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#Like oh hi weird feeling of one of my organ not big enough for another organ
sugaldean · 10 months
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Everyday when I go to bed I wonder if I hate or love the feeling of my feet finally resting.
Yeah there is pain release but why does it have to feel like my feet is expanding and is trying to get out of my skin
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heavytf2tummy · 4 months
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I have a personal fan theory that medic literally uses heavy's tum as a pillow to sleep, this is NOT headcanon but rather a factual statement.
Take this image as evidence
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Heavy canonically sleeping next to his minigun in a separate bed? Now that seems like something he does considering how fond he is of his weaponry, plus this is IN THE COMICS SO IT IS LITERALLY CANON.
Now if Heavy x Medic is also canon (which, yeah, no shit it is just look at the VAs), then that begs the question of "How does Medic sleep in Heavy's bed, if he even can?"
Here is one way that's PLAUSIBLE BUT NOT LIKELY, medic simply doesn't sleep in Heavy's bed
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However I'd like to debunk this theory since, well, the floor is cold and he'd be really really cold and sad.
Now here's another, PLAUSIBLE BUT NOT LIKELY THEORY, Medic sleeps on Heavy's chest.
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Makes sense in theory, it's got a nice bit of squish and is warm, plus the heartbeat would probably be soothing since organs, why wouldn't this be the place to sleep?
WELL, you see here fine viewer, I see Medic sleeping in the chest to basically be like purposefully taking copper when gold is right next to you. My point with this is, when a much more pillow like substance is below Heavy's chest, why just settle an "eh it'll work" type of pillow replacement? Oh and of course you might be thinking "What about Heavy's breasts???", and to that I'd say it'd be like sleeping on one of these cornhole bags.
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Sure, it works but a bit small? HOWEVER if you wanna rest there that's your choice I guess 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
However, this is without a doubt most likely how Medic sleeps, HEAVY TF2 TUMMY ‼️‼️‼️ [pillow]
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Now yes you might think, "Ermm won't medics legs be off the bed causing discomfort?" and to that I say shut the fuck up, but also, not if the mann is curlled into a ball similar to how cats sleep. Bit of a stretch, but hey that seems reasonable for Medic to do. However I honestly think given the circumstances this is the best pillow for medic to use, since it's:
- Heated, so Medic doesn't get cold during sleep
- Big enough for a human head to rest on comfortably
- Medic would feel heavy's breathing, which is a weird thing to note but considering how much medic is fascinated by organs and stuff I see this as a plus
Oh and of course, medic would do this because I said so and I'm the original poster.
Now to get a theory on why heavy always sleeps with his tum out so I can get people to draw zis /j
(The theory is heavy just stretches before he sleeps, shirt goes up, and badabam that def happens every night)
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mullettaegi · 3 months
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incoming: another fucking voltron rant because i watched a langst edit and now i wanna cry😭😭
they did not take time. they did not slow that show down for a little bit. especially for lance. cause he did not getting a fucking moment to find himself again after he FUCKING DIED. we saw him homesick, we saw him missing his family, we saw him insecure about his position on the team, we saw him insecure about himself, but we never actually saw him go anywhere else but being sad. he really did get barely any character development.
and tbh i feel like in a way just all the characters didnt have a moment to slow down. and i know, i know, its a kids show, its about fucking robots for fucks sake, theyre in the middle of a war. which, yeah. youre right. but there couldve been so much more, for him, for all of them. what about them? as people, with feelings. where are there emotions. why is it only sadness and happiness and not the enitre confusing spectrum of emotion between. does pidge not feel lost after she finds her brother? yeah, hes back, but i bet she didnt imagine she would be fighting an intergalactic war, and now matt is too. she imagined family dinner, brother barging into her room, dad making corny jokes, house happier and full of life.
hunks family was put in a fucking work camp. he had seen this across the galaxy, zarkons army imprisoning people, making them work, killing them. did he imagine that for earth ? did he imagine that for his family? how the fuck did he cope fighting a war, anxious as he is? how did he cope at all?
shiro isnt even in his fucking original body. thats fucking weird. im not saying that in a rude way bc like yeah, organ transplants are a thing irl, and a major life saving thing they are ! but like, how odd it must be to have someone elses kidney or heart in your body. nevermind to have your entire soul and conciousness put into another body, you but not really you.
keiths life,,, dude probably just doesnt even give anything a second fucking thought anymore. but like, could they not have shown him showing some more emotion. fair enough if he doesnt always cry in the moment but rather late on, but you'd think seeing allura die, they wouldve at least put some tears in his eyes. he had fucking no one before he had voltron. only shiro, and even then he was alone for so long when shiro had been on his mission. you cant tell me he didnt want to think of voltron as his family. they bonded :(
and lance, gosh lance. i feel like, if we looks at this as it is, lance would be the character that people think back on and go "oh yeah, he helped me accept my emotions, he helped me become the best version of me and gain confidence in who i am". in the fandom hes seen as someone with big emotions that he wears on his sleeve, but also someone who will put everyone else and their needs before himself.
he's a story of self-sacrifice, quite literally. he's the story of sincere love, of casual admiration. he's the story of the most wonderful friend, of loyalty, of no, I'll step down because there's a cause bigger than me, and im not the one for the job when there's people like my friends and you on the team.
and no one wanted to explore that? no one wanted to see him do more than just, what? flirt and literally die and fall in love and barely find his place on team voltron? that was it for him. it shouldn't have been, but it was.
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mad-c1oud · 4 months
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perhaps a “Don’t freak out, please” from the injury prompts list for karaoke duo :3 only if you want ofc
KARAOKEDUO LETS GOOOOO
yes yes yes YES Went a completely different route (This isn't really an injury but uh you'll see) for fun and man, wanted to turn this one into a full oneshot but alas- kept it short for the sake of practice but who knows, this one was fun.
Thank you for the ask anon!!!!!
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“Don’t freak out, please.”
Charlie feels a little hysterical at how calm Baghera is right now with all— this. “Don’t freak out? I’m not freaking out I am so completely and utterly calm right now.”
“Good!” She cheers, “It isn’t a big deal, right? We’ll be okay.” Baghera says happily as she’s actively melting into the ground, limbs turning a translucent yellow as her bones start poking out of what was always solid skin. Charlie whimpers a little at the sight, unable to acknowledge the new appendages at his back or along the side of his face. He can’t even talk about the fact that his bones are firmly in place. What he would give to pull a rib or three out in stress right now.
“Is slime like come. Or the feeling of breast milk? What if it was?”
“Baghera.” Charlie doesn’t even know how to continue that or even begin to reply, “You’re a piss-yellow more than anything. Go that direction, at least.”
The pile of goop bubbles and gurgles happily and holy fuck this is weird, knowing she’s laughing, amused and silly silly silly, but not being about to understand anything else than surface-level emotions. Something bubbles up in his own throat and he has to swallow it, panicked. The pile of lemon jello ripples happily and Charlie desperately needs someone more adult than them here. Phil. Where is Philza Minecraft. He can fix this switch-a-roo they’re stuck in.
“Were you going to chirp? You swallowed like you were going to chirp, Charlie.”
“Stop watching me swallow, you’re weird.”
Baghera sounds too delighted when she talks back, “Not until you chirp. Oh! Maybe you can fly! You are not a duck, but you still have w-“
Charlie groans loudly, “Don’t say it. Don’t.”
The pile of Baghera stays quiet and Charlie worries she lost her voice box in the mess of bones and organs, but he’s not that lucky. The mound bubbles.
“Your wings look like they belong to a little bird, like a hummingbird or a green bee-eater-”
“Baghera Jones what did I just-”
It’s fine. This is all fine. The wings at his back flutter anxiously and the ones at his temple keep trying to block his face like they want to protect him. Charlie wants to throw himself off of cliff to see if he can fly or just to die in general, but he has no idea how avian hybrids work. There’s no time for tests when his best friend is becoming one with the ground, also.
“Okay, enough goofing, it’s bucket time, Jones.”
“Oh, I have never had bucket time, I’m so excited! How many will it take? Can we bring my bones, please?”
Despite the situation they’ve found themselves in, Charlie smiles hard enough for it to hurt. He’s happy Baghera is here with him.
“At least five buckets. And of course, we can bring your bones.”
Her happy chittering doesn’t stop the entire trip it takes to find another islander to help them. And if Charlie lets out a few accidental chirps and trills too, there’s only one other person around to hear, and he’ll never mind that it’s Baghera.
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star--anon · 5 months
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Thominewt Roadtrip Headcanons !
yay!
Well, first off, Minho is the only one of these losers to even have a driver's license.
Despite this, Thomas will make up for it by... Backseat driving the hell out of Minho. "Turn right! Turn right! Oh wait, no, Apple Maps says go forward for another 8 miles. Sorry." "Minho, the speed limit is 86mph, you're going 87!!" "Minho-"
Minho ends up turning his hearing aid off for most of the drive. It's mostly for show, though. He can still hear through his right ear (which is, unfortunately, the one Thomas is shouting in). But it does get Thomas to shut up about his driving for a few minutes.
Until there's a gas station, anyway. Then Thomas is immediately forcing Minho to pull over because this man? This man is so big on snacks. He's got 'em all organized by vibes and behaviors. Chocolate-y snacks for when he's feeling tired, beef jerky for when he just wants something to munch on, gummies for when he's chatting with Newt and Minho, crackers for when he's staring out the window and listening to music...
Speaking of music, Don't. Touch. Newt's radio. Doesn't matter if it's Minho's car. It's Newt's playlist. He's going to decide the music. It's one of the few things Minho's smart enough to not argue with him on.
A lot of people think Thomas would be the one chatting away, but it's actually Newt. Newt's the one pulling Minho out of that autopilot Driver Brain Numbness to chat, Newt's the one convincing Thomas to take his headphones off (he picked a playlist just for this road trip and Thomas wants to listen to his own music? rude).
The man needs his closeness. His love language is quality time and you can't change my mind. He revels in the comfortable silence as the three do their own things together, and he basks in the amiable chatter between his boyfriends (except for when Minho starts dunking on cats during their classic Cats VS Dogs convo, but every fantasy has a few holes).
Speaking of love languages, Minho's is acts of kindness (again, you can't change my mind). And it shows when he overpacks so much.
Oh, what if Thomas gets cold? What if Newt's ankle starts acting up? Compression helps with ankle pains, right? He should bring sixty blankets for a 3-day trip, right? He brings back-up toothbrushes (because Newt forgets his at motels sometimes), brings weighted blankets (Thomas hates the motel ones; they're so light), brings ten gallons of moisturizer (Newt hates dry skin), brings a taser (a bit much, but safety is good), brings a waffle machine (a little weird, but Thomas is adamant that waffles are just pancakes but better), brings a saxophone (okay, that one might just be odd), brings a horse saddle (Minho stop-)
Newt makes everyone write a list of all the stuff they're bringing so they don't forget their things when they're coming home (Minho's list is ten miles long). The first thing Newt writes on his own list is spare hearing aid batteries. It's the one thing Minho never bothers to worry about when he's (over)packing. He knows Newt will bring it.
Thomas sits backseat. Sometimes, if the trunk can't fit all their things, they'll have to put some stuff in the backseat, and Thomas ends up a little squashed. But that's okay. Newt tries to offer him passenger seat, but Thomas turns it down each time. He likes the backseat, it's where he can kiss the back of his boyfriends' necks.
(He's tried kissing Newt from the passenger's seat. It doesn't work as well. Also he once kicked Minho in the face trying to do so.)
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sagau-my-beloved · 2 years
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Can we get more of venti coming to our world
I'm invested 😻‼️
Headcanons about sagau Venti with reader in the real world:
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Absolutely! I'll go ahead and post those headcanons I said I was going to do under here, but I'll probably be posting another actual continuation of the work soon, hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: general Sagau, minor codependency, mentions of alcohol consumption, that's about it folks
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• You are now the owner of a very high maintenance but devoted God
• Congratulations
• He can do tricks, so that might make up for some of it
• The first month or two you completely confined him to the house
• If he's going to go out there and make an idiot of himself, he might as well not seem like he's from another planet while doing so
• Wants to know about everything, really an unsatable amount of curiosity
• "But how exactly can television content be turned into 'waves' and travel through the air in particles? How do they know what to reform as??"
• After answering about a thousand questions, you finally just get him his own phone so he can look them up himself while you're not there
• Big mistake
• You now can't get peace no matter where you go
• He's the type to call and text you over every little tiny thing
• "My lovveee, I saw a bird today :D!" *sends attachment*
• "Uhh, are you sure that's not a leaf?"
• "..."
• "My lovveeee, I saw a leaf that looked like a bird today :D!"
• At the end of the day, you're going to have about 100 messages and over 50 calls
• Also constantly steals your phone to take pictures of himself and change what you have him set as in your contacts
• "Ok why did you change your contact name 'most beloved and devoted follower'?"
• "... Am I not your most beloved and devoted follower?"
• You're going to have to take him to a few clothes stores too, he gets weird enough looks just on his behavior alone, no need to add to that
• Keeps the signature green color though, and he could never part with the braids
• Since you wouldn't let him go outside, he decides to take an interest in plant keeping
• Says that it's stifling to be surrounded by no life all the time, kinda uses that line to guilt you into staying home with him more too
• You're going to have to reel him back a bit though, otherwise your entire house is going to be covered in greenery
• "Just one more? Look how sad it looks here."
• He always gives you that heartbreakingly sad face and you really just can't deny him, as much as it's putting a dent in your wallet
• Speaking of money, that's another thing he's particularly curious about
• He's only ever had Mora, so he likes learning about the history of your type of money and how it didn't come from a God
• Was also very confused about the lack of Gods and supernatural things
• Teach him about organized religious, do it, I dare you
• If he thought it was weird still having a decent following after not appearing for a couple hundred years, boy oh boy, watch him as he tries to grapple with Christianity
• He tries very hard to help out during the day when you're not home
• All the modern appliances are kind of confusing at first, you certainly have come home to a mess a few times before
• But after a few weekends that you spend dedicated to teaching him how to use the things around your house, he gets the hang of it
• Likes to spend his time cooking and cleaning and making things
• You once joked about how it felt like the nineteen fifties when you walked in and he excitedly greeted you, rambling on about the various things he did all day which included making dinner and  trying his hand at various fiber arts
• He didn't get the joke
• I honestly think he would be pretty good at crocheting or knitting if he could develop the patience for it
• He does feel like this mundane housekeeping stuff is the least he can do for you though, not having a lot of modern day money making talents
• He snuck into a bar once to try playing for money (and get a few drinks) as he usually did, got kicked out almost immediately
• Still indulges though, you're going to have to drop a couple hundred on wine each month
• Almost cried when he learned that dandelion wine wasn't really a thing here
• You did take him to an alcohol store and let him pick out what he wanted after that incident, then practically forced him out of the building while you paid, otherwise he would have definitely be carded and you both would have had to leave with nothing
• Clings to you the rest of the day after that, going on and on about how much he loves and appreciates you, and that gets more intense the more he drinks
• One of the earlier problems was where he would be sleeping
• He spent the first week on the couch, allowing you to have your space
• For the next three weeks he acted as though he was going to sleep on the couch, and then crawled into your bed when you fell asleep
• You eventually just gave in and let him sleep there, he was much happier to be openly affectionate when he knew you weren't going to kick him out immediately (you still had your limits)
• Always wakes up first, the only caveat to that was when he drank heavily the night before
• So I guess he only woke up first about 50℅ of the time
• But insist heavily on making you something in the mornings, coffee, tea, breakfast if you'd let him
• "Oh good morning my love! Would you like something to eat? I made it just for you~"
• There are times where you can't sit down with him to eat, having to be somewhere early
• He always plays it off, but is super upset after you leave
• The food just doesn't taste nearly as good without you there
• Oh, and good luck if you have a cat
• He doesn't tell you that he has an allergy for the first couple of days, just internally dealing with the discomfort of it
• He has already resigned himself to the fact that this is going to be his fate from now on, he's come to terms with it
• You do catch on, ask him why he didn't tell you sooner that he was allergic, then offer to buy him some over the counter medication for it
• "That's possible!?"
• Small existential crisis, it's fine, don't worry about it, this happens a lot
• Eventually you do finally have to let him out, it's in his nature to wonder
• And honestly, he's kind of horrified over the current state of your world
• The political climate, the ecological climate, all of it
• It reinforces his believe that he's running his city correctly by not running it at all
• It also strengthens his resolve to eventually bring you back to Teyvat with him, it's so much nicer there, and it isn't nearly as hot, and the world isn't falling apart
• Looking past that though, he does really like going to different places, hikes and trails and beaches
• His powers do still work as well, there's just as much elemental energy in this world as in his, it's just no one knows how to use it here
• You do scold him every time he does something like that in public though
• Also he's absolutely guilty of pda
• Can't help himself
• Tries really hard to avoid phrases like "your grace" or "divine creator"
• But sometimes they slip out, and then people give you both weird looks, and you glare at him, and he looks at you apologetically
• He'll make it up to you later
• Is actually coming up with tons of new ways to make things up to you, because of how good you are to him
• He should really be the one providing for you, in all ways, and it frustrates him to no end
• He always feels like he's in debt in one way or another, but that's fine, that's the way it's always been
• As soon as you both get to Teyvat he's going to make up for it all, give you anything you want
• If you do ever end up getting there, he's gonna have some habits he might have a hard time breaking
• "Why is the Anemo God cooking for the creator?? Aren't there like 50 other people that can do that???"
• He'll find himself missing the convenience of your world sometimes
• Also, the sudden lack of one on one attention is going to completely eat at him
• If it's particularly bad, he's going to take you on a vacation back in your world for a few weeks
• (which translates to like two years there oh no—)
• Eventually you do have to tell him about the game, how you're not really "the creator", but just the person who guides the player, how there are hundreds of other people worldwide that know about him and all the others, play the game no different than you
• It takes a while for him to really come to terms with it
• Still justifies you being better than everyone else because you actually have an active religion surrounding you in the game, you're the one he came for
• And even if you didn't "make the game" you're still the reason why so many people in it are happy
• And he's still 100℅ convinced that you are a reincarnation of the creator
• Game or not, that universe is real to him and all that live in it, there are a lot of things that happened there that aren't shown in game, so that must mean it exists outside of the game too right?
• But he has an absolute day going through people posting about it
• You are kind of looking over his shoulder, doing your best to limit his exposure to some of the really horrible Internet stuff
• He prefers reading, creating, and singing your praises in his spare time anyway, which works out well for both of you
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thelampisaflashlight · 10 months
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I Am All Eyes
[Hoping to escape his past and begin anew, a young man takes a chance on an AD in the local newspaper, only to find he has, perhaps, bitten off far more than he can chew. A reintroduction to my OC, Quincy, and how he came to be the abbey's librarian. This fic will consolidate the events of the first two original ficlets I did with Quincy and diverge from the original plot from here. Not suitable for younger audiences.] Below the cut.
For what it's worth, if Quincy had to choose how he was going to die, death by satanic cult is a vastly cooler way to go out than he would have personally imagined for himself.
Kneeling at the base of some... big titty goat person -pretending not to see how worn the bronze in that particular area is- surrounded by a circle of cloaked figures that look like they walked off of the set of some old school horror flick, Quincy's mind, of course, drifts to the worst case scenario.
A million thoughts send his head spinning; When he'll die, and by what means, and one thought that he refuses to acknowledge, because-
"It's like that one scene from that music video I saw yesterday-"
Yeah, nope.
Not the time to be thinking about hockey bukkake.
He pinches his eyes shut and tries to focus on the present.
He hears the click of boots on the black marble beneath him.
He's fucked.
He's so fucked.
Everything he's ever done leading up to this, to the moment he said screw it and shook off the mounting anxiety in his chest and pushed open those ornate wooden doors to take shelter from the coming rain he'd sealed his fate.
He shouldn't have come here to begin with.
He shouldn't have called to arrange an interview with some... some shady lady who called herself something as weird as Sister Imperator.
Why'd he think it was a good idea to respond to an AD in the newspaper anyway??
Who even reads the paper anymore?!
Quincy.
Quincy reads the paper -for the crossword puzzles and the horoscopes, and to groan at this one columnist who always has the shittiest takes in the opinions section- because he's a giant nerd.
...and because he has a friendly competition going with the old man who runs the newspaper stand across from his apartment.
Point is-
He just wanted a job in his field, okay?
He spent years studying to become a librarian, but he’s been stuck working at a dive bar since before he could even drink himself, and he’s kind of tired of coming home smelling like spilled beer and vape smoke -the ban on “electric cigarettes” indoors hadn’t quite hit his area yet, and Quincy was sick of having to smell the pungent aroma of cereal scented clouds of vapor.
All that money wasted on getting a higher education, and he’s somehow still stupid enough to stumble upon a cult in broad daylight and embarrass himself in the process no less!
Lord, he wants to cry.
He must look so pathetic down on his knees, because one of the hooded figures offers-
A tissue?
Quincy sniffles.
“First day jitters, huh?” Another says, taking a packet of little bear shaped cookies from their pocket and pressing it into his palm, “Don’t worry, you’ve got this!”
What?
“It’s a lot to take in, huh?”
“I thought-” Quincy looks up at them confused, “-what is this place? I-I was called to… for a…”
He digs into his jacket pocket and pulls out the newspaper clipping, “A-A woman called, S-Sister Impera… Impera…”
“Oh, hey! Someone actually took the job offer! Fucking finally…” someone sighs, placing a hand on their chest, “I’m getting tired of trying to organize that place myself…”
“I… Huh.”
Huh.
With one stiff pull, Quincy is back on his feet, a bit wobbly, but, at least he’s standing.
He feels like a newborn deer surrounded by… surprisingly nice wolves.
“What… what is this place exactly? The AD said it was… um… a-an abbey? A church thing, so… and, and what is that?”
He eyes the statue again, face warming as he takes in the carefully crafted areolas....
What?
They’re massive and very aesthetically pleasing to look at!
“Oh, that’s Baphomet!”
“Bapha-who-ha?”
“Baphomet, he represents the balance between opposites, although, I think the Papa Emeritus that commissioned it just really liked the idea of having a statue with big ol’ boobs in the foyer to be honest…”
Quincy bites his lip.
Ah.
“It used to have a huge schlong, too, but I think they had to remove it back in the 60’s? 70’s? So it would be less, uhh, sinister?”
Quincy opens his mouth, and physically has to stop himself from asking what they mean by “sinister”, instead asking, “W-Where is Sister Imperator… So I can speak with her?”
“Her office is on the third floor, last door at the end of the hall.”
“Third floor, gotcha. And the elevator is…?”
“Out of order until they get the stains off the wood paneling.” the figure who explained the statue says, “However, there are stairs at the end of the hall that will take you up to the second floor, then you just have to head down to the end of THAT hall and take the left up another staircase and, boom, you’re there.”
“That’s a lot of stairs.”
Despite this, at no point does Quincy have the thought that he could just leave now.
Just, not show up to the interview.
For all his earlier hesitance and regret... he just keeps walking.
As he passes door after door, pausing briefly to admire the architecture -the woodwork is gorgeous to say the least- and breathe in the age of the building itself…
No, that thought doesn’t occur to him until he’s actually sitting in the interview, with an older woman in a modest black dress and a tight bun that makes Quincy’s head hurt imagining the pull of it as if it were tearing at his own scalp.
Sister Imperator.
She’s… a lot more intimidating in person than she sounded like she would be on the phone.
She'd sounded rather jovial and kind during their initial conversation, but now, Quincy isn't so sure.
He blames it on nerves.
She adjusts her reading glasses and sets his paperwork down.
“Well, you certainly have the necessary qualifications for the job, although, I do have to wonder… you’re leaving a job you’ve had for nearly a decade now for one that pays…” she folds her hands on top of the desk between them, “I have to ask, what made you answer our advertisement, Mr. Byrne?”
“I attended university with this specific line of work in mind.” Quincy replies, sitting up straight, “A-Although I’ve been working as a bartender for some time now, and I would be making more if I continued to do so… I decided some time ago that I needed a career change.”
“Any particular reason for that that you would be willing to share?”
Quincy shakes his head, “It’s… a personal matter, and won’t have any bearing on my performance.”
“I see.” she looks back down at his paperwork, “Right then, just a couple more questions.”
Quincy nods.
“Full disclosure before we begin, as you’ve probably already guessed based on aesthetics alone… we are a religious organization, no less legitimate than, say, the catholic church, but not quite so… Mn, prominent.” she says, clearly choosing her words carefully, “Will this be an issue for you, Mr. Byrne? We can assure you, that you needn’t subscribe to our views in order to work in our library, it is merely a matter of comfort for yourself, and to avoid the possibility of you treating our clergy discriminatorily. You may also choose not to answer.”
“I’m not particularly religious.” he replies, “I was raised Christian, but I suppose these days I would be considered an apostate? Yes.”
“And as far as your views on our religion thus far?”
“I will admit I was… taken aback… by what I saw in the foyer, but I have no ill feelings towards the people here.” he thinks back to the kindness he was shown earlier despite his obvious apprehension and doubt, “They, your clergy, have been… nice.”
“That is good to hear.” she says, smiling, though Quincy could have sworn he caught a glimpse of something… dark in her gaze before he spoke.
“Onto the next question: We have several semi-permanent residents here, so it is likely that you will be encountering them quite often-”
The rest of the interview goes…
It goes fine.
Quincy doesn’t have an expectations, but when Imperator quietly leans back in her chair, he thinks he definitely didn’t-
“Can you start tomorrow?”
“Y-Yes, but, don’t you have other applicants to-”
She shakes her head, “You’re the only one who replied, and I think it would be ridiculous to let you go.”
He swallows, “So then… I got the job?”
“Yes.”
Quincy visibly relaxes.
“How about a tour of the building?”
.
.
“And this is the dining hall.” Brother Elijah -the figure who had given him the bear cookies earlier, now dressed in a much less ominous, but still quite formal looking cassock- says, gesturing through the open doors to a surprisingly quaint looking dining room, “If you bring food with you, you can eat it here on your break, or you can take it outside and eat in the courtyard, that’s what a lot of us do when it’s nice outsi- Are you quite alright, Mr. Byrne?”
“This place is… way bigger than I expected.” Quincy breathes, “How are you not tired?”
Brother Elijah sets his hands on his hips, looking confident, “I can run the length of this building three times over in twenty minutes or so.”
“I timed it once out of curiosity!”
“I’m… whoo…” Quincy sits down on a nearby bench, Brother Elijah stands beside him, hands behind his back, “I don’t know when I got so out of shape.”
“Ehn, it happens. Once you hit thirty-five or so-”
Quincy coughs, “I’m twenty-seven.”
Brother Elijah’s eyebrows hit the ceiling, “Really?”
“I don’t know whether or not I should be offended, how old are you that you think thirty-five is old anyway?”
“Forty-eight. I’ll be forty-nine in August.”
Quincy makes a face.
“No…”
“Yes, actually!”
“You look younger than me!”
“I have a great skin care routine.” He shrugs, “I think it’s probably because I still have my hair intact, no gray hairs either… Ah, apologies…”
Quincy runs a hand through his hair, through the white patch in the front, “Ehn, I like my hair.”
An awkward silence fills the space between them.
“Um… Do you… Do you like working here, Brother Elijah?” Quincy asks when he’s finally feeling less winded.
The older man nods, “I’ve been here for quite some time now, and I don’t feel I’ll be leaving anytime soon. I have friends here, and, well, it’s certainly an interesting place to live.”
“You live here, too?”
“Many of us do.” he says, looking a little somber, “Some people come to us because they have nowhere else to go, and others, like myself, simply wanted a fresh start… If I might pry a little, could I ask you something?”
“Mn.” Quincy nods, “Go ahead.”
“Are you at all superstitious, Mr. Byrne?”
“Like, do I believe in ghosts and the supernatural? Or… like fortunes and such?” Quincy asks, crossing his legs, “I’ll admit I enjoy reading my horoscope in the paper now and then, but, well, I’ve never really put much stock in the paranormal.”
“I see.” the man smiles, unlike the sister’s smile, it seems wholly genuine and kind, “And what is your star sign?”
“Capricorn.”
“Ah, yes, the sea goat. An interesting one that, being an earth based sign, yet being depicted by a creature you’d sooner see in the water than on land.” He chuckles, “And what did the paper tell you today?”
“I think it was, ‘Something you lost will be returned to you.’, though it hasn’t happened yet, so…” Quincy shrugs, “Though, I don’t recall anything I could have lost either.”
“Is there anything you were hoping to have given back to you?”
“Nothing immediately comes to mind, no.” He says, standing up slowly, “What about you?”
“Hm?”
“Your star sign?”
“I am a leo, if I’m remembering correctly.”
Quincy hums, “I think your fortune for today was 'A new business venture will yield unexpected results’ or something like that… It’s all a bit silly, huh?”
“Indeed it is.” he laughs, then pauses, holding up a hand, “Listen.”
The sounds of a bell tolling echoes through the halls.
It chimes once.
Twice.
And then a third and finally time.
“3 o'clock on the dot.”
“It’s that late already?” Quincy blinks, “It feels like I only just got here…”
“Do you have somewhere else to be at the moment?”
“No, not really, I, uh, I worked closing at my old job last night.” he explains, “It’s been a while since I’ve really been up and at 'em at this time.”
“Ah, I see. We can finish up the tour when you return tomorrow.”
“Thank you, I look forward to it.”
Despite parting ways with Brother Elijah, Quincy finds himself lingering outside of the abbey, waiting for his ride to show up.
He hadn’t wanted to drive all the way out here in his own car… at least not yet, for a variety of reason, but mostly because he hadn’t wanted her to see him leave, to question where he was going or, worse yet, follow him there.
It would be easier to cuts ties with her, with the rest of them, too, if he could just… disappear.
Truth be told, he’d had to stop himself from asking Brother Elijah how one might go about moving into a place like the abbey.
He’s certain if he asked, he might be understanding of his circumstances, but Quincy…
He’d rather not get into all of that on the first day.
“Just… see if you like it, and go from there.” he tells himself, closing his eyes and letting out a deep exhale, “Just gotta wait it out.”
Checking his phone for the first time in hours, Quincy feels the tension build behind his brow as he sees how many missed calls he has, how many texts…
At some point, he’ll have to decide whether to just block them all or change his number.
Turning off his phone, Quincy sits down on the steps and waits.
It’s oddly peaceful out here, and the air feels crisp and clean.
It’s… it’s nice.
Watching the grass roll on a nearby hill, he can’t help but think…
“Shawn would have liked it here.”
He’s glad when the rain picks back up before the car arrives.
.
.
The abbey’s library is absolutely stunning.
He’d said as much when Brother Elijah brought him there after his interview, and, even now, nearly a month into his work, Quincy finds it just as magnificent and fantastical as the first time.
However…
“20 down, 6 letters, an old English word for church…”
Although Quincy loves the library, it’s not the most lively place.
Clergy come and go, and some linger to study books about this or that, Quincy isn’t sure what the primary focus of their research is, but much of it involves skimming through heavy resource books that are all written in some archaic language he cannot begin to understand.
Thankfully, the spines are labeled in English, or, at the very least, Latin.
A bell tolls, signifying midday, and the assembled clergy begin closing their books, setting them off to the side, shuffling their notes and gathering their belongings to leave.
Quincy nods to them as they depart, and receives small waves and warm smiles in response.
The siblings are always very respectful and polite, to the extent that it makes him a little nervous.
Despite having left the faith years ago, Quincy had grown up Christian, and is still struggling to unlearn the more “us or them” teachings his church had beaten into his head as a child and young teenager.
It is not an easy thing to do, and his mind often swirls with negative thoughts and feelings that he tries not to let color his opinions of the people around him, but he has to try.
Quincy stretches, then stands slowly, rolling up his sleeves.
“Right, let’s get to it…”
Tidying up the library requires Quincy’s full attention, having not fully acquainted himself with the layout, he can easily sort the books themselves by their DDCs but…
“Why are none of these shelves labeled??”
“Mn, I believe it’s because the late Papa Emeritus III found the placards too plain, and thought that they ‘detracted from the aesthetics’…” Brother Elijah had told him during lunch one afternoon, “Which is… funny, considering I do not think he spent much time actually in the library… at least not to utilize the resources there.”
“What was he doing then??” Quincy had questioned, “Just sitting about?”
“Ah, no…” Brother Elijah trailed off, “Well, kind of. He was fond of… roleplay so to speak.”
Quincy is still not entirely sure what he meant by that.
What kind of so-called “roleplay” could you even do in a library??
He’d tried to ask Brother Elijah exactly that, but the older man waved him off, saying it was better if he didn’t know.
The same day, whilst cleaning, Quincy found a desk towards the back of the library, out of view, with… decidedly nail shaped indentations on the surface, as if someone had been gripping it tightly.
He’s still not sure what to do with this information, nor certain how or why he thinks it’s connected to the dead guy’s… roleplay.
Returning to the present, Quincy finds himself on the second floor, a single book remaining in his hands; It’s old and worn, and the sticker label marking where it belongs has long since faded beyond his ability to read.
He flips it open, examining cover to cover trying to find some marker or indication of where it belongs, but everything written inside -and indeed it is written, handwritten in a brownish ink- is in an illegible cursive scrawl.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think he accidentally snatched up one of the siblings’ notebooks, but the book was simply too old for that to be the case.
The paper, the bindings…
It’s a very old tome indeed.
Another bell tolls.
“I’ll figure this out later.” he tells himself, descending the staircase and depositing the book at the front desk beside his crossword puzzle, grabbing his bag and departing from the library… only to find the hallways packed with clergy members and much chatter.
Quincy hops to see over the crowd, but he can barely see passed the wall of people.
“What’s going on?” he asks, tapping the shoulder of a nearby sibling.
“The ghouls have returned!” they announce excitedly, “They’re finally back!”
“The what now?”
“The ghouls!”
Quincy blinks, “That… clears up absolutely nothing.”
“The ghouls are high ranking members of the church.” a now familiar voice explains, “They’re essentially celebrities here.”
Quincy tilts his head up in the crowd, making eye contact with Brother Elijah.
“So they’re kind of like… the 'popular kids’ here then?”
Brother Elijah chuckles, “Mn, not quite. They do have a rather large following, but that’s only natural, they are musicians after all, and everyone gets at least a little excited to see their favorite ones.”
Quincy hops to see over the crowd again, catching a glimpse of… well, more tops of heads, and one face towering above the assembled clergy.
He makes the briefest of eye contact with the man; He’s tall and lean, with a narrow face and long brown hair that looks oh so soft, and when he locks eyes with Quincy, it may be his imagination, but there’s the slightest hint of…
…Anger?
Quincy shivers, grateful, suddenly, for the wall of people between them.
He’s certain the other had scowled upon seeing him.
It could just be nerves, or his mind playing tricks on him and seeing hostility where there is none, but he doesn’t try to jump up to confirm either theory.
“Are you alright?” Brother Elijah asks, peering down at him worriedly.
“Ah, just… wondering when the crowd will clear up.” he says, waving off the other’s concerns, “I wanted to go eat my lunch.”
“If you say so.” he hums, “Here, I’ll clear a path. Stick close.”
With that, Brother Elijah begins pushing his way through the crowd, and Quincy grabs the band around his cassock to keep them tethered together so he doesn’t get lost.
It doesn’t take long before they’ve popped free into the main corridor, taking the opposite path from the… the ghouls?
“W-Why are they called ghouls?” Quincy asks, letting go of Brother Elijah’s belt, “Is that, like, a status thing?”
“In a sense, yes.” he says, smoothing his uniform, “It’s hard to explain, and I’m not entirely sure how much I can tell you about that, honestly.”
“It’s another one of those, 'You have to be in the know.’ kind of deals, yeah?”
He nods.
“It’s better if, for now, you just make yourself aware of their presence and avoid them when you can.” he goes on to say, “They’re not bad people, nor particularly dangerous, but they can be a bit… much.”
“You forget I used to work in a bar, Brother.” Quincy points out, “I’ve likely dealt with similar or even worse.”
“Still… I think it would be better if you didn’t involve yourself with them more than you have to.” the other states, his brow furrowed.
He seems genuinely worried about the idea of him interacting with the ghouls, but that just makes Quincy… curious.
However.
“Mn, I probably won’t see them, so it’s fine.” he says, “One of them, the really tall one, he gave me an odd look and, frankly, I don’t want to find out what it means..."
“Ahh, that would be Mountain… He’s a fairly easygoing person, but he can be rather… abrasive at first.”
“His name is… Mountain?”
“Yes. Actually, all of them have sort of-" Brother Elijah searches for the right word to use, "-nicknames?”
“I se-” Quincy’s stomach growls loudly, cutting himself off.
Brother Elijah smiles.
“Come now, let’s get some food in you.”
.
.
Returning to the library after lunch -mostly simple, easy to eat snacks like fruit or cheese for Quincy, and a sandwich from the kitchen for Brother Elijah- Quincy settles back behind the front desk, pulling out the book from earlier and tries to glean any new information from it that he can.
The letters seem to swirl on the pages nonsensically at first, but the longer he focuses on them, the more recognizable the shapes become.
He can tell which are meant to be lowercase 'q’s, 'p’s, 'g’s, and 'y’s now at the very least.
But none of the words are familiar to him.
He sets the book down again, taking out his crossword again.
“13 across, 7 letters, a rumbling during a storm…”
“Thunder.” a low voice booms, “…do you always do puzzles while working?”
Quincy startles, almost falling out of his chair, but a long arm reaches across the desk, grabbing the back of it.
"Ah."
Quincy's eyes widen.
"You should be more careful."
It's... it's the man from before.
It's Mountain.
"I-I'm sorry-"
“You need not apologize to me.” the tall man sighs, “But, really, you should pay more attention to your surroundings, how could you not hear me come in?”
Quincy squirms in his seat, he feels like a little kid caught doing something wrong.
“I… I was distracted.”
“Yes, by your puzzle.” he states coolly, gesturing at the paper, now spread out across the floor behind the desk, dropped in his fright.
“I’m sorry.” he apologizes again, “I-I… were you trying to get my attention? I’m sorry…”
Mountain frowns, righting the chair and pulling Quincy back towards the desk in one fluid motion.
Why is he so strong??
Why is he so… fucking tall??
Quincy gulps.
“I just wanted to say hello, but you seemed to be off in your own little world, so I thought I might snap you back to reality before someone more important found you goofing off on the job.” he chastises, clicking his teeth for emphasis, “You haven’t been here nearly long enough to get away with this sort of thing, so you have to be careful, yes?”
Quincy nods quickly, “Yes, Sir.”
Mountain’s face contorts more, if possible, becoming even more annoyed.
“Don’t call me 'sir’.”
“What… what should I call you then?” he asks, side-eyeing the massive hand still latched to the back of the chair.
“Mountain.”
“Mountain… I’m…”
“Quincy Byrne.” Mountain drawls, tilting his nametag upwards with a single, large finger from his free hand, “I want us to be friends, so, be careful not to get yourself into trouble, alright?”
Friends?
He-
With that, Mountain releases him, standing to his full height, and ascends the stairs to the second floor, leaving Quincy to babble uselessly.
“What.”
What was that?!
Despite Mountain having righted his chair before leaving him, Quincy still bails out onto the floor with a loud crash.
“Ow…”
“…Are you alright?” Mountain calls from the upstairs railing.
“Y-Yeah, I’m great.”
Quincy sits on the floor for a moment, trying to regain his composure.
What even…
Grabbing his paper from the floor, Quincy goes to stand, bumping his head on the underside of the desk.
Thud.
A loud sigh echoes through the silence of the library.
Oi.
“Be quiet down there, some of us are actually trying to get work done.”
Quincy bristles, “I-”
“Shhhh-”
Did he just shush him???
Ugh…
Quincy picks up his chair and sits back down, about to toss his paper in the bin, when…
“Oh, 20 down…”
“Cirice.” Mountain says from somewhere above, “And do learn to read in your head.”
Quincy bites his tongue to keep from screaming.
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adamwatchesmovies · 11 months
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Tin & Tina (2023)
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If you only ace one part of your movie, make it the ending. For the most part, I was enjoying Tin & Tina but it didn't seem like anything special. After the final act, my thoughts on it changed completely - for the better. Due to that period of uncertainty, I have to be slightly conservative with my rating, but this is a movie I’ll remember down the line.
Set during the early 1980s, in Spain, Lola (Milena Smit) and Adolfo (Jaime Lorente) have just said their marriage vows when they unexpectedly lose their unborn twins in a miscarriage. Hoping to make their family whole again, the couple adopt twins Tin (Carlos González Morollón) and Tina (Anastasia Russo) from a nearby religious convent. Lola soon becomes suspicious of the children, though Adolfo insists their odd behavior stems from innocence rather than malice.
When we meet the twins, they seem needlessly creepy. They’re either albino or extremely blonde, they’ve got weird haircuts and their smiles are too big. The children are extremely religious. They've never watched TV, they quote the Bible for fun, the idea of not saying grace before a meal mortifies them. It's offputting but you can understand where that behavior comes from since they were raised by nuns. They're introduced playing the organ with a skill far beyond their years (reminded me of “The Orphan”), which is another sure sign that these kids are baaad news. Despite their appearances and strange habbits, you can see why Lola wants to adopt them, however. As a child, she lost a leg. She was also a “weird” kid and she’s specifically looking to replace the twins she lost.
Soon after arriving to their new home, Tin and Tina's actions raises some serious red flags. Not necessarily the kind that exposes them as evil but they would make any sane parent go back to the orphanage and ask the sister in charge (sor Asunción, played by Teresa Rabal) if she ever noticed anything weird from them. Less patient parents would go to the police and tell them to investigate the orphanage. Whatever those nuns are teaching the rugrats, it’s going to make them all into serial killers. Even for loving parents who really want a family, even for the place and the time period, Lola & Adolfo are way, way too cool with what happens. No one watching would tolerate some of the horror movie behavior exhibited. It’s enough to make you want these people to fall victim to whatever terrors await them once the kids turn full-on evil. I mean when you can’t read ANY of the signs, you deserve it.
Although I still feel like sometimes, Lola – and to a certain extent Adolfo too – let things that no one else, not even a saint, would let slide and that is frustrating, the ending changes all of that. This movie is much smarter than it seems. You see the creepy kids, you witness the horror-movie behavior, you think you know exactly where the plot is headed. You dismiss the characters as too stupid to live and essentially give up. What you don't realize is that you’re the one who's made the mistake. There’s something you haven’t considered while evaluating this story and probably wouldn't have in a million years: the possibility that although this is a horror film, the children aren’t actually evil. What if they’re not the problem? What if it’s Lola and Adolfo?
There are indeed subtle details that hint at the couple not being idyllic. At the orphanage, Adolfo insists that they’re only for children free from deformities. His wife wears a prosthetic leg. She has since childhood. What does this statement say about him? We find out that Lola has a bitter relationship with God. Bitter enough to make her subconsciously hate children who love Him more than anything else? Maybe. Trust me. I know not knowing if a movie is better than "just ok" for nearly 2-hours is hard, particularly with several developments that make you think "Oh come on. How many more signs do you need?!" but it all comes together so well during the conclusion you'll feel foolish for having doubted the film.
There may also be a deeper meaning to some elements of the picture, since it's set during a tumultuous period of Spain's history that I'm not familiar with. I can't say for sure. What I do know is that Tin & Tina deserves your patience. I'm still not 100% sure the characters are not a little bit dumb but that conclusion is so solid I'm more than willing to forgive it. It's scary and makes you think in the most unexpected way. (Original Spanish with English subtitles, May 28, 2023)
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Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic
Summary: Danny Fights some Nomus
Word count: 2109
Chapter 5:
5/?
Danny didn’t know what he did to make the hero so mad. The hero tried to hide it, but Danny could tell. He was walking faster, his hands clenched, his smile a little too forceful. He no longer smiled at Danny like he did when their conversion first started. Maybe the social norms were different here. Maybe it's just this guy’s problem. 
“So, what’s your quirk?” The noise was sudden like a gunshot, Danny almost missed what he said.  
“My quirk? I mean I guess I like space and stuff, but I don’t think it’s that weird.” What type of person asks someone that when they just met?  
“No.” he sounded final, “Your power. What is it?” The man's eyes bore into Danny again. It was like when they first met, this time it went straight through Danny's bones.  
“My power?” Danny didn’t know how to answer that. The man was becoming more and more tense, he could feel it. Danny needed to answer soon, “I can go intangible.” That was the first power that Danny got, and so the first thing that came to mind.  
“Oh yeah? Show me.” The hero turned around. He had a playful smile on. Danny knew it wasn’t real.  
Danny knelt on the ground and stuck his arm through the cold concrete. He could feel how things interacted with his arm, nothing moved, but it was like he was able to feel the jagged outline of the rocks. Or maybe he thought he could feel it, so he did. Ectoplasm was weird like that.  
Fat Gum breathed in deeply.  
“Oh wow, that’s really something” Fat Gum was trying to smile wider, “Nice quirk kid. Is there a time limit on that?” He cocked his head to the side, “Or are you able to breathe while going through stuff? Seems like an impressive quirk.” there was something unsaid, What are your weaknesses?   
Danny knew what this was. He had to get away.  
“I-” an explosion was heard and suddenly people all around were screaming. Danny’s core shook.  
Protect.  
The hero had turned around at the blast, shock and horror filled his face. In a blink, Danny turned invisible and flew off, not bothering to look back as the hero turned to look for him.  
★~★
People were screaming and running through the streets. Danny followed the noise into a little shopping district and saw a…. What the fuck are those things?  
There were two of them. One of them was a weird zombie creature with only half a face and the other, a weird skin bird-man-thing. They both had their brains sticking out of their heads like one of those sad goldfish.  
They were attacking a group of heroes (anyone in a costume was a hero in this world) and the heroes were losing. Badly. They were being batted away like mosquitos. People still crowded around the area, either being frozen with fear or not fully understanding the danger yet. The only reason the creatures weren’t going after them is that they were being distracted by the heroes.  
One of the things threw an empty bus at a hero (who did not die). When it fell, an explosion blasted out and created a massive fire.  
A minotaur man ripped a fire hydrant from the ground and threw it at one of those things. The impact did nothing. He kept yelling to another man who was talking to a kid. Oh no. A kid shouldn’t be anywhere near this.   
The hero sent the kid away ( good ) and started WATERBENDING!!!!! But the one with the wings kept fanning and spreading the fire. By the time he put the big one out, smaller ones would already be everywhere.  
Danny couldn’t watch anymore (he didn’t know how he could for so long). He didn’t know much about this world, but he knew they were outmatched. The one with wings swept towards a hero, its toes ? Claws? Ready to take him away.  
“Hey Bird-Brain! Go long!” Danny threw a ball of ice at it. It distracted it enough for the hero to get out of the way.  
It roared. Do birds roar? Is that the right noise? Maybe shrieked is better.  
Not the time.  
Danny kept pelting its wing with ice. One huge chunk weighed it to the ground. That didn’t make it any less dangerous.  
“Get out of here kid” said the hero who Danny just saved. Danny glared at him, and the hero shut up. Danny didn’t have time for that (well he did not not have the time, but he didn’t want to deal with that right now). He circled around the bird thing, encasing it with ice. That should at least keep him busy.   
The minotaur was fighting the one missing half its face (what's a good name for that one? Baldy? Well, they both didn’t have hair…) but it was clear he was at his limit for the amount of hits he could take. Baldy grabbed his arm and threw him into the hero putting out the fires. Neither of them got back up. Only one hero remained. 
Instead of continuing to rampage, Baldy noticed the people for the first time and went charging towards them. Danny was able to intersect its punch as the thing aimed at a dog-walker.  
It was the most anything Danny had felt in a while. All day and the one before, he was almost numb.  
Now. Now he felt alive.  
He was able to take all the attacks that the thing threw at him and return them ten-fold. He had to be careful of its hands though. It’s punches were hard, but just as quickly as Danny dodged a hit, it would try to grab him.  
“What hero is that?”   
“I don’t know, I don’t recognize him”  
“Maybe he’s an intern or new sidekick?”   
“Who’s his mentor?”  
“Didn’t Manual get a new intern?”   
“I don’t think that's him”  
Danny couldn’t hear them. It grabbed hold of his arm and slammed him into the concrete. It left a crater and suddenly Danny felt nostalgic.  
The thing didn’t relent in its attacks. Danny was on his stomach and the thing kept hitting him in his back. He could hear screaming. His body felt like jelly, but now he was able to turn his torso around and create an ecto shield. With a break from the attacks, Danny was able to see the damage. His body was jelly. His waist was twisted around like a cloth being wrung out, and his legs were backwards from the rest of him. Okay . That's a new development. He had seen other ghosts do it before, and even himself had done it one time, but he had to actively focus on contorting his body. This, however, was like a reflex. No. Less than that. It was like twisting his wrist or his torso. It was too natural.   
The thing was still hitting his shield and he could hear the bird thing start to destroy the ice.  
Danny had to end this fast.  
Danny sent his shield back and knocked Baldy away with a screech. His shield shattered and embedded itself in the thing's skin. Then it bled. Oh this, this Danny could work with.  
He was certain that this thing wasn’t human. Or at least not human anymore. Ghost and zombie rules applied. He coated his hands in ice in a make-shift gauntlet. They were thick and jagged with more weight than he wanted, but they would work just as well in any size. 
Danny didn’t let the thing recover as he started his volley on the creature’s flesh. Each hit was heavy and satisfying. It was like stabbing pencils in an orange. The result was the same. It lay there, twitching before Danny’s feet.  
Holy shit that was a lot. Wow.   
Danny didn’t have time to think. Bird-Brain had escaped the ice and was starting to fly away. Danny chased after him, an ice blast under his skin, but it’s wings were fanning the still surrounding flames. Embers had landed on a tree and grass where a few people were hidden. Danny knelt down and pressed his palms on the ground. He sent a road of sleet towards the tree, and it traveled up the tree and coated it in an instant. That was also new. The people surrounding only had minor burns but stared at the tree with shock and awe on their faces.  
Right away he started icing down the smaller fires around him. The range of his ice had increased, and Danny realized he had yet to transform. Is there anything to change into left?  
In Danny’s haste to put out the smaller fires, he had completely neglected the initial fire. It had gotten smaller as its fuel burned, but there was a leak that it was following towards a beer and liquor store.  
Danny felt a swell of heat on his back. The fire had just entered the door and was already eating the shelves. It would only be a moment til it would explode out.  
With a deep inhale that he didn’t need, Danny’s hands started to glow brighter than before. It should be fine. Ecto ice wasn’t made out of water, nothing bad should happen.  
Danny jinxed it. Something bad happened.  
Before he was able to ice down the fire, a blast rocketed out. Using the already built up energy in his hands, he created a dome of ice. Everyone was so scattered out that it wouldn’t be big enough. Danny would be fine, he survived way worse, but the people behind him would get hurt .  
The blast was getting closer, but Danny’s attention was on how his ice was still spreading and forming. He saw in slow motion how it was able to cover the whole two-lane street. Everyone was okay.   
Dust and light debris blew away and settled peacefully as a chill filled the air. Danny couldn’t feel it. He could only feel the sharp eyes of the heroes and civilians alike watching him. Their mouths were dropped. They were looking at him like he was a monster. A freak . And Danny was. He always was .  
For so long he thought it was only just powers, that he wasn’t anything more or anything less than what Spectra said. Just a creepy boy with creepy powers . How could you accept that you weren’t human anymore? How could you accept that you had died? It was little things at first. He didn’t get cold, food didn’t taste the same, he had to remind his feet to touch the ground, and there were moments where he couldn’t feel anything physical at all .  
The big event was when he fell asleep in class. Mr. Lancer had made a sarcastic remark about Danny not paying attention, but he didn’t respond. It grew into concern when he stepped closer. Danny wasn’t breathing and he didn’t have a pulse. He woke up when his ghost sense went off at the hospital. He was in the body bag.   
“A ghost trying to fit in with humans.” Rang out in his head.  
That's all he was. No more. No less.   
But even that wasn’t true anymore . Now there was no hiding behind his human body. He had felt when he died in the fight with Pariah. He was just glad he wasn’t alone… 
Danny was starting to spiral. It would be so easy to test it, to see if he had even an inkling of human left in him. All he needed to do was transform… 
A teen stepped closer to him. Danny backed away from the movement. The teen looked at Danny. He could see frost on the boy’s breath. His face filled with resolve and suddenly the boy bowed deeply.  
“Thank you for saving us!” That seemed to spark everyone around him and more and more ‘thank yous’ were heard. 
“Thank you so much!” One woman with soot on her face yelled. 
“I was on my way home when that thing attacked. I would have never seen my husband again” Said a man.  
Danny was shocked. No one had ever thanked him so publicly. It had always been teens in private or notes left around his frequent spots. He grabbed at his chest, his core pounded harder and hard with every new voice.  
More and more people came up to him and some even shook his hand. His vision was starting to get blurry. Why did someone saying thank him make him feel like this? 
As if on cue, more heroes arrived on the scene with fire trucks and paramedics.  
Everyone was okay.  
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hungriestheidi · 8 months
Note
May i request prompt 98 for Sewis if it’s ok for u
oh that's a wonderful idea anon, here you go!
“These days, I think about you,” Lewis says, fetching his shirt from under the bed, “but you’re never the same person I created in my mind.”
“That’s what happens with everyone,” Sebastian tells him, like he’s bound to know these things, like it’s a given those we love will always be someone distinct than what we remember, what we think of. He shrugs, says “that’s life,” and looks back out of the window.  
Sebastian smokes organic cigarettes and rolls his Rs a weird way and tells Lewis that life is meaningless unless we give it a meaning, holds his hand and calls him divine if he means to. That Sebastian is the one he likes, the one he picked apart until it became fragments of his own psyche, of his own understanding of the universe.
But Sebastian now, Sebastian in the flesh, with a baseball cap and a shirt two sizes too large over baggy black shorts, this is not who he loves, not who he crawls into bed with when the world is too big, too horrid. He climbs down the fire escape to see the Sebastian he created like a mosaic of the best of him inside his head, someone so tender and sweet that one day will ask him to be his partner and build a house around him, only to find a Sebastian that smokes cigarettes out of the window and lets him to fend for himself with the aftermath of too much sex, not enough feelings.
“I don’t like that,” he tells him, putting on his socks, watching the sunset past Sebastian’s rounded shoulders, there are loose threads spilling out of the stitching and Lewis looks at them like pieces of his humanity reaching for the good, holy light of the sun.
“Too bad,” Sebastian responds and takes another drag of his cigarette before offering it to him. Lewis takes it, scooting close to him on the window, pretending the person he imagined is still here, under shell he can’t crack just yet.  
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stars-in-a-jam-jar · 1 month
Note
[JUMPS IN YOUR INBOX] YOU! KEEP TALKING.
Saw your analysis post information Marble Sky and was incredibly intrigued by how well you connected details in the story. I hadn't caught the detail of Holly presumably being an incredibly important member of his species because of his addition to The Vault. That's a very nice catch. Additionally, I do think you're right about the Vault's function being long-term preservation rather than a holding place for people about to be killed. Holly's obviously been there long enough to put down literal roots and has been onserved to be peaceful enough that Ward was placed with him for co-habitation.
Not only does that imply that Sculptors cares about his subjects not killing each other, but he also has found through rooting around in Ward's brain that humans are social creatures and need social interaction to maintain vitality. If he has plans to kill Ward, it wouldn't make sense for him to place him with another inmate, giving him a "roomie" suggests that he plans to keep Ward long-term, and in fair mental condition. The same applies to Holly as well. Nobodies stopped him from growing plants in the Vault, despite him obviously being captured and under surveillance. If we're to assume that proximjty to vegetation is important for teegardians (tbh its important for humans too, but I digress) then it can be assumed that they're trying to keep him sane as well. Not for anything good, mind you, but it implies Sculptor isn't a "mad" scientist but rather a thorough and clinically practical one.
I have Thoughts about other aspects of your analysis (positive ones prommy) but this ask is very long. Anyway A+ analysis you forced me to overcome social anxiety to brain dump in your inbox haha
Thank you♡♡♡♡♡
I love when a scientist who's Objectively A Bad Guy is also Objectively A Good Scientist, it makes everything feel so tactile, if that's the way to describe it. "Some of you will die be horrifically traumatized and violated by weird information scraping biotech. But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make."
There seems to be established protocols around the situation with the humans. 'We found a primitive spacecraft with creatures inside.' 'The edible kind?' Ward says he feels like they're being watched. Ecliptica warns Alcor not to bite Oscar because he doesn't know where he's been. These Are Very Organized People, and because we the audience are more inclined to lean into Oscar's POV than Ward's on account of wanting to see Oscar successfully woo this big scary alien, we don't notice how Fucking Terrifying That Organization Is. An organization facilitated by Sculptor's deeply unethical science because final leadership defaults to Ecliptica due to her being the biggest and strongest.
Like. Like the Echolocators a curious species, but in a universe where they are some of the most dangerous things in space, so everyone, especially high ranking officials like Sculptor and Ecliptica, just confidently takes what they want. The hierarchy within their own colony is functionally the only thing that gives any of them pause. When Ecliptica is testing how far Oscar's trust in her not being a danger to him goes, Alcor fearfully scurries out of his arms because 'Oh shit, the moon is getting up in my space, I gotta get out of here.' and he looks on anxiously as she picks Oscar up because Oscar is his fun big dude who tastes like a great snack when he bites him and has this cool music stuff in his headphones. It's perfectly fine for Alcor to crawl all over and cling to Oscar, but suddenly Oscar is up close and personal with the most dangerous thing in Alcor's life and he just stands next to Ward anxiously flicking his tail around.
I have an idea mostly based around uhhh nothing I guess that it's not that female Echolocators are rare or anything, it's that they're Extremely Territorial and very likely to fucking Kill one another.
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north-blue-hearts · 9 months
Text
Family Practice
CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law
CW: sex, language, violence
Summary: Modern Mafia-coded AU starts in last semester of College
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chapter 2: Graded
A few weeks later you’re in the library again and Law comes to sit with you. He sets a cup of coffee down in front of you and one for himself. Before he sits down across from you, he pulls out his wallet and hands over the agreed upon money.
Your face lights up as you take it. “New high score?”
There’s a hint of a smile. “Yeah. I suppose I owe you an apology.”
“Bah,” you wave it off, tucking the money away. “You’ve paid the price for doubting my genius.” You grin. “So, your grades were already high, did you ace it?”
He shook his head. “99.3%. Highest score on the midterms that professor has seen in thirty years.”
“Hells, you missed…” You did the math in your head. “A fraction of a question?”
“Yeah, most of the test was multiple parts per question.” He explains.
“Wow, that’s impressive Pre-Med.” You admit, teasing him with the old nickname. “It feels weird, as a lazy linguistics major to say so, but I’m proud of you.”
“Am I going to be Pre-Med until I have my PhD in my hands, or?”
You grin. “Maybe. Ah, so anyway, I won, and you’ve only paid the processing fee. Where’s the rest?”
Law sighs. “Your place. Sachi and Penguin are hosting a study group tonight.”
“Fair enough. Are you going to bring dinner with you, or am I handling it?”
“Are you going to order abominations again?”
“Abomin… I’m not the emo reject that dislikes bread. Bread! Of all things!” Your face reflects your continued disbelief. “I could get it if you were allergic, but to just dislike it as a matter of opinion is,” you could feel Law’s eye twitching. “Unique. Touchy subject?”
“A little.”
You put your hands up. “My apologies then.”
“Back to the question.”
You smile, “Pad Thai? Oh, ready to brave my cooking?” You ask excitedly.
It took a couple days for you and Law to adjust to one another, but it’s been going smooth since. He’s a man of few words until he’s really interested in something, or passionate about it. A little stunted in the emotional development department, but not so much that you couldn’t work out what was going on in his head. Reading people was something of a survival skill for you, so you were good at it.
His roommates, Sachi and Penguin are studying marine biology, and a fourth friend of theirs Bepo is double majoring in Zoology and wildlife conservation. Because of his schedule, you’ve only met Bepo once so far, but he was the biggest, cuddliest, most polite pile of walking warmth you’d ever met. He had an unforgivably cute collection of polar bear hats and scarves too.
In making one accidental friend you ended up making four friends, and it was nice to know you actually could. Making friends in middle school and high school had been easy - being stuck in classes with the same people over and over would help anyone make friends. College was a different beast.
“Pad Thai is fine.” Law states, trying to hide the look of horror that slipped across his features.
You sigh, but you can’t argue. You’d have to beg some cooking lessons from Sanji the next time you were back home. You weren’t a terrible cook, but you weren’t a good cook, and unfortunately you had been so nervous about cooking for your new friend that you had managed to set pasta on fire. The night had ended in Law administering first aid to some burns on your arm, and the two of you eating chicken wings.
The rest of the day goes easily and the two of you head over to your apartment. You had considered staying in the dorms, but the apartment you found was one of Shanks’ properties, and he was good friends with Luffy. You got offered a deal that would’ve been financially irresponsible to turn down. Shanks, like Big Mom and Pops, was head of his own organization. He was a kind of a spiritual successor to a long-passed rival of Pops’, and Shanks was also one of the biggest reasons Luffy became who he was.
Out of everyone, Shanks actually scared you the most. He was too jovial and easy going, and you couldn’t read him like you could most people. His success coupled with his general attitude had you convinced there was a demon behind those eyes. Really good-looking, wildly disarming eyes, if you were being honest, but that just made him scarier in your opinion. Not that you feared him, but you had zero interest in becoming friends or associates with him.
Let someone else wrangle that beast.
“Welcome to my swanky bachelor pad.” You said jokingly, opening the door and letting Law step in first.
He got his foot just past the threshold and his hands grabbed onto the doorframe. “(Y/N)-ya… did you do this yourself?”
“Gods no,” you said, trying not to laugh. “I lost a bet with my brother, and I think he brought the whole family down to redecorate for me over the weekend.”
Inside your usually spartan space, there were velvet sheets and blankets hanging from the walls and ceiling. Various colors of light bulbs created a slightly rainbow effect, but they weren’t so bright in hue as to clash. A beaded curtain was hung just inside the entrance, and you were glad that you had turned off the “ambiance enhancing music” this morning before you had left.
Thankfully your kitchen and bathroom had been spared, but your bedroom looked like a red-light special and you were absolutely not letting anyone in there right now.
“Please get in there before someone passes by and thinks I’ve converted my room to a hookah bar.” You urged, and Law stepped inside reluctantly.
“How long is it staying like this?” Law’s distaste for the new look was obvious.
“…until finals.” You admit with a defeated sigh.
“What was the bet?”
You made a very displeased noise. There was silence from Law as the two of you made your way to the living room.
“… (Y/N)-ya?”
“Eh?”
“What was your midterm grade?”
You made the same displeased noise and Law wheeled around practically glaring at you.
“Don’t tell me you failed?” The disbelief in his voice was comforting. In the last few weeks you had at least proven your capacity to be on par with him in terms of book-smarts.
“Hardly!” You scoffed, but you were having a hard time looking at him. “Look, I passed. I passed with a respectable grade and everything.”
“Then what was the bet?” Law had his hand up to his temple, trying to stave off a headache.
“If I got anything less than an A, Marco - my, er, brother, was allowed to decorate my place as he saw fit.” You explained.
“What did you get?”
“Eighty-seven point nine percent.” You said in a devastated tone.
“That is respectable.” Law agreed. “What happened?”
“I refuse to answer.” You said, setting down your stuff and grabbing the menu off the fridge. “Tell me what you want.”
“Refuse to answer on what grounds?” Law pressed. You had both agreed to be at least mostly open about things, with a few caveats. Grades weren’t one of those caveats.
“There’s no way for me to answer that without giving it away, so I’ll just admit that I was completely flawless on the Latin portion of the test and maybe a little lacking in a couple other areas.” You say, leveling him with an aggravated glare.
Law put it together quickly and returned your grumpy expression. You weren’t surprised, you’d been helping him with his Latin-rooted medical terms a lot. “Don’t do that for the finals.”
“I won’t, I won’t, now dammit, I’m hungry - what do you want?”
After you got the food order in and made some tea you turned to Law and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“Alright, what do you want to know?” Law sighed. Lost bets came in two parts - monetary loss and the right to ask questions about the other.
“You mentioned an adoptive dad.” You say. “You can tell me about him or tell me why you were adopted. I’ll even toss in something about myself to help, since either option is pretty personal. I, technically, am adopted. My, uh, ‘Father’ is alive, but I’ve been raised by Pops since I was six.”
“I don’t mind answering both,” Law says. “Especially since you seem to have sacrificed your precious apartment in order to win our bet.”
Law looks more at his teacup than you, but his tone is even as he speaks, and there’s no sign of distress. “My parents got sick when I was middle school, and neither of them made it through my time in high school,” He explains softly. “They were both doctors, and I had always wanted to be one as well, but the whole… thing… really nailed my resolve into place. A friend of my father’s adopted me when it became clear that they weren’t going to survive, and so, Rosinante’s my adopted dad.”
You were quiet for a long time, not really sure what to say. Law took a couple sips of tea before speaking again.
“Too much?” He asks. There’s a tone of resignation in his voice, as though he feels like he messed up.
You shake your head. “Nah, I just don’t know what to say. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was, that sucks. It’s complicated too.”
“How so?” He asks, looking visibly confused. “I mean, it’s heavy, but it’s cut and dry.”
“Ah, er… it creates complicated thoughts in me.” You clarify.
“Your dad’s alive, but your mom’s not.” Law says. You hadn’t laid it out for him, but given what you’ve said before it makes sense he could sort it out. “I don’t want to make assumptions, but the fact that he’s alive and you’re living with a different dad means your situation is complicated. But, complicated or straightforward, it all does, uh, ‘suck’.”
“Yeah, loss is hard no matter the circumstances.” You agree. “I’m sorry about your folks.”
“Thanks.” Law smiles a little sadly. “You would’ve liked my mom. She was weird about words too.”
You were getting ready to be indignant about his joke when there was a knock at the door. Food had arrived and the conversation was on hold until the two of you sorted everything out. With some food to distract you, and ease some encroaching hangry-ness, you let the jab from earlier go and decided to switch gears.
“So, you said your dad was going to be away on business during winter break,” you said after a few bites of food. “Why don’t you come to Grandline with me?”
“It sounds exhausting just listening to you suggest it.” He admitted flatly.
“All the Charlotte kids are staying on campus.”
“How would you even know that?” Law looks more annoyed by the mention of the Charlotte family than he does impressed by your knowledge.
“Nutmeg and her friends aren’t exactly subtle.” You point out. “And they get on my nerves, so it’s hard to block them out.”
“How’s come?” There’s a tone of actual curiosity, and not just polite conversation in his voice.
You learned quickly that Trafalgar and the wall he had built up around himself were both rock solid. You weren’t surprised an aspiring doctor was practiced at keeping in shape, but you smacked him on the back once when you were kidding around. He’d turn an impressive red when you’d lifted his shirt up without thinking – you weren’t entirely convinced he was made of flesh at that point.
It had taken a lot of apologizing, and a couple rounds of free food to smooth things over. You’d admitted to having grown up around a lot of boys, half of which barely wore shirts unless the occasion demanded it. That had also been when you’d made the agreement about bets and getting to know one another.
“I can forgive the ‘Mrs. Degree’ thing, to an extent, but ‘Meg’s a smart girl. I haven’t asked her what her grades are or anything, but her answers in class, and even her questions, are genius. I’m talking ‘This will help the class understand better if I ask’ kinds of genius.” You explain, your shoulders dropping. “To think that her mind is preoccupied with trying to find love in a few short years, just so her mom doesn’t match her up with some troglodyte. Instead, she could be focusing on becoming whatever she wanted to be.”
“… They get on your nerves because you feel bad for them.” It wasn’t really a question, but it was barely a statement.
“Mm.” You admit, feeling your ears and face start to go pink. “S’weird, isn’t it?”
“Compared to the rest of you, hardly.” Law answers, his usual resting scowl softening a little.
You pause in eating for a moment and start laughing. “I can’t tell if you complimented me or devastated me.”
He eats quietly for a moment, and then lets out a small sigh. “If I don’t agree to go to Grandline City with you over break you’re going to hound me for the next week about it.”
“Next two weeks.” You correct him.
“Two weeks would put us a week into break.” He points out.
“Ah-yup.”
You can almost see his eye twitch.
“I’m being blackmailed.”
“By definition, yes.” You agree with a smile.
You watched the internal conflict tear through him. Trafalgar Law was a mostly subtle person. All his emotions hit the wall around him and barely made a crack on his face. You didn’t think he was truly an emotionless person – trauma and loss just made him wary about connecting with more people. After a couple weeks, though, you were learning what some of the small facial changes meant.
“… I don’t want to meet your family.” He said finally.
“I had no plans to subject you to that.” You promise him, taking out your phone and sending some texts while you’re thinking about it. “I’ll get Robin to reserve a couple rooms, and I’ll let my brothers know that I’ll be busy. Er, oh, I guess there is one thing…”
“What is it?” He was doing his best not to growl the words.
“Pop’s is going to have a big Christmas party a few days before the actual holiday. I’m not asking you to attend, I’m just saying you’ll be on your own for a few hours.” You admit a bit sheepishly.
Law sighs. “You’re dragging me to your hometown, but you don’t have to make sure I’m entertained the entire time, (y/n)-ya. I’ll survive.”
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banannabethchase · 1 year
Text
Matt was so focused on a bit for BTE that he misses his flight out to LA, and finds himself stuck in North Carolina. How lucky is he that a certain cowboy, a certain ex, sees his sad Instagram post and is able to give him an alternative.
~
Song title inspired by Heart Upon My Sleeve by Avicii feat. Imagine Dragons.
I had all of this read to publish like half an hour ago then AO3 stopped working and deleted all the edits and formatting I did. So. I am Upset.
~
“I know, I know,” Matt says, propping the phone up between his cheek and shoulder. “Just go without me.”
“You’ll miss your flight,” Nick says. “You know that, right? If you wait too long –”
“Nick, it’ll be fine,” Matt says, a little too sharply. “I’ll get there. You two get to the airport.” Matt hangs up the phone instead of dealing with Kenny and Nick’s haranguing, going back to the camera. He really needs to get this bit filmed in a hotel room – if he does it in an airport or at home, it won’t feel right.
It's another three takes, another half an hour, which Matt doesn’t realize until his alarm goes off.
“Uh oh.”
That’s his get to the gate alarm.
Matt pulls up Google Maps to find that the airport is half an hour away, and his flight leaves in an hour. Before he can do anything else, Nick’s name pops up on Caller ID.
“You’re still at the hotel, aren’t you.”
“I lost track of time,” and Matt won’t admit it to anyone else, but he’s whining. “Are they, like, boarding?”
“Yeah, me and Kenny are in line to get on the plane, man,” Nick says. “You’re screwed.”
Matt winces as he looks around the hotel. He still has to pick up the hotel room, still has to call a Lyft, still has to wait for it, still has to check out. “I’m screwed,” he says in a small voice.
“Call the airport and see if you can get a later flight out,” Kenny yells into the phone. “There’s got to be other flights.”
“Please stop reminding me you’re on your way to LA and I’m not,” Matt grumbles. “The one week you decide to come hang out.”
“Keep us posted on the other flights available,” Nick says. “Hopefully there are a bunch.”
There are, he finds out an hour and a half later when he gets to the front of the line of the check in area of the airport, but they’re all four or more hours away.
“And I wouldn’t bet on those flights making it to LA,” says the airline attendant. She turns the screen so Matt can see it. “Big storm across the Midwest. Honestly, if I were you, I’d find a place to stay here and try a flight tomorrow.”
Matt fights the urge to whine. “Okay,” he says, deflating. “Yeah, I’ll. I’ll check out a hotel. Thank you, ma’am.”
“No problem.”
Matt posts an Instagram story of himself pouting in the airport, captioning it with, “Stuck in North Carolina.”
As he’s scrolling hotel options, he gets a text.
[12:47pm]
You’re stuck in North Carolina?
Matt refuses to get too fluttery over a text from Adam. It’s clearly just him checking in.
[12:48pm]
big storm across the Midwest no flights out until Friday night they said
There’s a pause, and the phone dings
[12:56pm]
Need a ride?
Matt panics about the response for long enough to make it weird, then makes himself text back.
[1:03pm]
Not unless you can get me to la
[1:16pm]
If you want, you can stay at my place until it all clears up. I drove into NC so I’m about to make the trip back
Matt stares at his phone, rereading the text three times before allowing himself to believe what he’s seeing.
[1:20pm]
If that’s too weird, you can pretend I never sent that. But I’m happy to help you get wherever you need to go.
Matt’s stuck here until he can get a flight out, probably in a miserable hotel room bed that'll kill his back. Or, he’s going on a road trip with his ex to his ex’s house, who he just recently got back on texting and speaking terms with.
Unfortunately, Matt’s better at suffering emotional discomfort than physical.
[1:26pm]
that would be great. im at the airport if you could swing by
[1:30pm]
Yeah of course. GPS says 30 minutes, but I need to pack up and get ready. I'll text when I'm almost there. See you soon.
Matt is half vibrating as he waits outside the airport. He looks like any other person, hanging out while waiting for their ride. But he feels like this is different.
He and Adam haven’t been alone together, really alone, for any significant amount of time for years. Matt’s knee starts going a little nuts as he sits on the bench, so he stands up and gives in to the urge to pace around the small waiting area.
And then a familiar truck comes by. A few new dents, what looks like a new interior. But it’s the same truck.
“Hey, stranger, need a ride?” Adam leans down and grins at Matt, and, god, Matt had missed his dumb little jokes.
“Hey, Hanger,” Matt says, throwing the smile back at him. He chucks his hard side suitcase in the back of the truck with a grunt then brings his backpack and carryon into the cab.
Adam raises an eyebrow. “Where are you gonna sit?”
“They fit!”
“They – they don’t,” Adam says. “I mean, the backpack probably can, but the – the little rolly guy, you’re gonna have to chuck that in the truck bed, too.”
Matt wants to argue, wants to say that there is important stuff in here that really shouldn’t roll its way around the back of a truck when rain could hit at any moment. But then he remembers that Adam is doing him a huge favor, and he relents.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. He tosses the carryon over the edge into the bed. “You don’t have a lot of stuff.”
Adam shrugs. “Didn’t need a lot this time, since all I had to do was drive down yesterday morning.”
“You drove four hours yesterday?”
Adam nods as he puts the car into drive and pulls out expertly around the manic airport drivers, making his way to the main airport road with ease. “I like driving. Redid the truck cab to make it even more comfortable.”
“I noticed,” Matt says, before he thinks about it.
Adam glances over at him. “You did?”
Matt nods. “I mean, I spent a lot of time in this truck, right?”
Adam starts to blush, just a little bit, and Matt absolutely didn’t mean it like that. “Um. Right.”
They make their way out of the airport mess, and onto the highway.
“Thanks, again, for this,” Matt says.
Adam chuckles.
“What?!”
“Thanks again implies you said thank you the first time,” Adam says.
~
Matt’s never been this uncomfortable in his life. The drive started off awkward, yeah, but this is somehow worse. It’s been two hours since they left the airport, and everything they do or say has made the cab of the truck feel like it’s airtight and the oxygen is quickly depleting. Adam keeps making random half comments, things Matt can’t even begin to parse, but shuts up before any of it makes sense. Matt has pointed out five cows.
They’ve maybe exchanged six full sentences since getting on the highway, and that’s being generous.
Matt’s leg is bouncing like mad and he can’t control it, just pulls his fingers into fists and wishes he knew what to say to make this less awful.
“So you wanna talk about why you’re freaking out, or are you just gonna let your leg vibrate the cab of my truck into the stratosphere?”
Matt exhales. At least one of them said something. “I’m fine.”
“Sure,” Adam says, laughing a little bit. “Because that,” he nods down at the way Matt’s knee is still going, “suggests a very normal and put together person.”
Matt adjusts so he’s got his legs uncomfortably crossed, forcing his knee down. “I’m normal.”
“You are fucking not,” Adam says. “It’s fine, though. It’s why people like you.”
Matt glances over at him, Adam’s eyes are locked on the road. “Sure. I guess.” Before he can say anything else stupid, his phone rings.
“Hey, buddy!” Kenny says. “LA’s looking great. But…” He trails off, frowning. “I figure answering means you didn’t get a flight out, huh.”
Matt shakes his head. “Nope. Yours was the last flight toward the west to go out, actually.”
“Where are you?” Kenny asks. “You sound funny.”
Matt can’t help but flick his eyes over to Adam when he says, “Um. Adam’s letting me stay at his place for a couple of days, until the weather clears up.”
Kenny’s quiet for a moment. “Am I on speaker phone?”
Matt clicks it up and holds the phone up to his ear. “Not anymore.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Matt?” Kenny says, voice low. Matt hates being on this end of Kenny’s Dad voice.
“Everything’s fine, Kenny, he’s just helping me out.”
“This is a terrible idea,” Kenny says. “He’s going to hurt you again.”
“It’s fine, Kenny,” Matt says. His voice is tense. He can’t fix it. “I’ll text you when we get there or something. It’s fine.” He pauses. “And, uh. Don’t tell Nick.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Matt can pretty much hear Kenny roll his eyes. “Fuck it. Fine. Just don’t get yourself killed, you dumbass.” And he hangs up.
“Sorry about that,” Matt mumbles, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“Kenny seems,” Adam pauses, searching for words, “agitated.”
Matt shrugs. “He’s been weird the past few months about everything. It’s not you.”
They’re quiet for a while, and Matt wonders if Adam is desperately trying to come up with something to say just like Matt.
“I can drop you off at Kenny’s, if you want,” Adam says, hesitantly.
“No, it’s the opposite direction,” Matt says. “Literally. That’s not fair to you. Plus,” he squirms a little that he’s about to admit this, “I feel weird staying there without him. The walls make weird noises.”
Adam nods. “Yeah, I get that. The one time I visited there was this weird squeaking sound in the walls. Sounded like a mouse, but Dobby would have gone nuts over it.”
Matt processes that for a second. “You visited Kenny?”
Adam sits up a little straighter. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, right before All Out.”
“You visited Kenny during the pandemic?” Matt asks. He has no right to be mad. He doesn’t. They were well and broken up at that point, hadn’t spoken in a few days. “What the hell, Adam?!”
“It didn’t involve an airplane,” Adam says through gritted teeth, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “And it was your fault for refusing to come stay with me right before everything shut down, anyway.”
“My fault?!” Matt yells, and he glances at the clock. Here they go. “You had just pulled that weird stuff at Revolution – you were acting like you didn’t even know me!”
“You could have spoken to me once!”
Thus begins the worst two hours or so of Matt’s life in a long damned time, which he knows because he keeps checking the time. They go back and forth, shooting long-forgotten accusations and angry defenses at each other like blows in the ring. Matt almost wishes they’d been able to do this in the ring, where he could hear the smack of Adam’s open palm against his chest instead of the words, “You cared about your stupid YouTube channel more than me and you know it!”
“I went to California so that Nick wouldn’t be alone!”
“Which means you were okay with me being alone!”
He wishes he could hear the thud of his body against the mat when Adam would powerslam him instead of, “Don’t pretend you gave a shit in the trio’s match, Matt, you just wanted another belt.”
“I asked you to be my partner first. Before Kenny was even cleared!”
“Right, because I’ll believe that.”
“You should, because it’s the truth, you jerk.”
They’re yelling about something that happened way back in Ring of Honor, a miscommunication when they were first dating, when they take the turn off the highway toward the little country roads that are a little too familiar to Matt. He glances at the clock for the millionth time, then back out at the charming roadside stores. And then Adam interrupts him.
“Stop fucking timing our argument!” Adam yells. “Fuck, Matty, you still annoy me the same goddamn way!”
Matt shrinks. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“You keep looking at the center display every, like, two minutes,” Adam says, voice calmer than it’s been in a while. “Unless you’re super interested in my mileage, which I doubt, it’s the clock.” He sighs. “Just like you always used to.”
“I didn’t just time our fights,” Matt says, his voice quiet. “I time everything. You know that.” He chances a glance over at Adam, who, despite fighting it, is unable to fully hide his smile. Matt can find it in the corners of Adam’s eyes.
“Yeah, I know,” Adam says, voice low. “Two hours seven minutes.”
“And fifty-three seconds,” Matt adds.
They’re quiet for a few moments. But Matt is stupid, and he wants the last word, and he’s still not over this one thing. “I just think it’s a dick move that you straight up abandoned us.”
“Would you stop bringing that up!” Adam half yells. “Jesus, you guys made it pretty fuckin’ clear you didn’t want me around anymore. Kenny was acting like a dick and you and Nick kicked me out of the Elite. Hell, even before the pandemic you acted like you were sick of me!”
“I did not,” Matt says, suddenly even angrier. “You don’t – don’t you dare say that.”
Adam laughs, a little mean. “Yeah. Sure. I bet you were just waiting to break up with me. Had to find an excuse, right?”
“I bought a ring.”
Matt waits as Adam corrects his truck from crashing into a mailbox. “You what?!”
“A ring,” Matt says, and it’s hell to keep his voice steady. He doesn’t know why he’s saying it – to hurt Adam, to help Adam, to apologize. To prove that he was always so much more in it than Adam was. To show that he put in the effort Adam accused him of shirking. “Revolution 2020? Yeah, I was planning on proposing that night.” He ignores the catch in his voice. “It was the four of us putting on the match of a lifetime at Revolution, but it would be you and me forever.”
Adam is silent, and Matt looks over to see him staring dead ahead, lips pressed together in a firm line. “You bought a ring,” he finally says, voice shaky and wet. “For – for me?”
“Yes, for you, you dumb idiot,” Matt half shrieks. All composure gone, he continues. “And then you almost hit Kenny with a Buckshot, and you wouldn’t even talk to me and Nick after, and – and you proved it was always all about winning for you.” He angrily rubs at his eyes, refusing to let any tears into this conversation. “Proved that I was only there to help you get what you wanted. And that wasn’t me.”
Matt’s glad for the seat belt when Adam takes a rapid right turn into a surprisingly secluded little area without a word.
“Are you gonna kill me in the woods?” Matt asks, trying to hide his worry. “This feels very serial killer, Adam.”
“I am not,” Adam says, voice disturbingly calm as he pulls into a practically empty campsite, “going to kill you.”
“Oh, cool, leave me to die in the woods, of course.” Matt will admit it: he’s a bit hysterical. Adam parks and it’s…it’s not comforting. “Cool. Good to know you’re still willing to drop me and leave me to –”
Adam leans over and yanks Matt into a kiss that he feels down to his toes, half crawling into Matt’s lap, and makes this miserable, tearing noise from the back of his throat. Matt remembers to kiss back just in time for Adam to pull away. “You stupid, self-centered, bastard,” Adam says, voice ragged. He’s crying, trails of tears down his cheeks. “I only ever wanted you, you dumb fucking – god, I could kill you right now.”
“Not super comforting,” Matt mumbles.
“Just shut up for once in your fucking life!” Adam yells. It feels like it echoes around the cab of the truck, sinks into Matt’s skin. “Matt, Jesus fucking Christ, you stupid – I walked away because I couldn’t stand what I’d done to you!” He pounds the steering wheel with his fist, teeth gritted together. “And – and then, before All Out. When I thought I’d have to – when I thought we would…” He trails off and finally looks at Matt again, eyes red and wet and face shattered. “I couldn’t hurt you like that again,” Adam whispers. “I left the Elite to keep from hurting you more. I couldn’t let it happen again in the ring.”
They sit in it, for god knows how long. Matt’s pretty sure they’re, like, a few miles away from Adam’s home.
Eventually, Matt has to speak. “I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking. I didn’t – I thought you. I thought you stopped loving me.”
Adam laughs and closes his eyes, dropping his head back against the head rest. “How the fuck could anyone ever stop loving you?” He turns to Matt. “How could you think I’ve ever stopped?”
Matt lets out this weird little noise. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Adam says, turning his body to Matt. His hand is an inch away from Matt’s on the middle seat. “That the day you and Nick and Kenny came to have my back in the ring, I almost died. Because it was proof I might still matter to you.” He reaches up and cups Matt’s cheek. “That loving you for all this time made me worth another shot.”
Matt can’t fight it. He leans forward and catches Adam’s lips, climbing into Adam’s lap. He tries to tell Adam everything he hasn’t been able to say for almost three years, apologies, confessions, questions, anything he can think of. His hands cup Adam’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that make their ways down his faces.
His ass hits the steering wheel and the honk makes him jump.
“We, uh,” Adam says, eyes flicking to Matt’s lips, “we should get back to my – my house. We. We could.”
“God, please,” Matt says. He has to force himself off of Adam’s lap and onto the passenger seat. Adam doesn’t let go of his hand as he starts up the car and tears out of there like a bat out of hell. It’s only ten minutes before they pull into the long driveway in front of Adam’s house, familiar dirt and bumps that send something bizarrely nostalgic through Matt’s entire body.
Adam parks and turns to Matt. “I – I want –”
Matt nods rapidly, unbuckling and jumping out of the truck. Adam meets him around the front of the truck and they grab at each other on their ways to the door, Adam fumbling for the house keys and pressing Matt up against the door at the same time. The weight of him feels the same kind of thrilling, the same anticipation, as it always did before, and he almost falls backward before Adam catches him by the waist as the door pushes open.
“Bedroom,” Matt half pleads, “please.”
Adam laughs, turning them to shove Matt against the wall. “Yeah, Matty. I – yeah.”
Matt’s head spins as Adam gets two strong hands under his thighs and pulls his legs up.
“Just like old times,” Matt murmurs against Adam’s lips. He loops his legs around Adam’s waist and hooks them, and the balance is set so Adam can pull back from the wall and walk them down the hall to the bedroom. They don’t break away for more than a second on the way there, and it’s like they never stopped.
Adam half throws Matt on the bed and yanks his tee shirt off over his head.
“Aw,” Matt says, a little stupid already, “I wanted to do that.”
“Next time,” Adam laughs, and it sounds like a promise.
They kiss frantically for some time, hands roaming familiar planes of each other’s bodies, and Matt thinks he could melt into this moment and stay here for the rest of his life.
“I – I want you – I want you to –” Adam stumbles over his words, almost shaking.
“Slow down,” Matt says, and he reaches up to rest his hand on the side of Adam’s neck. “Hey, Adam. Breathe.”
Adam nods, still a little wild eyed, but he slows down and takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to mess it up again,” he says.
Matt sees the tears welling in his eyes. “Adam,” he says. “Hey. Adam. Nobody’s going to mess anything up this time.” He rolls them so he’s straddling Adam’s hips, hands pressing Adam’s shoulders to the mattress. “Adam,” he says again, because having the right to speak that name feels like a privilege, “I promise. We’re going to be okay.”
Adam sighs. “I don’t want this to be one time, Matty.” He settles his hands on Matt’s hips. “I can’t do this if it’s just pretend.”
Matt lets that settle over him. It’s a decent question – is this a spur of the moment? Or is this a road to what comes next? He thinks about it. He considers it.
And he speaks.
“Okay,” Matt says, smoothing his hands over Adam’s chest. “Yeah. I – don’t expect the ring, not yet, but.” He nods. “I want you to come back to me, Adam.”
Adam reaches up and yanks Matt down into another blazing kiss, his hands sliding up the back of Matt’s shirt, hesitating just a tiny bit. Matt leans back enough to let Adam pull the shirt up over his head.
“How do you look like this,” Adam murmurs, hands sliding up and down Matt’s back. The touch sends sparks through him, desperate for more.
“Weights, genetics, being God’s favorite,” Matt says. He grins at the way Adam rolls his eyes.
“Jesus, you never change.”
They fall into it, clothes strewn across the room in record speed, before Adam’s fingers skitter down Matt’s back to the top of his ass.
“Can I…?”
“Please,” Matt begs. “If you stop, I might die.”
Adam moves his fingers in a decision that makes Matt want to throw a shoe, but he reaches to the bedside table and pulls it open.
“Always so prepared,” Matt singsongs. His voice cuts off quickly, though, with the way Adam locks eyes with him. He drops lube on his fingertips.
“Lean forward, princess, so I can take care of you.”
 And there it is. That low voice from Adam, that focused control, that masterful understanding of Matt’s body and how to make it sing. His fingers work gentle magic, sliding into Matt and fitting like puzzles, and Matt can’t help but rock back against the touch. “More,” he whimpers, “too soft.”
“Patient, baby,” Adam says, leaning up to press kisses to the skin of Matt’s chest. “Be patient.”
Matt squirms, though, terrible with patience, and pushes down. “More,” he says, a little more demanding. “Come on!”
“Maybe I want to draw it out,” Adam says, fingers sliding at a pace almost excruciatingly slow, “maybe I’ve wanted this for so long that I won’t want to miss a second. Maybe,” he leans up, a little bite at Matt’s pec, “I want to make you wait.”
And, well. To Matt, that sounds like a challenge.
He rolls his hips down onto Adam’s fingers until there’s two, until there’s three, until he can feel Adam beneath his hips, rock hard.
“I’m ready, Adam, please,” Matt says. “I want you.”
“You have me,” Adam says, deadly serious as he looks into Matt’s eyes. “I promise.”
Adam slides his cock into Matt even better than his fingers, and Matt almost falls against him in relief. He never knew he could miss a feeling so much. “I missed this so much.” Matt’s almost crying with it as he rocks his hips, eyes fluttering shut as he angles better against Adam’s body.
“Me too,” Adam says. “God, you’re beautiful.”
They’re silent for some time, Matt doesn’t know, as they rock slowly, relishing the moment. They forgive each other over and over, with gentle touches and rocking hips, and with Adam’s hands resting gentle on Matt’s thighs. The weight steadies him, makes him feel whole.
He slowly opens his eyes to see Adam looking up at him with an ethereal little grin. He looks years younger, like he did when they first met on the indies.
“Adam,” Matt murmurs, “are you close?”
“Almost,” Adam says. “I – I could be.”
Matt stills immediately, and Adam stares at him.
“What?”
Matt grins. “Be patient, baby. Maybe I want to make you wait.”
Adam glares at him. “Oh, you’re a dick.”
Matt shrugs. “And?”
Adam laughs and Matt moves, bringing him closer and closer to release before freezing his motions until Adam relaxes again. Adam starts begging, pleading, singing Matt’s name beautifully.
Tears have gathered in the corners of Adam’s eyes again, for very different reasons, as he pleads again. “Please, Matt,” he gasps, “I need – I have to. Please.”
“Okay,” Matt says, on the edge himself. “I – you can come, baby, it’s time.”
“Oh, thank god.”
Adam gets an arm around Matt’s lower back and flips them, driving into Matt with single minded fury. Matt comes almost immediately untouched, the tension and the build crashing through him so hard he cries out Adam’s name and digs his nails into Adam’s back. Adam comes soon after with a hoarse sob, his face turned into Matt’s leg, and shoves himself into Matt one final time as the two of them calm down, bodies going more and more limp as the seconds pass.
“So, I know this is a weird thing to ask,” Matt asks, running his fingers through Adam’s hair, “but our stuff is safe in your truck, right?”
Adam laughs then pushes himself up so he can look at Matt. “Yes, it’s fine. My nearest neighbor is, like, two miles away. There’s no one out here.”
“So you can’t be sure there’s nobody living in your barn, waiting for you to come home so they can steal your food.” Matt pushes himself to sitting so he can kiss Adam before he steps out of the bed. “That’s a bit naïve, isn’t it?”
Adam shrugs and stands, stretching his arms out. It’s a good sight. Matt intentionally doesn’t look away.
“Come on,” Adam says, reaching out an arm. “Let’s take a shower. I remodeled it back in 2020. I think you’ll like it.”
Matt blinks. “Did you finally add the jacuzzi?”
Adam nods. “You were right. Changes everything.”
They wrap themselves around each other as they wash each other’s hair, as they clean themselves up, and Matt is unable to keep himself from the question. “When exactly did you do this?”
Adam doesn’t meet his eyes. “Finished it that May. I started it back when you refused to quarantine with me, when you were mad.” He fidgets a little. “I thought it would convince you to come back.”
Matt curls into himself. “Oh.”
They’re quiet as they dry off. Matt wraps himself in one of Adam’s giant towels and half fidgets while Adam gets changed. “Could you, um. Would you be able to bring my stuff into the car?”
“Yeah, course,” Adam says. “I know your thing about putting dirty clothes back on. Planning on getting your bag once I’m dressed.” He gives Matt a shy little smile and leans in, kissing Matt’s cheek as he does his belt. “I’ll be right back, baby.”
Matt sits down on the bed, cozy in his towel, as he watches Adam walk away.
And he thinks, maybe, the ring that’s still in his top drawer at home could soon find a home on Adam’s finger. Maybe, this time, he’ll be able to ask. And maybe Adam will say yes.
~
Mini Playlist: Heart Upon My Sleeve - Avicii feat. Imagine Dragons What I Need - Hayley Kioko Cowboy Take Me Away - The Chicks Back Together - Loote
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sxugaryx · 3 months
Text
Requiem Bell (Fanfic)
New chapter from my main series 🩷
Geppetto got off from work and made his way towards the cemetery and bought flowers along the way, leaving them on the tomb.
He wanted to be alone this time, Pinocchio will probably have to see him crying as soon as he opens the door of their home but that doesn’t matter, he wants to get sentimental, he wants to remember his family.
He is remembering his wife and all the good moments he had with her, she would have loved Pinocchio, she would have been a great mother to him but Geppetto is happy that Pinocchio does have a mother, that Antonia is his mother, he couldn’t ask for a better person to fulfill that role for him.
Ever since they cleaned the house, he has been thinking a lot about the past specifically about Carlo and Romeo. Geppetto knows that being stuck in the past is what made him go mad but he wants to look back at it, this time not with the delusional idea that he could change it, but with the idea of looking at it fondly, that they are no longer here but that they will never be forgotten.
Geppetto is remembering something specific, he is remembering something that happened just before Carlo got sick.
——
“Father”
Carlo is in front of him and Romeo is next to his son, they came to visit unannounced but that doesn’t matter, Geppetto welcomes the company of his son, wanting to fix their relationship as his top priority.
“Yes, son?” Geppetto can tell that Carlo is acting a little off.
“I know this is stupid…” Carlo looks away for a moment but regains his composure, “I want to ask for a favor”
Carlo takes a deep breath, “And I know I haven’t seen you in 3 weeks and I come here and ask for a favor but please this is important” Not to mention that the last time they spoke it almost ended in an argument.
“Carlo I’m your father I would do anything for you”
“It’s just that it’s a big favor” Carlo is embarrassed to ask for something like this.
“Anything you want, I’ll do it”
Carlo takes another deep breath.
“Me and Romeo want to, um,” Carlo is stumbling over his words.
“Get married” Romeo speaks on his behalf.
Romeo who is wearing that necklace, that one he gave Carlo for his graduation. A part of Geppetto feels bad that his son gave it to him, as it was supposed to be special, but he has no one to blame but himself, he was selfish for not attending his graduation.
Geppetto smiles, “Oh don’t worry, I can manage to find a way to arrange that”
“Well we don’t want to do it in a church, it would be weird and even if I don’t care what people think, people will talk badly and I don’t want that to affect you” Carlo clenches his fist, he is marring Romeo who is a man and also a puppet, “I know I already ruined your reputation enough but-“
“Carlo please don’t say things like that” Geppetto knows that he is referring to how Carlo has behaved, that he is seen as a troublemaker, and that people talk about this behind their backs.
“I don’t care what others think, you will always be my priority” Geppetto gets closer and plays with his son’s hair, “Besides you are a good boy Carlo, my good little boy”
“Father!” Carlo gets embarrassed again, he is 20 years old, not a child. “Don’t say that you dumb old man”
Geppetto laughs, it’s good to talk to him, he missed him.
“Okay but still, we don’t want to get married in a church, we want to get married somewhere else”
“Where do you want to get married?”
——
It was a hard favor indeed, but there is nothing Geppetto wouldn’t do for Carlo, he had to call a lot of people and give a few “donations” but he managed to do it, to rent The Opera House just for themselves for a few hours.
The three of them were there, so was Antonia with Poledina, Venigni with Pulcinella, and of course Sophia was there as well.
The reason they wanted it to be at the Opera House was because this wasn’t going to be a traditional wedding, Carlo and Romeo had planned a play for them to perform.
Well, Romeo planned most of it, he is the one who is passionate about theater. Everyone was helping with the arrangements, hearing Carlo and Romeo talking with each other.
“Ugh Romeo I can’t remember these stupid vows right, why did you make them so hard?”
“You are the one that wanted unique vows, and they fit with the play”
“And you are the theater kid who wanted to have the wedding here in the first place”
“Carlo you agreed to this and don’t tell me you would have preferred the cathedral with holier than thou Andreus”
“Oh God no, not him and his weird sermons about the one-winged angel”
“You are going to hell for saying that love” Romeo was teasing him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Carlo punched Romeo lightly in his shoulder, “Idiot” After that he kissed him as well.
“Why do the two of you need these?” Geppetto pointed a the two weapons, one a sword and another a scythe.
“It’s part of the play, we are fighting,” Carlo said nonchalantly.
“What?!” Geppetto was mortified.
“Relax old man, it’s not like we are in real danger, it’s a play”
Geppetto didn’t look too convinced about that idea.
“It's okay,” Romeo said while grabbing Carlo’s shoulder, “I won’t let anything happen to his pretty face”
“Romeo!” Carlo punched him lightly again.
“Love you are going to break your hand hitting me like that, you know how sturdy your father made me”
Geppetto made Romeo with only the best materials, he remembers two years ago when Carlo was 18 he built Romeo a new body, this body was even more durable than the last and came equipped with better ways for fighting capabilities. Carlo and Romeo had given him a few notes on what they wanted Romeo to be able to do, they were going to be the best stalkers in the world after all.
Romeo winked at Carlo, “But you already know how sturdy I am right?”
Carlo was the one who was mortified now.
“Don’t say that shit in front of my father!”
“Carlo language” Geppetto was scolding him.
“Ugh, I’m NOT a child” Carlo sighed but then he laughed, at least he wasn’t nervous anymore.
After a few more adjustments to the stage, it was all ready to go, and with the help of a few puppets working backstage for the props and the lights, everyone was perfect to go.
Once upon a time, two star-crossed lovers lived in peace, not knowing that their love was never meant to be. For daring to love each other, fate decided to play a cruel prank on them, to both die a gruesome fate and be reborn as enemies.
“I have to kill you to stop it all, there's no other way!” Romeo grabbed his scythe and pointed it at Carlo, a red light was set on him, and with tricks of the light that reflected the stage, it looked like it was engulfed in flames.
Carlo drew his sword, no words were exchanged on his behalf, his dedication to fighting spoke for him, his quest to end the life of the one in front of him, to do was fate had asked of him.
“It's all going up in flames... bright, white flames” Romeo’s sorrow-filled voice echoed through the walls of the place.
A fierce battle took place inside a grand church; piercing attacks coming from all directions from both of them; slashing, striking, blocking, and parrying. The fight was coordinated, like looking at a mirror, yet it was elegant, almost as if the two of them were dancing under the veil of the lights that illuminated the stage.
After barely blocking an attack, Romeo took a few steps back, his guard was lowered and Carlo pointed his sword at Romeo’s neck.
“I must do, what I was asked to do” Carlo’s voice was filled with regret.
“Then tell me…” Romeo stared directly into his eyes, “Who's the puppet of fate, you or me?
Carlo lowered his sword and then dropped it into the ground, he shed a few tears, “I don’t want it to be this way”
“It doesn’t have to be this way” Romeo dropped his weapon as well, “It's gonna be okay, as long as I'm at your side, Carlo”
Both of them embraced each other, the lights changing from dark red to bright blue.
The two lovers, now not bound the the fate of the stars, decided to marry right there and then, sharing their vows.
Carlo lifted his hand “With this hand I will lift your sorrows” Then he grabbed a cup “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine”
Romeo repeated the same words and continued, grabbing a candle and lighting it, “With this candle, I will light your way into darkness”
As Carlo grabbed his candle and lit it as well and repeated the vows Romeo had said.
Both grabbed their respective rings, both grabbing each other’s hands, speaking together as one.
“With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”
They kissed each other, a passionate kiss filled with love, the ringing of church bells resonating across the Opera House.
Before they left, a small stop was made, at the statue in front of the Opera House.
Geppetto looked at the statue, the words he had engraved long ago "In honor of the happiest days of our family because of her presence. I still miss you, Camille”
Carlo left the bouquet of flowers in there, instead of throwing them into the air, as most weddings do, “I wish, she could have been here” Carlo shed a few tears.
“Me too” Geppetto wiped away Carlo's tears, “Hopefully we can see her again someday”
A few days later, Carlo wasn’t feeling well and one visit to the doctor confirmed their worst fears, he had been inflicted with the petrifaction disease.
Geppetto wasn’t the only one that was there by Carlo’s side, Romeo never left his side either.
In the end, Geppetto is happy that they managed to get married before they passed, the two of them are now gone, but he knows that in death, they are together.
Geppetto looked at the sky, it was getting late and he needed to head back home.
When he arrived home, Pinocchio was reading a book, he greeted him and they talked together before going to bed, Geppetto promising his son that they would do something fun together in a few days.
—-
“Am I overcompensating?” Geppetto asked Antonia; Pinocchio had spent time with her that day, and he pulled her aside for a moment.
“I don’t think so, you are mending your mistakes” Antonia smiled, “And considering how you have grounded him, I doubt it”
In Antonia’s eyes, Geppetto would be overcompensating if he didn’t let Pinocchio do anything on his own and suffocate him by being 24/7 with him and not scolding him when it’s necessary.
“Not all parents are perfect, even I have made my mistakes with the boy” Antonia knows deep down that constantly spoiling him isn’t good, and after Geppetto talked with her, she has stopped a little, but sometimes she can’t help herself.
And she has come to learn that it’s true, that Pinocchio does in fact not act like a brat in front of her, she eventually did learn that Pinocchio said her age out loud so that she would get mad at Geppetto.
”You have come a long way Geppetto and each day you improve even more” Antonia was smiling, but not for long, her demeanor changed to a more serious one.
“But I am worried about you, I can see that you are too afraid to lose him, it’s clear how much this affects you and no one can blame you” Antonia put her hand closer to him, trying to make him feel more secure.
“I think you are traumatized”
Geppetto looked away for a moment but he looked back at Antonia, this might be hard for him to hear, how but he had to hear it and Antonia is a good friend, she always knows what to say in these situations.
“Let's be honest, Carlo dying and you building an exact copy of him as a puppet, that's not something a sane person would do, even more so considering you were trying to bring him back” Now that she says it out loud it sounds even more like unstable behavior, she did notice that Geppetto was acting off during that time but he looked so calm about the entire situation, too calm and he would mainly stay upstairs and barely spoke with anyone that wasn't Pinocchio. Antonia looks back at how it took Geppetto too long to realize that Pinocchio was his own individual, that he was never Carlo.
Geppetto can’t argue against that, Carlo died and that was the worst period of his life, he was so desperate to bring him back that he was willing to hurt others, Romeo’s death was his fault.
He has gaps in his memory about what happened and he has nightmares, somedays he starts shaking and it doesn’t stop until hours later.
Lately, he feels as if he has been feeling worse, he knows that it’s because he almost lost Pinocchio, and he is been trying to put up a strong front for his son, but ever since Dorian Gray almost murdered Pinocchio he feels as if his mental state has gone downhill. He thought he was fine when he came back from London, but the more time passes the more stressed he gets about it, more so because Pinocchio was recently in danger when he saved Cinderella. Not to mention all the bad things that happen in Krat in general.
Sometimes he just wants to hug Pinocchio and never let him go. He already lost Carlo, he can’t lose him, he doesn’t want to know what he would do without him.
“Oh and mind you, just because you are struggling that doesn’t mean that you aren’t competent to do your job anymore” Antonia knows about the office drama Geppetto and Venigni have to deal with, she wants to reassure him that he is still the same, even more so with how dedicated Geppetto is to his work life.
“As always, if you need my help, if you need a shoulder to cry on, I will be there, but Geppetto there is only so much I can do, maybe it’s time you seek help”
“I haven't even seen a regular doctor ever since… since Carlo died” Geppetto knows that he is afraid of even the most simple of medical things, it was unbearable to see when Carlo was sick, the treatments his son had to go through, they were too invasive, too hard on his poor son but no one knew how to truly cure the illness, so they did what they could, but sometimes Geppetto wonders what those doctors were even thinking.
He was there with all of those treatments, it was hard to see him like that, but he had to be strong for his son, but ever since he avoids doctors like the plague.
“I see, but unfortunately this is what's best, and avoiding doctors, in general, is bad, you have to be too have to tend to your health, specially at our age” Antonia is an older woman, things get harder with age and while doing well, she has had some issues come up due to the fact she was also ill with the petrification disease.
In some way, she was lucky that she got sick when she did, she didn't have to be subjected to quarantine, being seen as a lost cause, and abandoned or subjected to those treatments and her son managed to find a cure for her and all those other people in need as well.
“I understand” Geppetto knows that Antonia is right.
“And Pinocchio could also benefit from that” It hurts Antonia to know how much Pinocchio has suffered, it was painful to see him have that breakdown at the party she held a while ago.
“That’s going to be a little hard”
Pinocchio doesn’t have the best exposure when it comes to things related to mental health, first, the horror tales that come out of how Hotel Krat was a Mental Institution and what he had heard from Alice of what she experienced.
“But I’m sure I’ll find a way to explain how this would be good for him without scaring him”
“I can explain if you want”
“No Antonia, I want to do this”
“Just saying because you know…” Antonia smiled again, “Sometimes you are bad at explaining”
Geppetto became embarrassed.
“That’s different” He mumbled under his breath.
Antonia laughed and Geppetto even if he was embarrassed at least he didn’t feel tense anymore.
He will have a talk with him soon, but for now, they going back home and tomorrow they can spend time together as father and son.
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Text
whoops wrote some stuff for “c!benchtrio in a sleepy 80s town where every myth is real and no one is normal” au. yes the cabinet is polybius. of course it is.
TW: period typical ableism, references to period typical homophobia, mind control, referenced kidnapping.
tommy loved saturday.
one, it meant he was off school. school was a fucking hell system designed to tear out the individuality of kids and turn them into little worker drones- at least, that was what wil reckoned, and wil was probably the smartest person in town by account of haunting the shit out of everyone over the past few centuries, so tommy believed him. besides, he struggled to sit still for long enough to write, and tubbo couldn’t read the words, so they spent most of their time staring at each other in detention anyway.
but that wasn’t the main reason. the two of them skived off school half the time, though in their defence it’s kind of hard to go when you’ve got seven government conspiracies, three independent mad scientists, several different types of aliens, at least one fae court, and whatever the fuck sam was on your tail 24/7. honestly, being kidnapped by half of them was probably better than an english lesson where the teachers shouted at him for writing in the proper british way he was taught instead of suddenly switching to the dumb american shitty way. his organs might have been rearranged last time he'd gotten abducted by a flying saucer, but at least that meant he looked cool on x-rays.
no, the real reason saturday was great was that saturday was arcade day.
if tommy wasn’t religious, he'd call the local arcade his church, but that felt disrespectful to Her Lady Prime (though, considering the amount of gods he'd met in sleepy l'manberg he was convinced that there was probably enough gods in oregon every video arcade had one). still, he approached the day phil would drop off him and tubbo at the doors for a whole day with reverence, and as the man who was not his father (he actually wanted him) dropped them off, he handed them enough coins for an extra with a wink.
that was another reason tommy loved saturday. school didn’t really accept local cryptids, unfortunately, but with a mask, hat, and a long enough skirt, ranboo could blend in as a weirdo teenager instead of a local nightmare. besides, he liked the flashing lights.
ranboo was in first, as always, and rushed tommy and tubbo into a big, big hug the second they entered the doors. he knew when phil dropped them off, and had started waiting to ambush them.
“ugh, gross, man,” tommy said, not sounding annoyed at all. “we're twelve now. too old for little kid cuddles.”
“why?” ranboo’s voice had a vibration to it like an insect. it made tommy feel comforted.
“because you get beat up if you're weird, y’know!” tommy flushed. “i don’t wanna get beat up, fucker.”
tubbo raised an eyebrow. “tommy, have you met a normal person in this town?”
“well, no-“
“there. look, are we going to play some pac-man or not?”
“ugh, no!” tommy said, giggling as he pushed the other boys away. “pac-man is so uncool. now, frogger? that, man, is truly radical.”
ranboo blinked. “what’s a radical?”
“it’s just one of tommy's weird big kid terms, boo.” tubbo said, ribbing ranboo and grinning at the disgusted face tommy made. tommy didn’t have any issues with, y’know, those sort of people. people who got mad at boys kissing boys were stupid. the issue was that tubbo was far too young to be flirting with anyone. that stuff was gross. “he just wants to be cool, y’know. that’s why he’s got that stupid mullet.”
“mullets are so cool, fuck you,” tommy said, sticking out his tongue in a not at all childish way. “anyway, now are you two gonna go all K-I-S-S-I-N-G, or will you- oh my Prime, what the fuck is that?”
every machine in the building was empty of players. all except one, a blank looking cabinet, which had a line that looked a million billion miles long.
ranboo raised an eyebrow. “good game, i guess?”
“no game is that good. not even frogger.” tommy shook his head. “that’s like… remember when that fucking weird government dude had all those pills and shit? that made you all fuzzy and do what they say?”
tubbo gasped. “you can’t say that, tom! you know he has memory issues. stop being a dick.”
“fine! sorry.” tommy threw his hands up in frustration. “but anyway, you see that blank fucking stare on their face? well, most of there’s, purpled seems fine but he's got the whole being not human thing going. that’s the look ranboo had when that dream fucker gave him the pills. that’s mind control, innit?”
“don’t remind me of dream,” ranboo said, growling.
“oh, yeah. sorry man.”
“anyway… do you think that might be involved? if it’s to do with governments… i'd rather not get cut up by a lab, thank you. we need to stop it.”
“chill out, ranboo, being cut up isn’t even that bad if they give you proper painkillers and shit,” tommy said, ignoring the weird stares ranboo gave him because of that. “besides, y’know i'll never say no to uncovering some secret truth. it’s almost as fun as frogger. tubbo?” tommy paused, turning to his other best friend. “uh, tubbo?”
there was a far away, dreamy look in tubbo’s eyes. not those of brainwashing, but desire. “i want to take that thing apart,” tubbo said, sounding overjoyed. “i need it. i need that beauty so bad.”
well. it was better than the barrels of radioactive material he'd seen tubbo carry into the shed. tommy couldn’t deny that. “then, let’s go figure shit out, then.”
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dcwnthercbbithcle · 7 months
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💖 for Little Lao!
@hatxtoss
💖 AND I'LL GIVE OUR CHARACTERS A RELATIONSHIP SUMMARY FROM THIS MEME || ACCEPTING
How likely they are to enter a relationship with them:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Would they…
Make the first move? Yes | No-ish Lao is a unique circumstance where the two are on such a similar page that he will beat Zuriya to the punch by little more than a couple of minutes. Which her competitive side will huff over for a moment, but his arrogant satisfaction and that joy in his eyes is more than enough to make any frustration dissipate on the spot. Say “I love you” first? Yes | No Zuriya said 'I love you' first twice. The first time, it was bittersweet and rang a bit hollow because as much as her feelings were legitimate, they weren't on the same page. Lao felt like a novelty to her, and Zuriya was guilty of fuelling these self-deprecating feelings because she WAS loving him like a novelty. She was only scratching the surface because she, thanks to her trauma, feared connecting with him deeply because of the chance he'd leave her once he learned what she was actually like. After that first 'I love you' though and all the growing pains of moving past her demons that hamper genuine love, she told him again, but these times, the words rang like a sharp hook to the gut, and it destroyed them both in the best kind of ways. Cheat on them? Yes | NO Zuriya is a party gal, but once her heart, damaged as it is, sets itself on someone she loves for life! She would never turn to another, not for love or physical affection, and she wouldn't be afraid to exercise her voice both to scream at a creep to back off or to proclaim her love and lust for her lovers. Be the jealous type? Yes | No SHE IS SO CONFIDENT OH MY GOD, Lao may be a catch and a half with an arrogant charm she knows will have most swooning. But she is confident in herself, her value, and more importantly, his character. She knows and trusts Lao. He'll lead on a flirt or two for fun, but his heart and soul is true to her beyond the fun and games. The passing comments are great for the ego but she knows after he's had his fun, he'll turn them down and come back over to her with that 'did you see that?' grin on his face, brush it off and they can both laugh about it into the sunset. Plan the dates? Yes-ish | No Zuri will drag Lao to fun and lively places that draws her naturally extroverted spirit, but complex planning? Not at all! Making reservations may actually kill her, and Lao is more than happy to pick up her slack and make those phone calls for organized fun! Initiate the first kiss? Yes | No Zuri's ass stared at Lao wantingly for so, so long, but her heart was too worried about all the rumours she'd had about Earthrealmers and overstepping her love's boundaries. She heard tales about monks not even being allowed to touch other people, as in handshakes, from members of the court. Let alone the conflicting tales from her stories. She doesn't want to hurt him or drive him away. She likes him FAR too much for that! She doesn't know how to pose the question without seeming ridiculous (because she is being silly). But meanwhile, as she's stuck in overthinking. Lao is just taking her by the cheeks and giving her a big smooch. Leaving her with massive stars in her eyes! Remember anniversaries? Yes | No THESE ASSHOLES ARE THE FUCKING PEOPLE THAT ALWAYS POST THOSE ANNIVERSARY POSTS WITH GIFTS AND OFTEN MATCHING OUTFITS
BOLD WHAT APPLIES:
Their Relationship Is:
friends to lovers | rivals to lovers | enemies to lovers | still just enemies | mutual pining | star crossed lovers | old married couple | perpetual honeymoon phase (after the initial misunderstanding and settling in) | stable and boring | stable but not boring | secret lovers | best friends hiding their feelings | and they were roommates | friends with benefits | coworkers avoiding HR | one-sided affection | weird sexual tension | it’s complicated | toxic relationship | a secret affair | an actual dumpster fire | other
Lao PSPSPSPSP'd Zuri from team Outworld and being extremely morally ambiguous into team Earthrealm with the lads. I cannot for the life of me think about better words to use to describe this, but he looked at the hot giantess sorceress and said, 'I can fix her' AND HE FRIGGIN COULD!!! Now, if only she could help him with his humbleness problem!
PUBLIC Displays of Affection:
hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection
PRIVATE Displays of Affection:
hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection
And even more NGL, Zuri keeps the sappiness toned down in public because Lao will get teased about it, but put her in private, and she'll be sappier than a hallmark feel-good special!!
Do they stay together?
yes, this is endgame | yes but someone is gonna die tragically | something is keeping them apart | they part ways as friends | they part ways as enemies | they’re on-again-off-again | they have a super messy breakup | it was just a fling | other
Zuri will end up outliving her Lao by thousands and thousands of years, but she couldn't stomach the idea of that. Of watching him wither and die in front of her, years chipping away at his light. She would beg him to let her use some magic or sorcery to prolong his life and stay with her forever. It would lead to a lot of fighting, a LOT. Sadly, it was just one of those things they could never really get over. In the end, rather than being able to bring herself to watch him fade away while she remained helpless. She left but would ultimately return to be with him in his last years, for his sake, even though it destroys her heart in the process because she'd never stop loving him. Per his wishes, she would not take his soul into her gem after he passes; she'd let him return to the Earthrealm Jinsei, and she'd return to Outworld and likely the temple. For additional heartwrenching facts: Zuri gets her heart and hopes up every time she hears that another descendant of the great Kung Lao has emerged and taken the mantle of the last. Every time she hopes that somehow his soul has reincarnated and she'll find his light again, but it doesn't happen. They're all different, even in minor ways, and she'll leave again. She wants no imitation; she misses him. (which also, like, rip any Kung Lao descendent that comes to her in hopes of getting her approval of 'oh yeah, they're just as good' because her hurt and heartache would make her so bitter. like how dare you stand where he stood, you aren't even his shadow. WHICH OUCH, Lao would be so disappointed in you Zuri, but also strangely aroused and left warm and fuzzy from your devotion to him)
BONUS
What terrible pet names would they give each other?
OH GOD, this gal, she has so many for Lao it isn't funny. The first would be ruby, such a bright, flaming, regal, attention-grabbing stone. It's just like him, capturing her eye and attention. But then he's her little bee, so silly and funny, always buzzing around. But at the same time he's also her love, her heart. Her lion, so strong and brave. And--
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