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obeiii-mee · 4 years

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Hi I hope you're fine! Can you make the reaction of the brothers to a Mc who managed to overtake Salomon and made 100 pacts, the 100 th being ... Diavolo himself ?! (idk if it is really possible) Thank you love on you

I don’t really know if it’s possible either but I gave it a go anyway! I love this concept tho because MC, being the powerhouse they are, now has absolute control of 100 demons one which is actual prince of hell. Idk why I find that funny tbh.

I hope you’re well too and that you enjoy reading these HCs!

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The Brothers Reacting to MC who made 100 pacts:

Lucifer:

-*Surprised pikachu face*

-I’m sorry, w a t?

-Not only did an average human,with no magical capabilities whatsoever, beat a spectacular sorcerer in the span of just one year and managed to make 100 pacts before him

-But they also made a pact with Lord Diavolo as a grand finale??? (MC knows how to leave DevilDom with class holy shit)

-If you look closely enough, you can see Lucifer’s wheels spinning inside his head

-And here he thought you were going to get eaten in the first few days

-He needs to sit down for a few moments, his fucking logic has decided to take a walk

-He really went 0-0

-And on one hand, he’s totally impressed and actually very proud of their little exchange student

-But on the other hand, when tf did you have the time to make 100 pacts??

-You talked with at least 92 other demons and didn’t get murdered?

-Are all humans this hard to kill off or it just you?

-Taking aside his confusion and the way he worries like a middle aged parent, he’s actually pretty boastful about your situation

-Pride on another level, I’m telling you

- Pretty smug about it to Solomon too which is concerning because he isn’t really supposed to have favourites in the exchange program

-But he totally does

-“MC, you’re full of surprises aren’t you? You’re ability to adapt here is very impressive. Just don’t get too reckless, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

-Aw your tsundere and arrogant boyfriend actually really cares about your well being

Mammon:

-“But I’m still your first man, right?”

-Literally the first thing that leaves his mouth when he finds out

-Doesn’t matter how many pacts you make, he’s always going to insist he’s your first and therefore your best pact of them all

-He may freak out a bit at first because he doesn’t like the idea of you possibly chatting it up with other demons but he’s pretty chill

-Until you tell him about Lord Diavolo

-“Guess who just made a pact with Lord Diavolo!!”

-“Is it someone famous?”

-He’s a bit scared because the price you have to pay to be in a pact with Lord Diavolo is pretty damn high

-But if you keep insisting you will be fine, his worry will subside

-He’s a bit smug, like Lucifer, knowing you beat a powerful sorcerer in a non existent contest that he just made up in his mind

-Like “In your face Solomon, MY HUMAN got to make 100 pacts before you had the chance. Haha what a loser.”

-I feel like the brothers sometimes wish to just abandon Mammon somehowere so they don’t have to deal with this

-Dude doesn’t care how many pacts you have or with who as long as you remember ‘he was your first man.’

-Of course you of all people would be able to attain such a significant achievement

-You were his human after all

-No matter what you do, he will be even more smitten with you than before

Levi:

-“That’s cool. Will you pass me my headphones.”

-“....”

-“Wait....you did whAT?”

-You’re telling him that he barely has the courage to step outside the House of Lamentation but you can go right ahead and start making pacts with demons like it’s nothing???

-Did he just get beaten at life by a normie?? His normie even??

-He’s really panicking because the shit you’d have to deal with when making that kind of bond with Lord Diavolo is apparently very terrifying and he’s scared something bad will happen

-Pacts also mean markings on your body, so his whole jealousy thing kinda sparks here

-Because ‘it’s not fair you have all these people’s pact marks on you while mine is barely visible!”

-Even though his is like, really obvious too???

-Other than that, he just feels like you’re gaining EXP and getting stronger, like a video game character which is cool

-I want him to show up whenever MC gets in a new pact and just shout ‘Level Up!’ at the top of his lungs lmao

-He doesn’t have that much of an opinion on Solomon, besides his cooking, but he’s impressed and a bit scared that you can outdo a human like him in something as dangerous as this

-Lololololo, Solomon got wrecked by a human normie what a noob XD XD #badassnormie #solomoncanteven #gameoversorcerer

-The brothers seem pretty adamant at rubbing the salt into Solomon’s wounds, can we get an f in the chat for our white haired wizard boi

Satan:

-He knew that humans were capable of a lot of things but what the fuck?

-How is that even possible???? What is the likelyhood of a random human managing to make 100 pacts???

-He is probably the most unsettled because he relies on probability and logic to get him through his day to day life

-And that shit don’t make no fucking sense

-He’s not agitated, just very shocked

-And then he realises the potential threats you’ve been exposed to considering all the demons you’ve had a chat with

-So now he’s just thanking Lord Diavolo that you weren’t eaten alive by some lower level demon scum

-Don’t be surprised if he asks you how you went about when you started making pacts with demons

-You were always a bit of a special case and you certainly stood out from the very beginning but this was something completely different

-For a human like you, that is a very respected achievement you’ve unlocked

-Satan figures that since you made pacts with him and his brothers, you would try to do so with Lord Diavolo too

-But he actually accepted?? You just kinda gave up part of your soul to the demon prince and now you have full control over him???

-It’s amazing how easily you could make demons of all things to trust you

-He respects that and also appreciates your tactical approach to this as well

-It’d be pretty easy to summon a demon to get your ass out of danger if the need arises

-He has no idea what you do to him but it’s strange he would rather let you ramble on about the backstory of every pact you made in the past year than read his collection of books

-Wrath certainly isn’t the only thing in his heart right now

Asmo:

-#conflicted

-His partner beat his ex fuck-buddy at making a pact with Lord Diavolo

-Asmo knew you were special ever since that retreat at Lord Diavolo’s palace when you managed to summon him with such power

-But he definitely wouldn’t have guessed you would be capable of something like this

-Your bravery when it comes to this sort of thing endears him a lot

-He will probably want to see all of your pact marks now (haha you’re in danger)

-Unlike his brothers, he knew damn well why you had managed to make around 100 pacts in just one year

-Demons aren’t used to anything genuine or with good intent

-So, it makes sense they would be attracted like magnets to you and your approachable, kind nature

-After all, demons can’t deal with temptation very well

-Solomon is cunning and ominous, not that different from anyone else down there and it’s a fact the brothers don’t even trust him that much

-But Lord Diavolo?

-“MC honey you hit the jackpot! Tell me every little detail!! What happened? How did the topic of a pact come up?”

-He’s not worried about you overall

-Not because he doesn’t care but he believes that if you can survive for a year with the seven avatars of sin and also convince 93 other demons to make a pact with you, then you can handle whatever Lord Diavolo throws at you

-He probably buys a bunch of revealing clothing you can show off all of your marks because they look ‘fabulous’

-It’s the only think he’s gonna talk about for a while because how many other humans can say they have control of the prince of Hell???

-Asmo also acknowledges that Diavolo must have trusted you a lot for him to agree to this which he thinks is incredible

-He will definitely listen if you have any stories on the pacts you made because he finds them very thrilling and he loves the sound of your voice!!

-Again, he doesn’t need human souls, just a mirror, some skin products and drama to survive

-And you, if I had to guess

Beel:

-The calmest our of the seven about it

-You made a bunch of pacts? Cool, it just shows how strong and independent you are

-Which made him respect you even more to be honest

-He flinches a bit when you tell him about Lord Diavolo because he knows that the prince isn’t the type to agree to anything without being given something in return

-Even if he knows you can handle yourself, he will be right there beside you to help you out

-Also, uh, don’t tell Belphie about the pact thing Diavolo. He might blow a fuse

-You guys work out together sometimes and he is usually utterly mesmerised by all the pact marks you have on your body

-He kinda wishes you would have asked him or one of his brothers to come along with you when you made your pacts

-Just in case things went wrong

-He regrets a lot of things that had happened until now, but one thing he absolutely cherishes is the pact you made with him

-Beel is aware that his brothers think the same and if you think you can deal with the pressure of having some many demons under control, then he won’t nag you too much about being careful

-As for the Solomon thing, he doesn’t have much to say

-I mean, yeah, he is a sorcerer and you’re just a human but if you could make a pact with Lord Diavolo in such a small time frame before he even had the chance to?

-It means you’re just as special as he is

-And definitely a better cook

Belphie:

-ok maybe humans aren’t as stupid as he originally thought them to be

-Making pacts with so many demons is something that takes strength and intelligence, so props to you

-He would never admit it, but you being able to do all this shit without batting an eyelid is seriously restoring his love for humans and their culture

-might take a while tho

-He also wonders when you had the time to make so many bonds, considering he spends most of the day with you at RAD and at home

-Eh, he was probably asleep

-His view of you before the incident did a full 180 degrees

-This sort of thing in DevilDom is something worth praising, especially for an average human like you

-And ‘I guess you don’t look all that bad with so many pact marks on your body *angy boi blush* but I still like mine best!’

-It might be best not to mention the Lord Diavolo thing, otherwise his brain might snap in two

-But turns out, he seems pretty relaxed about it

-Too relaxed, I would say

-“Hey do you think you could use your pact with Lord Diavolo to do something that would tarnish his reputation and maybe embarrass Lucifer while you’re at it, idk.”

-Ah, so that’s what it was

-He’s such a mischievous, spoiled brat

-“No Belphie shush.”

-“I’m just saying-“

-Despite him hating humans way less nowadays, he still holds somewhat of a grudge against them

-Old habits die hard I suppose

-Especially for Solomon whom he never liked in the first place

-He finds it very amusing when he figures out you just beat Solomon at his life’s work in under a year

-He has a good chuckle about it but never actually brings it up in front of him

-Because he knows you’re gonna flick him over the ear for it

-Belphie is the youngest sibling and therefore the spoiled child, can’t change my mind

(Ok so poor Solomon, I kinda want to give him a hug now lol. Hope I didn’t make these too repetitive or short. Thank you for reading!)

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #⭐️ requests #🕯 general #☂️ demon brothers

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nanso · 3 years

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Pretending that Rhaegar wasn't gonna be super gross and marry his daughter(s) to his son (Aegon) and he wins and becomes King, who do you think he'd betroth the remaining Targaryen family to, and why if you're up to it?

Oooh, this is a really interesting ask! I don't know how well I'll fare but here's a try

Since you said 'he wins,' I'm assuming we're talking about a canon divergence from how the war ends (and not, for example, divergence of no rebellion). If Rhaegar won, everything is still a mess of course cause buddy boy and his pa pissed everybody off. There's a lot of ways this could go because various questions/strands can lead to multiple divergences, for instance:

-Are the rebellion forces so decimated that they can't really push back against the crown? (The rebel forces were doing pretty well since the Stoney Sept and the royal forces got pretty squashed at the Trident)

-Immediately after killing Robert, does Rhaegar suddenly grow a brain and say 'Ok, let me try to reason with them and what kind of agreement we can come to now since I 1) set all this in motion 2) disappeared for, shit, a really long time and 3) endorsed what dear ol' dad did by fighting against the rebels.'

-Or Does Rhaegar believe that by winning, his reading of the prophecy is correct and validated - and therefore says 'fuck it, I do what I want!'

-What's up with Tywin and the Lannister forces?

Let's handwave somethings for simplicity since this is supposed to be an entertaining and fun ask **jazz hands** And we'll even give Rhaegar the benefit of the doubt (even though he doesn't deserve it) and let's assume he realizes that he really needs to make amends and show that he respects the noble houses and people of the realm. I operate from the mindset (others may not agree with that) that Rhaegar would actually really need to show the realm he is *not* his father and that he respects them.

I think it's somewhat fair to argue for a betrothal between Aegon and Margaery to reward the Tyrells (not that Mace Tyrell really did a lot - Tarly was responsible for Ashford and the siege at Storm's End "dragged on a year to no result," as Tyrion notes in ASoS). But they stuck by the crown technically so <shrug> - lock down one of the few friends you got.

There's the matter of Tywin - did Tywin come in to help defeat the rebel forces? IIRC, the treasury was doing fairly well during Aerys's reign, according to Ned in AGoT ("Aerys Targaryen left a treasury flowing with gold") so I'm guessing Lannister money wouldn't be necessary. But maybe Rhaegar asks a favor of the High Septon (not sure why the HS would be inclined to grant it if this Rhaegar is like "polygamy rules!") and asks for Jaime to be released from his vows. That isn't much pertaining to marriage but relevant to stability. But if Tywin was part of them winning at the Trident perhaps, that changes things. (Otherwise if he did nothing - can't see him being rewarding with a betrothal at all)

You could also make an argument that a betrothal to a future daughter of House Baratheon could make sense (if, again, Rhaegar wants to make amends - which also will have to go beyond betrothals, I’d argue. But it also may be a step too far when it comes to amends). But this scenario is also reliant on Stannis having a daughter (also not sure who he would be married to in this scenario, tbh).

As for Rhaenys, again it depends on a lot of the factors above. I, personally, don't think Ned is going to want to have anything to do with the crown whatsoever (I'm assuming Rhaegar, in this AU of him growing a brain, doesn't send Ned to the Wall after his dad killed Rickard and Brandon) - so sorry my RobbxRhaenys peeps. But maybe Hoster decides he'll take a tie to the crown as a peace offering - and she is betrothed to Edmure.

I think Viserys wedding Arianne makes a lot of sense, tbh. While the Martells were technically allies, they were forced into it - on top of the various insults to Elia and House Martell by Rhaegar. They're gonna need a little bit of assuaging to soothe things, I'd think. And given that Viserys would be next in line to the throne after Aegon, that should go a long way - particularly with Jon around (as a bastard).

If this is after the war, Daenerys should technically exist. It's not clear to me how old Monford Velaryon is - but he could make sense as a longtime Targaryen ally (though I believe Lucerys was part of the Aerys faction at court/on the small council...). But hopefully Dany just says 'fuck this noise!' and decides she likes hanging out on Dragonstone and finds some eggs and hatches them and flies around happy.

That isn't terribly creative, I'm afraid (I didn't even touch the Vale cause I have to get back to work soon, sigh). In any case, there are just so many what-ifs and unknowns about what would be happening after Rhaegar won so I'm sure there are a lot of holes in the above and other reasonable choices!

#asks #what-if #Rhaegar Targaryen #aegon vi targaryen #rhaenys martell targaryen #ASoIaF

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revolution-john · 3 years

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My Childhood Trauma PTSD as Triggered by the Following Movie Montage

by BENJAMIN DREVLOW

That scene in American History X. You know the one. Or maybe it was Higher Learning, I always get those confused. That curb stomp scene always reminding me of the time I tripped and face-planted in the barn while corralling bull calves, to get castrated, my two front teeth chomping down on all that jagged concrete and manure, it adds a different flavor to the recurring nightmare I have, though in my case, usually nothing to do with race relations. I wonder if everybody else who watched that movie also missed the whole point of it. Except the Curb Stomp. Everybody remembers where they were when their stoner friend with big ideas about ending racism across the world made them watch the movie with the Curb Stomp.

Mel Gibson getting drawn and quartered in Braveheart. You may take our lives, but you will never take… our… FREE-DOM!

Mel Gibson ripping his shoulder out of its socket in Lethal Weapon.

Mel Gibson torturing the shit out of Jesus, then blaming the women and Jews for everything, including his drunk-driving and plummeting career options.

Fuck pretty much any Mel Gibson movie. Except maybe that one with him and James Gardner and Jody Foster and all their comedy hijinks. It’s the gambler one but not The Gambler. But now that I think about it, isn’t Jody Foster a big Mel Gibson apologist? So I guess fuck that movie too.

Any movie where somebody gets shot or stabbed or thumbed in the eyeball or has one or both of their eyeballs squeezed or ripped out, which always reminds me of that time I got elbowed right below my eye but also on the eyeball and it literally pushed in my eyeball a millimeter and I still get double vision to this day whenever I line up a shot playing pool or line up a screw to hang a photo on the wall or sometimes re-hang the toilet paper dispenser next to the toilet. I’d been playing pickup basketball and my buddy who was like four inches taller than me elbowed me on a rebound and like I say I went down and lay there on my back and then all the blood started pooling in my eye socket and I couldn’t see anything and my friend couldn’t see my eyeball and he kept hissing through his teeth grossed out by it but then telling me it would okay and the whole time lying there thinking I’m thinking about my eyeball I’m thinking of the scene in Any Given Sunday where the guy’s eyeball is just lying there on the football field. I’m thinking of that closeup all the way to the hospital when they unwrap the mummy gauze from around my head and the ER doctor breathes a sigh of relief after peeling off all the dried blood to reveal that I needed fifteen stitches and I’d broken my orbital bone, but I still had my eye.

Any movie where somebody’s sitting there reading a book before bed, watching TV, gossiping with girlfriends, when the camera pulls back only to zoom back in on the dark night window behind them—cue the string section.

If I had to choose one, I’m thinking of that one zombie movie, something 28 Days something but not the one about Sandra Bullock finding love with Viggo in rehab. It’s not even about the zombies. It’s about the dark night window, not to be confused with the Dark Knight window, sorry that was a shitty pun for no good reason whatsoever, but also maybe not completely random with the guy from 28 Days also having played the scarecrow in Batman Begins where he sprays people with a drug and makes them see their worst fears, which never really did it for me, at least not like the secluded house with the zombies lurking around. I grew up in a big old farmhouse out in the barrens of northern Wisconsin. Lots of windows, no shades. In so many ways I grew up in the dark. It wasn’t the zombies I worried about. It was the methheads. Which, sure, I guess if you’re getting technical about it, same thing, fine, you win, I’m scared of zombies.

The Zapruder film, but as replayed by Kevin Costner in Oliver Stone’s fever dream of a conspiracy theory. The magic bullet, back and to the left, back and to the left, back and to the left. How it gets stuck in my head, JFK’s exploding head replaced with my brother’s exploding head, sometimes my own, except unlike my brother and JFK, my head’s still mostly intact. Back and to the left, back and to the left. Sometimes I think about that too with that one Seinfeld episode with Keith Hernandez and the magic loogie, but usually the loogie gets replaced with a bullet and Kramer’s head gets replaced with my brother, mine, back and to the left.

The sound of the gun shots in the final scene of that Tom Hanks movie where he plays himself again, a good guy, a family guy, a sly sense of humor, but this time a mob hitman with a strained relationship with his oldest son. The look on Tom Hanks’ face walking back to the house from the ocean—having survived it all, the hit that his old mob boss Paul Newman had put out on him for putting a hit on his old mob boss’s son as played by James Bond who also played Ted Hughes in that movie about Sylvia Plath killing herself. But this is past all that, it’s the happy ending. They’re on beach somewhere, white sand, somebody’s house that Tom Hanks and his kid are going to live in now. The silence before and after. Jude Law! It’s Jude Law’s face, his eye all fucked up, how did it happen, I don’t really remember the specifics but I remember the specifics. Bang, bang, bang. I think it might’ve had something to do with Jude Law being a photographer, like one of those where you pose with your kid or something or say you get promoted to head CEO or godfather of the family. Smile. Click, click, except in this case with a gun.

The gunshot at the end of American Beauty, pretty much the same thing, different movie. Chris Cooper confusing Kevin Spacey as gay but before Kevin Spacey actually came out as gay and a sexual predator. Not that the latter necessarily had anything to do with the former. Neither in the movie nor real life, well not really, but sorta. You get the point.

Jared Leto as Angel Face getting his face smashed in by Ed Norton as Brad Pitt as Tyler Durden’s split personality in Fight Club. Not so much Jared Leto, but the wet mushy sounds of it. That part on the audio commentary where Chuck Palahniuk and David Fincher defend the violence of the movie, Fincher pointing out that he was not glorifying violence, he was making it realistic. That’s what it sounds like to punch your opponent into the concrete, Fincher says and Palahniuk laughs and agrees. Don’t worry I’m not going to make any puns about the first rule of fight club.

That part of that one weird depressing Robin Williams’s movie where Robin Williams’s kids get killed in a car accident while backing out of the driveway on the way to school. The one where Robin Williams later on gets plowed over by a truck going the wrong way while Robin Williams is out trying to help another couple who’d been injured in a different car accident, but before all that his wife kills herself because she can’t take it and then Robin Williams goes to the suicide afterlife to save her. But then there’s fucking Cuba Gooding Jr. who—spoiler alert—turns out to be the ghost/angel of his dead son who then explains to Robin Williams that his wife/Cuba’s mother can’t be saved because she killed herself. It doesn’t matter that she had a pretty fucking good reason too, she’s still stuck face down floating around in that black swamp of bodies of everybody else’s killed themselves and nobody’s getting to heaven. That shit really messed me up—not the car accidents, but the afterlife for selfish losers like me who kill themselves. And/or my brother.

The bulging vein in Tom Cruise’s head from Magnolia. Respect the Cock and Tame the Pussy, Respect the Cock and Tame the Pussy. I think probably my therapist would have some thoughts about all this, and some questions. Questions and thoughts.

That one version of A Christmas Carol where the Ghost of Christmas Past undoes his robe to show off the alien children living under his robe.

I got the worst set of blue balls you could imagine while taking my best friend’s girlfriend to Baz Lurman’s remake of Romeo and Juliet. That Romeo and Juliet. I missed most of it, I kept having to go to the bathroom to masturbate in agony and to no avail. Leo and Claire Danes are hot and heavy on an acid trip, and every time my best friend’s girlfriend reaches for a handful of popcorn she makes sure to wipe the butter off on the inside of my upper thigh. This is what I get for being the good guy of falling on the grenade for my best friend, the grenade in this case being Shakespeare and my best friend’s hatred of literature.

Mark Wahlberg’s flaccid rotten dick in Boogie Nights.

The Secret of the Crying Game but not in a transphobic way. No, it’s the smallness of it what got me back when I watched it as a teenager. The tenderness. The growing tent in my pants at its sudden appearance on the screen. Maybe you don’t believe me but I was a naïve podunk kid from off the farm. I didn’t have cable. I didn’t have access to the internet. His/her (now their) secret opened up a lot of questions for me. I often dream of dressing up in drag and someone sucking my little bitty dick and if that makes me a little bit gay or maybe bi or what’s it called, body dysmorphic. I mean I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, it’s the new millennium, we’re all a bit sexually confused aren’t we?

This one porno my friends and I watched at somebody’s uncle’s cabin up in the U.P. for a three-on-three basketball tournament. The Snapping Pussy. The sound her vagina made, like somebody really dramatic at clicking their tongue and slurping a half-empty malt the same time. The scene of us boys all sitting there with our boners watching a porn and wanting to masturbate but not because we were all boys and we were afraid we’d be gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a little bit gay.

There was this made-for-TV movie, me six years old and home alone while my big brother, supposed who’d to’ve been baby-sitting me, the only time he ever babysat me that I can remember, maybe because his one time—that time—he didn’t actually babysit me. He went out to a party, while I watched the made-for-tv movie about some kid who’d watched his mother get murdered, and then goes mute, keeps drawing these pictures of Peter Pan and Captain Hook. The kid’s grandfather, one of those big hooks, like the one in I Know What You Did Last Summer, but this was long before that, though I’m not sure it was before the book. Did you know that there was a book I Know What You Did Last Summer? I mean this isn’t about the book or the movie, this is about that kid whose grandfather had molested his daughter for years and then as an adult gutted her with a fishhook and then how he’d then come back to finish the job with his mute grandkid, I don’t know how this movie ever got green-lighted (green-lit?) for TV, but then it’s weird to even think about those made-for-tv movies and if they actually existed or if I’m just making this whole thing up, but then my brother, we had a walk-in basement at the time, this being before I’d accidently burned that house down with two space heaters stolen from the barn, before my brother’d killed himself, he’d come back late, or probably it was only eight or nine, but I was young and alone out in the woods where we lived, and he’d come back through the basement, which was attached to the family room, where I’d been watching and then all of a sudden that kid on TV was being stocked by his granddad with a fish hook and the door to the basement was opening, and for god knows why I’d turned off all the lights to watch the scary movie by myself, and it turns out it was just my brother who’d go on to kill himself in like a year, maybe six months, and he was just playing a little prank on me, or maybe he’d just come through the basement for some reason, he was always hanging out down there and tinkering around with things, but in my mind, I can remember that exact look on his face, that smirk, even in the dark, the light from the television in a blacked-out room, a blacked out house, reflecting off those pop-bottle glasses of his, the shiny too-big-for-his-face silver frames. My mother always tells me I should try to remember the happy times I had with my brother, and honestly, I can’t, I can only remember that smirk, those glasses, the handle turning a moment before he appeared.

Any and all sequels where it turns out that the dead character didn’t actually die at all, or maybe it’s magic, or maybe there’s time travel.

Any happy ending ever.

Every ending in my worst nightmares involves everyone I’ve ever loved or hated, their faces turning to snake faces. Snakeheads, snake arms, snake butts. Snakes snakes snakes. They slip out of their clothes and come up from under my bed, slither under my covers. They bite me, they kiss me, poison me, they consume me whole and regurgitate my bones. That’s how they always end. Me dead and abandoned.

That scene in the first Indiana Jones with Indiana Jones and getting trapped in the cave with all the snakes. I hate snakes. All my worst nightmares turn to snakes. Fuck snakes. This all might have something to do with my undersized penis. If you want to go down that path. The Secret of My Crying Game.

Has Mel Gibson ever made a movie with snakes? I don’t know, you tell me, but fuck that movie if he did. Mel Gibson is snakey enough on his own.

BENJAMIN DREVLOW is the author of Bend With the Knees and Other Love Advice from My Father, which won the 2006 Many Voices Project, and the author of Ina-Baby: A Love Story in Reverse, which was released by Cowboy Jamboree Books in 2019. Buy his books here. He is currently at work on a novel, a novella, and a collection of story-poems. He serves as the Managing Editor of BULL Magazine (@BULL_magazine_) and is a lecturer at Georgia Southern University in Statesboro, Georgia.

#benjamin drevlow

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orionlakehastodie · 4 years

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We Can Leave The Christmas Lights Up Until January

NA Modern Shirtbert AU

He was eighteen and too young to know that what he was doing was stupid.

She was eighteen and too young to care even though she knew.

“Let’s move in together.”

He’d been her friend for many years, a rival, a nuisance from when she was growing up. But somehow underneath all that, he became her Gil. The love of her life.

She was eighteen and young, but there were truths you knew no matter what age you are.

Maybe it’s your old soul, from another life, that knew with as much certainty as you did.

That Gilbert Blythe was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with was one of them.

“Anne. Move in with me.”

So was there any other answer other than yes?

---

It wasn’t easy telling your parents who stood firm on values and virtues that you were essentially going to live in sin with the boy from the Blythe farm.

“You... you are not even... live together... with Gilbert!”

But she stood firm, because she loved him, stupid with it, brave with it, sure with it.

“I’ll marry him anyway. I’ll spend the rest of my life with him anyway. What difference does it make, if I start now or after college.”

Marilla wanted to ask how she knew, how she was so sure. But she had been in love with a Blythe boy from the Blythe farm once. And she knew, for a fact, that you love them forever.

"Oh... Matthew talk to her.”

Because she wasn’t a reliable source, not when it comes to Blythe men.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.” She smiles then, everything in her relaxes, as if the mere thought of him, of loving him, was enough. For anything.

“More than I can say. More than I imagined.”

Which was saying a lot, she imagined her tragical romance and all... and she never thought it would be Gilbert.

“Then that’s all I need to know. Be happy my girl.”

She smiles and looks to Marilla, who sighs and raises her arms in resignation. She hugs them in thanks, and runs outside only to find Gilbert pacing a hole in her front porch.

She smiles when he raises his head and looks at her, the furrow on his brow ever present and she jumps into his arms. He smiles, tension easing from him.

He held her hand as he swore to Matthew and Marilla to love her. Not care for her, not be responsible for her, not be her chaperone. But simply to love her, and be there for her when she needs.

He didn’t ask for permission. Knew it was not his place. Knew Anne was not some product handed to him. She was a person, someone he loved, and he simply promised to love her.

She never thought she could love him more in that moment, but she did.

She loved him more and more with every passing moment.

---

He was eighteen and in love but she was a bed hog.

She had no respect, whatsoever for personal space.

It wasn’t the first time he shared her bed... well that was a story for another day, he thinks, with his ears turning pink and his naked torso feeling hotter than usual.

But he would usually leave at 2 in the morning to sneak out of her dorm bed.

He never actually slept a full day with her. Until now. And she was such a bed hog. Her arms and legs are splayed between them and he was pushed to the end of his side of the bed, without a stitch on his naked form, and she was heavily wrapped around the quilt, drool from her open mouth flowing onto her pillow.

She was beautiful like this.

So beautiful like this. His Anne with an E.

With a smile he carefully lifts the quilt and untucks it from her burrito form and she grumbles a bit, but remains steadfastly asleep.

Then he tugs her arms, pulling her closer to his chest, and cuddling her close, tucking them both in the quilt.

“You’re cold, Gil.”

She mumbles as she tangles her legs with his, and rubbing her nose against his neck, burrowing there.

“Whose fault is that?”

“Sorry.”

He chuckles and kisses her hair.

“Nowhere I’d rather be darling.”

She was fast asleep again but he savors the feeling of her against him.

“I love you.” He whispers against her skin.

��Love you. Go sleep.” She tightens her arms around him and he falls asleep like that, in her arms.

---

“No it was your turn to pay the electricity, Gil! I put up the bill on the fridge.”

“Well you know how it is with us and notes - your note fell off! You could have sent me a text!”

“You never read my texts! Not when you’re off with your pre-medicine buddies with that Dr. Ward!”

“No, Anne, you just didn’t charge your phone - again! Because you were out for so long with Cole doing the Lord knows what-”

“My study group doesn’t allow phones you know that!”

“This is 2019 not 1989 Anne!”

“What does that have to do with you not paying our electric bill!?”

He growled at her and she growled back.

There were days when they still fought bitterly with each other. But that was the way they worked.

It wasn’t always easy, living together, seeing each other at the best and worst of times - but he learned to be patient, he learned to communicate, to want to be understood, to work things out - even if it meant 2 AM fights in the bitter cold in their electricity-less apartment.

He sneezes and she sighs, anger forgotten as she touches a hand to his forehead. “You feel warm.”

He grabs her hand in his and lays his forehead on hers, huddling closer in his blanket to her.

“Sorry I didn’t pay the bill.”

“Sorry I didn’t call you about it. How was your exam?”

“It was okay... It’s ending soon, I know I’ve been absent lately but-”

“No Gil.”

She shakes her head and takes his hand, kisses it.

“We help each other, okay? This was a bad week, but we’ll work it out. I’m sorry I exploded... I just... you can hang out with me, I wanna hear about your stories.”

“Why, Miss Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, are you jealous of the amount of time I spend with my pre-med counselling group.”

“Maybe.”

He smiles and pulls her close. “If I can stay in this blanket with you forever I would. There’s no one else for me Anne. Now... about Cole.”

She giggles and silences him with a well timed kiss to his lips.

---

She loved him, truly she did, but as his MCAT drew near, Gilbert became more and more of a big fat slob.

Four years it’s been. Four years that she lived with him and it was never this bad.

He had clothes littered all over the place, she couldn’t find a pair of socks that matched, and his books were scattered all over their bed. Their wall was covered with hundreds of sticky notes and there was Gilbert, the love of her life, in his boxers, a pen in his hands, chewing away at his nail beds as he typed from a book he was reading.

She didn’t say anything, but continued to pick up his clothes and throw them to the bin.

During her thesis submission he was the patient one who picked after her, and now she was her to submit the favor. She would never have written her novel if he didn’t help her. If he didn’t soothe her moods. Force feed her when needed.

And now a publishing house wants to hire her and her life was beginning.

And she wanted to be the same support to Gilbert that he had been to her.

So she grumbles to herself, but she picks up his clothes and straightens the sheets, and presses a kiss to his unwashed head with his unruly mane of hair and he absently grabs her hand and kisses the palm before muttering away at his notes and books once more.

She smiles and decides she might as well do his laundry so she takes the hamper to their tiny wash area in their kitchen and she checks his pockets because Gilbert always has some piece of paper stashed there but then she turns one of the pockets inside out and out falls a turquoise box creating a huge thunk on the floor and her heart drops to her feet because she has seen that box before.

And with shaking hands she drops his pants and reaches for the box, opens it and gasps because there, right there, was his mother’s ring. Of the modest emeralds that reminded his father of his mother’s eyes.

The same eyes that she passed to her son. Her Gilbert. The love of her life.

“It was my mother’s.”

She startles at his voice and he was still in his boxers, with his feet bare and staring at her from across the kitchen foyer and love for him just fills her up. He smiles as the tears drip from her eyes and he kneels down to her, and clasps her hands in his, the ring in her hands.

“My father gave it to me before he passed. He told me he wanted to give it to me - to make sure, I remember how precious love is, and how I should value it - because I don’t know when it will be taken from me.”

He brushes her tears away, rests his forehead against hers.

“I knew, from the moment you hit me with your magic erase board all those years ago that you were it for me Anne. I loved you from that moment. And I never stopped. I never will. I know it has been fast for us... we lived together all this while, but that’s because I knew. There will never be anyone else for me but you Anne. My Anne with an E.”

“Oh, Gil.. I’m sorry it took me a little longer. But I love you. I do. Enough to put up with your snoring and you being the world’s biggest slob.”

He laughs and kisses her. And she laughs and pulls away.

“Wait! You have to ask me.”

“Oh, this was not how I imagined it. I imagined... well wearing pants for one.”

“Gilbert!” She chides him with a laugh but his eyes grow serious, and looks right at hers, in that way of his, in that all consuming, see through my soul, are you really here, loving me kind of way.

“Anne... I have to know... will you do me the honor of becoming my life mate?”

She smiles because he remembered, from that one conversation they had.

“Yes, Gilbert. A thousand times yes.”

And he kisses her and she knew... with every scar on her, she’d take this man to be her life mate.

---

It wasn’t always rainbows and sunshine.

She was busy as a writer - she had multiple deadlines, she lived on coffee and toast most of the time.

He was in medicine, he barely slept, he was always in school and there was a million hoops he had to jump.

They sometimes only saw each other on the weekends

Chores were left undone

Dishes piled in the sink.

There were a couple more times the electricity went unpaid.

But through it all they loved.

The Christmas lights stayed up until January because she loved twinkle lights, and loved the way they shines on his hair as they sat under the tree talking about their days.

They danced around the kitchen, and they ate out of the pan.

She still hogged the covers.

He still cuddled her even though she’s a bed hog.

She likes to watch him wake up, and would often absently kiss the top of his head when he’s buried in work.

He likes to read lying down on her lap as she read edits her editor sent.

This was their love, they made the rules. It wasn’t perfect... but it was theirs.

#shirbert #gilbert x anne #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #amybeth mcnulty #lucas zumann #anne with an e

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dollsome-does-tumblr · 4 years

Text

little women (2019) thoughts

that was very entertaining & lovely, and for the most part i thought that mixing up the narrative structure/chronological order was a great way to do a fresh adaptation of such an oft-adapted story. the ending kind of lost me, though, because it got too meta for my brain to handle.

like, i was basically math gif lady trying to figure out if jo actually married bhaer or not. what! is! the truth!!!!???? (screams) was the publication negotation stuff before bhaer came to visit her? was all of that sequence just made up? did it start being made up after he left the house? was it a weird sliding doors situation and jo march literally had two endings in different realities, as posited in an article my mom just read online? WHAT IS THE TRUTH???

(this also made me realize how absolutely feral i am re: jo/bhaer, because the idea of her not marrying him and her relationship with him being dismissed as trite and unimportant made me SO MAD!!!, even though i know that is basically what LMA was dealing with irl and that she married jo to him because jo had to marry someone at the end and she wanted to spite the jo/laurie lovers! but i don’t care, okay! i love jo and bhaer!! I LOVE THEM ALWAYS!!! respect my love for them, universe! i also found this movie’s take on his character quite charming and new.)

i really loved the focus on amy and laurie’s relationship growth and how we were given that before jo/laurie -- it felt really refreshing.

also, florence pugh really deserves an oscar for this performance just for being so consistently god damned delightful. justice for the much-maligned amy march at last!! it really was so great to my amy-loving heart.

random critique: i found the music sort of underwhelming in this. there were a few scenes where the score played over jo/laurie scenes that felt like they would’ve worked SO much better without background music.

laura dern burning her husband fictional amos bronson alcott with “you’re not an immigrant, dear, so shut up” or whatever was truly everything to mine and my bf’s obscure-american-transcendentalists-knowledge-loving hearts. YES. amos, you absolute mess. you well-meaning, insufferable human disaster.

timothee chandelier (as he is known in our house) is way less annoying to me when he is acting. when he’s in action, he’s perfectly all right! it’s only in still photographs, i’ve found, that his delicate elfin features deeply disturb and anger me. sorry, buddy!

i did find it pretty funny that after the media really hyped up that saoirse/chandelier magic for this whole press tour, this was the first adaptation i’ve seen where i felt like there was just NO romantic spark between them at any moment whatsoever. which, i guess, is consistent with lady bird, albeit in a very different context.

i think overall, out of the three little women adaptations i have now seen, 2017 is the best in terms of being a satisfying/pretty-thorough-and-faithful adaptation of the book itself, 1994 wins the most perfect, gorgeous, soul-nourishing movie ever made award, and this movie ... exists too!!! but in a fun way.

(YOU CAN PRY THAT “NOT EMPTY NOW” SCENE FROM THE 1994 MOVIE FROM MY COLD, DEAD HANDS!)

#dollsome's deep thoughts #little women (2019)#little women

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otterknowbynow · 4 years

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Altean Home Economics (9/?)

Goo is great, but Hunk sure would feel better if they had kitchen access.

all chapters in this tag | ao3 link in reblogs

“So you’re just going to mix these together and see what happens?” Keith asks from the other side of the island. Hunk nods, still stirring the bowl in front of him with the silicone scraper he had eventually found in one of the kitchen’s dozens of drawers. Three more bowls line the counter in front of him, each about half-filled with goopy mixture.

“That’s the plan, Kogane my man.” Keith’s brows somehow furrow even lower at this; he frowns, gaze still fixed on the bowls.

“Don’t call me that,” he says quietly. The last place people called him by his last name alone was the Garrison, and usually in circumstances he’d much rather not think about. Keith shoves those memories to the back of his mind, trying not to examine them too closely. Of course when he does that, it leaves the front of his mind free to focus on everything he’s been worrying about ever since he first saw Ulaz’s blade. He frowns, shakes his head a little to clear that away as well, which Hunk apparently takes as further emphasis.

“Okay,” he agrees, wiping the scraper off on the side of the bowl so the rest of the dough he’s mixing drops in. “I can respect that -- anyway, yeah. We’ve got four different mixtures here -- Pidge found two raising agents and two grains, so I figure we’ll combine them -- with some water -- every way they can be and see what happens, first off. Figure out how the different flours respond to different leavening. And apart from these, I’m gonna throw together a couple of starters and see if we can find any, uh, space yeast, from the castle. Who knows what’s in here?”

“I guess you’re going to,” Keith says with a shrug. “Never really got into baking.” There wasn’t much reason for cookies and cakes while he was out living in the desert, tracking messages he didn’t know yet were from Galra ships, or getting pinged by Blue’s calls from where she was buried in the canyon. Food was a means to survival, not an avenue for creativity. If he was going to spend his energy on putting together a meal, it was going to be one he’d get at least as much energy and use out of as he put in. And before that, well, there hadn’t exactly been tons of opportunities to experiment in a kitchen.

“Oh, you’re missing out, buddy.” Hunk shrugs, then smiles across at him. “We’ll get you on the baked goods train soon enough!”

“If you say so,” says Keith. The bowls just smell like variations on play-doh to him, which is not exactly appetizing, but he figures it must all be part of the process. He’s considering asking Hunk to explain a bit more about it when Lance’s voice cuts in, shouting from the other end of the kitchen.

“Guys? You still in there? Coran’s here to talk to us about that giant terrifying death machine that tried to kill us!” Keith looks at Hunk, who looks back, eyebrows raised, and shrugs.

“Be out in a minute!” he shouts back. He grabs a roll of some kind of flexible sheeting from an open cupboard and rips off a section of it to offer to Keith. “Help me wrap these up? Loosely, though.” Keith nods, taking the sheeting. Play-doh experiments are certainly at least more relaxing than sitting around and worrying about what’ll happen when they get to where they’re going.

“...and then it attacked Hunk!” Lance is finishing as they enter the main kitchen again. He’s standing in front of a giant appliance, easily twice the size of the stove Keith used -- well, occasionally used -- in his desert house. The thing has dozens of tubes coming out of it in a bunch of colors, but nothing that Keith thinks looks like it could attack anyone. He shakes his head: trust Lance to read something harmless as some kind of alien superweapon.

“There is nothing on that whatsoever that looks like it could attack Hunk,” he says irritably.

“I’m sorry, Keith, are you not seeing this?” Lance’s hands move around the surface of it so quickly that Keith isn’t at all sure which thing he’s supposed to be seeing.

“Am I not seeing what? Do you see anything here that looks like, I don’t know, a knife? a gun?”

“I mean, it was pretty scary when it all just shifted like that,” Hunk interrupts, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder before he can respond. “But I don’t think it’s a threat now.”

“It’s definitely not,” Coran says, laughing. “It’s just the staples querlay! I’m not sure how you managed to activate it without meaning to, but it’s certainly ready to go now.” He smacks the top of the querlay twice in quick succession, and it starts humming quietly. “So, what are you hoping for? A little yalmor fat? Some juniberry sugar?”

“Wait -- it can do that?” Hunk is looking at Coran open-mouthed, his eyes wide. Keith is lost.

“Do what?”

“Of course it can -- all your pantry staples at the touch of a button! Of course, it hasn’t been used in uh...several millennia, but in theory it ought to still work. Nothing doing but to try, as my aunt Inga used to say!” He grins widely at the three of them. “So, what do you need?”

“That’s...that’s how it works? It just gives you whatever you need?” Lance asks incredulously; Coran starts to answer, but before he can get a word out, Lance continues, voice rising with every word until he’s practically shouting. “Then why does it sound like a quiznaking nuclear missile when it opens? Just to terrify everyone around it?”

“Well, I imagine it’s a bit out of practice,” Coran says, shrugging.

It turns out that’s not exactly how it works, but Lance’s guess is good enough, it seems. Coran is in his element as he walks them through the machine’s control panel over the next ten minutes or so, and Keith absorbs enough of his enthusiastic digressions to understand that the querlay will produce any Altean pantry staple on demand, and a few from other alien cultures as well. Hunk seems entirely fascinated, and asks Coran rapid-fire questions as he goes through the panel, something that delights them both to no end. Lance, meanwhile, retreats back to the counter and sits down on the floor against it, muttering something about there being nothing wrong with being cautious around alien technology.

“So, what should we do with this?” Keith asks when Hunk and Coran seem to be winding down.

“Hm?” Coran asks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we still don’t know if it’s safe for human consumption, right?”

“We could take samples to Pidge in the lab,” Hunk says. He looks a bit pained. “Though I was going to get those starters together so they have some time overnight --”

“-- I’ll do it,” Keith says, relieved to have a reason to leave the kitchen. It’s not bad when it’s just Hunk explaining things, but the two of them together plus Lance’s whole...deal...is getting overwhelming. “I just need more of those containers to put a little bit of everything in.” Hunk nods, pointing at a cupboard under the counter opposite where Lance has apparently fallen asleep, his head resting on a drawer handle.

“There’s a bunch down there. Thanks, Keith. Coran, can I pick your brain about some of these things while I try to capture some migratory microbe colonies?”

“Of course!” Coran is halfway to the pantry already and in no way asking for clarification. “Why, I can tell you all about my boyhood baking days -- that was never Inga’s style, but my cousin Ira made the best sepkifruit pudding you’ve ever tasted.” Hunk laughs, following, and Keith sighs as the room quiets behind them before turning to the cupboard under the island.

#scribbles #voltron #vld #vld fic #I love all four of these boys v much

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metalchick19-blog · 5 years

Text

The Bowers Gang: Ship #7 - Victor Criss

Request: Congratulations on 200 followers!😁👏🏼💜 can I have a ship? I have light green eyes I have dirty blonde hair I have braces I also wear glasses😂 im 5”6 I’m a kind person and I’m kinda shy I like listening to music and getting high😂 I usually would wear jeans with my black hoodie and my converse and usually some rings with it thank you so much❤️❤️

Victor finally has a braces buddy, and he’s loving it

Way more attracted to you than any of his previous girlfriends, because you’re just killing the nerd aesthetic

Legit, girl. You’re the cutest person he’s ever seen - from your silky blonde hair to your adorably bespectacled eyes

...Seriously, dude - no joke. Victor Criss likes your face

You get to see a much geekier side of him than most other people see, because he feels you can relate to the parts of himself he’s insecure about (i.e. le brace-face)

Which basically means you get to know more of his real personality than anyone else

Gushes to you about his favorite books and movies, because he knows you won’t judge him for living the fandom life (Criss is a beast for good content)

Also open-mouthed smiles in front you, even though he typically avoids it like the plague with everyone else (huge deal for him)

Asks you to help him whenever he gets his braces caught in/on something

... Which happens at least once a day, because he’s never been able to put a shirt on without some of the fibers getting lodged in his brackets

Also picks things out of his braces in front of you, sometimes in very innovative ways (using a pencil, using a twisted up paperclip, etc.)

Which is mostly gross, but denotes the fact that he feels extremely comfortable with you

If you don’t feel honored by these genuine Victor moments, you will be slain

All the guys go through a major stoner phase when you first start hanging out with them

Wreaking havoc/fucking with other kids legit just turns into hot-boxing the Trans-Am and driving into town to get munchies together for the entire first month of your relationship

...Which makes it all the more surprising for you when the guys first open up a can of whoop-ass on someone with you in the vicinity

Totally throws you for a loop, because you had gotten the impression that they were relatively chill dudes by nature (stoner Bowers Gang is much more peaceful than regular Bowers Gang)

... They fix that incorrect perception for you over the course of the next few weeks though

Chilling side-note: Patrick wants you bad (at least for a night), because he can’t stop thinking about how your braces would tear his tongue to shreds every time he tongue-kissed you

Just revels in the fantasy of all that blood and spit (he’s a terrible human being - we know this)

Whenever you and the guys smoke together, 8 times out of 10, Patrick just holds the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds, then blows it out

Entirely because he wants to be the only one who’s sober, and none of you would allow that knowingly

Amps up his efforts to get you alone by 10,000 when everyone is high, because he knows your guard will be down, and the guys won’t be as vigilant about watching him

Victor is on it, though - even when he’s intoxicated

Either puts an arm around your waist/shoulders, or puts one of his hands in the back of your pants’ pocket, and will not move it from the second he gets high, to the second he comes back down

You will be next to him for the duration of the high; no separation whatsoever

Criss will not let his girlfriend be snaked by Hockstetter - every single guard is up

* Chilling side-note ended *

Cute side-note: You and Henry grow somewhat close through your love of the halfling’s leaf

He didn’t smoke much before meeting you, but started coming to your house to smoke and chill after especially bad encounters with his Dad (half to calm down, half to relieve the pain... *tears*)

Which means at least once a week, ya’ll are just chilling in your bedroom watching MTV and sharing your super woke high person thoughts with each other

Usually ends up staying the night, because he just passes out on the floor at some point

Is very respectful of your relationship though (Henry actually considers Victor his best friend) - never says or does anything that could be considered out of bounds

You really just become, and remain, very good friends

* Cute side-note ended *

Major bonus: Unlike Henry, Victor smoked on a regular basis even before meeting you, and rolls the neatest, tightest joints you’ve ever seen

Seriously - he has a gift; the nimbleness of his fingers knows no bounds

It’s seriously sexy to watch him do it, too - he focuses entirely on the task at hand, and tends to tilt his head in a way that sheds the perfect amount of light on his jawline

One word for it: Daddy

Victor puts his hands in the front pocket of your hoodie (facing you) whenever he gets cold

Partly because it actually helps, but primarily because he likes how hard you blush in response to his closeness

Many late-night walks where you guys just roam the streets listening to each other’s music (one headphone in your ear, one in his)

He makes a different playlist for almost every walk you take, because he wants to create an ambiance, and it’s adorable

You also trade each other a different song to listen to every day at school, because you’re both just hopeless romantics like that

Soooo many blonde jokes directed toward both you and Victor

Honestly, it can’t be helped

Whenever one of you says or does something even slightly air-headed, the guys take it as a chance to joke-insult both of you hard

... Which is awkward, considering both of you know you’re actually the smartest people in the group

Basically just the price to be paid for having the hair color that you have - sorry, friend

Henry and Patrick take your glasses at every given opportunity; you knew this would happen

Victor always gets them back for you...

... but will sometimes pretend to hand them back, then suddenly hold them over your head for a couple seconds, because he thinks your tiny rage is adorable (you’re so special that you bring out sexy bully Victor)

Always barrages your face with little butterfly kisses when he actually gives them back though, so you have absolutely no opportunity to stay mad

You lead a very happy, open, stoner life together, and honestly, more power to you

... Always make sure Patrick actually gets high when you smoke in group settings, though

Otherwise, some form of Hockstetter turmoil is very likely to catch up with you down the line

#henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #victor criss #The Bowers Gang #the bowers gang headcanons #it

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gaspbrat · 5 years

Text

Senior Year Hues

not blues

au where IT is just a normal travelling clown.

Georgie is alive and well.

As is the prom haze.

warnings: angery jealous eds, swearing

ENJOy, I don’t know why I never posted this. Undoubtedly was part of an entire series.

wc: 3500+

Gretchen Tozier was a beloved and respected 1968 partially black Barracuda “carefully” handed down through the family. Gifted to Richie’s uncle in ‘71, pawned off on Richie’s dad following his uncle’s first DUI and the damage that came with it in January of '72.

Two matte grey mismatched panels on the driver side door and the front bumper were added, hoped to be finished by '73 so Richie’s older sister could joyride through her senior year, seven years later. Thanksgiving that same year, though, dear Uncle Andy rolled through Derry again. He borrowed the car for about twenty-six minutes before overturning it on an embankment near Neibolt. Gretchen was towed, fixed and released back to his father a few months later. His uncle spent the night in the drunk tank, receiving his second and final DUI. Andy hasn’t returned to Derry or their lives since.

To his sister’s distaste, she would not be able to take it a few hundred miles down the coast to college with her like she had hoped. His parents told her she needed to buy her own, especially with her living on campus. She does, a beat up ‘88 Mitsubishi with peeling forest green paint and a bumper that didn’t match.

Richie, upon turning 15, bought her off of his dad for fifty dollars and a pay stub in '91. She has been appreciated properly for the next three wonderful years. Only the finest of company near Ol’ Gretchie.

Eddie definitely hated the ridiculous, loud, obnoxious piece of junk. He definitely didn’t end up falling for that piece of junk just like he did with its driver. Out of the question.

He didn’t get excited when he heard the rhythmic drumming of the old engine approaching his street from a block away.

He most certainly did not love the homey fabric of the seats with endless rips in them or the faint lingering smell of the little trees Richie puts up to mask the ghost of cigarettes past. (Eddie is almost certain they aren’t Richie’s, but if they were he knew Richie would never admit it.)

Eddie did not love that car. Whatsoever. But he did find a place in his heart for all the memories made with it. With him.

So when Richie told him he had to take it to the dump, Eddie nearly lost it.

“What do you mean you’re trashing it, I thought you loved that thing?!”

“Eds, why are you getting so upset, I thought you hated it?”

“I do (not), but… it’s sad seeing you just get rid of it like that.”

“You’re gonna miss ol’ Gretchie aren’t you, spaghetti?”

Richie knew his car didn’t actually need to be trashed entirely it just needed a few major repairs that he knew he would never be able to afford. At least not soon; not for another three months until he could save enough. And if Eddie found out he’d dump his savings into that thing no question. His little hypochondriac was far too good to him. Even if he wasn’t his yet.

Eddie always was ready to help Richie any way he could, he knew that wholeheartedly, but his stupid damn pride would not allow it.

Richie took up working overtime on the weekends just so he could get back to driving his little Eddie bear around Derry as soon as possible.

Gretchen was a staple in the Tozier’s Promposals. She accompanied his parents to their prom. He was not about to break this tradition just because of his bank account. Eddie deserved the best carriage for his first prom. He was going to have to swallow his pride and buckle in for the most agonizing waiting game of his life, so far.

“Hey, Richie,” Eddie called over to his friend, remembering an invitation he was to extend, snapping Richie from his brooding, “Bill’s having a sleepover tonight, did you want to go? He said you can pick the movie.”

Eddie’s smile was so genuine and hopeful the he almost said yes just so he could keep that smile right where it belonged always but he remembered he had to close tonight and work the mid shift tomorrow. And Bill never let him pick the movies, ever.

“Wish I could but I work tonight. Sorry, buddy.” he patted Eddie’s shoulder and gave him a weak smile.

“You’ll get along without me though, won’t you, Eds?”

“I guess… yea.”

Richie immediately wanted to take it back just to see that smile. Just to see those damn dimples.

He seemed to have gotten his wish when he noticed those big brown eyes light up.

“What about tomorrow? We could go see that movie you wanted to see?”

Again, almost horrendously, Eddie looked so hopeful to be spending time with him that Richie’s frozen heart thawed, just slightly.

“My old man wants me to help him get my sister’s junk out of the house and down to her dorm this weekend, shit, I’m really sorry Eds.”

Richie really really hoped Eddie would leave at that but of course not. He really wanted trashmouth to suffer even if he didn’t know he was suffering.

“..I could help?”

Eddie knew he just grasping at straws here but he really missed being annoyed by this dumb stupid asshole every day even though he would never tell him that.

“Eds, I’d love for you to,” the smaller boy’s eyes twinkled, “but there probably wouldn’t be enough room?”

He knew he didn’t sound convincing. Not at all. He just didn’t want to think about it anymore. He wanted to just get work done so he could get paid and then never ever ever have to see this look on Eddie’s face again.

“Oh. Yea, you-you’re probably right, um, sorry I asked. Maybe next week, I guess.” Eddie decided it was best to just give him his space at that point, turning away from him, trying to end the conversation.

“Eds, wait-”

“Stop fucking calling me Eds.”

Richie didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the weekend after he dropped him off at Bill’s that night. Partially from working almost the entire weekend, partially because Eddie had avoided him as much as he could.

Somehow Eddie managed to steer clear of anything remotely related to Richie that next Tuesday.

The taller boy caught a couple glimpses of him the previous school day but he would disappear before anything could be said between them.

Richie sauntered over to the rest of the losers at lunch to find Eddie absent like the day before.

“Hey, where’s Spaghedward?”

“We thought you would know, didn’t you guys just have chem?” Ben answered from beside Stan.

“Yea but he darted off somewhere in a hurry. I thought he’d be here.” Richie turned around hoping to spot Eddie coming from the bathroom or something.

“He seemed kind of upset when I talked to him earlier, what’s going on?” Beverly interjected after swallowing her first spoon of peach yogurt.

Stan ate in silence while the others discussed what could be wrong. He eyed Richie with what others would call just blatant disgust but hid it behind his thermos of chicken noodle soup.

“Yo, Stan, what do you think?” Richie finally asked him directly. He knew something.

“I think you should talk to him.” Ben responded before realizing he wasn’t the one with the answer Richie wanted.

“I second that. Talk to him.” Mike said around his turkey and cheddar sandwich.

Beverly and Bill simply nodded as they picked through their lunches.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Stan very quietly said, focusing pointedly on his sandwich.

“Why not?” Richie started to get impatient. Stan knew something he didn’t and it was clearly upsetting enough that Stan couldn’t hide his distaste. More than usual.

“He clearly just wants some space, I think you should respect that, okay?”

Stan started to raise his voice slightly and that immediately made Richie eight times more concerned knowing that Stan, of all people, was trying to keep Eddie away from him. Stan quickly picked up his tray and dumped it into the trash before heading down one of the halls.

Richie gave Beverly a kick under the table.

She initially was annoyed but softened when she saw the beat up Docs that had kicked her, nodding without a word. She kicked back twice, the second kick stronger than the first.

“Ow,”

“What, Richie?” Bill raised his head.

“Nothing just kicking myself.”

Lunch proceeded in near silence. Richie was silent for once while the others gossiped about their classes. He was debating the decision to ditch his last period to be early for work. Craig would appreciate him showing up and relieving him early, anyway.

The others returned to their classes and the day sailed by. After school most of them, save for Richie and Mike, met up by the racks to see each other off. Beverly and Ben made a plan to head to the library to cram for their English final tomorrow morning. Bill was planning on tagging along but decided to spend some time with Georgie instead.

Stan knew he didn’t want Ben to third wheel, even though it was evident Bill would be the outlier.

“Bye guys, see you Monday!” Eddie called to the other three losers as he and Stan got on their bikes to head home.

“Oh, hey can we stop by the store really quick? I need to pick up some more of the Nutty Buddies for my mom.”

“Sure.” Eddie didn’t think twice about the grocery run given Mrs. Uris had an acute craving for peanut butter after four.

He was unaware, however, that Stan had set a plan in motion.

Just so happens that the general store was directly across the street from the arcade. Eddie immediately got excited and thought to tell Stan they should go say hi to Richie. Then he remembered Richie telling him he had to help his sister today and brushed it off.

The two went inside to pick up the Nutty Buddies. Stan bought a kit-kat and a bag of chips for him to eat after dinner later.

“I don’t know how you can eat all that junk Stan, how do you sleep at night with your teeth just-,” Eddie stopped nagging momentarily as something outside of the store caught his attention. A dark green, vaguely familiar, car pulled up outside the arcade.

He saw Richie pop out and walk into the arcade with a can of Shasta cola in his hand and a snickers hanging from his mouth, leaving who Eddie assumed was his sister to drive off.

Weird. Thought she would still be in New York right about now.

“Eddie whats going on? You stopped yelling at me.”

“Shut up Stan, look!”

Eddie pointed out the window towards a car he noticed was parked every other season in the driveway.

“Wait, I thought you said he was helping his sister.” Stan inquires further, knowing far better.

“He said he was.” Eddie was immediately disappointed for a reason he wasn’t sure of yet.

Their investigation was put on hold while the clerk rang up their items. She tried starting small talk but Stan just replied curtly with, “Not interested, thank you” while waving a twenty in her general direction.

Eddie supplied a ‘thanks’ to Stan for buying the goods without once looking away from the arcade, observing a cloud of teenage girls huddled in a corner. Their ring leader was approaching the glass and Eddie started to feel dread at the pit of his stomach. He nudged Stan and then started bagging erratically.

They gathered the items and bolted out the door, trying to make sure they could see Richie through the glass without him seeing them.

“Wait, who’s that girl?” Eddie said after a long period of silence.

“Looks like Melissa Cromwell. She’s pretty hot du-.” Stan passed on the general rumor he heard relentlessly from around town. They made him sick but she was definitely well recognized by most boys.

“Shut up, Stan, who asked you?” Eddie whipped out, hoping his words stung like the sting he felt in his chest at this moment.

“You.. did-”

“What the fuck is she doing?”

“Is that a trick question?”

He scoffed but let Eddie’s rambling continue, however, because he had a feeling that Eddie cared a lot more than it already seemed he did. He hasn’t said anything to Stan like ‘Hey I’m bangin’ Richie now, deal with it’ but they’ve been spending a lot of time in each other’s company as of late.

He also knew exactly what a little jealous sap Kaspbrak was like so he didn’t intervene; didn’t mean he couldn’t feed the flame just a bit. Richie was being dismissive and kind of a dick lately, not that that’s anything new. Stan just didn’t want to see his friend tossed over a cliff over this dirt bag.

“Oh my God he’s making her laugh? Look- look at that!”

“I mean, yea? They have Lit together.” Stan announced with his all-knowing bird brain. He saw all and only repeated what he wanted to.

“Why do you care about what Richie fuckin’ Tozier does with his wa-”

Eddie turned to Stan and gave him the look.

Stan shut his mouth tight.

“He lied to me Stanley and know he’s chatting up that hot chick.”

He would never say it to Eddie’s face, (Richie’s face is another story) but Stanley didn’t truly understand what Eddie saw in that asshole. Richie was a dick about three-hundred percent of the time. A dick to Eddie three-hundred percent of the time. He was also for some reason intensely obsessed with his mom.

Stan decided it was best to just let that ship sink on its own eventually when the captain abandoned it. However, if he saw a time bomb ticking down the hull of that ship, he would hop on that lifeboat without a single word and paddle away, letting the pieces fall behind him.

But he couldn’t do that to Eddie.

Right?

The pair noticed the girls all call his name as they exited through the glass doors, cackling with their mob mentality. Stan found them repulsive but knew most guys saw the other qualities.

“Eh, Richie makes a lot of girls laugh sometimes. I guess they think he’s funny?” Stan attempted to level out some of the doubt surrounding his friend.

Much to Eddie’s dismay, Richie started to head back outside of the arcade.

He let out a panicked ‘oh fuck’ before darting off into the alley and biking through it, he didn’t care where he went he just wanted to get far from there.

Stan was struggling with the bag and his kickstand and failed to notice the quick departure of his friend.

He started off a moment later but hesitated when he saw Richie following Melissa further down the street holding a pair of sunglasses and a sharpie in his hands.

Bright neon lights blinked in the arcade window with a welcoming glow. It felt like home to Richie. Except he worked there and wasn’t allowed to play (unless it was empty because it was so slooow after eight).

He got out of his sister’s car with a quick ‘thanks, sis’ before closing the door and heading into work. He wondered what bullshit he’d have to put up with today as he munched down on his snickers.

Richie immediately noticed Melissa and her biters at Pacman not far from the counter. He knew all too well that it yielded almost no tickets at all.

“What’s up, Craig?” he called from around his almost-gone snickers.

The mid-twenties blonde looked up from his comic to acknowledge the brunette boy before him with his hand outstretched in a fist. They bumped fists before Richie set down his shasta on the glass prize display case so he could vault the counter. He landed with a huff loud enough to peak the interest of one of the vapid cheerleaders. It wasn’t hard, none of them were at all focused on collecting dots.

“Those girls came in about a half hour ago. One of them was asking about you.” Craig was telling Richie offhandedly while the younger brunette took off his leather jacket to replace it with his work shirt.

“They’re annoying please, just, like, give them your number and be done with it, totes,” Craig started to bust out laughing while he took off his work shirt and headed into the back of the store.

Richie bent down to put his keys and jacket under the register, pausing when he heard a light giggle from above him.

Fuck.

He slowly got up to face whoever was waiting on the other side of the counter.

“Heey, Richie.” Melissa was leaning on her hand with her elbow propped up on the glass of the counter.

Richie took small a step back from the register.

“Hi, Melissa.”

“I, um, wanted to exchange these tickets for something.” she reached into her back pocket and brought out a pitiful stack of tickets.

Absolutely pathetic.

“Okay.” Richie took them and put them into the ticketing counting machine next to him.

“You have twenty-seven.” He said back plainly.

“Ooh, jackpot.” she said slyly smiling as she bit on the end of her sunglasses.

“You can get a finger puppet, a pocket alien” He began listing the lowest tier of redemption.

“A pair of dice,”

“Or jelly bracelets.” The short list came to an end, his attention being returned to the glinting eyes across the counter. He took note of how flattering this direct light would be on anEone else. He pushed it back and awaited her decision.

“Can I get that one?” she pointed to a particularly adorable bear toy.

“Oooh, no sorry. You don’t have enough tickets. How sad.” he clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side.

“How many more do I need?” She asked with a horrible attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“One.”

“Let me check,” she dug into her back pocket, bouncing from foot to foot.

“Ah-hah!” Melissa pulled out a single ticket, setting it on the counter and sliding it across to him.

“Lucky you.” he said so sarcastically he almost sounded believable.

Richie turned the ticket over before putting it into the machine revealing red numbers and a call me in sloppy cursive loops with,his favorite, a little winky face. He paused, collected his nerves before presenting her with a coy smile.

“I’m sorry, this ticket has been tampered with. I can’t accept this.” he slid it back, grinning.

“Fine. Then I’ll take the,” she leaned much farther than necessary over the counter to point to a tiny alien on a key chain.

“Weird ass alien thing.”

“All yours.”

“Thank you.”

She winked at him before returning to her gang of much too giddy single sheeple friends.

He couldn’t wait to tell Eddie all about this petty ordeal but then he remembered he probably wouldn’t see his best friend until tomorrow at lunch if Eddie showed. Maybe he’d sneak out tonight.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Melissa and company head towards the exit.

“Bye Richie.” they all called in shrill unison as they left the arcade, giggling manically to each other. Melissa dangled her alien keychain from hier pinkie as she turned away.

Fuck he hated his job.

He crossed his arms on the glass that he would need to clean anyway and rested his head on top of them. His nose bumped something on the counter causing him to jolt up.

Fuck.

Richie picked the glasses up off the counter before vaulting it again. He walked with some urgency through the glass door after Melissa.

Lucky for him she was lagging behind her friends while they undoubtedly chattered among themselves about how perfect him and Mel would be together. How great they would look together at prom, most likely.

“Melissa!”

Eddie’s bike was thrown into the dirt far from the arcade while he sat down on a rock and used his inhaler. He hasn’t biked that fast since they had to chase Bill to that stupid fucking house on neibolt. That house that he broke his arm in. The house that the clown tried to eat him and all of his friends in.

That goddamn house where Richie set his broken arm after relentlessly trying to keep his focus on that motherfucking shit clown.

He coached his breathing back down to mildly panicked just before he saw Stan biking rapidly towards him. He seemed shocked.

He immediately worried if Richie had seen his buddy Stan and stopped him.

“Hey Stan, what’cha got there, lube for you dad?”

“No it’s Eddie’s snacks, he bolted like a bitch when you came out.”

“Oh damn, well, I got Melissa’s digits and I would have wanted to tell him that his mom’s gonna have to wait unt-”

“Eddie!”

Stan shook his shoulder lightly.

“Wait, when did you get here?”

“Like a minute ago while you were lost in thought, dude.”

“Shit. Damn.”

“You okay?” his only sanity broke off at Stan’s useless question.

“No, Stanley, Im not o’ fuckin’ kay.”

Thanks for readin’! Much love

#reddie #it 2017 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #2 years old #lol i suck #pt 1 #gaspbrat #reddie fics #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #slowest of burns #syhnb #fics

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secretshinigami · 5 years

Text

atmosphere

Author: @gevnni For: @eyecicles Pairings/Characters: the SPK, brief mention of Mello Rating/Warnings: G; brief alcohol mention, food mentions Prompt: Awkward post-Kira case dinner at Gevanni’s house that includes all four living members of the SPK Author’s notes: Yeehaw, backstory time. I got the opening riff to Jack and Diane stuck in my head multiple times while editing/revising/rewriting this, so I hope you enjoy it. I also totally stole the title from Joy Division’s song.

To say Rester was uncomfortable would be an understatement. Gevanni had suggested dinner as a celebration in all his extroversion, and Lidner had been too tipsy to say no like she normally would. And Near was still recovering from that lovely near (ha) death experience.

Rester didn’t think Gevanni meant it would be dinner at his house. At least, him and Lidner would be buddies in arms. Though her reason for being uncomfortable would be an entirely different one and slightly more reasonable than feeling like an intrusion.

He knocked on the front door.

“It’s open!”

Really? “You know it could’ve been anyone knocking at the door,” he said.

“Robbers wouldn’t be so kind as to knock,” Gevanni replied from the kitchen. “Not when it’s a 27 year old who’s supposedly a grad student.”

“You live right in the New York City metro area. If I were a robber, I’d assume you were loaded,” Near said. “Age or not.”

“Thanks, Near. I’ve got loads of Disney movies, particularly some from the renaissance. And some more recent ones.”

Near nodded and perused the shelves, careful to mind the model ship in the way of Mulan.

“So, what, are we early?” Rester asks. “Where would I set my coat, by the way?”

“A couple minutes. Lidner likes to be fashionably late, I suppose. On the back of the couch is fine.”

Rester found himself mildly surprised. For all the sniping he’d put up with at the end of the case, there hadn’t been a single trace of bitterness in his tone. Let’s hope we can keep things civilized, he thought.

Though, it wasn’t so much “the end of the case” as it was “tensions running high in the days after Yellow Box.” And it eventually culminated in an argument between them. He didn’t ask, and he didn’t want to know.

“Not what you expected?” Gevanni asked, looking directly at Rester. He considered himself to have a decent poker face, but that habit had fell out of use after Kira. Apparently while he was ruminating, he’d migrated over by the recycle bin, half peeking into the kitchen.

“If I’m being honest, no.”

Someone knocked. Had to be Lidner. Rester internally crossed his fingers and hoped there wouldn’t be a big fight between them.

“Door’s open.”

“Ooh, I would hope that you don’t leave the door unlocked at night,” Lidner said.

“No,” Gevanni said shortly. “You can set your coat on the back of the couch. Dinner will be ready in a bit. Feel free to watch…” He glanced into the living room, “The Emperor’s New Groove with Near.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Rester assumed she felt like she was being sequestered away with Near. Which may not be entirely wrong.

So why invite all of us to dinner then? Rester thought. Actually, though, that was pre-spat. Maybe Lidner was too polite to rescind her invitation?

Near reached for the cups, almost on his literal tiptoes. Rester grabbed a glass and passed it to him.

“Hot pot, watch out,” Gevanni warned, weaving between them easily.

“Lucky timing,” Lidner muttered.

Rester held in a snort. Lidner and Gevanni had to sit together at the table, since him and Near had taken the spots next to each other. Habit, he supposed.

The silence that progressed was awkward. Reminiscent of the scene in Clue where everyone sat in silence slurping their soup, even. Painful to participate in, painful to watch.

“Pull the lever, Kronk!” Yzma declared. And as she fell, “Wrong leveeeeer!”

As if the situation couldn’t get weirder (Rester had no kids of his own and no experience whatsoever with this movie), Lidner began laughing.

And, like a domino effect, each of them began laughing.

“Man,” Lidner said, wiping the corner of her eye, “nothing brings people together faster than weird things happening in the background. Why do you even—” she snickered at that, “have this movie?”

“My nieces. They come to visit on occasion and I have ‘em stockpiled for that reason,” Gevanni replied, slightly red in the face.

“Wait, you have nieces?” Rester asked.

“Two.” He held up two fingers. “Count ‘em, two. My sister’s kids.”

Recognition dawned on Lidner’s face.

“Yeah, there’s a lot I don’t talk about. I had to land on a team of introverts, huh?”

“Silence, extrovert,” Lidner said, picking at her Bolognese.

“You being a younger brother makes a lot of sense,” Rester said.

“Ouch, Rester.”

“At least you don’t have a nephew. Dude bounces off the walls so much, I wonder how my brother didn’t stop at one,” Lidner said.

For a fleeting moment, Gevanni looked abashed.

Rester logged each of their expressions for later inspection. “Is he your older or younger brother?”

“Younger. I’d think that was obvious. Don’t tell me you’re an only child, Rester,” Lidner replied.

“Two younger sisters.”

Near wiped his hands, tangled a finger in his hair, and brought a knee to his chest. “Only sibling. Though, I suppose you could count Wammy’s House’s students as de facto siblings. Even if I was normally alone.”

The opening riff to Jack and Diane began. “Sorry, that’s mine. Mom?” Gevanni stepped away from the dinner table and retreated to a room.

“You have a terrible poker face, Lidner,” Rester said lightly.

To her credit, she didn’t prove his point. She merely raised an eyebrow and asked, “What makes you say that?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Your immediate reaction when he mentioned his sister was to go oh, shit. I could read it in your face.”

The other eyebrow shot up. “I never thought I’d hear you say anything beyond damn.” She mixed the Bolognese sauce into the noodles more, careful to avoid her pristine white shirt, and added, “I wasn’t aware of him having an older sister. Or that she had two kids.”

“Bull.”

“Pardon?”

He raised his eyebrows. “So is there something about this sister that’s so significant, or…? Same as your brother.”

Lidner stiffened. “That’s for him to tell. As for the latter, this is meant to be a nice dinner.” She paused. “Kira shouldn’t be going anywhere near this conversation.”

Really? I hadn’t read too far into their files when Near asked me to encrypt them after Mello.

“You’ve given me a lot more information than you think you have.”

“No. I haven’t.”

Lidner tilted her chin up.

“I’m only giving you the information that I’m judging you privy to. You ought to be more acquainted with that.”

Read: Stop asking me about my brother. This conversation is over.

What a chess player she is. And what a game he’s playing.

Gevanni isn’t exactly volatile but he knows that Gevanni has well defined limits, and pushing them is asking for more trouble than it’s worth. Lidner isn’t as open about it, but her subtlety could easily lure Rester into a false sense of security.

“So, what was the call with your mother about?” she asked as Gevanni retook his seat. Like the conversation never happened.

“She wants me to figure out presents for the aforementioned nieces. Two months in advance.” He said this with a brief laugh, but quickly sobered. “I’m more curious about the conversation that happened in my absence, though.”

Note to self, Rester thought, Lidner’s not the only one that plays on the false sense of security. There’s no point in lying anyways.

“I said Lidner had a terrible poker face when you mentioned your sister. After a bit of back and forth, I asked if there was something significant about your respective siblings. She said that it was for you to tell, and that this is meant to be a nice dinner and Kira shouldn’t be going anywhere near it. I said that she’s given me a lot more information than she thinks she has, and she basically told me this conversation was over.”

Gevanni didn’t make a move; he shrugged and kept it brief: “She said it better than I could.”

“It’d be hard for the Kira case to not creep up,” Near said. He tugged at his hair. “We’re all directly impacted by it.”

He’d know, Rester thought.

“When it’s meant to be a nice dinner is a completely different issue,” Lidner said, jamming her fork just a bit hard into the noodles.

Near gave Lidner a warning look. “‘Nice’ dinner or not, Kira remains an indelible part of our lives. Rester may not have had to ask, but I’d rather we saved the sniping for something more important. Such as a back and forth with a future unsub.”

Near’s been watching a bit too much of the Gundam series again. Rester has to applaud him for the subject change.

“Someone’s seen too many movies,” Gevanni said. “Do we have a new case coming up?”

“Not yet. Is the spice cabinet within reach?”

“Depends on what you need.”

“Red pepper flakes.”

To his credit, Gevanni didn’t look comically surprised. “I think they should be.”

“I never pegged you as being into spicy food,” Lidner said. Her eyebrows slowly raised the more Near shook out the flakes. Gevanni shook his head. Rester barely caught Lidner saying, “My dad’s like this but with black pepper.” In a lesser moment, he attributed it to his age.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Near said.

“Got fooled by the clothing, huh,” he said, laughing when Lidner elbowed him in the ribs.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you seasoned your food with salt and pepper.”

“Hey!”

—

“I wasn’t raised to freeload while at someone’s house,” Lidner said, hands on her hips.

“It’s my food that I made, my house, my dishes and dishwasher, and I was the one who organized this, so I’m taking care of the dishes,” Gevanni said. Hilariously enough, he also stood with his hands on his hips and with a dishtowel over his shoulder. He looked rather matronly, if you asked Rester.

“Rester, please break the tie.”

“There’s a tie?” Rester asked, looking up from the desk in the corner. This is where Gevanni makes model ships? Nice setup.

“He’s not letting me help with the dishes.”

“Because you’re a guest!”

You sound like siblings bickering over shotgun. He shrugged. “If the man wants to suffer, let him.”

“Just because you don’t like doing dishes doesn’t mean I don’t.”

He didn’t even have to look to know Gevanni was frowning at him, but then the sentence sank in. Rester turned around. “Are you kidding?”

“No? It’s a pain but it’s clinically proven to relieve stress. And watch the models, they’re fragile.”

“Clearly, it hasn’t worked,” Lidner said, looking him up and down.

“I can’t win even in my own house.” He shook his head. “Either way, I am doing—” here, he gestured at Lidner with the towel for emphasis, “the dishes whether you want me to or not.”

Lidner folded her arms. “I’m going to supervise, then.”

“Why would you supervise me doing dishes?”

“My brother used to load the plates on the top rack like a heretic.”

“I can assure you, the plates don’t go on the top rack in my dishwasher. If you want to inspect my dishwasher as it is, feel free.”

They retreated to the kitchen. The dishwasher opened. As if they needed more evidence to prove that Lidner doesn’t and didn’t pull her punches. “Oh, thank God.”

Rester could only laugh at the absurdity, and join the younger team members in a glass of red wine.

—-

May 21; 2:37am

Rester didn’t particularly consider himself the sentimental type. That seemed more Gevanni’s alley than his. No offense to the man; the world needs people like that as much as they need someone like Lidner. But shared trauma ties people together like nothing else, so Rester tried to give himself some leeway.

However, looking over and seeing his coworkers and boss sprawled all around the room and dead to the world after a long case brought forward the memory of the dinner. As well as relief that Lidner and Gevanni had mended things.

He brought out spare blankets and pillows and placed them over his colleagues, before passing out himself.

#death note #gevnni #eyecicles #spk #near #anthony rester #stephen gevanni #halle lidner #ratings: general #fanfiction #fanfic #submission

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grimweaver · 4 years

Link

A piece from 2011. Bear in mind that a lot of details (too many to list) have been changed since then and I was fresh into writing Elder Scrolls stories at the time.

----

PART I

It seemed too perfect to exist outside the pages of a storybook; a hillside farm house with a grand view of the Imperial City, not far from the edge of the Upper Niben. It was a piece of country undisturbed by the bothersome ruckus of town, but close enough to the city to make the weekly trip for necessities hassle-free. Aaron was especially ecstatic about the new home, but for his own special reasons. There were more insects and small animals for the young boy to catch and play with, and the nature-enthusiast had a lot of yard explore.

"Remember, this is not at all like the city!" A voice called out from the front porch. "Do not wander too far or out of sight." "Da!" Aaron blasted from where he was playing, not more than a hundred feet away. "I'm ten years old! I'm almost a man!" "Doesn't matter- there are things out here that make an easy meal out of people- boy or man."

"Yeah, and you face them almost every day!"

"Because it's been my job for almost fifteen years now. I have skills and wits that help me survive each encounter."

Indeed. Since the raw age of thirteen his father made a living as a large game hunter. Because he was one of the few that dared to take on an animal twice the size of an average man he was well respected and heavily paid. It didn't hurt that, as one born under the Shadow, he had the ability to make himself invisible for a brief amount of time- that was a valuable power for someone who had to strike his target before it even suspected that it had company. One could say he managed well for a single parent, but because he was alone it was still a struggle in the beginning. But when Aaron was older and experienced enough to share chores and look after himself, it lightened the burden his father had to carry.

Aaron noticed him wincing with a sharp, backwards hiss through his teeth. He abruptly jumped to his feet and raced over to see what he was doing, carrying the large toad he caught in his gentle hands.

After reaching the steps of the the porch he was met with an unexpected and disturbing sight. "Da? What are you doing?"

"Something I've meant to do for a long time." His father's right arm was covered in red marks, which were made by the edge of the dagger he carefully scraped over his skin. But careful or not the bleeding couldn't be avoided. Aaron was shocked and confused by what seemed like an act of insanity. Perhaps being bored out of his mind in the country was what drove him to do it. "And I think you're old enough to understand why I'm doing this."

"Ya, I really hope you do tell me why you're cut'n yerself up! Are ya going crazy?" "No." His father chuckled. "Y'know that this part of my arm was always covered, right? Wrist bands, long sleeves, gloves, gauntlets..." "Yeah, come to think of it." "And you see what I've been covering up, since I haven't finished removing it?" "A... tattoo. But da you have a few others that y'never cover up. Why this one?" "Because this one was a declaration to the world of a commitment and promise."

Aaron was in silent contemplation for a moment, sighing as he watched the remaining black marks on his father's skin turn red. He cringed, not because he was abhorred by wounds, but because he thought about how much the process of removing the tattoo must hurt.

"To ma?" Was all he uttered after being quiet for so long.

His father paused briefly as he looked down at him with his solemn brown eyes, before narrowing his brow and coldly paraphrasing. "To the woman that gave birth to you. There are probably a thousand things one could call her, but 'ma' is not one of them." He continued scraping.

Aaron's brow popped up. Had he been a boy who knew his mother at all he would've been offended by his father's criticism, which seethed with an old contention. But until he learned about how life began he thought Lucien LaChance was the only parent he ever had.

"That's gonna scar bad." Aaron pointed out, half distracted from the subject. "Probably. But it'll be much easier to look at." He smirked as he applied a disinfecting paste to his arm.

"What happened?" He asked, taking his gaze off of Lucien's arm to give him direct eye contact. "Please, da. Like ya said I'm old enough to know... and don't sugar-coat it." "I never have, and I certainly don't intend to now. You deserve the unadulterated truth."

Aaron seated himself on the old wooden chair next to Lucien, waiting attentively for what he believed was going to be a long story. As Lucien began to wrap his arm he searched the sky for his reflection.

"She got into the skooma... and then entered the world that revolved around it. She left us for it... and then it killed her." Was all he said, crunching the entire story down to a few simple sentences. Aaron sighed heavily, petting the toad as he watched it's throat bubble out each time it took in a breath.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Lucien heaved as he slouched back. "It's alright." "We've been doing just fine on our own haven't we? I've tried to be both parents... to give you a happy life..." "I know... yeah everything's fine. I never knew her so... it's not that big'a deal. I'm happy. But are you happy?" Lucien chuckled. "You make me happy, kiddo. I think that I'd be lost in this world without ya." "Aaaw." Aaron made a wry face at his father's 'mushy' words. That's when he decided to change the topic. "So, y'gotta hunt tonight?"

"No, Aaron. It's Sundas. We're going into town." "We?" "Yes, 'we'. You and I." "But what about the goats? Don't ya want me t-" "They'll be fine. I put plenty of food in the trough to keep them happy all day. Go wash up real quick cause if we want to be back before sunset we gotta leave in a few minutes. Alright?" "Sure!"

Aaron bolted through the creaky front door with zeal in his heart. Lucien picked up the toad that was sitting contently on the table in front of him and gave it a quick pat on the head before releasing him into the field.

Lucien did not 'sugar-coat' the story at all, but he withheld lot of details. He did not want to be a man that allowed his past to consume him or anyone else. That is why he decided to finally remove that tattoo, which was a part of a traditional Imperial marriage. He did not want to drown others in the grimy tales of what he had to endure since the night his ex-wife, Rosalla, started behaving strangely. He also avoided telling Aaron that it began shortly after he was born because he knew that the boy would ask if it had anything to do with him, and Lucien would have to answer truthfully. The truth was 'yes'.

No one needs that on their conscience. He thought.

As Lucien waited for Aaron, the memories he struggled to distance himself from lurched out. Memories of Rosalla's mood swings that got worse and more frequent during the five days that followed Aaron's birth; Lucien was verbally and physically assaulted every time he returned from a hunt- she was convinced that 'hunting' was a code word for 'seeing other women'. It wasn't the truth, but the quirky voice in her head told her that it was. The voice also told her that Lucien drank heavily and hit her with the broken leg of a chair, and she distributed those rumors through her equally eccentric friends. Fortunately the people Lucien had to worry about receiving those rumors knew it was a lie, seeing no evidence whatsoever that she was even pinched.

Lucien didn't know it at the time, but this was the first prominent sign that Rosalla was ingesting skooma. If he did he would've been prepared for the next appalling act that happened a week later. He returned one night to a house void of anyone but a very neglected infant. Aaron was crying at the top of his lungs over several things that were not tended to- he was hungry, heavily soiled, cold, and deprived of parental love for what seemed like the entire day. The desperate father rifled through the entire town for help because he did not have the means to feed him. Fortunately Velus of the Merchant's Inn had a good alternative to breast milk and the starving child was finally well fed.

Rosalla's whereabouts and reason for absence was unknown to him for quite some time. After another week, worry promptly turned into fury when she returned. She was not kidnapped, trapped, or harmed in any other way- she was staying in one of the hotel rooms at "The King and Queen Tavern", taking in enough shots of skooma to completely loose sense of time and concern for anything but herself. Lucien demanded an explanation, and that is when she revealed to him the shady life of self abuse that involved not only skooma but lewd activities with groups of men and women that were also lost to the substance. She poured out all of her hatred for the tedious repetition of...

"Eating, baby, cooking, baby, sleeping, baby! No more thrills! No more joy! Just routine!" She screamed.

She did not have Lucien's sympathy. Instead he expressed how disgusted he was by her lack of strength and willpower. He contested with the fact that...

"Everyone has to put up with a long stretch of dull and strenuous routine every now and then! That's life! And it's not like this all the time, you just dwell on nothing but the negative and ignore all the wonderful things that are right there within reach- I ask if you want to go out you pout'n say you don't feel like it! I ask if you want me to stay home and you say you want me to go ahead and get the hell out of the house and leave you alone! You are such a piece of work! And this skooma... and everything you've been doing... God, I thought you were above this! I never thought you were stupid enough to fall into it... do you know what it does.. or what it has done to you!"

It was pointless for Lucien to recount the fact that he didn't leave everything up to her. He helped out around the house when he was able to- but Rosalla stubbornly believed that she did everything and he did nothing. She hardly noted the many nights Lucien got less than two hours of sleep because he offered to lift the baby burdens off of her weary shoulders. But the one thing that made it clear to Lucien that Rosalla was no longer going to be in the picture was the unforgivable act of abandoning the infant. It was not going to take more than one incident to convince him to extinguish her from their lives. So the night that Rosalla returned was also the night he would see her for the last time. Out of fear of harassment Lucien decided to move out of the Waterfront District house and live secretly with Velus and his wife Janine. One month later, imperial legionnaires reported to LaChance that they found Rosalla's body in Bravil.

He felt no remorse.

The first five years did not simply roll by- they sluggishly moved through a horrible grit. Such times in Cyrodiil were unkind to single parents.

But we made it. I don't know how... but we always found a way. Lucien thought. One can get through anything if they have unwavering faith and spiritual endurance.

Lucien did not give up, and keeping his son in mind inspired him to preserver.

#lucien lachance #elder scrolls stories

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haikyuu-imagines-and-others · 5 years

Note

Hi there! I read your spin the bottle scenarios and they were pretty good, I was wondering if you could write spin the bottle with Tsukishima and/or Kuroo please? Thanks in advance :D

Lol tbh I laughed at “they were pretty good” bc tbh that’s how I feel about all my writing in general lol! Thank you love! And thanks for participating in the event! :D -Admin Satori

Tsukishima Kei: Spin the Bottle

You’d made it absolutely clear, absolutely and positively clear, that the only reason you’d shown up to this house party of drunk, horny, college kids…. Was because you knew your crush would be there.

Why he would be there, you had no inkling of a clue - but you had heard from your best friend, who was pretty much bosom buddies with his best friend…. That Tsukishima would be here.

That didn’t make the experience any less…. tiresome.

Legal college kids drinking and playing silly drinking games, increasing the amount of liquid courage in their veins before doing whatever it was they’d wanted to do while sober - which most of the time ended up being confessing or kissing someone they liked.

Not you, though. Not Tsukishima either.

Sure, you’d had a drink or two, but you had a high tolerance. He’d had one…. He had a low tolerance, so he’d stopped after that. You wondered how he’d act if he were under the influence of alcohol? Would he be more outgoing? Would his sour attitude transfer over into the freeing feeling of being drunk? Or tipsy?

The questions swirling in your head halted abruptly as you were pulled down into a circled group, sitting almost directly across from …. The center of your thoughts. His golden eyes met yours for a split second before he was looking elsewhere.

Tsukishima was a guy of few words - the few words spared were usually laced with poison or ice… but honestly, you’d never felt the sting of his words… Probably because you’d only talked to him a few times, and even then it was general things about classes shared or projects due… Safe subjects.

So his brief glance your way didn’t feel out of place at all.

What did feel out of place, though, was his attendance to this… game. Spin the Bottle? Tsukishima voluntarily playing Spin the Bottle? The two concepts didn’t seem to match up in any way, yet here he was. Very real, very sour, and very much in front of you… sorta.

Yamaguchi, his best friend you sort of knew through your best friend, sat beside him with an embarrassed smile. HIs brown eyes seemed to be glancing over between Tsukishima and you before landing on your best friend with a pointed look.

Were….. Were you being set up?

Before you could really put those puzzle pieces together, the game began. You recognized a few of the young men from Tsukishima’s volleyball team - Yamaguchi, Hinata, Kageyama…. But most of the other young men.. You couldn’t place.. There was a tall young man with silver hair and green eyes - and a young guy who looked like he had…. Well… the ‘Vegeta’ hair, all spiked up. A bowl cut kid who looked both excited and nervous and a really tall guy with a literal ‘3’ mouth. Was he an actual emoji? The girls present were a few familiar faces - You knew Yachi and your best friend, there was a few girls from some of your classes, a few from your best friends sorority.

Around and around the bottle went, your eyes glancing between it’s spinning, pointing end to the target of your interest. To say Tsukishima looked disinterested would be an overwhelming understatement. He looked bored out of his mind, golden eyes watching the bottle, turning his head the slightest whenever someone came in for a kiss when he was pointed at. No kisses to his lips - he didn’t want anything to do with this game….

So why did he stay?

Finally it was your turn. You’d been kissed on the lips, cheek, nose, and forehead… Finding each kiss a little… awkward and embarrassing. When it’d been Tsukishima’s turn, you’d held your breath only to let it out in a quiet huff when he’d kissed your best friends cheek. Innocent enough, but the jealousy boiled within you.

But it was your turn, and you wasted no time in spinning the bottle, watching it intensely and willing your choice into its glass - it’d better choose him, or you’d chuck it off the goddamn balcony.

Your best friend watched you with an amused smile, feeling your need washing off of you in waves - practically drowning her and Yamaguchi in how absolutely obvious you were in your wants. But she wondered if you’d even considered…. Would Tsukishima let you, a mere acquaintance, kiss him?

Slowly, the bottle clinked to a snails pace spin…. Pointing at Tsukishima.

Your eyes met his and your stomach flipped - were you nervous? Scared? Excited? You honestly had no idea, but even as the bottle completely stopped… You didn’t make a single move. It wasn’t because you found him intimidating - it wasn’t because you found him unapproachable…..

It was because… You didn’t want to be rejected like everyone else.

“Well? Hurry up. I wanna spin next and get Tadashi~.” Your best friend cooed over at the freckled boy, giggling when his face immediately flushed. “Cute~…”

A blond eyebrow raised at you before he was leaning forward, towards you, initiating the endgame of a spun bottle. Like he had for all the others, there was no difference in his movements to indicate he’d be different for you… That you’d get the prize you really wanted.

With a cold pit in your stomach, you leaned forward - your eyes slowly closing as you grew closer and closer to him. He’d be the one to decide.

Tsukishima watched your eyes close as you grew closer - finding your trust in him and his decision a little…. Too soon? A little naive but… He smirked as he leaned closer…. Cute. He pressed his lips against the corner of yours - teasing you with the real deal, just giving you a minor taste of what he could possibly offer you.

And you knew without a doubt that’s what he was doing.

The bliss of his teasing kiss was shadowed by the overwhelming, absolute fond irritation of his teasing you to begin with.

So as he pulled away, your eyes slowly opened - feigning innocence as he stared down at you with a smirk firmly plastered on his face. Though his golden eyes were trained on your face, on your reaction, and failed to notice your hand moving up from where you were holding yourself up on the floor.

Then your hand was gripping his sweater and pulling him closer before he pulled too far away, “You’re a tease….” Your lips were a hairs length away from his - he could feel your lips move against his as if you were really kissing him… But you weren’t…. And the tease of an almost kiss had his heart hammering in his chest. “I like that….” You smirked before letting go of his sweater and sitting back down beside your friend.

“Oooooooh~ Why don’t you two get a room~?”

“Ah Tsuki~! Met your match?”

His golden eyes stared at you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed to display his utter disbelief in your…. Surprising power play. Usually he was the one left teasing, the one to play hard to get… and yet….

Tsukishima’s slightly parted lips slowly upturned into a smirk, of respect or of an accepted challenge? You weren’t sure… But the anticipation was absolutely killing you.

Kuroo Tetsurou: Spin the Bottle

“Around around the bottle goes, pointing at its target, around around the bottle turns… Welp, now you’ve got mono.”

“That didn’t rhyme whatsoever… You know that right?”

Kuroo pursed his lips as he leaned back in the circle, “Jokes on you… No one said it would.”

Matsukawa’s deadpan expression clearly showed his disbelief, “You were obviously trying to go with the ‘pop goes the weasel’ tune….” Kuroo shook his head with a shrug, “And you failed…. hard.”

Nodding in agreement, you spun the bottle, “Mono, mono, mono, mono!” You chanted in feigned excitement - shaking your fisted hands up and down as if you were betting on a roulette table. Sugawara joined you, chanting the same bet with the same movements.

Slowly the bottle slowed to point at Daichi, who blushed deeply, “I don’t want mono…” His voice was serious enough to have you snickering.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind it - Sa’mura.” The sly cat’s voice called from around the lip of a bottle he was polishing off.

You stopped leaning towards Daichi at Kuroo offering to take the fall… not only at his offer, really, but also because Kuroo had almost immediately leaned in front of Daichi as if he were taking a bullet for him.

He’d been chasing you for the better part of the year. But you’d always managed to brush off his advances. Slip through his fingers. Dance just at the edge of his reach… And he only seemed to chase you harder and harder. Trying to keep up with your pace as you so easily avoided all his courting.

It’s not because you didn’t find him attractive or interesting. It’s not because it was obnoxiously obvious how badly he wanted to even have a single conversation with you. It wasn’t even because you constantly threw the excuse of ‘not being ready for a relationship’ back at him every time the two of you were left alone.

Nope.

You just liked toying with him.

So when he went to take the bullet of your ‘mono’ infested kiss for Daichi, you simply smirked and leaned back to sit down once more, “Sorry~. They’re non transferrable.”

“Not even if I sign over the right to the kiss?” Daichi asked from behind Kuroo’s now deflating chest, another attempt thwarted once more having his familiar sour expression showing itself.

You shook your head with a teasing smile, “Nope. Sorry, Dai. You’re destined for mono.”

Sugawara scowled, though there was a smile struggling to remain hidden behind it, “I really hope you don’t have mono, ________. You should probably go to see the doctor or something.” Though he knew you were joking around, the idea of something so contagious during a kissing game being passed around…. Was kind of…. horrible.

“If you don’t want mono, don’t play the game, man.” Bokuto’s voice called from the kitchen - he was busy ‘making sure the pizza didn’t burn’. There was a timer. There was a sound with the timer…. And yet… he absolutely refused to move from the kitchen.

A laugh escaped you, “Kitchen dwellers have no voice in this game!” You called back, snickering when his loud whine reached your ears.

Daichi raised his finger to gain anyone’s attention, “Raincheck on the kiss…Don’t want to take any chances.”

The clinking of the bottle had your attention moving from Daichi’s proposal to the hand that finally took their turn. Kuroo smirked as the bottle spun and spun, “Around and around the bottle goes-“

“It doesn’t rhyme!” You cried out with a laugh.

“-pointing at its target-“

No stopping him. There was no winning.

Well… There was.

Your hand rested on the bottle, stopping it from spinning anymore, “Oh my god… Look it’s pointing at Asahi, give him a kiss.”

The gentle giant started with wide eyes, holding up his hands as he leaned away from the group - having just joined to listen in on the conversation, “O-oh… Uh… N-no thank you.”

A large hand rested on yours on the bottle, “No cheating, _______.” Kuroo smirked, “Scared it’ll land on you and you’ll have to kiss me? Give me your mono?” You pursed your lips with squinted eyes as you watched him lean closer and closer to you, his golden eyes intense as he continued to hammer in his questions. “You find me that repulsive, huh? Some gross, greasy, slick alley cat?” You scrunched your nose, your lips twitching as you forced yourself not to break your expression to show your amusement at his obvious joking self-depreciation.

You could practically hear the rolling of Daichi’s eyes, “Just give him a date already… he hasn’t stopped talking about you since goddamn freshman year.”

That broke your expression, a smirk curling your lips as Kuroo’s cheeks tinted a light pink. “Oh~ How cute…” You teased.

“Cute? Like… Cute like a kid? Or cute as in you’ll give me a kiss because I’m so overwhelmingly adorable ‘cute’?” He challenged almost immediately, trying his hardest to get over the embarrassment of being outed so publicly.

“Oh my fucking God - Just fucking get a room already.” Bokuto called from the kitchen, having popped his head in to check on where the game was heading, if it was heading anywhere at all.

You continued to smirk, feeling Kuroo’s breath fan across your face as he neared, “Cute as in…. You’re obviously a useless top ‘cute’.” His nose scrunched, obviously not liking the response provided, “Cute as in… Maybe I should be peppering you in kisses instead of teasing you so much.”

Without looking up from her phone, Kiyoko nodded, “Maybe that will keep you both quiet for the rest of the evening.”

The atmosphere you’d been trying to hold up broke at the complete smack down Kiyoko had delivered you, making you playfully hiss as if she’’d actually hit you where you were weak. But the break in your concentration was all it took for Kuroo to take his chance.

Soft. Gentle. Surprisingly sweet. You closed your eyes at the feel of his kiss against your lips, your hands coming up to cup his face. He smiled against your lips, one of his hands laying over yours on his cheek as he leaned further into the kiss. This is what you’d been running away from? This is what you’d been missing out on?

You pulled from the kiss reluctantly, needing to catch your breath but to also be able to see his face - see his expression - drink in what giving him what he wanted would do to him. His eyes stayed closed as you pulled away, your hands still cupping his face, leaning into your touch.

Blissful. He looked absolutely blissful.

“Oh…. How very cute.” You whispered with a smile, leaning forward and kissing him sweetly once more before pushing his face away with your entire hand. “Save that for later, for sure.” You sent him a wink - feeling his anticipation, and your own, grow as each minute passed throughout the rest of the game.

Maybe playing hard to get would absolutely pay off for you.

A/N: I feel like Tsuki’s kind of matched with the other 3 I’ve done…. but Kuroo’s was way different lol like different style, more dialogue… different! lol

#Admin Satori #Haikyuu!!#Haikyuu!! Scenario #Spin the Bottle #Character Challenge!#Tsukishima Kei #Kuroo Tetsurou

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ronniesqueen · 5 years

Text

A Journey To Find True Love

We start off with Archie as the bachelor, Ronnie is in his season. The story progresses, and she becomes the next bachelorette after he finishes his season. Both of them go on their journey to find true love.

I will be writing this AU in the form of a tv show. Since, we all know that “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette” are reality tv shows.

Previously on “The Bachelor”

Archie sends Ethel and Valerie home at the rose ceremony, knowing he has deeper feelings for the other women.

Ethel had no hard feelings whatsoever, and she wished Archie the best as they parted ways

Valerie, on the other hand, called him out on making “easier choices” with the other women.

She also told him to not get distracted by the “shiny objects”

Leaving everyone shook.

Ronnie, Josie, Betty, and Cheryl remain.

Archie is meeting their families this week!!!!

Archie and Betty went on their hometown date

When Alice gave Archie a hard time

Would you expect her not to? LMAO

Who will win Archie’s final rose?

Okay.

Without further ado,

Buckle up, buckaroos!!!

Week Four.

Varchie’s Hometown Date

(setting: Confessional Booth)

Archie was adjusting his hair. He glanced at the camera. “Hometowns week is off to a good start. I’m really excited to see Ronnie. God, she’s so gorgeous. I really hope I can make her happy today.”

He began buttoning his shirt. “I do plan to ask for her mom’s blessing to propose to her at the end of this. And if that doesn’t go well...that’s going to be, very discouraging. Because I can see myself with her for the long haul.”

(setting: Veronica’s bedroom)

“I can’t wait to see my Archiekins,” Veronica said to herself, as she was straightening her raven hair. “I’m excited to see where the day takes us.”

Hermione Lodge entered her bedroom. “So, explain this to me again mija,” she said, sitting down on the bed. “Just so that I know.”

Veronica smiled. “Archie and I are going out on our date, and at the end of the night, I will be bringing him here to meet you.”

“That’s tonight?” She asked, taken aback.

“Yes. What’s wrong?”

“Mija, I have something to tell you...”

(setting: Andrews Household, living room.)

“So yesterday you went with Betty, today you’re going with Veronica, and then...?” Fred asked.

“Wednesday I’m going with Josie, then on Thursday I’m going with Cheryl. Then, on Friday is the rose ceremony,” Archie explained.

“Sounds like a busy week,” Mary laughed.

“It really is,” Archie said with a grin.

“No cocktail party?” Jughead asked, drinking a soda. “What if you haven’t made up your mind yet after Thursday?”

“I thought about it,” Archie said. “But I think I would be too tired. Plus, it might make things harder for me.”

“I think they’re all so lovely,” Mary said. “You can’t go wrong with any of them.”

“I vote for whoever makes you the happiest,” Fred said.

Archie looked over at Jughead. “What do you think, Jug?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“You’re my best friend. Come on,” Archie chuckled. “You mean to tell me that you haven’t thought about which one you’d choose if you were in my shoes?”

“I really haven’t,” Jughead chuckled.

“You know what, Jughead?” Mary said. “One of them is going to be the next bachelorette. Maybe you should go on the show to date her.”

Jughead choked on his soda.

“You should!” Archie laughed.

“Are you kidding?” Jughead scoffed. “That would be so awkward. Dating someone on national television while she’s dating like ten other-”

Archie shot him a look.

“No offense buddie,” Jughead laughed. “I just think for me personally, it’s awkward. Especially if she used to date you.”

“But there’s always that chance that you two might have the right connection. You might be right for each other and not even know it, because you’re not letting yourself try,” Fred said.

Jughead shrugged. “Maybe I’ll go on the show. But it depends on who the bachelorette even is.”

Archie grinned. “I knew you’ve been secretly thinking about who you’d pick.”

“Tell us who you’d pick!” Mary laughed.

“Nope,” Jughead. “I can’t say who my pick would be. What if Archie ends up with her? Again, that would be so awkward.”

Archie laughed. “I guess we’ll find out when all of this is over.”

(setting: Confessional Booth)

“So I heard some news....” Veronica trailed off. “And this might change things. Or it might not. But I’m not losing faith in Archie. I’m not worried about our relationship. I’m more so worried about what will happen when he sets foot in this house..”

(setting: Outside the Pembrooke)

Veronica stood, wearing her checkered red and black dress with her iconic pearls. The limo pulled up, Archie got out.

He ran towards her. “Hey Ronnie!”

She ran to him. “Archiekins!”

He picked her up and spun her around.

“I am so excited for this,” she giggled as he put her back on her feet.

“I missed you,” he said, kissing her.

“I missed you!”

He took her hand and led her to the limo.

“Where are we going?” she asked playfully.

“A place that is strictly in cold blood,” he laughed.

(setting: Pop’s Chock’Lit Shoppe)

Archie and Veronica were sitting in a booth sharing a milkshake.

“I’m really glad you kept your word,” Ronnie said. “You’re a true gentleman, Archie Andrews.”

“You made it all worth it.”

She blushed.

“You want to know something?” He said.

“What’s that?” she asked, taking his hand.

“This morning, when I woke up...I started asking myself “What would Ronnie want? What would make Veronica smile?”

She giggled.

“And then I remembered something you told me on the first group date. After I gave you the rose,” Archie continued.

She smiled at the memory.

He looked in her eyes. “You told me how you’ve been wanting to see the world. That you want to travel, and explore everything life has to offer. That you want to get out of Riverdale.”

She nodded.

He grinned. “I have something I really want to show you.”

(setting: Waterfall, a little ways outside of Riverdale)

Archie and Veronica had walked through the nature of the mountain tops. “This is so beautiful,” she whispered, clinging to his arm.

He looked at her. “I have a better view.”

She kissed him.

“We haven’t seen the best part,” he grinned.

She jumped on his back. He took off running.

“Close your eyes for a bit,” he said.

“How long?”

“Until I say so,” he said playfully.

He ran for a little while longer.

Then stopped.

“Is it okay to open now?” she asked.

“Yes.”

He helped her get down and she opened her eyes.

She gasped. Gazing at the waterfall.

“Archie...” she whispered.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t physically take you to Paris, London, or Rome. You know I would. We really just have a day, and it’s a little expensive-”

She interrupted him with a passionate kiss. “Archie, it’s perfect. I can’t believe this. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.”

Archie set up a blanket, as well as a picnic basket. With champagne, fruit, and burgers from Pop’s.

She gasped. “Do you see the rainbow?”

He smiled. “I do.”

“Wow,” she whispered. “There’s so much that’s out there. And I just want to experience all of it.”

“And you will,” Archie said. “So, about tonight. Who am I meeting?”

She looked down. Reality began to settle back in her mind. “It’s funny. I came into today, nervous as shit, but thenn..” she trailed off, looking up at him. “I saw you. You pulled up in the limo, and you ran to me. You being here just, made me forget why I was so anxious.”

He pulled her close. “I’m really glad I can be that comfort for you. But, now I’m worried. Why were you upset?”

“My father was released.”

“Oh,” Archie said. He rubbed her shoulders. “How do you feel?”

“I’m scared,” she said, tearing up. “I don’t know who he is! I have no fucking idea. And I’m even more scared for you because I don’t want you around him. I don’t know what he’s gonna-”

“Ronnie,” he whispered, brushing the hair out of her face. “I’m here. Okay? You don’t need to worry. You’re not alone. We’ll get through this.”

He wiped her tears away. “Let’s take deep breaths together okay?”

They took each other hands, and took three deep breaths.

She smiled.

“I’m here,” he whispered.

She kissed him. “I’m glad.”

They continued to gaze at each other for a few seconds when...

“Archie,” she began. Then paused. “Do we have any onion rings?”

He chuckled, pulling them out of the picnic basket. “Always. But, I have a feeling that’s not what you wanted to tell me.”

She chuckled. “You’re right. It’s just that it’s something I’ve never told anybody.”

He kissed her. “You know you can tell me anything.”

She giggled. Then pulled away to get a better look at his face. “I’m falling in love with you, Archiekins.”

He took her hands. “I’m falling in love with you, Ronnie.”

They kissed each other passionately, rolling on the blanket.

(setting: The Pembrooke)

Archie and Veronica stood outside. She was trembling.

“I got you,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.

She blushed. Took a deep breath. And opened the door.

Hermione was standing near the dinner table. “Veronica!” she cheered, hugging her.

“Hey mom,” she said, hugging her back.

She smiled at Archie. “You must be Archie.”

“I am,” he laughed. “It’s great to meet you.”

Veronica saw her father, sitting at the dining table from the corner of her eye.

“Aren’t you going to greet your father?” Hiram asked.

Veronica reluctantly walked over to him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Archie walked over to him. “Hey Mr. Lodge, I’m-”

“Archie Andrews. The bachelor himself,” he said. “I’m Hiram Lodge. And I trust that you’ve been treating my Veronica with nothing but respect.”

“He has,” she said, holding Archie’s hand.

“I really do care for Veronica,” Archie said. “She’s amazing in every way.”

“Indeed she is,” Hiram agreed.

“Mija can we speak with you in private?” Hermione asked.

“Of course,” Ronnie said, smiling at Archie as they walked into Hiram’s study.

(setting: Hiram’s study)

“You can’t be thinking realistically if you think THIS is going to work out,” Hiram said.

“Daddy-”

“He is still dating the other women. For goodness sake, he just got back from another woman’s house! That is not respect,” Hiram continued.

“Hiram, that’s how the process works. The fact that Archie willingly came to our home to meet us, shows that he is serious about Veronica,” Hermione said.

“Daddy, I understand. I really do. But I thought this through even before coming on the show. I was open to the idea of falling in love and being part of this journey. And, if he doesn’t choose me in the end, yes it will hurt, but I care so much that I just want him to be happy,” Veronica explained.

“He’d be a fool not to choose you,” Hermione said, smiling.

“He’s already fool for even thinking of you as just an option instead of seeing you as the one,” Hiram said.

“We don’t know that yet,” Hermione said.

“Why are you defending this?” Hiram asked his wife.

“Because,” she glanced at Ronnie. “Look at her. I haven’t seen her this happy in so long.”

Hiram sighed. “You want to be engaged?”

“I do,” Ronnie responded. “I know the way we feel about each other. I know we can get to an engagement. And I’m not asking for you to agree, I’m just asking for you to support it.”

Hiram sighed again. “If this is what you really want.”

(setting: Living room.)

Hiram sat down across from Archie.

“Veronica expressed to us that she believes you two can be engaged at the end of this. I can’t imagine you feeling the same way, with three other women in your pocket.”

“Actually,” Archie began. “I do feel the same way. I can see myself getting down on one knee for her. We both came into this show, knowing the risks. Knowing what’s at stake. And we were brave enough to let ourselves begin to fall in love with each other.”

Hiram raised an eyebrow.

“And so, Mr. Lodge,” he continued. “I would to like to ask for your blessing to propose to Ronnie.”

Hiram took a sip of his whiskey and put it back on the table. “I know she’s ready to settle down and start a family. The question is. Are you?”

“If I wasn’t, I never would’ve agreed to becoming the bachelor” Archie said.

Hiram stared at Archie for a few seconds before he spoke. “If you choose her, then I can support this. Only on the condition that you give the relationship more time to progress before getting married. Be engaged to her for about...a year or so. I need more time to see, if you’re a good fit for my family. And a good fit for Veronica.”

Archie smiled. “I’m taking that as a yes.”

“It’s conditional.”

“I’ll take it,” he laughed.

(setting: Outside the Pembrooke)

Archie and Veronica stood outside, making out as they waited for Archie’s limo to arrive to take him to his third hometown date.

“I asked for your father’s blessing to propose to you,” Archie said between kisses.

“What did he say?” she responded.

“Um...” he whispered, pulling away for a minute. “It was weird. He said that if we just take a year before getting married, that he’ll support us.”

She smiled widely. “Wow, I thought he would’ve said no.”

Archie laughed.

The limo arrived. Archie and Veronica kissed one last time before Archie began to walk off.

“Remember,” he said, turning around to face her. “I got you.”

She giggled, as the limo drove off.

------------------END CREDITS------------------------

#varchie

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espship18 · 5 years

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Kpop ship for Sleepy anon

Popping these ships out like a boss lol,, this request is from an anon, so sleepy anon, I hope you enjoy!

Based off of your request, I learned these things about you:

5′4, slim and athletic

Hobbies include: dancing, eating, and sports

You love to travel, but you also like to stay home

You have unique tastes especially when it comes to art

You’re carefree and a jokester

You’re also an amnivert

And in your request you asked to be shipped with NCT 127 and Seventeen! It’s been a good couple ships since I wrote for Seventeen, so this was a nice refresher ^^

NCT 127: Doyoung

So, you and Doyoung would be happy beebs, but you’re also savages, and also have mysterious sides. Sounds like a lot I know, but you two are awesome and I love you together. When I think of you and Doyoung, I think of you two being friends before you got in a relationship. You two would live in the same building, a little down the hall from each other. You’d cross paths a lot, and eventually, you’d become running buddies. Doyoung would lowkey also need an excuse to get up early in the morning so running is the perfect excuse. You two would have a lot of chemistry, and you’d be good friends, so you would talk a lot. At first you would have no intentions of getting together, but Doyoung would be attracted to you, plus you’re so carefree, he would fall pretty easy. The more you would learn about each other, the stronger the feelings would get, so you two would just blossom from there. You two would also spend time at each others places, and since you’re savages and mischievous babes, you two would prank each other. A large amount of salt in his drink or he takes all of your toilet paper out of your bathroom sort of stuff. Eventually, you would take it a step further and prank Doyoung’s fellow group members, and it’d open a whole new world for you two for pranks. This sounds horrible, but imagine scaring all of the Dreamies with a simple scary clown mask, happy Halloweenie, hehe. I can even see Doyoung really making a move would be when you two were pranking Taeyong and Yuta and he’d look at you a certain way and he’d be like ‘holy crap’ and kiss you. Doyoung is a very thoughtful boyfriend, I might say. He loves date nights, he loves taking you out to your favorite places. And omg he pays so much attention to detail, it would honestly shock you sometimes. Doyoung is also your personal teddy bear, so like, if you have a stressful day, you just gotta go home to your mans and he’ll snuggle you til you can’t vent any longer. And whenever you would get the chance, you most definitely would tag along with Doyoung on trips. Not only can you two get the chance to travel, but you also get the chance to rest at night in the hotel room and snuggle and either watch movies or play games with his fellow group members. And of course, you two document all of your trips, that’s a must! Last but not least, PDA is very soft and sweet. Doyoung would always love to hold your hands and pull you into kisses, or he’ll be a little shit and bend down to kiss you. He’s also super cheesy and corny when he tells you he loves you. “I’d like to let you guest star on my love boat.”

Seventeen: Vernon

I think this one might be my favorite, the more and more I think about you two together the more I love it. SO, you’re hipster and badass beans(beans is my new word, so if I say that a lot, I apologize). Again, respectively, I feel like there is a mysterious and unique quality about you two that would leave the people wanting more, and in this case, you two would leave each other wanting more and more to the point where you fell in love (: . You two are also giggly babes, but you’re also human burritos who binge watch cheesy crime shows on Netflix while eating popcorn. I also think that one reason why you two would be such human burritos is because the fact where Vernon would get stressed easy with work, you would be his rock and area to relax, so you’re gonna be human burrito’s, someone get the salsa i’m so sorry, take the keyboard away from me lol. And since you are very carefree, you also get in spontaneous spells, so you can also get Vernon out of the house if he’s in there for a scary amount of time. Little mini road trips would be a lot of fun, considering you love to travel, and I’m almost positive that Vernon would purposely get you two lost so you would go on adventures and meet new people and try new foods while you’re out- which by the way, you two never go hungry, there is always some kind of food present around you two. And by the way, your adventures are always on his Instagram, which you are constantly on his Instagram. I always love this concept bc you being on his Instagram is such a cute way for Vernon to show his love for you. There is all kinds of content on his Instagram: your adventures, you two working out together, date nights, you two making fun of each other, super candid photos of you two- there is just so much content. Which by the way, those super candid photos are mostly of Vernon because you would steal his phone quite often. Late nights are usually at home, cue the human burritos I mentioned earlier. You’ll order your fav take out or from your favorite food places and either throw on some Netflix or some tunes. Throwing on the tunes ends up with goofy dancing and bopping the f out to Seventeen’s bops. You particularly love to play older Seventeen songs to tease Vernon about how smol he was. You also get to hear all the unreleased Seventeen songs, and everyone on social media is always pestering you to leak new songs. PDA, Vernon is so chill, and in fact, you’re the clingy one. Vernon would highkey love the cling. You would put his arms around you, you’d pull his cheeks close to yours for kisses, you basically get to take the lead and Vernon is not complaining whatsoever.

~STA

#sleepy anon x kpop ship #kpop #kpop writing #kpop ships #kpop ship blog #kpop reactions #shipping blog #nct 127 #Seventeen #nct 127 ships #seventeen ships #doyoung #vernon

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magik-leaf-blog · 6 years

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A long vent post

Hi guys, it’s me, AO, and this year has been quite the shit show for me.I don’t feel well enough to properly tag any triggers, so there’s a general trigger warning, so if there’s a subject you aren’t comfortable with, you’ll know not to bother looking. The reason I’m posting this to my main and not my vent blog is because I’m tired of not feeling like I can tell people how I feel, so instead of going to a vent channel, or rambling to myself or to one person, I’m going to post it for everyone to see.

Before you click that read more link, I want you to know that I’m generally an emotional person, even if I don’t come off as so, so all of this has deeply impacted me, some parts may just come off to you as whining over spilt milk, but I tend to take things to heart, I can’t help it.

Okay I’m gonna try and keep things sorted so it’s easier to read, so forgive me if it reads weird.

This year has just been hell and back for me, with general stress and family drama. My parents are looking into a divorce, and honestly, I hope they do because god bless my dad for putting up with such a horrible person. Ever since my dad allowed for his cousin to stay with us for a weekend, it’s been nothing but bitching and false accusations from my mom, ranging from my dad being a manwhore who sleeps with every woman he looks at, to being an incest pedophile. It’s taken a vast emotional and physical toll on him. I’m scared for him because he basically told me that me and my brother were the only reason he was staying alive. I don’t want to wake up one day and my dad having killed himself. That woman has worn him down to the point that he doesn’t even want a funeral, just to be buried. My mom is generally not a good person. I don’t feel safe showing when she’s in the house because she’ll just barge in on me and bitch when I ask her to leave so that I can atleast get dressed. I know she was raised to think that’s okay, but she has almost no respect for my modesty. Not to mention that she’s verbally and physically abusive, yelling every morning and hurling things. She’s also ruined all of my brother’s friendships by accusing our dad of sleeping with the friends’ mothers, we think she may have called a few of them too. She constantly compares my to my dad, even when saying so in a loving manner, that doesn’t matter when she only shit talks the man. She’s brainwashed my brother into thinking that my dad is a horrible person and as a result has no discipline whatsoever as mom is never home, and when she is, if she isn’t dictating what the family is doing, she’s having a screaming match with my brother.

Now to change the subject from family life.

In general, I see a lot of people venting, and their situations are worse than mine, so I never feel like I have a right to vent without it being a burden.

So there’s been some bumps and bruises with my time on Discord. Most of the stress there was lingering after a good friend of mine lent their discord to one of their buddies, and said buddy proceeded to block me and all the friend’s mutuals. I have to draw attention to the fact that this was done so without so much as a warning, and I knew this friend was struggling with depression, so my first thought was that they had committed suicide or were getting ready to do so. Luckily I found out that they weren't and were doing fine. I’m still getting over the stress from that time, and some things that came up add to that stress. I’m an emotional person, I see someone hurting and I want to help, but I don’t know how to help them and end up sidelined, which adds on a considerable amount of stress as I honestly don’t how to be happy on my own. Among the recent issues, I was in a Discord server, and I was friends with one of the admins, or at least I thought I was. Long story short, she couldn’t be bothered to talk to me in private about things I did that made her uncomfortable, she didn’t start voicing her objections till just recently, and by then, we’d been RPing for a little over a year and a half, so I expected her to feel fine with privately telling me when I made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t. Instead, when I’d join in on the public chat and I said something she didn’t like or approve of, she’d antagonize me (she might not have known she was doing it, and I was going to talk to her about this, but I could never bring myself to fully confront her thanks to the first time I voice MY objections to her) what made her comments worse was that as soon as she posted them, people would immediately flock behind her in support. I felt singled out because she wasn’t doing this to anyone else except me, I felt like people saw me as an absolute freak because of that. Because of her, I wasn’t comfortable talking in a public chat room when she was present. It hurt when she did that, it felt like she was antagonizing me when I meant no ill will. She even publicly objected to what I wrote, where at least 20 people could see it at any time. I was getting ready to talk to her, in private, but a friend of mine drew some nice artwork for me, and I was so happy I showed it off in the public chatroom, but almost immediately she made an incredibly hateful comment, she talked about how she ‘disliked --- ocs” (it sounds petty I know, but they way she worded it felt rude and disrespectful, hell she doesn’t even know the person who drew the art.) and then went on to complain about how and what I write, which I would’ve been fine with had she not made the comment against my friend’s artwork. After that, I had to leave the server, she’d become such an unpleasant person to talk to and by then I’d given up on mustering up the patience and courage to talk to her. She even managed to ruin several characters I enjoyed, more so one in particular , although this is an incredibly lesser offence then the rest of what I said. I thought she was my friend, but now I feel betrayed.

Right now, I’m just wondering why I’m even still alive, I feel like I’m nothing but a bother to people, even when I’m trying not to be one. I have these voices I hear that keep telling me to do horrible things to myself and no matter what I do to drown them out, they always come back and louder than before. I’m so stressed, I don’t what to do.

I’m so sorry if this is long, but I honestly don’t think I’d last much longer holding all of this in. It’ll take a long time before all of this stress and heartache dies down, so please bare with me and thank you to those who’ve put up with me thus far and those who’ll come by and see this and still follow and interact with me.

#Trigger warnings #vent #Just trigger warning

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