue,” Percy continued, undeterred, “Next reason.” 

“Everyone’ll think I’m pregnant,” Annabeth grumbled, hands still over her eyes. That made Percy laugh.

“They’ll just assume that we’re crazy for each other and also madly in love,” Percy said. 

“And also that you knocked me up,” Annabeth added, moving her hands to her forehead and looking over at Percy. 

“In which case it would be my fault, and we would share the embarrassment equally,” Percy said easily, grinning. 

“That’s not even how it works,” Annabeth complained, “It would be way more embarrassing for me. Even though it's not true.” 

“We can print ‘Annabeth is not pregnant’ on the wedding invitations,” Percy said, because it was his turn to make her laugh. 

“Yeah, that’ll shut up the rumors,” Annabeth said, trying to ignore how the thought of wedding invitations made her stomach turn. 

“Okay, I concede that pregnancy rumors are at least half-way a valid reason. But I’m going to need at least one more,” Percy said. 

“At least?” Annabeth protested, “Is my potential humiliation not enough for you?” 

“Mm. Not quite. I’m sharing at least 25% of the embarrassment, so it cancels out a bit.” 

Annabeth wanted to argue that 25% was too high a percent, but he had chosen the number well. It was, to Annabeth’s calculations, fairly accurate. 

“Why can’t we just wait?” Annabeth asked. She hadn’t meant for the words to come out as seriously as they did, but she saw Percy’s expression shift from joking to sincere anyways. 

“If you want to wait, we can wait. Forget I brought it up” 

She knew he meant it, and she was really tempted to take up his offer and forget about it. They had talked about marriage before, in an abstract way, and Annabeth hadn’t exactly been  opposed, but he’d never asked straight up either. She had been clear that she wanted to be with him for the rest of their lives, but they’d never discussed a timeline for when they wanted to do things. 

But it had slipped out so easily, and so sincerely. He really did want this. The least Annabeth could do was talk about it with him.

“But  you  don’t want to wait,” Annabeth said, rolling onto her side to face him more directly. Percy shrugged with one shoulder.

“I love you. I want to be with you forever. Why wait?”

“If you want to be with me forever, why do it at all?” Annabeth asked. Percy frowned, little lines appearing between his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean?” 

Annabeth hesitated, unsure how to put her feelings to words. Marriage had always given her a kind of weird feeling, nervous and a little repulsed. She was sure a psychologist would have a field day digging up why, but she didn’t really care to know. It was only the prospect of doing it with Percy specifically that made it tolerable to her at all.

“I love you,” she started, slowly, “And I want to be with you forever. But why do we have to put this weird stipulation on it? Why can’t we just be with each other?” 

“We could. I’ll be with you however you want to be with me,” Percy said, reaching out, and brushing a stray curl behind her ear. Annabeth tried not to sink too much into his touch. She couldn’t afford to be distracted now.

“But you want to get married,” Annabeth protested. 

“Yeah. I do.” 

“Why?” 

To Annabeth’s relief, he didn’t look at her like it was a weird question. It would have been fair, it was a weird question. But he could tell what she was asking, what she was  really  asking. 

“I dunno, I can’t really explain it,” Percy admitted, “I guess I just want to make that promise to you, that I’ll always love you and always be there for you, sick or healthy and rich or poor, or whatever the words are.” 

Annabeth couldn’t help but laugh a little at the end of his statement, and his own lips turned up in a smile.

“You’ve already promised me all that, though,” Annabeth said. 

“Yeah, but this time it’s official. Something bigger than just you and me,” Percy said. 

And maybe that was it; the wrinkle that wouldn’t let her just dive in and say yes and get married at 21 like every other lovesick young adult. Promises. Because a promise made was just a potential promise broken and the more official it became, whether in a prophecy and a knife or a ceremony in front of all their friends, the worse the fallout would be.

“What’s wrong with just promising it to ourselves?” Annabeth asked. 

“Nothing at all.” 

“But you really want this,” Annabeth sighed. 

“Don’t say you’ll do it just because I want to do it,” Percy said. 

“But you really want it?” Annabeth asked. Percy took a second to answer, biting his lower lip the way he did when he was really nervous. 

“Yeah. I really want it,” he admitted. 

Annabeth studied his face, every earnest line marking his expression, right up to the crinkles in the corners of his sea-green eyes. 

She tried to imagine being married to him,  really  tried. Not just in an abstract sense, but what it would look like, what it would feel like. To her surprise, it didn’t seem that different from what they had now. Maybe even better, in some ways.

They were already so much more than boyfriend and girlfriend, they had been for a long while. Soulmates was a cheesy word, but she did honestly and truly believe Percy was hers. And while the thought of actually  getting  married was a little horrifying still, the thought of  being  married to him was a little exciting. Having people understand, at least a little bit, what they meant to each other made her feel warm inside.

And he wouldn’t break his promises to her. He was the only one who had kept every single one, and a stupid piece of paper at city hall wasn’t going to change that. 

“Okay,” Annabeth sighed, finally. 

“Okay?” he asked, a hopeful smile creeping onto his face. 

“Okay, I’ll marry you, you dumb idiot,” she said, unable to keep a smile off her face either.

Before she could continue, he leaned over and kissed her. She could feel how happy he was through his lips, and it was supremely difficult to break away, but she knew she had to or she would get lost and her stipulations would slip out of her mind, never to be seen again.

“I have demands, though,” Annabeth said, finally pulling back. Percy laughed, loud and earnest.

“I would expect nothing less.” 

“I don’t want a big wedding. Actually, I don’t want a wedding at all,” Annabeth said, trying to suppress the shudder that crept up on her at the thought.

“Easy. We can elope. Next,” Percy said. 

“Really?” Annabeth asked. She had thought that might be a bigger deal to him, but he just shrugged. 

“I want to be married to you, it doesn’t matter to me how we do it.” 

“Even if I say I wanna go to Vegas and get it done with an Elvis impersonator?” Annabeth asked, only half joking. 

“Can we really?” Percy asked, his eyes flashing with excitement.

“Maybe? If we— okay, no, I have more demands, put a pin in the Elvis thing.” 

“I’ve pinned it,” Percy promised. 

“Okay. I don’t want a stupid gaudy ring, it's not practical, and diamonds are unethical anyways,” Annabeth continued. Percy nodded. 

“No diamonds, got it.” 

“I want to keep my last name, or hyphenate or something. And if I do change it I want to wait until we’re done with school.” Annabeth said. She was a little nervous about this one, but it didn’t seem to bother Percy.

“We could both hyphenate,” Percy suggested, “Jackson-Chase has a nice ring to it.” 

“Chase-Jackson sounds better, but we can deal with the details of that later,” Annabeth said, waving her hand. 

“Okay, I’m putting a pin in hyphenation order. Next.”

“I don’t want to send announcements or anything. People can find out when they find out,” Annabeth said. 

“Okay, but we have to at least call my mom and Paul,” Percy said. Honestly it was impressive he had gotten so far without even a small amendment to her asks. “And Piper is going to be really pissed if you keep it a secret from her.” 

“We can call your parents,” Annabeth promised. 

“And Piper?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. But the thought of telling her best friend besides Percy was getting less cringe-inducing by the minute. Annabeth actually felt herself getting excited about Piper’s potential reaction. She would absolutely freak out in the best way possible.

“She can be our witness. If you’re cool with that,” Annabeth said. Percy grinned. 

“That sounds great.” 

“Even if I ask her to make it as irreverent as possible?” Annabeth asked. 

“We’re getting married in front of Elvis, I’m not sure how it gets more irreverent than that.” Percy said. 

“We put a pin in Elvis,” Annabeth corrected, “But I’m positive Piper can somehow make it even more irreverent if she puts her mind to it.” 

“Never thought I’d know an Aphrodite kid so willing to ruin a wedding,” Percy said fondly. Then an excited look flashed across his face.

“Plus, she won’t be able to stop herself from talking about it, and then we won’t have to tell anyone.” he added. He sounded so triumphant Annabeth had to laugh. 

“You’re right, that’s perfect. So, when are we doing this?” 

The smile on Percy’s face faltered slightly. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? Because we really really don’t have to.” 

Annabeth hesitated slightly. In truth the idea still scared her a little, even with Percy’s promises that they could do it in the most goofy, non-traditional way possible. But his insistence that he would stand by her with or without getting married was the thing convincing her. If she asked him to drop it now, he would, and he wouldn’t bring it up again, even though it was a big deal to him. 

And really, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to Annabeth as long as they didn’t make it feel so official. Breaking a promise you made in front of an Elvis impersonator felt much less disastrous than breaking a promise you made at city hall. But it didn’t even matter, because Percy would never break that promise anyways, no matter where he made it. 

“I want to be with you. And you want to be with me,” Annabeth said, “It’s a little weird for me, but if you want to do it, I’m down.”

“Okay. Cool,” Percy said, letting himself smile again. It was so radiant it just about chased away every last shred of lingering doubt Annabeth had. Not to mention the few added advantages to being married that had popped into her mind in the last few minutes. 

“Plus, we’ll get a better tax refund,” Annabeth added, and Percy collapsed into laughter. 

“I love you so much, I don’t even care that you’re marrying me for the tax benefits,” Percy said, rolling over and kissing her again. Annabeth let this one last longer, let herself sink into it.

“We’re getting married,” Annabeth said breathlessly, when they finally separated. 

“We’re getting married,” Percy agreed, grinning. 

So, maybe the institution of marriage was weird and a little sexist in origin and reminded Annabeth of old prophecies and old promises. But that was in the past. Percy was the future,  her  future, and wanted to have every single moment possible with him. 

They were going to go to Vegas, and hire a random guy dressed as a 50s rockstar off the street and have Piper make the whole thing as ridiculous as possible. And then they were going to live the rest of their lives together, maybe as the Jackson-Chases, (or if she had her way the Chase-Jacksons), and she would finally have a word to describe Percy besides “boyfriend” which had been woefully inadequate for years.

Plus, her rebate next year was going to be  awesome. 

Annabeth grinned. Maybe marriage wasn’t so bad after all. 

#trying a new posting format just for funsies #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth oneshot #Annabeth chase #percy jackson #percy x annabeth #percabeth fluff #annabeth x percy #proposal fic #if Annabeth seems OOC it's because I'm ✨projecting✨ #i wrote this completely forgetting about her something permanent thing i was just focusing on the abandonment issues lmao #i think this is a reasonable interpretation though? idk lol #my fic

[buck-nialled]

All Shook Up - T. Holland (01)

NOTE: fuck it, let’s start a new series! a fifties au featuring poindexter!tom x cheerleader!reader, and also a meanie harrison. let me know if i should continue this!

TAGLIST: @niallberry @swiftmendeshoran​ @theshyspy @clarabsevero @golden-hoax @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @organicpurplepants @wowitsel @sunwardsss

CH I. LONELY BOY

“Hey Poindexter,” the brunette turns away from his locker, eyes scanning over all of the gelled haircuts and letterman jackets for the nasally voice no doubt summoning his attention. “Where’d ya get those glasses? Geeks “R” Us?” Tom only groans quietly to himself before facing his small cubicle once more. As he tried drowning out the shrill laughs coming from the clan of girls adorning poodle skirts congesting the tiled corridor, the boy takes a sharp inhale through the nose at the sight of a hand slamming the door to his locker closed.

“How goes it, Poindexter?” Tom had suffered enough regular visits from Harrison to know two things. One was to never make eye contact in fear of earning a shiner and a broken pair of specs to trash, and the second was how to ensure he would live another day. “I’m here for my fee.” The proximity between the two allowed Tom a deep whiff of the tobacco Harrison was chewing that morning. Pushing a gag back down his throat, Tom nodded and hastily swung his knapsack around to sift through it. A few moments of silence pass when Tom’s hand zips the first pocket to his bag back up and tries the next one.

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Harrison tilts his head in a taunting manner, adding “you know what happens when you don’t have my fee.” Tom curls his toes as Harrison’s fist collides with the door of Tom’s locker a couple of times. The boy shivers at the memory of the last time his lanky body was crammed mercilessly and without regard into the small space. He missed three periods and was forced to wait for the janitor to pass by and hear him pleading for somebody--anybody--to set him free.

“I-I have it...I know I put it somewhere in here…” his trembling hands reached the zipper to the smallest pocket, which thankfully held enough for his lunch. Or, in this case, Harrison’s lunch.

“Ah, thanks, Poindexter.” Tom eyes the hand attached to the leather-clad arm snatch the bills from his scrawnier one. “Try to be quicker tomorrow, eh?” He can only nod in response, feeling the bell to first period vibrate his core. He trudges to first period with his head hung low, already suffering a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut that today would be no good. No day at school ever was for Tom. He accepted that from the very first day he stepped into class lacking a proper haircut and twenty-twenty vision, he would be the pet of every teacher and the butt of every joke, whether he liked it or not.

“I never liked fish stick Friday, anyway.” He says to himself before approaching his usual seat towards the front of the classroom. It was the desk every student feared; apparently, the wooden seat had a stigma for sticking out to the teacher, who would call on whoever sat in it. More recently, it had grown attractive to his peers’ eyes for being infected with “nerd germs”. Truthfully, Tom didn’t think himself all that smart compared to his classmates. The only difference he could academically between himself and those occupying the desks around him was that he put forth real effort into his assignments, especially those which excited him. Sometimes he becomes certain he missed a memo about only being excited over last night’s football game or the malt shop’s new jukebox.

On the way to his desk, Tom couldn’t focus his eyes anywhere except the bright red lipstick complementing Y/N Y/L/N’s lips. He supposes admiring her was an activity he and the rest of the school did enjoy together. And Tom could not blame anybody for their disposition towards the girl. Being head cheerleader with the niftiest poodle skirts in Midtown history were perks that drew eyes and fished for compliments, unlike Tom and his four-eyed, shaggy hair appearance. Tom’s quirked lips fell as he witnessed the sight of Y/N’s opening to chat with Harrison, who claimed the seat beside hers. He tried to pull himself away from the sight by finally sitting his rump down in the chair and reading the list of assignments written on the chalkboard by the teacher, but his ears refused to leave the conversation alone.

Amidst her melodious giggles, Tom heard Y/N and Harrison discussing the big football game tonight. “It’s gonna be bitchin’,” he caught Harrison’s deep voice poking through the rest of the pre-class chatter, “especially since I’ll have you cheering for me.”

“Alright class,” the instructor starts, before taking the roll of the class. Afterward, she sets her clipboard down and clasps her hands together. “Let’s get down to it. It’s time for the annual science fair!” A chorus of groans echoes throughout the concrete walls, but Tom straightens himself up in his seat. This assignment was his favorite of all his classes for many reasons. It was no surprise that each year he wins by a landslide in comparison to the other projects, but he also has the freedom to do it completely by himself.

“This year will be different from the last years, however, because you all will be partnering up with somebody else from this class.” Tom’s shoulders slump, his lips parting in surprise. He was preparing himself to be the last choice of everybody in the classroom. Though it was guaranteed that he would lead himself and his partner to a blue ribbon, nobody would risk social suicide to willingly choose him. “And, before you all flip your lid about who you want to partner with, I will be choosing them for you.” Another series of whines leaves many of the students, leaving the teacher to hush their protests and reach the jar of popsicle sticks located on her desk.

Her voice calling out a succession of names becomes muffled to Tom’s ears. He crosses his fingers beside his legs, scrunching his eyes closed and silently praying for somebody feasible to work with--or really, somebody who isn’t Harrison.

“Harrison Osterfield and…” Her fingers dip back into the jar, stirring the wooden sticks around in a manner Tom is sure is meant to torture him. “Jacob Batalon.” The brunette allows a relieved breath to seep past his lips and hears the two teammates celebrating behind him. Little did they know, Tom was having an internal celebration of his own.

“Y/N Y/LN…” All of the unsaid names in the class, Tom included, held their breath for the lucky person to be drawn. Tom eyes the instructor’s manicured fingers dive back down, swirling all of the possible partners around. Tom shuts his eyes and debates the possibility of his name being drawn. Would it be nice to work with a paper shaker who—more or less—presents herself as an airhead? Yes. But is it worth enduring a possible beating from Harrison if he stole his favorite cheerleader from him? Tom isn’t sure.

Luckily, he didn’t have to debate any further as the teacher drew the next stick, proclaiming, “Diana Ross.” Tom’s eyes darted around the classroom trying to spot Diana Ross in one of the desks, but only found other puzzled stares in return.

“Um,” a friend of Y/N’s who sat on the other side of her in the back of the classroom raised her hand, “I don’t think she’s in this class, Mrs. Weatherby.”

“Oh, my!” Mrs. W giggles to herself. “Her name must have gotten mixed up with your class by mistake. Thank you for correcting me, Barbara. Miss Y/L/N, your actual partner will be...Tom Holland.” Tom nearly gets whiplash from his neck shooting up at such a fast rate. The boy feels his cheeks go red as he turns around in his seat to send his partner a shy wave.

Barbara leans over to Y/N, her mouth agape. “Oh, my stars. You have to be partners with Poindexter?!”

Science class came to an end before Tom could even muster the courage to properly introduce himself to Y/N. In the classes that followed after, he was imagining every possible scenario of how working with the school’s queen would play out. She could leave him to do all of the work. Maybe she would actually give her input on parts of the project too. The worst scenario that came to mind featured Y/N hating anything Tom brought to the table and ultimately earning the two of them a big fat ‘F’ in Mrs. Weatherby’s grade book. By lunchtime, Tom felt sick to his stomach from the smell of lukewarm fish sticks and these various figments.

He approaches the table Y/N is sitting at with her fellow cheerleaders and leather jacket clan, clearing his throat before speaking. “Hey, Y/N.” The clatter of silverware on plastic trays halts as all eyes turn to scan Tom’s frame up and down in dislike. Y/N studies all of the expressions being delivered to her partner and scoffs.

“Hey, poindexter. What are you doin’ over here?” Her voice saying his—unofficial—name still cues him to gulp down his nerves.

“I came to talk to you about the project, so we can figure out what we’re gonna do.” Her friends kept glancing between the two, absorbing every detail of the conversation.

“Uh...okay…” Y/N concedes, standing from her seat at the lunch table. She wipes her hand down the front of her pink, poodle skirt before grabbing hold of her lunch sack and following Peter to an empty table nearby. He tries not to train his eyes on how her hands reach around toward her backside to smooth the skirt down again before taking a seat.

“So what do you want to do?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “What do you usually do?” Peter eyes her hands as they open the brown lunch bag, removing a sandwich and an apple.

“Well, last year I did a study on kinetic energy--”

“Cool, let’s just do that.” She decides, taking a bite from her sandwich.

“What? No. I just said I did that last year.” She rolls her eyes.

“Do you really think they’d notice if you did it again?” Considering he won with his presentation last year, Tom wouldn’t bet on sneaking past the teacher with the same exact concept.

“Yes.” The boy nods his head furiously. “Look, why don’t we just meet up later?” He suggests, only to receive a head shake.

“No can do. The cheerleading captain needs to be present for practice and the game tonight. Unless you want to show up and talk during the game.” She snorts, meeting Tom’s stoic expression.

“What’s so funny?”

“No offense, Poindexter--”

“Tom. My name’s Tom.” He interjects sharply.

“Right. Let’s be honest, you would never show up to a football game for enjoyment. You haven’t even been to one of ours.”

“You don’t know that!” The boy argues but slumps down in his seat as Y/N lifts an eyebrow.

“Really...do you even know our school’s mascot?”

“I...that’s irrelevant.” Tom disputes, face heating underneath her hypnotizing stare. “And for all you know, I could have come to a game to watch.”

“Nope. You haven’t.”

“Really, and how would you know?”

“Because I…” Y/N pauses spewing her argument. Tom sits patiently, eyeing the paper shaker whose mouth remained agape.

“Well?”

“B-because it’s my job as a head cheerleader to keep the crowd entertained at all times. That also includes knowing who’s in the crowd. And I’ve never seen you on our bleachers.”

“Well, you will tonight. Because I’ll be there. And we can figure out what to do then.” From what Y/N had heard of Tom around school, the boy didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body. But something about keeping his word to this level seemed fanatical. Even picturing the lanky boy in his plaid shirt and specs slouching on the cool metal seats proved to be difficult for Y/N.

She narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “Whatever you say, Tom.” His name sounded foreign falling from anybody’s tongue except his parents. But he won’t lie, it made his insides flutter from her acknowledgment. He gazed at Y/N grabbing her lunch sack and departing from the conversation until she reached her original seat near her friends. She smoothed out her skirt once again before plopping down in between Harrison and Barbara and flickered her eyes up to meet Tom’s.

Immediately, both looked away. Y/N, to her lunch sack which she was now ripping open to occupy her eyes, and Tom down to his fingers. Seconds pass before Y/N slyly peeks up again, and notices now that the boy is sitting alone and without a tray or bag of food.

She leans next to Barbara’s ear, murmuring. “H-hey, does Poindexter always go without eating?” Maybe that’s why his arms never properly fill out the sleeves of his sweaters, or why his belt always needs extra notches from a pocket knife, she thinks to herself.

“Who cares?” Barbara inquires between obnoxious chews of her pink bubblegum. “Maybe it’s a new nerd diet or something.” Y/N only hums but feels her eyes narrowing down in suspicion yet again. Harrison nudges her shoulder, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Will you wear my jacket tonight at the game? It’d only feel right to leave it in your hands.” The boy smirked, trailing his eyes up and down her figure.

“Absolutely.” A smile crawls onto her lips as she stares at his wandering eyes. She cannot fight the fact that hers want to do the same, and they flicker back over to where Tom was sitting, only to find the table clear.

She wonders if tonight will be the night she looks for his face in the crowd and finally finds it.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

[jasontoddiefor]

nobody's keeping score

Ship: HideKane

Summary: In a world where ink stains the white papers of constitutions, damning the lives of ghouls, their existence is no secret or rumor, but a topic of heated debate, protests, and anonymous organ donations in shady alleys. No matter how bright the CCG appears in their white coats, their light cannot reach the dark tunnels where ghouls and sympathizers alike are plotting. And when Hide, after hours of sitting at his best friend’s hospital bed, sees him wake with one eye black and red, the difficult question is not how to get him help, but how to avoid him becoming the figurehead of a conflict threatening to turn into a bloody revolution.

AN: Notes: You ever just take a 4-year break from a fandom and return with spite fic because you remembered how much you hated canon? Yeah. This fanfic is my attempt at corralling the TG worldbuilding into something coherent that makes sense. I will keep some elements of canon, others I will throw out of the window straight away. This is utterly self-indulgent.

“And with the developments in synthetic meat production—”

Hide wanted to groan. They’d been discussing the same question for the last three hours of class and he was, frankly speaking, done with it. People were running out of arguments and circling back to topics that didn’t contribute anything to the conversation they were supposed to be having. From the way their lecturer was glaring at the latest speaker, Hide would say that she was also very done.

“Yoshimura, as stated before, we are not discussing possibilities for ghoul integration, but the mere premise of whether they even deserve the rights needed to legalize their status as citizens. The right of existence of an individual should not be dependent on what modifications would have to be made to accommodate them, but whether they deserve to live regardless.”

Hide had zoned out about an hour ago. His opinion on ghouls had always felt rather clinical, mathematically detached, despite Hide’s history. Maybe too much time had passed since he’d looked at the bloody remains of his father to really hammer home the fear-motivated rejection so many people fell to. Perhaps the CCG investigators, who had dragged him away from his father’s corpse, should have allowed him to get a little more traumatized before the kindness of his new parents had become enough to dull those painful memories.

Some ghouls were no different than brutal serial killers, and they had to be taken down, but the rest seemed to be getting by just fine. If a new legislation would make it even easier for them to go about their everyday lives, perhaps the number of violent ghoul attacks would go down as well. Hide was well aware that this was the view of a privileged person. Growing up in the 20th ward meant that you needn’t be scared of leaving your house when it was already dark. Kamii University prided itself on the fact that it could safely offer evening classes such as the one Hide was attending now. The same certainly couldn’t be said for the other wards. Any citizen between the 9th and 13th wards would probably advocate vocally for the extermination of ghouls. The 11th especially resembled a warzone even during the daylight. Ghoul sightings were nothing unusual there, and investigators’ mutilated bodies were displayed as trophies and warnings alike. Meanwhile, nobody had died in the 20th war for something like ten odd years. Sometimes it felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop, but most of the time, Hide didn’t even think about ghouls.

By the time class was finally over, Hide had taken only one or two more bullet points. They hadn’t really said anything of interest and it reflected in his writing. Usually, Hide would be sending rapid-fire texts to Kaneki now, but his friend was still on his date and Hide didn’t want to bother him. It had taken more than just a bit of teasing and probing to get Kaneki to ask that girl out and he wouldn’t self-sabotage his hard work.

It was good that Kaneki was connecting to people that weren’t just Hide.

And it would be awesome if Hide could do the same.

Codependence needed two people to work and Kaneki was definitely not the only one struggling with independence. Hide had yet to figure out how to let go of Kaneki when his relationship to the other boy had been the only stable thing in his world for the longest time. Nothing said mental health like latching onto an abused child to escape the stifling air of his brand-new foster fathers’ home.

The next time he visited his parents, he’d bring them some flowers to make up for how troublesome he’d been as a child.

Glancing at his phone again, Hide realized he had to hurry if he wanted to take the early bus home. He was just about to plug in his headphones when an unknown number flashed up on the display. Who would call him at this time? Hide was definitely someone who preferred texting. Even his parents knew better than to call unless it was serious. The only person he ever actually called was Kaneki, and that was only because his friend sometimes got so lost in a book, he forgot to text back or didn’t even hear the phone buzz. Hide contemplated picking up for another ring, then gave in and accepted. “Nagachika Hideyoshi speaking, who’s calling?”

“Hello, I am Tanaka Akako, a nurse of the Kanou General Hospital. You are Nagachika Hideyoshi, Kaneki Ken’s emergency contact?”

The blood in Hide’s veins froze.

“Yes, I am. Has— has anything happened? Is Kaneki alright!?”

The nurse’s voice was so calm, steady, and pleasant as if this was a chat between friends. Somewhere Hide knew that it probably helped most people, but it just put him on edge. “Nagachika-san, your friend and another young woman were involved in an accident. Dr. Kanou is preparing him for surgery, but as his emergency contact, we have to discuss the possible options before we can proceed.”

Hide didn’t want to discuss any options. There shouldn’t be any besides Kaneki’s survival. Hide wanted to rush into the operation hall and hold Kaneki’s hand, wishing he could turn back time, tell his friend to remain at his side and consider that girl out of his league so he’d spent the evening with him and not getting sent to ER. This couldn’t be real; he was sick to his stomach.

“What are the options?” Hide asked, panic threatening to strangle him as he rushed to the street, trying to find a taxi to take him to Kanou General straightaway.

“Kaneki-san sustained serious injuries. Dr. Kanou is willing to transplant the deceased Kamishiro-san’s organs into your friend to save his life even if her family hasn’t consented yet. The only consent we can ask for in Kaneki-san’s case is yours and—”

“Do it,” Hide replied immediately. He didn’t know Kaneki’s date, and as much as Hide loved people, argued for a baseline acceptance every day in class, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the wishes of a family whose daughter was already dead. The only thing they were still good for once their hearts stopped beating was serving the living with their remains.

Kaneki might survive because of her; what else could matter? “Do it, whatever you need to save him— you have my full permission.”

Finally, a taxi approached and stopped right when Hide waved for it. He quickly climbed inside and, paying no attention to the driver, told him to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.

“And in case he doesn’t survive, may his organs—”

“He will survive,” Hide pressed because he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he were to lose Kaneki. He’d built a life around his best friend and how much they meant to one another. Hide couldn’t give up on that, couldn’t let it slip past his fingers. “He’ll survive. I know it.”

Organ transplants took place every day without any complications—

Hide’s eyes widened. “Kaneki has recessive ROS!” he all but shouted at the nurse, startling the taxi driver.

Kaneki’s father had died because of it. If Kaneki got the wrong blood transfusions or anything, his RC cells were suddenly pushed to start acting up, the dormant sickness could turn on and what if Hide had just damned him to a life of wasting away—

No.

Stay positive. Don’t freak out even more. They hadn’t done anything yet, merely asked for Hide’s permission to help Kaneki at all. He was saving his friend’s life; he wasn’t cursing him.

“Thank you for telling me, Nagachika-san. I will pass that on to Dr. Kanou. You have just contributed immensely to the safety of the procedure.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Hide said. “Just— he has to hold on. Tell Kaneki he has to hold on until I’m there.”

“We will, Nagachika-san, don’t worry. Dr. Kanou will do his best.”

His best.

The words echoed in Hide’s mind. How was he ever supposed to know if Kanou’s best would be enough for his friend? Hide excelled at being optimistic, could see the positive side of most things in life, had learned how to be hopeful at the funerals of people he’d loathed. He just couldn’t allow himself to drown in any negative possibilities.

The rest of the drive passed in the blur, either because the driver had known to speed up after listening in on the phone call, or because Hide was so out of it that he didn’t really register the streetlamps flickering by until the taxi had reached its destination. Hide passed the driver a couple bills, probably more than the transport had actually cost, but he didn’t care. What were one or two skipped meals compared to being there before it was too late? Hide rushed inside the sterile white hospital, eyes immediately set on the front desk.

“My friend,” Hide stuttered as he clung to the counter, holding it as if it were his lifeline. “He was brought in— an accident. He was on a date and there was an accident. Dr. Kanou is operating him?”

The receptionist seemed confused, needing a moment to make something coherent out of Hide’s rambles. “I need your identification before I can tell you anything about our patients.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Hide fumbled for his student ID card and put it on the counter with shaky hands. “Nagachika Hideyoshi, I’m Kaneki Ken’s emergency contact.”

“Of course, your friend is still in the operating room. You can wait here.”

Hide didn’t want to wait, but what else was there he could do? He hated feeling useless like this, unable to contribute anything productive. The receptionist sent him a kind look and, defeated, Hide crossed the entrance hall to the waiting room where he remained together with other worried family members and patients, clutching his phone so he wouldn’t start screaming. He couldn’t stop moving his legs, stress keeping him wide awake even as the hospital emptied and less and less people sat around him. How long did such an operation take? An hour? Two? Hide had absolutely no idea. He didn’t study anything like this. His major was English literature, which was about as helpful as hot air at this moment.

He could quote enough books concerned with some medical drama and family members in the hospital, but none of them brought him any comfort.

“Nagachika-san?”

Hide looked up into the kind face of an elderly man wearing a pristine white coat.

“Y- yes?” Hide replied and quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. “Are you Dr. Kanou? Is my friend alright? Can I see him?”

“I am sorry to have caused you such worries. The operation went well. Your friend is resting in intensive care right now. He is still asleep, but you may visit him. The presence of loved ones is often very beneficial to the healing process.”

Healing.

A sob shook Hide’s shoulders. Kaneki was alive. He hadn’t died.

“Thank you,” he managed to say in between his sobs. “Thank you, thank you for saving his life.”

The doctor only kept on smiling and kindly put his hand on Hide’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly in what was meant to be comforting. “It is my job, young man. You don’t have to thank me. Nothing is more important to me than saving innocent lives. If you follow one of the nurses, you can see your friend immediately.”

Hide thanked the doctor once more, relief slowly filling the pits anxiety had hollowed out. He followed the nurse through the labyrinth of death, decay, healing, and salvation up to the intensive care station. Quietly, he was led to a room. The door opened, revealing one lone figure on a bed.

From a distance, hooked up with so many tubes and wires, Kaneki was nothing like the person who took up half of Hide’s life. He seemed so much smaller and looked like just one push could snap his connection to life.

“Please remain quiet,” the nurse told him. “And don’t move him.” Glancing at his still trembling fingers, she added, “but you may hold his hand.”

Hide nodded, then quickly crossed the room to Kaneki’s bed and sat down on the chair next to it. Kaneki didn’t move at all; not even a single muscle twitched. Hide would assume they had led him to view his friend’s corpse if not for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Pushing up the sleeves of his jacket, Hide took Kaneki’s hand in his own.

“Hey, Ken,” he muttered, pressing his eye close so no tears would escape them. “You scared me there. Don’t ever do that again.”

Predictably, Kaneki didn’t reply. Nevertheless, Hide imagined that just for a moment, he squeezed Hide’s hand back. Slowly, the tension bled from Hides’s shoulders and he made himself comfortable in the hard plastic chair. This was bound to be a long night and he was starting to feel his exhaustion catch up to him. He tried to keep his eyes trained on his friend for as long as possible, remaining alert for a change to his condition, but it was getting more and more difficult to keep them open.

Eventually, the darkness caught him as he fell. Hide knew he stirred a couple more times during the night, likely when the nurses came to check on Kaneki. Nobody asked him to move and leave, something he was immensely thankful for. He wouldn’t have been able to let go. By the time the sun began to chase away the shadows again, Hide wasn’t sure how much he had slept, only that it had definitely not been enough. But that was alright, he could catch up on sleep sometime later. It was far more important that Kaneki was going to be alright.

Hide turned to look at Kaneki’s face and found his friend awake, staring back at him.

One eye gray like a stormy cloud before the morning rainfall.

The other was blood-red against the night sky.

#tokyo ghoul #hideyoshi nagachika #kaneki ken #tg #hidekane #fanfic #what UP i'm back with spite fic #also on ao3 #but i will add the link later bc tumblr likes to mess up

[orangeoctopi7]

Spiderstan AU Chapter 12

RESEARCH

No one was in a good mood the next morning. Stan was still nursing a huge headache as he recovered from the last bits of Gremloblin neurotoxin. Ford was still cross with Stan for endangering himself and Fiddleford the previous day, as well as a bit distracted thinking about what Bill could possibly be sending him. And poor Fiddleford had obviously not slept a wink last night, although whether that was due to discomfort from the broken arm or anxiety after the Gremloblin attack was unclear. 

“Are either of you feeling up to retrieving our supplies?” Ford asked as they all poked at a breakfast of instant oatmeal.

“No.” Stan grumbled into his bowl, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he could draw the tension out from behind his eyes.

“...Fiddleford?” Ford asked when his friend didn’t respond. The inventor looked up with a start.

“Wh-what?” he reacted as though someone had just threatened him.

“I just want to know if you’re feeling up to going back up the hill and retrieving the supplies we had to leave behind.”

McGucket fidgeted with the sling that was holding his broken arm in place. “N-n-no, no I don’t think so.”

Ford frowned with concern. “Alright. I should be able to manage on my own with the amulet of levitation. Stanley, could you at least take Fiddleford to the hospital, so you can get a professional to set it and provide a proper cast?”

“Waste of money, if y’ask me.” Stan grunted.

“I didn’t ask you.” Ford hissed. “Fiddleford, I suppose it’s your own choice whether you want to go see a doctor or not.”

“No! I’m not crazy! I’m not seein’ no shrink!” his friend snapped.

“...I meant for your arm.” Stanford clarified, after a moment of stunned silence.

“...Oh. R-right…. Yeah… r-reckon I oughta…” 

“Look, buddy, if you don’t wanna go to the hospital, no judgement here.” Stan assured the inventor. “And if you do wanna go, I’ll drive ya, just don’t expect me to come in with you.”

“They don’t charge you for sitting in the waiting room, Stan.” Ford rolled his eyes.

“No, but if I ask for a cup of water, they’d probably add it to your bill.” Stan countered.

Ford stood and grabbed his coat, along with a small turquoise stone set in a brass broach. “Well, you two work out what you want to do. I’m going to go retrieve our things.”

“Try not to get yourself killed while you’re off on your own, ok?” Stan called after him as he left.

“I’ll be fine, mom!”

Stan and McGucket just sat chewing their oatmeal for another moment or two before either of them spoke again.

“So, uh, just to be clear, did you want me to drive you to the hospital, or…?”

“Oh, I reckon I should go.” McGucket nodded, more confident this time. “Mainly ‘cuz this make-shift cast an’ sling Stanford made fer me ain’t ‘xactly comfer’ble. A professional one’ll prob’ly be better protection, too.”

“Alright, we’ll go in a minute, just lemme finish eating.”

“While we’re out, I think we oughta talk ‘bout Stanford’s, uh, mysterious friend.”

Stan grimaced. “Yeah. I think that thing was here again last night. I was too out of it to go check, though.”

“Does it show up every night?” McGucket asked anxiously.

“Nah, I only felt it a few times while you were gone.” Stan informed him. “And two of those were during the day. I dunno what that thing’s deal is.”

“That’s ‘xactly why we gotta learn more ‘bout it.” the inventor. “It don’t seem like Ford’s gonna be very forthcoming with information, so we’ll have to start askin’ around the town.”

“How do we do that in a way that, y’know, doesn’t make people think we’re crazy?”

Fiddleford flinched at Stan’s words, and he needed a few seconds to regain his composure.

“Like I said before, lots’a Native American artefacts round the valley have that one-eyed triangle on it. I’m sure if’n we just ask people if they know what it is or where it comes from, act like we’re jus’ interested in the history, that won’t turn no heads.”

“Yeah, cuz I’m sure people will believe a guy like me is just interested in history.”

“Why not? Nobody here knows you ‘cept maybe as Ford’s brother, if they don’t just mistake you for ‘im outright. It ain’t that hard to believe.”

Stan opened his mouth to argue, but Fiddleford had a point. Maybe this would work.

* * *

After dropping Fiddleford off at the hospital, Stan started asking around about the yellow triangle thing. While most folks at least recognized the symbol when Stan drew it, no one really knew where it came from or what it was, other than something associated with the illuminati. Nobody knew about its connections to local Native American folklore. Stan supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, it wasn’t like he expected the hospital receptionist to be an expert on Native American history.

Thankfully, Fiddleford’s checkup didn’t take too long. Stan had just wrapped up a conversation with an old farmer when the inventor stepped back into the waiting room, wearing a new cast.

“Any luck?” McGucket asked as they climbed back into Stan’s car.

“No. Shockingly, none of these yokels know anything about our mysterious visitor.”

“Hmmm, I reckon we’ll have better luck researchin’ at the library.”

Stan groaned loudly.

“What’ve you got against libraries?” Fiddleford asked, like an insult to the library was as bad as a personal insult.

“Nothin’, libraries are great, they’re some place I can go for air conditioning or heating and just sit around for a few hours without raisin’ a fuss. What I ain’t a fan of is researching.”

Fiddleford chuckled and shook his head. “Well, lucky for you I’m plenty experienced in that department. S’pose you could chat with the librarians while I do the book research.

The library was nearly empty, considering it was the middle of the day on a Wednesday. Of course, that meant the librarians weren’t too preoccupied to answer some questions. One helped Fiddleford search the catalog for books on the local tribes’ history and folklore, while the other talked to Stan.

“Ah yes, you see a lot of this figure in ancient art.” The librarian nodded. “Many people erroneously assume it’s a Freemason or illuminati symbol, but it actually becomes much less common after European contact.”

“Why’s that?” Stan asked.

“Hmm, I’ll admit I don’t know. We haven’t got access to any recordings of local oral tradition. Although I’ve heard many Native American communities are starting to tape that sort of thing. If you really want to know the original story behind that symbol, you should go to the original source!”

“Yeah, cuz I’m sure they’re eager to share the story with some random white guy.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure as long as you’re respectful, they’d just be happy someone is taking an interest. Warm Springs Reservation is only about an hour and a half drive from here, they’re a confederation of Tenino, Wasco, and Paiute tribes. They have a museum, you should go pay them a visit.”

Respectful wasn’t usually in Stan’s vocabulary, but he supposed this case was an exception.

Seeing as the librarian didn’t have much more info for Stan, he contented himself with browsing the library’s comics section while Fiddleford did his book research. The nerd took much less time than Stan had been expecting.

“This library’s collection of local Native American folklore ain’t what I’d call extensive.” Fiddleford shook his head, “I was only able to find a couple of tangential references to the thing. All I got is it’s associated with knowledge.”

“Hmph, no wonder Ford’s buddy-buddy with it.”

“What ‘bout you, did the librarian have any more info for ya?”

“Not really, but she did recommend I go visit the nearest reservation and check out their museum. Not a bad idea really, ‘snot like we’ve gotten any info from anyone else. Plus, I bet they’ve got a casino!”

“That’s not really gonna help us figure anything out.”

“No, but it’ll help me blow off steam. Besides, Ford’ll be suspicious if I suddenly wanna visit a Native American museum. I’m coverin’ my tracks.”

* * *

Thanks to Ford’s photographic memory and stopping to get directions from a passing gnome, the young researcher was able to find their gear and carry it back to Fiddleford’s truck in just a few hours. Retracing his steps brought back memories of their hike, both good and bad. That night around the campfire had been nice, talking about their plans for the future, joking with Stan… but then the next morning, he’d overhead his friends talking behind his back.

“...And while you were on vacation, he kinda implied he wasn't up here alone before you moved in. I think this has been going on for a while. Maybe even years. Did you ever notice anything weird right after you moved in?"

"Other than that creepy triangle symbol everywhere? Not really…"

Ford grit his teeth, and the levitating objects in front of him wobbled. Didn’t they trust him? Even if he couldn’t tell them about Bill, couldn’t they at least understand that he was just doing what he could to further their research? Why did they automatically assume Bill was dangerous?

“...They could have at least asked me…” The researcher muttered under his breath.

“WELL, THEY COULD HAVE, BUT WE BOTH KNOW YOU WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO GIVE THEM A STRAIGHT ANSWER.”

“Bill!” Ford startled in surprise.

“HEYA SIXER, THOUGHT I’D COME KEEP YOU COMPANY WHILE YOU PICK UP AFTER YOUR BROTHER’S MESS.”

“Thank you, Bill, I appreciate it.” Ford smiled gratefully.

“HEY, WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR! NOT LIKE THOSE JERKS WHO LEFT YOU TO DO THIS ON YOUR OWN.”

“Well, that’s not their fault. They’re both still recovering from the Gremloblin attack yesterday.”

“SO, WHAT’S EATIN’ YA, SIXER? BESIDES YOUR OWN BODY’S METABOLISM SLOWLY BURNING ITSELF OUT.”

Ford sighed. “I just wish I could tell them about you. It’d make things so much easier!”

Bill tisked. “THEIR REACTION TO MY HELP AT THE ALIEN SHIP IS PROOF ENOUGH, THEY JUST WOULDN’T GET IT.”

“But if I had a chance to explain--”

“WE’VE ALREADY DISCUSSED THIS, FORDSY. EVEN IF THEY DO TAKE YOUR EXPLANATION SERIOUSLY AND DON’T THINK YOU’VE FINALLY LOST IT, ARE YOU REALLY NAIVE ENOUGH TO BELIEVE THEY’LL JUST GO ON SUPPORTING YOU? WE BOTH KNOW WHAT STANO’S LIKE WHEN YOU’RE ABOUT TO MOVE ON TO SOMETHING BIGGER AND BETTER. AND FOUR-EYES ALREADY ADMITTED TO YOUR FACE HE’D RATHER BE WORKING ON HIS OWN PROJECTS BACK HOME WITH HIS FAMILY. YOU REALLY THINK HE WOULDN’T TAKE THE FACT THAT YOU’VE GOT ME AS A SIGN HE’S OK TO PACK UP AND HEAD BACK HOME?”

“N-no, he wouldn’t… I still need his help!”

“HMMM, MAYBE YOU’RE RIGHT. MAYBE HE’D HELP HIMSELF TO YOUR PRELIMINARY RESEARCH AND PUBLISH IT HIMSELF FIRST.”

“Fiddleford’s my friend, he wouldn’t do that!”

“OH RIGHT, I FORGOT! YOU TWO ARE SUCH GOOD FRIENDS YOU’D NEVER LIE TO EACH OTHER OR TALK BEHIND THE OTHER’S BACK!”

Ford did not have a good rationalization for that.

“I’M JUST SAYING, STANFORD, BE CAREFUL WHO YOU TRUST!”

* * *

Stan and McGucket were helping themselves to a late lunch when Ford returned with their equipment. 

“So you went to the hospital after all.” Ford observed, nodding at Fiddleford’s new cast.

“Oh, yep…” Fiddleford answered. The inventor still seemed anxious and distracted.

“How long did they say you’d need to wear the cast?”

“‘Bout a week…” Fiddleford tapped his foot nervously.

Ford frowned. “I was hoping we’d be able to start connecting the hyperdrive to the portal tonight, but I supposed Stanley could help lift the superstructure.”

“Mmmnope.” Stanley declined. “I’m headin’ out to the casino tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“To gamble, genius, what do you think I’m gonna do at a casino?”

“No, I mean… why do you feel the need to go to a casino?”

“Have a little fun, make a little cash.”

“...Is this because I still haven’t gone grocery shopping?”

“What!? No, for cryin’ out loud, Ford, I just wanna go out and spend a night on the town!”

“On a Wednesday?”

“Yeah, that’s how you beat the crowds! I figure I deserve a break after fighting a monster and getting poisoned!”

“Oh…” Ford deflated. “... that’s fair. But… you’re coming back afterwards, right?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, your latest specimen isn’t gonna fly the coop.”

Stanford frowned at his brother’s comment, but didn’t offer a retort. Instead he set about fixing his own late lunch. “So yet another day goes by where we make no progress on the portal project.”

“Stanford, I know yer eager to make your mark and get answers, but there really ain’t any reason we can’t take another day or two!” Fiddleford assured him. “There ain’t no ‘Weirdness Rush’ yet.”

“Perhaps, but one thing I’ve learned over the last six years here is that it’s far too easy to get distracted by every little fascinating thing one comes across here. If we don’t stay focused, we could easily keep putting it off until it just never gets done. I prefer to strike while the iron is hot.”

“Well, you keep striking iron, Ford.” Stan waved him off. “Tonight, I’m hopin’ to strike gold!”

* * *

After Stan left, the two scientists spent the night going over calculations and carefully inspecting the hyperdrive. Ford was disappointed they wouldn’t be able to start hooking it up to the mechanics of the portal just yet, but it was the kind of delicate mechanical work he only trusted McGucket with. He wished he had some more manual work to preoccupy his mind tonight. The young researcher had a hard time focusing on his calculations; his mind kept wandering to his brother.

If Stan won the jackpot, he’d be able to support himself. He wouldn’t have any more reason to stay here and work with me… Would he even come back? Would he even bother telling us?

Ford sighed with frustration as he realized he’d just read the same equation three times over. He really needed something to keep his hands occupied while he worked. He reached over to McGucket’s desk for what he often did when he needed something to keep his hands busy, and picked up his friend’s Cubics Cube. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed it still hadn’t been solved since the last time he scrambled it. He’d never seen Fiddleford leave it unsolved for more than a few hours. He glanced over to see the young inventor also seemed to be having trouble focusing on his work.

“You can’t concentrate either?” Ford asked, noticing how Fiddleford’s knee kept up a steady pace of 2 kbps, but his eyes stayed fixed at the top of the page he was supposed to be checking.

Fiddleford startled at his friend’s words. “S-sorry, jus’ tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

Ford offered him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t imagine so. I’m sure you’ll be on the mend soon enough though.”

“Mmm.” McGucket hummed noncommittally. “And how ‘bout you, what’s keepin’ you from concentratin’?” 

The researcher hemmed and hawed for a moment before he finally settled on an answer. “I suppose I’m a bit concerned with Stanley. I know he’s staying here because he’s got nowhere else to go, and I’m happy to give him a place to stay, but if things go well for him at the casino tonight… why would he stay here if he suddenly acquires the means to support himself?”

McGucket huffed a small chuckle and rolled his eyes. “It’s like I keep tellin’ ya Ford, you oughta be tellin’ him this stuff, and not me! If’n you really want him to stay, then you gotta be honest with him!”

“I-I am!” Ford insisted, willfully ignoring the fact that he was not, in fact, being honest about Bill. That didn’t count. He’d tell Stan if he thought Stan needed to know.

The inventor just rolled his eyes again. “Mama was right, can’t be honest with others if’n ya ain’t honest with yerself first.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean, ya lost yer temper with me the last time I brought it up!”

Ford scoffed. “I am not under some deluded hope that if Stan stays, it will magically solve our issues.”

Fiddleford nodded. “Yeah, it does seem like you two are past that point. Now you’re just wantin’ to keep him around ‘cuz he’s your brother and you’ll miss him!”

The atmosphere of the room instantly went cold, and the pages of calculations in Fords hands crinkled as his grip tightened. “I would absolutely. Never. Try and keep Stan around. Just because I would miss him.” He enunciated through clenched teeth. “I… I simply… I have his best interests in mind! And the interest of my research! But I’m not trying to keep him here! He’s free to leave! He--he’s free to pursue other interests!”

McGucked raised his hands placatingly. Obviously, he had touched a nerve. “I’m sorry, I misspoke! I jus’ meant to say you care about him is all!”

“Of course I care about him! When was that ever in question!?”

Fiddleford gave him a steady look. “When ya went more than ten years without talkin’ to each other.”

Ford flushed. “It’s not like Stanley ever reached out to me! And I was the one who had a regular address and phone number! How was I supposed to talk to him, when he was always traveling!? Even our mother never got more than the occasional postcard!”

“I’m not sayin’ yer brother’s blameless in this, Ford, I’m jus’ sayin’ you could stand to actually let him know how you feel!”

“I don’t even know how I feel half the time!” The researcher burst. He was stunned by his own words, and took a moment to collect his thoughts and calm down a bit before continuing. “Stanley’s my brother, and he was such an important part of my life growing up. Of course I care about him. But the things he’s done-- the things he still does-- the way he ignores what I want because he thinks he knows best-- it infuriates me! So I suppose you could say my feelings for him are… complicated.”

Fiddleford nodded. “Family’s always complicated.”

Ford scoffed derisively. “This is considerably more complicated than the average family squabble.” 

McGucket laughed. “You’re right about that! Well, if it makes ya feel any better, I’m pretty sure Stan ain’t gonna run out on ya tonight, even if he does win it big at that casino. He’s got unfinished business here, after all.”

“That’s an odd way to refer to our continued studies of his powers, but I suppose you’re right.”

* * *

The parking lot for the Warm Springs History Museum was completely empty. Not that the casino lot across the way was packed, but it at least had a few cars parked near the entrance. Stan worried the museum might be closed, but he saw the light was on, and the door was unlocked.

There didn’t appear to be another soul in the building. Stan wandered around from one exhibit to the next, looking for anything that might be related to Ford’s mysterious benefactor. Stan wasn’t really all that surprised that he didn’t find anything. Finally, he rounded a corner and found the gift shop. A teenage girl who was probably supposed to be the cashier sat in front of a small TV. It was clearly supposed to be playing a VHS that the gift shop was trying to sell, but instead an Itira 3600 was hooked up and playing Brick Break.

“Uh, ‘scuse me?” Stan cleared his throat and knocked gently on the counter.

The girl didn’t glance away from the screen, eyes carefully following the bouncing pixel as it broke through another line of bricks. “Yeah I know you’re there I can see your reflection on the screen. We close in like ten minutes, just grab whatever you want and I’ll ring you up once I clear this level.”

“I’m not here to buy anything.”

“Then you better turn around and head back to the casino, ‘cuz bricks ain’t the only thing I can break.” 

“I don’t want anything from you either!” Stan assured her, waving his hands innocently. “I just got some questions about, uh, tribal history.”

“That’s what this museum is here for, sir.” She answered flatly.

“The thing I’m askin’ about isn’t in the museum, trust me, I checked.”

“We got history books too.”

“I doubt it’s in there either. Hey, if you’re too busy, is there someone else I can talk to?”

The girl tisked and tilted her game controller. “Yeah yeah, just a sec. I just got one more line at the top.”

Stan rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently. He supposed he couldn’t blame the girl. This was probably a very boring job. He knew most people who came this way were probably more interested in the casino, not the history of the people who had to run it just to make ends meet.

The girl finally cleared the level and put her controller down as the new level loaded in. “Ok, what’s your question.”

“Ok, this might sound stupid, but can you tell me more about what this thing is?” Stan pulled a pamphlet off the counter and drew the triangle with the eye. “I think it’s usually yellow?”

The girl raised her eyebrow in surprise when she took in Stan’s drawing. “Oh… that. You don’t see anything about that in here because that’s associated with… I guess the best word for it would be curses?”

Stan’s heart skipped a beat. “R-really? The little research I did on it beforehand said it was associated with knowledge.”

“Yeah, cursed knowledge.” The girl told him. “I’ll admit, I’m not super familiar with it. It’s kinda really ancient. When Nathaniel Northwest swindled us out of our land in Gravity Falls, we were relative newcomers. All the other tribes in the area believed the valley was cursed, because of that thing.”

Stan gulped. “What, uh, what’d it do?”

The girl put on her best storytelling voice. “Well, a thousand years ago, there was an old shaman called Modoc the Wise. He and his people worshipped that being. Until one day, Modoc learned its terrible secret. Modoc warned the people that the being they’d been worshipping was a liar, and that it would lay waste to the valley. But before he could tell them any more, the being drove him mad, and he slaughtered half his tribe before lighting himself on fire to try and stop it!”

Stan paled. “So, uh, this guy’s really bad news, huh?”

“That’s an understatement, but yeah.” The girl nodded. “Why do you want to know, anyway?”

“Uh, I live in Gravity Falls. I’ve just seen this thing on a lot of stuff, wondered what it was.”

“Ah, well, have fun living with the knowledge that your hometown is cursed!” She smiled viciously at him. “Now, it’s closing time. Are you gonna buy something or not?”

* * *

Stan tried to take his mind off things at the casino. His superhuman reflexes made him a whiz at the slots, but he had learned in the past that winning too much tended to draw unwanted attention. Of course, Stan was too busy trying to process what he’d just learned to pay much attention to his gambling, so it’s not like he could have won it big even if he was trying.

After just half-an-hour, it was clear that his heart just wasn’t in it today. Stan decided to play a round of Craps before he left, just to get in some dice rolling. Then he’d head home.

Careful. He warned himself. Don’t go callin’ that place your home. You know the second you get comfortable there is the second Ford decides he doesn’t want you around anymore.

By the time he finished, Stan managed to leave with about $20 more in his pocket than when he came in, so it wasn’t a bad night, gambling-wise. And he had at least learned something about that triangle guy. It just wasn’t good news. The trip certainly wasn’t a loss. So why did Stan feel like he hadn’t gained anything?

These thoughts weighed so heavily on his mind, that he never noticed the eyes on him as he left the casino.

“We’ve found him.” A shadowy figure spoke into his walkie-talkie.

* * *

PSM WAZF FFY OENKGK KS LELB, TPXLL QAT? YOP HGR’T PQB KEDO TF UVDI GJ YFWY FPV JRZGUUW?

[sapphirelass]

What family is all about - Weasley FamilyxWeasley!Sister

Hiiiiiii!!! It’s... been a while. Again. Let’s face it, I’ll never be able to post as often as I’d like. I just don’t like rushing stuff, or posting anything I’m not happy with, so...

Anyhow, I LOVED writing for the Weasley family, and I’ll most likely do it again soon. Bill and Charlie are both underrated characters in my opinion and I had a ton of fun letting them ‘shine’ (despite this being a sort of sad story, but that always seems to be where I end up... XD)

Also, I might have to edit this once more, but it’s late, I have not posted in about two weeks and I just want to go to sleep XD That being said, take it for what it is, and I’ll try to correct any grammatical errors later. Good night! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 2800 (they just keep getting longer, don’t they? XD)

Warnings: Light swearing, blood, angst

Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s what family is all about 

“How big did his tongue get?”

“It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!”

The sound of laughter was heard from the kitchen as Elwira Weasley entered her childhood home. She worked as an arithmancer, and had been stationed at a research-facility in the northern parts of Sweden for the past few years. Her work took up most of her time, but she had just travelled home to go see the quidditch final with her dad, older brother Bill, twin brother Charlie and all their younger siblings.

“It isn’t funny”, her dad shouted. “That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of muggles, and my own sons-”

“Are just a wee bit too daft to understand that!”

She walked through the door and found her entire family, plus two other people she didn’t know, all sitting or standing around the kitchen table.

“Ellie?!”

Her older brother and twin, with whom she had always been extremely close, both made their way across the room and pulled her into a hug so tight she could barely breathe.

“Blimey! ‘ello Bill, hey Charlie! Long time no see, huh?”

“Certainly!”, their mother exclaimed while pushing the two oldest sons to the side as she tried to get a good look at her grown-up daughter. “Not a single visit since Christmas, Elwira Weasley, we’ve had to do with owls for six months?!”

“Sorry, mum, there’s been a lot of work to do… I thought I’d stay for the rest of the summer though, if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course, dear! Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I’m famished!”

Mrs Weasley went off to get another plate, and Ellie, after greeting everyone and being introduced to Harry and Hermione, took a seat between her dad and youngest brother.

“So Ronald? Had a good term?”

“Err.. Sure? Nothing interesting except for the stuff I wrote to you about, though.”

“Well you’re going into your fourth year now - almost halfway through!” She paused for a moment and turned to her father. “You good dad? You seem a bit… tense?”

Arthur looked up from his plate and sent his daughter a kind smile.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. Hosting the world cup comes with a great deal of problems all with the need to be solved. Admittedly, it’s not really part of my job, but the entire ministry becomes quite chaotic when something like that is days away. I’m a bit stressed, that’s all. How are things up in Scandinavia?”

“They’re… somewhat slow to be honest. There’s so much work to do between like October and February, but in the summer it’s mostly filing and other boring bits of paperwork.”

“Elwira?”, Hermione asked. “Sorry, I’m just curious, what is it that you do? Ron’s never told us…”

“That’s probably cause Ron doesn’t understand what I’m doing”, she smirked, “but of course, I work with, and study, arithmancy which, as you might know, is part of what’s called ‘natural magic’.”

“Great!”, mumbled Ron quietly, making sure only his friends and older sister heard. “Hermione, there are four rules in this house, okay? One: Don’t ask Charlie about dragons, Two: Don’t ask Percy about anything, Three: Don’t ask dad about muggles, and Four: Don’t ask Ellie about her job. Break either and you’ll be stuck listening to a five hour lecture.”

 Hermione didn’t seem to be bored though, so Ellie ignored her brother’s comment and continued. 

“It’s the type of magic that has been studied and worshiped since ancient times and has a very strong connection with nature. The natural phenomena with the strongest affiliation with magic is, while they in themselves have what the muggles would call a ‘scientific explanation’, the northern lights. Meaning it’s only when they’re visible that we can make any significant progress.”

Ellie paused and glanced at the younger girl, trying to see whether she had caught on or not, and was happy when realizing that she had.

“And... “, questioned Hermione, “the northern lights are only visible north of the polar circle and b-”

“Between September and March, exactly… Meaning there’s sadly not that much advanced research that can be done during the rest of the year…”

“It’s still a fascinating subject though. I only started last year, but I love it.”

“I’m glad! At least some people appreciate the wonderful art that is arithmancy, Ronald!”

Ron looked up at the mention of his name and met his sister’s gaze. 

“I just don’t find it interesting”, he said.  

“Right, because you ha-”

Ellie didn’t get to finish her sentence before being interrupted by her twin brother.

“Hey, Ellie? Must have been fun watching the Nordic versus Germany, huh?”

“Oh shut up, Charlie!”, she groaned while putting her head in her hands. “Holy Merlin…” The Nordic National Quidditch team, of which she had become a huge supporter in the last few years, had suffered a HORRENDOUS loss against Germany, and it had certainly not been a fun night. 

Her brother, however, did not shut up, but instead burst out laughing.  

“Charlie, it’s not funny!! You should have been there though… You’d have done a much better job than the stand-in seeker we had.”

“What were the results again? 700-20?”

“... 520 actually”

“520 to??”, Bill said mockingly

“You’re idiots both of you… 520-0, happy now?”

Ellie hadn’t realized that everyone else around the table had been listening in on their conversation, but was made aware when Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Arthur began laughing loudly.

“Why is this so funny to everyone? England lost badly too, and neither Romania nor Egypt even qualified to compete?!”

“Yeah...”, began Fred.

“But none of them lost with 520 points.”, finished George, earning himself a furious look from his older sister who stood up and shook her head.

“I’ll go see if mum needs any help…”

~~~~~~

Ellie loved her family, and therefore all her slightly annoying brothers, beyond everything, but being away from them for months and then meeting them all at the same time was TIRING! Having no desire to sleep through the world cup, she decided to go to bed early the night before, and she had barely closed her eyes before she fell asleep...

~~~~~~

“3, 2 ‘shhhh, quiet!”

Ellie took notice of the obnoxiously loud whispers, but it wasn’t enough to fully wake her up.

“We’ve got one more chance, 3, 2, 1, ELLIE!!!!”

She woke up instantly and sent a blast of blue sparks towards her older brother, barely missing him by an inch.

“What ‘ru doing, El? You can’t just go attacking people?!”

He tried to sound angry, but failed miserably, a heartwarming laugh escaping his mouth.

“You bloody idiots?! Why’d you scare me like that? You’re 21 and 23, not five?”

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it? Do you remember-”

“Yes, I do!”. She rubbed her eyes slowly, “‘85, look can you two please let me sleep?”

“Sorry, sis”, said Bill. “We’re leaving in half an hour. The kids and dad left ages ago.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to be late do you? Not when you can cheer for a team that might not loo-”

“Charlie, I swear!”

~~~~~~

The match was fantastic! Ellie would never admit it to her brothers, but it was nice to watch an even one for once. Watching and cheering with her family brought back fond memories of childhood games at the Burrow or Hogwarts, and she realized just how much she had missed actually playing. They stayed up late discussing players and tactics, but eventually their father ushered them all off to bed. 

~~~~~~

“Ellie?”

“Ellie??”

She stirred slightly and pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her.

“Ellie! Damn it, wake up!”

She opened her eyes slowly and saw her twin brother bent above her. The sight made her sigh.

“Charlie”, she mumbled. “We see each other once- or twice a year nowadays, do you really feel obligated to wake me up every time you get the chance?”

“Elwira, I’m serious! Get up!”

This caught her attention. Sure, the twins often used their full names when messing with each other, but it didn’t sound like Charlie was joking at all. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned loudly.

“What’s going on? Wha- Charlie? It’s still dark out? Why’d yo-”

“Ellie, c’mon. We have to help dad. Someone’s attacking the muggles.”

He threw his sister a jacket and pulled her out of the tent. Arthur, Bill and Percy were all waiting outside.

“Dad?”, she asked. “What’s happening? Charlie sai-”

“We’ve got to help the ministry!”, he said while frantically trying to count everyone and make sure they were there. “Fred, George, you make sure the others are safe. Go wait in the woods and I’ll come for you when the situation’s under control. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ellie, let’s see if there’s something we can do.”

Nobody questioned Mr Weasley’s instructions, and immediately left in different directions. There were people everywhere though, and the two directions quickly became three, four, six. Spells and curses were fired left, right and centre and Ellie found herself disarming and stunning at least a few death eaters. There weren’t that many of them, roughly thirty or so, but the insane amount of witches and wizards fleeing the campsite made it difficult to fight back. She couldn’t risk hitting any random bloke.

While duelling a tall man in a black mask, Ellie suddenly stumbled forward, a particularly nasty curse having hit her straight in the back. Falling to the ground felt way more painful than it should have, and her wand landed well beyond her reach. She groaned as a burning pain spread through her lower back, but made an effort to get back up anyways. She did, however, not make it very far before the sharp end of a wand dug into her throat.

The death eater behind her sniggered and pulled her up by the collar of her shirt.

“Well, well, well… Why’re you trying to ruin our fun?”

He stood way too close for comfort and Ellie felt his breath on her neck. She tried to answer, but the curse that was shot at her must have hit its intended target, as all that came out when she opened her mouth was a strained cough and warm blood.

The bloke holding her let out a dark chuckle and threw her to the ground. She could barely keep her eyes open, and a thick, red liquid oozed from the wound in her back.

“Not so high-and-mighty now, are we?”

Ellie lacked the strength to fight back, and to the death eaters that seemed to take all the fun out of the situation. They set off back towards the campsite, leaving Ellie on the ground next to a few pines. She tried her very best to sit up, but ended up passing out…

~~~~~~

“Charlie?!”

Bill ran up to his younger brother and pulled him in for a quick, one-armed hug.

“Charlie, you okay? We’ve got to get back to the tent. Where’s El?”

“Wha-, I-I thought she was with you?!?”

“What? Last I saw her you were together?”

The brothers shared a lock of utter terror.

“Bill, we have to find her!”

“I know… Dad went to get the kids and Percy’s back in the tent waiting.”

“There’s no time to waste then. Let’s go”

~~~~~~

They had been running around the camping grounds for half an hour, and there was still not a trace of a living soul - let alone the special one they were searching for. At first, they had been shouting her name at the top of their lungs, but were now walking silently. That was, at least, until a shout made both of them turn around.

“Bill! Charlie! What are you doing? I told you to stay in the tent?”

Arthur Weasley came running towards them, with Harry, Ron and Hermione following close behind.

“Dad!”, Charlie shouted. “Have you seen El? We can’t find her?”

“What?”, asked Arthur. “But she was with you, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, at first, but we must have gotten separated… Dad, is that? You know?”

He threw a dark glance at the skull and snake decorating the night sky and said, “Yes. Yes it is. Look, I’ll take Ron, Hermione and Harry back to the tent, and I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes, okay? Don’t go too far. Come on kids!”

~~~~~~

Just as the brothers were about to give up, go back to the clearing, wait for their dad and hopefully find both their sisters safe and sound, Bill noticed something. A glimpse of red in the moonlight…

“Charlie? Get over here fast!”

The younger brother followed Bill’s gaze and immediately set off through the forest when his eyes found a mess of ginger hair sticking out from behind a rather large pine. Bill followed closely behind.

“ELLIE!!!?!!”

Charlie stumbled to his knees and turned his sister around, trying to get a better look at her. He pressed his hand to her wrist and breathed a sigh of relief when he found a pulse.

“She’s alive”, he mumbled. “Bill, she’s alive!”

“Good. I- Good.” Bill was lost for words too and mumbled a quick “Let me see”.

He pushed some hair out of her eyes and searched for any clues to what had hit her. He was a curse-breaker after all, but that usually meant working with curses placed on things or places, not people. 

“Charlie, I-I don’t know what that is… it’s not a curse I’m familiar with and I’m no healer… You want to carry her?”

“Of course”

Charlie brought his twin into his arms and picked her up, her bruised, limp body threatening to fall unless he held on tight enough. The brothers walked back to the clearing where they’d promised to meet their dad, but kept a close watch on their sister. They would apparate, though at the moment none of them felt like they had much time for ‘Deliberation’. It wasn’t very far anyways.

~~~~~~

“DAD!”, Bill shouted as soon as they noticed Arthur in the clearing where they were supposed to wait.

“Boys! Didn’t I tell you t-”

“We’ll take that later, Dad, you’ve got to help her!?”

Arthur Weasley was speechless, which had most likely never happened before, and Charlie felt so helpless. This was worse than his worst nightmares, and there was nothing he could do. Had it been a wounded dragon, sure, he knew loads about them, but this?

“Dad?”, asked Bill. “What can we do?”

“Right. Er… I suppose there’s no use trying to get you to wait here?”, he said while looking at Charlie who frantically shook his head. “Right, Bill could you go back to Percy and the kids? Fill them in on what happened? Then Charlie and I’ll take Ellie to St Mungos, okay?”

Bill didn’t look too happy with the idea, but nodded nonetheless.

---

“Charlie sit down!”

“Fred, he can’t”, said George. “Hey, I think you missed a spot over there, Charles”

“Shut it both of you! Honestly, why am I the only one that’s worried?”

Arthur stood up and put an arm around his son.

“Listen, we’re all worried, but walking back and forth isn’t helping anyone. Just sit for a moment, huh?��

“No, dad, you don’t understand! It’s my fault. We were supposed to stick together! I let her out of my sight...I-”

“Charlie, we all-”

“No, Bill, you don’t get it either, I should-”

“-let your sister sleep for once? That’d be greatly appreciated, thank you.”

The entire family turned at once, and found the oldest daughter struggling to sit up.

“EL!!”

Charlie stumbled over and put a hand on his sister’s back, trying to help her up, but unfortunately placing it right where the curse had hit her.

“Auch!”

She moved away from his touch and he pulled his hand back immediately.

“Blimey, Ellie I’m so s-”

“Charlie, it’s good. Don’t worry about it.”

Ellie pulled her brother into a hug, though he was now extremely careful, and she looked over his shoulder at the rest of her family. Her eyes met Bill’s and he sent her a kind smile. She gestured for him to come join them, and eventually the whole family found themselves in a loving group hug. Molly did her very best to wrap her arms around all her children, desperately trying to convince herself that they were all there - safe and sound and loved. 

Because if there was one thing the Weasleys had a lot of, it was love and that is, after all, precisely what family is all about.

~ L

Masterlist

#weasley family imagine #bill weasley x sister #charlie weasley x sister #harry potter imagine #weasleys x sister #HP #hp one shot #Goblet of Fire #quidditch #arthur weasley x daughter #creative writing #writing #hp fan fic #harry potter fan fiction #weasley siblings #weasleys x daughter

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Three Days of The Hunter Job

leverage 2.05

hunt for the truth = fox news

you can’t change my mind, sorry

- - - - -

Nate: Here's what we can do. We can probably get you enough money to save the house and pay for medical bills--

Sarah: We aren't interested in money, Mr. Ford. This woman took my father's self-esteem. She took his reputation. She took his good name. That's what he needs back.

someone needs to make a compilation of their clients being noble as hell

- - - - -

Sophie: I wanna take the lead on this one. I wanna do what you do.

Nate: Yeah, listen, I know breakups can be very difficult, Sophie.

Sophie: Whoa. No, that's not what this is about.

Nate: I know that you have this need to be in control right now, you know.

Sophie: I don't have any such need.

Nate: But you can't project that onto the con.

Sophie: Excuse me? This, coming from the man who spent an entire year drunk, working out his obsessive vengeance on every dimwit in a suit who happened to cross our line of vision.

Nate: Hey, you put some thought into that one, didn't you?

Sophie: You know, I'm not tryin' to control the universe just because some guy dumped me. I-I appreciate the concern. I just, I need a new challenge.

Nate: Okay. (hands Sophie the files) This is your job.

Sophie: Thanks. Now, let's go get this bitch. (walks away)

Nate: Oh, boy

fucking get rekt nate you’re the literal last one to talk

- - - - -

huh nate is wearing flannel in this one

- - - - -

Sophie: Exactly. And then to protect themselves, they issue an apology to Mr. Pennington and then they throw Monica Hunter into the jaws of the very media machine that she bent to her own malicious will.

Parker: Wow. I gotta say, Sophie's briefings are much more dramatic.

Eliot: And poetic.

parker and eliot are cute

- - - - -

Sophie: But we can sell a story that commands respect. A story that she's gonna chase to get the respect she craves. Hm? Pack your bags, everyone. We're going to D.C. to make news.

(everyone continues sitting, looking uncomfortable)

Nate: That's when you wanna...

Sophie: I wanna do that bit again. Pack your bags, everyone. We're going to D.C. to make news. (leaves room)

Nate: She's walking into the closet

SOPHIE ITS OKAY YOU DONT NEED TO GO IN THE CLOSET

- - - - -

Parker: I got the pass. Easy.

Sophie: Parker, we went over this.

[Exterior Studio]

Sophie: You're not supposed to take it. Get caught with it.

Parker: I don't know how to get caught.

Sophie: Yeah, I know it's difficult to steal badly. Just, just try

- - - - -

Monica (grabs Parker): Hey. Hey. I will have you arrested for trespassing if you do not tell me what you are doing here.

Parker: Technically, you can't have me arrested for trespassing because you don't own the station.

Sophie: Parker, tell her the story

parker: TRY ME BITCH

- - - - -

hardison doing crazy tinfoil hat guy is iconic

+ parker and hardison’s high five and “that’s what I’m talkin about!” ADORABLE

- - - - -

Parker: Eliot, these conspiracies aren't real, right?

Eliot: What do you mean?

Parker: Like that one over there that says all the major wars of the past 50 years were ordered by members of The Council.

Eliot: Parker, I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you. (walks away)

Parker: You're not a member of The Council, are you? Eliot? Is he?

Nate: Oh, I don't know. (walks away)

Parker: Huh? Uh, Nate, is he?

parker looked so vulnerable asking it and eliot’s just like,,, imma fuck with her LMFAO

also this is another chaotic ot3 scene that I’d die for

- - - - -

eliot taking the general’s id with his pencil and handing it off to hardison? SMOOTH AS FUCK

- - - - -

Parker: But what if he won't talk to us?

Monica: Then we celebrate.

Parker: Celebrate?

Monica: Denial means guilt. Refusal means more guilt. Punch out my cameraman, and I'll kiss you on the mouth.

Camera Man: Mm-hm.

parker: 👀👀👀

- - - - -

parker gets hit with a car ,,, how many times in this series does she get hit with a car ??

- - - - -

monica’s face when she sees parker get hit by a car is LITERALLY the exact same as the surprised pikachu face

+

bruh imagine you see this happening ,,, like a girl get hit by a car, a suit running out, grabbing stuff of her body, then running away ???

her playing dead on the ground for a hot minute before “waking up”, dusting herself off and walking away ???

- - - - -

Hardison: Move. Don't stop. Come on.

Monica: They ran her over.

Hardison: I know, but we gotta go. Security cameras, the ATM cameras, the traffic cameras. We're always being watched. Just put your head down. Act natural.

Monica: Why are you dressed like a mailman?

Hardison: Invisible man, mailman, nobody notices the mailman. He blends right in. Just like a circus clown.

- - - - -

Parker: We totally went to the moon.

Eliot: Movie sets. I've seen 'em. They're outside of Albuquerque.

Parker: Why would there still be sets there?

Eliot: Because they're gonna reuse 'em for the Mars mission. Repaint it all red.

her bumping shoulders with eliot and leaning on him? the casual intimacy that nourishes my S O U L

- - - - -

Sophie: She has to have corroboration from her own sources. She has to craft the narrative. Monica Hunter has to be the author of her own personal nightmare.

Nate: Do I sound that creepy when I...?

Eliot: Hell yes.

Parker: Mm-hm.

Nate: Really?

Eliot: You do

- - - - -

Sophie: The only question is whether Hardison guessed her sources right.

Hardison: G-guess? Guess?

Sophie: Well, you know.

Hardison: Woman, my name Alec Hardison. I do not guess, OK? Look, journalists, they're lazy. They always go back to the same sources. I compared Monica Hunter's stories for the last ten years and created a heuristic model based on her sources. I-I filtered by story type, priority and evidentiary chain. Look, (pulls up info on laptop) sex scandal: 87 percent chance she goes to these sources. Serial killer scare: 90 percent she contacts these sources for confirmation. Government secrets and health scare intersects: Ninety-five percent chance she goes to these sources. Look, look. Right there. She's emailing them right now. Look.

- - - - -

Hardison: Get me out of here.

Sophie: Yeah, I'm working on it.

Parker (comes out of back room pulling on jacket): I'm on it.

Sophie: No, no, no, no, no, you cannot go. You're dead. Monica Hunter sees you and the whole con is blown.

Parker: Right

PARKER WAS R E A D Y TO GO IN AFTER HIM WE LOVE A PROTECTIVE OT3

- - - - -

Hardison: Damn the con. I'm a black man caught on an Army base with a video camera. I am going to jail forever.

the realest part of the show

- - - - -

Hardison: Eliot, get me everything you can on a Lieutenant Abbot.

[Apartment]

Hardison: Just-just do what I taught you.

Eliot (typing on laptop): Now, the "http" thing comes before—

[Interrogation Room 2]

Eliot: --the "www-dot," right?

Hardison: Eliot!

[Apartment]

Eliot: Which one's the forward slash?

Sophie: Oh, come on.

[Interrogation Room 2]

Hardison: It ain't the time, Eliot. It ain't the time.

[Apartment]

Eliot: It's not fun when you're hanging out there in the wind and there's a dude behind a laptop cracking jokes, is there?

Parker: (holding a gas mask over her face before looking over it) I like it when we switch jobs. It's exciting

someone PLEASE make an eliot-being-bad-at-technology compilation I’m begging

also it’s officially canon that hardison tries teaching eliot about technology

- - - - -

Eliot: No, that's everything on this guy.

Lieutenant: Sir, I need to know why you're on this base.

Hardison: Yes. Why am I on this base?

Lieutenant: I'm asking you.

Hardison: No, I'm asking you. Why am I on this base? Why am I in this room?

Lieutenant: So I can ask you questions.

Hardison: Or maybe it's so I can ask you questions, Lieutenant Kyle Abbot, Social Security 823-24-6270?

Lieutenant: I don't know what you're up to.

Hardison: Maybe you’re not cleared to know. Two disciplinary actions? That one in Germany? Maybe you're just too much of a security risk.

(lieutenant goes to leave and Hardison slams his fist on the table)

Hardison: Did I say you could leave?

(lieutenant swallows nervously)

T H I S

S C E N E

T H O

- - - - -

[Army Base Gate]

Nate: Not gonna work.

Eliot: It's all in the salute, man.

[Apartment]

Sophie: Just work the stars and bars. Nobody wants to--

[Army Base Gate]

(a soldier moves to the side of the car and leans in, saluting Nate)

Sophie: --look a general in the eye.

Nate: Uh, good form soldier. As you were.

Soldier: Clear.

(the gate goes up and Nate pulls into the base, parking near a building. He gets out of the car and walks toward the door)

- - - - -

Nate: We hunt for the truth through many dark places. (approaches Monica menacingly) I am a patriot, Ms. Hunter. I'm sorry. (to Eliot) Earl.

(Monica takes a can of pepper spray from her purse and sprays it in Nate’s face, driving him back. She runs out the door as he groans in pain. Eliot goes to pat his back)

Eliot: Good thing Parker switched that with water.

Nate: Didn't! Didn't switch. (they both start coughing)

LMFAO

- - - - -

Monica: My friends, this is the enemy. Our water has been poisoned.

(an aide spits out a mouthful of water)

JFNSKDKEJWJNFJ

- - - - -

(Eliot is cutting vegetables while Nate opens a bottle of wine and Hardison swirls orange soda in a wine glass)

hardison is literally swirling his neon orange soda in a wine glass as eliot cooks actual food for the fam I CANNOT

- - - - -

Parker (holds up photo): Loch Ness Monster.

Hardison: Loch Ness submarine.

Parker: No!

Eliot: Scottish waters are cold and deep. It's a perfect place to test.

Parker (holds up photo): Area 51.

Eliot: True.

Hardison: False.

Eliot: That's true.

Hardison: False. She said Area 51, 51.

Eliot: I'm sorry. False. Area 52.

Hardison: Been there.

Eliot: Yep

I’m crying the ot3 was top tier chaotic this entire episode and parker was having A Time™ with all these conspiracies

someone make a compilation of these scenes overlayed with the wii music. pls.

#leverage #leverage 2.05 #leverage 2x05 #the three days of hunter job #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

[365days365movies]

April 11, 2021: Tootsie (1982) (Recap)

To be clear, I like Dustin Hoffman.

I can’t exactly claim that I’ve seen him in a lot of his most iconic roles, but I’m planning on fixing that this year for sure! On my to-watch list this year and beyond is Midnight Cowboy, Kramer vs. Kramer, Stranger Than Fiction, and Marathon Man at the very least.

But that’s not to say I haven’t seen him in other iconic roles of his, of course. Fun fact: I actually tried to do this project in 2019, and it...didn’t work. But, one of the films I watched that year was one of Hoffman’s most iconic dramatic films: Rain Man.

Oh, and by the way, that movie is not about an autistic man. Or, rather, it’s not based on a man diagnosed with one of the autism spectrum disorders. Instead, he actually most likely had a genetic disorder called FG syndrome, unrelated to the spectrum disorders. Ironic, since Hoffman’s character was the pop-cultural depiction of autism that people STILL refer to quite often, and quite inaccurately. But, obviously, that’s not Hoffman’s fault, and he was good in the movie, to be fair.

I grew up with him in Hook, as the pirate captain himself (I still do his laugh sometimes, it’s weird, I know). He had an underappreciated starring role in one of my favorite guilty-pleasure films, Outbreak (I fucking love that movie, and I’m not ashamed to admit that). He was in Finding Neverland, but I just forgot about that until I looked up his filmography to write this intro. And, of course...Master Shifu.

So, yeah, I actually DO like Dustin Hoffman, despite the fact that his role in The Graduate wasn’t stellar for me. Just seemed kinda miscast, and a little too awkward to be even slightly sympathetic. Then again, he wasn’t really meant to be, so maybe Hoffman was the perfect choice. Even then, he still acted well in it.

And anyway, I watched that movie for two major reasons. One, it was on my list of films to see, and TWO: it was a lead-up to the ACTUAL Hoffman film I wanted to watch this month: Tootsie. After all, I just watched rom-com Some Like It Hot, and if you’ve looked at me schedule, you know what film is coming next. So, this one fits in my planned schedule. Why? Well...there’s a theme.

Yup. I actually picked these movies for a reason. See, here’s the thing: this is a repeated trope in comedies, and I’ve always wondered whether or not it’s...problematic. But, much to my surprise with Some Like It Hot, they actually used the situation to comment on the female experience. I mean, not necessarily really well, but they tried at the very least. And for a film from 1959, that ain’t bad!

Which isn’t to say that it’s entirely clean, of course, but it was far better than I’d expected. So, if 1959 did that OK, how did 1982 do? Let’s find out, shall we?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Michael Dorsey (Dustin Hoffman) is an acting coach, as well as being an actor himself. However, he’s not the most successful actor, as he keeps attempting to audition for pieces, only to get refused for nebulous reasons, or refuses them when he disagrees with the director. He might want to take his own advice, for the record.

In the meantime, he works in a restaurant with Jeff Slater (Bill Murray), a playwright and roommate. That night, the night of his birthday, he spends time with an actress friend, Sandy Lester (Teri Garr), and also hits on the majority of women there that night.

As the party concludes, and various people go home, Sandy is abandoned by her date, and Michael offers to take her home. She breaks down crying, and Michael guesses that she’s upset about an upcoming audition. He gives her some coaching advice, and manages to get her to produce the correct emotion for the role. Afraid that she’ll lose it without him, he agrees to accompany her to the audition and enrage her. It’s very funny.

That morning, however, she IMMEDIATELY gets kicked out of the audition, as she wasn’t right for the part. However, when he goes to help her by speaking with an actor on the show, he finds out that the actor is off the show, and is instead getting a part that MICHAEL was supposed to get. Now enraged himself, he goes to speak with his agent, George Fields (Sydney Pollack), and the two have a tense conversation. It’s revealed that because of his difficult nature, he has a terrible reputation in acting circles, and literally nobody will hire him.

Challenge accepted.

Now dressed up as a woman named “Dorothy Michaels”, he goes back to the audition that passed on Sandy. Like her, he’s also immediately rejected by the director, Ron Carlisle (Dabney Coleman), who insists that she’s too “gentile” for the part of a hospital administrator. This causes “Dorothy” to go off, in a righteous monologue that accuses Ron for conflating power with masculinity. Which...yeah, he totally is, and DAMN, it’s a good tell-off!

Producer Rita Marshall (Doris Belack) agrees, and invites “Dorothy” to read for the part. He comes in to read, and in the process meets Julie Nichols (Jessica Lange), to whom he’s IMMEDIATELY attracted. He brushes that off, and the audition commences. From there, he gets the part, which is a regular part on a soap opera called Southwest General.

Now fully invested in the dumbest idea anybody’s ever had, “Dorothy” goes to her agent and tells him the ridiculous news, and asks for $1000 to go shopping for more clothing. Back at their apartment, Michael speaks to Jeff about the whole situation. He notes that he’s doing this to get the money for his play in Syracuse, which requires $8000 to produce.

Sandy is to be cast in this play, which is an issue, as they now need to explain where the money came from, as it’s technically from the part that SHE was refused for, which would hurt her feelings. He lies and says that the money’s from a deceased relative. While in her place, and while she’s in the shower, he decides to try on some of her clothes to get ideas for Dorothy. But when she walks in on him, he lies AGAIN and says that he’s sexually attracted to her. And she reciprocates IMMEDIATELY, which leads to an unintended relationship.

On the set, “Dorothy” finds out that he’ll be kissing John Van Horn (George Gaynes), an older actor who’s clearly a bit past his prime, and makes it a point to kiss every actress on the set when they start on the show. Gross. Michael agrees, and when the scene comes, he improvises and has his character (Emily) hit the doctor instead.

While the director (who’s a DICK, by the way) notes the improvisation, he approves of it, while also discouraging any similar actions in the future, and calling her “toots”. “Dorothy” takes it, rather than talks back. John compliments her on the improvisation, and then kisses “Dorothy” anyway, much to Michael’s shock!

We also find out that Julie, who plays a nurse on the show, is dating director Ron. Later on, though, Michael observes him making out with another actress on stage. Shortly after this, Julie invites “Dorothy” to dinner at her place, which is eagerly accepted. At dinner, we find out that Julie has a young daughter and that her relationship with Ron is...not stellar.

They have a discussion about being a woman in the ‘80s, and the complexities inherent in that concept, which is an interesting theme of this movie! Gotta say, this is a more socially-conscious version of Some Like It Hot, and I really like that! But the conversation is cut short when Michael realizes that he’d promised dinner with Sandy that night, and leaves in a hurry.

Dinner with Sandy is awkward, as Sandy is...Sandy is a lot, to be honest. But, she tells Michael that the woman hired in her stead on the soap opera (who is, of course, Michael himself), is written as a wimp, rather than tough as intended, and that she should change that. Michael agrees, and actively goes against the script to make the character of Emily far tougher. and essentially a feminist.

While this causes some grief to Ron and Rita at first, Dorothy Michaels soon becomes a massively successful and popular actress on the show, and her popularity absolutely explodes. Michael’s wrapped up in the success of Dorothy Michaels, and thinks that she might be able to branch outside of the role of the soap opera. Which is difficult, as his agent points out, because of the simple fact that Michael is...well, Michael.

At a party that his agent invites him to, Michael meets Julie AS MICHAEL. He uses a line on her that she’d mentioned before to Dorothy, only to be met with a drink to the face. Which is fair, as the line was about being honest about wanting to have sex with her, so I get it.

On the set soon afterwards, we see that the show is becoming more progressive, allowing Julie’s nurse character to stand up to John’s chief doctor character. After the scene is done, the director once again calls Dorothy “toots” instead of her real name, and Dorothy absolutely snaps back at him, and rightfully so! In response, Julie goes and invites Dorothy to a weekend in the country, on her father’s farm. Despite some rebuke from Jeff for lying to Sandy AND Julie, Michael as “Dorothy” goes on the trip.

This, by the way, is an excellent time to mention that this film is exuding some real strong, uh, vibes. You know...alphabet mafia vibes. Like, it’s definitely there, heavily leaning towards Julie. Obviously, “Dorothy” is actually the heterosexual Michael, but that’s not helping, just saying. And there’s literally (and absolutely obviously) nothing wrong with that, but it’s so strong at this point that it’s hard to ignore.

On the farm, “Dorothy” meets Les Nichols (Charles Durning), Julie’s lonely and genuinely nice father, if a bit old-fashioned in his views on gender politics. He’s also got the hots for “Dorothy”, which is funny-but-awkward as shit. That night, Julie tells “Dorothy” some very personal things about her dreams as a child, which is a genuinely very sweet scene. And can I just say, that this movie is both funny and quite heartfelt? I love it! Also, again, the vibes...THE VIBES.

Meanwhile, the popularity of “Dorothy” continues to skyrocket, to the frustration of director Ron, but to the delight of producer Rita, who decides to extend her contract with the soap opera by a full year! Oh FUCK! Realizing what the hell he’s gotten himself into, Michael calls his agent, who tells him that it was in his contract, meaning he’s basically fucked.

Jeff also tries to help hi, out of it, to no avail. Just then, though, they get a call from Julie, looking for “Dorothy”. She’s been having her doubts about her relationship with Ron, and she realizes that she’s been settling for Ron and other men like him. And Dorothy’s inspired her to be a better person, and to be honest with others and with herself. Fuckin’ OOF.

Just then, Ron arrives, allowing them some alone time, as Julie is getting ready for their night out. In the process, “Dorothy” reveals that she knows about his indiscretions with other women. Ron proceeds to use the EXACT SAME EXCUSE that Michael used to excuse his lies to Sandy, and it’s well-executed! Good job, writers, that’s pretty awesome.

“Dorothy” promises to watch Julie’s daughter for the night, which proves a bit of an issue, but he works it out. Julie returns later on, having broken up with Ron. Another heart-to-heart ensues, but this one is concluded with a revelation that Julie is lonely, despite the fact that she appreciates Dorothy’s influence and friendship. And then, "Dorothy” tries to kiss Julie. OH

Yeah, Julie’s not exactly chuffed about this as, despite a LOT of “Sappho and her friends” vibes, she doesn’t actually swing that way. “Dorothy” tries to explain, but this is interrupted by a call from Julie’s dad! He asks her out on a date that night, and “Dorothy” accepts. On said date, he FUCKIN’ PROPOSES TO HER! She promises to think about it, and takes the fuck OFF.

And to continue the parade of “Fuck me, I guess” that marching down Michael Street, who should show up at the apartment but John, from the show! Having followed her home the previous night (YIKES BUDDY), he literally serenades her outside of the apartment window, before “Dorothy” lets him in. It’s there that he reveals he’s MADLY in lust with her, and it’s HILARIOUSLY awkward. Thankfully, just as John is forcing himself on her, Jeff walks in on them, interrupting John’s actions, and causing him to leave in shame.

AND FUCKING THEN, after all of that, Sandy arrives at the apartment to find out why Michael’s not returned her phone calls. And Sandy’s a lot, sure, but all of her concerns are completely valid and legitimate. And despite Michael’s impressive ability to lie, he tells her the truth: he’s in love with another woman. Which she absolutely freaks the fuck out about, but whatever, not like Michael doesn’t deserve that.

Having had it with all the drama around Dorothy’s life, he goes to his agent and hilariously recounts to him the whole series of events that’s taken place. Still struggling to find a way to get out of the situation, he goes to work the next day, for an awkward conversation with Julie. She thanks Dorothy for inspiring her to be true to herself, which cuts DEEP, but still says that they shouldn’t spend time together anymore.

Producer Rita arrives with news: the erasure of a reel of footage has forced them to shoot a scene live. Said scene involves a party being thrown for Dorothy’s characters, putting her in the starring role. And THAT is when Michael takes his chance. Dorothy improvises a monologue about Emily’s REAL past, as a twin who tragically died before realizing her dream to become a hospital administrator. Ripping off his disguise, Michael reveals himself as Emily’s twin brother, Edward!

Everyone on stage and at home is SHOCKED, especially Les, John, Sandy, and of course, Julie. And once the cameras stop rolling, Julie now understands everything. She walks right up to Michael...AND PUNCHES HIM IN THE DICK

John asks if Jeff knows, and I break in half laughing.

Months pass. Michael was able to fund Jeff’s play in Syracuse, and goes to meet Les, who lives in the area. The two make amends after an understandably awkward reunion, and they begin the journey to become friends after everything. This prompts Michael to return to the city and speak with Julie, who is...less than happy to see him. Which, yeah, entirely fair.

But, again overcoming the initial awkwardness, Julie is able to admit that she misses her friend Dorothy. And Michael reciprocates, speaking for Dorothy, who is...well, him. He says the following great line: 

I was a better man with you as a woman than I ever was with a woman as a man.

And from there...the two decide to rekindle a friendship, with Julie asking to borrow one of Michael’s dresses. And y’know...I’m rooting for those crazy kids.

That’s Tootsie! And, uh...I love it! I LOVE it. I actually think this is a great film, and one of the best I’ve seen this month. But I’ll elaborate...in the Review! See you there!

#tootsie #sydney pollack #dustin hoffman #jessica lange #teri garr #dabney coleman #doris belack #charles durning #bill murray #george gaynes #geena davis #comedy april #user365 #365days365movies #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #usercori #userleo #bbelcher

[disneydreamlights]

Across the Stars: Chapter 1

AO3 | FFN

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

Summary: Tensions between the Separatists and the Republic are climbing as the Senate debates whether there is need for an army. Anakin Skywalker, Senator of Tatooine, has recently returned to Coruscant to speak against its formation, resulting in an assassination attempt that forces him to reunite with long time friends Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and the newly knighted Padme Naberrie for his own protection. [Anidala]

(Or, an Attack of the Clones Roleswap AU)

A/N: What’s this? I’m publishing a multi chapter that’s actually a part of a series? Yes, yes I am. Updates should come every Wednesday since I actually completed this one before getting the genius idea to post it. After that it’ll just be whenever I finish another fic for it will be when the next one is posted. 

The air around Anakin felt charged as he worked on piloting it down for a landing. Normally, he was eager to return to Coruscant after a few days away from the capital planet, Tatooine still far from his favorite planet (though it got better every day. He was proud of Beru for all the help she provided, and he was doing a lot of effort on his own since he’d been voted into the Senate) but tonight was different. The air around the city had felt tense, prompting Anakin to be glad of his decision to fly a small, inconspicuous ship down to the planet. Somebody was after him, he just wasn’t really sure why.

He felt a flash of something, a warning in the air to be careful and wary. He closed his eyes, trying to remember what Obi-Wan and Padmé had taught him years ago, and immediately turned the steering wheel, rolling out of the way of a projectile that had nearly caught his ship. That would’ve grounded it instantly. “Kriff.”

He heard the beeping of his Astromech companion and security detail, yelling at him for his risky flying. “Come on Artoo, we’re fine.” More angry beeps. “I didn’t get hit.”

More beeps, this time sarcastic and irritated from Artoo. “If you’re just going to try to yell at me, be useful and call Mom.”

A holographic projection of his mother appeared moments later. “What is it Ani?”

“You’re already landed, right?”

“Ani?”

“Mom please.” He felt it again, the same disturbance, and this time swerved out of the way of the second attack.

Shmi Skywalker shook her head. “Of course we have, the last person on the cruiser just disembarked. Is something wrong?”

Well, if he was honest, he wanted to say everything was wrong. But he wasn’t about to worry her, plus it wasn’t like he didn’t have things under control in regards to whoever was firing at him. “I think somebody let slip that I wasn’t flying in with the rest of the delegation from Tatooine. I’ve got the situation under control and I have Artoo with me, so I’m fine. We’ll still be landing soon.”

“You ask me not to be worried, but it’s never easy.”

Anakin chuckled. “I promise I’m fine mom. Leave the worrying to Threepio. He’s always been better at it. Just make sure to clear the landing platform. If this goes wrong I don’t want our friend hurting anybody else.” Before she could respond, he hung up, not wanting to worry his mom more in case another attack came. “Ready Artoo? Time to make a landing.”

He was pretty sure R2 was ready to kill him by the time they finally touched down on the platform as he approached rapidly, wanting to avoid a third fire from their mysterious and very murderous new friend. In fact, he wanted to make sure he wasn’t in the ship at all as the bad energy continued to flow around him. “Artoo, let’s go.”

The droid and Anakin emerged from the ship, Anakin pulling up a hood on his cloak to hopefully avoid detection from whatever assassin has his trail. Barely a minute after he was off the ship and approaching the entrance to the building, he was pushed forward, scarcely out of the blast radius with his faithful droid. And he looked behind himself to see the small ship that he had arrived on was absolutely destroyed. “Message received.”

Somebody didn’t want him on Coruscant.

They’d regret trying to get him to leave.

-x-

“Peace is our objective here, not war.” Palpatine’s voice pulled Anakin out of the stupor he’d fallen into as the senator from Malastare concluded his request for aid from the Republic to deal with the Separatist threat coming onto the planet. If he was honest, had the senator not been pushing for the Military Creation Act, Anakin might have felt sympathy, but the creation of an army was not an action Anakin would ever defend. Not one founded on individuals forced to join an army.

He felt his mom squeeze his hand, though she stepped back before he moved the pod out, not wanting the attention on her, but rather on everything Anakin would say. “My fellow senators, when I arrived on Coruscant today to come to this very meeting, an assassin made an attempt on my life. I was fired at three times, and while my skills behind the wheel of a ship saved my life today, had the assassin only been slightly quicker on the uptake when I landed, it’s likely I wouldn’t have made it off the ship alive at all.”

The crowds started to talk amongst themselves, a sign to Anakin that he needed to push. “The reason I was targeted today was because of the bill we’re supposed to be voting on today. Of all the senators against the creation of the creation of an army, I’ve been the loudest, most open about my displeasure, and the one who everybody knows is willing to do anything to get the results I want. Somebody here wants to take that a step further, just to make sure that the bill gets through.” He looked over the other pods, and felt Bail’s approval much to his relief. The speech hadn’t been gone over or discussed with his former mentor, and Anakin had been slightly worried that bringing it up in the Senate would be unwelcome, but it seemed to have been a good idea, even if no prior words had been drafted.

Despite the approval from Bail, the Senate was getting tense, and shouting was beginning. “Ani–” His mom put her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. He had to make his statement clear to the others.

“You’re all booing me, and for what? This whole idea is a joke. You don’t raise an army for protection. You raise an army if you want to start a war. It won’t deter the Separatists. It will embolden them, and then the fighting will be brought right to our planets. Our systems. Our people. You have to stop living in your delusions.” He slammed his fist on the pod in front of him. Not his best move, but far from his worst in the Senate. “People will die. Civilians drafted for combat will die. The people you force to fight this battle will be nothing but slaves.”

He had people’s attention, and their ire judging by the ever increasing yelling from the other pods. Which was good, it was what he wanted from the other senators. He wanted them to remember his words. “This ‘security measure,’” he said the words full of disdain, “that we’re all voting for is nothing short of a declaration of war on the Separatists, and unless you want to claim that you were the one who brought war to the Republic, you’ll vote with me against this bill.”

The outrage in the Senate was tremendous, but Anakin smirked, having done his job at riling up the chambers. Voices rang against each other as Mas Amedda called for order within the Senate to try to regain a semblance of control amongst the Senators.

After a few minutes, the Senate calmed down, and Palpatine spoke. “Due to the lateness of the hour and the seriousness of this motion, we will take up these matters tomorrow. Until then, the Senate is adjourned.”

-x-

Unsurprisingly, within an hour the Loyalist Committee was summoned to the Chancellor's office. Not a surprise, if Anakin was honest. He’d stirred up a storm in the Senate and even if Palpatine wasn’t mad at him (unlikely) the announcement that he’d nearly been a victim to an assassination attempt less than an hour ago was likely not welcome for him to hear, especially since Palpatine had been trying to get Anakin’s favor since he’d arrived on Coruscant five years prior.

Much more surprising to Anakin, was the presence of several Jedi in his office. Council members, if he recalled the faces correctly. He looked them over for Obi-Wan or Padmé in their midst, and quickly squashed down his disappointment at neither of his friends being present. “Senator Skywalker.” He looked down to see Yoda walking over. “Your tragedy on the landing platform, terrible. Seeing you alive brings warm feelings to my heart.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda. I’m just thankful I’d chosen to fly myself into Coruscant. The loss of life had I been on a transport with the rest of the members of my delegation would have been much greater.” Admittedly, a small part of Anakin still stung with resentment over the fact that Yoda refused to accept him into the Jedi Order, but he had mostly put it behind him. “Do you have any idea who may have sent the assassin?”

Windu approached as well, joining the conversation. “Our intelligence network thinks it may have been remnants from Jabba’s gang seeking revenge against you from when you overthrew them and brought Tatooine into the Republic.”

Anakin shook his head. “I think you’re wrong, Master Jedi.” He watched Windu raise an eyebrow and took it as a sign to continue. “I think the Separatists are behind these attacks.”

The room was silent, as though they were processing what Anakin had said. He didn’t blame them. Accusing the Separatists of wanting to kill the single person who was actively against the formation of a military against them wasn’t logical. But every part of Anakin just knew it was right.

“You mean to imply Count Dooku?” Windu asked, clearly skeptical of Anakin’s accusation.

“Not one hundred percent, but nobody else in his Confederacy would have the means or motive.” Or motive. He thought of Senator Bonterri for a moment. Onderon was a member of the Separatist movement, but she was certainly unlikely to try to level an attack on him given how closely they had worked when he’d been a teenager running around the Senate floor. He had little doubt the other senators who had left would be similar. Almost no other member of their group would have an interest in killing him if his hunch was correct.

“Count Dooku is a political idealist, not a murderer.” Master Mundi corrected Anakin, but he said nothing, letting the Jedi have their say.

“He was also once a Jedi, Senator. He couldn’t assassinate anyone. It’s not in his character.”

“Once.” Anakin frowned at Windu’s defense. “As in he’s not a Jedi any longer. There’s no reason to believe he would still hold to Jedi beliefs, and even then, I’m not arguing that he’s the killer, only that he hired one out.”

Before Windu could respond, Yoda spoke up. “Matters not, the killer’s identity does. For certain Senator in grave danger you are.”

“Master Jedi.” Palpatine looked away from the window he had been near to give a kind smile to Anakin, as though he truly wanted to protect him. “May I suggest the Senator be placed under the protection of your graces.”

“You really think that’s a wise decision under these stressful times.” Bail spoke up, and he was right, the Jedi council didn’t need to spare anymore Jedi from whatever peace keeping mission they were on.

“Chancellor, with all do respect, I don’t need protecting, I can handle myself–”

“I’m sure you can, Senator.” The Chancellor cut him off. “I know you are a great pilot, and have a lucky streak, but the situation right now is dire. I understand that you do not want the help of the Jedi, but perhaps you might be willing to accept the extra security if it were Jedi you were familiar with. Perhaps an old friend like Master Kenobi, or Knight Naberrie.”

Anakin clenched his hands into fists, feeling his nails dig into the palms of his hand. He desperately wanted to see Obi-Wan and Padmé again, that much was true, but he having his friendship with them used as a weapon against him soured his mood for a possible reunion, which further sank as Windu revealed that the two had just returned from a border dispute.

“Please, Anakin. You know how much I’ve desired to look out for you since you asked for our help. Allow me to arrange this one thing for you, my boy.” There was nothing more he could do with Palpatine’s plea like that, and while Anakin was sure there was some ulterior motive to what was going on, he had his hands tied.

With nothing else he could do, Anakin turned to face Windu. “Tell Obi-Wan and Padmé I’ll be in my apartment, and that I look forward to seeing them again.”

It wasn’t until he left the office that he smiled as he realized just exactly who he was seeing again.

[Next Part]

#Star Wars #Anakin Skywalker #Anakin #Padme Amidala #Padme #Obi Wan Kenobi #Obi Wan #Anidala #Heather Writes

[calypsoff]

Eight. Part 2

Sitting in the SUV “I need you both to ring every hospital in Virginia for me, I Googled searched and there is thirty six” Jen and Mel just stared at me dumbfounded like I was talking crazy but at this moment I am, I just got rid of Jay Brown and said I would meet him later which I won’t be, I need them to help me on this “what has happened?” Jen asked “I have been hating him every day since he was ignoring my message to only find out he is in hospital, I need to see him, but he doesn’t want to tell me where, I didn’t ask because he is stubborn. Now please, I need to see him. Ring every hospital and say you’re his wife, I will do the same. Please do it for me” I know I sound like I have lost my mind, but I care for him no matter the circumstance we are at right now, I really care for him “he, meaning Chris?” Jen asked “yes, I am speaking on Chris. Just please, his name is Christopher Maurice Brown, he was in a coma, so I am guessing ICU, not sure but please find him for me” Mel rubbed my arm “you really do love him?” Mel said “I always have but I can always put my feelings aside, I have grown used to doing it because I didn’t know where he went but I do now, I just get angry with him. I am going to go back to Virginia and see him. Jay Brown can kiss my ass, Rich is booking me a ticket. I don’t know what happened, but he is in hospital. I don’t care, he is my friend and I care for him. I would do the same for you both, you know I would. I am just that kind of friend to you all, but with him he is my friend and also my lover, please girls” Jen and Mel look so concerned “we will come with you?” shaking my head “I have Rich, I will get back quick. Just ring them and find out, I am starting now” he is stubborn and if I ask him he will never say it because he doesn’t want me there, he has no choice now.

Mel is clicking her fingers in my face all wide eyed, but can she just tell me, I think she has found out “thank you so much, I thought he moved that is all. I have been away, but I will see him soon, thank you” Mel put the phone down “so found him, I had to talk so much shit to her. He is at the Virginia Hospital Center, he is in the critical care part. They are allowing visitors and she said he is awake, and also that he is having some scans today so he may be away from his room, but you can come along” thank you god “thank you so much Mel! I better get going, I need to get on the first flight out there” Mel pointed behind me, looking behind and seeing Rich. He opened the car door “not another flight until three hours, so I got a jet booked for as soon as possible. That will be quicker” I guess so “thank you, I will go now but I Wil call you both. Just wait for me here. I will be back” Mel leaned over hugging me “you honestly do love him; I am shocked but yet impressed. You love someone” I chuckled “thanks, love you both” holding Jen’ hand smiling at her “go and see him, put your mind at rest. Hope he is ok” I hope he is too, sighing out.

“Please don’t try and touch your head” the nurse navigated my hand back down, I feel like so much is happening, I was asleep, but they are putting me in for scans and I just noticed my leg is in a cast, I am so tired that I just didn’t notice till I wiggled my toes, now I feel like shit “is it bad?” I asked, “what is?” she asked “me? Is there something mentally wrong?” the nurse smiled at me “not mentally wrong, if there is you wouldn’t be speaking to me, we want to make sure your head is ok one hundred percent” she is right “why am I so tired then, what happened to my leg? And my fingers?” she may have more answers “so you are taking them of to check?” I asked “yes, check your whole body for anything else broken properly. With you being in an induced coma we didn’t want to move the body too much, but you are awake now, not to worry” she said not to worry but she is saying I am broken, this is going to be so long. I know it now, this recovery is going to be longer than I assumed it would be, I am in a state of shock and also pain, I feel my mind is trying to catch up with everything that happened to me, but it’s just too much. I would like to know what I was hit with “let me know if you feel any type of discomfort, we are taking the bandage off your head now” nodding my head, will my head come apart, this is scary.

I properly look like a spoilt child right now, but they are right my left hand pinkie is finger bone is broken, my leg is broken, and I don’t know about my head. They bandaged it back up again “I hate this” I really do, I am just here in this bed “when will I get back to normal” looking to the side of me “let’s think of the positives, you are alive ok? Bones will heal, the doctor will come and speak to you about the rest. You need to just rest and not think of everything else; you are doing too much thinking. Rest is key?” I sniggered “bills don’t get paid ma’am, I will probably get beat again and I will be back” laughing to myself “I don’t think your body can take another, looking at your records from last time you got hit it was also head injury. You need to be more careful with yourself, love yourself” I feel like an invilid on this bed “and the porter is here, we will get you back to your room. I think you should be happier and feel more blessed that you are here in this world Chris. But the doctor will be with you and he can then discuss what he has seen and if there is anything serious ok?” nodding my head “see you soon I guess” I mumbled “you will, take him back to his room for me thank you” I sighed out heavily.

It sucks that nobody is here, they all went home of course. I mean I was gone for tests for hours, so I don’t’ blame them, now I am alone here. I just have Netflix on my phone, TJ downloaded me some shit to watch but my mind is not in it. I just keep thinking back to when I left the house, my parents’ home. I didn’t see anyone around, I literally was walking to my car and then some nigga just started calling me a snitch, I knew from then on shit was going south. I was beating that nigga up, I was doing so well. I was beating his ass so bad and then that was it, now I am here. So whoever he was he had a crew with him, sad part is this is cousin that is doing this to me. He blames me and I blame him for getting me in this shit, his whole family hate me which is my family of course. I need to think, I need to think about leaving this place because I can’t get beat up again, I really can’t. Resting my head back on the pillow, I need to care for myself. The nurse is right, I do need to care for myself and just want better for me. Locking my phone, I am tired so I will just sleep.

“Excuse me, Chris” my eyes shot open “huh!” I spat moving back seeing this huge black guy hovering over me “sorry” he stepped back, my eyes bulged out near scared for my life “if you here to kill me then you should have done it in my sleep” the fuck is he “I am not here for that, I was just waking you up. It’s Rich, we met in New York, we may have crossed paths?” squinting my eyes at him “I am Rihanna’ bodyguard” my face softened, my heart is beating even hard then it was. Looking around the room “I just come to scope out the room, is anyone else here with you?” shaking my head “no, wait. Is she here?” I am expecting to see her face “I don’t want her here, please tell me she isn’t. I really don’t want her to see me bro” he laughed “she found you, your wife that is. You’re married to her now, she got her way like that but yeah, she is here. I will get her now but is anyone else here?” shaking my head, I am palpating right now “did she really come here, look at me” he shrugged walking, he is laughing at me, but I am not happy. I can’t even deal, I am not prepared for this, I am here peeing in a bag and Robyn is here.

I would like to get out of the bed and make myself look a little better, shit is a mess, and she is here to see me. I am shaking, I am nervous to see her after speaking to Barry about shit that happened, I feel like I know what I want but we need to speak and she is here, my heart right now. They will be here soon; I mean it’s been about five minutes. She has come here, and she could get caught, she is crazy for doing this, but I am shocked, this has bought on a whole new feeling to me, my beard has grown, I look a mess. Even I couldn’t bring myself to take a selfie that is how bad I look, I took in a sharp breath as my head turned to the door, it opened “I will stand outside, keep an eye on who comes. Don’t be long” hearing her bodyguard say, she is actually here. I feel emotional, she came here for me. She took time out to search for me, when she said she would search for me she meant it with her whole heart. I feel teary about this, pushing her hood back as she came into the room. She froze near the door, but it closed behind her, she is staring at me I think in shock, she took her shades off. She is wearing my snapback, I forgot she took that “I told you I would find you” nodding my head, I look terrible and she looks so good as always.

Robyn slowly made her way to me, ever so slowly. She is drinking in every part of me, I don’t know what to say. I feel her aura again, I can feel her. When she is close to me I malfunction and now I feel it again, she is here playing with my mind. I can sense the hurt, staring at her intently “I have been hating you every day when you didn’t contact me. Every waking moment I woke up I just hated you not knowing you was here, not knowing what happened to you. And all along you was here, I am hurt and to see you in this state has made me hurt even more. Then the conversation hit me, you said it. You told me that those people are after you still, I am happy to see you alive, but I am hurting so much. I care about you and I was going to come to see you, whether you wanted me too or not” watching Robyn look me up and down, she looks in pain “I was in Miami, but I came here straight away, I lied about a lot but I am here. This is why I say to you life is too short to play games, you know but you’re here and awake” Robyn is speaking so much to me, I am just here mute and in shock that she is here, she came. I didn’t expect her to be here, she came. Robyn reached her hand over and lightly brushed the back of her hand over my cheek, our eyes met, and we just stared at each other in complete silence, when you have so many things to say and you just can’t bring yourself to say it, this is the moment. The look in her eyes, she is hurt “I missed you” I admitted, I missed her so much, and I just want to explode because I am full of feelings.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

[pangzi]

Otome Gay [Nielan] - Chapter 5

word count: 1869 other chapters:  INTRO - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [AO3]

Since then, things with Xichen were a bit strange. It felt like both everything and nothing had changed. They still talked as much, but sometimes when things got a bit too flirty or serious, Xichen seemed to suddenly get a lot quieter. Mingjue didn’t really know how to handle this. He didn’t want to think too much of it, maybe Xichen just wanted to take things a bit slower than Mingjue, and that was totally okay. But there was always this little nagging voice in his head that told him he did something wrong and now Xichen wasn’t interested anymore. Always followed by the other nagging voice that said that of course Xichen isn’t interested, why would he be, that Xichen is too good for him and he should be happy he even wants to be his friend. 

Mingjue wanted to just take his brain out and throw it in the trash whenever those thoughts took over. It was so ridiculous, Xichen had agreed to go on a date with him, he wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t interested. He wouldn’t lead Mingjue on, he was sure of it. Xichen even kept saying how much he was looking forward to their date on Friday, as long as he still was, Mingjue shouldn’t worry. Although it wasn’t the best first date, it still beat a movie date. They could just find a quiet place to talk after greeting their brothers and some of their friends and spend the entire night talking. Mingjue would find a way to make it romantic. 

Mingjue had planned to take Huaisang to Haidilao Hot Pot on Thursday as an early birthday celebration, as it had become somewhat a tradition in the past few years. There was even a new restaurant opening near Huaisang’s university, so it was perfect. Or, it would have been, had one of Huaisang’s mandatory classes not been rescheduled for the exact time Mingjue had made a reservation. 

It was foolish to give up a reservation in such a popular restaurant so Mingjue decided to still go, he’d take Huaisang again another time. Xichen was going somewhere with Wangji tonight, so he couldn’t ask him to come along. So instead he decided to take Zonghui. 

When they arrived, the line of people without a reservation was incredibly long. Mingjue almost felt bad that they could just go inside without waiting. Right when they walked in, he saw a familiar face in line. Meng Yao. 

For a moment he wanted to just walk inside, remembering the way Meng Yao had looked at him last time they met. He didn’t trust him one bit, but he was Xichen’s best friend, he should probably try and be at least on good terms with him. So he told Zonghui to wait a moment. 

“Meng Yao”, Mingjue called to catch the boy’s attention, who turned to him immediately. “You can come in with us, we have a reservation”, Mingjue said, forcing a kind smile on his face. Meng Yao seemed surprised at that.

“Mingjue-xiong, that is very kind of you but-”

“We’ve been waiting for hours, we’d love to join you!” Meng Yao’s friend interrupted him, before introducing himself as Su She. 

As they went in, Mingjue heard Meng Yao hiss something at Su She, who apologized profusely, stating he was just too hungry to wait any longer. Mingjue ignored it though, he did a good deed.

The first part of the meal was quite awkward, Mingjue had no idea why exactly but Zonghui and Meng Yao did not get along. They kept snapping at each other and rolling their eyes when the other said something. Su She mostly sat there in silence, only nodding along to whatever Meng Yao said like some kind of robot while Mingjue just tried to keep the peace. 

As soon as the waiter brought their hot pot, and they could actually start eating the conversation died down a bit. Whenever something was said it was either between Meng Yao and Su She or Zonghui and Mingjue. This wasn’t going too well… He almost regretted inviting them in. He definitely regretted it when Zonghui got a phone call halfway through dinner from his mother and urgently had to leave, leaving Mingjue alone with some people he didn’t really know. 

“Why did you come here with Zonghui tonight?” Meng Yao suddenly asked, only moments after Zonghui left. 

“Huaisang’s class got rescheduled, and alone wouldn’t have been fun”

Meng Yao hummed. “Then why didn’t you ask Xichen?” 

“Because he’s out with his brother” Mingjue said. Meng Yao raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say ‘what about it?’ Sometimes Mingjue forgot not everyone is as close to their siblings as he is, but he didn’t feel like explaining it any more so he didn’t. After a while though, Meng Yao just shrugged and continued eating. It was quiet for a while after that, nobody seemed to know what to say. 

“I don’t mean to be rude”, Meng Yao said, “but I always wonder… What do you and Xichen talk about? You two talk so often and have so little in common, I cannot help but be curious.” His tone sounded so condescending, Mingjue’s grip on his chopsticks tightened. He didn’t even know him? How was he going to decide whether or not Mingjue and Xichen had anything in common or had anything to talk about. 

Before answering, Mingjue decided to eat another piece of lotus root, giving himself time to calm down a bit and formulate an answer. “Many things, actually. Usually we start off telling each other about our day”, Mingjue began. 

“Very domestic”, Su She laughed, after which he winced in pain so softly Mingjue almost didn’t notice.

He ignored it though and continued. “We often talk about our brothers too, and our jobs, we’re mostly just getting to know each other.” 

Meng Yao nodded along as he spoke. “Ah”, he commented, “So nothing too… intellectual, excuse my choice of words” The arrogant smile he gave Mingjue before he called for a waiter and asked for the bill only made it worse 

“What do you mean by that?” Mingjue hissed.

“Oh, I just mean that it’s so different from what Xichen and I speak about usually”, Meng Yao grinned. “Not that I’m surprised” Su She nodded in agreement with a laugh. Mingjue was trying so hard to stay calm and not give this brat a piece of his mind. He had no right calling him stupid, he didn’t even know him? The waiter came back with the bill. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” Meng Yao told Mingjue as he paid. “Dinner is on me, see you tomorrow.” 

Mingjue was still fuming when he got home. He angrily paced through the house for a while, went on a run and even then he was still aggravated. He had asked Zonghui to call him when he could so he could vent, but he hadn’t gotten a reply yet. He thought about calling Huaisang for a moment, but he didn’t want to bother him with his problems right now. He decided to play the game some more, at least there he could give Meng Yao a piece of his mind and nobody would know. 

As he started his computer, his phone buzzed. Someone was calling him. Assuming it was Zonghui, he answered without even looking who it was. He was about to start complaining immediately, luckily he didn’t, as it clearly wasn’t Zonghui at the other side of the line judging from the warm greeting he heard as soon as he answered. 

“Hey”, he whispered, his temper disappearing almost immediately, “how was your evening?”

“Wonderful, thank you for asking”, Xichen chimed, “How was yours? A-Yao said he saw you and Zonghui at the new Haidilao near campus” He sounded a bit strained mentioning Zonghui, did he know Zonghui and Meng Yao didn’t get along? 

“I was supposed to go with Huaisang, but school ruined our plans”, Mingjue explained, “Letting our reservation go would have been a waste”

Xichen agreed with him. “Thank you for getting A-Yao in too, apparently Su She forgot to make an appointment, he’s so forgetful sometimes”, Xichen giggled, had he not, Mingjue probably would’ve gotten mad again at just having to hear about those two again. 

“I couldn’t leave your best friend out in the cold, could I?” Mingjue muttered, opening the game with some harsh clicks.

“A-Yao said he and Su She had a great evening, thank you Mingjue.” 

Mingjue really wanted to punch something. Of course Meng Yao had had a great evening, taunting Mingjue like that. For a moment he wanted to tell Xichen what Meng Yao had told him, how he’d made fun of him. He knew Xichen had no reason to believe him over his friend of several years. All he could do is prove Meng Yao wrong. 

The rest of the conversation with Xichen was casual and light, like all of their conversations. Xichen complained a bit about how shopping with Wangji was absolutely impossible sometimes. After that they just exchanged funny stories about their brothers. He liked how he could just be himself around Xichen, fool around and make jokes. Tell embarrassing stories without being judged. Still, Meng Yao’s words kept ringing in his head. All fun and light but nothing intellectual. 

God, he didn’t even know what Meng Yao meant by that. Did he want them to talk astrophysics or what? Did he expect them to discuss art styles and medieval paintings every conversation? 

He heard Xichen yawn. It was long past his bedtime already and Mingjue always felt bad for keeping him up late. Especially when he knew Xichen had to teach early tomorrow morning. “You should go to bed”, Mingjue said. 

“I am in bed”, Xichen murmured before changing the call to video. The view Mingjue got was one he never wanted to forget. Xichen was bundled up in his sheets, arms wrapped tightly around the plush tiger Mingjue had given him. Cheek squished against the pillow and his hair messy in the cutest way. Mingjue’s heart was surely going to give out. “Turn on your video”, Xichen requested quietly, 

“Promise to go to sleep after I do?” Mingjue asked. Xichen hummed softly, moving around a bit to turn off his nightlight already. 

As he turned on his own video, Xichen smiled widely. “You look handsome”, he whispered, barely loud enough for his phone to pick up on it. 

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, Xichen”, Mingjue confessed, which caused Xichen to hide his face in his pillow with an embarrassed groan. “I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow” 

Xichen turned back to the camera, hiding most of his face behind the plushie still. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and Mingjue’s fingers itched to tuck it behind his ears. “If you want to see me tomorrow then you’ll have to stop saying such sappy things”, Xichen complained.

“Then go to sleep, I’ll keep my sappy words for tomorrow”, Mingjue laughed. 

Xichen nodded from behind the plushie. “All right, good night, Mingjue. I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.”

“Me neither. Sweet dreams, Xichen.”

#otome gay #nielan #nie mingjue #lan xichen #mirf writes #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi

[incorrecttowerofgodquotes]

A Loud Night

This is a small preview into the fic I’m writing. This won’t appear in story and Bam’s gonna be the main character, but I wanted some experiencing writing this setting.

It was time for the night shift at Hansung’s Diner, the most boring thing of all time. At least, thats what Ehwa thought. She had no problem working during the day when she had classmates to talk to and gossip to overhear, but during the night shift many shady characters popped up. Whether it be truck drivers or people from out of town, Ehwa simply served them and walked away. The times where she wasn’t serving were occupied with cleaning the diner or browsing her phone. That’s exactly what the first two hours of her shift were made of. Wash the tables, take orders, carry food out, and then go on Twitter or Instagram. She had just finished serving an old truck driver when the door to the diner opened with a bang.

“Ugh, I feel like shit.”

“Don’t lay on me asshole!”

“Khun, calm down.”

A rowdy bunch had made its way in. Four boys from her grade-Khun, Bam, Shibisu, and Hatz-had arrived. Not an ideal group to talk to, but she supposed it was better than nothing. Judging from their smell and the time of night they arrived, Ehwa surmised they had just come from a party. Shibisu seemed to be the only one who was actually drunk, but Hatz and Khun were a bad combination. And Bam...being around him was awkward. She still remembered the time when she had a crush on him, a simple childhood crush that never went anywhere. She kissed him once during a game of Spin the Bottle. While young Ehwa almost died of happiness, current Ehwa almost died of embarrassment every time she thought of it.

The four of them took a booth in the far back and Ehwa counted down from ten before walking up to them. Khun and Bam were sitting pretty close to each other, but then again those two have always been touchy. Shibisu was slumped over onto the table while Hatz half-heartedly rubbed his back.

“Good evening. May I take your order?” Ehwa asked them while holding a notepad.

“Look at that, we got ourselves a cute little waitress.” Khun teased. Ehwa flushed red. Did he really still hold a grudge over that kiss?

“Shut up with those remarks or I’ll be the one cooking your food.” Ehwa retorted. She didn’t enjoy putting herself down, but if it got Khun to shut up she didn’t care. He put up his hands in a mock surrender and started laughing.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll take a french toast and Bam…” he turned over to his friend.

“I’ll have pancakes if it’s not too much trouble.” Bam said.

“And what will the drunkard want?” Ehwa asked.

“French toast as well I guess. Also bring him a coffee. He’s only had beer in his system the past seven hours.” Khun said.

“Aren’t you gonna ask what I want?” Hatz grumbled.

“You always talk about how you don’t like eating food with too much fat or sugar so I thought you wouldn’t anything.” Ehwa said. Hatz was one of those overly athletic types, always stressing over what was good to eat and what was not.

“I get hungry too! Just give me an omelet or something.” Hatz ordered. Ehwa scribbled down on her notepad and left the table to their own discussion. She tore off the slip of paper she wrote on and handed it to the chef. It was around 15 minutes later she received the food and balanced it on her tray. Carrying orders over for the past year have trained her not to stumble or tilt the tray. For someone from a esteem family like hers, this detail would go unnoticed, but Ehwa took pride in that fact.

“Here’s your order.” Ehwa stated while putting the food in front of their respective owners.

“You almost looked like a real waitress then. Next time try balancing a tray on your head.” Khun joked. Ehwa kicked his shin while holding the cup of coffee over his head. After that he immediately quieted down. 

“So, who hosted the party?” Ehwa asked. She did a quick look around the diner and figured that nobody needed help at this time. 

“Serena this time. Were you not invited again?” Hatz asked. The comment hurt, but it was also a simple fact. Ehwa wasn’t invited to many parties, not ever since she began working at the diner and getting roped up in “gang activity” as the locals called it. To interact with “those people” was a disgrace. However since her mother and aunt never cared about who she interacted with, she didn’t care what others thought either.

“I was invited. But as you can tell I have to work tonight.” Ehwa said.

“Your mom makes enough money. You don’t have to work.” Khun stated.

“I may not have to work, but I’d rather get a headstart in life unlike you guys.” Ehwa retorted. Khun scowled at her, which made Bam let out a tiny laugh.

“How’s Elaine? I haven’t heard to much about her for the past week.” Bam asked Ehwa. Why was it when anyone wanted to know about Elaine they went to her first. Whether it was her friends, Elaine’s family, or the police, everyone assumed Ehwa knew everything the older girl was up too. Though maybe it was for good reason, but Ehwa tried her best to hide that part of her.

“I don’t have a leash on that girl. She hasn’t been here in three days.” Ehwa answered.

“Maybe she finally got put down? Wouldn’t surprise me-ack!” Khun yelled out in pain as Ehwa kicked his shin hard. He was started to make a rebuttal but the fury on Ehwa’s face shut that down instantly. Suddenly she heard the ring of the door behind her.

“Speak of the devil-or should I say wolf?” Khun remarked. Ehwa looked behind her and saw Elaine coming in with Alphine. The older girl was wearing a leather jacket and tight blue jeans. She had flattened hair probably cause she was wearing a motorcycle helmet just before then. Their eyes briefly met before Elaine and Alphine sat at a booth closer to the door.

“Excuse me, I have a customer to serve.” Ehwa stated before turning around to walk away.

“I bet food’s not the only thing she’s gonna serve.” she heard Khun snicker. Ehwa thought for a moment of turning around and beating the blue haired man with the tray, but she’d rather not appear in such an insightly manner. She walked across the dinner and headed towards Elaine’s booth.

“Good evening. May I take your order?” Ehwa asked.

“Do you always start with that bland response or is it just for me?” Elaine joked. It was when she spoke that Ehwa realized she missed the sound of her voice. The deep yet gentle tones it carried was like music to her ears. Not to mention now that she was closer to Elaine she saw just how handsome her face looked and how brightly her eyes sparkled. Ehwa pulled herself out of her thoughts by reminding herself customers, specifically Khun, were still there.

“It’s part of my job. You can take it up with Hansung if you don’t like it.” Ehwa stated.

“No, I like it when you’re on the job. Especially since I get to see you in uniform.” Elaine smiled. A blush made it’s way onto her face and her legs felt weaker than usual. Ehwa never liked the silly waitress uniform she was made to wear, but if Elaine liked it then maybe she could like it too.

“I’ll have an omelette.” Alphine spoke up. Ehwa pulled her eyes away from Elaine’s and onto her notepad. She began scribbling the order down and waited for Elaine to answer.

“I’ll have pancakes and sausage. A coffee as well.” Elaine answered. After more writing, Ehwa headed towards to the cook to place in another order. Immediately after giving the order, Ehwa walked back to Elaine’s booth. She felt Khun’s stare directed at her back and she’d bet money he was smirking.

“You haven’t come by in a while, everything okay?” Ehwa asked.

“Well, Hansung told me it’s bad for business if I come by during the day and I didn’t want people talking bad about you, so I’ve been coming at night. Though since you weren’t working night shift the past few days we missed each other.” Elaine explained. Elaine wasn’t one to follow rules or suggestions, so the fact that she did for Ehwa’s sake...it made her weak all over.

“You don’t have to do that. Feel free to come by whenever I’m working.” Ehwa said. Elaine smirked and poked Ehwa’s thigh. Ehwa let out a squeak and backed up a bit. She heard laughter from the booth in the back and now regretted not performing tray assault.

“We’ll be out of here after we eat.” Alphine stated. Ehwa felt her spirits dampen a bit. She wanted to talk to Elaine for a few more hours, even being in her presence was good enough for Ehwa. Elaine noticed Ehwa’s demeanor change and gave her another poke.

“We can talk later tomorrow. If you wanna go for a ride with me.” Elaine suggested. Ehwa smiled and gave a small nod.

“I’d love too. Then I guess we can talk tomorrow. I’ll get your food and-” Ehwa was cut off by Elaine shoving a ten dollar bill into her hand.

“I’ll give your tip early. Since you were having a conversation with the guys in the back, you better go finish it.” Elaine winked. Ehwa looked at the crisp bill with admiration before putting it into her pocket. Elaine was her best tipper, she didn’t need to give money since her being there was enough, but she’d never turn down more money. Ehwa went back to the guys’ table with a neutral face.

Khun was smiling like a Cheshire cat while Shibisu was still passed out. Bam seemed to have gotten closer to Khun, resting his shoulder against the bluenette. Hatz was the only normal one in their group Ehwa surmised.

“How much money did she give you?” Khun smiled.

“Why do you care?” Ehwa asked?

“I was just wondering what amount of money-” Hatz and Bam both moved to block his mouth but he dodged their hands and finished his sentence “got her special services.” Ehwa saw nothing but red and raised her hand. The next day Ehwa had her pay halved for assaulting a customer with a tray.

#tower of god #tog #fanfic time #yes im still shipping ehwa and elaine #and no you cant stop me

[funkymbtifiction]

Please help me with this Fe/Fi mess

I’ve read many times that Fe types (regardless of stack) need to talk their feelings through with someone else that they feel better after it. And that Fi types either don’t enjoy or actually can’t talk about their feelings. I’ve had many Fi users in my life and I definitely agree with how they deal with feelings. It doesn’t seem to matter whether they’re FPs or TJs. But with Fe users it’s very different.

The FJs I ever come across are very expressive and don’t run away from a talk about feelings even if they don’t initiate it. But not the TPs. I haven’t met many, but I noticed some things: ExTPs are expressive like FJs in the moment, tough they seem to hate “sappy” things. But I don’t know whether it’s because most of the IxTPs I know are 9s, but they don’t fit the bill. In all the time I’ve knew them they’ve never shared much in that area. As friends we all know what they think, what they like/dislike, not really what they feel. It seems to take something major to bring anything a bit deeper or vulnerable to the surface. 

This would be just an interesting observation if it didn’t confuse me so much when I apply it to myself. Though I keep on second guessing my type it and changing my mind, I have mostly been sure I’m IxTP. I landed on it through simple math: 1) Dealing with feelings has been a clear weakness through my life, and a source of envy 2) I relate a lot to Ti’s tendency to nitpick, correct, dig deep, categorize, criticise and at times overcomplicate compared to Te’s A to B straight and utilitarian thought pattern. I love to explore and speculate on information, I don’t need to use it to achieve anything other than enlightenment. I don’t need a point to think about something, thinking is the point.

But whenever I read material on the feeling functions I can almost always relate a lot to Fi, and much less or nothings at all to Fe. When I’m not myself my internal feelings and behaviors match better with Fi than low Fe. The harsh decision making and cutting people out of my life, the self pity and martyr-hood thoughts, my natural vindictive “an-eye-for-an eye” streak wanting to teach people lessons. I also never met an IxTP that has expressed having an internal emotional life similar to mine. It could be just my wrong impression from the outside, but even through talking and asking they all seem so chill, I wish.

Another thing: ethics and morals. Again Te/Fi and Ti/Fe people are supposedly very different, but I can never relate to or understand Fe’s relative ethics and learned morals. If anything I’ve been accused of being rigid ,and a lot of my decisions in keeping or ending relations (even with family) are based on clashing values and people saying/doing something I deem unforgivable.

I gave up on trying to nail my Enneagram core since it kept me on this hamster wheel not knowing whether I might be mistaking motivation for cognition. I considered that what I thought was Ti could be due to Enneagarm. But after I got some recommended books and read on that type and asked people close to me it became clear that’s not even my fix on that center.

I think that once I’m sure of my type in one system the other one will be clear to see. It’ll close possibilities due to cross system compatibility. Clearly I’m missing something because things are not fitting right. I know people of the same type aren’t clones so differences will exist, but I also agree that one must assume they’re the rule and not the exception, so why can’t I fit in?

Inferior Fe is generally... immature, lacks nuance, and judgmental. OR it totally ignores moral arguments and/or behaviors, has no sense of self, and isn’t sure how to handle other people or their feelings and finds it hard to articulate itself or express its own needs or ask for the right to discuss whatever is troubling them. These are things it learns as the person matures. What you say here:

The harsh decision making and cutting people out of my life, the self pity and martyr-hood thoughts, my natural vindictive “an-eye-for-an eye” streak wanting to teach people lessons. [...]  If anything I’ve been accused of being rigid ,and a lot of my decisions in keeping or ending relations (even with family) are based on clashing values and people saying/doing something I deem unforgivable.

... could just as easily apply to inferior Fe as a Fi user.

To me, you have an ITP ‘vibe’ to the way you’re communicating with me. What do you mean by ‘harsh decision making’ -- that you are making decisions like a thinking dominant, based on broad and non-nuanced ethical judgments about people and deeming them immoral and then abandoning them? That sounds like low Fe to me, which has no great capacity for wiggle room. An INTP I know is excessively logical, yet gives NOBODY second chances -- they violate his moral standards, they are gone. But he is still hyper-analytical and detached. He wants people to get paid back for their sins, but does not actively do it. He is also rigid and judgmental at times and has not spoken to a particular person he refuses to associate with... for over ten years. So, if -that is your only hangup, and you totally relate to Ti-dom posts, rethink how Fi works and consider that your ‘rigidity’ in these judgments is much more like immature Fe than FPs, who tend to assume that everyone is who they are and has a right to be that way and have a tendency to used nuanced, feeler-based reasoning. It is the TP who must learn to deal with others on a moral level in a nuanced way, not the FP. ;)

I can’t speak to your enneagram with enormous confidence, since this is not much to go on, but some of what you said sounds 4 winged to me (self pity, feeling like a martyr, being vindictive, not feeling like you are like other ITPs or that they have your rich inner emotional life, feeling like you don’t fit in) so I’m guessing 5w4, possibly with a sx variant. Start there and explore. :)

- ENFP Mod

#question #enneagram #enneagram 5 #istp #intp #mbti #5w4 #submission

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through IX

Chapter: 9/16

Rating: U

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

"I'll leave you out here to have your little tantrum, alright? I'll be inside when you've calmed down." John spat, quickly storming back into the club without giving a second glance to his friend.

What was his problem? Tonight was supposed to be fun. John always seemed to encounter that problem: whenever he was trying to have a good time, which was almost all of the time, someone had to go and ruin it by getting upset over something or making everything all serious for no real reason. He was sick of it, even if Ringo was his best friend he wasn't going to put up with tonight being derailed.

Ringo's words had stung him deeply, as much as he wasn't willing to admit it, even to himself. John had heard time and time again that he wasn't sympathetic enough, but he didn't view himself that way; more often than not people didn't even tell him what their problems were then would suddenly explode out of nowhere and blame him for not noticing the fuse being lit. Ringo rarely did, this was one of the few occasions he let his emotions get the better of him and John didn't have the patience, not tonight.

There was only one person left who'd give him the time of day right now, and that was Paul. John shoved his way through the crowds more aggressively than he needed to, but it at least felt good to exert the anger somehow, and asked the first dancer he saw if they'd seen Paul. His name was Stuart, he'd been working at the club the longest therefore he knew John the longest; when he'd first started coming here Stuart had been his favourite, but that all changed when Paul came along. It had gotten past the point of John even needing to ask where Paul was, if any of the workers saw him approaching they immediately knew what question was going to fall from of his lips. That didn't stop John from asking though, just because it was a strip club didn't mean he'd forget his manners. Stuart had given an unsure answer, John always thought he was a little bothered about being replaced by Paul but that might have been his ego talking.

John continued his search, trying to ignore how sticky the carpet was as he tried to move around - whose idea was it to put a carpet in a strip club? It didn't take long to find Paul, he usually always had a crowd of a few people around him and tonight was no exception. As soon as Paul noticed John he politely ended whatever conversation he was having and headed over to him, as he always did. The spat with Ringo had made John forget the reason they were even here tonight, or at least why he was here: to see Paul like this. He looked absolutely breathtaking, if John didn't know any better he would've thought Paul was biologically female. Makeup sculpted his already feminine face, his long eyelashes even longer and darker, his plump lips even plumper. He was wearing the highest heels John had seen so far, a black platform boot which went all the way to his thigh. Over his body was a dusty pink chiffon robe, loosely flowing over his bare arms, which he hadn't shaved much to John's approval. This sight was exactly what he'd been waiting for, and now that he'd seen it all the frustration about what had just happened seemed to melt away.

"You alright, love?" Paul asked, he stepped away from the group he'd been talking to and brushed John's elbow to turn his body to face away from them "Fancy some privacy?"

John let out a weak laugh "I don't have any money." He admitted "I was kinda hoping Ringo was gonna bail me out."

Paul chuckled and John couldn't help watching his coloured lips curl "Is that why you brought him here, so he could pay for your dances?"

"Well it wasn't not the reason." John felt himself easing up already, Paul's hand was still brushing against his arm.

"I can take my break and we can sit in the back, if you want to." Paul quietened his voice a little.

"Sounds like a plan." John never wanted to seem too enthusiastic when Paul suggested this, but he didn't think he did a great job of hiding it.

Paul nodded and started walking around the edge of the stage until he came to a door marked only for staff, he had to punch in a combination on the wall before the door unlocked. This was far from the first time that John had sat with Paul in the back room, in fact he struggled to even remember the first time it'd happened.

As much as John had wanted Ringo to believe he'd only been coming to the club recently, it was a gargantuan lie. John had been coming here for years and the majority of that time had been spent with Paul. The first time they 'met' unfolded with Paul approaching John who had been sulking in a booth surrounded by empty beer bottles. Paul had later explained that he went over to him because he had looked eccentric, with his multicoloured striped trousers and brown fur coat - not to forget the pin.

"Eccentric means one of two things: money or trouble." Paul had explained much later "I don't need to say which one I got from you."

John had been immediately taken with Paul, though he'd never tell that to anyone, with his doe eyes and honeyed voice. When it had gotten to the point that John couldn't afford any dances, Paul had offered a couple for free; the exact wording had been that it'd be put onto John's tab, but so much time had passed since then and no such tab had been paid off. Eventually though, Paul made it clear that this imaginary tab wasn't limitless and that he couldn't make a living off of charity. John had been determined to find a way around it but money hadn't been easy to come by for him at the time, no publisher was interested in his poems and he had no clue what to write his next book about. Paul had caught wind of this, namely because John had gotten drunk and complained about the abysmal condition of his life, and thus a strange new transaction began. Paul loved poetry, and there was no joy greater than discovering a work that nobody else had read before and through John he was able to experience this joy over and over again.

When Paul had suggested to John that he could pay him in poetry, he burst into a fit of laughter that didn't subside for several minutes at least. Once he realised Paul was being serious, the most productive writing period of his life began. The two of them never discussed the poems themselves, it all transpired like an illegal art deal as John would hand over the shabby piece of paper and Paul would accept it with a smile, slipping it into his pocket - or wherever he could fit it - then would lead John away to a private space. Unfortunately, the love Paul had for John's poems wasn't going to pay the bills either and even this had to come to a halt. Yet all was not lost, for Paul had discovered very quickly that when John was craving to see him, he wasn't really desperate for a lapdance, rather he just wanted some intimacy with someone, someone who couldn't express any judgement. This realisation led Paul to inviting John into the staff room, it wasn't completely unheard of for dancers to do this but it was mostly reserved for friends rather than customers, where the two of them would sit and chat over a drink or two.

It was policy to keep a bottle of alcohol in the staff room at all times, just in case of emergencies. But as the manager wouldn't allow anything to be taken from the bar, it meant an array of cheap and often obscure liqours being brought into the room.

"What have we got tonight?" John asked as they took seats by the mirror - luckily Paul was always here to distract John's gaze so he could avoid looking at himself.

Paul stuck his head under the countertop and returned clutching a bottle "Amaretto, it looks like." He read.

"That's barely alcohol." John scoffed as Paul set up two glasses in front of them "Well, at least I can drink it straight."

"Think we need to make a rule that if it's not at least 30% it shouldn't be under the counter." Paul suggested as he poured a healthy amount for the both of them.

John was already drunk enough, but he was never one to turn down free alcohol. They cheersed one another and drank a fair bit before slamming the glasses back down. There was nobody else in the room, as was often the case on a busy night like tonight. Before John had laid eyes on it, he'd expected the changing room to be some kind of kinky sex dungeon with whips and chains on the wall, so naturally he'd been very disappointed to see it was like any other changing room, except with a lot more glitter and a better smell.

"So, do you wanna talk about it?" Paul asked, looking at John through the reflection of the mirror.

Their chats almost always started this way, John had noticed that very early on. Whatever answer he gave, Paul would always respect it. He never understood why Paul just let him ramble on about his problems, or expect Paul to ramble on to distract him from said problems. In the end he supposed it was cheaper than therapy, he could only suppose since he'd never actually been.

"I'd love to, but I can't really. Ringo would kill me." John explained with a sullen look.

"I understand." Paul smiled softly "Whatever's happened I'm sure it'll be fine, you've been friends forever after all."

"For sure." John mumbled, and that was Paul's cue to begin the distractions.

"Tonight's been a right ballache, no pun intended." Paul began inspecting himself in the mirror "When I suggested it, everyone was all for it and now it's all 'Paul, my feet hurt' or 'Paul, this bra makes me look fat'."

"I think it was a great idea." John took another swig of his drink, his eyes were focused on Paul's reflection.

"Oh yeah? And how would you rate the illusion out of ten?" Paul smirked.

"Ten." John answered bluntly "If I was straight, I'd be having a right crisis after seeing you."

"It's a good thing you're not then." Paul rummaged around in a bag that was on the counter, eventually pulling out some mascara and touching up his makeup "I've just had the best idea."

"You'll never charge me for a dance again?" John suggested with a grin.

"You wish, love." Paul winked "No, what I actually had in mind was trying some of this makeup on your lovely face."

John paused "And why would you wanna do that?"

"It'll be fun! Don't you want to see what you'll look like properly done up? I bet you'd make a pretty girl." Paul urged, he was already laying out his makeup out.

"I've worn makeup before, Paul." John stated somewhat defensively.

"Eyeliner and tinted lipbalm doesn't count." Paul retorted, gesturing with the tube of mascara.

John sighed in resignation, scooting his chair a little closer to Paul's, who beamed in excitement. It was moments like this that made John want to question exactly what this dynamic was, he wanted to avoid the word relationship at all costs. On the one hand they saw one another every week or so, always dropped whatever they were doing to speak to the other and had spent hours of time doing nothing in particular besides chatting and laughing. Yet they'd never exchanged numbers, they didn't even know each other's last names and neither of them had explicitly expressed that they enjoyed spending time with one another. Sometimes John thought Paul did it merely to keep him as a loyal customer, and once he realised he wasn't going to be getting any money from him in the future he'd drop him in an instant. But here Paul was spending his only break trying to cheer John up, he didn't even need John to tell him that something was wrong, he just knew. Perhaps John had gotten so angry with Ringo because he'd been able to admit what John had never been able to. Perhaps.

The two of them continued talking and joking with one another as Paul delicately painted John's face. He'd almost finished John's second eye when his phone suddenly vibrated. John didn't need to check it to know it was Ringo, most likely apologising, and so he paid no notice to it. All of this would've blown over by the morning, he saw no point in dealing with it now.

"Aaaand done." Paul announced proudly, he leaned back in his chair to get a better look at his work and his smile only grew.

"This better not inflate my ego any further, I've already got enough issues because of that." John prefaced before he turned to look at himself in the mirror.

The sight absolutely stunned him. Naturally he had to move a little closer to the mirror so that he could get a proper look, a strip club was the last place he'd ever wear his glasses. Most interesting was how Paul had almost painted his own face onto John's, it was like looking at some strange feminine hybrid of the two of them. What John loved most was the eyes, how smoky and alluring Paul had made them.

"After all these years of people telling me to go fuck myself, I can safely say that I would." John turned his face from side to side to get a full view.

"You look gorgeous, John. But that's nothing new." Paul's eyes were filled with joy as he watched John's reaction.

"You're proper good at this, maybe when you get too old for stripping you could be a make up artist." John suggested jokingly which earned him a glare from Paul.

"The day I get too old for stripping is the day you earn a steady wage." Paul quipped back, the two of them began laughing before the door suddenly opened dramatically.

Behind the door was Stuart looking fairly alarmed, it was no surprise that he knew to find the two of them back here. He didn't even question why John was currently covered in makeup, it wasn't the strangest thing he'd caught them doing.

"Bloody fight's just broken out." Stuart explained as he walked into the room, Paul immediately rose up from his seat.

"What happened?" Paul asked desperately.

"I dunno. Two lads just started going at it, think Spike might've been involved." Stuart explained "They've both been kicked out now, it's all fine. Just thought you'd like to know."

"Nothing worse than missing a good fight." John added, he thought that Stuart had been speaking more to him than to Paul.

Just as Stuart opened his mouth to speak, the door opened again, and Spike walked in. He paused when confronted with the sight of everyone looking at him, as though they'd been expecting for him to show up.

"If you stare any longer I'll have to charge." Spike made his way over to his locker and began to change, he didn't seem phased by John being able to see him.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Paul walked over to him, inspecting his face and arms for any damage.

"I'm fine. Some prick just got a little too big for his boots and someone stepped in to help." Spike turned to look at John "It was your friend, actually."

"Not very bloody likely." John gaped "Are you sure?"

"Short guy with a beard. Wears a lot of rings." Spike detailed "That's him isn't it?"

"Shit." John sat back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh "Didn't think he'd go that mental."

"Someone's gonna have to cover my last dance cause I'm not going out there again tonight." Spike ignored John's words and focused on Paul and Stuart "I'm sick of these creeps, I tell you."

"I'll cover for you." Stuart responded almost immediately "Are you gonna be alright?"

"I can get you an Uber home." Paul chimed in, looking around for his phone.

"No, no, it's fine." Spike paused and took in a deep breath "I just need to get out of here."

He'd changed out of his previous outfit, it couldn't really be described as clothing, then headed back over to the door. With a quiet muttering of goodbye, he was gone. Stuart soon followed after him, he didn't tend to stick around too long when Paul and John were on their own. Paul sighed as he sunk back down in his seat, any time anything like this happened it always took a toll on him; it just brought up memories of all the times something similar had happened to him. Now wasn't the time to dwell, not when he was meant to be making John feel better, who was currently gazing off into space.

"Are you gonna go looking for him?" Paul asked, more of a suggestion than a mere question.

"Nah." John sighed, picking up his recently refilled glass "Sounds like he's in a right state, I'd probably only make him worse."

"You should text him at least, it'll make him feel better." Paul pressed his hand onto John's knee.

John paused "You're right." He breathed then pulled his phone from out of his pocket.

Ringo responded almost immediately which was a good sign, it meant he wasn't completely pissed off with John. As much as he knew Ringo wasn't going to take him up on his offer to head home with him if he'd been refused entry, he offered it all the same. All this was very much rehearsed, up until the next message Ringo sent. He was going out for drinks? With who? Wait.

"No fucking way." John almost gasped which alarmed Paul.

"What? What?" Paul leaned forward to try and get a view of the phone.

"He's going for drinks with Spike." A huge smile spread across John's face "Ringo, you bastard."

Paul didn't respond immediately, he took a moment to process exactly what John had revealed with those words and how in retrospect everything then made sense. Instead he picked up the rapidly emptying bottle and topped up their glasses.

"Good thing we've got our own drinks here." Paul said somewhat quietly, then picked up his glass to cheers with John once more.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." John mocked, but both of them knew all to well that he wasn't joking, it was probably the most genuine thing he'd said all night.

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