#TOOK ME STRAIGHT BACK TO 2003 I WAS FREAKING OUT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

official-weasley · 3 years

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The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Alternative Ending

Warnings: Absolutely nothing except Charlie being one happy bean ❤️

Charlie

The spells making sounds around me finally snapped me back to reality. My back was aching but I knew I have to get up and fight. I won't give up that easily! Before I could think twice about it, I was already duelling another Death Eater. It felt good immobilizing him and the adrenaline of fighting slowly came back to me when I heard a voice calling me.

“Charlie.”

I turned around but nobody was there. I shook my head. Perhaps I was still a bit shaken from talking to Nova wherever we were together just moments ago.

“Charlie.”

There it was again. I pressed myself against a nearby wall, trying to empty my head. Was I hearing voices now?

“Charlie.”

The voice was getting louder and it seemed it was coming from inside my head.

“Charlie.”

I opened my eyes and sat up so abruptly that everything went dark for a moment. What is going on? I slowly scanned the room I was in.

I wasn't at Hogwarts, I was in a bed. My bed. I rubbed my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. This is my bedroom.

I heard someone walking up the stairs. I looked down at my body. I was shirtless and my back wasn't aching. Was I dreaming? I couldn't be. It felt so real.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” I turned my head to the door and saw Nova leaning against the doorway. I was in awe at how beautiful she was. She was wearing a burgundy jumper with a golden letter on it. It was my jump... Wait a minute. It didn't have a golden C on it. It had a golden N on it.

I pressed my fingers against my eyes. I have never been more confused. I looked in her direction again. She was still there. Along with her jumper, her favorite khaki-colored jeans, and barefoot.

“I was about to send our little army to wake you.” She giggled. “Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah.” I said with a rusty voice. I was still a bit disoriented and apparently, it showed on my face because Nova's pretty smile turned into a worried expression.

She slowly made her way across the bedroom and sat down on my side of the bed.

“Is this real?” I asked.

“It happened again.” She whispered as if she was reading my mind.

It was strange. I knew exactly what she was referring to, but I couldn't shake the dream away.

“Yes.” I nodded. “But it...it was different this time, Nova.” I shook my head trying to get the images out of my mind.

“How so?” She asked gently, placing her hand on mine, sending shivers down my spine.

“It wasn't Fred or Tonks. It was...you.” I looked into her beautiful blue eyes and I have never wanted to kiss her more, so I did.

She let out a sound of surprise before kissing me back, placing her arms around my neck.

It was all coming back to me now. I had frequent nightmares about the battle that took place at Hogwarts. I kept seeing Fred and Tonks die. It has been happening for years, but I didn't have a vivid dream like this in a very long time.

“What was the dream about this time?” Nova pulled away and cupped my face, locking her eyes on mine.

“I dreamt about that night in the Sanctuary, when we were attacked. But it was different. You only cast the Protection spell on me and not both of us.” I shook my head, my mind creating images of her getting burnt again.

“Then I lived my entire life without you up until the battle. We had a funeral for you and I was alone at Bill's wedding. You weren't Fleur's bridesmaid and I told my mum I was going to spend the rest of my life alone.”

She climbed into my arms, pulling me into a hug. I buried my fingers into her hair and breathed into her shoulder. She smelled like pancakes.

“And then I was fighting at Hogwarts and you were never there to save me from that blast in the back and I fell unconscious and everything turned white and you were there. We were by the Lake and we both cried missing each other and when I got back I was ready to fight again but I kept hearing a voice calling my name and then...I woke up.” I gently pushed her away. I needed to see her eyes again, they always calmed me down.

“You have to see that doctor George was going to.” The concern in her voice matched the one on her face.

“I'm fine.” I said unconvincingly. After so many years of being together, I still didn't learn that she can see straight through my lies.

“Don't give me that, Charles. There is nothing wrong with needing help. We're all messed up about everything that went down that year.” She frowned.

“Okay, I'll write to George tomorrow. I promise.” I bestowed her with a weak smile and kissed her again.

“I'll ask you just in case.” She crossed her legs on the bed in front of me.

“No need to do that, love.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Yes, I do, Char. You looked at me, me standing in the doorway, as if I was a ghost. This dream obviously messed with your perception of reality so we are doing this, whether you like it or not.”

She tapped her finger on my nose, making me grin. She asked me a series of questions to make me remember things and make me forget about my nightmares every time I woke up disoriented.

“Okay, I'm ready.” I cleared my throat.

“What year is it?” She started.

“2007.” I replied after thinking about it for a second.

“Where do we live?”

“In Romania. Two kilometers away from the Sanctuary in a small wizarding village. We deemed it perfect for raising our children and it's great because it's close enough that we can both walk to work since neither of us is fond of apparition.”

“Describe our wedding and when and where did we get married?” Nova asked her next question.

“We got married on 7th August 1995 at the Sanctuary. It was a small ceremony as we wanted. Our friends from the Sanctuary, my family, your mum and aunt, your dad's closest friends from Egypt, our friends from school. You couldn't decide which of the girls is going to be your maid of honor so they all were. Ginny was our flower girl and Bill was my best man and he gave you away. We both cried exchanging our vows, so did our mums and Bill shed a tear even though he will never admit it.” Nova laughed. “We ended up having a party in our house and it all ended with Fred and George's beautiful fireworks.”

It was the most beautiful day of my life. We loved how everything turned out. It was small and everybody had so much fun and Bill and my dad got drunk and we laughed at them singing songs. We couldn't have planned it better.

“Full names of our children and when they were born.” She said with a smile on her face. This was her favorite question. “Aoede Io. She was born on 2nd February 1996. My mum freaked out when she found out you got pregnant before we got married.” I giggled.

“That one time we didn't use the Protection spell.” She joined me.

“I'm happy we forgot.” I pressed my forehead to hers and she couldn't stop a smile spreading across her face at my words.

“Then we had Luna Dora and she was born on 1st October 1999 and our beautiful boy Roger William was born on 30th July 2003. We were all hoping he would share his birthday with Harry but he came a day earlier.” We both chuckled.

“What day is it?” Nova's last question interrupted my reminiscing.

“It's 1st September.” I said proudly, feeling like myself again.

“Do you still think this isn't real?” Nova asked softly.

“It is but I am living my dream.” I kissed her again. I can't believe I have everything I ever wanted.

“As you should. You deserve it.” She kissed me so hard that I got dizzy for a second.

“Wait, 1st September, we're supposed to take Aoede...”

“I know. That's why I came to wake you.” Nova giggled. “You get dressed and then come down for breakfast.”

She leaned to kiss my forehead but a sound of glass breaking made us both look towards the door.

“Bloody hell.” I heard Luna say.

“Luna, mum's going to kill you!” Aoede sighed.

“For cussing or for breaking the glass?” Luna sounded worried.

“Both!”

“Dora needs to stop hanging out with uncle Ron so much.” Nova playfully shook her head. Our Luna loved Ron the most and she loved to copy everything he said, including his cursing words.

“I better go down before someone gets hurt.” She stood up and walked to the door. “You going to be okay?”

“I will. I promise.” I smiled reassuringly. I felt better talking to her and answering her questions. I always did.

“Oh, and I almost forgot. Bill dropped by earlier, leaving Victoire here. Luna made an entire plan inviting her for ice cream when we drop Aoede at King's Cross and then she's sleeping over. She sent her a letter with Aoede's new owl and everything.” Nova laughed and went downstairs.

I got up, the biggest smile on my face. This really was real. I have to write to George. I have to get rid of these nightmares. My life was so great, I can't have these dark thoughts about losing Nova anymore. It was enough that I lost my brother, Tonks, and Remus.

I got dressed and slowly made my way downstairs. I loved our little house. We were looking for something similar to our cottage at the Sanctuary and were so happy when we found a perfect little house on the outskirts of a village near the Sanctuary. We fell in love with it immediately. We both saw us raising our children here and it's so cozy and homey and we couldn't have asked for more.

What I loved, even more, was the scene in front of me when I got to the lower floor. A ladle was pouring a pancake into the pan. Nova was leaning on the counter giving Aoede advice on the drawing she was making. I still can't believe how similar they are. Not only did Aoede get Nova's talent for drawing but she looked like her as well. She had long, wavy, dark red hair and Nova's blue eyes.

“Good morning, dad.” Aoede mumbled and Luna followed her lead.

Nova looked up and winked at me, before picking up a pencil and making a correction to Aoede's drawing.

I looked to the sofa where Dora was sitting with Victoire, braiding her hair and them both giggling as usual. Luna Dora was a perfect mixture of us both. She had blue hair and my eyes. Her nose was sprinkled with my freckles and she got the mischief gene from the twins.

I was standing still, watching the two best friends giggle. Dora adored her uncles Bill and George the most. Sometimes she is more at Bill and Fleur's than she is at home because she and Victoire are inseparable.

“Good morning, uncle Charlie.” Victoire turned her head to me and waved.

“Morning, Vicky.” I smiled.

Before I could say another word my four-year-old son ran into my arms. I picked him up and lifted him high into the air.

“I missed you, daddy. You were asleep for so long.” He sighed and I couldn't help but giggle. He was adorable and he was mine. A spitting image of me. A face full of freckles, curly purple hair and...

“Make me fly like a Dragon, daddy.” And he loved Dragons as much as I did.

“Dee-Dee, can you set the table?” Nova asked our eldest as she waved her wand for the ladle to stop and I was twirling our youngest in the air, making roaring noises while doing so.

“I can't.” Aoede replied, frowning as she focused even more on her drawing. “I want to finish this before I leave for Hogwarts today, mum.”

“Alright.” Nova sighed, knowing full well she was the same when she was her age so she couldn't really complain.

We all sat down for breakfast and it was the most beautiful sight. Aoede was trying to find her mouth to feed herself and draw at the same time. Roggie was playing with his Dragon plushie more than eating, so Nova helped him because we both knew what a tantrum he would throw if anyone even tried taking his plushie away. Victoire was eating her pancakes with one hand leaning on the kitchen table as Luna started to describe her plan for today to us.

“And then when we are done with ice cream we are going to go see uncle Harry and aunt Ginny.” Luna finished, her mouth full of pancakes.

“Is Teddy going to be there?” Victoire's eyes shone and I exchanged a look with Nova, who had the biggest smirk painting her face.

She already predicted that Victoire and Teddy are going to end up together and I couldn't argue with her as Dora, Vicky and Teddy were best friends. And so far she has been right about everyone. She was right that Bill will find someone special. She was right about Hermione and Ron and about Ginny and Harry.

“Bill would kill you if he saw your smug expression right now.” I leaned towards Nova and whispered to her.

“Oh, c'mon. They are adorable.” Nova defended herself. “Bill is just an overly protective father.” She giggled.

“Yeah, even more than I am.” I laughed.

“Oh, you'll see when Aoede tells you about her first crush. I will bet my wand right now that you will be the same as Bill.” She bit her lip, trying not to giggle.

“Yeah, yeah.” I playfully rolled my eyes, knowing she was probably right.

“And someone has to make Teddy an official Weasley. Tonks would be proud.” She gave out a gentle smile.

“Tell that to Bill.” I winked at her and made her chuckle.

—

After a lot of effort and bickering and making sure Aoede has everything and we didn't forget anything, we finally arrived at King's Cross. I took Aoede's trunk to the luggage compartment, while Nova was making sure Di-Di had all her art pencils.

“Are you crying, Charles?” Nova nudged me with her elbow as we watched our eldest get on the train, waving at us.

“Says the woman with the handkerchief pressed against her cheek.” I teased her, wiping away a tear. I can't believe how good we have it. After everything we've been through, after losing my brother and some of our friends, after having 3 kids, we were still perfect.

We kept waving at Aoede, Roggie now in my arms as he stated that his legs were hurting, waving his plushie around at his big sister, until the train disappeared around the corner.

The second it did, Luna grabbed Victoire's hand and they started running towards the pillar that will take us back to Diagon Alley, both shouting 'ice cream ice cream'.

“You want to make a bet in which House Aoede will be sorted in?” I chuckled at Nova's question.

“We already went through this, love.” I smirked. “Di-Di will be a Ravenclaw, Dora a Hufflepuff and Roggie...” I turned my head to our son, booping his nose, making him giggle. “...Roggie will be a Gryffindor.”

“I am willing to bet 10 Galleons that Aoede will end up in Gryffindor.” Nova said mockingly. I knew she didn't really believe it. Aoede was a miniature Nova, despite her red hair, and she knew that there is no way she will be sorted in any other House than Ravenclaw but she was having too much fun playing with me like this.

“It's on, Mrs. Weasley.” I smiled and kissed my wife. As long as we were a happy little family, our children healthy, knowing they are safe and Nova looking at me the way she was now, letting me know she is just as in love with me as she was all those years ago when we were at school, I didn't care in which House our children get sorted as I knew we would love them all the same.

A/N: Okay, this really is it now! I can leave this story with a lighter heart and no more shedding tears!

Now I need some time to move on from this story and then I am ready to write more happy endings for our Dragon boy ❤️

Thank you again for reading and being so nice on this site ❤️

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thattimdrakeguy · 3 years

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Weirdly enough Red Robin is the series I’d be most scared to review, because for obvious reasons I imagine more than any other character it’s the Tim fan base (I won’t say fandom, because I feel like that gives a different connotation nowadays. and it’s a bunch of chill, un-interactive but very passionate, chaps) that follow me.

And I’d just get sooo many people giving me nit-picks, and telling me stuff I already know.

Cause I can say anything against Teen Titans 2003, New 52, Rebirth, and Wonder Comics stuff cause that’s the generally agreed upon stuff that you can complain against for Tim. Cause like, to not play dumb to it, this whole Bat-Family fandom acts like there’s freaking laws to abide by if you don’t want a bunch of batty (not a pun, not even saying not a pun in sarcasm lol) fans and stans down your neck. Normally involving certain characterizations or comics that, honestly, aren’t even usually the more accurate ones, but the contradicting ones that don’t make a lick of sense, and that’s not even talking about the straight up fanon ones.

Not to say I wouldn’t get why it’s the Red Robin series that’d get people to give me crap out of all the Tim stuff, because I do. It’s a lot of peoples entry to Tim, and it’s pretty heavy implications of suicidal ideation, and more so obvious mental breakdown journey across continents means a lot to people. I can get why, and if it wasn’t those characters in it, I’d think it was great too.

Also I know for a fact people would act like I’m just bias for 90s Tim, and point out Timmy’s in a teddy bear hoodie in my header. Cause it’s the most weakest defense someone could possibly make cause they’re lacking an actual point. Like they know everything a fucking ‘bout me, when they don’t, I’m just allowed to think my own stuff, and I’m allowed my dang comfort art, so blah blah blah. I’ve proved myself enough. I don’t need some random dismissive guys random approval or not, but man can it be annoying when someone thinks they’re smart about it.

Like basically put, it would be very exhausting to go through the many different series and years of comic book content to explain why I think the way I do, when all the other person has to say is “I like this series a lot, and it means a lot to me, it’s story about depression, and plus it’s Tim being at the button of his sanity so-- And I think this person is stuck on 90s Tim” cause like I freaking get it, and acting like cause I prefer a different Tim comic means my opinion isn’t valid, is the most childish thing ya can really do. Like I love 90s Tim the most for a reason, and I started reading Tim as Red Robin first, ya ninny.

But to just be honest, it is an incredibly flawed series that has overall, in the long game, soiled the character of Tim Drake, and directly influenced the New 52 and beyond depiction of him. Not to give Lobdell an excuse, I just find it really odd that people getting praising it as the peak of Tim content when it’s even caused some really freaking toxic fandom beliefs.

When some of the most important scenes in the series are so botched that it has genuinely made people despise other characters when I don’t even think they were portrayed well for that to make sense. The messy inconsistent writing as it went between two different writers causing some absolutely terrible characterization for Tim that isn’t even always consistent within the series itself because FabNic is just awful, and how forgettable most stuff after the first story is.

That first story I can understand the love for it. But people treating the whole series as a whole like it’s a great journey of long-term story development just feels like a real bad describer for it. Because to me by the end of it’s run it caused Tim to be put in the terrible spot that he’s only now escaping from little under a decade later. As well as only really starting cause people in the company didn’t like Tim and the characters around them as much as you’d hope.

In total, I honestly feel like if it wasn’t released during a time were the common tastes were very edgy and emo-esque, as well as around the time the online fandom spaces were only really then being formed in a way that was practical for casual interaction and discussion, and being the only series titled “Red Robin” therefore people seem to think it’s Tim’s variation of “Nightwing”, when it’s honestly not, it wouldn’t be a series that highly regarded.

I’m not saying the whole thing is a pile of shit, cause it’s also frankly not. There’s some powerful stuff in there, and some moments that really do hit super hard in ways that don’t feel superficial. Cause another thing people don’t seem to understand that when I say his characterization isn’t good in it, does not equal me saying “He is not the same exact character he was 15 years before the series came out”, it legitimately just means I feel they took the character to places that felt more forced than genuine, or just had him stuff that goes against what he’d do for the sake of just being edgy as if it’s deep, even during his circumstances and it created people having a false understanding of who Tim is at his heart, that made it incredibly difficult for Tim to get a good story for basically a freaking decade.

It’s a series I want to review because I have genuine things to say about it, but when ever I do say anything about it I feel like I see several sub-posts that are almost undeniably about me (hasn’t happened for a while cause I don’t really bother talking about stuff I don’t like anymore, cause life's hard enough, and I’ve seen the worst end of a lot of people from it) trying to downplay me, because they got defensive about it, rather than actually trying to process what I meant by things instead of just assuming it cause it’s touchy for them.

Like I’ve openly shit on Damian’s most popular series’, and accepted fandom malarkey, because I legitimately think they’re overhyped as could be, not that great, and only have the popularity they do through bandwagoning and going along with things. And I did that while knowing how defensive the Damian fandom is, and how quick they are to just leak out nasty assumptions or outright suicide bait you (yes I remember someone tried to defend me by suicide baiting someone else, but fuck them too, I never defended them or asked them to. idgaf which fandom does it. i’m clearly not on anyone's team. this isn’t a fucking sports game).

I’ve even straight up shit on pretty much every single Jason story except Under the Red Hood, while defending some Robin Jason stories, and I haven’t even got crap on me for that, which is honestly strange. Surprisingly just got told “Ya know what. Fair point. I can accept that. I don’t agree, but I can accept it.”. Which given what I have been shown of the Jason fandom I expected much worse, but they’ve honestly been really chill with me. Me and the Jason fandom has been actually some of the most pleasant interactions I’ve had outside my own bubble.

The majority of Steph’s existence as a character I’ve criticized and gotten crap on it, but honestly I found the response of countless anons going “YEAH MAN I AGREE WITH YOU” and going way harder on her than I ever did to be pretty dang annoying, and even more annoying cause people kept thinking I said stuff I freaking didn’t out of it. So every now and again people will just straight up lie about me to my face. Like you try to talk to someone that’s been preparing to talk to you by fighting an imaginary version of yourself. It’s pretty difficult if I had to be honest. Talking ‘bout bias’s like I didn’t write TimSteph fan fictions before I realized they weren’t that great and didn’t work, while realizing that I honestly didn’t think Tim was into girls in-general.

But, to get back on topic, with the Tim fandom it’s less like, open faced attempts to make you feel like a garbage human being, and more just straight up rudely dismissive as quite often the ones I’ve seen do it try to portray themselves as some calm knowledgeable unbias source of Tim knowledge.

And there’s a different sensation of annoyance at that.

Like what is the point of trying to pretend to be some source of knowledge and for a few comradery, while also being a dismissive person that first has to make others seem lesser.

And there’s some that I’ve seen do it that I don’t even think are dicks honestly, and have no problem with it, cause it’s just so innocently “I just really like the series and still think it’s good”. That I’d be confused why people would think I have a vendetta against everyone else. I’ve never been like, straight up offended more than once over the specific topic of Red Robin. But it is a thing that makes me like “I’ll get so many people giving me crap over having a different opinion for this won’t I”. And get some people trying to validate just being a bit of a fucker to me for no good reason.

So like, may or may not write a Red Robin review, but I might not cause despite quite a few people in the Tim fandom being quite chill about it, there’s quite a lot of people that are low-key toxic about it, and a lot of bad fandom things came out of it as well.

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doodles-arts · 4 years

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Request: turtles reacting to crush

pairing?: All 2003 turtles x reader

Rating?: Pg

Warings?: loads of fluff

Request: 2003 turtles reaction to their crush, the turtles did the sweetest thing ever for them, talking loads of nice stuff about their crush, protecting crush or showing their nice/happy sides and crush waits until they are alone and crush says, crush has been good friends with the individual turtle, so they’ve never spoken like this before, “You know you’re really beautiful”?

Summary: The boys all react a little differently to a super hawt crush! some boast, others turn hate into love

A/N: I did get carried away with my baby Donnie a little, if your interested in a one shot of a biker reader with a sarcastic Donnie, please reblog! I’d love to write it, but am working on other things for you guys, so if you’d like it let me know to make some time! @donatello-writes thought you might like the donatello part. Give it a heart if it were any good and read this lil note, love your work!

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Leonardo:

Met you because you were being jumped.

Classic hero saving damsel in distress

Doesn’t trust you at first for the sake of his family

But he grows on you

2 sizes...

You're absolutely the sweetest!

You bake him things for free as a thank you for saving your life

He can’t help but eAT it AlL

Master splinter actually makes him run laps around the sewers because of how lagged he is.

He asks Donnie for a diet plan and is h e a r t b r o k e n when he’s told NO SUGARS

You make him keto and protein cookies for his weekly cheat meal

You apologized when you were told he couldn’t eat anymore because he had gotten bigger.

The boys tease him about his weight when you're around.

Even after he lost all the extra weight.

His calm demeanor eases all your anxieties

He loves the way you're just so kind to all his brothers and everyone you meet.

One day when you were baking a cake for Mikeys birthday and all other kinds of party favors for all the boys, Leonardo kept you company. You both talked and about things you were planning, you both were very close. And Leo was very obsessed with you and your baking apron. He probably followed your back end with googly eyes all afternoon.

You didn’t mind having him keep your company and hand you any ingredients you needed but you couldn’t help but notice how much more his muscles were showing off. He was RIPPED. You blushed and looked away when he caught your wandering eyes. He didn’t seem to mind, keeping the conversation going about your next hangout. He watched you with adoration and when you couldn’t reach for something on a high shelf he chuckled and offered to get it for you. You didn’t want to seem helpless but he was willing.

“That would be great actually!” You smiled and stepped back, “coming to my rescue as per usual~”, he blushed but you couldn’t see it as he reached up to grab the barely used baking soda. As he stretched, time slowed. His usual strap that held his katana was resting as you both cooked. Without it, it brought much more focus on the flesh on his side that wasn’t covered by his plastron or shell. It was insane how his muscles on his sides stretched and rolled. You could have drooled right there. But there was more to your private show, the little potbelly he used to harbor thanks to your baking, was long gone! His arms were round and plump. The muscles warned anyone who tried to mess with the leader. A clear reminder that you were in love with a god. A GOD. He was magnificent, his body chiseled from stone by Donatello or Michelangelo, the sculptors. You sucked in a breath, trying to make the second longer, but all good things come with an end…

You couldn’t help how your cheeks flushed as your thoughts wandered and traveled. As did your eyes, embarrassing yourself even more as he turned sharply, his glutes flexing as he took a step forward, you just couldn’t believe it-

“-You know you’re beautiful, right?” Leonardo almost dropped the bottle of baking soda that slipped from his three-fingered hands when you had commented on this. Quickly catching it and trying to grab his cool back from slipping in between his fingers as well. You giggled, laughing at your own embarrassment to lessen it. You might have been a bit flustered, but you meant it. “Uh.. thanks?” Still flustered and taken aback, Leo handed you the bottle and sat back down.

The air was thick with an awkward feeling, it might have been you, but you did mean it, you could have meant it platonically or romantically, so you weren’t that worried if he didn’t feel that way. He was clearly the source of the feeling. Refusing to talk afterward. Growing with anticipation, you put too much baking soda in the bowl and groaned in annoyance, scooping the part of the batch that had too much and throwing it out. After it was fixed you took a spoonful and handed it to Leo, “I’m sorry if I said anything out of line, peace offering?”

You had been making an eggless cookie dough batch so that you could give Mikey some cookie dough to eat without getting sick. And as Leo looked at you with that tiny sweet smile, he knew he was cracking. He wasn’t offended, not at all! He was flattered! Honored! But how could he reveal his true feelings if you might not feel the same? He took the spoon with a smile, “accepted!”

When he was finished with the spoon and set it down, you jumped into his arms for a hug, “good! Now stop being so quiet! You're my favorite person, so be my taste tester!” He felt his control falling and before you could pull away he hugged you tighter, you giggled and hugged back. But it was when he wouldn’t let go that you felt something was off. And there was, Leo was freaking out about how to approach you about this. “I’m sorry, but let’s stay like this, I have something to tell you”, he whispered into your ear huskily. You couldn’t help the goosebumps on your arm that stood when his warm breath hit the side of your neck.

“Okay-yeah, okay”, you replied shakily, you weren’t scared, not in the slightest, you could feel a spring in the bottom of your stomach start to tighten. His close proximity had your head swimming. You breathed in his scent and swooned inwardly to the smell of metal oil, peppermint body wash, and the scent of his natural skin.

“I… I know how strange it might seem, but I like ya’. Something about you has me pulling towards you. You always make me happier. I don’t know how else to tell ya, but I want-” before he could answer, your breathless voice did,

“Yes, I like you too, silly.” He hugged you closer as he silently fist pumped the air behind you, “shell yes!”

“I can feel that Leo” You giggled.

Donatello:

Your Casey’s sister

He hates you once he gets to know you

Your blunt, straightforward and RUDE

You’re really smart tho

And slim thicc…

Every time you come he leaves to his lab

He can’t stand you Casey, and Raph roughhousing

He can’t stand watching you on some days either tho…

He hates the way you make him feel

He’ll never admit it but he’s in la-la-la-la-loveeee

The way your arms are beefed up

You’re not picky

You don’t complain

You confront him once, asking, ”what’s your problem!” and he lashes out that your blunt, straight forward and provocative

He didn’t mean that last part

You bluntly tell him you don’t care about what he thinks, you never did anything directly to him for him to always give you attitude

You ask for a truce, instead of being problematic and resorting to violence

From that moment Donnie feels different about you

guess you weren’t so problematic and dumb as he thought

You agreed to help out with his experiments as a peace offering. They’re boring and you hate them but you try for Donnie. Lately, he has been asking many experiments from you, asking to help him with tools and taking notes. He said your handwriting was ‘prettier, surprisingly’. You told him his face was surprising. You both threw jabs at each other constantly. But you grew to like it, he was quick on his feet and always knew what to say back or when to stop. Most people were too sissy to take your comebacks or too sensitive to throw jabs. As you got to know Donnie you noticed how much fun he actually could be. You certainly didn’t have to prove your strength around him or get bruises by the end of the day. With him, it was playful and calm, sure you still liked a bit of wrestling here or there, it had been hotwired into your system by then.

Donnie respected that and you respected that he didn't enjoy the roughhousing around his equipment or in his lab. The mutual respect was a different tune than the constant hating glares you'd send each other. As you sat on the table next to the bike he was fixing up you were humming a tune to yourself, waiting for Donatello to ask for another tool. It kinda reminded you about your dad…

You blew a raspberry and laid you back on the clear table, “I’m bored”, you huffed out. You were tired of just sitting around, looking at the wall, “Well, lucky you, I just finished” he responded dryly. You rolled your eyes and hopped off the table to help him off his shell, “for the tallest slimmest turtle of the bunch, you sure are heavy.” you snickered as he faked a laugh and rolled the bike through the back entrance. “Yea, now shut up and follow me.”

You huffed and walked alongside him, “Soooo, who’s the bike for. Do I get to ride it first? Only fair since I helped!” You mused, trying to convince him to let you ride the bike. You used to own a bike, and you loved that thing to death since it was the one your dad had made for you until Casey broke it.

~~~

You were furious, it was the last thing you had of your dads, and he totally wrecked it during the night with Raph. You tried your hardest to fix it, but you didn’t have the cash for the spare parts, so you ended up scrapping the beat-up engine and the seat, hoping to still find the memory of your dad in them. You kept it in your room. Inside your closet.

After that, it took Casey months to get back on your good side, you only held out that long because he refused to tell you how he broke it. After another month of torture and burnt eggs in the morning, Casey begged the turtles to tell you the truth. And he did, promising to explain what happened to the bike, but he had to show you something first. And that’s how you met the turtles and Donnie’s stuffy ass.

~~~

“It’s yours. So you can ride it wherever you want, genius.” Donnie had to look away, feeling flustered that he was doing this. But you stopped dead in your tracks. When Donnie noticed that you had stopped, and turned to look at you. You had this dumb look on your face as you starred at the bike. Taking small steps towards the seat and opening it, “what’s wrong with you?” He asked, hoping for you to say something back. Kinda creeped out by your silence and wide eyes. As you lifted the seat, ignoring his remark and noticed the little engraved signature of you and your dad. Your heart broke into tiny pieces and fell in the pit of your stomach, you fell to your knees, feeling yourself shaking. Looking at the familiar engine.

“Where did you get this-” he felt a little nervous at the tone of your voice. Deeply unwavering, you sounded half dead. Pissed.

“I thought you’d-”

“WHERE!” He gulped, you hadn’t even looked at him. He walked around the bike to your side, “I’m sorry, but I and Casey took the liberty to rebuild a junk bike with your seat, I fixed the engine and put it in too. If I knew it would bother you so much, I wouldn’t have invaded your privacy.” He still felt your cold demeanor and didn’t dare touch you. Your silence only fueled his anxiousness. Your shoulders were slumped and you tried your best not to break, but the pieces were all falling down. Remembering the night as a little girl that you both worked on the bike and engraved your names on the underside of the seat and rode it for a test drive.

The tears flowed down your cheeks before you could stop them, it was unusual for you to cry, but your bike. His bike, our bike. It was back and fixed, you had something to feel like he was still there, waiting for you to come home after riding. Donnie’s warmth was wafting towards you and you gave him a tight hug. He still stayed after you yelled and didn’t make fun of you when you cry. he really was sweet... huh.

“Thank you, Donnie. I never knew you were so soft.” You pulled away and gave him a soft punch on the arm. He chuckled, trying not to stare at your tear-stained face, it was strange to see you that way. “Nothing wrong with being a little soft, now get outta here and tell me how well the bike does,” he smiled.

You smirked, rising and pulling the turtle behind you, swinging a leg over the bike like second nature. Pulling him on too, “you’re coming with, nerd. We’re gonna have the ride of our lives.” You rev the bike and speed out the sewers, and he yelps. He quickly holds on to your waist for dear life as you ride about the sewer. A raise in the concrete sends you in the air a few feet and you laugh as you feel him hold on tighter, the drop back down sending your sunglasses down, covering your eyes from the wind as you drive faster. His buff arms were warm on your waist. They felt good, and it almost distracted you while you were driving, what would it be like to have them wrapped around you on different circumstances?

You made swift and tight turns that made it feel like your bike would fall on its side. But you were a better driver than Casey could ever dream to be! Donnie was in good hands. As you drove back to the lair, your hair wind-whipped, and all over the place, Donnie couldn’t help but feel both scared out of his mind and adrenaline rush!

As you both hopped off you smiled at the slacked jaw turtle, “she rides good, I’ll probably change her tires though. Maybe loosening the steering gear, makes the tight turns feel less death-defying.” You refered to the bike and giggled as you helped him off, having a new feeling of adoration for Don, even with that dumb look on his face. After he wiped the surprise of his face and laughed you noticed something about Donnie, he had a tendency to stare. That much you already knew, but with you, it was like he couldn’t look away or keep staring all at the same time.

‘Hmm… Oh.. OHHH… How could I have never noticed before?’ You smiled at him and grabbed him by the sides of the plastron and forced him to look at you. “He-Hey, what’s the big idea!” You kept smirking, watching his cues, of getting angry, huffing, and pushing you off as he did with his brothers. It never came. That’s all you needed to know, you tapped him softly on the snout and smirked. “Nothing, I’ll come back for my baby tomorrow, you just make sure to be in disguise, we're going for a joy ride tomorrow night.” Waving goodbye as you walked out you felt proud. You were gonna put this boy through a ride, “By the way, Don, your really cute, ya’ know that?” His jaw slacked as you walked out, he never thought you’d ever say that to him.

He kinda liked it tho...

Raphael:

Met you through April

Is infatuated with you from the startttt

You are a gymnast

100% a smart ass

100% has a great ass

Casey asks, “can I ask a stupid question?” and you’d respond before you can keep quiet, “better than anyone here”

He finds your flexibility hawt

The boys hate how much he tries to show off when your around

You don’t notice, you think it’s just Raph being Raph

He’s ALWAYS inviting you to workout

LEG DAY every day

You like working on them and Raph doesn’t mind teaching you

You put his flexibility to the test every time

You tried to get along with him

The boys are shook to how well behaved he is with you

April notices how well you take his flirting, if you even notice it

You like how dorky Raph is when you’re alone

That’s when you start having feelings for him

Your gymnasium was closed by the company it was under and you had nowhere to practice

You confessed this to Raph and he noticed you were sad about it

He finished hanging up the last high bar. He knew you were missing the gym you used to practice in. He hoped his brothers wouldn’t notice how much effort it really took him to put it all up, so they wouldn’t accuse him of going soft. He wasn’t going soft, he was just trying to impress you is all. There was no shame in that, right? You were cool and sexy, you didn’t even have to try to look beautiful, you just were. Something April and Raph agreed on multiple occasions.

As you walked into the sewers with a pair of leggings and a form-fitting sweater. Perfect. You walked over to hug your friend and held on tightly to his warm, and he was glad to return it. He led you deeper into the lair and showed you, “well, I know that you miss your old gym, and you can’t find any good ones around here. So I thought you could kick it here until then!”

He pointed towards the hanging bars and gym mats on a far corner of the lair. An old mirror hung a few inches off the ground. You could tell he did his best with what he had. He had even taken the liberty to make a walking bar, the current thing you were struggling on. He listened. He cared. You walked closer to the corner that held the mini gymnasium he had created for you. No one had ever done anything like this for you, how was it possible… that you hadn’t seen it before?

“Oh, Raph… I’m at a loss of words. I can’t believe it!” You basically jumped in his arms when you had turned around. You were unusually giddy at the moment and decided to use it to your advantage. Hugging him tightly, knocking the wind out of him, pulling back in a flash and zooming back in.

…

His eyes were wide open as your cute face and scrunched up nose, and kissed him! He couldn’t believe it! You were kissing him right now! On the exact second that he started kissing back, you pulled away bashfully. Smiling and looking back towards your own personal little gymnasium, “thanks again, Raph.”

He nodded and replied, sorta out of it, “yeah, that was one hell of a thank you for a weird looking fella like me-”

You whipped and around and gasped offendedly, “-don’t you say that Raph, you know you’re beautiful, right?” the last part of the question was asked softly. He shrugged and you laid a hand on his cheek to force him to look at you. “You are Raph, I like you, I have for some time now, don’t turn me away, please.” He looked back up at you incredibly and starred as you smiled at his wild look.

“Alright, I won’t, on one condition. I get another kiss?”, pulling him closer with a hand on his cheek, you pulled him in for another kiss. One that he was actually prepared for, this time.

Michelangelo:

You meet him at a skatepark

He thinks your hawt in biker shorts and retro t-shirts

He obsessed with showing off his moves, just like his older brother

He has a different approach tho

You end up impressing him more tho

He makes jokes and invites you to skating contests

You win a few, but it’s obvious that he knew a lot too

You actually enjoy his company

You find it strange you only see each other at night

You don’t mind it tho because you own a skate-shop

You too love having late-night snacks

He never sits too close to you

The first time he’s afraid of taking a chance at you being afraid of how he looks

You guys take turns bringing snacks

You always buy pizza

You know there’s something weird about his body, but you don’t judge because he’s the absolute sweetest

*SmaCK* Your falling for him

One day, Mikey can’t help but want to be closer, so he has to take that chance

“Awesome, Mikey! Check this out!” You rode towards a staircase hand bar, sliding down and as you jumped off, you flipped your board, landing perfectly on the ground and riding your way back over to him. As you stomped your board back up it snapped. Mikey gasped in pity, “oh no dudette, I’m so sorry.” You shrugged and smiled, “It was a prototype anyway, I’ve got more in my shop.”

You walked towards your beat-up car as you felt Mikey’s face drop, “wicked cool! You make boards?” You chuckled as you turned around and pointed to his board, “you do too, honey.” There was that nickname that drove Mikey through the moon, had him sighing like a lovesick puppy. He followed you to the car with goo-goo eyes.

“Wanna come see my shop?” He practically jumped in excitement, “Would I!” He hopped into the car without a second thought, too sweet to take into consideration that you could see his green skin in the closer proximity. The hunch under his trench coat, the strange shape of his feet, or that his chest and stomach were irregularly flat for a guy with such buffed up arms. As you drove, you turned on the music to make up for the lack of conversation. Not trying to seem awkward, just trying to wrap your head around the fact that Mikey wasn’t human.

He never hurt you before, or ever overstepped his boundaries, he wasn’t a creep, he was funny and cared about you. He cherished the time you spent together, he sent a text every night you were together when you got home to ensure you were safe. It was safe to say that you felt something for Michelangelo but was afraid to fall for a stranger. But was he really a stranger? It wasn’t like you met him yesterday! You had been hanging out for a few months.

You had nothing to fear and so when you walked out of the car you confidently invited him and turned the lights to let him gawk at your boards. “I custom make them, all ya gotta do is put in an order, I fix ‘em up too.” You leaned over your cashier post, admiring the obvious turtle in the light of your store. He was a big sweetheart, he’d never hurt you!

“Dollface, this is amazing! I didn’t know you could make surfboards, and the designs on them are wicked cool!” You agreed, very proud of your work as you walked over. Pressing a hand to his arm, “wanna make one together?” He nodded rapidly like a kid high off of candy. And you knew that his heart was too pure for this world, you laughed and pointed at his jacket.

“Maybe you should take this off and get comfortable!” For a split second, he almost agreed and shed off the oversized coat, but he didn’t want to lose you. You were so cool… “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, dollface.” You rolled your eyes and blew a raspberry, which surprised him. “Mikey, I don’t care what you look like, not like I couldn’t tell under the store lights anyway! You’re beautiful to me, you should know that!” You placed your hand on his chest pushing the coat off his shoulders softly with a smile.

Stunned but flattered he allowed it and leaned forward, feeling a moment creeping on, the coat fell on the floor. A few inches from your face and he was already closing his eyes and puckering out his lips at you, You felt the same energy, but…

You placed a finger on his lips, “You didn’t think it was going to be that easy did you?” He shrugged and grinned, “a guy’s gotta try don’t cha’ think?” You giggled and pecked his cheek. Leading him to the backroom to work on the new board together. Mikey wasn’t going to let you focus too much for too long though. He would get that kiss!

~~~~~~~~~

remember! if you really enjoed the donatello scenario, reblog for a oneshot!

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adultswim2021 · 3 years

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Penguins Behind Bars | July 20, 2003 - 11:00PM | Special

Well, fuck me, I'm covering Penguins Behind Bars, aren't I?

In the past I didn't consider this to be a true Adult Swim original, and I forget why exactly I came to that conclusion. It may have been because for a time this was impossible to find. Now it's just up there on Adult Swim's website and app, ready to be watch by all those who are morbidly curious enough to check it out. It's a National Film Board of Canada co-production, which might be another reason I considered this to belong to a different canon. But a little more research reveals that this short is owned by Cartoon Network and it's current presence on the Adult Swim app seems to support this. So I guess this is, indeed, an Adult Swim original. I coulda sworn this played at animation festivals and was merely acquired by Adult Swim for a one-time showing, but I guess this was a bonafide attempt at piloting a series and this is still currently their property.

Penguins Behind Bars is a fairly straight-forward women-in-prison story with penguins instead of human women, making it so you can't beat off to it. The humor is pretty light and the tone is cute. It's fairly adult, but it's nothing that you couldn't get away with airing on normal Cartoon Network in prime-time. It's not exactly Ilsa The Wicked Warden. It just feels like a Canadian cartoon. In fact, I'd say the defining characteristic of Penguins Behind Bars is Canadian.

The director, Janet Perlman, based this on her graphic novel of the same name, originally published in 1989. She directed another penguin short in 1981, called The Tender Tale of Cindrella Penguin. It's shorter, more kid-friendly, and dialogue-free, and is basically just a retelling of Cindrella but with penguins. It is also cute. As I understand she has a pretty respectable career in animation and children's books. Good for her!

The main problem with this pilot is that it's boring. It's mostly just penguin-related puns and visual gags. The plot is played fairly straight. I struggle to imagine a genuine audience for this. Not juvenile enough to satisfy kids, teens or (let's face it) your typical Adult Swim viewer, not sophisticated enough to amuse high-minded adults. It's a strange mixture of concepts all around. I've never in my life encountered anyone seeking this out except out of some kind of completist duty on the part of Adult Swim or adult animation fanatics.

Speaking of seeking, for years this was considered "lost media" as a broadcast recording of this short was not known to have survived (I probably had one somewhere, not to brag). Eventually one turned up in 2017 and a copy was uploaded to the internet. Cartoon Network apparently took notice, had the upload pulled, and put up their own copy themselves on Adult Swim's website. I have a distaste for when TV networks protectively pull fan-supplied copies of rare TV shows or even commercials they have no intention of making available themselves, so this is about as happy an ending for Penguins Behind Bars as it deserves.

MAIL BAG

I have this vague memory of seeing something on adult swim of a woman holding her arms out (Katherine Hahn maybe?) and to a hip hop beat going: ♫I'm a lesbian/ I do what *I* want♫ Do you remember what this was. It's vague memory is ruining my spiritual life.

Oh WOW. This sounds like something that would air on Spike TV, frankly. It sounds like you’re talking about a live-action thing, but could it have been Gary the Rat? They had an exquisite animation style that could easily be misremembered as live-action. The phrase “uncanny valley” gets tossed around a lot in animation circles, but,

If Adult Swim teamed up with your favorite fast food burger joint to make an "adult" style happy meal what kind of Toys would you like to see.

I would very much appreciate a line of Happy Meal toys that are Looney Tunes but Censored 11 themed. I know this doesn’t answer your question. To answer your question actually I would also very much appreciate a line of Assy McGee toys

im assuming all the mean/trolling e-mail you get are from your friends. do you ever wonder if they are really your friends since they have nothing better to do than anonymously harass your blog?

No I wonder about better stuff like what if they remade the spice girls but they are all naked

Any thoughts on Mike Richards becoming the new Jeopardy host? And no it's not Kramer so I'm gonna cut you off on the pass there.

I don’t know who that is, I don’t know who Kramer is, I don’t know who YOU are. This is a three strikes your out kind of sitch here. YOUR OWT

Tuca and Bertie is coming back for a 3rd season on [AS], what is your immediate reaction. If it's "I haven't seen the show" then make something up. Lie. I don't care.

I love bird movies and I eagerly await watching these ones! I love to freak to the beak. Episode 1 binge watch coming up :D

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #penguins behind bars

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Gimme Love, 3/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Hey, guys! I hope yall are enjoying this fic so far! Throw me a like please if you do. TW for this chapter: Grief // Homophobia

2003 High School. The bane of my existence. Just as I thought elementary and middle school were terrible, High School really was something else. From my childhood therapy sessions, I learned to conceal my anger, avoid freakouts, and channel my emotions into other things. It was good for me, yeah. But it also made me a more reserved person. Things still made me angry, the other kids at school being a primary key to that. But I never defended myself. Ever. Of course, Jujubee always had my back. Only in later years did I learn to appreciate the times she'd yell at the other kids, telling them to fuck off and whatnot. But back then, I wished she hadn't. It only drew more negative attention. All I wanted was to get through those tough years. I would come home a lot, look at pictures of myself as a child. And I'd be so mad because only then did I see that I wasn't an ugly kid. I was adorable. But, God clearly had favourites 'cause puberty did not do me any favours. If only I had grown up in a more modern time when no one gave a shit about looks. When people were outspoken about the cruelty that came with shaming someone for their looks. When people were more aware of the psychological damage that could do. Again, God had favourites. From years of my eyesight getting worse and needing a new pair of glasses every time I went to the eye doctor, I had thick-rimmed frames that made me look straight out of the 70s. And the lenses made my eyes look huge. I looked like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. My hair was bigger but full of split ends due to lack of giving a shit about it. I begged Mom to let me bleach it blonde. She always straight up refused. I had braces for a whole year which, yeah, many people had braces, but one time while answering a question in class, I drooled. And no one let me hear the end of it. And makeup wasn't something I really fucked with. I tried it once, safe and sound in my own bedroom, and it looked woeful. Instead of working to get better, I accepted defeat in that I would always be ugly. "I'm serious, girl. The foundation was so bad. And it was too dark." I ranted to Jujubee as we headed to the bus stop. I was trying to smoke my cigarette as fast as I could before getting there. Mom never knew, and what she didn't know couldn't kill her. Of course, I didn't just go into the store and buy them myself. Instead, I took one a day from my Grandpa's supply. "Girl, you gotta test it first." She pointed out, adjusting her bag straps. "Juju, I got the lightest colour they had. I don't fucking get it. Every other girl in the school uses it. Maybelline shouldn't sell this shit." "You just need to find a different brand." She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me closer, "OK, don't tell my Mom, but I tried some of her MAC shit the other day, and my skin looked fucking flawless." She let me go, took my cigarette from me, taking a toke herself. "Well, how am I supposed to get my hands on that?" I took the cig back. "I don't see any MAC stores around here." "Oh, yeah? Well, you know what your Other World self would do?" Jujubee's brow raised, a sweet grin appearing on her mischievous face. "She would say fuck school, hop on the next bus to Cleveland and go straight to the MAC store." Blowing out some smoke, I looked at her, "Well, Other World you wouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour." "No, she wouldn't 'cause she'd be the first on the bus." Jujubee countered. "And she'd start the sing-song." "Yeah, well other world me would out-sing you 'cause she's a star. She's a fucking diva, bitch. Mariah Carey has nothing on her." We were too caught up in our fantasy world; we almost missed the vehicle driving past us. Only when we saw the cackling faces of the boys at the back of the bus did realisation take over. We were going to miss the bus. "Fuck." I uttered, watching the guys still flipping us off as they moved further and further away. To make matters worse, a car pulled up beside us. And of fucking course, it was Trevor Preston, the Captain of the football team. His two sidekicks were in the

back seat, Logan and Noah. "Aw, look, guys. The geeks just missed the bus." Trevor fake whined. In these situations, I just shut down. I thought it was for the best at the time, but fuck, if I could go back and punch that guy. "You know what? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Trevor?" Jujubee squinted her eyes at him. “Wow, little fiesty, Juju.” He continued, "How about this? We all say sorry, and we can both ride with us to school." 'Hell fucking no.' I thought. "Oh yeah? And what's the catch?" Jujubee raised a brow. "You let me feel your tits," Trevor smirked, his two cronies snickered. "Ah, there it is. I thought that was what your pea-sized brain would come up with." Jujubee nodded her head. "So, hey, Brianna," Trevor shifted his attention, "You're awfully quiet. Don't I at least get a hello?" I was still frozen, feeling my anxiety brewing within. "Dude, don't be so sensitive. You know, if she opens her mouth, she'll just drool all over herself." Logan added, the three axe wounds beginning to snicker again. I felt like I should have at least opened my mouth to prove them wrong, or maybe spit on Trevor's car. But still, I just stood there. "Trevor, if you don't fuck off right now, I'm gonna key your car." Jujubee threatened. "Juju." I tried to stop her. "Wouldn't even have the chance, sweetheart. Either of you bitches come near my car; you'll never walk the halls again." How gentleman-like, threatening two girls. Funny how our safety was the price to pay for a car. Oh, men. "Keep that in mind," Trevor concluded before driving away with dumb and dumber. "You didn't have to do that." I looked at Jujubee. "I'm sorry they're such assholes." She replied, taking my hand in hers. I shook it off, however. "No, I mean, I wish you wouldn't do that." Jujubee crossed her brows, "what? So I'm supposed to sit there and just take it? No fucking way." "I know. But," I paused, "they kinda scare me. You know?" "Brie, there's nothing more pathetic than a man sweating over the safety of his ride." She retook my hand, "Don't be afraid of a cunt like him." "I mean, I can try not to. But I can't make any promises." I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the plan? How are we supposed to get there on time?" Jujubee was silent for a moment before replying with, "my Mom?" Her Mom did end up giving us a ride, much to my dismay. I would have preferred to take the day off. Or better yet, to just fucking drop out altogether. But Jujubee was always there to reassure me - I adored that bitch. I would have fucking taken a bullet for her. I would like to say that it wasn't just Jujubee and me, that we had a group of more friends. But these guys, I never really counted them as friends. A year prior, we both decided to try and improve our social lives by joining a club. The only one that would accept us was the chess club. Every other member was a guy, and they were nerds. Not that Jujubee and I minded. However, the problem was that they only let us in because...well, do I even need to explain? "So, Brianna," Jimmy decided to approach me at the end of one session, licking his hand and sweeping his hair from his face. "Because I beat you twice today, what do I get?" "...Excuse me?" "My prize. What do I get??" He put an arm around my shoulders. I was puzzled, "Uh, you can have my chicken nuggets at lunch." His grin was beginning to disappear. "Oh, I was thinking of something else. A kiss, maybe?" I felt bad for doing it, but my fight or flight response told me to just run from the room. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but these guys were just on another level of thirst. And it wasn't just me who they flirted with. Jujubee had informed me of a time Arnold convinced her to make out with him. She was all for it until she realised how awful of a kisser he was. And as the boys became more desperate, we decided that we were better off alone. Again, I was so grateful for Jujubee. I was surprised she stuck around, considering she had seen me at my worst when we were still so young. How the fuck had she not developed

issues of her own? Jujubee was the number one reason I even found the strength to just get up in the morning, drag my ass to school, and do my work - Well, aside from wanting to get good grades so I could go to a good college. The second reason? Blair. Unlike me, she was thriving. Our lives were totally cliche - me being the kid who grew up to be the nerd who only speaks when it's to answer a question. And Blair, growing up to be the head cheerleader. And I was still very much in love with her. What a fucking cliche. I avoided Blair at all costs for several reasons;

differing social circles (in my case, lack of),

her boyfriend, who was the Captain of the soccer team and wasn't shy about giving me and Jujubee grief,

her friends,

and, of course, my massive crush on her.

So, why was Blair the second reason as to why I dragged myself to school? Her smile. That was enough. As much as I tried to avoid her, the world decided to do a big "fuck you" on me and sometimes put us into situations together. And every time, I'd be internally freaking out. The worst was when we were both 16. It was that time of the year when the school would invite someone to subject us to the most humiliating moment of our lives. How the fuck were you supposed to put a condom on a banana without bursting out laughing? How the fuck were you supposed to sit there and keep a straight face when the educator used words like 'flaps'? We filed into the class, Jujubee and me taking seats at the back of the room. We knew this was going to be hilarious, so best to avoid the attention of the teacher. "Juju, I know you are dying to make jokes during this, but I'm begging you. Please don't." I spoke quietly to her as other students filed in. "But you know I'm going to, right?" Jujubee smirked, putting her bag on the ground. "No. We wanna keep a low profile. If we laugh, we draw attention, and then we risk being singled out. You know? We'll be at the front of the class demonstrating whatever this bitch asks us." Obviously, I was referring to putting condoms on bananas and the like. Juju, however, raised a brow, "I wouldn't mind that, babe. Don't worry. We won't need to take our clothes off." I stared at her for a few seconds, unable to think of how to respond to that. Jujubee winked, and I forced myself to look away. "That's not what I meant." Blair strolled in with Denali and Rosé, already I could feel my stomach knotting. They went to sit together somewhere in the middle. "Ugh, nope. I don't think so, ladies." Ah, Miss Jaida Hall, if only I could have warned you not to say what you were about to say. Somehow Blair and the two others knew she was speaking to them. She continued, "This is an important class, and I'm not gonna have you all laughing and snickering during it." She had a point. The three girls usually whispered to each other in class, giggling about all sorts of shit. It was never anything malicious about the lesson or teachers, just inside jokes with each other, pretty harmless stuff. But it pissed the teachers off so much. "You can't be serious, right?" Denali replied, clearly scandalised. "Very serious, actually." Ms Hall nodded, "Denali, sit with Brian. Rosé, with Gigi. Blair, with Brianna." I grabbed Jujubee by the wrist, the pressure making her squeak. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Blair was not rolling her eyes as she made her way to the back towards me. This was not fucking happening. As instructed, Jujubee stood up and let Blair sit down, moving to sit somewhere else. I was alone with the one person I tried my hardest to avoid. She slouched down in her chair, arms folded like she was already over it. I wanted so badly to ask if she was OK. But I couldn't bring myself to. And as the lights turned off and the sex-ed lady pressed play on the video player, I wished I had said something. As the way too enthusiastic narrator explained step by step the act of sexual intercourse, I tried hiding the blush on my face with my hair. I tried so hard to focus on what I was being taught. The truth was, I was still a virgin, as were many of the others in the room, I'm sure. But unlike them, I had no idea how sex worked. It wasn't something I ever gave time to think about. I felt a tapping on my hand. My body tensed as I glanced to the side. Blair was looking at the screen, then at me, then her fingers brushed against my hand. I stared back, unsure of what was happening but also knowing full well what she was doing. She leaned closer and pressed her lips on mine. … OK, that's not what happened. Life wasn't a movie. This was the beginning of the fantasies. Was I ashamed because I was thinking about Blair like that? Or was I ashamed that I enjoyed thinking of Blair like that? "This is ridiculous," Blair whispered. Was I supposed to say something back? "What do you mean?" I

whispered back. "Do they actually think we're that dumb? We all know how sex works. We don't need this stupid class." Blair rolled her eyes. I almost told her that I belonged to the small percentage that didn't know. But I stopped myself. I couldn't bear her knowing that information. Instead, I went with the awkward, "haha. Yeaaahhhh…" For the rest of the film, we sat in silence. Still trying to focus on the screen. Not the absolute stunner sitting next to me. And as if by magic, the video ended. I wanted to say I was relieved, but I couldn't lie; what I learned from the film left me nauseous. He puts his hoo-ha in her what, now?? "Well, that was really cool and hip, right?" The educator enthused. I cringed internally. No woman wearing a crucifix necklace and ankle-length skirt has the right to use words like 'cool' and 'hip'. "I know it's probably all so confusing. So that's why I'm here to answer any of your questions, dudes and dudettes." Already, one of the boys put a hand up. "Go ahead, homie." "What about the other hole?" He said with a straight face before his friends started laughing. He laughed back as he fired one of them. "You know. The back door?" Ms Hall shot him the 'look'. He was toast. The sex educator fixed her hair quite uncomfortable, "Well, there's a reason that is an out hole, young man. I warn all of you, do not go down that road. You will get aids and die. Now, does anybody else have a question?" The educator rambled, fixing her hair awkwardly. I heard the rustling of clothes beside me, and glancing around, Blair had her hand straight up in the air. "Yes, sweetheart?" Sex Ed lady pointed to her. "OK, so this is interesting and all, but I was just wondering, what about non-heterosexual sex?" Her brows knit for a moment. I looked around at her now. The breath caught in my throat. "I'm sorry?" Sex Ed lady asked. "You know. Man on man. Girl on girl. What about all of that?" Blair raised a brow. "I mean, you gotta know there's more than just heterosexual people out there. Maybe some even in this room right now." "Blair." Ms Hall began. "Because, if you disagree, then that's ridiculous. Oh, and if you think aids is some kind of death sentence, then you seriously need to educate yourself." Sex ed lady looked appalled, her Christian beliefs quite clearly threatened. "That's it. Get out." Ms Hall stood up. Blair huffed, pushing her seat back, lifted her bag and left the room, Ms Hall following behind. "OK. So, any other questions? Reasonable questions only, please." Jujubee was looking over her shoulder at me now, sharing the same expression I did. Thank God for lunch next period. Jujubee and I were hiding at the back of the school, in an alley between the building itself and the old workshops. The perfect hiding place for a smoke and to freak the fuck out about specific events. "Juju, she knows. She knows I'm a lesbian. She knows I like her." I paced. "I'm moving. That's it." I stopped. "But why would she speak up for me of all people? It doesn't make sense." My eyes widened. "Unless she's also a lesbian. I mean, that makes sense, right?" Jujubee had been sitting on the wall, patiently listening to my manic ramblings. The first few minutes, she was just as astounded. But the more I theorised, rambling on and on, she was over it. "I highly doubt that considering the boyfriend." "Then she must know. Why else would she say it? I highly doubt there are other gays in that class. Speaking of which, I had no idea lesbians could have sex like; how does that work. I'm gonna look into that somehow. But getting back to the point, if she did know, why would she speak out for me of all people?" My ramblings were non-stop. I tried my best to avoid Blair for the rest of the day, not that I could, considering we were both in the same last period. Blair's outburst was the talk of the school. I wasn't sure if it was a positive response or not. The only thing I did know was Trevor was pissed. "Brie, look." Jujubee tapped me. I turned from my locker and looked where everyone else seemed to be

looking. Just down the corridor, Trevor was standing over Blair, their conversation clearly heated. People were shamelessly moving closer, Jujubee following in their path. "Juju, don't," I whispered. But she didn't listen. I went after her as if it would stop her. "Trevor, this isn't that big of a deal," Blair said. "Not a big deal? Blair, do you know what the guys are saying? They think you're gonna dump me for a girl. Do you know how humiliating that is?" Trevor held a hand to his chest "And what if I did?" Blair challenged. The few people standing around cooed with excitement. "Oh, please. Don't get all cocky now that you have an audience." Trevor pointed. But Blair took a step closer to him. "What, 'cause you know you're the one who looks like an idiot? Maybe if you weren't so insecure, you'd know I would never do that to you." "Don't call me an idiot." Trevor lowered his tone, choosing purposely to ignore her reassurance. "Fine. But don't criticise me for a valid question I asked in a class you weren't even a part of. It's none of your business, no one's business for that matter." Blair bit back. "I can do what I want, Blair." "OK. Whatever." Blair brushed past him. Trevor quickly spun around, grabbing her arm. "No, we're not done having this conversation." My stomach twisted. "Let go of my arm, Trevor." Blair tugged, her voice cracking. Trevor did as was told now that the air was thick with tension, "We are not done talking," he stressed. Blair took a step back, "Yeah, we are, actually," and she turned to walk away. "If you walk away right now, we're finished." Trevor threatened. It was as if time was at a standstill, waiting for her reaction. But at the same time, it felt as though time was counting down. Like we were in a competition show. The contestant has to decide before time runs out, while the audience yells, 'DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!' No one was shouting, but you could feel everyone's excitement. Blair's lip curled upwards. "OK. Fine by me." And, finally, she walked off. The people were cooing with excitement again. "Shut up!" Trevor shouted. I grabbed Jujubee by the shoulder and ushered her back. Trevor kicked his locker, the thud echoing through the halls. That was the last straw. Knowing Trevor, he'd take his anger out on us. It was time to flee the scene. It was all Jujubee wanted to talk about for the rest of the day. Now I knew how she felt during my smoke break. But I couldn't blame her. The scene played in my head over and over again, leading to so many questions. Was there more to this breakup? Did he grab Blair like that all the time? What would happen now? Would she find a new guy? A girl, maybe? I came to the conclusion that Blair and Trevor's breakup was neither good nor bad. Bad because, as I said before, now he had more pent up anger from the humiliation of being so publicly dumped. Therefore, Jujubee and I would most likely be subject to more harassment. Good, because maybe Blair did like girls. Maybe there was still some little chance for us to be together. But if we were going to be together, there was one issue; I still had no fucking idea how lesbian sex worked. Cut to later that night, I'm in my room, sitting in front of my computer. I needed to distract myself from my thoughts of the breakup. While the scratchy dial-up tones emitted the machine, I psyched myself up. Even though I knew sex was normal to learn about at that age, it was still daunting. With shaky hands, I searched 'lesbian sex'. And fuck was it a mistake. What I wanted was educational articles, guides, etc. And what I got was porn. I watched all but a few minutes, all the painfully bad acting scenes that took place before the main event. Upon hearing the first moan, I clicked out as fast as I could. Looking behind me, Piggie was just playing with a stuffed animal on my bed. "You saw that, right?" He looked at me with perked ears. I still felt judged, so I opened my bedroom door and let him out. I needed to be exact. 'How do lesbians have sex?' And Brianna Caldwell was never the

same. My mind was opened that night. This was no mistake. This was a surprise. I couldn't look away from the computer screen, no matter how slow the Internet connection was. All of this information was all too much but not enough at the same time. And it made me feel less nauseated than I felt after watching that stupid video in class. And I built up the courage to go back to that porn site. And I watched every damn second. Then I watched another one. And another. And just one more 'cause why the fuck not? My bedroom door opened. "Brianna, I'm ordering - -" "Get out," I shouted, closing the site down like my life depended on it. But she stood there for a few seconds, eyes wide and hand still on the door frame. "Honey, are you - -" "Mom, oh my god. Can you just - -" I couldn't even form a proper sentence. She gave an apologetic look and closed the door. But she remained on the other side. "I just wanted you to know that I'm ordering pizza for Grandpa and me. Do you want some?" My forehead was in my hand now. "Yes." "What kind?" "Just…" I wanted to shout, "Pepperoni." And with that, she left. But that wasn't the end of it. When the food arrived, I waited a few minutes before going downstairs to grab a few slices. Grandpa was in the living room watching an old rerun of The A-Team. But she was there, in the kitchen, as if she was waiting for me. "Honey, look. I know you're getting to that age where you're curious about certain things and - -" "Mom, no. Please, don't do this." I whined. "I know. I know. I just wanted to let you know that this is natural, and…" she continued to deliver the same talk we all got in class. My eyes were wide, face red with humiliation. -_-_-_- 2020 I picked up a slice of pepperoni pizza, instantly reminded of the traumatic event. OK, maybe that was too strong of a word to use. But of course, you are going to dread the thought of that time your parent talked to you about sex. I walked into the living room, pizza slice in hand, trying not to dwell on the memory. "So, Brianna. Any update on the love life?" Tamisha asked. I loved that bitch; being one of Mom's closest friends, she was present for most of my life. But she always had a tendency to ask questions I wasn't up for answering. I took a bite from my pizza and answered with a full mouth, "dry." "Girl, you're almost 40." She continued. I was ready to challenge her because I was actually just 33 when Mom took her turn to speak. "Yeah, get yourself a man and make me a Grandma already." She wasn't serious. She knew I hated these types of talks, but that didn't stop her from encouraging the others. The funny thing about the time she caught me watching porn, she never clocked it was girl on girl. Of all the years I've been on this planet, I hadn't given her a clue that I was a lesbian. Would I ever tell her? I didn't see the point. From previous failed relationships and being too busy with my job, I wouldn't end up with someone anyway. But of course, I'd make an exception for a certain someone. Monét poured the first round of shots. I already knew I'd hate myself the next day. I wasn't drunk already. Just sort of buzzed. But that changed within an hour. I was hammered. Mom, Monét and all her friends were singing all the old songs in the living room. I was out in the kitchen, trying to drink 8 glasses of water. I only managed 3. Piggie ran in and put his paws up on my knee. "There he is. My baby. My fucking son." I slid down to the ground and let him sit in my lap. "How is your night going?" Just great, Brianna! Anyway, how about that Blair girl, huh? Piggie's non-existent voice said. "Oh yeah," my eyes narrowed. I unlocked my phone and opened up Facebook. And I bravely searched up her name. I say bravely because it does take some balls to go and stalk your crushes social media accounts. All it took to fuck everything up was the slip of a finger, and before you know it, you've liked a post or sent a friend request. "Let's do some digging, Piggie." I cuddled him. Immediately, she was the top result, with Jujubee

being the only mutual friend. "Yeah, girl. Infiltration." I commented as I clicked into her profile. And then her profile picture. "Holy shit." She hadn't aged. She still looked as young and radiant as she did back in high school. "What do you think, Piggie?" I showed him the screen. He glanced at it before tucking his head under his arms. The enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes. I looked at her info. 'Single'. Promising. Scrolling down to her timeline, I noticed she didn't post a lot. Fair enough. Facebook was becoming a dead site in recent years. There were just your average Facebook posts, sharing giveaway posts, a post from an old lady saying, 'Blair, this is Granny. Could you go to Walmart and get me some applesauce? Love granny xx', a shared post from a guy called George Miller. And my finger stopped scrolling upon seeing Blair holding a baby. "Oh God, we've encountered our first obstacle, Piggie," I whined. I clicked into the comments. That George Miller guy commented, 'congrats, Blair!' She replied, 'thank you, but she's my cousin's lol'. "Thank you, Jesus." I put my phone down for a moment to put my hand up to the good lord. I scrolled some more, seeing many inspirational quotes, a link to Adore You by Harry Styles. And a picture of her. With that George Miller guy. With his arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her temple. I could feel my heart sink the more I studied it. Yeah, I knew Blair and I were never meant to be anyway. But it was still upsetting. Relax. They could be friends. Yeah, that's right. Friends hold each other and act all affectionate, right?? I cuddle with Jujubee sometimes. That doesn't mean anything. Right? I needed evidence, just anything, to make it not true. I scrolled some more. There was a video, she was sitting on her sofa, with a girl playing the guitar sitting on the other end. "I've been running races on empty, Pour it up 'cause my cup so empty. Gotta make time for the real me. I've been running, I've been running on empty." And my nerves were settled again. I had only heard Blair sing a few times. She and her friends would pretend they were famous singers in early elementary years, and she'd always be the best. Then another time was in high school, at the winter talent show. I specifically remember it being A moment like this by Kelly Clarkson. It was unreal. 'Jujubee 💋💅🏽 is typing…' I clicked into Snapchat before she even had a chance to type the whole message. "Do you remember Jujubee?" I asked Piggie. Again, he was silent. 'I hope you're having fun, babe ❤ lv u'. "Thanks," was all I could manage to type. A shadow cast over me. I looked up to see Monét join me on the ground. "Hey, girl." She greeted me. "Hi, Aunt Monét." I smiled. Piggie hopped off my lap and onto hers. "Aunt Monét? Honey, you haven't called me that since middle school." She smiled. I returned the smile, only mine probably looking goofy. "I'm just wasted." "I noticed. No more shots for you anyway." She noted, taking a drink from her own bottle. "Anyway, how's the project?" "We got fucking Ed Sheeran involved." I then cursed myself internally for bringing it up. "I heard. Your Mom was telling me. Ugh, girl, why him? Why not someone like…" she paused to think, "like Beyonce. Or Lady Gaga." "OK, man-hater." I quipped, reaching over to pet Piggie. "Not true. Not all men are bad." Monét pointed out. "Speaking of which, when are you getting yourself one?" I could have given her the usual 'I don't have time for men's talk. But the alcohol said no. "Monét, I like girls." And I felt no shame in saying it. A moment of silence fell between us before she asked, "for real?" "Yeah." I nodded. "Does anyone else know?" "Yeah. Juju. And Piggie probably." I replied, leaving one more name out for the sole purpose I didn't want to get into that. "And Mom?" "Nope." She nodded. "I guess this is one of these aunty-niece confidentiality things?" "Uh-huh." I smiled. Bless Aunt Monét. "Well, no matter who you live, we still love you." She laughed for a moment before taking another drink. I knew

she was right. Maybe coming out to Mom wasn't such a bad idea. "You know what, Brianna?" She paused, "Grandpa would be so proud of you, right?" My smile slowly began to drop. Fuck, the touchy subject. "Oh, I...thanks." I thought the change in my mood was hard to miss, but Monét clearly had. "You and I ain't ever talked about him since...you know." "OK," I said quietly, feeling like my chest was a fist, beginning to clench tighter and tighter. "And sometimes, it's just good to look back on - -" "I gotta go." I quickly stood up, feeling the dark fog already come over me. I rushed from the room, my aunty calling my name and apologising. I avoided going into the living room, rushing up the stairs and racing for the bathroom. As soon as the door was locked, I let myself crumble, my face hidden beneath shaking hands, a cry clogged in my throat just begging to belt out. Mom would definitely hear it. I wasn't going to ruin her day. Absolutely not. Tags: rpdr fanfiction // s10 // as5 // miz cracker // jujubee // blair st clair // blair x cracker // denali foxx // rose // fluff // coming of age // hurt/comfort // lesbian au // highschool au // grinder // tw grief // tw homophobia [Cover image here] AN: Hey, guys! I hope yall are enjoying this fic so far! Throw me a like please if you do. TW for this chapter: Grief // Homophobia [read more] 2003 High School. The bane of my existence. Just as I thought elementary and middle school were terrible, High School really was something else. From my childhood therapy sessions, I learned to conceal my anger, avoid freakouts, and channel my emotions into other things. It was good for me, yeah. But it also made me a more reserved person. Things still made me angry, the other kids at school being a primary key to that. But I never defended myself. Ever. Of course, Jujubee always had my back. Only in later years did I learn to appreciate the times she'd yell at the other kids, telling them to fuck off and whatnot. But back then, I wished she hadn't. It only drew more negative attention. All I wanted was to get through those tough years. I would come home a lot, look at pictures of myself as a child. And I'd be so mad because only then did I see that I wasn't an ugly kid. I was adorable. But, God clearly had favourites 'cause puberty did not do me any favours. If only I had grown up in a more modern time when no one gave a shit about looks. When people were outspoken about the cruelty that came with shaming someone for their looks. When people were more aware of the psychological damage that could do. Again, God had favourites. From years of my eyesight getting worse and needing a new pair of glasses every time I went to the eye doctor, I had thick-rimmed frames that made me look straight out of the 70s. And the lenses made my eyes look huge. I looked like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. My hair was bigger but full of split ends due to lack of giving a shit about it. I begged Mom to let me bleach it blonde. She always straight up refused. I had braces for a whole year which, yeah, many people had braces, but one time while answering a question in class, I drooled. And no one let me hear the end of it. And makeup wasn't something I really fucked with. I tried it once, safe and sound in my own bedroom, and it looked woeful. Instead of working to get better, I accepted defeat in that I would always be ugly. "I'm serious, girl. The foundation was so bad. And it was too dark." I ranted to Jujubee as we headed to the bus stop. I was trying to smoke my cigarette as fast as I could before getting there. Mom never knew, and what she didn't know couldn't kill her. Of course, I didn't just go into the store and buy them myself. Instead, I took one a day from my Grandpa's supply. "Girl, you gotta test it first." She pointed out, adjusting her bag straps. "Juju, I got the lightest colour they had. I don't fucking get it. Every other girl in the school uses it. Maybelline shouldn't sell this shit." "You just need to find a different brand." She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me

closer, "OK, don't tell my Mom, but I tried some of her MAC shit the other day, and my skin looked fucking flawless." She let me go, took my cigarette from me, taking a toke herself. "Well, how am I supposed to get my hands on that?" I took the cig back. "I don't see any MAC stores around here." "Oh, yeah? Well, you know what your Other World self would do?" Jujubee's brow raised, a sweet grin appearing on her mischievous face. "She would say fuck school, hop on the next bus to Cleveland and go straight to the MAC store." Blowing out some smoke, I looked at her, "Well, Other World you wouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour." "No, she wouldn't 'cause she'd be the first on the bus." Jujubee countered. "And she'd start the sing-song." "Yeah, well other world me would out-sing you 'cause she's a star. She's a fucking diva, bitch. Mariah Carey has nothing on her." We were too caught up in our fantasy world; we almost missed the vehicle driving past us. Only when we saw the cackling faces of the boys at the back of the bus did realisation take over. We were going to miss the bus. "Fuck." I uttered, watching the guys still flipping us off as they moved further and further away. To make matters worse, a car pulled up beside us. And of fucking course, it was Trevor Preston, the Captain of the football team. His two sidekicks were in the back seat, Logan and Noah. "Aw, look, guys. The geeks just missed the bus." Trevor fake whined. In these situations, I just shut down. I thought it was for the best at the time, but fuck, if I could go back and punch that guy. "You know what? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Trevor?" Jujubee squinted her eyes at him. “Wow, little fiesty, Juju.” He continued, "How about this? We all say sorry, and we can both ride with us to school." 'Hell fucking no.' I thought. "Oh yeah? And what's the catch?" Jujubee raised a brow. "You let me feel your tits," Trevor smirked, his two cronies snickered. "Ah, there it is. I thought that was what your pea-sized brain would come up with." Jujubee nodded her head. "So, hey, Brianna," Trevor shifted his attention, "You're awfully quiet. Don't I at least get a hello?" I was still frozen, feeling my anxiety brewing within. "Dude, don't be so sensitive. You know, if she opens her mouth, she'll just drool all over herself." Logan added, the three axe wounds beginning to snicker again. I felt like I should have at least opened my mouth to prove them wrong, or maybe spit on Trevor's car. But still, I just stood there. "Trevor, if you don't fuck off right now, I'm gonna key your car." Jujubee threatened. "Juju." I tried to stop her. "Wouldn't even have the chance, sweetheart. Either of you bitches come near my car; you'll never walk the halls again." How gentleman-like, threatening two girls. Funny how our safety was the price to pay for a car. Oh, men. "Keep that in mind," Trevor concluded before driving away with dumb and dumber. "You didn't have to do that." I looked at Jujubee. "I'm sorry they're such assholes." She replied, taking my hand in hers. I shook it off, however. "No, I mean, I wish you wouldn't do that." Jujubee crossed her brows, "what? So I'm supposed to sit there and just take it? No fucking way." "I know. But," I paused, "they kinda scare me. You know?" "Brie, there's nothing more pathetic than a man sweating over the safety of his ride." She retook my hand, "Don't be afraid of a cunt like him." "I mean, I can try not to. But I can't make any promises." I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the plan? How are we supposed to get there on time?" Jujubee was silent for a moment before replying with, "my Mom?" Her Mom did end up giving us a ride, much to my dismay. I would have preferred to take the day off. Or better yet, to just fucking drop out altogether. But Jujubee was always there to reassure me - I adored that bitch. I would have fucking taken a bullet for her. I would like to say that it wasn't just Jujubee and me, that we had a group of more friends. But these guys, I never really counted them as

friends. A year prior, we both decided to try and improve our social lives by joining a club. The only one that would accept us was the chess club. Every other member was a guy, and they were nerds. Not that Jujubee and I minded. However, the problem was that they only let us in because...well, do I even need to explain? "So, Brianna," Jimmy decided to approach me at the end of one session, licking his hand and sweeping his hair from his face. "Because I beat you twice today, what do I get?" "...Excuse me?" "My prize. What do I get??" He put an arm around my shoulders. I was puzzled, "Uh, you can have my chicken nuggets at lunch." His grin was beginning to disappear. "Oh, I was thinking of something else. A kiss, maybe?" I felt bad for doing it, but my fight or flight response told me to just run from the room. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but these guys were just on another level of thirst. And it wasn't just me who they flirted with. Jujubee had informed me of a time Arnold convinced her to make out with him. She was all for it until she realised how awful of a kisser he was. And as the boys became more desperate, we decided that we were better off alone. Again, I was so grateful for Jujubee. I was surprised she stuck around, considering she had seen me at my worst when we were still so young. How the fuck had she not developed issues of her own? Jujubee was the number one reason I even found the strength to just get up in the morning, drag my ass to school, and do my work - Well, aside from wanting to get good grades so I could go to a good college. The second reason? Blair. Unlike me, she was thriving. Our lives were totally cliche - me being the kid who grew up to be the nerd who only speaks when it's to answer a question. And Blair, growing up to be the head cheerleader. And I was still very much in love with her. What a fucking cliche. I avoided Blair at all costs for several reasons;

differing social circles (in my case, lack of),

her boyfriend, who was the Captain of the soccer team and wasn't shy about giving me and Jujubee grief,

her friends,

and, of course, my massive crush on her.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #denali foxx #rosé #fluff #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #high school au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw grief #tw homophobia

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rocknrollmj · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday Part 2

A/N: I finally found a way to write this down, I hope that you like it. This isn’t my return to writing per se but I figured that you deserved a part two. Happy season 2 release day.

TW: mentions of death, not super serious.

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“Where’s Y/N?” Five asked. That question made the kitchen fall silent. No one dared to speak of their late sibling that they had all loved so much. The silence was deafening but it gave Five his answer.

“Oh, I see.”

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Vanya was the one who found him, staring at the portrait of himself that Reginald had requested 1 month after he left.

“Well nice to know that dad didn’t forget me.” He was trying to lighten the mood but it seemed as though it wasn’t possible. The two chatted for a while until they got to the subject of Ben.

“Was it bad?” He asked, Vanya nodded and he sighed. Two of his siblings were dead. Two of the sweetest, most kindhearted people in the universe had died. It wasn’t fair. He always knew that death never was fair, and he had grown to accept that, but not this time.

“Vanya, what happened to Y/N.” It was not a question, it was a statement. A demand for the truth about his siblings demise, there was no way to avoid it this way, she had to answer.

“They were down in the subway station late at night, there were two men fighting, Y/N was always a good mediator but it didn’t work this time.” Vanya’s voice became more and more shaky, she couldn’t look Five in the eye.

“They tried t-to stop them, but the o-o-one guy had a knife and he- he.” The words began to fail her, and they came out in the form of tears. Five was shocked, but he wanted more.

“What happened?” His tone slightly more dangerous.

“After the… after the knife what happened Vanya?” Through a pouring of tears she managed to get through the rest of the story.

“He realized what h-he had done and-and they both bolted, before anyone could catch them. Y/N tried calling for help but it was too late, he stabbed them j-just below their heart. The paramedics found them 15 minutes later, b-but they were gone.”

“We all searched for weeks for answers, leads, evidence, anything that we could find. But even between dad’s resources and Diego’s friends at the precinct, they had disappeared. Diego was so upset that he threw a staple gun at the police chiefs head, he nearly got arrested again.” Vanya’s tears had subsided for now, she gave a little chuckle at the end of her sentence, she knew that it was no laughing matter but she needed Five to know that they had tried to avenge you. That they had tried to find the man who killed you, because she knew that right now Five was angry. That he already had 5 different plans to find your killer and the bystander and make them pay for taking your life away before it had even begun. And she was right.

When she finished recounting the story she felt like she was going to collapse into a puddle. Those few months after your death were some of the hardest the family had gone through. Even though they hadn’t all spoken in years, you were always there for them. Sending them birthday presents or offering a shoulder to cry on.

You were there when Diego decided he wanted to try and get into the police academy, and you were there the first time he was arrested to bail him out. You were there when Luther was freaking out because he was going to the moon and was scared that he might not make it back. You were there when Allison announced her pregnancy to the world, she was so excited to be a mom and secretly planned to make you a godparent.

When Klaus first overdosed you were at the hospital by his side, praying that some part of his powers still worked despite all the drugs he had taken to get into this state in the first place. You were there at Ben’s funeral, you gave the most beautiful eulogy, everyone was focused on you and your words. You were there when Vanya asked you to go to her first therapy session with her, and you were also there when she first released her book.

Five of course didn’t know that any of this had happened, but even when you were kids you were there, whether he needed someone to rant to, read with or laugh with. You were there. And now you were gone. He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

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After hearing about what happened to you he climbed the stairs to retire back to his room. He was angry, sad and alone. The last time he felt like this was when he realized he was stuck in the future, he felt stuck all over again. He knew that the apocalypse was coming, you were going to be the first one he told, but you weren’t here.

He opened the door to his childhood bedroom, everything was the same except for a pile of very old wrapped objects. He furrowed his brow, confused and walked into the room, closing his door. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed one of the objects, there was a small note on it, it read:

‘Happy Birthday Five! Love, Y/N 2014’

His heart nearly stopped when he read those words. These packages were all his birthday presents for the last 17 years, well 17 years for you. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a very old and very tattered bracelet with a little 5 on it. He had hidden it away in case he had lost it on a mission or worse, The Commission found it and tried to dispose of it. He found the oldest package and began to open the gifts.

17 years of lost memories, gifts that had never been opened and time that he could never get back. But nonetheless he carried on, opening and unwrapping each gift, with care. You had gotten him so many wonderful things and he planned to use (and read) them all.

In 1999 you had gotten him a book on the theory of time travel, in 2003 you had given him an extended copy of each of the Lord of The Rings movies (the note mentioned how they had to binge it together.) In 2010 you had gifted him ‘A Brief History of Time’ by Stephen Hawking, in 2013 he received a book that had a detailed description about Doctor Who for the last 50 years (the note said that “10 and 11 make me laugh the most, but 9 reminds me of you”), he immediately made a mental note to watch all of it after he stopped the apocalypse.

And then he came to the last present. It was a very small box, the wrapping paper had not yet faded as it was only from a year ago. Hands shaking he read the note:

‘Happy Birthday Five! I know that you don’t like stuff like this usually but maybe you’ll wear it for me. Love Y/N”

He slowly tore open the wrapping paper and opened the small black velvet box inside. The box contained a small charm of a book that was on a long chain. He felt his eyes start to water but he refused to let the droplets fall. He took it out and placed it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt. He was never going to take it off.

But he had to do one last thing.

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“Where are they buried?” Five asked getting straight to the point. The siblings, who had all gathered in the living room at this point, were shocked for a second. They had all forgotten how blunt he was.

“Where is who buried?” Luther asked.

“Y/N” again the room was silent, until Diego spoke up.

“Just down the road, in that old cemetery, the one with the creepy ass mausoleum.” Allison rolled her eyes.

“Don’t say that Diego, it’s not creepy.”

“Oh yes it is” Klaus said, suddenly looking paler than usual.

“Fair enough, I’ll be back. There’s something that I need to do.” Five started walking towards the door.

“What about dad’s funeral!?!?” Luther yelled at him.

“I’ll be there don’t worry.” Five responded, and the door clicked behind him.

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He could’ve just teleported there but he wanted to walk. When he arrived at the cemetery, he found where you were and just stopped. Your name was on the gravestone that was right in front of him. You really were gone.

He went down on one knee in front of the rock that had your name chiseled in it and just started talking.

“Hi, I have a lot of things to say but not a lot of time to say them.” He paused, took a deep breath in and then continued.

“Thank you for all my presents, and your notes, I especially loved the one from 2000 ‘Happy Birthday, the bookshop owners now know my name thanks to you and your gifts.’ It made me laugh.” There was silence, he decided to sit down next to the gravestone, and continued talking.

“The world is ending. And that’s not just a figure of speech, the world is literally ending. I came back here hoping to stop it with you and Vanya and the rest of them, only to find out that… you’re not here. You’re not… here.” He felt tears start to well in his eyes, but he kept going, even though his voice was breaking.

“You were always there for me. For us ALL of us. And now you’re gone and that’s not fair… THAT’S NOT FAIR!” His tears had started to pour down his face and this time he let them.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW! YOU’RE GONE! YOU SAID THAT YOU WOULD ALWAYS BE HERE FOR ME BUT YOU’RE NOT! YOU’RE GONE! YOU LEFT ME!” He got so choked up that he had to take a second to calm down, and when he finally did he went on talking to you.

“Although I guess that I deserve it. I was so stupid, and I left you. I left you and you waited, you waited so patiently. Why couldn’t you have waited just a little longer, I was almost there. I almost found a way out, why couldn't you just stay out of it. Why did you have to be a hero? I guess you always were though.” He began to wipe away his tears and he chuckled a bit.

“You know I think that’s the first time I cried in over 40 years? You always brought out the soft side in me. I hated that about you. But you were always a good listener, so… thanks for listening to me now.” He got up to leave, dusting himself off. But before he left there was one more thing he had to do.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you” he could do this, he needed to do this.

“Happy birthday dear… Y/N… happy birthday to you.”

The Boy said goodbye.

@cheesiey @theambracer88

@leilanileemans @noriittheweeb @1985bitch

@lavender-writer @sparklydeanclampalace @emeliecyr @multifandomgirl16 @steampowerednightvaler @the-one-and-only-celine @ahwou @parkersinfinitywar @my-dark-happy-place @hailshurricane @multifxndom-umbrellxs @the-killer-queenie @rosehargreeves @georgique-unique @and-your-mother-that-slut @colourful48 @gabriella-superwholock-universe @give-a-rookie-a-cookie

#allison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #gerard way #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #umbrella academy x sibling fic #umbrella academy fanfic #five hargreeves #number 5 #tua #umbrella academy season 2

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imagitory · 4 years

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D-Views: Muppet Treasure Island

Hi, everyone! Welcome to another installment of D-Views, my on-going written review series for films that fall under the Disney umbrella, as well as those that were influenced by those films! For more reviews for movies like Mary Poppins, Treasure Planet, and The Prince of Egypt, please consult my “Disney Reviews” tag and, of course, if you enjoy this review or any of the others, please consider liking and reblogging!

Today’s film is one of my childhood favorites, starring a cast of some of my favorite people, as well as frogs, pigs, and even whatevers. This is Muppet Treasure Island! (Thank you for your votes, @the-alexandrian-alchemist, @silvvergears, @extremelybears, @livinlifelikeishould and @karalora!)

Ever since 1976, the characters of the Muppet Show have been American pop culture icons. The show itself won a total of 21 Emmy nominations and four television awards over its long run, and by 1990 its cast had also starred in several critically acclaimed films (The Muppet Movie, The Great Muppet Caper, and The Muppets Take Manhattan) and the very popular animated TV show Muppet Babies. And all of that wouldn’t have been possible without the Muppets’ creator, Jim Henson.

Like at the Walt Disney Company, the loss of their leader in 1990 hit Jim Henson Productions very hard. One silver lining, however, is that just like with Walt Disney, Jim Henson was memorialized not just by the characters he created, but by his many achievements and the many friendships he’d made in life. He received a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame alongside Kermit the Frog; was inducted into the Television Hall of Fame; earned a memorial in his hometown Hyattsville, Maryland; was posthumously named a Disney Legend; was the focus of the heartfelt TV special The Muppets Celebrate Jim Henson; and was laid to rest with two formal funeral services complete with performances of some of his favorite songs. And just like the Walt Disney Company, even after the death of someone who meant so much to them, Jim Henson Productions got back up and promised to do more in the memory of their lost leader. Jim’s son Brian Henson took the reins and directed the Disney-co-produced Christmas movie The Muppet Christmas Carol in 1992, before he moved on to their next project and today’s subject, Muppet Treasure Island.

So, here’s the thing -- I have a LOT of nostalgia for this movie. I will be upfront about that. But even with that acknowledged, I was sort of stunned when I found out how lukewarm the reaction to this movie was, when it was released in theaters. Sure, I knew it hadn’t broken the bank, but even if it earned about $34 million worldwide, it received no honors or awards, only hit third at the box office opening weekend behind the movies Broken Arrow and Happy Gilmore, and even now only boasts an average 73% rating at Rotten Tomatoes. Critics at the time criticized how it was more “Treasure Island” than “Muppet”, with Roger Ebert calling it “less cleverly written” and Gene Siskel even more coldly deeming it “boring.” Although I’ll readily acknowledge that reading those reactions makes me want to run outside and scream “FUCK YOU, GENE SISKEL” at the top of my lungs, I promise to give a more rational review of this movie instead, one hopefully that acknowledges any possible shortcomings, but also will celebrate this film and how completely NOT boring it is.

One of the best things about this movie hits us in the face right off the bat -- the music, written by scoring giant Hans Zimmer and Nick Glennie-Smith. As much as I enjoy a lot of Muppet musicals, I attest that Muppet Treasure Island has the most cohesive score overall of any Muppet production. The Muppets were always creatures of the short, sweet vignette -- of the variety show -- of many disparate pieces sewn loosely together into a whole like a patchwork quilt. Even though The Muppet Christmas Carol’s soundtrack comes very close in its cohesion and I would say The Muppets (2011) -- my personal favorite Muppet movie -- is truer to the spirit of the Muppet Show in its music while also paying tribute to old-fashioned movie musicals, Muppet Treasure Island just paints a full-bodied picture from the off-set, building on refrains that return and morph over the course of the picture. From the very beginning, we get that this venture is NOT a standard Muppet movie. Like The Muppet Christmas Carol, the Muppets’ humor will only be part of the story told -- in TMCC, it takes a backseat to sincere emotions like love and redemption, while here in MTI, it takes a backseat to adventure and swashbuckling action.

The score also seamlessly flows into our first song, “Shiver My Timbers,” which just screams “pirate!” I’ve loved pirates ever since I was a little kid, and Muppet Treasure Island was one of the main reasons why. I was okay with Peter Pan, but Muppet Treasure Island was what really got me excited about pirates. They were rough, ruthless, and dangerous, but it was exciting to face off against them in an epic musical adventure, even if your only weapons were a couple of artfully thrown starfish. In the 90′s, pirate films weren’t really “in” -- it wouldn’t be until 2003 with the release of Pirates of the Caribbean that they became popular again -- but I think Muppet Treasure Island, through its music, really embraces the fun, action-packed thrills that Disney would later capitalize on in the Pirates films.

After our prologue, we meet Billy Bones (played by the perfectly cast Billy Connolly) and, of course, our hero, Jim Hawkins, played by newcomer Kevin Bishop. Kevin was the very first of a hundred kids who showed up for the audition to meet the casting agents, and he was selected for the part then and there. Sadly post-Muppets he moved on to stage and television, but for what it’s worth, I quite like Kevin in the role of Jim. He’s distinctly depicted as a boy, complete with a pre-puberty “boy soprano” singing voice (which I acknowledge is an acquired taste, but I personally enjoy), but that characterization only serves to accent how large of an arc he goes through over the course of the film. He starts off as smart, sincere, honest, and dreamy, but also very innocent and trusting, and over the course of the story, he learns to ground himself in who he is and what he believes in, to the point where he has to sever ties with someone he once considered a friend and mentor. Accompanying Jim in his journey are Gonzo and Rizzo, who largely serve as comic relief but do still serve as good friends and companions to Jim, as evident by the three characters’ “I Want” song, “Something Better.” Yes, Gonzo and Rizzo are sidekicks, but they’re still distinct personalities that bounce well off each other and “straight-man” Jim. Originally the filmmakers had considered simply having Gonzo and Rizzo being two characters called “Jim” and “Hawkins” respectively (splitting the part in two, not unlike what they did with Statler and Waldorf in The Muppet Christmas Carol), but due to concerns that the choice would result in a lack of heart in the finished product, that idea was scrapped. I think it ultimately was the better decision to leave the drama to the humans -- it’s not that the Muppets can’t conjure sincere emotion (just look at “Pictures in my Head” or “Man or Muppet”), but I still think having any of the existing Muppets fulfill the “coming of age” narrative the original Jim Hawkins goes through would’ve been a bit of a stretch. Even in The Muppet Christmas Carol or non-Muppet-show Jim Henson production Labyrinth, the main characters with a story arc are played by human actors who are able to ground the picture despite the cast of colorful, irreverent characters.

One of the main criticisms that critics of the time lobbed at this movie is that it feels more “Treasure Island” than “Muppet”, and in a way it’s a decent point, if not phrased very badly. Unlike in other Muppet projects, the humor plays second fiddle to the plot and the characters are not the characters we know from the Muppet Show with their Muppet Show backstories and consciousness. In The Muppet Christmas Carol, the film could very easily be seen as a “production” being put on by the Muppets, even if it’s never overtly stated as such, thanks to Gonzo (as Charles Dickens) constantly breaking the fourth wall. In Muppet Treasure Island, however, Gonzo and Rizzo have their own non-Muppet-show history as friends of Jim Hawkins way before ever meeting the other Muppets like Kermit and Sam the Eagle, and Kermit and Miss Piggy have a whole soap-opera romance that involves a wedding and getting marooned by pirates (we’ll get to that later). So yes, this is more “Treasure Island,” but it’s not less “Muppet” -- it’s less “Muppet Show.” These Muppets have different histories, but they’re the same characters despite this. Gonzo is an eccentric thrill-seeker -- Rizzo is a cowardly cynic -- Kermit is a soft-spoken pacifist -- Fozzie is a lovable dimwit -- Piggy is a self-centered diva. Think of Muppet Treasure Island as a Muppet AU fanfiction -- these may not be exactly the characters you know, and yet...they are! They’re the exact same big personalities with the same quirks, strengths, and weaknesses, just in an alternate universe. And honestly, I think it’s really cool, to see these sorts of characters so exclusively used for comedy in a world that’s not flat-out comedic -- one that’s kind of dirty and rough around the edges, with swashbuckling action and real danger around every corner.

The nice thing is that although yes, the comedy isn’t the central focus anymore, there is still really good humor in this film, a lot of it thanks to the shift in tone. There’s just something so very, very funny to me about Billy Bones’s death scene being followed up by Rizzo, Gonzo, and Jim just flat-out freaking out and dashing out of the room screaming like stupid kids, or the tense action scene where the pirates storm into the inn being punctuated by Rizzo trying to help Gonzo load the gun, only to spill the bag of bullets, or the epic entrance of the illustrious Captain Smollett’s carriage ending with the tall, solemn coachman stepping aside to reveal the Captain himself, played by Kermit the Frog. I think it plays into the ideas of subverting expectations and building up a punchline properly before delivering the joke -- as each scene is built up, we’re left constantly unsure if the film’s going to play things straight or just be completely irreverent, and the contrast is what can make a joke much funnier than in a purely, solely humorous scenario. There are a few points where the contrast can become a bit labored, but I laugh so much more during this movie that I ever have watching my favorite reruns of the Muppet Show, no matter how much I enjoy them. It’s something that, again, the Pirates of the Caribbean films would capitalize on much later. (Too bad they couldn’t incorporate that humor into any catchy musical numbers! Disney, where’s my Pirates of the Caribbean musical?)

Aha, and now we come to the brightest of the shining stars in this film -- our villain, Long John Silver, played by the amazing Tim Curry. I’m sorry, it’s an incontrovertible truth that Curry is a unique, magical ingredient that, when added to any movie, just elevates the cinematic dish to a whole new level and leaves you drooling for one more scene with him. I remember someone once saying that Curry is sort of like a Muppet in human skin thanks to his outrageous, yet likable acting, and...yeah, it makes it so that he fits perfectly in this movie, where he has to interact so closely with the Muppets. The nice thing is, though, that he also has a lot of chemistry with his human co-star Kevin Bishop, to the extent that you sincerely feel for the relationship that forms between Jim and Silver even if you know Silver’s intentions from the start. I particularly like their exchange in the ridiculously catchy “Sailing for Adventure,” as well as their scene at the front of the ship where they discuss their fathers and the stars.

Just as the adventure is getting going, however, it stops dead with the wind’s abandonment of the Hispaniola. Out of nowhere, the ship breaks out into the most ridiculous, most “Muppet” of all of the musical numbers, “Cabin Fever.” The song was one of my favorite parts when I was little and it’s always made me laugh, but it’s definitely the biggest detour of the movie that up until that point lived in its own pirate-centric world. It’s a very short-lived detour and as I said, it’s ridiculously funny, but it doesn’t have any bearing on the plot and I could see how people might find it kind of pointless, particularly since it doesn’t even feature three of our main characters, Jim, Silver, or Smollett. One other critique I will give the film is that some of the effects nowadays don’t look very real, like the Hispaniola being composited over still matte paintings -- there are points where the production values remind me a bit of the old Wishbone TV series, where they have to angle the shot just so or get creative just to try to make the ship look as big as it should be. But honestly, there were points where Wishbone impressed me with those same sorts of layering and green-screen effects despite its limited budget, and those cheaper effects don’t look tacky or out-of-place, so I personally don’t mind them that much.

Because this is a Muppet movie, it’s unsurprising that our Mr. Arrow (played by Sam the Eagle) isn’t really killed, instead just being tricked off of the ship by a manipulative Silver, but it says something that, even with that softened plot turn, the stakes are not completely dismantled. We still see the pirates as a legitimate threat when they kidnap Jim and take over the Hispaniola, even when they burst into song. Tim Curry’s “only number,” “A Professional Pirate,” is a perfect expression of his expert, charming showmanship, which in my mind truly can’t be matched by any other performer in Hollywood, past or present. No one gives a performance like Tim Curry. It makes it so that even when I was a bratty kid getting irritated about Silver calling privateer Sir Francis Drake a pirate and using “buccaneer” as a synonym for “pirate,” I would sing this song at the top of my lungs, trying to even reach 75% of the energy Curry put into his vocals.

At long last, Miss Piggy makes her grand debut as “Queen Boom Sha-Kal-a-Kal,” a.k.a. Benjamina Gunn. Although the diva doesn’t end up getting much screentime, she certainly gets a grand entrance, complete with an elephant steed decorated with flowers and a full musical number complete with a tribal chant and ethereal vocalizing. And true to form, when she lays eyes on her one true love, Kermit...she smacks him so hard that he’s thrown backwards off his feet and into a gong. What’s particularly interesting about Piggy in this movie is that although she and Fozzie are voiced by Frank Oz as always, both she and Fozzie were actually puppeted by Kevin Clash, as Oz was unavailable during this film’s production, and Oz’s vocals for both characters were added in post-production. Despite the difference in puppeteer, however, both characters are just as likable as ever -- I’d honestly had no clue that they weren’t performed by the same person! The film even got to use the full-bodied remote-controlled puppets for Kermit and Piggy for the love duet “Love Led Us Here,” which is kicked off by an Evita joke I never got as a kid but as an adult makes me grin like a friggin’ idiot. Fortunately the duet is inter-cut with Silver and the pirates finding the treasure, rather than it being chock-full of romantic flashbacks or prolonged looks between the two lovebirds, giving it a lighter tone than it would’ve had otherwise.

With a much reduced crew comprised only of Rizzo, Gonzo, Squire Trelawney, Dr. Honeydew, Beaker, and the newly returned Mr. Arrow, Jim comes to Benjamina and Smollett’s rescue and returns to Treasure Island to face Silver and the pirates. The action scene is full of humor, but because of the world established in the rest of the film, I would argue it still has stakes. The blows still hurt and there’s still a threat of defeat and danger, most notably when Long John Silver prepares to fight. Even if you don’t think the Muppets are going to die persay, you still feel the suspense in wanting to see what’s going to happen next. And when Silver surrenders, he himself can see the real treasure Jim found on his adventure -- a family...a group of people Muppets who will support him and encourage the very best in him.

Silver’s escape scene is a beautifully heart-wrenching scene -- one that could only have been earned by two excellent performances over the course of the film by Kevin Bishop and Tim Curry. Even though both Silver and Jim know that they’re different people and they could never walk the same path, it doesn’t mean that they don’t still greatly esteem and care about each other. In Jim’s case, it’s especially difficult, given that in parting ways with Silver, he has to cut loose of a very poor potential father figure who would’ve only dragged him down in the long run, but who was so likable in his own damaged way. It proves to be a very bittersweet scene sprinkled into a very happy, cheerful ending, complete with the chipper island-inspired end credits bop “Love Power.”

Muppet Treasure Island is -- in my opinion, at least -- one of the best Muppet movies ever made. It broke away from quite a few Muppet conventions, like the characters breaking the fourth wall and being aware of themselves being in a movie or TV show, and embraced a much less humorous tone in both its writing and cinematography. Yes, it reimagined a classic book like The Muppet Christmas Carol did, but this movie took the next step, embracing the world of the original novel as well as the set-up and immersing the Muppets’ cast of characters in it. Although I can see why some people would be more partial to the original Muppet movie formula and love it a lot myself, I really, really respect Brian Henson and the rest of this film’s crew for taking the Muppets in such a different direction. It was an entertaining, action-packed, funny pirate movie before those sorts of movies became popular again, and it remains my favorite “pirate” movie of all time, as well as my personal favorite incarnation of the Treasure Island story (barely beating out Treasure Planet). I know childhood nostalgia can play a role in what media can give you joy as an adult, but I truly don’t think it’s the only factor here -- it’s also just a really good movie, and I can only hope that more people will consider giving it a chance and have just as much fun Sailing for Adventure as I did!

#d-views #disney reviews #muppet treasure island #the muppets #reviews #opinion #analysis #oh boy here i go #brian henson #tim curry #kevin bishop #billy connolly

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shock777archive · 5 years

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I got this question on deviantart, and I felt like reposting my answer here, in case anyone is interested :P

THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG REPLY BUT BEAR WITH ME LOL When I first started drawing/am I self taught : I've been drawing since kindergarten. Anime specifically, since I was about 8 years old. so that's been uh...18 years since I've started drawing in the anime-esque style? I am self taught on these areas. I picked up a digital artist tablet at the age of 13 or so, (it was a wacom Graphire 4 4x5 in) so it's been 13 years of digital art practice i've gotten in. I have picked up several how to draw books over the years until i surpassed some of them. But even now i'm constantly referencing tutorials and poses, looking for ideas and color palettes, etc. I have taken some schooling in college for art. I took beginner's drawing and color theory and maybe a little of art history but that's about it before i quit lmao What inspired me to draw in the first place/what I first drew: The thing that inspired me to draw in the first place was my favorite cartoons. from a very young age i knew that cartoons weren't real, but it fascinated me that actual people could create almost living people. I related to cartoons, and even though they were fake characters, I just loved the idea of creating a whole world of my own. So I took up drawing in kindergarten. First things I drew were flowers, rainbows, trees, etc. But My first biggest undertaking was powerpuffgirls. lol This was the series that started it all. Began drawing tons of powerpuffgirls stories and oc's. For the next few years I would watch different things like all the standard cartoon network shows. But I watched yugioh and dbz and other anime things too. What also got me into anime art style was the online game neopets lol Their faeries designs ( http://images.neopets.com/games/pages/icons/screenshots/586/4.jpg ) kind of had an anime resemblance, so I started drawing those for a while. When I was 8 or 9 years old my father bought me my first how to draw manga book (this one in particular: https://www.amazon.com/Art-Drawing-Manga-Ben-Krefta/dp/1841931713 ) looking back on it, this book is terrible and the anime in it is so ugly looking lol. However, i used that thing religiously and began making my own characters like a blue elf girl and a human friend of hers. ( in fact, here's the post. i tried redrawing them recently lol: https://shock777.tumblr.com/post/145898896143/finding-old-art-is-the-best-cause-you-can-redraw ) ...Then the real transformation began once I started watching Teen Titans when it aired in 2003. I was 10 at the time. That show started my love for japan. The language interested me and I began researching Japanese songs and trying to sing along to them. I didn't know what the words meant, but the artistic style and meshing of western cartoons and anime of the show really piqued my interest. My earliest drawings of them suckedddd XD; As Teen Titans drew to a close near 2006-2007 ish, I picked up Naruto and then it was all over since then lol my anime style and weeb days really came into full force lol I thank naruto though. I learned how to draw more realistic anatomy as opposed to cartoony anatomy. It was a very wild ride, but it's all documented here on my deviantart page as I got this exact account around the same time! I started posting my work in 2008, so you can go back far enough into my gallery and see the progress XD; I keep the old cringe up because it just motivates me and hopefully others, to keep drawing and keep going farther! :) PHEW lol long history there XD I do have some of my old art!!! If you wanna see some, I've posted a little here: https://shock777.tumblr.com/tagged/old-art plus I already said there's a few still on my dA gallery haha Tips I can give to you: 1. And I think this is most important, JUST KEEP GOING. It's soooo tempting to quit drawing when things aren't going right and when you're not happy with how your art looks. Trust me, every artist I've ever known including myself have gone through this. It's so easy to compare your work to someone else's. The thing is, we're all in this together. No one expects a newborn to be able to file taxes or drive a car lol. We all have to evolve and change, and that change comes from consistent work. Art isn't an inherent talent, it is hard work that is honed over several years of blood, sweat and tears lmao JUST KEEP GOING. as I've mentioned, my old cringe art is still on my dA page. Back then when I was younger I was less concerned with things being perfect and I spam posted almost every doodle. And I began a "fanbase" i guess because of those days and my consistent posting. I've had this freaking deviantart page for 11 freakin years. If I had stopped drawing whenever I felt my art was imperfect or not good enough, I would have stopped posting around 2009. so...just keep going. And I'd even dare you to post your "shitty doodles" that you think aren't that great. Because you never know what someone else will see in it that you don't. Be confident, and never give up! 2. Soak up any tutorial and really focus on studying your favorite artist's styles. If there's something you want to replicate in your art that someone else is drawing, try to see how they do it. sometimes artists have tutorials posted and sometimes they don't. I have a few posted on my youtube channel ( https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRB9xQBsGpfetNJbmXWZ1fL9d5IlqQs1w ) and some in my gallery. Don't exactly copy some things stroke for stroke, but try to add your little spin to something. Like sometimes I will see art senpai drawing a specific eye style I wanna replicate, but I don't like one part of the process. So sometimes I'll just add my own little addition, or just omit that process completely. Usually though, if the art style isn't necessarily super unique, you can copy a lot of mainstream styles without anyone really griping saying "oh you're just copying so and so's art style". It's important to look up to art senpais i think. They make me want to try harder lol 3. Take an art class if you're able. Color theory really helped me grasp things that I never had before. LIKE REFLECTIVE LIGHT FOR INSTANCE. I never drew that shit but now I do because DUH it's so freaking obvious lol It also helps to learn what colors neutralize others, complementary colors, analogous ones, etc. It's nice to have an eye for what matches together and to know the principles of art. I still have a lot of work to do when it comes to perspective, which we did cover a little in class lol but work on your own pace. If your college near you offers a class for beginners, take it if you're able. it will help you view things differently. 4. Copy realistically. Like, I'm talking look at a freaking object in your room and try to draw it. Once you can draw it semi realistically, you can then add your own little stylistic choices to it. Like so many artists who draw chibis or cartoony things, they more than likely know the proper proportions of people and anatomy. But they draw the proportions all whacky and it creates their own style. However it does help to know how they work in reality lol 5. TRACE OVER POSES. Sometimes I do this. I'm not saying to trace someone's art, but if you see some kind of pose on say a google image, or a stock photo, try sketching over it to get a feel for where the joints connect if you're working on anatomy. It reaaaallly helps you memorize where the arm would end, or where the torso connects to the hips. 6. Take advice and criticism well. If someone sees something you don't about your art, they may be on to something. It's not wrong if someone gives you a heads up that a proportion seems lacking or something seems too big or out of place. It will actually help you to see what others see. Sometimes we get in the habit of drawing something a certain way and it's hard to break that habit especially if you've drawn the same thing several hundred times. It will help you in the long run to just accept that you're always going to be improving. You'll never be perfect at drawing, so what do you have to lose? Just keep walking forward and learn what you can. 7. Flip the canvas. This is more or less a digital art tip, but please flip the canvas to make sure the proportions are not off. lol A lot of professionals have to flip the canvas until they get a feel for where things are placed. Another good tip is to use a stabilizer of some kind to draw straight lines. Paint tool sai has one at the very top of the window. It helps tremendously. 8. Draw what you like and don't feel bad for not drawing everything everyone else likes. Don't sacrifice your morals or your personal desires for something everyone else likes. If you're paid to draw something you don't like, thats another thing. but don't let people pressure you to draw stuff that you don't want to. You'll be much happier, and build an audience that is much like-minded to you. Be considerate of what your audience likes, sure, but remember at the end of the day, art is something to express one's self. Art is not and should not be a job. Even if you get paid money to draw or design things, it's important to take a break and draw something for yourself every once in a while. Be self indulgent, and treat yo self from time to time :) And uhhh...that's all I can think of for the time being. :') let me know if you have any further questions or if I need to clarify anything :) Thanks again!

#me #my art #art tips #long post

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cath-with-a-c · 5 years

Text

Nothing and Everything, 5/7

In which the decision is made

Wordcount: ~2800

TW: implied/referenced homophobia, implied sexual relationship between consenting teenagers

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

2003

Robert huffed, blowing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes and squinted at the car's underbelly. He was trying to fix the suspension for over an hour now, with no luck. Not everyone could be Tony freaking Stark. That was an unforgivable oversight on the universe’s part.

Well, at least he didn’t have to work outside in the sun - the barn was relatively cool.

There was a slight pop somewhere high above and Robert rolled his eyes, focusing on the suspension once again. After a few moments, the faint clatter of the car’s spares scattered around told him that the intruder had reached the ground level.

"This place has a door, you know," Robert called out, grinning.

"Yes, and it's out in the open. Wouldn’t want anyone knowing I’m here," Desmond countered, peering under the car. "May I…" he dropped on his back and slid under the car in one smooth motion, layin himself alongside Robert. "...slither in?“

Rob facepalmed, probably smearing his face with grease and machine oil. "You are taking this Harry Potter shit way too seriously," he accused, half-heartedly.

They've rediscovered the series thanks to Sam and Penny, and Penny, with all her seven-year-old might, had assigned them all houses, picking Hufflepuff for herself, Ravenclaw for Sam and Gryffindor for Rob, because" he looks like a knight, and knights are brave, so there", which left Slytherin for Desmond.

He didn’t seem to mind much, attesting that it suited him, as he was ambitious and cunning, just as his house required. With a hint of dark magic.

That last one? Rob was willing to agree.

Desmond poked his tongue out and hissed like a snake. Ambitious, cunning and an idiot. Rob huffed, trying to hide his laugh, and lightly shoved Desmond’s face away. “Rawr, I guess," he said and snapped his teeth at openly laughing Desmond. “In case you missed it, I'm working. Either help or stay out of the way."

He turned back to the car's underbelly, picking up the wrench. For a couple of moments, everything was quiet and then Desmond's chapped lips found their way under his ear. A shiver tore through Rob's body, pleasant and welcome.

"I told you I'm working," he grumbled, but there was no real heat behind it.

Desmond chuckled in his neck, sound going straight through Rob's blood, making it run faster. "No, you aren't," he said. "You are staring at the ruined suspension with no idea how to fix it."

Well, true. Instead of admitting it aloud, Rob turned his head to shut Desmond with a brief, biting kiss. Desmond relaxed and made a content noise, chasing the kiss when Rob reluctantly pulled away.

"Not here. Someone will see us," he said, placing the wrench under Desmond’s chin to keep him still.

Desmond gave him an unimpressed look. "Who? We're under the car, if you forgot," a crooked half-smile appeared on his lips. “Good luck to anyone trying to lift that bad boy up.”

His eyes were bright, shining in the semi-darkness under the car, lean body pressed against Rob’s side hot and tense. Desmond took him by the hand, lacing their fingers together and brought it to his lips, placing faint kisses to the knuckles.

At this point Rob kind of forgot where his thoughts were headed, the only thing on his brain now was just how to arrange them both in a comfortable way in the incredibly limited space under the car. He dropped the wrench on his chest and tugged his best friend-turned-lover closer, crushing their mouths together to the accompaniment of Desmond’s lewd moan.

When they broke up for air, Rob’s whole body felt on fire, heart beating fast and hard in his chest. Desmond looked positively debauched, messy hair, blush running high on his cheeks, breathing rapid, eyes wide and burning.

This was theirs. Being with Desmond felt so right, every ounce, every moment of it, however sparse and hidden they were. “You are so beautiful,” Rob found himself whispering like it was some sort of a secret, and Desmond laughed, blushing even harder.

“No, you are,” he whispered back and opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped abruptly, at a little creak of the door.

Someone entered the barn. Rob’s breath hitched, heart plummeting and beating somewhere in his stomach. They broke their half-hug, lying side-by-side and staring at the car underbelly, as the steps approached.

“Son, you still there?” the voice called out, and Rob exhaled. Dad. “Oh, hello, Desmond.”

Desmond’s one-sided grin was equally relieved. “Hi, Mr. North,” he replied cheekily. “You don’t sound surprised.”

“You two are practically joined at the hip, I’d be more surprised if you weren’t here,” Dad looked under the car and Robert could only hope his face wasn’t too red. “It’s dinner time, boys. No luck fixing this old thing?”

“Nah,” Robert replied, sliding from under the car first. “I still don’t get how it got so trashed.”

Dad helped him up and gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s okay, son,” he said, eyeing the car. “We’ll have a look at it together later. Come on, food time. You too, Desmond, your mother was looking for you.”

He left the barn just as Desmond got out from under the car. Rob helped him up and for a moment they just stood there, locked hands between them.

Then Desmond stepped closer, squinting at Rob’s face, and cupped his cheek with the free hand, thumb tracing just under Rob’s cheekbone.

“What are you doing?” Rob whispered, breath hitched at the thought of them being almost out in the open, and Desmond gave him another one-sided smile.

“You have grease there,” he explained, and then his face softened. “I love you. You know that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly almost sad. Something wasn’t quite right, but before Rob could comment on how mushy that question was, Desmond leaned forward for a quick kiss, and then for another, deeper and sweeter, before he practically jumped back, licking his lips and grinning crookedly. “I think we should go.”

And, giving his hand one last squeeze, Desmond walked right past Rob, out of the barn, like nothing happened. Robert breathed in and out, slowly, like it could help his racing heart, counted to five and walked out too. He could still taste Desmond on his lips and his heart was beating too fast for it to be healthy. All he wanted to do is go back to kissing his best-friend-turned-lover.

And yet all he could realistically do? Watch Desmond retreat to his own house, shoulders dropping lower with every step, feeling empty as if a dementor was hovering over him. They couldn’t be like Sam and Daria, sucking on each other’s faces in public. Well, semi-public, but still. Couldn’t even hold hands, couldn't hug for too long, because while Brotherhood had no problem with homosexuality as a concept, they still were all expected to have children at some point. And there was no telling how any of the adults would react if they’ve learned about their relationship…

Sometimes Robert wondered if his father knew. What would his father say if he knew? Would he just tell the others? Would he keep it close to himself? Would he disown Robert on the spot? Or worse? And what would happen to Desmond?

Panic started to rise in Robert and he squandered it down, forcefully turning his thoughts to something, or rather someone else. Desmond. Rob pictured the curve of his smile, the way when he laughed he would throw his head back and squeeze his eyes shut. Desmond was… better after they’ve started dating. Less edgy, he was at ease more and laughed more, and his eyes, while still weary, were brighter. Like he made some sort of decision.

Perhaps he was coming to terms with being an assassin. That would be good. Probably.

Honestly, Robert wasn’t sure anymore.

After dinner, Robert completed his chores and was planning on finding Desmond to make plans for the night, but got derailed by Penny, who was put in charge of a litter of puppies for the evening and then promptly lost them.

In the end, they’ve spent almost an hour and a half looking for and herding the pups back where they belonged.

“I guess it’s the last of them,” Robert said, picking up the pup, which whined and tried to lick his face, and putting it back into the paddock to the others.

“Thanks, Robby!” Penny gave him a beaming, if rather toothless, smile and locked the gate. “Wish the magic could work.”

She took a wand from her belt and waved it at the lock, muttering the spell. Robert smiled. “That’s nifty, Pence. Haven’t seen it before, where did you get it?”

“Desmond made it for me,” Penny replied, proudly showing him the complex-looking carvings along the length of it. “Said it was better than the knife.”

Robert nodded. The kids weren’t allowed real weapons outside training, but a lot of them would start wearing wooden knives and daggers by that age. “It sure is more beautiful than any knife I’ve seen,” he told Penny and she beamed at him.

The bell behind them tolled. Once, twice, three times, more, sharp sound cutting through the air, ominous and foreign. Robert froze on the spot, and Penny grabbed at his hand. The bell never tolled in the evening before.

Something has happened. Something really, really bad.

Robert shook his head. “Come on, Pence,” he said, picking the frightened girl up. “We gotta go.”

The otherwise peaceful evening broke into the flurry of action, with everyone flocking to the central hall, adults carrying younger kids, William Miles barking orders like a general. In the midst of it, Robert saw his dad. His face was dark, like a storm cloud.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Robert asked, elbowing his way through.

Father gave him a sad, weary look. “Desmond is gone,” he said after a tiny pause.

The ground slipped away from under Robert’s feet. “What?” he asked again, slowly.

“Maria says his backpack and jacket are gone too,” dad replied, rubbing at his forehead tiredly. “We believe he-”

“Ran away,” Robert finished for him quietly.

Desmond had run away.

His dad’s face softened. “I’m sorry, son,” he said.

“No! This must be a mistake,” Penny looked like she was about to cry. “Desmond is brave! Why would he run away?”

Dad turned to her, smiling sadly. “We don’t know yet, little one. Not until we find him,” he looked back at Robert. “Put the kid down, we will need your help.”

He nodded dumbly and went searching around for Penny’s parents, in the end transferring the protesting girl to her older brother Craig, before joining the others who were organizing into search groups.

Robert and his dad ended up with Maria, searching the eastern side of the hill. It was quickly getting dark, and Mrs. Miles’ cries were becoming more and more desperate with every hundred feet they made into the forest. Robert felt like she was starting to realize something he knew since they were just kids playing tag.

If Desmond is given any headstart, you are not getting him.

“Desmond, where are you?!” Maria cried out once again, looking around frantically, and her eyes were red and watery. This was the most emotional Robert had ever seen her, most human. He was so perplexed by it, he’d almost missed a tiny movement out the corner of his eye, but when he looked back, there was nothing, only a few low-hanging branches, that were slightly rocking with impact.

They’ve searched the hillside until it was pitch dark and even torchlights weren’t enough, so they had to return. William was already back with his group, and, judging by the uneasy look on Colin’s face and the way Daria was standing two steps in front of Sam, questioning had taken place.

As soon as Robert joined the scene, William turned to him.

“Did you know?” he barked out without any preamble, and Robert’s back straightened involuntarily. “Did you know Desmond was going to run?!”

In the unforgiving shine of the streetlight he looked downright menacing, half of the face in deep shadow and the other pale as a ghost, with grey-blue eye almost looking unnatural.

“No,” Robert shook his head, his throat closing. “I swear, he didn’t tell me anything!”

If only he did...

William stepped closer, seething with anger. They were the same height now, but Robert felt so small compared to him. “Hard to believe,” William all but spat, baring his teeth. “Don’t think I don’t know how close you two are...”

Robert had to fight the urge to take a step back. “Bill, stop it,” his dad said from behind him, but William Miles wasn’t listening.

“...and if you think silence will get you off punishment...”

A figure appeared between them. “Leave my son out of it, Bill!” Robert had never seen his father so angry.

William wasn’t backing down. “Do you really believe his shit-”

“Look at him!” Robert’s dad bellowed. “He is shocked! As well as the others,” he exhaled and rubbed at his forehead tiredly. “I’m sorry Desmond is gone, Bill, I really am, but you can’t take it out on everyone else.”

If looks could kill, Robert’s dad would already be dead. Instead, William Miles stepped back, scowling. “I want the car fixed by morning. We will go looking for Desmond in Rapid City,” he said in a clipped tone, turning away from Robert, allowing him to breathe.

Robert’s dad shook his head. “He won’t go there,” he said softly but Bill waved him off.

“I don’t need your comments, Nolan. Just fix the car,” he barked and father nodded.

“Sure,” he replied and clapped Robert on the shoulder. “Come on, son. We have things to do.”

He nodded silently, watching William’s retreating back for a few moments before following his father. They won’t find Desmond, Robert thought tiredly, he probably wouldn’t stop until he is as far away as possible. Probably will keep to the forest too. Desmond was always good at finding his way by compass.

Father sighed. “I wish Desmond had told someone something, anything. Stupid boy,” he shook his head.

Robert didn’t answer.

Morning came, and the car was more or less ready to go. After William and Maria left with a couple of other adults, the buzz started to slowly die out, but the routines were still thrown out of the window for now, with both adults and kids being too wired up to follow the schedule.

Amidst the commotion, Robert slipped out of the house and went to their clearing. He needed… space. The place still looked like it did yesterday, and that was a little bit comforting.

He sat down, opening his stash and mindlessly sifting through it, shifting things around for no reason. What happened was yet to settle in his head and his guts.

It took Robert a few moments to notice that his swiss army knife was missing, and suddenly he wasn’t able to breathe again, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Desmond was gone. He’d ran away. He isn’t coming back, And, even if the adults manage to get him back. Robert was sure he’s going to try again.

Or do something worse.

Choked up, Robert looked up and around the clearing and noticed something else. Desmond’s stash wasn’t closed properly. After a few moments of consideration and battling with himself, Rob went to check.

It was empty, all the painkillers, and food and band-aids gone. There were a few things left at the bottom, - a wooden medallion with a badger carved into it - the Hufflepuff’s house animal; the heavy, carefully wrapped book from a series Robert vaguely recognized being Sam’s favorite, some sort of fantasy that was being written incredibly slowly, he always complained about it.

And the two new Iron Man comics tucked carefully into ziplocks.

No note. Rob expected there to be at least some sort of note.

He took the comics in his hands, not really seeing them. Why didn’t Desmond tell him anything? Should he had guessed it, from the way Desmond stopped questioning things, stopped dragging the Creed every chance he got? Should he? Did he allow his wishful thinking to get in the way?

Did he even mean anything to Desmond?

He remembered the way Desmond cupped his cheek, the way he said “I love you”, and the way his lips moved for a fraction of a second, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Was it “I’m sorry”? Was it “Run away with me”? Was it something else, that had nothing to do with his escape?

He will never know now.

Sniffing angrily, Robert dropped the comics back into the stash and closed it with a little too much force, stomping away from the clearing.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

part 6

ao3 link

#assassin's creed fanfic #Assassin's Creed #Desmond Miles #assassin's creed OC #boys in love #desmond is precious

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 6 years

Text

Crazy, Stupid Love (Tony Stark X Reader)

Part 3 to S.O.S

Summary: After a moment in the lab and a dazed kiss in the bedroom, both of you are brutally aware of the feelings that are beginning to resurface. Inspired by the movie, Crazy, Stupid Love.

Author’s Note: I’ve grown very attached to this series and I love it, the feedback to it blows my mind and it makes me so happy. So I’m writing another and I hope you guys enjoy it, I adore writing it ;) And because (y/n) is Hannah and Tony is Jacob. And I do a lot of rain in my fics but it’s just so romantic. This is set in 2003 ish so Tony is in his late thirties and your in your late twenties. y/fm/d = your favorite morning drink, like tea or coffee, (h/t) hair texture, type, like curly, coiled, straight, wavy, whatever you want :)

Tags: @taylorsreputationn

Song: Writing’s on the Wall by Sam Smith

Warnings: fluffffffffff, some angst, mild swearing, and just super freaking fluffy, PDA

Your legs dangle precariously off the balcony’s edge, a mug of (y/fm/d) in hand, hands wrapped around the cool metal while the wind combs through your untamed (y/h/c) hair. You set your drink down beside you and lean back, hands behind you and holding you up as you gaze out on New York’s sunrise, the one time of day you can really think. No distractions, no interruptions, just you, alone with your thoughts in the orange glow of dawn, signalling the start of a new day.

You bite your fingernails anxiously, thinking back to last night. That had to be a dream, kissing Tony, it was only for a second, but you remember it so vividly. You run your thumb over your lip, searching to find any bit of recollection or evidence in your whirring mind. In your line of work, you’re used to everything going by so quickly, things happening in split seconds, everything is life or death. But lately, these last few days, being back here after years of not seeing him, things have been moving so slowly.

Because now you’re suddenly and cruelly acquainted with this awful feeling in the pit of your stomach. And that brings you back.

~1990~

The day was hot and you remember clearly the nervous sweat between your brow as you were sprinting through M.I.T’s college campus, hopping over bushes like a marathon runner racing for gold. Because you could not be last to your first day of college, not when you’re going to be the youngest one there. Things were already challenging enough. Apologizing profusely and repeatedly when you would bumped into people, and helping a student pick her books back up when you barreled straight into her.

Then it started to rain.

You got to class only five minutes late, but you’re previously styled, curled hair was now damp waves and breathing shallowly with your baby blue dress sticking to your soaked skin. The looks you got are still etched into your brain today, ranging from dirty ones to staring at your now see-through dress and wondering what was hiding beneath it.

The professor looked up at you and took pity on you, letting the tardy slide, something you did not want from a teacher that’s supposed to teach you for the rest of the semester. You wanted respect and to just keep your head down, but after that entrance, you got anything but.

You heard a faint wolf-whistle beside you and were met with the pair of wild eyes and signature boyish grin of Anthony Edward Stark.

“Hey, kid,” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking up at you, narrowing his stare. “I think you’re in the wrong class, you look a little... young to be in here. The elementary school across the street doesn’t start for another few hours,” he laughed and more of his friends joined in, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

You smiled tightly, wringing out your wet hair, “I’m 17 and I graduated early, I belong here just like everyone else. And apparently...” you spoke calmly, casting a look in his direction. “-more so than others.”

After that comment, you swear the whole room went silent, even the teacher was leaning in to watch the heated exchange. No one had ever snapped at a Stark like that, he had money, which bought you friends, made you likable. You were the first to call him out.

He smirked, intrigued, and tilted his head to get a better look at you, “You must not know who I am,” he chuckled darkly.

“No, I do,” you cut him off and he raised an eyebrow, asking for you to go further. “But that shouldn’t automatically get you a get-out-of-jail free card so you can behave like a spoiled prick with daddy’s credit card. Just because you have a wealthy family doesn’t make you invincible.”

That earned you a few shocked gasps from the aisles and your face heats up once again, having put yourself directly in the spotlight and on everyone’s radar. So much for keeping your head down.

His smirk widened into a grin as his eyes washed over your body again, he wasn’t going to argue with you because something told him he wouldn’t win that fight. Not frowning in the slighted, but instead impressed, hooked from that moment on.

“Tell me, new girl,” he licked his lips pensively, sitting up in his seat. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You pinched your brow, wrinkling your nose with that curious smile Tony has always been so fond of, “What does that have to do with anything?”

He continued to stare at you, awaiting your response, lifting his chin, “Answer the question.”

“I’d like to think so, yes,” you answer finally with a low sigh, the class hanging on your every word while you looked at the very attractive, very childish raven haired boy across from where you stood in the aisle. “Why?”

He broke into a lopsided smile and you were putty, “Because now I do,” he said coolly and the cheesy line rendered you speechless as the teacher finally spoke up.

“Okay, I think the two of you have interrupted the lesson long enough, Ms. (y/l/n), please take your seat beside Mr. Stark. Since you two already seem so fond of each other,” the professor said with a hint of a smile and the class lit up like children hearing their parent say a swear word for the first time.

Tony sat back in his seat and tapped the empty one beside him, winking at you while you begrudgingly made your way over, sitting down with your legs crossed and your notebook out in front of you.

He leaned towards you, “You and I are gonna have some fun together, kid,” he smiled.

You met his eyes, tapping your pencil on the table with an impossibly demure smile, “And what exactly is your idea of fun?”

~Today~

“So you like him...” Wanda grabs a handful of popcorn from your bowl and munches on it thoughtfully, pinching her brow and button nose. “And he likes you too. But you’re still afraid to do something about it?”

“He’s my mentor,” you roll your eyes, taking your handful as the rom-com Natasha put on plays in the background, neither one of you paying any mind to it as your lively conversation goes on. “Whatever the hell that means. And he’s... I don’t know, I’m just trying to play it cool. We also don’t know that he likes me, there is no guarantee of that,” you lick the salt and butter from your lips, running a hand through your (h/t) hair.

“Are you kidding me?” Natasha says, eyebrows shot to outer space when she comes over and settles onto the couch beside you, heavily amused by your cluelessness that resembles Tony’s exactly, if not more. “You two might as well have big, bold tattoos of each other’s names drawn in hearts on your foreheads, confessing your undying love for one another, but neither of you can see them and everyone else does.”

“It’s not that obvious,” you say but the two of them immediately share a look with a small nod that tells you otherwise and you throw your hands up in frustration. “Well what do you want me to do, since you two apparently know everything now!” You shake your head, “This kind of thing is hard for me, I suppress emotions not express them.”

“I swear you are the female version of Tony, it’s uncanny,” Natasha rolls her eyes, chin propped in her hand on the arm of the couch. “That probably made it easier for him, falling in love with himself,” her lips curl.

Wanda giggles and you chuckle dryly, “Wow, thanks,” you deadpan, setting the popcorn aside now that you’re stomach is filled with a ball of nervous energy, no longer having an appetite.

“Maybe you could start with telling him...” Wanda offers, raising an eyebrow, shrugging her shoulders while she pops a chip into her mouth. “Just a thought...” she trails off.

“Both of you are dead to me,” you mumble, voice muffled with your face in your hands. “We haven’t even talked since we kissed so-”

Wanda coughs loudly from gasping while chewing and holds a hand over her chest, calming her nerves and breathing, looking at you, “You two what?”

“No need for the dramatics, Maximoff, it was for only a second, he probably doesn’t even remember,” you say. But, oh, he remembers. “It felt more like a dream than it did real life. I was half-asleep and it was... it was an accident. But they were so... and he’s just so...” you groan into your hands, hair falling down your shoulders. “God, I feel like a lovesick teenager all over again.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. You two met in college. Fetus Stark must have been delightful,” Natasha laughs, grinning wickedly.

“You have no idea,” you sigh. “But he’s been avoiding me since and I’ve been doing the same... and it-it’s a mess.”

“It’s not a mess...” Wanda says lightly, attempting at making you feel better about the situation.

You take your face from your hands and look at her flatly.

She frowns, “Okay, yeah, it’s a mess.”

You fall dramatically back into the couch, sinking into the cushions, Wanda and Natasha doing the same, laying down sympathetically along with you, the only way they know how. No arguing, no talking, no anything, just comfortable silence with only each other’s presence, finding something relaxing in staring up at the blue tinted, glass ceiling, as cheesy at that may sound. You couldn’t count the number of days you three would just do this, laying in silence and stirring with your thoughts, a way to show you’re not alone in what you’re going through. Whatever it may be.

You swallow hard and let out a puff of air, “I know what I need to do.”

~~~

Natasha touches up her red lipstick, eyes looking at you from the reflection of the mirror while you sit on the edge of her bed, the bathroom door open, “Are you sure you don’t want to go with us? I think you could use the fun.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, saying for the umpteenth time, “No, I’m alright. ‘Sides, having the compound for once to myself will be... nice, and you know I don’t really do the party thing.”

“Tony’s going...” she trails off in a sing-song voice, raising her meticulously, drawn arched brows, turning to look at you completely. “Does that change your mind?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’. “We’re not attached at the hip, Natasha, let him go have fun, meet... a girl...” you swallow hard, stomach twisting sickly at the thought.

“And you’re alright with that?” she asks calmly, heels clicking on the marble tiles before hitting the carpet of her bedroom floor, looking at you.

“Y-yeah,” you muster up, flashing her a believable smile and standing up. “Seriously, go, I’ll be fine,” you kiss her cheek and she grips your hand, stopping you from leaving.

“We’re at the pub down the road if you change your mind, (y/n),” she says, walking past you, but not without throwing you a smile until you don’t hear the heels anymore, all the door in the compound locked.

You flop back on the bed, a defeated sigh leaving your lips when things begin hitting you all at once. It takes fifteen minutes of you mulling over or getting just the first idea of what you’re about to do, having been planning it all day, the grand gesture to prove to Tony you do like him. That you like him so much. Because even if you two won’t admit it, you two are both hopeless, or hopeful as you like to say, romantics.

Then you got it.

You practically sprint to the coat hanger, grabbing your long, black trench coat, tying the belt around your waist to cover up your silk nightgown you don’t have time to change out of, slipping on a pair of Nat’s sandals, being the first shoes you find. You run out the door, hopping on foot while you zip up the remainder of the sandal and slip into an elevator, looking out while it closes just in time behind you.

The ride seemed as if it was going to last forever as you impatiently tapped your foot, sighing in relief when you finally get to the lobby, bolting out of the revolving door and looking around for a taxi. But, then, just like all those years ago when first meeting Tony Stark, it begins to rain. Almost storming.

You throw your head back with a loud, irritated groan, thinking that at least it wasn’t that far from here before running down the busy sidewalk, weaving your way through the crowds of people, spouting off lazy apologies until you get to the door of the pub, panting with each breath. Closing your eyes and taking a dramatic, deep breath, you twist the door handle and pull it open, stepping inside the bar and immediately setting your eyes on him, talking to a woman who’s touching him way too much but surprisingly, he’s... disinterested.

“Tony,” you say, loud enough over the soft, jazz music playing over the speakers, but the only thing you hear is the blood pounding in your ears, chest heaving.

Steve and Clint whip their head in your direction, both of their eyes wide and curious to what you’re going to do next.

“Tony is in deep shit now,” Clint sips his scotch and Steve gives him his best reprimanding, dad look.

“Language, Barton,” he says, eyes still on you though, smiling despite himself while Wanda and Nat look on like proud moms.

Tony looks up to meet your eyes with you in the doorway, hair dripping with rainwater, looking just as you did ten years ago in that sophomore hall, heart seizing when he puts together that you ran all the way here for him.

He looks you over, eyes slightly wide in disbelief, facing you completely, “(Y/N)... what are you do-”

You walk up to him, determined and eyes fixed on him, one leg in front of the other until you reach him, hands on either side of his face and pulling him into you.

Then you crash your lips against his.

You feel him freeze underneath your gentle touch, mind coming to terms with what you’re doing, eyes fluttering close when he begins kissing you back, bruising and passionately. You inhale sharply when he slowly wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground, your legs behind you as you steady yourself with an arm wrapped around his neck and one still on his cheek. He kisses you like your lips are air and he can’t find his breath, no tongue, no hands wandering, he’s much too smart for that. Just a mind boggling, blisteringly hot, kiss that makes your knees weak and eyes water.

You tilt your head to deepen the kiss and thread your fingers in his dark, inky hair, his grip on you tightening while he kisses you with all the emotions and words he cannot say put into one action.

You’re the first to pull away, reluctantly, as you say, “I like you.”

He smiles boyishly, in his twenties again, his voice hoarse, “I like you, too.” He kisses you once more, murmuring happily against your lips, “So much.”

Your lips curl when you wrap your arms around his neck, tighter this time, finding this feeling and running with it, never letting go.

Wanda and Nat high-five while sipping on martinis, the picture of utmost elegance.

The rest of the Avengers, however, are a lot less civilized, whooping loudly and exchanging money for the bets they put on you two, but you ignore them all, in your own little bubble.

“Did you Crazy, Stupid Love me, sweetheart?” he whispers with a slight smirk.

You smirk back, “Maybe...”

He hums pleasantly, breaking away to get a look at you, “In that case, I have a few other movie scenes I want you to recreate.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask with a small giggle. “Like what?”

His head falls into the crook of your neck as he sets you down, “Later,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone before resurfacing and meeting your eyes sincerely.

He cracks a smile, “Go to dinner with me.”

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