#WELL. That was a fantastic movie. I’m gonna go lie down now. I need to emotionally recover probably | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

witchy-jadda · 3 years

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rott spoilers ahead

so i’ve given myself some time to think about everything and try to process it all and here are some of my thoughts on trollhunters: rise of the titans...

- straight off the bat, i loved the intro. opening with blinky telling the story of what happened up until this point was incredible. i would have loved if they had circled back to this though (i saw someone else say it should have been him telling the story to jim and claire’s kids and i loved that idea!)

- i also liked that they didn’t waste time at the start, instead they just jumped right into the action which was fun.

- honestly, i thought jim’s plotline throughout the movie where he basically thought he was useless without the amulet was just really not fun to watch. i understand why it was there and it played into the climax but i really did not find it one bit necessary seeing as i felt that we have grown beyond that. i felt it was overused. we’ve been there before and jim is aware that he’s the trollhunter, amulet or not.

- douxie being so soft with nari was genuinely one of the most heartwarming parts of the movie. i feel that we were really robbed of so much potential with douxie in this movie though. we didn’t see nearly enough of him. it seemed that the writers were picking and choosing when to remember how powerful he is. switching with nari and connecting to her are two examples of when they actually used his power, but aside from that they just disregarded it a lot.

- and speaking of forgetting how powerful people are... i’m genuinely so hurt and let down over what they did to claire. do they not realise how powerful she is? did they just forget about her character arc? it sure felt like it. she got to use her powers a few times (connecting to nari, portalling the titan, etc) but mostly it felt like she was saying she was spent and therefore unable to do anything. she is so strong and so powerful, and that’s just so empowering - especially for young girls. and then it kinda felt to me that rott was reducing her to basically nothing more than jim’s love interest.

- okay another quick note, it kinda felt to me that krel’s potential was also pretty wasted? he barely did anything and i just think he deserved more too.

- ew okay i don’t even want to think about it but i know i can’t discuss rott without talking about the mpreg thing. seriously, what the fuck was that? at first, i thought it was going to be a joke. i thought aja and krel were gonna wind steve up and see how far they could go with making him think he was pregnant just for a little bit of comic relief. but then he was actually pregnant. and so i laughed, because even though it was dumb it was kind of funny. weird and unexpected, but kind of funny. but by the time the movie was over it just didn’t sit right with me. looking past the fact that it was just more of them making steve’s character into a joke, i couldn’t see the logic in giving so much time to that subplot when other characters (claire, douxie) and other relationships (claire and douxie’s friendship) were sidelined. maybe if he had gotten a whole season the mpreg thing could have been included as comic relief or whatever, but with such limited time i really don’t see the point of wasting so much time on something so pointless.

- speaking of steve, i need to talk about creepslayerz... they really deserved more :( like i get that eli literally helped steve through child birth and then named one after him which was lowkey adorable but i loved their friendship so much and i was really hoping to see more of them. i was kind of hoping they’d get to do more as well. look i gave up on hopes of a romance long ago (even though i still really wished it would happen) but i hoped that at least we’d see some more of their friendship.

* by this point my brain has decided to forget absolutely every point i wanted to make... cue the brain fog (we don’t like her) and allow me to take a moment to read back and try to find my point again *

- i don’t think i can stress enough how much i loved the visuals in this movie. holy fucking shit it was just phenomenal. like wow. the art was absolutely fantastic and i’m really hoping for another the art of... book because i love the art of trollhunters and i feel that they could do with updating it to include the newer stuff. but yep, the animation quality was incredible and i don’t have a bad thing to say about it because just wow.

- speaking of art... a moment of appreciation for character designs. just wow wow wow. we love to see such intricately designed villains. we love to see growth in our other much loved characters. and the locations too? fantastic. beautiful. amazing. loved it.

- another moment of appreciation for jim. the hair. the scars. the injuries. the winter jacket. the fact that he looked a little older.... loved it. loved it, loved it, loved it. i cannot wait to spend hours pouring over reference pictures to draw them all.

- and claire... her armor being weathered and worn. her eyes!! her hair looked great as always. i just love her...

- nari nari nari... my goodness, her magic is so beautiful. i wish we got to see more.

- also, the jlaire moments were very cute. their kisses? so soft. they literally love each other so much. i adore them.

- what happened to the babies from the darklands btw? is not enrique just chilling in the lake’s house with a ton of babies?

- barbara deserved better. i would have liked to see her and strickler happy.

- on that note, why the actual fuck did they think a few explosives would win against magic?? literal ancient magic and these dumbasses were like huh i guess we should blow it up. i’m sorry, what?? y’all are stupid.

* currently trying to think of every possible point that isn’t to do with the ending because i really don’t want to think about that yet *

- the whole thing with archie and charlemagne felt super unnecessary. like usually characters sacrifice themselves and it’s like sad and you can see the reasoning and stuff. but they literally could have gotten out. i really did not vibe with that. it felt like they just did that to leave douxie with no one.

- that trollmarket was beautiful though.

- speaking of trollmarket... they really restored the heartstone just like that? are you joking? i was not impressed at all. the heartstone was dead and gone, could not be destroyed. did they just forget that? half the shit in wizards wouldn’t have happened if the heartstone could have been restored. very pissed off by that. it was dead, that was it.

- okay back to jim... love that he pulled the sword from the stone. it was cute that it was a group effort, kinda would have preferred if it was just him but that’s just a me thing. and maybe me and my daylight tattoo are biased here, but excalibur is not half as pretty as daylight.

- not gonna lie, jim yelling come on trollhunters! kinda got me. i was very emotional watching this.

- i think the most in character jim moment of the whole movie was when he dropped excalibur, he didn’t have his armor, he was all alone and he decided to make a fist and fight the wizard/god with literally no weapon or means of defence. i don’t think y’all understand how much i love this dumb self sacrificing selfless boy. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, he is literally one of my most favourite characters of all time. i love him with all my heart.

- the armor!! wow wow wow. that was a fucking cool scene. beautiful.

- jim getting stabbed or whatever with that fucking spear thing nearly killed me.

- okay here goes... toby. my sweet toby. jim and toby’s friendship is one of my absolute favourites ever. my goodness. and toby getting in the van and going to save jim was incredible and such a toby thing to do. of course he would think of doing that.

- but like seriously... claire and douxie are so fucking powerful and they were both just like lol i guess we can’t do anything to help jim? i’m sorry what?? don’t tell me that claire wouldn’t go full on black and purple eyes and get herself up their to him. i just... i’m so bothered by the fact that they were sidelined y’all :|

- also, do not seriously try to tell me that aaarrrgghh!!! would let toby go on his own. he would have went with him. he would have followed him.

- literally as jim was falling the first thing that went through my mind was oh aaarrrgghh!!! is gonna run up and catch him.

- and while we’re on the topic of aaarrrgghh!!! why tf did they have such a build up that something was going to happen to either him or blinky for literally no reason? wtf

- aaarrrgghh!!! would not have let toby go alone!!! if he had been there, he would have protected toby, he would have saved him and none of that mess of an ending would have happened.

* ugh here’s the bit i was dreading... the ending *

- first off, i am choosing to ignore it.

- time stone? really? we’re... we’re gonna do this? literally one of the most original things i have ever watched is now - at the literal last possible minute - rip off another movie?? really?? whyyyy???

- i literally cannot express how much i hated it. it was so fucking unnecessary.

- he didn’t need to go back that far!!!

- i’m actually trying to block this out but i suppose i have to at least touch on it. jim would never ever put that burden on to toby. he just wouldn’t. before even looking at all of the other issues with toby getting the amulet, i need to say that. it just wouldn’t happen. he struggled so much with being the trollhunter, he wouldn’t put that on toby.

- also toby literally never wanted to be the trollhunter?? he never wanted the amulet? he wanted to be a duke and have his war hammer and go on adventures with his best friend and his wingman and eat mexican food.

- okay so um i guess they all just forgot about unbecoming? cool cool cool.

- seriously though, was it not established many times that jim literally had to be trollhunter? and if he wasn’t it would be draal and everything would go to shit? did they just forget about that??

- having jim just decide to give toby the amulet literally takes away from the entire meaning behind jim getting the amulet and becoming the trollhunter. the amulet chose jim. merlin chose him. out of all of the creatures in the world, it had to be jim. he can’t just give that to toby!!

- and as much as i love toby, he would not last a day as trollhunter.

- and that’s not even beginning to mention all that jim erased by not becoming trollhunter. no father son relationship between him and blinky. they didn’t stop steve from picking on eli so no steve redemption and no creepslayerz. is he just going to allow enrique to be taken? toby will not have the same incentive to go into the darklands to save him if that’s the case. strickler will not show any sort of sentiment towards toby either. and then the big one...

- IS THAT FUCKER REALLY GOING TO ALLOW CLAIRE TO NOT GET HER POWERS??? WHAT???

- if jim isn’t trollhunter and the whole thing with enrique doesn’t happen then claire will never get her shadowstaff. let’s be real, strickler probably wouldn’t even need angor rot with toby as trollhunter. somehow i can’t see him making it that far...

- if claire doesn’t have her shadow staff then the whole thing with morgana won’t happen. she won’t destroy the shadow staff and then she will never develop her powers. would jim really rob her of that?

- okay i can’t do anymore, it’s too much for me now...

- i touched on this already in a separate post but i gotta say it again... i did not enjoy the destiny is a gift bit at the end. first of all, jim having toby find the amulet literally takes the meaning of that speech and his destiny away instanty. and second, i just could not stand hearing emile hirsch say the words that belonged to anton yelchin. it was just uncomfortable.

aaand i think i’m done. maybe i’ll have more later but i have a headache now from all of this.

#rott #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #rott spoilers #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski #blinky #aaarrrgh #wizards #toa #douxie #rise of the titans #trollhunters spoilers #trollhunters rise of the titans

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sirsleeps · 3 years

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typical occurrence pre-movie nights. | sbi & gn!reader

Hi 😈 anon!! I hope that this satisfies all of your conditions, and that there were enough sbi chaos for you…. though I think I stuck to Mr Blade a bit too much (to which I’d just like to apologize for :(() thanks again for requesting this! It’s been a lot of fun writing it (though I’m not gonna lie, the movie of choice really gave me so much freedom I really couldn’t choose which hence) hope you enjoy the fic! :D

request: [by 😈 anon] “Hello! Do you think you could do a SBI x Gn! Reader! The SBI have a movie night and invite the reader! You can do any type of movie! (Maybe a horror one!) I just think it would be chaotic! You can do a one shot, Hc, or small scenarios! Whatever you want to do!”

pairing: sbi & gn!reader

warnings: swearing, potentially ooc sbi, not beta-read

word count: 1.4k

There were a few unspoken traditions that took place every Friday evening.

It was a time where everyone within the SBI family would put down their work and rest to get together for their weekly movie night. Whether they were far away from home, busy with work, or doing some laborious, mundane task, their chores would be held on pause for that evening. And if, for some apparent reason, one is unable to physically attend the gathering, then they would all host it on a computer so that one could watch along.

As per usual, (name) was in charge of bringing the drinks to the weekly movie night. This was typically because (name) didn’t live with the formerly mentioned, nor were they a household member of the SBI despite being given the decision to move in with them. With a couple bottles and cans of assorted drinks in their tote bag, they unlocked the front door.

Walking in they were greeted by Techno, who looked like he was anticipating their arrival, and the sound of squabbling. ‘From Wilbur and Tommy, no doubt,’ (name) thought.

“Hey Techno, I assume we’re going to spend the next half hour arguing about which movie to play again?” They asked, handing a couple of cans and bottles to him.

The rhetorical question emitted a laugh from Techno. By the number of times (name) was invited over for their movie nights, arguing over the movies to show is a habit that never changes. At this point, it’s become such a common occurrence that it would feel weird if neither Wilbur nor Tommy bickered over which movie to screen.

“Ehh… it is what it is.”

“So, how are you?” (name) laughs as they hauls the bag of drinks over to the table near the bickering duo.

“We met up not even two days ago, I don’t think much would’ve changed since,” Techno rolls his eyes, “but s’alright, I’m doing well.”

Though their attempt to drown out the bickering in the background was futile as Wilbur turned his head towards (name) and Techno demanded for their input on the movie choice, which made them sweat, anticipating the flurry of questions that were bound to be sent their way.

“(name)! Tell Tommy that we shouldn’t watch Into The Spiderverse, because we always play it every movie night!” Wilbur exclaimed, pointing a finger to Tommy.

“We do not!! Stop exaggerating, Wilbur!” Tommy cried in retaliation, “(name), tell him that we aren’t watching the Fantastic Beasts Series because it’s shit!”

With a dramatic gasp, Wilbur quickly turned back to Tommy. A series of ‘how dare you’, ‘take that back’, and further incessant shouts of why either movies of choice is-good-and-should-be-watched-again, were exchanged. (name) quickly glanced between the two, their hands up to grab any stray jabs as they tried to break up the ‘fight’.

A wave of exhaustion soon came upon them as the two subconsciously ignored the peacemaker, trying to one-up the other with their playful insults. Letting out a heavy sigh, they took a step back seeing their fruitless attempt to settle down the squabble. They looked at the two with tired eyes, Techno right behind them, cracking open his beverage, enjoying the show.

“So how long has this been going for?”

“Uhhh, about twenty minutes or so, give or take.”

“..Rright. Where’s Phil? I thought he’d be here to break up this uh.. soap opera…”

“He’s microwavin’ some popcorn,” Techno took a big gulp from his drink, “wait, isn’t this his turn to choose the movie?”

“I… think so??”

(name) furrowed their eyebrows, turning their head to Techno, before looking back at the two infront of them. Their hand reached in their pocket to bring out a phone, sending a quick message to Phil about the query. A few seconds had passed between them before a reply was given.

‘Yepp’

‘What are we watching tonight?’ (name) asked once more.

‘We’re finishing off whatever we have left on IT… then onto its sequel’

‘K’

Moving over to the couch, (name) whispered, “Should we tell them that neither of their movies are going to be played?”

“…Nahh,” Techno dragged on, pleasantly amused by the ‘soap opera’ as (name) puts it.

“Well as fun as it is, I’m gonna need them to stop screamin’ their lungs out—”

“What?! No, why would you do that—”

“—before we get our asses busted.”

(name) finished, getting up from their seat on the comfortable couch, before moving over to Tommy and Wilbur, to once more attempt to settle the trivial argument. They gave Techno a side eye, gesturing to help them in case anything ends up broken.

“Tommy, Wilbur,” they started, only to be cut off by Wilbur mocking Tommy with a squeaky voice.

It didn’t end there, no, in fact, anytime they tried to start or complete their sentence, they got cut off either by Tommy’s shouting or Wilbur’s imitation of what the latter sounded like. With a heavy sigh and a facepalm, (name) went back to Techno, drink in hand, and plopped down on the couch. This time, absolutely done with the mess in front of them.

“That was hilarious.” Techno commented.

“Oh shut up, smartass,” they grumbled, taking small sips from their bottle of coke, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“I dunno bro, is it?”

“Oh, are you seriously askin’ me that bro?”

“Well let’s say that it is, what are you gonna do about it?”

In the midst of their back-and-forth bantering, and with Tommy and Wilbur who now have migrated from their place over to the table of drinks near them, none had noticed Phil, who had entered the room with two bowls of popcorn in his hands.

Looking at the sight in front of him, Phil rolled his lips, oscillating and producing a ripple-like sound. He stomped down one foot, grabbing the attention of the other four in the room, who turned their heads towards his general direction.

“Okay chill mate, I could hear you all the way from the other room, and you know how thick these walls are.”

“Sorry Phil—”

“Yea, ‘m sorry.”

“Sorry, this wouldn’t’ve happened if someone didn’t suggest such a horrible movie to watch—”

“OHH! You take that back Wilbur!!”

“Oh? What are you gonna do about it?!” Wilbur exclaims, crossing his arms, raising a brow as if to challenge the younger male.

“YOU B—”

“Ohhh-kay, how about we put those movies up, it’s my turn to choose the movies anyways.”

Phil interjects, evoking a laugh from both Techno and (name) as Wilbur froze in shock from the statement. Tommy’s finger dipped along with his shoulders, jaw dropped as he turned to look at Phil once more.

“What?” the two sputtered.

Handing a bowl over to (name), Phil moves over to the laptop hooked up to the projector, and scrolls through the horror section to find IT. While he was scrubbing through to find the timestamp of where the family had last left off, (name) walked to Wilbur to hand him his bowl of popcorn.

“You knew about it?” Wilbur asked, coming out of his shock.

“Yep,” they confirmed, popping the ‘p’, “I was gonna tell you and Tommy, but the both of you kept cutting me off every time I tried.”

“Oh…”

“S’alright, all in good fun,” they let out a small laugh.

Placing down the bowl on the coffee table, they moved to dim the lights in the room. Techno, finished with his drink, got up from the couch to get his second, pulling Tommy along with him back to the couch. A soft, “Let’s go Tommy,” was heard from the pink haired being.

With arms crossed, and an exaggerated frown, Tommy silently grumbled to himself, disappointed that they weren’t able to rewatch the incredible Spiderman animation. Wilbur, on the other hand, vocalised his disappointment to Phil.

“Phiiil, why’re we watching horror movies? That’s like… that’s so cliché.”

“Well it’s my turn to pick the movie, and I want to watch some spooky movies, so that’s what we’re watching.”

“I mean… he’s got you there Wilbur,” Techno gave his two cents.

“Oh shut up, Techno,” he retorted.

(name) came up to the group, quietly laughing to themselves as they handed a can of coke to Tommy and a caprisun to Wilbur, a small smile plastered on their face.

“Well, that was eventful… and the movie hasn’t even started.”

#c!techo x reader #sbi x reader #sbi x gn!reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #c!technoblade x reader #sbi fluff #wilbur x reader #platonic!tommyinnit x reader #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy bois x reader #sbi family dynamic #sbi fanfic #sbi imagine #platonic!phil #mcyt x reader #mcyt x platonic reader #.sirsleepswrites

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

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big brother to the rescue.

BEN MILLER

TRIPLE FRONTIER. ┃ USEFUL LINKS.

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! hope you're doing well :) i was thinking about a ben miller fic where when they're in the bar towards the beginning the reader is there with her friends and the boys push benny to talk to her bc he's getting distracted from conversation by her across the place. thanks a ton 💖

❝ words: about 1.6k.

❝ a / n: if you'd like to read a second part, lemme know! don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i’d really appreciate it!

“C’mon, little brother. She’s been looking at you the whole night”. Will says palming his back, after catching him distracted for the third time.

“Go, before I do”. Frankie challenges him with a petty smile, knowing it’s going to be enough to force the boxer to take the step.

Taking a deep, deep breath, finding in that gesture the encouragement he needs, Benny goes straight to you, waiting for the bartender to serve you another beer.

At first, you don’t notice his presence, until the unknown guy stops by your side leaning too over the bar. You two cross your gazes, sharing a soft smile that makes your knees tremble. The blonde looks really good, but for some reason, you have the feeling that he could be an idiot, so when he throws at you one of those horrible pickup lines, you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m gonna give you advice. Don’t hit a girl like that”. You just reply with a chuckle, referring to his words.

“I’m more into hitting men”.

For a second, where you were about to leave with your drink, you squint at him having a sip and trying to understand the meaning of his affirmation.

“I box, professionally”.

“Oh…” You nod your chin, puckering your lips, showing him that this fact doesn’t impress him at all. “Congrats. Good luck in your next fight”.

Not giving him the chance to continue the talk, you come back to your table under the attentive looks of your friends, who are laughing at the poor guy and the gesture on his face. His brothers, on the other hand, have slapped their faces whilst shaking their heads disappointed. As soon as Benny joins him, Santi slaps the back of his neck, causing him to choke in his beer.

“There must be something wrong with my eyes, ’cause I can’t take them off you? Really, Benny? Really?”

The guys are laughing when Pope repeats his sentence, as Will puts an arm over his shoulders. “You’re lucky to have me… Big brother to the rescue”.

Anna nudges you, making you turn on your stool to watch a second guy walking towards you, very secure of himself. The only thing you wanted tonight was to have fun with your friends and seems it’s not going to be an option. Crossing a leg over the other and nailing an elbow on the table, resting your chin on your palm, you force a smirk when he offers you a kind smile.

“Good nights, ladies, sorry to interrupt. William, a pleasure”.

The man holds your free hand without asking for it to stretch it. Firmly. Like only a soldier would do —as your father does. He turns for a second to his friends, laying his oceanic and hypnotic eyes on you with a charming and funny grimace on his face.

“Sorry ‘bout my brother, you know... too many punches”. He has captivated your friends, who are gasping for him and the honeyed tone he’s using, covered by a raspy voice. “He has watched you looking at him and he was nervous, but he’s not a bad guy. Just a little asshole. But he’s worth it, believe me”.

“Okay”. You reply slowly, raising an eyebrow earning your attention little by little.

“He has begged me to not come, but I think you’re too smart to not have a date with him”.

“Your brother was right, you didn’t have to come. And you’re wrong, more or less. I’m very smart, but having a date with him doesn’t seem a very intelligent idea”.

“Got it. But he’ll be waiting for you at seven in Kaleo’s, tomorrow night”. A negative it’s not an option to the soldier, showing you his perfect white teeth in a huge smile clapping his hands before leaving. “Good night, ladies. Have a good time”.

Since last night, you've been debating with your friends if you should go to the date just to prove both men were wrong. Lucy would call you crying if you text her in case the guy is another idiot.

The first test is to see if he'd wait for you, arriving thirty minutes later than the hour William told you. Your heart can't help but race a little when you find the blonde boxer sitting on the hood of a black Mustang, in front of the restaurant. Wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans, he has both legs crossed and his hands laced over his lap. Head bowed down and a sigh escaping his lips as he checks the clock on his wrist. Poor guy, he's thinking you are not going to come.

You send a picture of him to the chat group where your friends are asking you if he's still there and, in less than a second, you receive a bunch of heart emojis from all of them. Keeping your phone in a pocket, as you tuck in your hands too, you begin to walk towards him. Step by step. Taking your time with a soft smirk curving your lips as you come closer and closer. Watching him texting someone too, you roll your eyes, imagining it's to some random chick to hang out with, due you have stood him up. Until you're almost leaning above his shoulder and you see he's texting his brother —who is very interested in knowing if you're there or not. You melt as he replies: “amma wait another thirty minutes, maybe there's traffic”.

“You can say to your brother I'm here”. You whisper into his ear, taking him by surprise and causing the boxer to jump off from the hood.

“Oh, fuck. You scared the shit outta m— Where you readin' my phone?”

“Nah, I've some witch in me”. You lie terrible, feeling goosebumps on your arms when his gesture changes suddenly.

A grin like a Cheshire cat decorates his face, offering you his phone as he pressed the small microphone in the bottom right corner.

“Hey, big brother, I came. I hope you weren't wrong”.

“I'm Ben, by the way”. He introduces himself as keeping his phone in a pocket, to offer you his right hand.

“(Y/N)”. You stretch it then, feeling a little nervous at his touch.

“So, this is the plan. We have a beer, and if you think I'm a freak, you can run away before dinner. No questions, no explanations. You just… leave”.

God, that's really sweet. He's nervous too and you can see in his blue eyes how scared he is if you really decide to disappear.

“Deal”. You accept, tilting your head to the restaurant.

A couple of minutes later Ben is sitting in front of you and the first thing that captivates your attention is the fact that he doesn't put his phone on the table. Living in the technology era, everybody keeps an eye on their devices. Constantly. But he's not like everybody. He wants to talk. Know about you. What you do in your free time, what you do for a living, what unveils you at night… And you talk for hours.

Ben tells you what pushed him to be in the army, why he decided to dedicate his life to boxing and he also jokes about how you could fix him up after his fighting. Something like a plan of the future. Together. As friends —as he points out to not make you feel uncomfortable, thinking that he is forcing you to have a relationship. You also discover that your taste in music and movies are very similar, just like your hobbies. And that makes you think about the fact that William will tell you “I wasn't wrong”.

The boxer gladly takes you home, not stopping your chat even when one of the two of you doesn't know what to say, Benny has shown you in some way he enjoys too much the sound of your voice though —how it goes a little higher when you're excited about something, how your throat vibrates when you laugh. And he's falling in love with the disgusted tic that wrinkles your nose when you don't like something, in a funny gesture.

You would die for staying together a little more, but you have obligations to attend tomorrow and your friends haven't ceased sending your texts asking you how it's going. As Ben stops his car next to your house, you sigh not knowing what to do —if just say bye, thank you, ask for his number, kiss him? Yes, you'd like to kiss him right now, but what does it say about you? Should you wait until the second date?

“Got a fight tomorrow night if you're free”. His proposition pushes you back to reality, turning at him on your seat while resting a shoulder against it. “You can invite your friends, mine will be there”.

“Your brother too?” You ask giggling, noticing the change on his grimace to somewhat underwhelmed because of your interest.

“Yeah, he will come”. Ben mumbles pressing his lips after nodding briefly.

“Ugh… Is he the kind of person who has fun saying I told you?”

Ben's gesture suddenly changes again. The shine in his blue deep eyes reappears and you provoke him a strong laugh when you furrow your nose like he literally adores.

“You've had a good night then?”

“Yes”. You don't hesitate to respond, leaning towards him to press your lips on his cheek with a loud kiss.

“See? He told you”. Ben can't help but make fun of you, earning a soft punch to his shoulder that makes him laugh one more time. “It's in the Holou gym, at seven”.

“Okay, I'll not forget it”. You reply, taking your phone and setting an alarm an hour before starting to have time to get ready. “Good night, Ben”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

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TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004 @pedritomando @spideysimpossiblegirl @im-an-adult-ish @chibsytelford

#triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #benny miller x reader #ben miller #ben miller x reader #benny miller

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Avenger Things - Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader

Summary: You’re just trying to make it through the day without breaking anything, or anyone.

Warning: language, fluff, bit of nonesense

Masterlist

Practically limping into the Avengers large kitchen you couldn’t believe how sore you were from, well, let’s just say you’re not entirely so sure. What you do know is that it’s the morning after a stealth mission and your more beastly self, if that’s even the correct term, must have done or gotten into something last night that might have knocked you out cold.

Hence the memory loss.

Honestly you could laugh, it’s like trying to figure out what drunk you was getting themselves into. Problem is, this “drunk you” at the time was 2.4lb of absolute raging adrenaline with an apparent lack of safety awareness and good judgment skills.

Not a good combination. Also you were a hawk.

So here you are, piecing together the jumbled puzzle of last night while you make an attempt at finding breakfast before the crowds come noisily shuffling into the temporarily quiet hang out room slash luxurious kitchen, of the famous Avengers Facility. Ah, the life of an Avenger who’s fantastical ability allows them to shift into any animal in existence.

Although it’s a blessing, you sometimes suffer the consequences of being an actual avenger, and shit, your left shoulder and rib cage are so sore right now you could scream. Your accelerated healing has already kicked in but alas that does not mean your body will spare you some soreness and bruising.

“Fuck what did I do?” You mutter grumpily while reaching for the fridge door handle, making certain not to pull to hard for fear of ripping the metal right off.

Soon your eyes scan over the multitude of various healthy snacks and equally as healthy leftovers due to Steve’s insistent attitude towards fueling yourselves with the best, to be the best or some cheesy hero shit like that.

Spotting your left over hidden burrito in the back of the fridge sends an excited thrill into your otherwise tired and achy self, you snatch it up quickly, and without thinking pull the metal door off its hinges while quickly trying to close it.

Shit.

Tossing the burrito onto the nearby counter top, you swiftly grasp the large food filled door with both hands as you hold it up with ease. Well this is just a fantastic situation isn’t it? Apparently you’re incapable of having an easy morning like just previously planned. Wait are those footsteps?

“You know, you can just have Tony buy you a mini fridge for your room.” Quips Sam with an amused chuckle as you quickly snap your head over to the startling sound. “I think he could afford it.”

Your eyes widen in surprise before narrowing in annoyance at his happily smirking face, Bucky and Vision right behind him to your great pissed-off-ness. “Fuck off I didn’t mean to do....this.” But of course it happens to me.

Eyeing you up with a face that practically says “I know but this is hilarious” Sam nods before sitting down on the bar’s stool, Vision coming to your aid as he phases through the counter to take the fridge door out of your hands.

“Thanks Vis.” You mutter with an appreciative nod.

Setting down the door onto the floor, Vision turns to greet you, “No problem Y/N, it appears you needed the help, I’ll just um....go inform Tony of this....fridge.” He says before turning to leave out the way he came. Guess he’s not one for awkward situations.

Watching him go you suddenly glare down at the two whispering Avengers seated in front of you on the other side of the counter, “Thanks for helping assholes.” You growl unenthusiastically, reaching into the fridge to pick up a water bottle.

“Oh doll, we would have helped you.” Assures Bucky with a kind smile as you force yourself to keep a stoic face. “Vision seemed to handle it pretty well on his own.”

“Yeah well now this fucking fridge is broken and I still feel sore.” You complain with a sneer as Bucky and Sam share a chuckle.

“What?” Laughs Sam, “Don’t tell me you both?....and after the mission too?” He implies with raised brows as you send him the most done-with-your-shit face you can muster.

Sensing your growing irritation, Bucky speaks up, “No, no....definitely not that..it was the mission.”

“Oh shit you’re right.” Realizes Sam as you roll your eyes at him, let’s just say that last mission was a rough ending one. Also you can’t remember much after shifting into a hawk, seeing some bright lights and then...

“Yes.” You grumble, “and I’ve come to the thrilling conclusion that I must have gotten hit by a car......so that’s fun.” You mutter with as much enthusiasm as a stick, causing both Bucky and Sam to begin laughing again. What the hell is so funny?

Listening to them lose it inevitably causes you to start chuckling which in turn causes your ribs to shoot with a hot flaring pain. Holding your injured side you use your other hand to pound against the marble table, “Stop laughing this shit hurts and neither of you dumbfucks are helping.” You grumble half-heartedly.

“Alright.” Says Bucky standing up, “Come on doll let’s get outta here and get a heating pad on that tire mark under your shirt.” He adds sarcastically with another laugh.

Letting out a quick snort you shake your head at his handsome face, “Okay smartass I’ll let that one slide.”

He smirks at your good humored reaction and admittedly adorable messy hair, “I’m thinking we get cozy, watch that weird pirate movie you like with the Sparrow guy, and then see where it takes us.” Suggests Bucky with a lazy smile as he stretches his arm causing his shirt to rise up and reveal a bit of toned tummy.

Sam whines, “What? We have sparring at three this afternoon and you’re gonna leave me hanging for Miss. Grouchy-pants over here?” Points out Sam to Bucky as you cross your hands over your chest while raising a brow.

“Yup.” Quips Bucky with a shrug.

Sam blinks, “Unbelievable.”

“I like Y/N more.”

“You suck and I need a new sparring partner now.”

“Just ask Steve or Nat.” You suggest, not caring much for Sam’s problems at the moment.

“No they’re hard-core and mean.”

“Spar with Clint then.” Adds Bucky.

“No he cheap shots.”

“And I got hit by a car last night we all got problems.” You sass, gaining their distracted attentions once again. “Try and steal Bucky from me and I will make sure you remember what getting a wet towel slapped across your ass feels like.”

“Very specific and greatly noted Y/N. He’s all yours.” Says Sam while raising his hands defensively, “By the way you look rather stunning today did I mention that yet?”

“Don’t press your luck bird boy I’m not known to be very forgiving.”

“Clearly.” Jabs Sam under his breath while you take a swig of water, though you’re increased hearing enables you to catch that loud and clear.

After twisting the cap back on you immediately chuck it at his head, conveniently nailing him right in the temple causing him to yelp in surprise. “Jesus!” He shouts before falling off of the stool and onto the wooden floor below.

“Nope just me.” You deadpan with a satisfied smirk, walking over to Bucky while Sam gathers his bearings.

Bucky immediately throws an arm around you, making sure not to squeeze you too tight in the process. Leaning into his warm side, Sam throws you a half annoyed glare, showing how much he’d like to retaliate but also knowing he’s outnumbered in more ways then one.

“As much as I’d like to see you two beat each other’s ass right now.” Suddenly announces Steve, “We have a mission report in five.”

“What?” You sigh in annoyance, “Really? Right now? Can’t this shit wait?”

Steve sends you an apologetic smile, understanding you’re still in pain and thus very grouchy, “It’ll be quick. The team just needs to go over some credentials about the mission yesterday. Then you can go about your day off.”

Holding Bucky close, you pull him in a little closer, eyeing up Steve defensively, “Bucky too.”

Steve gives you an unsure look, “Well uh...”

“That wasn’t a question Rogers.” You growl, causing Steve to take a cautious step back as Sam lets out a chuckle.

“Yeah Cap I wouldn’t.”

“Right.” Nods Steve, “Yeah, you two are off the rest of the day after the meeting. Uh, see you guys then.” Waves the man with a plan himself, smartly deciding not to linger for much longer or face another steely glare from you.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” You mutter, parting from Bucky to lead the way down the hall to the usual meeting room.

——

After nudging Bucky to go on ahead to claim your unofficial official meeting chairs, you swung by your room to put on a sweatshirt and now are finally, though begrudgingly, making your merry way down the hall and into the expensive meeting room.

Hood up, you trudge into the brightly lit area, practically squinting as the sunshine hits you like a blinding wall through the obnoxiously giant glass windows. “Nice of you to join us Y/N. Get lost on your way here?” Quips Clint as the whole entirety of the Avenger’s turn their heads to face you.

“No, I just didn’t want to come.” You deadpan with a humored glare, earning a couple snickers from your friends.

“Yeah that’s fair.” He shrugs.

Plopping yourself down in the facility’s decently comfortable swivel chair, you slouch tiredly, leaning your body against the arm rest to keep your bruised side from bothering you more then it already does.

Bucky is already in the seat to your left, Sam opting to snatch the one across from you two, while Vision and Wanda have claimed the seats to Sam’s right. Natasha and Steve sitting at the two chairs at the far end to your left, while Clint stands.

“So...” Begins Clint, the apparent leader of todays meeting, “Yesterday’s mission in Quebec was a challenging one, I won’t lie to you. We took a hit, some more then others.” Nods Clint in your direction.

“You’re fucking hilarious.” You mutter, rolling your eyes in annoyance as Sam and Bucky hold in their laughter, while the others ignore the obvious implication, keeping it professional and in your good graces.

“Thank you Y/N I know. Anyways, I think our team training days have improved our performance and been worthwhile. Now, as usual, Steve and Nat...great leadership skills. Vision, Wanda, the whatever the shit you guys are able to do, amazing...keep it up.” Clint glances back down at his notes while you yawn, “Sam and Bucky, nice recovery at the end, things where getting heated and you both really pulled through.”

“Hell yeah.” Smirks Sam as he leans over to fist bump Bucky from across the table.

Practically lowering yourself deeper into your seat, you mentally prepare yourself for whatever smartass comment you’re about to get from Clint. He looks down at his notes then moves to pick up a thin metal remote that connects to the blank screen behind him.

“Uhh lets see here,” He mumbles while clicking some buttons that inevitably turn the screen on, “Okay good it works.” Swiveling around on his heal, Clint points the remote directly at you, “Y/N.” He says with a mischievous grin.

“Clint.” You point back in confusion, side eyeing Wanda nervously.

“Let’s talk...” Stretching out his arm, he clicks the remote to reveal a PowerPoint, “about safety awareness.”

Okay fuck you.

Chuckling tensely you shake your head, “I’d rather not.”

“Which is precisely why we...meaning you all,” Motions Clint to all of you with both his hands in two circles, “need to be educated on safety in the field.” A second later he flicks the lights off with a swift click of the remote, Okay great.....slide number one, do you have a buddy?”

As Clint keeps droning on and on for the next five minutes you suddenly decide to scoot over to rest your chin against Bucky’s right shoulder that's leaning against the table. He immediately smiles, turning his head away from an obliviously jabbering Clint, “Buck I’m going to commit a crime in the next two minutes if I don’t get the fuck out of here.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulder for emphasis.

Biting his lip to refrain from laughing, he reaches to take one of your hands with his, “And what crime will I have to admit in the police report?” He quietly muses.

“Murder.”

Kissing the pack of your hand to help you try and relax for the moment, he smirks, “Y/N it’s going to be difficult to break you out of jail.”

“Not if I don’t get caught.” You quip smartly while resting your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been contemplating taking out Clint since 2012 but then Natasha always stops me.”

“What’s stopping you now?” Challenges Bucky with the tiniest snort of amusement.

“Natasha.” You mutter, “Also I’m god-mother to one of his kids so I’m morally not allowed to kill him.....but I’ve never been more tempted then today.”

“Shh.” Whispers Bucky with an amused smile as you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more then to leave this boring meeting. Fine, but if it was just me and Clint I would pummel his ass into the wall without a second thought, you think to yourself.

A moment later Wanda lets out a random snort of laughter that causes the team to look over at her in confusion while Clint is in the middle of explaining why it’s important to (make sure the enemy is knocked the fuck out before walking away). She quickly covers her mouth in embarrassment as Clint abruptly ends the PowerPoint, clicking back the lights on as he sighs in disappointment.

“Come on Wanda I was almost done.” He whines, setting a hand on his hip as she bites her lip to keep a straight face. Parting from Bucky, you move to lean yourself against the table top and listen to Clink complain. She looks down then glances over at you while Clint fumbles to turn the screen off.

Oh, shit did she hear me say that?

“Sorry.” Mutters Wanda as you quickly realize you’re the reason she started to laugh, resulting in the abrupt ending of Clint’s 30 minute presentation.

Giving her a quick wink, you quickly stand, causing your friends to look over at you, “Alright, good work team, we’re the best huh,” You add sarcastically before looking directly at Clint, “also Clint fantastic work at being the most interesting 87 year old, I’m thoroughly impressed you even know what a PowerPoint is. Kudos to you, I’m out.”

Before anyone can stop you, you’re already at the door, “Y/N you can’t just leave we’re only taking a break. And I already know how to use a PowerPoint.”

“Yeah and you also know how to put someone to sleep even without an arrow.” You sass while the others start to get up as well.

“What? Guys, come on.” Complains Clint as Bucky almost trips shuffling quickly to the door.

“Babe I’m with you wait up.”

——

“So you really did get smacked by a truck. Who would’ve thought.” Mumbles Bucky humorously as the two of you lay sprawled out on your shared bed, a heating pad on your side as Bucky’s head lays on the corner of your right hip. His hands absentmindedly holding your right hand to his chest while your other one presses the heating pad to your ribs.

You lazily stare up at the ceiling while he studies your face, “I guess it makes sense since I can’t remember anything after that. I didn’t even see the damn hunk of moving metal coming either, so stupid.”

“No.” He assures softly, “We all fuck up and miss things sometimes. It happens to everyone.”

Smiling you simply roll your eyes, “Bucky you’re adorable but I, who was a hawk at the time....to be real here, got bitch slapped by a truck.”

“I’ve been thrown off a car a couple times actually.” He confirms with a shrug, “But yeah, you’re way tougher then me.” He finally chuckles.

“I’m tougher then everyone.”

Bucky smiles proudly, “Fuck yeah you are.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier #marvel imagine #marvel x you #marvel x reader

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aelaer · 3 years

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Hi friend! You seem vast in your knowledge of Stephen and willing to share so please enlighten me as I don’t read the comics but I do watch the mcu movies, and do love Stephen.

I know he’s erratic and impulsive and reckless sometimes but didnt we already complete this arc in his first movie? Especially since we’ve watched him deal with the consequences of his actions for the entirety of the film and end of the movie Stephen was a different Stephen from the beginning of the movie.

IW Stephen seemed like a more mature version of the man we’ve met at the end of his first movie, a linear progression of the character, more responsible.

The spider man trailer is just a few minutes so I’ll further reserve judgment till I see the film, but he seems.. silly almost? I’m aware he has his funny moments but I’m just nervous they’re gonna make him the joke instead of having him make the jokes.

Do you notice anything weird about how the adults act in these newer marvel projects.? (I’m thinking of loki specifically) they all have a silly undertone to them? I cant put my finger on it but it’s definitely new and ..off

Is this a constant characterization for Stephen in the comics? Is this what he’s like all the time?

Regardless, thank you for your time if you see this xx

Oh yeah, Stephen's my favorite subject at the moment so I'm happy to give my thoughts!

Note that my answers apply to MCU!Stephen and what we've seen in the four films he's been in.

In my experience of just living, there are personality quirks that can be tempered out and made better, but not entirely eliminated, even if it's undesirable. In my opinion, Stephen's need to push himself and prove that he can Do A Thing is a trait that won't ever go away--especially as that trait has helped him more than hindered him. Examples would include the more mundane such as getting through a combined MD/PhD program and inventing surgical procedures at what is still a really young age for a neurosurgeon. We don't have a canonical age for Stephen, but Benedict was 40 when Doctor Strange was filmed and released; even if he's canonically in his mid-40s, that's still very young for him to be at his caliber after the necessary years of med school and residency in the United States. He's young and nowhere near the end of his career when he gets in the car crash. So with that information in mind, we know that he's very ambitious and throws himself into doing difficult work with gusto. That doesn't even go into everything he did as a sorcerer.

Why get into all of this? Because while we, the viewer who has seen the multiverse open at... some point (possibly, in a rewritten timeline, it's always been open now with what happened in Loki!), we have seen just how nuts it gets. We have seen the consequences. Stephen's smart, but I don't think it's a matter of strictly recklessness and more a combination of ignorance on this specific subject (erasing memories across the world or slightly rewriting time-- we don't know how he's doing it, but a memory spell makes more sense to me), hubris (of course), and the real desire to help Peter out. The latter two traits combined in intelligent people have proven bad in both fiction and reality.

The reason I don't think it's pure impulsiveness is because in the trailer, we see Stephen doing some meditation type thing in the underground area before the spell. He's also always doing research and as he tells Peter he'll help him, he clearly knows of a spell already and has some working knowledge of how it works. The conversation with Wong wouldn't have happened otherwise. But I personally get the vibe off him that he'd not do it without being very confident that he can do it -- and his history in the films has shown 0 failures in any of his spells once he's past novice-level, so in that aspect, his confidence makes sense. If he *should* do the spell due to the risks of failure, and lack of practicing precaution in the face of his confidence, is where his flaws lie, IMO. And in that sense people could say he was reckless for deciding to perform a complicated, dangerous spell, but that follows his M.O. completely -- he performed a very complicated, dangerous spell consistently with the Time Stone again and again, from how the sorcerers spoke about the Infinity Stone (and he casually just... throws himself into a time loop, then to look through time. He takes calculated risks, but they are very much risks).

One last thought on this statement - the biggest, biggest lesson that Stephen learned in his first film was that it was not about him. There was more to the world than his glory and his brilliance and even his happiness. He started doing things for the greater good rather than himself. And he started doing things for others -- fighting for the Sanctum in his own film, and protecting the Earth. Serving something greater than himself. But that doesn't make him suddenly humble, and it doesn't suddenly take away his strange (hah) sense of humor.

IW Stephen seemed like a more mature version of the man we’ve met at the end of his first movie, a linear progression of the character, more responsible.

He was more serious in that film. So was Tony. They still had some quips and arguments, but they were very serious. And it makes sense as to why -- it was the end of the world. So the mood of the setting would change anyone's demeanour. But he had very little chance to unwind in that film, considering that he was trying to protect one of six items that would destroy the universe, and also got freaking tortured in the middle of the film with little time to recover. But nearly every Avenger was super serious in that film, and for good reason.

It's a completely different setting from what is now Stephen's life which, from what little we've seen in the trailer, is weird enough that he got a magical snowstorm in the Sanctum. It's safe enough that Wong's off on vacation. It's been nearly a year since he returned from the dead. He's either figured out how to move on in the last year or, as some prefer, has gotten good enough to put on a facade and bury the trauma so far down that he's putting on a normal act - but that's up to debate until MoM. And we have no idea if old traumas are going to be brought up there or if it's just the new things.

I think the point is that it's possible to be both a responsible person and also to make colossal mistakes due to either emotional connections or hubris (or both - we don't know which way the film will go, if they'll explain it at all). They're not mutually exclusive. He can be protecting reality fantastically, while also believing that he's skilled enough to pull off the ability to pull off a dangerous spell which he did in his own film and in IW. He's guided the timeline down a specific path in IW/Endgame, after all - what's a little identity item compared to the fate of the universe, after all? Removing the Spider-Man/Peter association is, in comparison, child's play I imagine to a man like Stephen.

He was definitely silly in his own film. He was constantly trying to get Wong to laugh and there was a banter between Stephen and Christine after he gets stabbed. He's always been a bit awkward and a bit jokey--I think Thor showed that combination of humorous snark and good research rather well, though he was flippant in a way that didn't get to show his kinder side that is better established in his film. And now we get to see that sympathy in his agreement to help Peter (at least, in my opinion).

Because he was doing an amazing awesome spell not once, not twice, but *three* times in the trailer alone, I am not worried about Stephen just being a joke. He seems just as powerful as he was in IW and Endgame. The rest of the world is just getting reminded that he's definitely a bit of a socially awkward duck at times (or, if you prefer, Putting On a "I'm Fine" Front And It's Coming Across As Weird). So him being a big joke is not something I am personally worried about.

Situational humor has been a staple of Marvel films since Iron Man. I watched the films casually before 2016 when I fell head deep into Stephen Strange (or well, 2018/9 is more accurate as that's when I *really* went nuts), and my viewings before that time and after that time was a lot more analytical. And it's very easy to see where the silliness started, all the way back when Tony crashed into his own car and Dum-E sprayed him with a fire extinguisher. Thor was the butt of the joke in the "fish out of water" scene in a good, good chunk of the film. Even Captain America had some situational humor. And remember that Guardians of the Galaxy was back in 2014, which was halfway through the MCU's time thus far. The stars of these films are almost always the butt of some joke a couple times and do things that could be viewed as childish.

I don't know your age at all, but if you were born after 1990, what might be happening, rather, is that they are not getting sillier, but that you may be getting older. I was an adult (legally, at least) in 2008, but the way I view the adults of the films throughout the early 2010s as compared to now is night and day. It's just come with my own life experience, and wider understanding to media tropes. The jump is even more significant if you were younger in Iron Man/Avengers days and are an adult now. If you're an older adult than me, then I'd argue it's the matter of life experience adding to your overall knowledge of media plus, potentially, rose-tinted glasses giving you a better vision of the older movies while forgetting that the older movies had plenty of their own flaws (and silliness). Could be a lot of things- it's too individual to really say why your perspective has changed. But I don't think the MCU's largely changed their comedy formula since 2012/2013.

Is this a constant characterization for Stephen in the comics? Is this what he’s like all the time?

Oh the comics are a mess of characterizations. It's very difficult to find full consistency across writers, and some writers did him much better than others. At the moment, Jason Aaron's 2015 run is viewed as very good by a large amount of fans, while Waid's 2018 run is viewed with mixed reviews. It's largely a matter of preference as you'll see traits that are just so uncharacteristic in an arc and then it never happens again. He takes on secret identities, he kills billions to save trillions (along with the other Avengers!), he sells his soul, he's in a steady relationship for 30 years, then he's sleeping with a new woman every arc he co-stars in-- it's just so dependent on the writer over the decades. What Marvel thinks will sell. Right now Marvel thinks his death is gonna sell issues, so yeah :P You pick and choose with the comics and build a personality from there.

Thank you for the thoughtful ask. I hope this wasn't too much of a drag to read through; I get rambly on my favorite subjects. Or anything, really.

#stephen strange #doctor strange #spiderman no way home #spoilers #meta #mcu #i did a long ramble #i love stephen #i hope this was somewhat enlightening nonny #anonymous #ask #answered #long post

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Spellbinding (Chapter Seven-Part One)

Summary: A day before Tony Stark’s charity ball, (Y/N) is assigned her very-first mission as an Avenger and needless to say, she finds herself under extreme pressure not to fail.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: The Spanish in this chapter was translated with Google Translate, so I’m sorry if there’s a mistake in it.

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seven (Part I) July 10th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“Hurry up, (Y/L/N), your Quinjet’s gonna be leaving soon and we still have to see if your suit’s working okay!”

As Bruce scolded Tony for being too pushy, (Y/N) finished fastening her sword to her belt with quaking fingers. After three months of extensive daily training, she was finally going on her first field mission as an Avenger; according to Director Fury and Steve, she had excelled in both magical and physical training and was finally ready to put her skills to good use. (Y/N) was excited, of course, but she was also a complete nervous wreck. What if I make a mistake and put the others in danger, she asked herself for the tenth time that day. She knew how much her teammates would be counting on her on this mission, and she was terrified of such high expectations resting squarely on her shoulders.

To distract herself from the butterflies in her stomach, she looked into the floor-length mirror and examined her brand-new uniform. It reminded her of Natasha’s full-body leather suit, but there were several distinct differences; (Y/N)’s bodysuit was made of black and purple leather, it included pieces of black leather armor and matching fingerless gloves and she wore knee-high leather wedge boots, silver arm circlets and gauntlets on her forearms. A long purple cloak hung from her shoulders by silver-toned clasps, and her sheathed sword hung from her waist. She couldn’t help but smile at her reflection, her new suit making her feel just as empowered as the tower’s two resident Asgardians. Smoothing down her hair one last time, she took a deep breath and drew back the curtain separating her from the rest of the lab, causing both men to turn and gape.

Tony’s eyebrows raised and his mouth hung open almost comically. “Damn, (Y/L/N), you look…”

“Fantastic!” Bruce smiled widely.

“I was gonna say ‘badass’ but ‘fantastic’ works too.” The billionaire gestured for her to stand on a short stool before continuing. “We designed the leather of the suit to be breathable and flexible, the armor’s bullet-proof and it can even withstand extreme heat and cold to a certain degree.” Tony pointed to her silver gauntlets as he paced around her. “FYI, these were partly inspired by our little bonding incident a few weeks back, (Y/L/N), remember? They’re not vibranium like Capsicle’s shield but they’re still bullet-proof in case any get through your magic.”

(Y/N) twisted her forearms to examine the gauntlets better. “That’s amazing, Tony!” The billionaire smiled proudly at her compliment. “But, what about my glasses? I can’t wear them on missions and you guys know my eyes don’t react well to contact lenses…”

Bruce’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “That problem had us stumped for a while, but last week we finally managed invent a solution that didn’t involve cutting into your corneas with a laser.” He handed her a pair of metal-framed glasses and held her regular pair for her. “Put these on and press the button on the right side of the frame, please.”

“Oh, my goodness…” (Y/N)’s mouth fell open as she followed his instructions and examined her reflection in the mirror Bruce held up. The glasses had flickered once before turning completely invisible, making it look as if she didn’t wear glasses at all. “How did you two geniuses manage this?”

Both scientists looked pleased with her reaction. “Well, we just adapted the same cloaking technology that S.H.I.E.L.D. used on their helicarrier and improved upon it; anyone attacking you won’t realize you’re wearing glasses unless they sock you in the eye, which is something I’m pretty sure you’d stop from happening.”

“The lenses are bullet-proof, scratch and glare-resistant, they’re fitted so they won’t fall off and we made several pairs just in case something happens to these ones.” Bruce set down the mirror and picked up his clipboard to jot down some notes. “Now, does everything feel all right? Nothing’s too tight or too loose?”

Shaking her head, (Y/N) moved her arms and legs to be sure. “Everything feels perfect.” The moment Bruce finished writing down his notes, she jumped down from her stool and gave him a tight hug, smiling when she felt him slowly return it. “Thank you, Bruce.” She pulled away from him and gave Tony a hug, which he was much quicker to return. “And thank you too, Tony. The suit is wonderful and I feel much safer now that I have it!”

“No problem, (Y/N), we just want to make sure you’re protected when you go out there.”

“Yeah, Stevie Nicks, you should always use protection.” Tony smirked playfully as (Y/N) blushed and Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose in mild exasperation at his suggestive comment.

Just then, Natasha walked in, dressed in her standard black leather bodysuit with her hair braided over her shoulder. “Nice suit, (Y/N)! Cap wanted me to tell you that the Quinjet’s leaving in five, so you’d better hurry up.”

“Thank you, Nat, I’ll be there in a minute,” She turned back to the two men as Natasha left and grinned. “Well, wish me luck!”

Bruce gave her a smile. “Good luck, (Y/N).”

Tony’s smirk widened. “Yeah, not that you need it, though; you’re gonna kick so much ass out there in that getup.”

Chuckling lightly, (Y/N) gave them one last glance before leaving the lab; on the way to the elevator, she heard someone call her name and turned to see Loki hurrying to catch up with her. Her heart beat even faster in her chest when she noticed that he was wearing her favorite outfit: fitted black slacks and an emerald-green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders. She mentally chastised herself before saying, “Hi Loki, what are you up to?”

“I couldn’t very well let my best friend leave on her first mission without wishing her luck now, could I?” Loki flashed her a grin, but she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. “You look positively fearsome in that armor, by the way. How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, and I guess I feel a little nervous,” She said truthfully as they stepped into the elevator, knowing better than to lie to him. “I don’t want to be the one responsible for any of the others getting hurt.”

Loki gently took her hand and held it between his own as the elevator rose, making her faintly blush at the contact. “Lady (Y/N), I can assure you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Our teammates can take care of themselves, and as long as you remember all the training you’ve excelled at over these past few months, you’ll be able to protect them and yourself if the need arises. Remember, everyone in this tower believes in you, but none more so than I.”

Looking into his sincere green eyes, she could feel her nervousness slowly begin to melt away and she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Loki, that really helped.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance,” He grinned before letting go of her hand. “And please try to hurry back, I don’t think I could handle going to Stark’s charity ball tomorrow evening and watch everyone make fools of themselves by myself.”

Stark Industries hosted over a hundred charity events for dozens of different causes and organizations every year, but one of the only ones held personally by the billionaire included an annual charity ball to raise money for children’s hospitals across the country. Since the Avengers had begun using the tower as their base three years ago, the ball had become increasingly popular as more and more people were willing to donate to attend and meet the heroes. (Y/N) was excited to go and promote such a worthy cause, but she was also excited for an entirely different reason: two weeks ago, Loki had asked her to accompany him as his date. She could vividly remember the moment he’d asked her…

“Loki? Loki, are you in there?” (Y/N) knocked on his door before sighing. “Listen, Steve told me that you haven’t been having a good day so I brought you some snacks. We can watch a movie, if you want? Trust me, nothing will cheer you up more than chocolate chip cookies and A Knight’s Tale! It’s about a squire who poses as a knight and competes in jousting tourna-”

“What’s jousting?”

(Y/N) shrieked and spun around to face a laughing Loki, pressing her free hand to her chest and smiling despite herself. “Loki, that wasn’t funny! I almost had a heart attack!”

Loki continued to snicker. “Apologies, my lady, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.”

“So, I take it that you’re having a better day now?” She followed him into his room and sat in her usual place on his couch, handing him his cookies with a raised brow.

He nodded, a cheerful look on his face. “Significantly better, actually. I suddenly remembered that Stark’s charity ball is in two weeks and that I’ll be able to enjoy it with you. That is, if you wish to accompany me…”

“Of course I’ll go with you, Loki, who else would I go with?” (Y/N) mirrored his bright smile before gesturing to the television across from them. “So, snacks and a movie?” As they watched A Knight’s Tale, (Y/N) concluded that Loki was only asking her to accompany him as a friend; she was a little disappointed, of course, but she wasn’t going to allow her emotions to ruin a fun night for her and her best friend.

(Y/N) chuckled to herself as the memory faded; they stepped out of the elevator and walked to the floor’s glass doors. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in no time.” Before he could reply, they stepped out into the tower’s small hangar where a Quinjet was being prepared for departure on the protruding helipad.

“There you are, (Y/N), we’re almost ready to leave!” Steve called from the Quinjet’s ramp as he slung his shield onto his back and adjusted his helmet’s jaw strap.

Loki gave her a reassuring smile. “Good luck on your first mission, Lady (Y/N).” He leaned down to give her a hug but to her surprise, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her up off her feet; she giggled in surprise and he laughed, gently swaying her from side-to-side as she wrapped her arms around his neck and experienced the now-familiar fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “And please, stay safe.”

“I will, Loki, I have an important engagement tomorrow night that I can’t miss, remember?” She joked, feeling a swell of pride when he chuckled lightly. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He set her gently on her feet and she reluctantly pulled away from his arms, giving him one last smile before following Steve into the Quinjet. The ramp closed behind them and (Y/N) quickly strapped herself into the seat next to a familiar face as the plane lifted into the air.

“Hi Scott, I haven’t seen you in a while!” (Y/N) had met Scott Lang during her first month as an Avenger; he was in awe that she was half-Light Elf and had nearly fainted from excitement when she gave him a small demonstration of her powers, and she was equally amazed with his suit’s ability to change sizes and the way he was able to communicate with ants. He wasn’t in the tower often but whenever he was, they got along very well. “How are you? How’s Cassie doing?”

Scott smiled, a gleam in his eyes that he got whenever anyone mentioned his five-year-old daughter. “Ah, I’m good, my buddies and I just opened up our security company – we call it X-CON, get it? – and Cassie’s doing great; I helped her read through a picture-book version of Charlotte’s Web and she’s been reading it all by herself for the past week!”

(Y/N) grinned, the pride in his voice filling her with happiness. “That’s wonderful, tell her I said ‘congratulations’! And congratulations to you for your company; I take it they let you come up with the name yourself?”

As the Quinjet continued to fly, (Y/N) continued talking to the energetic man, thankful that he was there to keep her mind off the nervousness surrounding her swiftly-approaching first mission.

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

Two hours later, they had reached their destination: the Dominican Republic on the island of Hispaniola. Their mission was simple, to destroy a large weapons compound that was operated by a terrorist organization with known ties to Hydra. Scott would go in first and disable the nearly-impenetrable security system before splitting off with Natasha while (Y/N) and Steve stayed together; each group would then plant a batch of explosives around the vast compound. The explosives were rigged to a detonator Natasha held, but it was still imperative they get out as quickly as possible in case of any complications. Please let everything turn out all right, (Y/N) silently prayed as they trekked closer to the compound and took cover twenty yards away behind a fallen tree. The moment Steve gave him the signal, Scott pressed a button on the glove of his suit and instantly shrunk, and a moment later, the tiny outline of an ant could be seen in the fading moonlight, flying quickly towards the compound’s concrete wall.

“Don’t tell Tony, but I think your suit’s way cooler than his, Lang.” Natasha’s lips curled into a smile but her eyes continued to scan the area for any threats.

(Y/N) heard Scott’s soft chuckle through her comm link. “Black Widow likes my suit more than Iron Man’s? Awesome.”

“All right, you both remember the plan, right?” Steve looked up from his explosives-filled satchel and glanced at the two of them.

“We’ve been over the plan twenty times, Cap, we’re fine.” Natasha rolled her eyes but grew serious when she caught sight of (Y/N)’s face. “We’re fine, right (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) nodded once, trying to mask her nervousness with a smile. “Yeah, of course, Nat.”

“Hey super-dudes, I just disabled the security system so come on in whenever you’re ready! But, you might wanna hurry ‘cause I have to turn it back on after one minute so they won’t get suspicious…which you already know ‘cause we went over the plan on the Quinjet. My bad. And I just realized, (Y/N), you’re the only one of us who doesn’t have a cool superhero name and that’s just not acceptable, so I’m gonna make one up for you, okay?”

She couldn’t help but smile at Scott’s unique way of calming her jittery nerves. “Okay Scott, go ahead and make up a cool superhero name for me.”

“Time to go.” Steve pulled his shield onto his arm and gave her an encouraging smile. “We’ll be fine, (Y/N), don’t worry.” The two of them crept silently towards the compound and Steve motioned for her to get behind him before swiftly pulling the unlocked front door open. He immediately threw his shield, hitting the three surprised guards in the heads and catching it as they crumpled to the ground. Silently marveling at Steve’s impressive throwing skills, (Y/N) followed him as they continued down the vast hall.

“Cap, (Y/N), you’ve got two armed guards heading straight towards you on your left, and a couple of others coming up from behind.” Natasha said, revealing that she had already reached the compound’s control room.

Steve glanced at (Y/N) and gestured for her to take the lead before turning to prepare for the attack, and she immediately knew what she had to do. Taking a deep breath and concentrating all her energy into her hands, she summoned two balls of purple magic in her palms; the moment the two men turned the corner in front of them, she thrust her hands and magic outwards, engulfing the men in swirls of purple magic and causing them to slam into each other and then into the concrete wall behind them. They hit the wall with a sickening crunch and fell to the ground, unconscious. Behind her, Steve threw his shield and took out the other two guards.

Natasha chuckled through the earpiece. “Nicely done, Bad-Ass; Scott and I are onto Phase Two, so you two are on your own. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point when we’re done.”

The two Avengers continued down the halls of the compound, occasionally coming across the remnants of Natasha and Scott’s handiwork but strangely no more armed men. In no time, they reached the compound’s warehouse, which was filled with hundreds of wooden crates. Weapons, (Y/N) thought as she frowned in disgust. This particular terrorist organization was responsible for half a dozen attacks around the world in recent years that had resulted in countless civilian casualties, so she had no problem with working to take them down along with Hydra.

They quickly began planting the explosives all around the vast room but just as they finished, at least two dozen armed guards burst in. Steve immediately ran into battle, but (Y/N) froze in fear, her legs unwilling to move. Time seemed to slow around her as a familiar feminine voice spoke in her head: “Kiddo, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent…”

You’ve spent three months training for this exact moment, (Y/N) thought to herself, now it’s time to show the world its newest Avenger. She unsheathed her sword and charged at the men; she sliced through their guns like butter before they could pull the triggers and deflected their knife attacks with ease, twirling and ducking around them and using their slowness to her advantage as she slashed at them. She was vaguely aware of Steve fighting nearby but she was entirely focused on her task of incapacitating her attackers. Her luck left her, however, when she kicked an attacker to the ground; the last man standing took her by surprise then with a hard punch to the stomach and wrenched her arm behind her back, causing her to gasp in pain and drop her sword.

“No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?” The man growled into her ear as he pointed a knife to her chest, its tip puncturing the exposed skin along her collarbone.

“Todavía no has visto nada.” She replied, elbowing him hard in the stomach and ducking under his arm as he doubled over in pain. Rolling out of the way, she picked up her fallen sword and raised it just in time to block his knife attack; she countered it by twisting the knife out of his hands and slamming the hilt of her sword against his head. Her attacker fell to the ground like a stone, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, (Y/N) looked around for Steve and saw that he was locked in combat with a larger man. She was about to hurry to his aid when she caught sight of a sniper crouching atop a tower of crates and pointing a rifle at Steve’s unaware back. Without a moment of thought, she sheathed her sword and ran into the line of fire just as the sniper pulled the trigger. Time seemed to slow down and she could practically see the bullet flying through the air; raising both her hands and summoning her magic, she was rewarded with the sight of the bullet ricocheting away and a millisecond later, the sight of the sniper being engulfed in a swirling purple cloud and thrown roughly against the wall before falling to the ground.

She turned to see Steve standing over his defeated attacker, a stunned expression on his face. (Y/N) only breathed a sigh of relief, her pride and relief overtaking her earlier nervousness.

“Wait, you speak Spanish?”

Scott’s legitimately confused tone causing her to stifle a smile. “Yes, Scott, I speak some Spanish. A little French, as well.”

“As much as I’d love to learn more about Trilingual (Y/N), we’ve got a mission to finish. Scott and I are already at the rendezvous-”

Just then, the unmistakable sounds of thundering footsteps echoed from the hall; it sounded as if nearly fifty heavily-armed men were approaching, all heading right for them. When they turned to look through the small window of the door, they could clearly make out the bazookas the first several men held in their arms as they approached. They plan on sacrificing their weapons and their lives just to kill us, she thought with a horrified gasp.

(Y/N) quickly used her magic to keep the door barred and whirled around to face Steve, an undoubtedly insane plan coming to mind. “Nat, you have the detonator. Press the button when I tell you to.”

“But you and Steve are still in there!”

“Nat, if we don’t blow this place to hell right now, then they’ll be the ones to do it! Besides,” Steve’s confident blue eyes never left hers as he gave her an encouraging nod. “(Y/N) has a plan.”

Natasha remained silent for several moments. “All right, tell me when.”

“I really hope your crazy idea works, (Y/N), or else you two are gonna be toast.”

Hurrying to the center of the warehouse, (Y/N) knelt, pulling Steve down with her, and held her arms up above their heads; she was grateful that the super soldier wrapped an arm around her waist and raised his shield as a precaution, as things were about to become much shakier. Summoning every ounce of strength and power she could without passing out, she created a swirling bubble of purple magic to fully surround them. I love you, Loki, she thought just before shouting out, “Now!”

Explosions went off around them and caused the earth to quake, enormous balls of fire to expand across the room and the warehouse to begin crumbling away around them. To her great relief, her magical force-field held, deflecting the fire and debris and keeping the air inside fresh, but her arms began to shake with effort. All of a sudden, it felt as if she was lifting an immeasurable weight but she continued to hold her magic in place despite the pain. I have to protect Steve, I have to protect Steve, she repeated in her head, gritting her teeth and concentrating all her remaining energy on her magic. That last bit of effort did the trick; yelling in pain, magic pulsed outwards from the force field, vaporizing everything within fifty feet of them and extinguishing the blazing fires. She collapsed against Steve and struggled to remain conscious, the force field surrounding them finally fading away; they both immediately began coughing as their lungs filled with smoky air.

“C’mon (Y/N), stay with me,” Wasting no time, Steve stood and pulled her into his arms, quickly carrying her through the thick smoke and towards the distant tree line. “I’ve got you, can you stay awake for me? Stay awake, (Y/N), we’re almost there, just keep your eyes open…”

She opened her mouth to respond but could only violently cough; after blacking out for what only felt like a moment, she blinked her eyes open and realized that they were back on the Quinjet and already in the air. Her head was resting in Steve’s lap, and Natasha and Scott were leaning over her; all three of them had equally concerned expressions on their faces. “(Y/N)! Thank God you’re okay!”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and looked up at all three beaming Avengers. “Did…did we finish the mission? Who’s flying the Quinjet?”

“Don’t worry, I put it on autopilot and yeah,” Natasha nodded, a proud smile stretching across her face. “Yeah, we finished the mission all thanks to you, Bad-Ass. Seriously, what you did was fucking amazing, (Y/N).”

Steve grinned; he had taken off his helmet while she was unconscious, and the parts of his face that hadn’t been covered were streaked with soot. “Not too shabby for your first mission, doll.”

“And while you were off being awesome, I came up with the perfect superhero name for you,” Scott grinned triumphantly before continuing. “How about ‘The Cosmic Sorceress?’ ‘Cause based off what Captain America here told us and what we saw ourselves, you showed a lot of bad guys that you’re a scary-ass force to be reckoned with, and bad-assery like that deserves a name to match.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, a smile slowly stretching across her face as she looked up at her fellow Avengers. “You know what? I love it, Scott.”

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

Spanish Translations: No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?-You're not so tough now, are you bitch? Todavía no has visto nada-You haven't seen anything yet.

A/N: (Y/N) finally has a ‘made-up name’ like the others! Sorry to leave you in suspense, but Loki and (Y/N)’s ‘date’ will be the next chapter so stay tuned! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Seven-Part Two

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #tony stark #iron man #bruce banner #hulk #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #scott lang #ant man #marvel cinematic universe

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eyessharpweaponshot · 4 years

Note

hi there!! are there any fics you’re reading right now that you would recommend? i need something good after the season we’ve been given so far 😣

hello there!

I agree, this season has been disappointing - especially considering it’s the last one. but thankfully, our fandom is full of amazing writers that serve us goods regularly. I have so much to recommend, it’s a joke. so prepare for a long fic rec. In no particular order, let’s begin:

1. Chasin’ You - @burninghoneyatdusk

okay. you’re gonna see a bit of a theme with me in these fic recs because the authors I mention are some of my favourites in the world - sam being one of the TOP TIER ones. this fic is a modern au, written about clarke and bellamy as exes (a favourite trope of mine) that have went their separate ways. clarke has moved away and hasn’t kept tabs on bellamy but he's soared to the top as a country star, his hit single being about her and what they had. if there’s any fic from this list you need to start reading, it’s this one.

2. Voices in the Water - @burninghoneyatdusk

It’s the canon version we all wanted. set on earth, clarke’s aunt (nia) forces her into an arranged marriage with king bellamy to unite the clans. but under it all, nia has tasked her to kill him. obviously, as clarke falls in love with bellamy, it’s the one task wanheda probably can’t complete. I'm in love with the imagery and descriptions in this fic. there are honestly some lines that sam writes that I want to frame and put up in my house. absolute brilliance.

3. All Because of You - @burninghoneyatdusk

*sheepishly raises hand* - hi, it’s me again, fangirling over another one of sam’s fics. if you have followed me for a while, either here or on twitter, you’ll have seen me screaming about this fic. I've pulled over while driving to read an update that came through to my email. no lie. I don’t say this lightly but it is definitely in my top 3 favourite bellarke fics of all time. sam DELIVERS with this one. bellamy knocks up his sister’s best friend when they’re both young and they grow together in raising their daughter. this fic flashes between present and future in the most seamless way and we see how in love they were back then but too scared to admit it, combined with how in love they are now that they are mature and older - but yet can’t seem to take the leap. I can’t tell you enough how good this fic is. I'm in love and it’s one of those fics that I would happily have as a book on my bookshelf, the pages worn and falling out from the amount of times that I re-read it.

*I just want to note that sam is doing a fantastic job at running @bellarkefic-for-blm. This is an opportunity for the bellarke community to directly support the Black Lives Matter cause through reading and writing fanfiction. For every fanfiction prompt a participating writer receives, they ask that you donate to an organization that supports the BLM cause. This initiative includes non-bellarke the 100 ships and requests for other content (e.g. gif sets, icons, moodboards, fanart). please check them out and request a prompt (this also includes updates for the above mentioned fics)*

4. Count Your Teeth - @icantloseyou-too

let me tell you, you guys will be well fed after reading this fic. It’s one of the most original idea’s and we get so much bellarke and the blake siblings in this one. bellamy is a treasure hunter and married to clarke, after leaving his thieving days behind him. that is until his past comes knocking and drags him back into that world again - and clarke along with him. absolute chefs kiss!

5. Cups and Sorcerers - @icantloseyou-too

again, such a unique plot with just the right amount of fluff. clarke is a witch who owns a coffee shop and she ends up meeting someone just as unique as her. I’m invested in this to an embarrassing degree and it always puts me in a good mood when this fic is updated. such a light and heart filling read and ciara does a fantastic job of world building in this fic.

6. Paint me in Trust - @pawprinterfanfic

I'm sure this fic needs no introduction. everyone and their mother has heard of it and if you haven’t read it yet, believe me, you’re missing out. a harry potter au that runs alongside the last few movies without being involved with the main characters. essie manages to make an already existing world so different, thrilling and gripping. it emotionally upends you and takes you along for the ride without any intention of letting you off. I'm just in love with it and rightly so!

7. When the Wolves Come Home - @pawprinterfanfic

I don’t know how people aren’t RAVING about this fic more because I certainly am. it’s massive for me to even say this because I love all of essie’s work but it’s my favourite fic that she’s written. I can’t describe the feeling I get when I read how she’s written bellarke in this. it’s a percy jackson au but you don’t need to have knowledge of that world to enjoy this. I actually started reading the books because of this fic. essie writes it so well and incorporates a lot of fantastic elements from greek mythology while also keeping me on the edge of my seat with bellarke’s journey. HERE FOR IT ALL THE WAY.

8. I’ll Find You in the Morning Sun - @cominguproses13x

I’ve never seen a fic talked about as much as this one. with 60 chapters, it’s bound to satisfy any hunger you have for bellarke. it’s set in a post apocalyptic world and it is beyond a shadow of a doubt, my favourite setting to read bellarke in. I've actually stopped reading this fic on chapter 5 because im currently writing my own post apocalyptic au as it was a trope on my bingo card and I don’t want any subconscious spill over, but I fully intend on reading the rest of the fic in one go once my fic is published and done. it deserves all the praise and hype.

9. For Blue Skies - @kombellarke

kayla’s fics make me actually weep. her writing style is just unbelievable and she sucks me into stories so fast. this one is no different. I live and breathe for bellarke as exes and this fic is one of my favourites. it’s a modern au with clarke as a mother and she cascades back into bellamy’s life without warning. perfect angst and anticipation. in love.

10. Love Like Fools - @talistheintrovert

the way I love talis with my whole heart. I'm always obsessed with her fics and the way this one was written was just magnificent. enemies to friends to lovers, roommates, angst, emotional comforting? SIGN ME UP. the perfect mix of all of those and I felt so good after reading this. always a fan.

11. It Had To Be You - @useyourtelescope

I had the honour of pre-reading some of this fic before it was published and I felt so privileged. a regency au with a prank war sprinkled in? perfection. hana honestly writes this so beautifully and I can’t recommend this enough. it’s so unique and we are all so incredibly lucky that there’s something in the bellarke fic world for everyone.

12. Veni, Vidi, Vinci - @carrieeve

Again, proof of the pudding that there’s something in fic for everyone. I’ve never read one like this before and it THRILLED me. murphy and bellamy working together to steal a Vinci? it was the fic I never knew I needed. the bellarke interaction in this was beautifully written and I am just completely obsessed. we really struck gold with the bellarke big bang works this year.

13. A Twist of Fate - @queenemori

let’s be honest, soulmate au’s are always wanted and needed in this fandom and kara does an excellent job of serving us this one. we got some team cockroach in here along with some top tier quality bellarke. what more could you ask for? if you haven’t read this fic yet, you need to. so thankful for kara being the absolute gifted babe that she is.

14. Power Over Me - @sparklyfairymira

okay, if you recently watched the witcher on netflix like I did, believe me, you NEED to read this fic. if you haven’t watched the witcher, this fic will make you want to watch it. the smut in this, the plot, the WRITING. absolutely phenomenal. have I mentioned how lucky we are to have such fantastic writers in this fandom?

15. There’s a Serpent Lying Deep Down in These Still Waters - @shaeheda

post apocalyptic au? SIGN ME UP. bellarke thrown together in unkind circumstances? SIGN ME UP. this magnificent human writing a fic? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. I'm so in love with this fic already and I haven’t even finished it yet. as I've said, I've stopped reading fics in this genre until my own is completed but I’ve read enough to tell you that this needs to be on your next to read list. forever in awe of the talent here and this fic makes me feel so lucky to be part of something so great.

I hope this satisfies you for a while and that you enjoy all the bellarkey goodness that comes from these fics. I'm gonna drop some of mine below because why not? just in case you’re in need of something more.

1. I Found Peace in Your Violence

clarke griffin has it all. she’s popular, an artistic prodigy and has a wealthy family to boot. so when her perfect world comes crashing down around her, it’s time to sink or swim. she tests positive for the Homicidal Tendency Syndrome gene, also known as the kill gene. clarke is plucked from her comfortable life and placed into a school with people just like her - carriers, delinquents. when she meets bellamy blake there, he looks like everything they say HTS carriers are. a monster, a criminal. yet, he’s the one who protects her.

2. I Am Lost This Time

a void!bellamy fic that we all deserved to have happen in canon. an au where bellamy hears clarke’s radio calls from earth, sees her memories in m-cap and where she really is the key: the one that unlocks his memories and brings him back to her.

3. Purple, Blue, Orange, Red

bellarke are childhood friends and teenage lovers, reuniting in the midst of the same grief that tore them apart.

4. Devil Side

post apocalyptic setting and my favourite fic to have ever written. both of them coming together to survive and protect those in their family, including two small children. bellarke started out as strangers, who would have thought that they’d end up co-parenting in the middle of a world that is too dangerous to survive out in the open?

5. Waste It on Me

a soulmate/reincarnation au that I wrote based off my own breakup and feelings. probably my most popular fic and should keep you going in terms of bellarke feels.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic rec #fic recommendations #jensfic #eyessharpweaponshot #wonderful writers #wonderful fics

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bibislut · 4 years

Note

Hello!! I'd love love LOVE if I could get a bit of a longer fic of Loki x Female Reader. The reader is a member of the Avengers and she has it BAD for Loki. They are very close but she does not think he would ever return those feelings. She is sent on a stealth mission but it goes wrong. She ends up in a sex trafficking hustle and she is a virgin. Loki notices she doesn't come back and gets worried and he rescues her before anything bad happens.

Hi! This is a fantastic prompt, and I hope I’ve done it justice!

This was a little out of my comfort zone simply because I’ve never written much action before, but I’m pretty damn happy with the result!

Word count: 4263

Warnings: Strong language, talk of sex trafficking, talk of r*pe. Nothing sexually explicit.

You sip slowly at your coffee, letting the feeling of the hot liquid oozing down your throat ease your hunched up body.

Last night you had drunk a few too many glasses of wine, and few too little glasses of water. You trace the lines of the polished oak wood table before you, really wishing you could go back to bed. Leaning back in your chair, you take another sip as Fury's voice carries around the room.

"..simple enough for soldiers such as yourselves.." You tune him out again, the other six members of your stealth squad rigid in their seats, eyes studying the director carefully, listening silently to every word he says.

Your eyes come into focus again as a familiar silhouette appears on the other side of the glass wall. Loki walks past nonchalantly, hands stuffed into his dark wash jeans, green t-shirt clinging deliciously to his chiseled torso. It really is unfair how gorgeous he is. You watch as he goes up to the coffee machine and presses the button for a latte. Snorting into your cup, you push your thoughts out to him.

~Tosser ~

You know full well that he's only come down to the briefing floor to wind you up, with a perfectly good coffee machine on your own floor.

~ Oh absolutely, my dear ~

The silken sound of Loki's voice whispers lowly in your ear, unheard by others in the room. You watch as his large hand reaches out to wrap around the paper cup.

~ Good luck, today ~

You scowl at him as he turns around and winks at you before striding away.

~ Piss off ~

A small smile plays at his lips just before he leaves your line of vision. He was the prick who had suggested a movie marathon last night, helped you demolish half of the wine fridge and now got to stay at the Tower all day, doing fuck all. It really wasn't fair. Maybe when you got back you could have a little revenge, cover his bedroom ceiling in pictures of Thor or something, maybe hide some photos in his drawers and pillow cases. Something he couldn't quickly magic away.

You smirk. That might just work.

"Agent!" Fury's voice carries around the room and you flick your eyes over to him. He smiles sardonically. "Nice of you to join us."

"You're welcome." You smile back sweetly and his jaw twitches. "Don't worry, Director. I've already read the brief, and you said it yourself, the mission should be easy enough." The lie flows easily from your lips.

"Jesus fuck, you're as bad as Stark with that mouth of yours. It's not appreciated, Agent."

"It's part of why you keep me around."

"Uh-huh." He grunts and drops the file he was holding onto the table. "Briefing concluded. You're all to be on the jet in 30 minutes."

The soldiers around you all stand up and you clear out with them. You need a filthy helping of grease, and have just enough time to leg it to the burger van a couple blocks away.

-----

You throw the dirty napkins in the bin and wash your hands, running over the brief in your mind. The hard drive you're being sent to retrieve is in the basement of an abandoned gym in one of the poorer neighbourhoods of Atlantic City. A maximum of ten men are expected to be there, all of them with weapons, no more than six of them with military training. The hard drive contains sensitive information which the leader had won in a bet, and was now trying to sell to the highest bidder. Two of your team will take the upper level, another two on the ground floor, and the last two with you in the basement.

The most stressful thing will be dealing with Williamson's singing on the way back, an awful celebratory habit of his. Thank god he's a good soldier, otherwise you might strap him with a parachute and kick him off the jet.

-----

“Everyone off. The entry point is three blocks west.” You motion everyone off the jet with your hands before following them as you all jog through the desolate neighbourhood. You all flatten your backs against the wall of the next door building, and you creep forwards to peer ahead. A lone man stands outside the door, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he looks around. Although dressed casually, you can see the handgun tucked into his waistband. You slide the silencer onto your gun and take aim.

His body falls to the ground with a soft thud and you wave to the others to follow. Williamson moves in front of you to kick the door down and you aim over his left shoulder as the two of you take down the men inside before they can shout out. Peters and Edwards push forward into the building ahead of you, and the other four follow you to the staircase on your right. Williamson and Smith take the stairs up and you wave Johnson and Willows down with you.

As you descend, the throbbing in your head returns and you rub your forehead, willing it to go away. The door in front of you is slightly ajar and you hold your hand up to stop the others as you listen closely.

“...the new lot are waiting by the docks, should be leaving in an hour or so.” A gruff voice says.

A high pitched laugh rings out. “Any of them any good?”

“As if you could afford one, Anderson.” A third man snickers.

Perfect, they’re not expecting you. You nod to the other two before pushing the door open. The men are sitting around a table, and you shoot one in the chest before the other two have even stood up. Johnson ducks as the smaller guy shoots, and you land a bullet in his throat before he can turn to you.

The rest of the room is empty, with a door on the left and right. “Johnson, Willows. You take the right, I’ll take the left.” You whisper and they nod.

You press your ear to the door on the left. It’s mostly silent, except for the clacking of computer keys. Only one guy it seems. You kick the door open, gun raised at the man behind the computer.

Time seems to slow as your finger rests on the trigger, a flicker of surprise gracing your features at the young man in front of you; spotty skin, a star trek t-shirt stained with ketchup and a poor attempt at what is probably his first mustache.

You shouldn’t hesitate, you never have before. Maybe it’s the headache, maybe it’s something else, but either way - you know you’ve fucked up as a large figure looms in your peripheral vision to your right. You barely leap out of the way before the giant of a man’s fist punches through the air where your head was. You spin to face him, back to the young guy as you shoot straight through the big guy’s head. Turning quickly back around, you lift your gun again, expecting to see the younger guy’s face.

Instead, you see the fist of a man double your size, right before it lands on your face. You fly back against the wall, gun falling from your grip. Your head spins and vision blurs as you try to lift yourself to your feet.

“Not so fast, pretty girl.” The brute’s giant hand wraps around your throat as shouts sound out around you. He drags you by your throat as you kick out, scratching at his fist, towards an open door at the back of the room. He drags you past several men as Johnson and Willows burst into the room, shooting at them. They disappear from sight as you’re dragged through the door into a dim hallway. You gasp for air, your vision growing dark as the blood is restricted to your head. Just as you black out, you feel yourself being hauled over the brute’s shoulder.

----

When you wake, your head is pounding and everything hurts. You’re cold, and everything is so bright. You squint around the room, taking in the concrete walls, the concrete floor, the fluorescent lights. Opposite you is a window of one way glass, and just in front of it, a camera on a tripod, the flashing red light indicating that it is recording. You look yourself over and realise with a jarring shiver that you’ve been stripped and given a simple white dress, your legs and shoulders exposed. As you do this a rattle sounds next to you and you gasp, clutching at your neck and feeling the metal collar wrapped around it. The back of it has a chain attached, and when you stand on shaky legs, you realise the chain is attached to the middle of the wall. You don’t bother to pull at it, knowing full well that it won’t budge.

The chain allows you to move about six feet away from the wall, but no further, definitely not close enough to kick at the tripod or touch the glass. The girl in the mirror looks awful, dark circles under her eyes and bruises around her neck, skin grey in the light. You grind your teeth, more angry than scared. Ten men! What a load of bullshit! They had at least fifteen in the building, and if Fury could get his fucking facts straight, you would’ve been more prepared!

You stop your gnashing as the door to the left of the camera clangs, the sound of several bolts being opened, before it swings open to reveal two men. The first, a tall, balding man in a suit, smiles at you coldly. The second is dressed in all black, clutching a rifle.

They stop next to the camera as the door slams shut behind them, echoing around the chamber.

“Do you know why you are here?” The first man drawls, his voice like a serpents.

You smirk at him. “You’re gonna torture me for information. Good luck with that by the way, I’ve been trained by the best. You won’t hear a peep from me.”

He snickers, covering his mouth with his hand and you try not to show your unease. “I have no use for your information, sweetheart.” He stares over at you like he can see through your dress. “No, your mind is not what I value. Your body will fetch a much higher price.”

You clench your jaw at his words, trying not to let the fear creep into you.

He steps forwards, arms behind his back as he looks you up and down. “There are many out there who would love to have one of SHIELD’s operatives in their hands. It’s a much more personal way to… take out their grievances.”

You fight the urge to step back, away from him; and instead raise your chin at him, not looking away.

He chuckles. “Look at that, such bravery. I do wonder how long that will hold out.” He turns away, walking back towards the wall before leaning nonchalantly against it. “I saw you, you know, when they brought you here. So beautiful, so vulnerable.” He licks his lips. “Such a lovely body too, what a shame we can’t hear how nicely you beg.” Your hands twitch by your sides, itching to cover yourself. “Tell me, are you a virgin?”

You still, not allowing yourself to do anything that will give away an answer, but that seems to be answer enough. He claps his hands in joy, pushing himself off the wall in excitement. “You are! Oh, how wonderful! We can double the price now.” He chortles to himself.

“Fuck you.” You spit at his feet, straining against the chain.

“Not me darling, but someone else. Soon.” He taps his hand on top of the camera. “Do you know why we record you? So that the buyers can get a taste for the product they’re buying; and you, sweetheart, are the newest in a long line of girls who have been in our special store.”

He picks up the camera and switches it off, handing it to the other man. “Don’t fret. You won’t be in here too long, we’ve already received some interest.”

The man knocks on the door and it opens again. “Toodles.” He wags his fingers at you before striding out.

The door shuts behind the two, and you hear the bolts sliding into place. They’re really not taking any chances with you, are they? You sit back against the wall, and run your hands through your hair. You have no idea how long has passed since you arrived at the original mission site, but it’s surely not more than a few hours. They had definitely drugged you in some way to get you here, but you were confident that they hadn’t… violated you. You shiver, closing your eyes and bowing your head.

You’d be found, right? Before.. Before you were bought by whatever despicable human wanted this kind of perverse thing. You had been wanting to lose your virginity for a while, but the right time never seemed to come around, and by the time it did, your mind was occupied with something , well, someone, else. You sure as hell aren’t going to go down without a fight, but the fear grips you tightly and blink away the tears. What if you don’t have a choice? What if they.. No. You’re not going to think about it.

You trust the team. You trust him. Loki. He had been your rock since you joined the team, the one you clicked with the most. His quiet wit, and his loud exclamations when you got him alone. His gorgeous smile, and the amused looks he reserved only for you when the others did something stupid. The way he had taught you how to project your thoughts to him, and no one else, a private thing between the two of you. He was your best friend. And yes, maybe you had been hoping to lose your v-card to him, but that didn’t really matter now, as long as it wasn’t some evil bastard on the other side of the glass. Fuck, if you got out of here in time, you might finally grow the balls to actually tell him how you feel. He wouldn’t reciprocate of course, but at least you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. The thought of Loki in a slutty priest costume swims into your head. “You have a confession?” The absurdity of it makes you smile, a small reprieve from the worry itching itself through your veins.

You allow yourself to drift off into a daydream of different members of the team in ridiculous outfits, Thor as a ballerina, Tony in a unicorn onesie, Nat as Director Fury, and soon enough drift off to sleep.

-----

You wake to the sound of scraping metal, and look up at the man in the suit as he carries in a tray of food and a glass of water. He slides it over to you, some of the water spilling over the edge of the paper cup. An apple and two slices of buttered bread lie on the tray, no plate, nothing you can use as a weapon.

“I wouldn’t usually bring a girl their food myself, but I thought I’d let you know some exciting news!” He exclaims in an exaggerated tone.

You say nothing, gulping down the water as he watches your throat move. “We’ve had a tremendous response to your tape. The top six bidders will be here tomorrow morning to see you in person.”

He smiles at you in mock kindness. “Make sure you rest up well, I imagine you’ll be quite busy tomorrow.” He laughs, heading towards the door.

You stand up quickly, holding out a hand. “Wait!” He turns back, an eyebrow raised. “Could I please use the toilet?”

He smiles coldly. “Of course, I can't have you soiled when the buyers arrive.” He gestures to someone outside the door and two men walk in, dressed just as the other guy was earlier, holding guns. “Please escort her to the lavatory.” He leaves the room and the two men look at you.

“Face the wall, palms to the wall.” The one on the right barks and you do as you’re told. You feel one of them come up behind you, moving your hair out of the way and you feel sick. The jingle of keys sounds and then you feel the neck restraint slacken. Two pairs of hands grab an arm each, and they lead you away between them, your restraint falling to the floor. Outside the door is a long hallway lined with doors, all of them shut tight. You get the distinct feeling that you are underground and struggle to keep up with the guards' long strides. When you reach the end of the hallway, it opens up into a larger room, where a woman in a white lab coat is bustling about. A young girl, perhaps 17 or 18 lies unconscious on a bed, a large gash on her head. It looks as if the doctor is stitching her up. The guards pull you around the side of a curtain to see a toilet. They let you go and push you towards it. They don’t turn away, amused looks on their faces as your skin flushes. You lift your skirt, squatting down. You try to focus on something else, utterly mortified as they watch you. You reach for the toilet roll and wipe, turning around to flush the toilet.

This is the only chance you might get. You launch yourself backwards into one of the guards, grabbing his arm and shifting your weight to throw him over your shoulder. He wacks his head on the bowl of the toilet, but you don’t stop. Hitting the other guard’s pressure points, you pull the gun from his grasp, sliding it across the room. You put one foot on the unconscious guard’s body, using the momentum to launch yourself onto the other guard, hitting him repeatedly with your elbows as he tries to pry you off. You land an especially hard blow and he stumbles, allowing you to kick off him and push him into the wall which he slides down. You skid around the curtain, the doctor shielding the unconscious girl’s body as she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Please you have to help me, how do I get out of here?!” You try not to scream the words but she just looks at you. “¿Dónde está la salida?” You say, hoping maybe she speaks spanish. The sounds of boots on concrete thunder towards the room from down the hallway and you shake her shoulders. “Please!” Again, she says nothing.

You grab a scalpel off of the tray beside her, wielding it in front of you as guards come pouring into the room. One, two, three, four, five, six. All of them aiming at you. You drop the scalpel, holding your hands up in surrender.

-----

You don’t sleep a wink all night, just staring at the wall, your back aching from the unforgiving floor. What if you’re not found in time? What if you’re sold like a slave? Images of what could happen flash through your mind and you wipe at the tears that threaten to spill over. You have to hope, you can’t give into the fear so easily.

It feels like an eternity, this waiting. Eventually, you hear voices outside. “I think you’ll find she’s much to your liking, gentleman.” The clang of the bolts sliding sounds and you push yourself back against the wall, pulling your dress as low as it will go, and yet it still won’t cover your knees. Your heart pounds in your ears as the guy in the suit walks in, followed by six other men. Your eyes lock on the second to last’s and the lights in the room flicker. Loki.

Now with short blonde hair, and wearing a cream suit; he looks almost nothing like himself. And yet you’d know those ice blue eyes anywhere, those cheekbones, those lips - usually lifted in laughter but now pressed tight together. His eyes blaze with anger as he takes you in, covered in bruises, hunched against the wall. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure everyone can hear it, and you look away quickly, not wanting to let your reaction give anything away.

~ Stay calm ~ You send your thoughts out to him.

~ My love, what have they done to you? ~ Your eyes dart back to his as the lights flicker again. His voice in your ear brings tears to your eyes as relief floods you. He’s never called you that before.

~ You need to keep your magic under control ~

“...bidding at 1.5, gentlemen?” The man’s voice draws you back to the room. A larger guy licks his lips at you as he raises his hand.

“Wonderful. What about 1.75? Anyone?” Loki raises his hand and you shiver.

“Excellent. Anyone have two million for one of SHIELD’s own?”

~ We have to delay them, the team is almost here ~ Loki’s voice in your ear is like silk, and makes you feel stronger just from hearing it.

You gulp as another man raises his hand. You had been trying so hard to contain your emotions , but if you’re gonna slow this down, you need to put on a show.

“Fuck you!” You spit, clambering to your feet. “I dare you, fucking try me!” You scream it, letting yourself feel the anger, breathing heavily.

The men laugh at you. “Isn’t she so feisty?” One says.

“Mmm indeed.” Another agrees and raises his hand.

“Two million, lovely. Anyone going for two and a quarter?”

You scream, throwing yourself forward until the chain pulls painfully at your throat. “Come here you bastard, and let me give you two million dollars worth.” You reach your hands out like a mad woman, clawing at the air in front of the men.

“May I?” Loki asks, stepping forwards towards you with fake curiosity.

“Oi! Who said you get to touch her?!” One of the men shouts, pulling Loki back. He spins around, towering over the guy.

“Gentlemen please, let us continue the auction.” The man says and Loki straightens his blazer, returning to the wall.

Gun shots ring out down the hall and all of them men look over to the open door. “If you’ll excuse me.” The man says, rushing from the room.

“Looks like it’s free dibs.” One of the men says, eyeing you up. You stumble backwards as you lock eyes with him, and then another man punches him.

Apparently that is all that is needed for a brawl to break out, and you back against the wall, watching as Loki drops something, nonchalantly kicking it back to you as he throws a punch. The hook pick slides across the floor and you scramble to pick it up, sliding it into the lock around your throat. You jiggle it, almost laughing in elation as it releases, and you rip it from around your throat. When you look up, four of the men lay on the floor unconscious, and Loki slams the last against the wall, smashing his head into the concrete.

He turns around, his glamour falling away to reveal his long black hair and leather suit. Tears pour down your face as he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you. “My little dove, I’m here.” He coos at you and you cry harder at the nickname he reserves for special occasions.

“I was so worried… I thought.. I thought you might not find me in time.” You sob into his chest.

“Sshh, I will always be here for you.”

“Promise me.” You let your walls down with your words, and Loki sinks to the floor with you in his lap.

“I promise, my love.”

You sniffle, pulling away from him. “Don’t call me that. You don’t mean it.”

He chuckles. “Is this really the place for confessions?”

The image of him in a slutty priest outfit flashes through your head and you give a watery laugh. “Because of the unconscious cunts on the floor?”

“I mean, partly.” He says, smoothing your hair behind your ears as you wipe your face.

“Are we safe?” You ask, knowing he can sense the energies around.

“Yes, the others are waiting just outside.”

“Then yes, it is the place for confessions. I was so scared Loki…”

“Sshh it’s okay.” He rubs the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks.

“No, it’s not. Because through everything I was so scared that I wouldn’t get to see you, get to tell you..” You break off, tears threatening to pour again.

“I know, little dove.” He tilts your chin up to make you look at him and strokes your hair. “I love you.” He whispers the words, and your tears spill over at the sight of his own eyes shining with tears, at hearing him say the words you had waited so long for.

“I love you too, Loki.” You hold onto him tightly, and he squeezes you, letting you cry.

After several long minutes, you pull away, wiping the snot from your face. “Sorry, I probably look disgusting.”

“Be quiet. You look as gorgeous as ever.” He stands, offering you a hand. He shrugs out of his long leather jacket, draping it over your shoulders. “Let’s get you home, pet.”

****************

Hope you enjoyed!

My fic requests are open! Please refer to this post for more info!

#loki x you #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fluff #loki fic request #fic requests open #mcu #loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson

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bbwoulfc · 4 years

Text

ML NY Special Review

Finally finished my review on the ML NY Special and it’s going to be a long review, I won’t lie. I will be breaking this down in two sections. First section will be focused through the perspective as a professional (animation industry) and the second section through the perspective as a viewer and ML fan.

I won’t deny, I will be criticizing a few things and really give large opinionated thoughts; I’m sure it will piss people off, but I’m gonna be honest and I don’t give a damn. I’ve been here since the beginning and I’m gonna go all out. It wouldn’t be the first time I pissed people off.

Again, keep in mind these are my views/opinions as a professional and as a viewer/fan. If you can’t handle some of the strong opinions that will come from this review, then keep moving on. Don’t waste your time if you can’t handle certain characters or subjects being discussed in a different light.

If you wish to continue, then click the “keep reading” option.

As an animator, this is one of my favorite things to do with animated shows or movies. I absolutely love breaking things down and giving opinions on the whys, whats, and hows. Never do I aim to prove my opinions right. My goal is to simply make you think and consider. And if you don’t agree then that’s completely fine. That’s how it works.

Now, the NY Special has definitely exceeded the quality than what I expected. I absolutely love SAMG as a company. I think this is by far one of the best that SAMG has produced for Miraculous as a whole. Even better than the origin episodes. The lighting is probably the best I’ve seen in a 3D animated tv series, by far. It was stunning and gorgeous and worked well with the given mood that was set throughout the hour of the special. I would say there are two scenes in particular that I felt were the best lit scenes.

The first scene is definitely near the beginning when the class landed in NY and where traveling in the bus. They stopped either at the hotel or museum and the shot was the buses in front of the large building where you have the other city buildings around it. That shot was gorgeous; the orange hues falling on top of the buildings and gaining that purple and blue shadows was great. It’s honestly one of my favorite complementary color schemes to use when lighting most scenes in animation. It helps achieve a nice balance when setting mood but also to get a nice glance at the shapes of the models in the scene. Perfection.

As for the second scene, I would have to say it was the moment Adrien left and Marinette was biking to chase after him and she fell. That moment the scene focused on Marinette on the ground and in the rain spoke many volumes. The color tone of the scene was perfect and captured the common traits used in many shows and films to further drive the sense of sadness and overall emotional effect; using the traditional trait of rain made the scene work and stand out during the struggles that Marinette was dealing with.

The rain in general was outstanding on it’s own. Liquids in animation are tough, not an easy thing to do. The way the rain was animated was probably the best rain I’ve seen in most 3D animated tv series. I will even say it beats the rain from the origin episodes which is amazing because it shows the growth alone that SAMG has come from since the first season of the series.

They create stunning quality work and by far are the best of the best from all the companies that ZAG uses or had used for the show. I won’t lie, I still can’t fathom how Jeremy/ZAG could let such a company go but Jeremy isn’t the greatest with the money, so it’s not a shocker. It definitely shows that man doesn’t know how to properly run a company and treat a show. I honestly blame him for pretty much the entire outcome of the series and that’s my god honest opinionated truth as a professional.

The pacing of the special I felt was good, though I do think it would have been nice to have had an extra 30 minutes to help flow areas a bit better or more, but I can understand the time constraints, especially after hearing about how Thomas stated that the special was going to be two hours originally. And I will be honest, I wouldn’t have minded that. I think it would have been fantastic to have had a longer span episode special, but I understand a lot of the struggles that no doubt the team had endured.

Overall, some issues, but 10 out of 10 on animation and quality output.

Now the second section; viewing through the eyes as a viewer and fan.

As a fan of ML, I will not beat around the bush, I truly believe this special was disappointing plot wise. And I don’t blame Thomas and his team for the issue. As stated previously, my anger and frustration is more on Jeremy/ZAG for everything that has come from ML as a show and especially the result of the NY special.

My biggest issue with the special was the focal point: Adrinette.

How many damn times must I hear, “they’re meant for each other” or “aren’t they perfect together” and so forth. I get it. You can adore Adrientte but I don’t need it shoved down my throat every five minutes. I don’t give an ounce of care that Adrien and Marinette are endgame and that they’re “soulmates”. The romance between those two means absolutely nothing to me. It was cute and fun in the beginning when the series first started, but I’m tired of it. I don’t care about the love square. I don’t care about the “soulmate” trope when in reality anyone can be someone’s soulmate with the right care. That was no doubt the biggest issue for me in the entire special.

In my opinion, it would have been perfect if it wasn’t Adrinette centric. This was the best moment to show Marinette is improving herself but it had to become fan service because god forbid it felt like they needed to please the Adrinette shippers that their ship is still valid. If we’re judging this based off the season 3 finale, I won’t lie, this special fit better as a season 2 finale or mid season 3 than the end of season 3.

I’m seriously more disappointed that the special wasn’t more on Marinette and herself as a character. They were in New York, another strong hub for fashion. This was a perfect opportunity to explore more of her interests as a fashion designer and maybe meeting some new people. Who knows, maybe even Jagged Stone as an international rock star. But overall it was a lost opportunity to expand more on her for the sake of shipping.

I think it would have also been cool to see her and Chat Noir maybe learn some methods/training from the US heroes and get a glimpse into a world of heroism that is different in cultures and circumstances. Which honestly made sense to me how US heroes didn’t care about identity because Ladybug and Chat Noir have magical based items that are no doubt more powerful and outside sources that I’m sure would be willing to destroy to obtain it.

Another problem I had was how I felt we were robbed without having Kagami and Luka go to New York. Or if anything, more with Luka than Kagami. I love Kagami with all my being, but I doubt her mother would let her go to New York. But imagine Luka being there. We could have had a flipping jam session between Luka and Jess. I felt we were cheated, it would have been amazing to see two incredible guitarists jam it out and two people who have a passion for music find a friend in each other. I would have given anything to have had that moment.

Though in general I would have enjoyed anything else if it just wasn’t Adrinette centric. I’m positive everyone in the fandom is on the same page that they’re “soulmates” but there’s more that can be done than a damn ship that has followers that attack and annoy anyone who doesn’t ship them. Because, god forbid, Adrien and Marinette apparently aren’t allowed to be happy with others. I swear, half the fandom (hardcore adrinette shippers) treat Adrien more as an object than the ML characters themselves.

Nothing against the ship, but it’s just not for me and that’s okay. I simply can’t relate to Adrien as a romantic choice of a character. When Luka came into existence, I was in awe. I found a character I could relate too because I was as close to similarity than any other character in a show before. And that’s something I’ve noticed with this fandom, hating characters because to them they’re nothing but boring.

Fans need to understand that one will not understand everything in a show, especially characters. Just because you hate a character and find them boring doesn’t mean they’re terribly written. You as a viewer simply can’t relate to them and that’s completely fine. There will always be some who can relate and understand while others don’t, but that shouldn’t be a reason to argue against people who love a certain character.

And I’m being serious, I enjoyed the 30 seconds of Kagami and Luka with their love interests more than the hour of Adrinette. It’s just overall sad. There is so much potential that could have been the special focus wise but felt it was there to show why Adrinette is “superior” when it’s really not. They’re only one of many ships that are equally good. It comes down to how it’s portrayed and done.

However, since I know we’re stuck with Adrinette no matter what, I’m going to end this review with this as a food for thought but again, this is a simple opinion.

There was one thing that stood out and caught myself and some of my friends in a ML server attention. In the NY special there were strong moments that revolved around bikes. So, out of curiosity, I searched for symbolism meanings about bikes during the server’s conversation and it might hint to what might happen or what might come in the future of the show.

The bike symbolizes the moving circle of life.

Seeing a bicycle is a hint that you will reach somewhere. This could either be your motivation or your future plan. Cycling refers to the different moods that a person feels. Bicycles are also related to the ups and downs of life. For instance, riding a bicycle gives you both smooth edges and rough pebbles on your journey. The smooth edges are related to the happy times of your life and the rough pebbles denote the challenges of life.

So, if we want to use this to break down ML, this in a way, represents Lukanette and Adrinette. Luka are the smooth edges in Marinette’s journey. He’s the one that calms her, helps her think things through, focuses on what Marinette wants to do rather tell her what she should do. Never once does he tell her to do this or do that, but simply asks her what it is she wants. Luka, is pretty much her guide. The happy times as Marinette where she appears happiest without the burdens and overwhelming stress of her other life. Whereas Adrien is the rough pebbles in her journey, the challenges to properly talk with the one she views as a love interest or simply to build that perfect friendship/relationship. Yes, they’re friends, but they’re not as strong as friends like Marinette and Alya or Adrien and Nino. Adrien is a challenge in her life and always will be until she learns to let go and mature.

The other moment that stood out with the bike was the moment Marinette was pressured to chase after Adrien to get him to stay. She chases after him on a bike but falls off in the end.

Falling off the Bicycle: This indicates that you are losing your self-confidence.

Spend time with your loved ones and take suggestions from the experienced people. Join a course on building your personality and motivation. Do things that interest you the most and this will surely help to bring back your confidence level. This indicates a frenzied lifestyle and the need to slow down.

This here makes me believe that Luka is the “experienced people” in Marinette’s life. Other than Kagami, Luka is the only mature one in Marinette’s life in her friend group. He’s one of the biggest motivators in Marinette’s life as of recent. Putting her interests at heart that have helped her build her confidence. We know Marinette has a frenzied lifestyle with everything that she has on her shoulders as well as her passions. And Luka is one of the very few, if not, only one in her friend group that can calm Marinette and help her slow down and simply relax.

I know Adrinette is endgame, but I won’t deny when I say if there was anything that ML could do, is that they make Adrigami and Lukanette endgame. So many shows always pair the two main characters, always. If there is any message that I would have loved to see come from a show like ML, it would simply be “Your first love/crush will not always be the one and that’s okay. That your first crush/love could be the greatest friendship you ever have. And the second chances in your life are just as valuable as the first and may be even better for you.”

Fans might hate Kagami and Luka, but as far as I’m concerned from everything I’ve watched since the beginning, the only reason you’re getting your Adrinette in the end is all because of Luka. If it weren’t for him majority of the time, y’all wouldn’t have half of your love square moments. So, Luka is the true MVP in my book. Because unlike many of the others, he doesn’t put pressure on Marinette and that’s what Marinette doesn’t need right now, more pressure.

Adrien and Marinette might be endgame, but those two need people outside of their classmates because everyone is too tunnel vision. Luka and Kagami are the only ones that will help Adrien and Marinette mature, cause those two will not be able to do it themselves. So, if you want your Adrinette, you’re gonna have to suffer through Lukanette and Adrigami.

#ml #ml spoilers #ml ny special #ml ny special spoilers #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #kagami tsuguri #adrinette #adrienette #lukanette #adrigami #bbwoulf opinions #bbwoulf's review

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 3 years

Text

Eccentricity [Chapter 10: Stay, I Need To Be Myself]

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the fluffy times while they lasted. 😉

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: “Where Were You When The Sky Opened Up” by The Dangerous Summer.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual references (not graphic), angstttttttttt.

Word Count: 6k.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @bramblesforbreakfast @maggieroseevans @culturefiendtrashqueen @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @escabell @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee @deacyblues @tensecondvacation @brianssixpence @some-major-ishues @haileymorelikestupid @youngpastafanmug @simonedk

Uninvited

“Hey, it’s our song!” Joe turned up the radio as he steered his Subaru down the Lees’ cobblestone driveway and into a parking spot facing the woods. We’d been back from Chicago for a full week now, and—with the notable exceptions of classes and the early morning hours when Joe soundlessly crept out of my bedroom window—were very rarely apart.

“And I would do anything for love

I’d run right into hell and back

I would do anything for love

I’d never lie to you and that's a fact.”

“Uh, this is not our song,” I objected, the soles of my shoes propped against the dashboard. “I was not consulted. A couple’s official song cannot be a unilateral decision.”

“But I'll never forget the way you feel right now

Oh no, no way

And I would do anything for love

Oh I would do anything for love

I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that

No, I won’t do that.”

“Oh okay, what are you, the relationship police? Alright, Chief Baby Swan, let’s hear your brilliant suggestion. Wait, let me guess. Something by The Killers. Vampire Weekend. My Bloody Valentine. Is there a band called Chipotle Veggie Bowl?”

“Never Gonna Give You Up?” I suggested.

He laughed, dragging me over the center console and into his lap. “Oh, you are the worst!”

I straddled him in the driver’s seat, cupped his face in my palms, giggled as I touched my lips to his, soft and cool and lithe and inviting. When I broke the kiss, Joe pulled me back in, knotting his fingers through my hair. The way my thighs fit perfectly around him; that sharp, instinctual, now so familiar ache of longing. “I want you,” I breathed.

He pretended to be scandalized. “Right now? At this exact moment? In my parents’ driveway?”

“Yeah,” I confessed.

He grinned, unbuckling his belt. “Okay.”

“Really?!”

“Yes. I’ve lost all sense of decency. I’m an animal. You’ve absolutely ruined me.” His hands travelled beneath my U Chicago sweatshirt and tore it over my head. Yes, he had converted me to Chicago apparel. It was very embarrassing. Let’s move on.

“I’m sorry,” I moaned softly. I lied. I wasn’t sorry at all.

“I think we might need to get our own place.”

“Why?”

“Because I love the way you ruin me. And I want you to do it...” He went on, kissing me after each word: “All. The. Fucking. Time.”

I yanked off his Cubs t-shirt in one vicious tug. “We’re okay out here?” I didn’t really care; I should have, I was aware of that. But I didn’t. The Lees, most likely, would not call my dad to report us for public indecency. I could imagine Scarlett’s voice in my head, warm with approval: Get it, girl.

“Totally. And we’re far enough away from the house, Rami shouldn’t be able to hear us.” Joe nipped lightly down the side of my neck: carefully, always so carefully.

“He’d only get your side of things anyway.”

“Well yeah, that’s what I’m worried about! Your thoughts wouldn’t be so intrusive. I don’t care if he knows I’m a fantastic lay.”

“Oh, are you?” I teased, grinding my hips against him. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Joe smiled as he unbuttoned my jeans, deliciously slowly. “Well let me...just...refresh your...memory...”

I kissed him, roughly and deeply, arching into him, biting his lower lip. Yes, yes, yes...

Joe pulled away, still smiling but blinking and dazed. “Wow, all the sudden I feel...like...really calm.”

“Thanks...?” A week of almost constant sex might do that to a person. Sure, maybe, what did I know? My lips found his again. My hand skated down his bare stomach and into the waistband of his boxers. Joe began to help me peel off my jeans; then he stopped.

“Wait wait wait, I know this feeling.” Joe lifted me off of him and pushed me back into the passenger’s seat, gently but stubbornly. I tried not to be offended.

“What—?”

“Shhh.” He grabbed the headrest of my seat and twisted around to peer out of the rear windshield. I followed his gaze. There was a new car in the driveway, parked up by the front porch: an anonymous black Honda Civic. The plate said California. It was probably a rental. “Oh fuck,” Joe whispered. His eyes were enormous, glassy, horrified.

“What is it?”

“Stay here.” He threw on his Cubs t-shirt, zipped his pants, fastened his belt. “Stay down, stay quiet. And no matter what happens do not get out of this car, do you understand me?”

“Joe, why—?”

“Do you understand me?” His voice was low but severe, so incredibly unlike him; his dark eyes were flinty. Just like that night with the apples in Mercy’s kitchen, that night when Ben almost...

“I understand,” I heard myself reply.

“Good.” Joe climbed out of the Subaru—smoothing his shirt and then his tousled hair—and rushed over to intercept the unsolicited guest. I peeked around my headrest to watch, my right palm braced against the center console, that feverish lust that had been rushing through my bloodstream gradually weakening, perishing, vanishing like seawater baked from the sand under a rising sun.

The stranger stepped out of the Honda Civic, and although I knew his face, it took me a moment to place him. It was like—I could only imagine, having never been myself—a child stumbling into their movie heroines and beloved stuffed animals come to life during their first trip to Disneyland, amazed and yet somehow gut-twistingly uneasy as they gawked up at that grotesquely inflated cartoon face, that mask of lipstick and rouge that didn’t quite match their recollections, that dreamlike mirage plucked from pages or screens and impelled into a physical form that suddenly swallowed up space and gravity and oxygen. I had seen this stranger before in the massive painting that adorned Gwilym Lee’s upstairs office.

Cato.

He was very tall and very beautiful, classically beautiful, Ben-level beautiful. Joe often jokingly referred to him as Idris Elba within the Lee household, and a mid-thirties version of Idris Elba was just about right. He wore an immaculately tailored grey suit and aviator sunglasses, which he removed to greet Joe, folding and then sliding them smoothly into the front pocket of his suit jacket. His face was solemn and observant; he had a closely-trimmed beard without a fleck of silver. He extended a hand, which Joe shook.

“Hey, Cato!” I heard Joe say, muffled through the walls of the Subaru. I couldn’t make out Cato’s replies; his voice sounded deep, rumbling, extremely level. “So nice of you to stop by! I didn’t know you were in town. Yeah, everyone’s doing great. Even Ben. Hahaha, yeah, you know how he is. You know exactly how he is. But it’s all good. Well look, I’m just gonna go run a friend home and then I’ll be back in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes and we can all chat. Okay? Awesome. Feel free to head inside, I’m sure Mercy would be thrilled to play hostess. There’s sweet tea in the fridge and a hummingbird cake on the counter and...oh, something else too...some weird type of cookies she baked this morning. Help yourself. I’ll be back before you can say ‘tyrannical vampire murder cult.’”

“Tyrannical vampire murder cult,” it looked like Cato replied without a hint of a smile. But he wasn’t paying attention to Joe anymore. His eyes had found the Subaru, and then me; he was staring with that intense, seeking bewilderment that reminded me of Rami and Lucy and Ben when I’d first met them, when they were still trying to puzzle out why my mind (and my mind alone) was a night-draped, silent ocean of the unknown.

He's trying to read me, I realized. He’s trying to read me and he can’t.

Joe was jogging back to the Subaru now. At last, Cato turned away from me and headed into the house. The carved pumpkins from Weber’s Farm still lined the front porch: Scarlett’s Thunderbird, Archer’s Vantage, Rami’s swooping bat, Lucy’s moon and stars, Joe’s moustached jack-o-lantern, my (but actually Gwil’s) snapshot under the sea, Ben’s miniature Lee residence complete with the winding cobblestone driveway. Joe swept into the driver’s seat, adjusted his rearview mirror, and spun out of the parking spot.

“Goddammit,” he hissed as we barreled down the driveway.

“Why is Cato here?”

“I have no idea.” Joe looked straight ahead as he drove, preoccupied, consumed with possibilities. His fingers drummed the steering wheel. “We have to pay dues to them, all the covens do. Gwil cuts a check. But that’s not until around the New Year. That’s almost always when Cato stops by. Collects the payment, interrogates us in a way that masquerades as conversation, hangs around town for a few days, reports back whatever we’re up to...which usually isn’t much. Holidays with the extended family, gotta love it. I don’t know why he would be here now.” Joe shook his head. “Maybe something to do with Ben. It would have to be Ben. There’s no other reason.”

“And you don’t want him to know about me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“But...Cato isn’t all that dangerous,” I said, not understanding. “Is he?”

“Not alone, no. But the people he works for are.” Joe sighed, glancing over at me as he drove, serious and sorry and sad. “There’s a lot of violence in my world. A lot of darkness. I’ve tried to protect you from that as much as possible. And maybe I’ve done too good a job, maybe it’s too easy for you to forget what we really are. Most vampires aren’t like Gwil’s coven. They’re not like me. They kill easily and unrepentantly. And I don’t want any of them knowing that you exist, that you’re a weakness of ours. I want them to know as little about you as physically possible.”

“A weakness,” I repeated. I didn’t like that.

He smiled faintly. “It’s a compliment to be somebody’s weakness, Baby Swan.”

“I guess so.” The towering pine trees whipped by in a verdant blur. The sky above was thick and grey and churning. “You’ll be okay, right? Ben will be okay?”

Joe seemed to find that amusing, ridiculous even. “You don’t need to worry about us.”

“But I still do.”

“We’ll work it out, whatever it is. Cato is a reasonable guy. And Ben is definitely capable of...well. Advocating for himself.”

Capable of unparalleled carnage, he means. The memory of the first day I’d met Ben hit me like a hurled stone, illuminated my mind like a pulsing neon sign: the coiled tension in his muscles, that mindless, animalistic hatred in his eyes. Yes, he must be quite the monster when he wants to be. But he didn’t want to be anymore. I knew that completely, unquestioningly.

Joe pulled into Charlie’s driveway. The police car was gone; my 1999 Honda Accord and Charlie’s Toyota Corolla rested idly side by side. My dad would be working late tonight, until eight or nine at least. A pang of loneliness struck in my gut, just beneath the ribs; I had grown so accustomed to the absence of solitude, of quiet. The silence suddenly felt so loud.

“Don’t let it ruin your night,” Joe said as I got out of the Subaru. His words were affectionate; but his voice was still distracted, distant. “Don’t let it bother you. Everything will be fine, I promise. And as soon as Cato’s gone, everything will go back to the way it should be.”

“Okay,” I replied, not feeling very comforted at all. I don’t like the way he pushed me off him when he saw the car. The way he’s barely looked at me since. The way he called me a weakness.

Joe was already checking his mirrors, preparing to leave.

“Hey. Mob guy.” I leaned into the rolled-down window. “I love you.”

And the grin lit up Joe’s face like the sun. He crawled across the passenger’s seat, drew me into him by the collar of my brand new U Chicago hoodie, kissed me until that wild, interrupted desire was flaring up again in my arteries and nerve endings and everywhere else. The thunderous clouds in my skull split open. Everything’s still okay. It really is. “I love you to death. And then back again.” He retreated and shifted the Subaru into reverse. “I’ll see you soon. But maybe not too soon, I might be tied up with this family thing for a while. Don’t wait up tonight.”

“No problem. I’ll just call one of my other monster boyfriends to keep me company. The werewolf should be free. It’s not a full moon, is it?”

“No bestiality,” Joe retorted sternly. “That’s illegal, ma’am.”

I smiled and waved as the Subaru swerved out of the driveway and disappeared. Everything’s okay, I told myself, standing in the front yard under darkening skies. Everything will be okay.

And I kept telling myself that, again and again like Hail Marys, until I was dozing off in my bed alone six hours later.

Hit It And Quit It

I dreamed of the beach at La Push—my toes wriggling beneath the cold sand, the ricocheting cries of seagulls, the primordial growl of the frothing waves—and woke up with the ghost of saltwater in my sinuses. I grabbed my iPhone off the nightstand. Two new texts: one from Archer—Hey would it be distasteful or hilarious to dress up as Dracula for the Lee Halloween party? Asking for a friend.—and one from Jessica asking if she could copy my Marine Botany homework. Absolutely nothing from Joe.

When was the last time I didn’t have a text from Joe waiting for me in the morning? I struggled to remember, my mind still foggy with snippets of dreams. A week? Two weeks? A month? It felt like forever.

I tapped out a text to Joe with my clumsy, just-waking-up thumbs: I am resolved. No more nights with my werewolf boyfriend. Dude scratched the hell out of me and then barked at the mailman. Had to drop him off at the SPCA for neutering. See you soon! xxxx

I tried not to obsessively check my phone as I showered, got dressed, gathered my textbooks and notepads and pens. And yet still, I noticed: Joe didn’t text me back.

The rain poured from a grey sky all through my drive to Calawah University, Marine Botany class with Jessica, our frantic dash across campus beneath her hot pink umbrella to Forks And Spoons. My human friends had custody of me during lunchtime today. Angela was studying for a Computer Science quiz, Eric working on an article for the Calawah Chatterbox, Mike histrionically lamenting a sprained ankle coming just on the cusp of basketball season. Jessica bought me a chocolate chip muffin as thanks for texting her a picture of our Marine Botany homework this morning. Ah, the sweet taste of academic dishonesty.

I was relieved—more than I would have liked to admit—that all five Lees were at their usual lunch table, looking worn and tired but normal enough. Ben was hiding behind a pair of sunglasses and his black U Chicago hoodie that Joe and I had bought for him last weekend, sipping steaming tea out of a mug that he gripped with both hands. Scarlett flipped moodily through an astrophysics textbook. Rami repeatedly tapped the tabletop with a pen while Lucy knitted a lavender sweater, never raising her eyes from the jumble of yarn in her lap. They all murmured to each other in low, furtive voices, their mouths barely moving. Joe gave me a wave and a drawn smile; but only after I waved first.

Angela was now scolding Jessica for her lack of moral integrity.

Jess rolled her eyes, gnawing on a chicken finger that was burned black around the edges. “I’m here ostensibly to become an anthropologist and in actuality to find a hot rich husband, not to learn how to identify like sixty different types of algae.”

“Then why even take Marine Botany?” Angela asked, confounded.

“Calawah University forces every student to take at least two science classes, even if you’re a humanities major. Because they’re fucking fascists.”

“Oh, fascists, a big word for you!” I congratulated Jessica, patting her shoulder before returning my attention to my homemade veggie quesadilla and leftover slice of Mercy’s hummingbird cake. I was getting so good at this eating respectable meals thing. Joe would be proud.

Angela chuckled. “How’s that finding a husband thing going, by the way?”

“Awfully,” Jessica sighed. “I had this really promising flirtationship going with a frat boy in my Indigenous Peoples of the Arctic class. Ellsworth Jonathan Griffin, gorgeous blue eyes, blond man bun, his dad is a partner at a corporate law firm in Los Angeles. That’s the stuff dreams are made of. But I’m pretty sure he dropped out because I haven’t seen him in a few days. Also he would bring Absolut vodka to class in an Aquafina bottle.”

“You can probably do better,” I said.

“Well we can’t all end up with Lee boys, now can we?” Jess snapped irritably.

When it was time to depart for our afternoon classes, I met Joe in the doorway of Forks And Spoons, linked my fingers around the back of his neck, tugged at his dark, auburn-tinted hair.

“You okay, mob guy? You seem a little...” Exhausted? Edgy? Sad? “...Distracted.”

“I’m good. I’m great.” He kissed me briefly, fleetingly. No big deal; after all, we were in public. Right? “Are you cool to hang out later?”

“Absolutely. Can we go to La Push if it stops raining? I know it’ll be cold, but I woke up with the beach on my mind and haven’t been able get it out all day.”

“You got it. Can I meet you there? I have to take care of a few things first. Have to, uh, hunt.”

I stared up at him, feeling my stomach drop, feeling rapidly and jarringly off-kilter. Joe rarely mentioned hunting around me...not in a serious way, at least. It was one of those things that knocked me out of the fantasy of how compatible we were, how possible. It was a reminder of all those interminable differences that lived in the hushed space between us. “Okay.”

“I’ll...I’ll explain everything then. At La Push.”

“Okay,” I said again, very uncleverly. What’s going on here? What exactly did Cato say?

Joe smirked; finally a flash of playfulness, that contagious light he was built of. He smoothed my hair with one feather-light stroke of his hand, touched his lips to my forehead. “Don’t be late to Chemistry. I can’t have you failing out.”

“Of course not. How would I be able to get my Marine Biology PhD from U Chicago?”

But Joe didn’t laugh, didn’t even smile; he just left.

Ben was hunched over our table in Professor Belvin’s classroom, his arms encircling his notebook, the pen in his hand scribbling frenziedly. The window was wide open; the rain outside had weakened to a docile drizzle. He was still wearing his sunglasses. He didn’t acknowledge me at all.

“Rough night?” I asked, sliding into the seat beside him.

“Yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I definitely do not.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him. Ben glanced up, his thick eyebrows raised; they peaked just above the rims of his opaque sunglasses. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

For a long time, Ben just looked at me; maybe wanting to say something, maybe just feeling that decorum necessitated it. “You shouldn’t be,” he replied at last. And he spent the rest of class paying no attention whatsoever to Professor Belvin’s lecture on the Pauli exclusion principle and instead scrawling untidy Welsh phrases into the formerly pristine pages of his notebook.

It was just after 5 p.m. when I arrived at La Push, the tires of my 1999 Honda Accord crunching over the gravel of the small parking area, the wind whipping ferociously. Joe had gotten there first; he was sitting on a rock down by the water with his back to me, peering out over the Pacific Ocean, tossing pebbles and shells into the waves. We had an hour of daylight left. The sky was obscure, grey, dim. Fine droplets of rain like mist sailed through the biting autumn air and clung to my skin.

When Joe spotted me, he leapt off the rock and watched me approach with his hands in the pockets of his North Face jacket. He wasn’t wearing anything Chicago-related today, which was highly unusual. I waited for him to touch me, to hold me, to tell me that everything was okay and always would be...at least for the next ten to fifteen years. He didn’t. “Hey,” he said instead.

“Hi.”

Joe nodded down the beach. “Let’s walk.”

I have never been especially good at mundane, monotonous rambling. That’s a Scorpio thing. And yet monotonous rambling is exactly what I did: I prattled on about my classes, Charlie’s bowling league, Renee’s new life in Florida with Paul, the ocean, the weather, anything to fill that space between us that all at once felt so enormously significant. I was vaguely aware that I was afraid to stop talking; I didn’t want Joe to have the chance to say whatever was on his mind.

Finally, Joe stopped walking. He took my hand, ran his thumb over the faint scar from when I accidentally cut myself in Mercy’s kitchen. His shoes sank into the wet sand, left imprints there like fingerprints. He turned to face me, pained, grave, and oh god, far worse: guilty.

“What?” I asked, terror swelling in my lungs, my bones, some inborn warning of impending ruin.

Joe gazed out over the crashing sea, then came back to me, like a dislocated joint popping back into place. “I am so sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I...” He spoke slowly, haltingly. “I thought that this was something that was doable. But I was wrong.”

“What...?” And then a possibility occurred to me, a glorious possibility. Of course. A grin erupted across my face. “This is a joke, right? You’re joking, you’re always joking, this is just—”

He shook his head. He wasn’t joking. I wrenched my hand out of his and stared up at him in furious disbelief.

“It’s not fair to you,” Joe said. “This thing, being with someone like me. I can’t give you a future. I can’t give you an uncomplicated existence. I mean, come on, you have to worry about getting murdered around my own family—”

“Do you have fucking amnesia?” I demanded, incredulous. “Joe, we just talked about this. We just made plans to move to Chicago after graduation, we agreed that it was what we both wanted. I don’t want a normal human boyfriend. I don’t want normal human in-laws. I want you, Joe, and Ben, and Mercy and Gwil, and Rami and Lucy and Scarlett, I want the whole ridiculous Lee family package and there’s nothing you could say to make me decide that this isn’t worth it.”

“Look—”

“No, something happened, right? Something happened with Cato, or Ben, or someone, something happened and now you think that you have to do this but I’m telling you that whatever it is we can figure it out, we can figure it out together, isn’t that what you promised me?” He said he wouldn’t leave. He promised me he wouldn’t leave. All those things...all those things he said...

“Listen.” And now his eyes were stony. He didn’t call me Baby Swan. Oh, this is bad. This is so bad. “It’s not fair to me either.”

“And that’s what this is really about,” I realized. My voice was abruptly fierce, caustic. All those other women; those beautiful, graceful, immortal women. How did I ever think I could compare?

“It’s not personal.”

“It’s the most personal thing there is, Joe, it’s pasts and futures and love—”

“It’s not though.” He smiled, just barely. “Maybe we thought it was, but it’s not.”

It hit me like a brick, like a bullet; I couldn’t catch my breath. I was drowning in thin air, like a sawfish, like a shark. “Well I’m glad you figured that out on your own fucking schedule.”

“This was my fault,” he said. “All of it. And I am so profoundly sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, and I take full responsibility for it. I hope you’re able to move on knowing that there’s nothing you could have done differently. These are just the realities of my world. You’re better off in your own. And you’re going to make someone very happy someday.”

It's all so empty, so excruciatingly generic. “You’re a monster,” I seethed at him, tears stinging in my eyes.

“Yes,” Joe agreed softly.

“I hate you.” I wasn’t sure if I meant that, but I still said it. Maybe I could will it into being true, like how people find God after a particularly grim diagnosis; there’s no harm in trying to make it real. There’s nothing left to lose.

“That would be more than fair, given the circumstances,” he said. “I won’t bother you again. I’ll ask you to do the same for me.”

“Sure.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks now; my breaths were ragged, hitching. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from him.

A shadow of concern crossed his face, the first one I had noticed since yesterday afternoon. “If you need someone to drive you home, I’d be happy to—”

“I’d literally rather die.” And I left Joseph Francis Mazzello standing on the beach with the twilight wind in his hair and the sun setting behind him like time slipping through an hourglass.

I fled to my Honda, turned the keys in the ignition, covered my face with my hands and wept in raw, heaving shudders as Hungry Like The Wolf played from the mixtape that Joe had left in my cassette player. I ejected the mixtape, rolled down my window, tossed it out onto the rain-slick gravel. I couldn’t stand the thought of going home. Charlie would be at work until late tonight; Joe would never set foot in the house again.

I have to go somewhere. I can’t just sit in that goddamn bedroom. I can’t be alone.

I wheeled my car onto the main road and drove until I came to an unceremonious mechanic’s garage with a fractured concrete floor and cracks like spider legs across the windows. When I stepped out of my Honda, Archer raced over to meet me, beaming and wiping his hands clean with an oil rag.

“Hey, you know you’re not allowed to come here unless you bring Taco Bell with you...” Then he saw me, he really saw me. “Whoa, what—?”

And Archer caught me as I collapsed into his arms, sobs ripping through my throat like fangs.

Benjamin, 24 Hours Earlier

It was bad. Whatever this was, it was bad.

I knew because Rami could read Cato, and I could read Rami; the hazy wisps of color that unfurled from him were a hectic, wrestling electric blue: distress, grief, anxiety, denial. Cato’s own aura had always been rather unforthcoming—he tended towards deep, mellow greens and purples of congruence and contemplation—and forever tinted with an opalescent quality that spread like wildfire to the people around him, the people who were under his influence, that intangible calming and harmonizing effect, that irrational sense of wellbeing. Everyone in the room had that faint opalescence shimmering around them now, even Rami, whose unspoken turmoil remained a roiling rather than a storm. And I thought—not for the first time—that if Larkin was a spade that hollowed you out, scraped along the jagged snags of your split bones to empty you of any ambitions and loyalties that had come before, then Cato was the anesthetic that made the mangling go down smoother, the promise that you would someday still catch glimpses of innocence. Larkin was a purger, a purifier; Cato made you believe again.

There were pitchers of sweet tea and a heaping tray of butter pecan cookies on the living room coffee table. Cato sat on the neat white sofa, one leg crossed over the other, stoic, waiting. Rami stared vacantly from the loveseat; Lucy was beside him, her delicate bare feet tucked beneath her and her fingers laced through Rami’s, her brow knit into grooves of worry. Scarlett was next to me on the largest couch, her boots propped up on the edge of the coffee table, her hair in a long French braid, periodically cracking her knuckles. It was nearly the only sound. Mercy bustled around the room gifting everyone tall chilled glasses of sweet tea; Gwil stood by the virtual fireplace on the big-screen tv, his hands in his pockets, his lips pressed into a rigid line.

The front door opened, and Joe stepped inside, his car keys rattling in his fist. For as long as I’d known him, his color had so often been a bright and buttery yellow, his aura more visible and constant than anyone else’s. Lately, he was increasingly cloaked in the rosy pinks of love or the vivid, shifting, crimson reds of lust; and Rami and I bonded over our shared efforts to politely ignore that particular variety of thoughts.

Joe pointed to Cato. “What’s going on?”

“How long?” Cato asked him.

Joe feigned cluelessness. “Huh? What do you mean? Oh, car chick?! That’s nothing. She’s just a friend.”

Cato blinked. “Do you really think I just arrived in Forks today?”

It rolled through Joe like a wave: surrender, apprehension, dread. The realization that Cato had been watching us for days, weeks even, meticulously keeping just enough distance to stay out of Rami’s range of hearing. Joe’s now-opalescent aura dipped from cerise to an agitated mahogany. “Two months.”

“And she’s talented.” Cato’s voice was impatient, incredulous; How could you be this stupid? that voice said.

“No,” Joe flared, like shards of wood cracking in a fire. “No, she’s got nothing to do with you, with us. With our world. She’s got nothing to do with it.”

Cato circled the fingerprint of his index finger around the rim of his misted glass of sweet tea, meditative. “In one hundred and seventy years, I have never met someone who I couldn’t find if I wanted to. And yet the second I turned my back on that girl, she was gone. Vanished. The world was a blank map. How is that possible?”

No one said anything. Finally, Cato looked to Rami.

“You can’t hear her thoughts, can you?”

“No,” Rami admitted.

“And how many times has that happened in...how old are you now, the same as Ben? How many times in the past century have you met someone who made you feel normal, weak even? Who made you feel human again?”

“Never,” Rami conceded.

“You too, right?” Cato asked me. “You can’t see what she’s feeling. She’s nothing but white noise.”

I nodded reluctantly.

“She’s talented,” Cato said again, decisive.

“Oh god,” I choked out, burying my face in my hands. Now I knew what Rami had heard. I knew everything.

Joe shook his head almost violently. “No, that’s not fair. There’s no way of knowing if that would translate to life as a vampire or how it would manifest. There’s no way of knowing if she would survive the transition at all. And none of us are ever going to find out because she has nothing to do with our world.”

“She does,” Cato insisted. “Because you brought her into it.”

Scarlett shivered beside me, crossed her arms over her chest, clutched her leather jacket tighter. “You can’t be serious, Cato. You’re not a monster, you know she might not survive—”

“And that would stop Gwil. It would stop me, sure. When has it ever stopped Larkin?” Cato gestured to me. “With him? With me? With Akari or Araminta or Liesl or Rigel or all the ones who didn’t make it, who died screaming as they scorched from the inside out? It has never stopped him because he doesn’t care. He finds talented people. He covets them, covets them jealously, like jewels or money or lovers. And they either become one of his possessions or they become nothing at all.”

“No,” Joe whispered. “No, no, no...”

Rami was shrinking into the loveseat, overwhelmed by the emotions in the room that were dragging his aura into whirling greys, those desperate and dark thoughts; not even Cato could mute them entirely. Lucy tried to soothe him, laid the back of her fine-boned hand against his cheek. Mercy covered her gaping mouth. Gwil studied the floor, thunderstruck, absorbing it all.

“This is a courtesy that I’m doing you right now,” Cato told Joe, his large palms clasped together, his voice sorrowful and yet unyielding, almost pleading. “This is a warning. If he finds out about her, about what she can do...he’s going to want her. And he gets everything he wants.”

“He can’t find out,” Gwil said hoarsely.

“No,” I agreed. Death or a hundred-year sentence. Either way, a part of you dies. Either way, a part of you ends up in a box six feet underground and clawing for the sun.

“What can we do?” Scarlett asked Cato. “I mean...is there anything we can do?”

“You have to get rid of her. That’s her only chance. Get her out of your orbit, away from our world, away from where Larkin or anyone who serves him would ever cross her path. I won’t tell him about the girl. I’ll try to deflect his attention. If she’s already been spotted, I’ll tell him that she’s useless, just another one of Joe’s litany of casual liaisons. And that’s a risk I’ll take, I’ll do it out of respect for your coven, Dr. Lee, and for Ben. But there is absolutely nothing I can do for you if Larkin finds out for himself. I don’t think I’m the only one he has watching you.”

“Of course not,” I said bitterly. “I’m sure he has all sorts of eyes on me. The white whale. The one that got away.” This is my fault. It’s all my fucking fault.

“It’s not,” Rami murmured; and nobody else heard my side of it, but I think they understood.

Joe’s aura was now murky, sunless, almost black. It was a color I hadn’t thought he was capable of. His eyes were slick and bleary.

“Son?” Gwil prompted. Mercy was sobbing into a handkerchief patterned with roses. Mom, I ached instinctively, before pushing the thought away.

“I won’t do it,” Joe said. “You’re asking me to break her heart and I won’t do it.”

I begged: “Joe, you don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand! You don’t understand what this will do to her, what it’s going to do to her for the weeks and months and years that come after, she might never forget—”

“Do you want her to end up dead or in a hundred-year contract?” Cato shot back. “Do you want to see how much of that girl you care about so much is left after a century with Larkin?”

Everyone’s eyes fell on me. I could feel them, full of pity and horror. I’m what’s left. Someone gutted of everything but rage and bloodlust.

“No, of course not,” Joe said. Thanks a lot, brother.

Cato smirked without any humor at all. He had known. “Then the choice is easy.”

“Son,” Gwil said again.

Joe gazed back at him with huge, agonized eyes. His words were brittle, raspy, hollow. “Dad, I love her.”

“I know,” Gwil replied. His aura was a blue like cobalt: profound sympathy, compassion, mourning. “And that’s why you’ll do the right thing.”

Twenty minutes later, I was puffing on my vape pen as I paced back and forth across the wrap-around porch like a caged bear, watching the sun disappear behind the western hemlock trees that raked the clouds. Gwil, Rami, Lucy, and Scarlett were with Joe; Mercy was trying to convince Cato to stay the night in one of the guest bedrooms. I could hear her ludicrously gracious protestations through the walls. “We know it’s not your fault, dear, this...this...situation. We know you’re just the messenger. And you’ve been so important to Ben all these years, so kind. It’s really no trouble at all...here, let me at least wrap up some cake for you to take...”

The front door opened and closed. Scarlett appeared beside me, resting her forearms on the porch railing. She sighed, closed her eyes, said nothing.

“This is going to destroy him,” I told her.

Scarlett nodded, her face bathed in silvery moonlight, marvelous and yet forlorn. The aura that surrounded her was a deep, despondent indigo. It matched the sky. “Yeah.”

“And to think...” I exhaled heavily, nicotine-tinged vapor vanishing into the damp night air. Rain was coming; I could feel it in my bones. “I was just beginning to like it here.”

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ericssmile · 4 years

Text

let me adore you || eric.n

warning(s): reader being an absolute clutz; swearing; really not that much tbh; oh yeah, and even more shit writing

pairing: eric nam x reader

genre: friends-to-lovers; fluff; maybe some angst if you look close enough; a little bit of crack

author: @ericssmile

summary: to put it simple, you and Eric are best friends who, of course, both have feelings for one another, but are just too darn scared to say anything about it (or just won’t admit to it)

word count: 4.2k

Part One of ??

a/n: I am so sorry... this is probably shite but oh well 😅

||𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚢𝚕𝚎𝚜' 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘)||

Shit. Shit! SHIT!

How, and I mean how could this happen to all people?? One minute you were in San Francisco with your handbag that literally had EVERY essential and necessity of yours, like for one, your phone and wallet! Two things that you need to oh, I don’t know, survive?! And then the next thing, you were in Sydney Australia without it.

You left your shit in another country. That’s all the way on the other side of the fricken planet.

Great. Fucking fantastic.

Now some bastard probably found it and is spending all your god damn money and doing only god knows what with your phone. Not like they could do much with it, cause after all, there is a password on it.

Oh fuck! Shit. Fuck. Crap! Without your phone you can’t cancel your damn bank accounts. Well.. there goes all of your savings.

Just think to yourself right now; was it really worth going on tour with your best friend who happens to be Eric Nam? In a way, yes it’s worth it cause um, hello, travelling for free? Who could say no to that?

A mad person that’s who.

Eric and you had become instant friends when you first went over to Korea to study abroad. You were extremely nervous and a little scared, as you had moved to a completely different country, where you would have to learn a new language to be able to understand some things and be by yourself. No family. No friends. Just you.

2nd June, 2011

The streets were quiet. The breeze oh so nice, and so very calming. Felt like a new beginning. Well, it pretty much was. You did move to a whole new country after all. A country where you barely spoke the language and only knew bits and pieces of the culture, but you’d learn the longer you lived in Korea.

You were walking along the streets of Seoul, taking everything in. The way that the streets looked at night; you stopped every now and then to take it all in, even to window shop (even though the shops were shut, but window shopping never hurt anyone).

When you finished unpacking all your items from their required boxes, you were feeling quite peckish and had remembered seeing a little convenience store on the way to your apartment. Luckily it wasn’t that far from your place, so you had loaded up your ‘Google Maps’ app on your phone, letting it be your guide to what will be your new local store. And that leads to now. On a slow stroll to find something to eat.

Letting out a deep, yet tired sigh, you kept on walking, looking down at your phone every now and then to see how close you were to the store. And soon enough, the bright green and blue lights came into your line of vision which was soon followed by a rather loud rumble from your tummy.

As you walked closer to the store, you locked your phone and placed it in your jacket pocket and your hands placed in the back pocket of your jean shorts. You watched your feet lead the way, the lights getting brighter and brighter with every step. Every now and then, you avoid the cracks, cause ya know, ‘step on a crack and you break your mama’s back’. Although you never believed it, you just simply did it out of pure boredom.

And even though you had been watching your feet, you still managed to trip over something and lose your footing completely. It was like slow motion. Like how you’d see it in the movies and cruddy, predictable as fuck tv shows.

As you were falling, you took notice of a slightly tall figure in front of you, dashing his way towards you to prevent you from falling flat on your face.

But, he too eventually tripped over his own footing and somehow managed to land on the pavement just before you. Unfortunately for him though, you had fallen directly on him.

What a way to start your new life in Korea!

As you landed on top of the man, he let out a loud groan of pain. That alone was enough to send you into a slight panic; the thought of you actually hurting someone? Yeah, that just doesn’t sit right with you. You could barely hurt a fly! Now, spiders on the other hand… they’re a different story.

You let out a small squeak of shock, trying your hardest to push yourself off of the stranger without hurting him even more than you already have.

“Oh my gosh! I am so, so sorry!” You say frantically, finally getting back onto your feet. You held your hands out to the stranger , offering to help him back up. “Shit!” you cursed under your breath, slightly freaking out and wondering if this man even understood you or not.

But really, you had nothing to worry about. Though you were too much in a frantic headspace today even comprehend the soft smile and quiet giggle the stranger let out as he got back to his feet. With your assistance of course.

And there you were. Face to face with the stranger you literally saved you from ruining your face. Not gonna lie, he was pretty cute. Quite tall too. Well, really, for you any guy who’s over 5’0 is taller than you.

“I am so, sorry.” The words came out slow, in hopes that the stranger could speak and understand even the tiniest bit of English; your eyes as wide as a doe, still in a panic that somehow you could’ve severely injured the cute stranger.

To your surprise, the man chuckled and smiled wide. Gosh, even his smile was to freaking die for. Like seriously, it’s so perfect? How? But seeing this has calmed down your nerves a little bit. You watched as he ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, his smile never fading away. “It’s okay, honestly.” As he spoke, he made direct eye contact with you and shrugged his shoulders slightly. But God, even his freaking voice was literal heaven. “I kinda brought it on myself really.”

Are you sure you’re not dead? Cause this man is like a living angel.

You laughed softly and smiled, watching as he rubbed the back of his neck out of embarrassment. At least you assume it’s because of that. Moving towards him, you nudge your shoulder against his, smiling even more. “How about we just say that it’s both our faults and admit that we’re both a clutz.” You compromised, raising your eyebrows as you watch the strangers reaction.

You watched as he pondered over his answer for a few seconds, his hand resting under his chin and his pointer finger tapping above his upper lip, like as if he was actually thinking long and hard over his answer. And not a second later, his wide and contagious smile was back, and this time, his hand held out towards you. “Deal.” He says, his eyes watching you. He noticed your eyes light up and how you brought your right hand up to meet his hand, your small, delicate fingers wrapping around his surprisingly soft hand.

As you shook the man's hand, you decided in your head that now was probably a good time to introduce yourself, otherwise this could probably get slightly awkward. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” You smiled, continuing to shake his hand.

You felt him squeezing your hand gently, bringing his other hand on top of yours so then he’s holding your hand with both of his. The action almost made your heart combust. Can this man get any cuter? He smiled once again, making eye contact with you and this time, you could literally see the stars from the night sky shine in them.

“I’m Eric.” He spoke so softly, as if he was lost in a trance of some kind. All you wanted to do in that moment was just take it all in. Remember his smile; remember his sparkling eyes; and most importantly, remember his voice. Cause who knows when you’ll be able to see this man- Eric, again.

You reluctantly let go of Eric’s hand, forever wanting to stay in this moment. All though you just met this man, it almost felt as if it was… destiny. Like as if a Guardian Angel has sent him your way. You could still feel his touch on your skin. Jesus Christ. The fuck is this man doing to your sanity?

“Well, in that case, it was an honour falling for you Eric.” You remarked, a playful tint to your voice and your eyes full of mischief.

Eric cackled loud. So loud that the whole neighbourhood could probably hear him. But you didn’t mind. It was a sound that you most definitely could get used to. It was a contagious kind of laughter, so of course you had to join in.

The laughter lasted for about a minute or two; you doubled over and almost tripped over again because of how hard you were laughing. The comment wasn’t even that funny but Eric’s laugh just made it all the more funny.

Once the both of you calmed down a bit, you smiled wide; Eric doing the same. He chuckled softly to himself, moving his hands to his back pockets and says: “Well Y/N, I could say the same about you.” And for some reason, that comment alone had a whole heard of butterflies fly wild in the pit of your stomach.

You watched as Eric stood closer to you; a whole bunch of scenarios running through your head. Is he going to rob you? Was he faking being all nice just to take advantage of you? As if he would do that… the dude barely looks like he could hurt a fly.

But all the bad scenarios went forgotten once you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, ultimately making you freeze on the spot and your eyes to widen. But oddly enough, you didn’t feel uncomfortable. Normally if any other person did that to you -if you got a real bad vibe from them- you would instantly snatch the persons arm off of you. One time you pulled someone’s arm so hard you heard it crack.

You don’t know what it is but there’s just something so different about Eric. Maybe it’s just him, but it just felt like you’ve known him for years even though it’s only been 10 minutes. But there’s just something… special about Eric; like as if he was sent to you. It’s probably just crazy talk. But you have a good feeling that something great will come out of this interaction.

“Say Y/N,” Eric spoke softly, his gentle voice bringing you back to reality. You smile softly, feeling his left hand squeeze your left shoulder out of comfort and turn your full attention onto him. “Are you by any chance Australian?”

Present Day

“Y/N, it’s not that bad.“ Eric reassures unconvincingly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him as you both walk off the plane together. “I mean, sure, it was a dumb move to forget your bag in another country-“ You slap his chest, glaring up at him. He winces, using his free hand to rub over the area you just hit. With the hand that was around your shoulder, he playfully pinched your skin, causing you to flinch slightly, and removed it with a pout forming on his lips.“That was rude. I didn’t even get to finish my sentence.”

“Go on then.” Rolling your eyes, you rub the spot that stung from Eric’s pinch, forming a pout of your own as you tried to match your pace with Eric’s feet.

Eric smiles softly to himself as he watches you. “But, because of that little incident, why don’t I buy you a new phone?” Your sudden halt in movement concerned the poor boy. As you slowly turned around to face him, you could see slight fear in his eyes. Good. You thought to yourself. He should be scared.

What Eric wasn’t expecting was for you to smack him in the back of the head like as if he was back in high school and his parents found out he did something wrong. All he did was offer you a new phone! The one thing he knew you couldn’t live without!

“You will do no such thing Eric Nam.” Your voice was low and stern, trying to make sure that you got your point across to him. You crossed your arms across your chest, jaw clenched. Although you thought you looked tough, to Eric, you just looked really freaking constipated. Of course you were going to be stubborn about it. Be your own Independent Woman or some crap you always say when you lose something of yours.

Taking cautious steps towards you, his gentle hands reaching for your face, squishing your cheeks together. He cooed and laughed to himself and looked into your eyes. “Y/N,” he sighs, a victorious smile on his lips. “No matter what you say, I’m getting you a phone. Whether you like it or not sweet cheeks.” Eric pats your cheek, blows you a kiss and speeds walk ahead of you like his life depended on it.

All you could do was stand there, shake your head and mumble incoherent words that not even you could understand.

“Eric! Stop! Don’t you dare even think of buying me a phone you shit!” You were not gonna let him buy you a phone. No matter the circumstances.

“Thank you Eric! You’re my life saviour Eric! You’re the bestest friend ever Eric!”

“Shut up shithead.”

Eric was right though. He really was your saviour. He knows how much you loved your phone. You’re practically glued to it 24/7. Most of the time he gets concerned, but it keeps you occupied so he’d leave you be. You won’t tell him he was right though. You still have some sort of ego to keep.

“Besides, I don’t even sound like that.” You roll your eyes, trying to drown out the sound of Eric’s high pitched voice that was supposed to be the way your voice sounded. If anything, it was just offensive in your opinion. You don’t sound like a barbie wannabe.

Eric just laughs, a proud smile on his face. At this point he’s surprised that his mouth hasn’t fallen off with the amount that he’s laughed and smiled today. Must be some kind of record for him. He sighs and notices the car that his manager was driving parked in front of the phone store. His eyes widened as he grabbed your hand, the movement almost causing you to drop your brand new phone as he basically dragged you to the black sedan.

You both hopped into the back, you sitting near one window and him on the other. You rest your head on the back of the seat, smiling to yourself and turn your focus over onto your best friend. The fact that you get to be in your home country with him, just makes this all the more special.

“Welcome home Y/N” You giggle softly, the reality of this all hitting you. You were home. You were back home. Sure you had come to Australia for Christmas (and let’s just say, going from -3 to 35 Celsius is just a lot to get used to) and to see your mum on Mother’s Day to surprise her, but those were all short visits that only lasted at least 3 days. This time, it’ll be a week. A whole week that you get to see your mum, sister, brother and nieces and nephews who you adored so much.

Welcome home indeed.

a/n: here is part one of my Eric Nam story! I thought it’d be best if I split it into parts so then it doesn’t draw on and on with nonsense. But I hope you guys like it and look forward to the next part! I promise it will be more interesting. This is just a start to introduce the characters and how they met and all that jazz.

©ericssmile, 2020; please don’t copy my work without permission or at all

#eric nam #eric nam x reader #kpop x reader #nam yoondo #nam yoondo x reader #eric nam fluff #eric nam fic #nam yoondo fluff #nam yoondo fic #idk what else to tag #also...#can you believe ive had this eric nam fic idea since march?

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

Text

Can’t live without you

Pairing: Stanley Uris x reader (adults)

Synopsis: (Y/N) finds out that her best friend didn’t arrive back in Derry with the rest of the losers club, and finds out that he tried to kill himself. Glimpses of her past with Stan are seen as she visits him in the hospital. Will the best friends that have been pining over each other since they were kids finally get their happy ending, or will Patricia and the very different lives the lead get in the way?

Word count: 5,314 this is a lot more than I originally planned, guess I got carried away.

Warnings: Attempted suicide. Talk of self harm. Blood/gore/violence, typical for the IT fandom. Brief implication of domestic violence from a father and a wife. A little angsty at times, but fluffy. Swearing. Tooth rotting fluff near the end.

A/N: Stan may be OOC, but I tried my hardest for my first IT story. Stan the man Uris is fantastic and deserved so much better. AU where the characters I love don’t die. The reader in this story isn’t Jewish, if you are Jewish, I apologize. There is a cute little story-line that relies heavily on the reader not having the same faith as him.

It had been just over twenty years since you were last in your home town of Derry Maine, and you hadn’t thought if it once. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to remember, you just couldn't. There were days when the name Stan would randomly pop in your head, and from a place buried very deep in the back of your brain, you were sure he was an important person in your adolescent life.

When Mike Hanlon called to tell you that Pennywise was back, your heart started pounding so hard you were convinced it would leap from its place inside your chest. You didn’t exactly remember Pennywise, but you remembered the fear. You also remembered a mop of curly light brown hair that you immediately associated with Stan.

Upon arriving at the Chinese restaurant in Derry flashes of your childhood came back, they were so unfamiliar it was like watching somebody else's life. Stan was the center of almost all of them, your old best friend and boy you had been in love with since you were six. It was great catching up with your old friends, but it didn’t feel right without Stan.

The other six members of the losers club opened their fortune cookies, spelling out; ‘I,’ ‘cut,’ ‘not,’ ‘it,’ ‘guess,’ and ‘could.’ Your heart falls into the pit of your stomach as you open your own and see the thick black letters spelling out Stanley.

“No,” you gasp out a plea to no one in particular. You lean forward and numbly move the papers around to say, ‘I guess Stanley could not cut it.’ The rest of the losers club had remembered enough over dinner to remember just how much Stan meant to you, causing them to stare at you as you try to blink back tears.

The group running from creatures breaking out of fortune cookies happens in a blur, your head isn’t clear until the cool night air hits it. Mike gives you Stan’s number as soon as he comes to his senses. You walk away from the group, wanting privacy for whatever you get on the other end of the call.

“Who is this?” a female voice answers the phone. Your furrow your eyebrows in fear and glance over at Mike who is watching you closely.

“Uh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you state nervously, picking at your already chipped nail polish. “I’m sorry, I thought this was Stan Uris’s number.”

“It is,” the voice says slowly. “How do you know him?”

“We grew up together, we were best friends,” you smile as you remember gripping onto his hand as the wind whipped around you two the first time you jumped into the quarry. “Our friend group was having a mini reunion back home, and we got worried that he didn’t show up.”

“He’s in the hospital,” she says with no real emotion in her voice.

“What?” you ask in disbelief. Not your Stan.

“He’s in the hospital,” she snaps. “Do I need to say it slower for you? He slit his wrists and lost a lot of blood.”

“Oh my God,” you murmur, knees going weak at the thought. “Which hospital? I’d like to visit him before I go back home.”

She tells you the name of the hospital and hangs up before you can say anything else. Your knees buckle as soon as the line clicks dead, causing you to fall and scrape up your knees on the dirty pavement. Tears stream down your face and silent sobs shake your body. Ben and Bev immediately rush to your side, Bev kneeling beside you as she rubs soothing circles into your back.

“(Y/N)?” she asks nervously.

“He’s in the hospital,” you sob out weakly. “He tried to kill himself.” Bev helps you stand and sets you in Richie’s car so you can head to the hotel.

The rest of your time in Derry is a blur, it’s over so quick, but feels painfully slow. You instantly knew that your token was the menorah necklace that you’ve worn everyday since you had gotten it in sixth grade. Stan had bought it for you for Christmas as a joke, his father had made a not-so-pleasant comment about you not being Jewish the week prior. You knew you loved him the moment you tore the ribbon off of the box; he knew you better than anyone else, he let his guard down when he was with you, and he was the kindest, sweetest boy you had ever met especially when he stood up to his father about your religion.

Before you know it you’re assaulted by the smell of bleach and shiny white floors as you walk into the hospital Stan is in. After finding out the room number from the receptionist you slowly head to his room, wondering if you should really be there.

Through the small window of Stan’s hospital room you see a blonde woman sitting on a couch on the far side of the room, typing away on her laptop. When you enter the room she slams her laptop shut and walks over to you, making sure to stand between you and Stan’s bed.

“I’m Patricia Uris,” she makes no move to stick her hand out for you to shake, but makes the diamond on her left hand noticeable.

“I’m (Y/N),” you give her a small smile that drops as you look behind her, seeing Stan’s body lay there unmoving. “We briefly spoke on the phone the other night.”

“Right,” her eyes squint as she looks you up and down. “What happened to your face?” She’s referring to the healing cut that reaches from your hairline diagonally to your eyebrow, you should really look into getting side bangs or something. Pennywise was always great at mentally and physically scarring everyone.

“I was taking a shortcut through the forest in Derry when I slipped and cut it on a sharp piece of bark,” you lie effortlessly. She rolls her eyes but seems to believe your terrible excuse. “Is Stan getting any better?”

“The doctors say he should wake up any day now,” she doesn’t sound as excited about that as a wife should. “They say he should be awake, he just doesn’t want to. It’s all psychological apparently. It’s just like Stan to not want to do anything, always wanting to bird watch instead of going shopping with me.”

“Stan always loved to bird watch,” you smile at Patricia, pushing away the anger you feel at her ignorance and disdain she seems to hold for her husband. “He used to always drag me to the park in Derry to show me the different types, I was the only one in the group to enjoy it with him.”

“Yeah, well, it gets old fast,” she rolls her eyes, turning around to pack her laptop in her bag and grab her purse. “I’m gonna go home and shower, sit with him as long as you want to.”

Her heels click loudly on the linoleum flooring as she walks past you without a second glance towards Stan. You frown at her back as she walks down the hall to the elevator. You pull up a chair next to Stan’s bed and lightly grab his limp hand, running your thumb over the back of his hand.”

“You can’t leave me alone in this shit world, not after I finally remember,” tears spill down your cheeks. “I need you Stan the man. I’ll even go bird watching with you. Richie said, and I quote, so you can’t get mad at me for saying this when you wake up and remember me saying this, that you need to wake your ass up Urine, there are still a shit ton of birds to go look at. It’s all over Stan, we killed IT. And we all made it out, so you definitely need to wake back up. I’ve lived twenty years without you Stanley, I can’t go twenty more without you. I can’t even go one more without you.

Richie and Eddie finally got together, it was really cute. Eddie thought he was dying, he got stabbed by IT, so he confessed his love to Richie. But Richie was determined to get him out of there alive, and he did. So now they’re finally together, even though he married a woman that’s essentially his mother. Ben and Bev finally got together, we used to always say that they were made for each other. Ben is super fit now, but he’s still the biggest sweetheart I have ever met. And Bev is still so strong willed and fierce.

Bill is a horror writer now, which to me is pretty ironic. They’re making his stories into movies, where they always change the ending because they want something happy. He married some actress, who he’s divorcing as we speak. She isn’t great, insulting his work and not really caring that she’s hurting his feelings. Mike has been living in Derry this entire time, he took over his family's business. He was waiting these past twenty-seven years for IT to come back. Trying his hardest to protect the next generation from the horror that we faced.

I guess that just leaves me, I moved to Colorado, far far away from Derry. I worked my ass off to become a lawyer, the dream you always pushed me to go after. Even when I couldn’t remember you, your encouragement was in the back of my head, keeping me going when it got difficult. There were days that I would get foggy images of us getting ice cream, or splashing each other in the quarry, all of those times when you would let your guard down and have fun with me. Even after the losers club drifted apart as we went into high school, you stayed at my side. You defended me to your father when he hated that we were so close, even though I wasn’t Jewish. We were always there to pick each other up when Bowers or Greta and their friends would tease or beat us up. Stanley Uris, please wake up. I need you, we all miss you, and I definitely miss you the most.”

After spending hours with him, you head to the nearest hotel for the night. The next morning you stop by the hospital with the intent to say goodbye to Stan before heading home. When you walk up to the room Patricia and the doctor are talking.

“There was more brain activity yesterday,” the doctor’s voice drifts out through the open door and into the hall where you’re standing. “Whatever you did, do it again, because it was the first time we saw evidence that he could wake up.”

“Great,” she has a fake grin on her face, and she’s using a fake tone. Why doesn’t she want Stan, the most amazing man you have ever met and her husband, to wake up? “What are you doing here again?” she snaps as she notices you in the doorway.

“I have to head back home, so I wanted to say goodbye to him,” you nervously fiddle with the hem of your sweater.

“Didn’t you have enough time with him yesterday?” she glares at you. Why is she so defensive about you seeing Stan again?

“You were here yesterday?” the doctor's eyes widen as he looks at you for the first time.

“Yeah,” you answer shyly, flattening the side bangs you cut last night. Making sure they cover your stitched up forehead. His eyes light up in excitement and goes to talk to you once more, Patricia cuts him off.

“Well, as Stanley’s wife, I’m not sure I feel comfortable having you spend more time with him,” as she goes to continue with a string of complaints, a hushed and broken sound comes from the hospital bed.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, your hand covering your mouth. Your knees go weak, almost collapsing with relief as Stan repeats the sounds he had just made.

“I’m right here Stan,” Patricia forces her excitement once more, limply grabbing his hand.

“(Y/N),” his voice is clear this time, and your heart flutters as your old best friend says your name again. You rush over to his other side, gently grabbing his hand since that's where his IV is.

“Stan?” your voice breaks as you try to keep a relieved sob from escaping. Stan slowly and carefully flips his hand over, threading his fingers with yours. “It’s over. IT is gone, we got rid of IT this time.” His eyes open at your words, head turning to look you in the eyes. Tears finally escape the moment you can finally look into his deep brown eyes again.

“Did you call me urine?” his voice is rough and scratchy from not being able to use it for a week. More tears spill down your face as you laugh, because that was the first question he decides to ask you.

“I said I was quoting Richie,” your whole body shakes as you laugh, far too relieved to care if Patricia thinks you’re being over the top.

“I can remember,” his voice is softer, just like his eyes. “I remember everything. What ever happened to your necklace?” his other hand reaches across his body, but stops and hovers a few inches away from where the necklace once hung. You instinctively reach up to touch your chest where the pendent once fell.

“We needed tokens of our past, the most important thing from our childhood, that was mine,” he grips your hand tighter, the other one falling to his lap and away from Patricia. “I wore it everyday these past twenty seven years.”

“What necklace?” Patricia’s strained voice brings you back to Earth. You carefully let go of Stan’s hand and pull it back to your side. You had forgotten about Patricia, forgot that you aren’t allowed to love him anymore.

“I got her a menorah necklace,” Stan laughs at the memory, not noticing that you got awkward and pulled away. “She’s not Jewish, and my dad always hated that we were so close and she wasn’t. I used to joke that I would convert her one day, so I thought it would be funny to get her it for Christmas.” The doctor grins at you and Stan with a knowing look before backing out of the room quietly.

“Cute,” Patricia rolls her eyes and glares at you. You frown in response, wondering what on Earth you ever did to her. Ignoring Patricia, you hand Stan the unopened water bottle from your bag, sure that he’d need some water. He smiles gratefully at you before taking a large sip.

“What are you even doing here?” his stern gaze landing on Patricia. You furrow your brows, the Stan you knew would never treat his wife this way.

“I’m your wife!” her voice is shrill, hurting your ears and making you cringe. Stan on the other hand doesn’t seem amused with the outburst.

“We aren’t married anymore Patricia,” Stan’s voice is harder than you have ever heard before. “I divorced you three years ago, the only reason you're here is because I haven’t changed my emergency contact.”

You run your hands through your hair as you process the new information, Stan was available. You could love him without being guilty. You could finally tell him that you love him, that you always have.

“Well have fun with your deformed klutz over there,” she gestures towards you with a mocking grin. You had pushed your bangs back a moment prior without realizing it, Stan’s gaze on you quickly goes from confused to anger as he pieces together what happened to you.

“Leave Patricia,” the anger in his voice is kinda hot. “I never want to see you again.”

“Don’t come crawling back to me when you get bored with her,” and with that she leaves, slamming the door loudly behind her.

“What happened?” Stan brings his hand up and gently glides his fingers over the stitches Eddie put in.

“You aren’t married?” your heart is beating so fast you swear it would break out of your chest and fly away.

“No, I divorced her a while ago, I realized she was treating me terribly,” you start crying at his words. “Why are you crying?”

“I thought you were dead, and then I thought you were married and slowly dying,” you sob. “But now you’re suddenly single and very much alive. It’s a lot to process.

He lifts his hand back up to your face, wiping away your tears even if they’re being replaced as soon as he moves his thumb away from your skin. His hands are a little rough, but soft enough to know that he works behind a desk. His hand starts to caress your cheek, you have to fight the heat from rising to your cheeks and push away the excitement you feel from the tender touch. You’re just an old friend he hasn’t seen in twenty years, nothing more.

“What happened to your forehead?” his voice is soft again, and his fingers brush along the angry red cut once more.

“I was facing my fear,” images of a young Stan abandoning you in order to save himself, saying that you mean nothing to him, after you had fallen and your abusive father was closing in on you, race through your mind. “And Pennywise, as my father, cornered me after a young you pushed me down and ran away. As my father was hovering over me with a knife, he morphed into IT and he used his long sharp nail to cut my face, and try to gouge my eye out. I got lucky because there happened to be a large rock next to me, which I hit IT with so I could run away.”

“I would never leave you,” Stan says sadly, a hurt look in his eyes as he stares at you but can’t look into your eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see him again, even if he was just IT’s illusion.”

“It’s fine,” you reach up to play with your necklace, forgetting it’s not there anymore. Playing with the necklace had become a coping mechanism for your anxiety. The nervous tick had developed almost immediately after you received the present. “Really, everything is in the past now. I’m fine.”

Stan gives you a disbelieving look, you look around the room to avoid his gaze. Your eyes lock onto the clock, causing them to widen as you take in the time. How had that much time passed already? It felt like you had entered the room five minutes ago, it certainly didn’t feel like two hours had come and gone.

“What is it?” Stan grabs your hand, keeping you from standing from the uncomfortable hospital chair.

“I have a plane to catch, in an hour,” you pull your hand from his grasp, standing and backing away from the bed as well. “I need to go now if I have any chance of making it through TSA and to my plane in time.”

“Don’t go,” his voice is soft, broken even. “I lost you once, I can’t lose you again.”

“You’ll be fine Stan,” you flash him a watery smile. “You have healing to do, and then you can go bird watch all you want. We’ll remember each other this time, we can keep in touch.” You walk over to the side of his bed, pushing the curls off his forehead so you can give him a soft kiss. A tear slips down your cheek and lands on his curls as the fall back into place. “Goodbye Stan.”

It had been weeks since you had left Atlanta, and you’ve thought of Stan every hour of every day since. It’s like your mind is punishing you with thoughts of him since you had forgotten him for so long. You and Stan texted a couple times, you still had his number from when Mike gave it to you. And just like Mike gave you Stan’s number, he gave Stan your address. Because two and a half weeks after you arrived home, a small package from Stan arrived in the mail.

You stare at the package in shock for a few minutes, before finally opening it. You gasp as you see a menorah necklace inside, almost identical to the one you had gotten so many years ago. Your heart thumps against your rib cage at the thoughtful, heartfelt gesture.

You immediately send Stan a text, thanking him for the necklace, while lightly chastising him for spending money on you, and asking him to give you a call as soon as he could. It has been almost twenty four hours since your text, and you've gotten no reply. You start to fear the worst, that this could have been his last act before trying, and succeeding, to kill himself. As you contemplate finding a way to get a wellness check on him, there's a knock on your apartment door. Probably just the guy from down the hall that doesn’t understand that rejection isn’t playing hard to get.

When you open the door Stan is standing in front of you; his dark brown curls are styled instead of the chaotic mess they were at the hospital, his face clean shaven, his striped button up and pressed khakis are reminiscent of the outfits he would wear as a child. This is how you always imagined Stanley Uris would look like as an adult, well without the small almost unnoticeable scars on the side of his head.

“Come in,” you finally snap out of your trance and step to the side, leaving more than enough room for him to walk into your modest two bedroom apartment. He takes in the living room and kitchen, but his eyes light up when they land at the necklace hanging delicately from your throat. “Wh-what are you doing here?” you glance down at the small carry on he’s holding.

“I thought I should tell you why I did it,” his voice is strained. “And I didn’t want to do it over the phone, since I know you were getting ready to make some smart ass remark about telephones.” Stan really was your best friend, because he’s spot on with his prediction about what you were just about to say. “I don’t know if it’s because I saw the deadlights for so long or something, but as we kept getting closer to twenty seven years I started to remember. It started with you and the rest of the losers a few years ago, but as soon as Mike told me IT was back I remembered all the pain we went through. I knew that we all needed to go back to Derry, but I knew I couldn’t do it. I knew that if I went my fear would be putting you in danger. I thought suicide would be the only way to keep you safe and where I didn’t have to face IT again.”

“Bev saw visions of everyone's death, how we would all die if we ignored IT. She saw you in your bathtub, and ironically she saw me bashing my own head in with a law textbook,” you laugh awkwardly, changing the subject from his reasoning and proof that he isn’t alone in this. “IT found a way to get to us, no matter how strong we are or how far away from Derry we were. Do I think you and Bev had it worse because you two saw the deadlights? Yeah, I do. I’m sure you got memories back as IT was waking up, you saw the deadlights the longest. You never should have made it out of those sewers alive that summer, but I’m glad you did. That probably made you more susceptible to that rush of fear you got again. And I just want you to know that you aren’t alone Stan.”

“I’ve missed you,” his voice frail as he pulls nervously at the bottom of his button up.

“It’s been two weeks Stan,” you try to ignore the warm fuzzy feeling growing in your stomach. “You couldn’t have missed me that much. Plus, you could have called to talk.” Stan takes a deep shaky breath, and you frown in concern at his actions.

“I’ve loved you my entire life (Y/N), it’s been two and a half weeks and I can’t stand to be away from you,” Stan says earnestly, his words warm your broken soul. “Not for two weeks and three days, I don’t think I can even go a day without you near. I love you (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I love you too, Stanley Uris,” a grin spreads across your face, the joy mirrored in your eyes. “I knew I loved you the moment I got my first menorah necklace from you. It showed me just how special I was to you, you stood up to your father for me and you got me something that would forever remind the two of us of that moment.”

Stan doesn’t say anything, he just leans forward and captures your lips with his. The kiss is electric, you swear there are fireworks, just like those cheesy movies. With your left hand you caress the scars on his head from all those years ago, and your right tangles into his styled curls. Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll float away if he lets go. When you pull apart your lips are tingling, both you and Stan panting heavily.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Stan breaks the mood smiling shyly, causing you to laugh. “I kinda just threw stuff in a bag and got on the first flight out of Georgia, didn’t really plan ahead.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my Stanley?” you laugh lightly, his ears turning red at your teasing. “He would never leave the house without having a well thought out plan first.”

“What can I say?” his smile grows, and so does yours as you watch the dimple on his right cheek deepen. “Your spontaneity and want for adventure always rubbed off on me.”

“You can stay for as long as you want,” you lean in, gripping his shirt and pulling him into you. This kiss isn’t soft this time, it’s rough and needy. Twenty seven plus years of wanting this and it’s finally yours. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, you sure as hell weren’t going to complain about the amount of passion in it. The kiss was finally a way in which the two of you could express every deep and long buried feeling.

It was four months to the day since Stan showed up at your doorstep, and the two of you had only been apart for a week the entire time. You couldn’t get away from work again so soon and Stan had to go back to Georgia to pack up his belongings. The apartment that you had resided in soon turned into a home, all thanks to Stan. You two invited the rest of the losers over to visit, figuring that you had settled into your new relationship so easily you didn’t want to hide it from your friends. This time there would be no IT, no life threatening tasks to complete, and it’s the first time in twenty seven years that you would all be together. What you don’t know is that Stan is planning a big surprise, with the help of the most important people in your lives.

You run out to grab salsa from the store you swear you picked some in preparation for today earlier in the week, but Stan said there was none in the fridge. You drive as fast as you can, the losers club should be over within an hour, and you didn’t want them to beat you home.

The apartment is strangely quiet as you swing the door open; Stan isn’t muttering to himself as he goes over a client’s finances, and he isn’t sitting at the table working on a puzzle. Where is your Stanley?

Before you can get too worried, your brain immediately racing to the possibility that he is in your bathtub, that seeing everyone after all this time was too much for him, Eddie appears from the kitchen. You go to guilty greet him, feeling bad for being a bad hostess and not being there when he and Richie arrived, bet the hypochondriac cuts you off.

“Your smile that can light up a room,” he grins cheekily at you, like he knows something you don’t.

“Your smokin’ bod,” Richie joins the two of you, his laugh ending when Eddie smacks his gut. “Fine, fine, your eyes that sparkle when you’re truly happy.”

“How incredibly smart you are, especially when you find holes in the other lawyers arguments,” Bev winks at you, you look around desperately for Stan. Where is he? And what's going on?

“Your perseverance, you always make the hard days look easy,” Ben walks out and wraps his arm around Bev’s shoulders.

“How caring and understanding you are,” Bill stands beside Richie, the grocery bag with the salsa in it, on the floor and long forgotten.

“And that your voice can calm me with just one word,” you furrow your brows at Mike.

“Those are all things I love about you,” Stan’s gentle voice comes from behind you. You whip around to see his grinning face, no trace of fear or sadness from his past anywhere to be seen, only excitement for the promising future. “I could write a whole book of things that I love about you, but that still wouldn’t cover it all.”

“Stan?” your heart leaps at the glint in his eyes and the softness of his voice, things you want to experience for the rest of your life.

“I love you (Y/N) (Y/L/N), with my entire being. I always have. When we were kids I knew I would marry you one day, I knew, even then, that there was no way I could live without you. So (Y/N)-” Stan pulls out a little black box from his pocket as he gets on one knee.

“Yes!” you exclaim a little too loudly as soon as he flips the lid open. The diamond is sparkling up at you, your eyes fill with tears.

“I didn’t even get to finish,” Stan pouts, humor and happiness twinkling in his eyes.

“I don’t care,” he laughs, sliding the one carat ring on your finger. It’s a perfect fit, meaning good luck through some old superstition. “Just kiss me.”

Stan shoots up from the ground, grabbing your cheek in one hand and caressing it softly, the other slipping into your hair. You pull greedily at the front of his freshly ironed button up as he deepens the kiss. A moan escapes one of you, and from the sounds of how deep it is, you’re sure it was Stan.

“Get a room,” Richie wolf whistles, you and Stan pull away embarrassed.

“I can't wait until I can finally call you Mrs. Uris,” he breathes, ignoring Richie, as he rests his forehead on yours.

“Neither can I,” you close the distance and kiss him again, not caring about the audience, or the quiet sound of disgust from Eddie. Just because he makes out with Richie often, it doesn’t stop the thought of thousands of germs being passed back and forth when he sees someone else kiss.

You finally get your happy ending with Stan, after all of those shitty years without him, you two will never be apart again. And there is no better way to start the rest of forever together than with the help of the losers, your chosen family.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny

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365days365movies · 3 years

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March 7, 2021: Onward (2020) (Part One)

Finding Nemo.

That’s my favorite Pixar film. Real talk, no arguments, and today’s movie? NOT dethroning it. This movie is so hard-wired into my brain, that the second I typed the words of the title, the theme song ran through my head, where it lives rent-free. It will be a cold day when I don’t find an excuse to shout “NEMOOOO!!!! I HAVE TO FIND MY SON!!” at any opportune moment. I will never stop swimming. Whenever I catch a Chinchou or Lanturn in a Pokémon game, I name it “Goodfeeling’sgone”.

SHARK BAIT OOH HA HA

YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE DEPTHS OF MY LOVE FOR THIS MOVIE.

...Ahem. So, yeah, I love FInding Nemo. For the record, the sequel ain’t bad. And also for the record, there’s only one Pixar movie that I consider to be bad, and it’s the one you’d think. You know, the one about ageism. The one where somebody dies by torture? The bad spy movie?

...the second one about cars?

Which means, YES. I DON’T THINK The Good Dinosaur IS THAT BAD! Not exactly good, but its gorgeous, and just kinda boring, not outright terrible. That Styracosaurus, though...that dude is great.

Anyway, off of Pixar for a sec, huh? What about fantasy? I’m a big tabletop RPG nerd, and I’m currently the GM for a Pathfinder campaign, a Pokémon RPG, and a Mutants and Masterminds game, while also playing in a Pathfinder game as well. Yeah, I’m a busy dewd. But what I’m saying is, this movie should be preaching to the choir for me. I’m a Pixar lover who plays RPGs. I’m ready for this. I’m ready for CGI Bright. Which is another way of saying, I’m ready for a version of Bright that doesn’t suck.

So, why haven’t I seen it until now? I mean...COVID-19. This film got FUCKED. But, no matter! It’s on Disney Plus, I’ve got Disney Plus, so let’s get this baby STARTED! Let’s get updated on some Pixar! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

OK, immediately digging the soundtrack over the Disney logo as we jump in here! Very ethereal, very fantasy, very LotR, I LIKE it, I LIKE it! And then...long ago, the world was full of wonder!

We get a view of the world of olde, with magic and many mystical, mythical creatures living together and adventuring. However, as magic wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to use, it eventually gave way to technology, fading away in a world now very similar to ours.

Basically, it’s about the same as our world, except for a few different races, and the fact that dragons are basically dogs, and unicorns are basically raccoons, which is fuckin’ fantastic.

We enter the home of teenage elf Ian Lightfoot (Tom Holland) and introverted now-16-year-old who lives with his mother, Laurel (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) and his older brother Barley (Chris Pratt). Barley’s a tabletop RPG nerd who’s also a fan of the magical past. Said obsessions cause a strain on his relationship with Ian, and with that of his mother’s boyfriend, centaur policeman Colt Bronco (Mel Rodriguez).

After a discussion about Barley’s recent attempt to protect an old magical monument from destruction, he accidentally damages the sweatshirt that Ian is wearing, which was owned by their late father, Wilder. Ian rushes out, flustered, despite Barley’s attempts to bond with him. Well, looks like we have a sense of the plot for this one.

On his way to school, Barley stops to get some food when he meets Gaxton (Wilmer Valderrama), an old college friend of his father’s. From Gaxton, he learns things about his father that he never knew, like that he was bold and standout. From there, Barely pledges to try and be more self-confident, like his father.

Whiiiiiiich, doesn’t exactly work once he gets to school. He fails to stand-up to a jerky guy at school, he fails in his driving class, and he fails to ask other high school kids to his birthday party. But to be fair, Barley helps a bit with that last one when he shows up with Guinevere, his busted-ass van with a unicorn painted on the side. Which is supposed to be uncool...but I kinda dig it, not gonna lie.

After that, Ian completely flubs the invitation bit, confusing the people he was talking to, and disappointing himself in the process. He gets a ride home with Barley, and goes home to talk to a tape recording of his dad. Which is...beautifully sad, and somehow very easy to identify with. So, yeah, it’s gonna be that kind of Pixar movie.

Ian talks to his mom about his father at his age, asking if he was ever unsure. She says yes, but couples this with a surprise: a gift from his late father, who died of a terminal illness shortly after Ian’s birth. The gift is for both Ian and Barley, and was meant to be opened when they were both over 16.

She gets it from the attic, and they unwrap it, where it’s revealed to be a wizard’s staff. Which is weird, because Wilder was an accountant. In a pocket of the wrapping cloth, there’s a letter written by Wilder with the narration from the beginning of the film (that “Long ago” bit).

Also included is a spell, written by Wilder so that he could see who his sons grew up to be. This “Visitation Spell” would appear to be a way to bring Wilder back for 24 hours. Barley, being the magic-lover that he is, tries multiple times to cast the spell with the staff, but fails to do so, much to his and Ian’s great disappointment.

However, when Ian tries to read the spell out of curiosity later, the staff begins to react, and the spell begins to work. Barley comes in as this is happening, and the spell works...halfway. It starts to fail, and Barley offers to help, but Ian pulls the staff away, and the spell stops as the Phoenix crystal inside it shatters.

Looks like another bust, but it’s not a complete failure. And if you’ve seen literally any trailer for this movie, you know what happens.

Although it’s just his legs and feet, it’s still Wilden Lightfoot (Kyle Bornheimer...technically). The boys decide to try and complete the spell, but need another Phoenix Gem to do so. According to Barley’s “historically accurate” TTRPG, Quests of Lore, they will be able to find one by accepting a quest from the place where all quests start: the Manticore’s Tavern. And so, the quest begins!

The brothers and their half-dad board Guinevere and drive to the Manticore’s Tavern. On the way, Barley convinces Ian to practice some spells from the games rulebook, but they don’t work because Ian’s not invoking his passion (or his “heart’s fire”, as Barley calls it). Meanwhile, Laurel figures out where they’re headed, but doesn’t know exactly why...yet.

After the journey, they make it to the Manticore’s Tavern, which is now essentially a themed Chuck E. Cheese’s restaurant, owned and managed by Corey (Octavia Spencer), a very overworked manticore. Which is pretty great, not gonna lie.

They try to get the actual map to the Phoenix’s Gem from her in order to conjure their Dad, but she no longer sends adventurers on dangerous quests, mostly because she doesn’t want to get sued by any injured adventurers. When Ian argues with her about this, she IMMEDIATELY DIVES INTO AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS/MID LIFE CRISIS!

It’s, uh...it’s kind of amazing. Having completely lost it at this point, she basically tears down the entire building with her bare hands and fire-breath. Unfortunately, the map to the Phoenix Gem is burnt in the process of Corey’s literal meltdown. However, as Wilden’s about to be crushed by a couple of falling beams, Ian taps into his heart’s fire.

Nice. They get out of there, and head out for the Gem, using a child’s placemat replica of the real map to make their way to a place called Raven’s Point. However, rather than just follow the goddamn map, Barley decides to go on much more dangerous road known as the “Path of Peril”, once again following the “call of adventure” and his gut.

Which...yeah, Barley’s not really considering the reality of this whole situation, which fits his personality. He’s a dreamer, despite the rational and reasonable solution in front of him. And, in case you weren’t sure, I’m pretty sure that isn’t a good thing.

Ian points out the correct point that what actually matters is that they send enough time with their father, and they do indeed take the straightforward path. Good! Barley listened to Ian’s suggestion after all. However, they hit another snag when the car breaks down, completely out of gas. Problem.

Meanwhile, Laurel makes her way to the Manticore’s place, only to find it on fire! She meets Corey, who tells her that she’s met her boys, and told them about everything...except the curse. Also, there’s a curse. Laurel, who is the best movie Mom ever, tricks a policeman interviewing Corey to diverting his attention away from her, and smuggles her into her car to help find (and maybe rescue) her sons.

Stuck off the freeway without gas, a desperate Ian asks Barley if there are any spells that can get them more gas. They concoct a plan involving a shrinking and growing spell, but that immediately goes wrong as Barley tries to instruct Ian, only frustrating him further, and causing him to fumble the spell and hit Barley with it, making him tiny.

They decide to head to a gas station, where a group of pixie bikers has just arrived. This backfires when Barley, lacking basically any common sense, ends up insulting the biker leader, Dewdrop (Grey Griffin) and her ancestors. Nice one, Barley. As they escape from the pissed off pixies, the tiny Barley is unable to drive, forcing the driver’s anxiety-riddled Ian to drive, overcoming his fears from earlier by force, being chased by the pixies all the way. It’s a pretty good sequence, to be honest.

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Well, they escape the Pixies...but not the cops. And I think that’ll be a good place to pick up in the next part! See you there!

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sweatersexual · 3 years

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In Gravity Falls, You Abduct the Aliens

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“This,” proclaimed Stan, “is not a house.” He waded through the piles of books, papers, and weird gadgets. “Seriously, who keeps a chalkboard in their living room? This is more like some kind of nerd lair.”

“I prefer to think of it as my own research lab that I have all-hours access to, but the term lair does lend a certain ambience,” said Ford.

Stan picked up a deformed skull that looked like it belonged to some kind of rodent. “This feels like the intro to a horror movie. With a plucky pair of teen heroes to terrorize and giant switches to a zappy doomsday device, you’d be all set.” He started playing with the skull’s jaw hinge.

Ford reclaimed the skull from him. “Well, it’s no doomsday device, but once I get the portal in the basement working, it’ll be plenty ‘zappy,’ as you say.”

Right, the portal. Ford had talked about it a lot on their drive up from Vegas, where the two of them had happened to run into each other and ended up reconciling. Ford seemed preoccupied by how he’d build the thing without his old flame, Fiddleford McGucket. Ford had invited him to join them in Gravity Falls as well, but when the two nerds realized they still had the hots for each other, Fiddleford had decided to do right by his wife and kid and stay in Palo Alto.

Stan, on the other hand, might be no mechanical engineer, but he was smart enough to realize there was more to this portal business than Ford was telling him.

“Man, you really have a one track mind when it comes to that portal, huh? You were even talking about it in your sleep while we were driving up here. ‘So sorry, shouldn’t’ve let my personal feelings get in the way. . . . ‘S only a temporary setback . . . won’t let all our hard work go to waste . . .’ Has somebody else been helping with the portal?”

Ford nervously spun the skull around in his hand. “Really, Stanley, it’s silly to read too much into sleep talk. I could’ve been talking about anything.”

“Come on, Sixer. If you’re gonna lie to me, you gotta try harder than that.”

“Don’t you trust me, Stanley?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, but . . . I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”

Stan put a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “Listen, bro. I’ve been all over the world. Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

Ford sighed. “All right, I’ll try to explain. But first, let me go get something. A visual aid, if you will.”

A few minutes later, he returned, having replaced the deformed skull with a ceramic jar in his now gloved hands. “I was lucky to get my hands on this,” Ford told him. “The Northwests hoard just about all the artifacts they can find. Please avoid touching it, I don’t have any disposable five-fingered gloves to protect it from the oils on your hands.”

He presented the design on the jar to Stan, who was doing his best to show Ford he didn’t think he was crazy. The picture was of a man with an animal pelt on his head talking to a triangle with one eye. “Don’t tell me you got recruited by the Illuminati or something,” said Stan.

“No, I haven’t joined any secret societies,” Ford assured him. “This depicts a man named Modoc from three thousand years ago, seeking wisdom from an ancient being. From time to time, this being presents himself to truly singular minds, giving them divine insight and knowledge. And now this Muse has chosen me.”

“Okay,” said Stan. “So you’ve gotten into some kind of niche religion. It’s not that weird. Just don’t drink the Kool-Aid, all right?”

Ford set the jar down on what little empty space his dining room table had left. “I haven’t joined a cult, Stan. I mean, it is a kind of spiritual experience, talking to my Muse, but there’s no organized religion involved. Ever since I summoned him, he manifests himself in my dreams. I never could’ve gotten this far in my investigations of Gravity Falls without him. And he’s helped me come up with the plans for this portal. I know it sounds strange, but there really is something otherworldly about him. And even if he is somehow all in my imagination, the inspiration has never steered me wrong.”

Stan’s bullshit-o-meter was going off, but not because he thought Ford was lying to him. Stan knew his twin’s tells, and Ford was definitely sincere about this muse thing. He couldn’t take Ford’s words at face value, but he could tell that Ford was really going out on a limb here, being honest about something that could get him called a quack at best or institutionalized at worst. So what if the guy was in his thirties and had an imaginary friend? Let him have his weird triangle dreams if it made him happy.

So Stan simply said, “Hey, whatever floats your boat, poindexter. But now that I’m here, you’re not just some weird hermit living in the woods. We’re a family. And families live in homes, not nerd lairs.”

Ford blinked, seeming surprised that Stan had changed the subject. But he went along with it anyway. “Right. Well, I have been meaning to organize everything for awhile now. My research keeps getting ahead of me. But I’ll probably be able to think better without so much clutter around.”

It didn’t take long for the twins to settle into a routine. Mornings were for cleaning and organization. After lunch, Stan would run errands while Ford struggled building his machine in the basement. Stan never imagined he’d get so excited about yard sale curtains and other furnishings, but after so many years never having a permanent place of his own, he relished the chance to decorate his own living space. Afternoons and evenings were dedicated to finding and studying anomalies, then Stan tried to persuade Ford to go to bed rather than get back to work on the portal again. He was rarely successful.

“I owe it to myself to at least stumble along with the limited mechanical knowledge I have,” said Ford. “And maybe I’ll find someone or something else that can help.”

Stan did try to help, but it took so long for Ford to even explain what he was trying to do, and it was so boring listening to him speak nothing but jargon, and Ford just didn’t think the way Stanley did. Stan would probably have better luck just taking Ford’s plans and trying to decode them himself, either way it would take ages. Instead he simply figured out how to use a welding torch and applied it where Ford told him to.

But Stan’s favorite hours were spent running through the woods with his brother. He had never expected to see a gnome for himself, or play with magic size-altering crystals. About one week into his stay, Ford was over the moon to find a sleeping gremloblin. “I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to study one up close like this!”

Stan helped take samples and measurements (it really was remarkable how heavy a sleeper this gremloblin was), then helped himself to his favorite toffee peanuts while Ford finished scribbling in his journal. Rustling in the bushes behind him turned his head, and before he knew it a red and black creature was running away from him, and the toffee peanuts that had fallen on the ground were gone.

Ford snapped to attention, too. “Did you see what that was?” he asked Stan.

“Something with a duck bill.” Stan held up his snack. “It was trying to get these.”

Ford grimaced. “I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”

Stan rolled his eyes. Ford was so dramatic about his distaste for Stan’s favorite snack.

“Can I try to lure it back out?” asked Ford, reaching for the toffee peanuts.

“Fine.”

Once they had gotten the creature to reemerge, Ford was back to scribbling in his journal. “So the plaidypus legends are real! Fascinating, fascinating. Is it just me, or do you think it smells like maple syrup and bacon?”

They were able to track the plaidypus back to its burrow on the marshy banks by the creek, where they found a clutch of flannel-patterned eggs. To improve upon their fantastic luck, they had arrived in time to watch the eggs hatch.

“Look at that! They only have the horizontal stripes now, the vertical stripes must come in as they grow - did you get the measurements on that last one, Stanley?”

“Yeah, but what do you think the deal is with that one?” Stan pointed to a blue egg that hadn’t yet hatched.

“I have no idea. I’m not even sure that’s a plaidypus egg.”

Ford turned out to be extremely correct when the blue egg did hatch and a slimy white monster popped out.

“What the hell is that thing?” asked Stan.

Ford replied, “I’ve never seen anything like it,” then gasped when the monster mutated into another baby plaidypus. “It’s a mimic!”

“Wait - which one is it?” asked Stan.

Ford cursed. “I should’ve been paying closer attention.”

The shapeshifter soon revealed itself when instead of latching on to the mother plaidypus’s lactating glands, it sank its teeth into another baby plaidypus. “No!” cried Stan as he picked up the imposter and pried its jaw open. “Bad shapeshifter thing!”

Ford tended the baby plaidypus’s wounds while Stan wrestled the shapeshifter into a containment jar, where it resumed its original pale, slimy form.

The study of this creature quickly set Ford into what Stan liked to call Full Nerd Mode. They hardly seemed to get through a conversation without Ford bringing up how “Shifty”, as he’d nicknamed the thing, changed his DNA when he changed forms, and how the implications from that would revolutionize the field of genetics, or asking for suggestions for safe forms to add to Shifty’s repertoire. Stan had to admit it was nice to see his brother obsess over something other than that portal for once, though if he had his way he could think of several ways for Shifty to aid with some under-the-table schemes.

“Stanley!” Ford had chided him when Stan had joked about the idea. “You have a job with me now. You don’t need to get into more trouble with the law.”

Yeah, that had been weird, getting an actual, legitimate paycheck for once, and with his brother’s signature no less. And it really was quite a lot considering that Stan didn’t need to pay rent or anything. But Stan couldn’t help that niggling doubt in the back of his mind questioning whether he had enough, whether Stan’s luck might still run dry and he’d better get as much as he could while the getting was good -

Stan had simply shrugged at his brother. “A side hustle never hurt anything,” he said. “And with Shifty’s help, we wouldn’t get caught.”

“I’m afraid it’s out of the question,” Ford had insisted. “We wear masks around Shifty for a reason, you know. It’s too dangerous to have him impersonate humans.”

And Stan could see the wisdom in that, but even so, he thought he did a good enough impression of his brother to recognize the second-rate performance Shifty would put on. The little monster couldn’t even talk!

That last assumption was proven wrong one afternoon while they were working on the portal and a high-pitched voice called out, “Beans!”

Ford’s head perked up from his schematics. “Did you say something?” he asked Stan, who shook his head.

Stan pointed to the dog kennel where they kept Shifty. “I think it was -”

“Beans!” the voice repeated, and it was definitely coming from the kennel.

“Remarkable,” said Ford, replacing his mask as he walked over to kneel in front of the kennel, where Shifty could see him. “Are you hungry, Shifty?”

“Beans,” he repeated, “for me.”

“I’ll go get him some,” said Stan. As he climbed the stairs up to the house, he heard Ford ask, “What else can you say, Shifty?”

When Stan returned with the beans Shifty liked so much, the little monster was repeating the brothers’ names. “Stan,” said the little voice. “Ford. Sixer poindexter knucklehead.”

Ford laughed. “Very good, Shifty. Those are some other names we call each other.”

“Who am I?” asked the shapeshifter. Stan felt his mouth drop open. That wasn’t the sort of question a parrot asked . . .

“Why, you’re Shifty,” said Ford without a trace of the trepidation Stan was feeling just then. “Stan has brought you those beans you wanted, Shifty.”

“Beans!”

When he was done eating, Shifty went back to asking questions. “Who am I? Who is Shifty?”

“Speaking in full sentences already,” said Ford. “This is really quite incredible.”

“He’s asking if he’s a person, Ford.”

“Stan, don’t anthropomorphize him. Even parrots can repeat phrases -”

“Parrots don’t ask existential questions like that! And besides, when have we ever said anything like that around him?”

Ford frowned. “I’ll need to collect more data -”

“This isn’t about data, Ford!” Stan gestured to the kennel. “That’s a kid! A weird monster kid, but still a kid. And we’re keeping him in a cage. Take it from someone who’s been to prison.” At that, Ford glanced up at him in surprise, and Stan looked away. “It does things to you.”

Ford stammered, “Stan, I - I didn’t know - you never said -”

“I don’t like to talk about it,” said Stan. “And anyway, this isn’t about me. This is about him.”

Ford nodded. It was a moment before he answered, “Well, I will need to do more tests, and we do need to keep his abilities under control, but -” Stan opened his mouth to argue, but Ford placed his hand on Stan’s shoulder in a calming motion - “but . . . your concerns have merit. Even a parrot would need a more stimulating environment than this. Will you help me whip something up for Shifty?”

Stan grinned. “Of course.”

With Stan’s help, Ford was able to construct a walled-off enclosure in the basement, which Shifty took to happily. When Ford was able to determine that the burrow Shifty made in the corner was a bed and not an escape route, he found he could breathe much easier.

Ford spent an increasing amount of time in the enclosure, testing Shifty’s language and cognitive skills. Soon he had an impressive amount of data confirming the shapeshifter’s intelligence. Shifty was always eager to participate in the “games,” as he referred to them, and responded very well to Ford’s praise. Ford had to admit he also enjoyed designing activities to keep Shifty occupied while Ford was working on other projects. These activities usually took the form of a puzzle or scavenger hunt, with chicken nuggets as prizes.

Shifty was also making great strides in learning to read. Ford had picked up a number of secondhand children’s books, but only ones that contained no illustrations of humans or dangerous animals for Shifty to take the forms of. This still left him with a wide variety of benign anthropomorphic animal characters like Frog and Toad, Frances, and Little Critter, many of whom became common forms for Shifty to take.

Eventually Ford felt comfortable enough for Shifty to have supervised playtime in the house and walks around the yard, but he and Stan always stayed masked and kept Shifty from seeing any people or dangerous animals.

On one such occasion, Stan was keeping an eye on Shifty upstairs while Ford was getting in some work on the portal. A loud thump from the floor above broke Ford’s focus, and a second had him scrambling up the steps, adjusting his mask as he went. The last thing he expected to find in the living room was two elephant seals.

“You didn’t tell me humans can shapeshift too!” said one of the elephant seals.

“What? Shifty? Are you saying Stan turned into this elephant seal right here?”

The other elephant seal groaned, a grumbling, braying sound.

“Elephant seal,” Shifty repeated. His high voice sounded comical coming from such a blubbery monster. “I like being an elephant seal. I’ve never been this big before.”

This was a disaster. Ford had never intended to have Shifty turn into such a volatile creature. “I’m afraid elephant seals are too big to be in the house, Shifty. Would you please turn into something smaller?”

“But how come Stan gets to be an elephant seal?” Shifty complained as he morphed into Arthur Read, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“I don’t want him to be an elephant seal either,” said Ford. “Stan? Can you try to turn back? What were you messing with, you know a lot of the artifacts I keep are cursed.”

Stan made a series of grunting seal noises, none of which were in the least helpful.

Ford sighed aggravatedly. “What happened before he turned into an elephant seal, Shifty?”

“Well, we were gonna build a blanket fort, so we got some blankets out of a trunk, then I put one of the blankets on my head and pretended I was a ghost, and Stan did too, only he used the -”

“The sealskin?” asked Ford. “The heavy one with the decorative beading?”

“I think so. He turned into an elephant seal after he put it on.”

“But that one’s cursed!” said Ford. “This is not good. We need to turn him back soon, or he’ll stay an elephant seal forever.”

Stan let out a series of angry honks and grumbles which, if translated to English, would probably be the kind of language Ford would not want Shifty repeating.

As it was, Shifty shrank into a field mouse, his ears meekly tucked behind his head. “What can we do?” he asked. “How do we change him back?”

“I’ll need to consult my journal,” said Ford. “I think I found a curse breaking spell somewhere . . .”

Ford tried to flip through journal 2 quickly, but had to pause every time Shifty climbed up to his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the pages.

“Cut it out, Shifty,” he said, setting Shifty back on the ground for the third time. “You’re slowing me down, and time is of the essence.”

“Why don’t you trust me?” asked Shifty.

“Come now, you know my journals are off limits,” said Ford. “Why don’t you make sure Stan doesn’t wreck the coffee table, hmm?”

A few minutes later, Ford found the page he was looking for. “Vis maleficiis expello. Fundere atque fugare in pacem. Purgare. Purgare. Purgare,” he chanted over Stan’s blubbery form.

Nothing happened.

Ford rechecked the journal entry. “Did I miss something? Let me try that again.”

The second attempt was no better than the first.

“This curse is clearly more malignant than I thought,” said Ford. “A simple spell is simply not up to the task. We’ll need to try something with a little more oomph to it.”

“Can I help?” asked Shifty.

“You can,” said Ford, “by waiting very patiently in your room while I take Stan to meet an acquaintance of mine.”

“But I can do more!” Shifty protested. “I’m sure I can.”

“I’m sorry, Shifty, but I’m afraid the risk is too great.”

“But what if he gets stuck as an elephant seal forever and it’s all my fault?”

“Shifty . . .” Ford was surprised Shifty had developed such an attachment to Stan, and a sense of responsibility. Though as far as Ford was concerned, it was entirely unwarranted. “I don’t blame you for any of this. If Stan had been more careful -” Stan snorted at that - “or if I had clearly labeled which items were cursed,” Ford conceded, “that is to say, this was just an accident. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

Shifty seemed to accept that, “But I still want to help. If you let me go with you, I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do what you tell me, I promise.”

Ford shook his head. “Shifty, it really will be more of a help if I’m not having to watch out for you while we’re undoing the curse. Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with phenomena far more malignant than this. Why don’t I refill your octahedron puzzle, hmm?” It was one of Shifty’s favorites. “By the time you’re done with it, we’ll be back, and Stan will be in his right shape again.”

Once Ford had started a reluctant Shifty on his puzzle, and gathered a few materials he thought might be helpful for curse breaking, Ford and Stan started hiking over to the lake. Well, Ford was hiking. Stan was doing more of a hobble. Ideally they would drive over, but the El Diablo wasn’t built to cart around elephant seals, and Stan wasn’t too keen to try.

“We’re going to summon a siren I’ve had some dealings with,” Ford explained to Stan. At his questioning look, Ford added, “She’s safe, don’t worry. We may have had . . . some miscommunications, at first, but we’re on good terms. Doripea’s been an excellent source of information. I just hope she’s not too busy.”

To their good fortune, she wasn’t. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite gentleman caller,” Doripea greeted Ford. Her angular face and pointed ears add to the mischievousness of her grin, aided in its brightness by the afternoon sun reflecting off her turquoise scales. “Here for another interview date?”

“Ah, sort of?” said Ford.

Stan’s snorts sounded an awful lot like laughter.

“Oh, I figured out Ford was gay pretty quickly,” she told Stan, apparently in response to a comment Ford hadn’t been able to understand. “What I couldn’t figure out was why he kept trying to summon me with a suitor’s call.”

Ford groaned. “The summoning instructions in Eatherena Aquatica didn’t specify -” He was cut off by Stan’s repeated laughter. “Anyway, I was hoping I could get your input, Doripea. You see, we’re in a bit of a pickle.”

“Aside from the shapeshifter stalking you?”

“What?” Ford whirled around, zeroing in on a deer which had frozen in place with a wide-eyed, panicked expression. “Shifty, I told you to stay in your room!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” cried the deer. “I just wanted to make sure Stan was okay! Please don’t hate me.”

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ford realized he wasn’t wearing a mask, meaning Shifty could now take his form if he wanted. Who knew how many people or dangerous animals Shifty had come across while tailing them to the lake? How could Ford possibly do damage control on this?

“You don’t have to panic,” said Shifty. “I said I’d be good if you let me come. I’ll do what you tell me, just please, I couldn’t just wait around doing nothing.”

“Amazing,” said Doripea. “You tamed it. I didn’t even know their kind could talk.”

Ford turned to her, curiosity suddenly overcoming his concern. “You’ve seen other shapeshifters before?”

She shrugged. “Not in a long time. It’s been, what, a century and a half? I saw it come out of its burrow to feed every now and then, but for the most part it kept to itself, I think.”

“Strange,” said Ford. “Shifty has tested well when it comes to social behaviors. It’s hard to determine such things with only one extant specimen, but I would’ve guessed his kind to be pack hunters.”

“As far as I know, only one of them has existed at a time. Can’t pack hunt without a pack,” said Doripea.

“Hmm.” Ford would have to examine the implications of this later, but for now, “Shifty, you can stay, as long as you keep close to me and stay in deer form unless I tell you otherwise, got it?”

“Okay.”

“Now, Dora, the reason I came to call on you. My brother here mishandled the selkie’s revenge and I was hoping you could help me change him back to human form.”

“How long has he been in seal form?”

“No more than two hours.”

“Oh good, you caught it early. Stan, you don’t feel any strong urges to swim in this lake, do you?”

To Stan’s grunts she replied, “Well, if you get any, resist them. This curse is designed to turn you into an elephant seal in mind as well as body. Swimming in the water will kick start that process. You’ll be drawn to the other elephant seals, and before you know it you’ll be on the wrong side of a territorial beachmaster. You’re lucky we’re so far inland, and that it isn’t mating season.”

“I tried a simple curse breaking spell, and when that didn’t work I thought we would need something more specialized.”

“You got that right, Stanford. Did you bring any material we could use as a taglock?”

Ford nodded and produced some hair he’d removed from Stan’s hairbrush. Doripea listed a few other ingredients, some of which Stanford had on him, and another she could harvest from the bottom of the lake. She sent them off to gather cedar leaves while she retrieved it.

“See, Shifty, you had nothing to worry about,” Ford reassured him as the three of them set off on their short trek through the forest. “With Doripea’s help, Stan will be back to normal in no time. You didn’t need to break out of your room.”

“I guess,” said Shifty. “It’s just that you and Stan never let me go anywhere. And maybe I didn’t have to come, but now that I’m here, it’s not so bad. Why do you think I’m so dangerous?”

Ford hesitated. How wise was it, to let Shifty know how powerful his shapeshifting abilities were? How easily they could be misused? How much of Shifty’s good behavior was due to his innocence?

Before he could start parsing out his answer, something caught his eye. “Look, there! A cedar grove. Shifty, why don’t you change into bird form and help me gather the leaves?”

Shifty was sufficiently distracted by leaf collecting for the time being. But as they made their way back to the lake with their spoils, something seemed off about Stan. He would stop moving periodically, his head cocked to the east. Then he would shake his head and catch up with Ford and Shifty.

The third time Stan stopped, Ford asked, “What is it, Stanley?” but Stan didn’t seem to hear him. Instead he took off in the eastern direction.

“What are you doing?” asked Ford, running alongside him. “That’s not the way back to the lake!”

“He can’t help it!” said Shifty as he glided through the air above them, still in bird form. “Something is drawing him that way!”

“The river,” Ford realized. “It must be closer to this spot than the lake is! We can’t let him get in the water!”

“Can I turn into an elephant seal now?” asked Shifty, and he whooped gleefully when Ford gave his assent. With an extra burst of speed, Shifty flew several feet ahead of them, then dropped to the ground in elephant seal form. The two bull seals collided, and Stan looked even more frenzied as he tried to evade this new obstacle.

“Stan, don’t hurt him!” cried Ford. “You know Shifty, he doesn’t want to hurt you! Stan, look at me, you know you can’t get in the water! Snap out of it!”

Stan paid no attention to this. Clearly the call of the water was too strong. Was Stan hearing the water? Were there lower vibrations from the gallons of rushing water that elephant seals could pick up, but humans couldn’t? Ford could only think of one way to find out.

Grateful he’d thought to bring an infrasonic transducer, Ford quickly set it to the needed specifications. “Shifty, cover your ears!” cried Ford, demonstrating with his hands.

Shifty found a hole in the ground to duck his head into, just in time for Ford to press the button. Ford couldn’t tell by the sound if it worked or not, because it was far too low for human ears to detect. But Stan let out a cry and dropped to the ground, rubbing his head in the dirt.

“I’m sorry, Stan,” Ford said to the writhing elephant seal. “It was the only thing I could think of.”

“He’s mad at you,” said Shifty, pulling his head out of the ground. “But at least he’s not crazy anymore.”

“And what about you? Are you hurt?” Ford asked Shifty.

“I’m okay. It was kind of fun, wrestling like elephant seals.”

Ford sighed, relieved that Stan had snapped out of his frenzy, and that Shifty was unharmed. “You did very well, Shifty, thank you. I suppose it was good you came after all.”

Shifty turned into a dog, the way he always did when he was happy, and moved as if to lick Ford’s hand, but he paused. “Sorry, I didn’t ask if I could change -”

“It’s all right, Shifty,” Ford assured him. “You got excited. It happens.”

For the rest of their hike, Ford kept his infrasonic transducer handy, just in case the sound of the water got to Stan again. Luckily he didn’t need it. Doripea helped him grind all their gathered ingredients into a thick paste, which they applied to Stan’s body. Then, and only then, was Stan allowed to get in the lake. Ford couldn’t think of a time he’d been happier to see Stan’s face as he watched his brother resurface from the lake. He helped Stan wring his wet clothes out and put them on, then hugged him, unconcerned about getting soaked himself.

That evening, the three of them all ate dinner together, something they’d never done before, since Stan and Ford had always worn masks around Shifty. Eating at the dinner table was new for Shifty, but he took to table manners well enough. Ford could tell it would take some doing to cure him of talking with his mouth full, though.

“Why didn’t you want me to see your mouths and your noses?” Shifty asked around a mouthful of beef.

“We were trying to protect our identities,” said Ford.

“What’s an identity?”

“Your identity is, well it’s who you are? How do I explain this . . .”

“Let me show you something,” said Stan. He ducked into his room briefly and came out with a shoebox. He pulled a few driver’s licenses out of it. “These are fake IDs. Basically they tell everyone that I’m someone I’m not. They’re lies. And they’re illegal.”

“What’s ‘illegal?’” asked Shifty.

“Only the fun stuff, kid.” With a look from Ford, Stan added, “Kidding, I’m kidding! Lots of illegal things can hurt people. Like killing, that’s bad. So the government will punish you for doing those things. If I stole someone else’s ID, I could steal their money, or do bad things under their name, so they would get in trouble and not me. It’s called identity fraud, and humans take it very seriously.”

“So that’s why we didn’t want you to see any human faces,” said Ford. “Because stealing someone’s identity like that is wrong. Do you understand?”

Shifty nodded. “You don’t want me to lie and pretend like I’m a human.”

“Exactly,” said Ford. “You’ve seen our faces now, so it can’t be helped. But if you want to meet other humans, we need you to promise you won’t take their forms, all right?”

“Okay, I promise,” said Shifty. “I won’t turn into you, or Stan, or any other humans. I won’t lie.”

Ford realized he had every confidence Shifty would keep his word.

The following week went much more smoothly, now that Stan and Ford didn’t have to wear masks so much and could take Shifty with them on field expeditions and into town. It started to feel like Shifty was a third, junior member of their team.

Shifty made it clear he thought of it differently, when one night he asked Ford, “Are you my dad?”

Surprised, Ford put down the Little Critter book he’d been reading to Shifty. He shifted uncomfortably at the beseeching look from the red eyes of Shifty’s true form, which he always reverted to when tired or sleeping. “Ah, not biologically, no. I assume you’re referring to my social role as your caregiver?”

“Yeah. You tuck me in at night, like Little Critter’s dad. And we play during the day, and you take care of me. We love each other.”

Ford was surprised at Shifty’s word choice. He’d always found Shifty interesting, at least, and Ford couldn’t deny he’d become quite invested in Shifty’s welfare, but love? How did you quantify such a thing? How did Shifty even know what that meant?

“Isn’t that how human families work?” asked Shifty.

“I - yes, I suppose. I’m afraid it’s not my area of expertise. I never expected to make a human family of my own. I’m still just trying to be a better brother to Stanley.” Ford adjusted the cushion he sat on, next to the opening of the den Shifty preferred to sleep in, rather than a more traditional bed. “But you, Shifty, you’re not human. Why would you want a human family?”

“I dunno. I thought it would make me happy. We don’t have to be family if you don’t want to.”

Shifty curled around himself, rolling deeper into his den, and Ford felt his heart sink. “I do want you to be happy,” he told Shifty. And that was when he knew Shifty had become more than an experiment to him. He had more than a scientific interest in helping this creature learn and grow. He had felt that way for a long time. “You can call me Dad if you want.”

“Really?” Shifty scrambled out of his den, morphing into a dog as he went. His paws rested on Ford’s shoulders, and he nuzzled his soft, furry head into Ford’s neck. Ford reflexively hugged him back, stroking his pelt. “Thanks, Dad.”

The enormity of it hit him then. He was a father now. Another being depended on him, loved him. He was Shifty’s whole world. And Shifty was his.

Ford hugged him tighter. “I love you, Son,” he said.

“I love you, too. Dad.” said Shifty.

When Shifty called him Dad the next morning at breakfast, Stan raised his eyebrows. “Shifty’s your kid, now?” he asked Ford.

“Last night, I asked if I could call him Dad, and he said yes,” Shifty informed him.

“Really?”

Ford tugged at his collar. “Well, he is a sapient child whom I have grown to care and take responsibility for, so. It is appropriate.”

“Huh. Well, Shifty, if Ford’s your dad, that makes me your fun uncle!” He clapped Shifty on the back. “It’s Uncle Stan from now on, all right, kid?”

Shifty smiled back with Little Critter’s buck-toothed grin. “Okay, Uncle Stan.”

“Mazeltov, Sixer!” said Bill. He summoned some lavender balloons that read, ‘It’s a shapeshifter!’

“Thank you, Bill.”

“Hey, I’m just grateful you’re able to make time for me now you’re a working parent and all.”

“I’m sorry, Bill. I know between Shifty and not having the mechanical help I need -”

Bill waved off his excuses. “I told you, a solution for that is in the works. I just don’t want you getting lost in the weeds with individual specimens while your Grand Unified Theory goes unpublished!”

“Yes, of course. I’ll try harder.”

“And anyway, once you get the portal up and running, you’ll be able to find the dimension Shifty comes from. Think of how much you could learn about his species then! Things you should probably know if you’re trying to raise one of them.”

Ford hung his head. “You’re right. When it comes to figuring out Shifty, and what he needs . . . I’m stumbling around in the dark. He’d probably be happier if we made contact with some of his own kind . . .”

“Yeah, well, for now he’s stuck with you, isn’t he? With any luck, he won’t end up resenting you the way you do your dad, right?”

“Of course not! I would never treat him the way our dad treated us.” Despite his indignation, Ford was forcefully reminded of the inhumane way he’d treated Shifty all of a few weeks before, and was ashamed.

Bill clapped a reassuring hand on his back. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll do your best, Sixer.”

The deep midnight blue of the mindscape abruptly faded away, and another voice called out to Ford.

“Get out of his head!”

“Shhh, Shifty, let him sleep, he never takes a minute to rest like this . . .”

Ford opened his eyes and found Shifty in the form of a badger, scrambling to get out of Stan’s grasp. “Dad!” he said. “Did you tell the monster to go away?”

“He thinks something was attacking your brain while you were asleep,” Stan explained.

Ford shook himself awake, annoyed at himself for messing up his schedule like this. He’d only meant to sit on the couch for a minute or two . . . “Come here, Shifty,” he said, and extended his arms to Stan, who handed Shifty over.

Ford stroked his pelt and assured him, “I’m fine. Nobody was trying to hurt me. I was simply speaking with my Muse.” Really, it was quite extraordinary that Shifty seemed able to sense Bill’s presence. “Sometimes he enters my dreams and helps with my research. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Shifty looked unconvinced. “He made you feel bad. Bad shame wrong. He’s yucky.”

Ford gave an explanation that was close enough to the truth. “We were just talking about some of the obstacles setting back my project. It’s not his fault. How could you tell what I was feeling when I was asleep, anyway?”

Shifty looked confused. “You . . . smelled? No, not a smell. I just felt the, you know, the little waves, they tell you what the feelings are. I can’t feel them when I’m asleep, but I was awake. You were asleep.”

“You have a psychic sense for other people’s emotions?” asked Ford. Of course he did. Looking back, it was so obvious. Shifty had always been so confident when talking about how people felt. Ford really should have noticed sooner. “And that’s how you could sense my Muse’s presence?”

“Yes? Is that not something humans can do?”

Ford shook his head. “We can read facial expressions and body language, but otherwise, the only way we can tell how someone is feeling is if they tell us.”

“Is that why you didn’t trust me at first? Because you couldn’t tell I didn’t want to hurt you?”

“Well, yes,” Ford admitted. “I didn’t realize you were a sapient being and I didn’t know what your abilities were, or how you wanted to use them. So I kept you locked up. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. I thought I had done something wrong. I tried to be good.”

“Oh, Shifty . . .” Ford hugged him closer. “You are good. You’re a wonderful kid. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

Shifty must have sensed how guilty Ford felt, because he said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. I know you love me now.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t deserve to be mistreated,” Stan cut in. “You don’t have to take care of Ford’s feelings. He’s a grown up. We should take care of yours.”

“You’re right, Stan,” Ford agreed. “I know we’re at a disadvantage, Shifty, when it comes to supporting you emotionally. I’m bad at dealing with feelings, even by human standards. But I’ll do my best for you. Will you tell me your feelings so I can help you?”

“Okay,” said Shifty. “I wish you had always been my dad. I wish you had never been mean.”

“Me too,” said Ford.

“I’m glad you said sorry, though. I still love you, anyway.”

“I love you, too,” Ford assured him.

“And I still don’t like your muse. He’s mean, and he’s sneaky.”

“I’m not sure I like him either,” Stan concurred. “When you first told me about him, I didn’t really take it seriously. I’m sorry, it was just really weird. But if Shifty can sense him, and he’s actually real, well, all that stuff you said, about how he only picks one brilliant mind a century and all that? If I were trying to con you, that’s exactly the angle I’d go for.”

“But he’s not a con,” Ford said reflexively. “I don’t think I did a good job of explaining him. If you met him in person, you’d see, Bill is amazing.”

“No no no no no,” said Shifty. “I don’t want him in my head! Promise me you won’t let him in my head.”

“Okay, I promise,” said Ford, alarmed by how much this agitated Shifty. “He won’t hurt you, he won’t hurt any of us. Ever.”

Shifty was still wary, but he accepted Ford’s comfort. Ford could tell Stan had more to say on the subject, though, and he did, after Ford had put Shifty to bed.

“Ford, I’m just saying, your mind is a powerful thing. Letting some supernatural creature inside it is no small potatoes. Whatever you’re getting out of this arrangement you got, make sure he’s not short changing you.”

“Of course he’s not! Look, Stan, if you want to see the truth for yourself, there’s a simple spell you can use to follow him into my mind, next time he’s there. You’ll see, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“All right,” Stan said tentatively. “I might do that. But just ask yourself this, Ford, what is this Bill guy getting out of this? Why does he want you to build the portal so badly?”

“Well that’s simple, he . . .” Ford realized he’d never asked Bill that question before, and he’d never volunteered the information himself. But clearly that just meant his motives were pure, right? “He’s a being of the mind, Stan. Scientific discovery is its own reward.”

“Are you serious?” asked Stan. “You’ve never questioned anything he’s said, have you? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Anger flared in Ford, quick and intense. “You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about! This is just like you, to barge into things you don’t understand -”

“Hey, don’t try to turn this around on me. I’m just looking out for you, like I’ve been doing since day one.”

“I can think of at least one glaring exception.”

“Seriously, Stanford? Are you going to hold that one mistake over me for the rest of my life?”

“It just shows you have a history of ruining my work right when it’s about to pay off. You never cared about the things that are important to me, you’re only interested in chasing your cheap thrills.”

“I never cared about what was important to you? I thought I was important to you! You think I went to prison in three different countries just for the fun of it? I did what I had to, just to survive. Which I’ve had to do for over ten years, while you never bothered to stick your nose out of a book long enough to check on your brother.”

Ford’s seething response melted away at the thought of Stanley shivering, Stanley hungry, Stanley alone. “Stanley, I - I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t care about you. These past weeks with you have meant the world to me. You’re right. I should’ve tried to reconnect with you sooner, and - and I shouldn’t still be blaming you for something you did in high school.”

Stan’s gaze shifted down to his feet. “It wasn’t that I didn’t care about your perpetual motion machine. I really didn’t mean to break it, and I should’ve owned up to what I did and told you instead of trying to fix it myself. I may not understand everything about this portal, but I really do want to help you. It’s just that this Bill guy seems fishy to me.”

“And I told you, you have a chance to talk to him yourself. Will you at least try to keep an open mind about him until then?”

“I will, if you try to keep your mind open to the idea that he may not be what he seems.”

“I . . . suppose that’s fair.”

“Now will you please get some sleep? Between the kid and the portal you’ve been running yourself ragged.”

“It’s not so bad as all that.” Ford tried to shrug it off. “I think if I change the alignment on the oscillator I might get a better charge on the clux fapacitor -”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

“It won’t take that long to test out. Anyway, I got a nap in earlier, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, a ‘nap.’ Looked more like you passed out from sheer exhaustion. You definitely need more sleep.”

“I can sleep when I’ve published my Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness.” And with that, Ford escaped to the basement before Stan could respond.

Ford didn’t want to admit it, but this whole business unsettled him. Stan was the one person he trusted best in all the world, but Bill was his Muse, the one who not only saw what Ford could be, but gave him the tools to achieve it. Now the two seemed to be setting themselves against each other. Ford didn’t want to think of what the outcome would be, should he be forced to choose between them. He could only hope it wouldn’t come to that.

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#stanford pines #stanley pines #gravity falls #found family #fanfic #7500 words #do not tag as stancest

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