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#What I’d expect from Marvel now since it literally took me a few seconds to pull up my calendar app (you can also do it on your computer)
name-me-regret · 3 years
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I will say this, the day of this date is wrong. December 17, 1991 is actually a Tuesday, not a Friday. The Starks died on the 16th, which is on a Monday, and the article was obviously printed the next day, which was on Tuesday, 17 of December of 1991. That is all.
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all worth it
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pairing: tom holland x interviewer!reader
summary: tom is an actor, doing interviews is a part of his job. but there’s just something about you that makes him feel like the stress that comes with press tours and interviews is all worth it.
warnings: none, just fluff
notes: literally got this idea from looking at an onward interview gif (the one where he recites the lines from back to the future, iykyk) also imagine the pandemic never happened in this jfskgh
so tom loves his job, obviously
he gets to be his number one favorite superhero, make people happy, do what he loves, and more
but that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to his career
there is actually a lot of stress that comes with being in the limelight and that includes people constantly watching your every move, being critiqued, questioned and put on the spot
and the perfect time for all this to occur? during interviews
now some of the time, interviews are nice, sometimes they’re even fun
but unfortunately a lot of the time, the same questions are asked in each and every one, one after the other, for hours on end and it honestly gets very boring and very draining very fast
so to be quite frank, he wasn’t expecting much when he walked into the next room for his last interview of the day
but when you walked in, he couldn’t help but perk up a bit
you were pretty and you seemed very nice as well, greeting everyone, including the crew as you made your way over to tom, jacob and zendaya
some of the interviewers would just walk straight to their seat and start the questions almost immediately, no warmth in their manners––but you, you were different
you shook each of their hands, smiling wide as you said hello
you couldn’t really contain your enthusiasm, you were a big marvel fan, and a fan of each of them, so you couldn’t tame your smile even if you wanted to
your energy was infectious and tom was more than grateful for it
when you reached him, he looked into your eyes deeply and you had to snap out of your daze before you made a fool of yourself
‘hello darling’ he licked his lips as he looked up at you, a gracious smile on his face and you blinked a couple times before responding
‘hi it’s––so nice to meet you, i’m a big fan.’ you turned to look at the others, ‘of all of you, really.’ 
they all ‘aww’ed and accepted your compliments, thanking you as you took your seat
when you were given the green light to start, you gave a curt nod to the crew behind the cameras and started right away
you were professional and good at your job, making the cast feel welcome and at ease after a long day of work
you told jokes, asked interesting questions that others hadn’t and since you were a marvel fan, you were able to ask specific questions that showed your genuine interest in the comics, the films, the plots and more
tom could feel himself getting more comfortable as the interview went on and the smile never left his face throughout the entire thing
when it ended and they turned the cameras off, you all felt a bit disappointed that you would have to say goodbye so soon, you were all having a good time and genuinely laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt 
you thanked them all for their time and jacob was quick to wave you off
‘no thank you––i think we can all agree that we saved the best for last today.’ he looked to his friends and they nodded along
zendaya chimed in ‘for real, this was fun.’
you smiled, honored that you managed to make their day a little better and tom spoke up quietly, making you turn to look at him
‘yeah this, this was really great. thank you y/n.’
you could feel your cheeks heating up but you nodded, smiling as you tried your best to calm your raging heartbeat ‘my pleasure’
tom would have loved to speak with you more afterwards honestly, but unfortunately as soon as he exited the room, he and his friends were being ushered towards the next location for the day, preparing for the long week they still had ahead of them
though you had hoped to see more of tom, you only had one interview with him, so you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon
or so you thought, anyway
your boss surprised you with a chance to go to the premiere, and interview some of the cast and other actors on the red carpet of course (since you were there for work)
you honestly thought that if tom did see you, he would only give you a small wave, maybe a slight head nod at best since you’d already interviewed him, but to your surprise, when he saw you, he smiled immediately and made his way over to you, swerving away from his entourage (which consisted of his brothers, assistant, and others you didn’t recognize)
‘hi love, how are you?’ 
his eyes were shining under the bright lights on the carpet and there were hundreds of shouts and conversations going on around you, but he somehow managed to make you focus only on him, from his voice and presence alone
‘good! how are you? you excited? nervous?’
he laughed, tilting his head, ‘both, but you know, i’m really proud of this film and i’m ready for people to see it’
you didn’t have much time to talk since there were plenty of other interviewers, journalists and on top of that he had to take pictures so you wished him good luck and he thanked you genuinely
‘i have to run, but be sure to tell me what you think of the movie afterwards, yeah? i know you’re a marvel fan, wanna see if it lives up to your standards’ he winked and you stuttered for a bit, agreeing as he walked off 
you were shocked that he wanted to hear your opinion, but granted there was a camera on you both, which you might have forgotten about while you were talking
but you couldn’t help but think, was that flirting? does he really want to know what i think?
you tried to push the butterflies down and focus on the film as you watched and honestly, it was easy to forget about everything else once you looked at the screen
the film, the plot, tom––everything was so captivating and entertaining, you couldn’t look away even if you tried
it wasn’t until after the film had ended, and you’d stayed for both end credit scenes that you realized you had no way of contacting tom
surely he would have things to do after this, after parties maybe? so you most likely wouldn’t see him outside
and it’s not like he followed you on instagram––he probably wouldn’t even see your dm if you sent one
as you were on your way out, thinking about all this, you felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned, a smile on your face
but soon realizing it wasn’t who you’d hoped, you tried to not let the disappointment show on your face but as you looked clearly, you realized the man looked familiar
‘hi’ he smiled, ‘i’m tom’s assistant’ you nodded, greeting him a little confused
‘tom’ he started, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, ‘wanted me to give you this’ he handed you the paper and you opened it, feeling your stomach jump when you realized a number was scribbled on it, signed -tom ;)
without even realizing, you stared at the ink on the paper for a few seconds silently before his assistant snapped you out of it
‘he wanted you to know that he’s not a dick and he would have come if he could’
you laughed and looked up at him
‘honestly he felt really bad he couldn’t come himself, trust me.’
you nodded and put the paper in your bag, ‘thank you, i’ll be sure to use this’ you smiled
he smiled too, ‘tom hopes you will’ 
you had a feeling that tom would be busy that night, and probably hungover the next morning, so you waited a couple of days before contacting him
and during those two days, tom was honestly freaking out inside...and outside
were you not interested? was he too forward? did he do something wrong? did you get the wrong idea of him?
he was even texting harrison, jacob and zendaya about it in their group chat
tom: i’m an idiot aren’t i
zendaya: yeah but we already knew that
tom: 😑
harrison: i’m sure she’ll text you, maybe she’s just busy
jacob: yeah man, you’re a total catch
jacob: and anyway if she doesn’t want you, i’ll have you 😏
tom: thanks babe 😘
zendaya: i’m just gonna go––
tom: but anyway, i don’t think i’ll ever shoot my shot ever again because this is just embarrassing
not even a full minute passed before the he send the next text 
tom: nevermind she just texted me
tom almost dropped his phone when he saw the message pop up
maybe: y/n: hi tom! this is y/n :) i’m free to give you my thoughts on the movie when you are
you felt like you were going to be sick when you hit send on the message––you didn’t want to bother him, it’d been several days, what if he changed his mind? 
and you––nevermind he responded immediately
tom: hi darling :) i’m glad you used my number 
tom: i’m free to talk now actually, we could facetime if that’s easier? only if you want, of course
you paused when you read his text, luckily you had showered and gotten dressed today so you didn’t look a mess but you opened the camera just to check if you looked alright
were you really about to facetime tom holland?
when you finished fixing your hair, smoothing down your eyebrows and licking your lips, you swallowed your nerves and replied
y/n: sure, i’d like that
he took a deep breath and hit the call button, eagerly waiting for it to connect when you answered
when you both came into view, you smiled, greeting each other shyly
‘was a little worried when you didn’t call me that night’ he admitted sheepishly
your brows raised, surprised ‘oh i just––i assumed you would have been busy you know, after parties and all that’ you laughed and he joined you, a small smile on his face
‘darling even if you called me during the party, i would have left just to talk to you––missed hearing your voice honestly’ 
when you paused to answer a blush coated his cheeks and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked
‘sorry was that lame?’ he laughed nervously and you shook your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile
‘no––that was, really sweet actually. i––like talking to you too, it’s really nice’ 
soon you get to talking about the actual movie and you couldn’t stop the praises from flowing
‘honestly it was incredible tom, you were incredible, i loved it’
‘thank you love, i’m really glad you enjoyed it, i was hoping you would.’
and the way that tom smiled bashfully and blushed, even pointing the camera away from his face to hide at one point had you swooning more than ever
after that, you and tom texted here and there, sometimes even facetiming, and he wouldn’t hesitate to compare you to his other interviewers and even tell you about it
‘had an interview today, can’t even compare it to yours, love’ 
you just rolled your eyes, a smile on your face ‘oh shut up, tom’ 
you talk often but due to both of your busy schedules, months go by before you see each other again
you run into him at red carpets for other marvel movies, and there’s never a dull moment between the two of you
‘‘there’s my favorite interviewer’ his smile was wide as he walked up to you. ‘you excited for this one?’
you scoffed, fully having a conversation with tom as though you weren’t on camera ‘of course i am, it looks amazing’
‘even better than my movies?’
you raised your hands in surrender, ‘legally, i can’t answer that’
he put a hand to his chest, acting dramatically offended ‘wow well, i guess it’s time for me to go then’
‘at least save me a seat?’ you joked
‘you know i will’ he smirked
by the time ‘the devil all the time’ press came about, you hadn’t told tom that you were assigned to interview him, honestly it was a last minute schedule change 
honestly, he’d gotten good at hiding his bad moods from the public, but you’d known him for enough time now to be able to see when he wasn’t at his 100%
which is why you could see him visibly brighten up when he walked into the room and saw you
‘what are you doing here?’ he asked, clearly (pleasantly) surprised as he hugged you 
‘uh, my job?’ you joked, ‘you didn’t actually think i only interviewed for the mcu did you?’
he blushed, ‘well i uh––no, obviously not’ he said unconvincingly but you brushed him aside as you got ready for the interview
once you started, tom couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, you were just really good at your job and he enjoyed being with you, even when it was for work
‘so obviously audiences are used to seeing you as peter parker, a rather lighthearted character, despite all the hardships he’s had to face––would you say approaching a character as dark as this was challenging in any way? mentally, emotionally, or just in regards to the fact that the public would be seeing a new, more sinister, villainous side to you?’
‘i mean it was a little daunting, definitely. but i was excited to sort of branch out mentally and challenge myself emotionally for this role––the story was fascinating to me and i was just so proud to be a part of this project, i tried not to think of any downsides.’ 
he paused and licked his lips, a glint in his eyes. ‘and honestly, we all have a little bit of a dark side, don’t we?’ 
you paused. of all times to flirt––
‘well hopefully not to the same extent of your character,’ you joked and thankfully the conversation smoothly transitioned elsewhere
now the fans took notice of your bond with tom
they noticed that tom seemed to smile the brightest and laugh the loudest during your interviews, even jumping into other conversations and answers to questions that were directed to his costars
there were dozens of videos, hundreds of edits––
‘tom falling for his interviewer for 9 minutes straight’
and you’d seen them––it was sort of impossible for you to not
you’d been tagged in so many of them, even your friends sent them to you
i mean you weren’t blind, tom was attractive and he did make your heart flutter but you assumed that he didn’t want a relationship since his career was only progressing, skyrocketing either––it would probably be difficult to maintain a solid relationship, or maybe he just wasn’t interested in you so you said nothing
it wasn’t until he had a break from filming that he asked you to hangout, and still you thought nothing of it, until he asked what time he should pick you up
you paused, and he even thought that you froze when really you were just processing what he said
‘like a––date?’ you asked hesitantly
he smiled, scratching the back of his head nervously, ‘yeah? yeah i––like a date.’
you smiled, ‘i would love to tom. but aren’t you worried about pictures spreading online? headlines and all that? i wouldn’t want to add any more stress––’
‘i promise love,’ he interrupted your worried rant, ‘you make it all worth it.’
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simonsrosebud · 3 years
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what if kevin & dalton had been set up instead of meeting on their own?
(pls accept this as apology for not posting any kalton for MONTHS)
kevin doesn’t have a date to the banquet.
normally, it’s fine.  he’s taken allison or renee to the last few, as friends.  but this year, renee has something going on with gwen, their freshman dealer who is somehow only a year younger than himself.  and allison got scooped up by ricky, the other freshman dealer. 
“what happened to us being dates?  i thought it was unspoken?”
allison shrugs and pushes her hair behind her shoulder.  she has her arms crossed as she leans against the doorframe to kevin’s bedroom.  “sure, but ricky has a crush on me and it’s fun playing around with it.”
kevin sends her a look.  “ew, don’t look at me like that.  as if, he’s like a baby to me.”  kevin opens his mouth, but gets cut off.  “you could get a date easily, it’s fine, we’ll help.”
and she’s right.  later that afternoon she shoots a text to the team groupchat.
allison:  kevin needs a date, any and all genders welcome.  must be hot, good at socializing, and able to withstand his complete lack of care for them esp once he starts talking exy. 
allison:  i expect a nominee from each of you.  good luck soldiers.
and kevin’s going to kill that girl.
the freshmen don’t answer, of course.  all of their friends are freshmen, and they’re also just too scared to respond to the foxes sometimes.
aaron responds first, suggesting he just take one of the vixens.  neil chimes in by saying that marissa girl is fucking social alright.
kevin doesn’t get why allison can’t just set him up with one of her friends.  she has a strict rule against any of the foxes dating her non-exy friends, but it’s just an banquet. 
matt comes in last, but instead of the groupchat it’s just to kevin.
matt:  i have a friend named dalton.  he’s in his masters to become a professor but he’s chill. he’s nice and fun too, the best guy i know
kevin knows he shouldn’t be shallow, but...
kevin:  picture?
matt responds almost instantly.  a picture of his friend sitting across from him at starbucks on his laptop.  he looks caught off guard, like matt took the picture without warning.
is he with him right now?
kevin:  maybe.
he drops his head back and rubs his eyes.
an hour later, the door opens.  neil comes in first.  matt is on his heels, and someone else trails in behind him.  kevin sits up.
neil looks at him.  in french, he says, “i wasn’t a part of this.”
kevin stands, and responds back in french.  “you let him in.”  neil shrugs at that, and continues down to the bedroom.
matt nods at him with a smug smile.  “do you still have your psych 101 workbook?  i have to take it next semester and i don’t wanna buy it.”
kevin frowns.  is he not going to introduce his friend?  “uh, yeah.”  he turns to his desk and rummages through the drawers to pull it out.
“oh, this is dalton, by the way.  he’s a friend from sophomore year.”
there it is.  kevin turns back, book in hand, and nods at dalton.
dalton smiles, calm and charming, and tilts his head a bit.  “he’s lying.  i was his TA.”
kevin gives a smile.  it’s small and faint, and mostly fake.  he can’t help it.  he doesn’t care for small talk like this.  how old does that make dalton?
also, how did matt befriend his TA?  kevin’s never spoken a word to the majority of his own.
“can’t imagine having to deal with him in class,” he says, jokingly.
matt doesn’t defend it, just shrugs and moves on.  “hey, did you find a date to the banquet yet?”  he wiggles his eyebrows.  
kevin’s gonna kill him.  he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket so he can ball his fists.  “not yet, no.”
he nods, nudges dalton.  “kevin’s on the exy team, too.  he’s the only one without a date to the winter banquet this year,” he says.  “allison, remember allison?  she’s on a manhunt to find someone she approves of for him.”
dalton considers it.  “that sounds like allison.”
kevin refrains from frowning.  “have you met her?”
dalton has, just one time when he and matt went to a football game this fall and made a pit stop to matt’s room.  it’s also when he met neil, albeit very briefly.  neil had too much going on to give him the time of day.
“once, a month or so ago.”
when matt and dalton get into the car, dalton turns halfway in his seat to fully face matt.  “he doesn’t have a date?”  matt shakes his head.  “is he into guys at all?”
matt glances at him.  “yeah, he’s bisexual.”
dalton raises his eyebrows.  “um, hello?!  why didn’t you set him up with me?!”
matt frowns and shoots his friend a look.  “why do you think we just went over?!  i took psychology freshman year!”
dalton’s gonna kill him.  “but you didn’t say anything about me to him.”  matt rolls his eyes and waves him off, and dalton sits back in his seat.
“i know kevin, i know what i’m doing.”
he crosses his arms.  “you’re the worst wingman i’ve ever met.”
but low and behold, kevin texts matt a few hours after his visit.
kevin:  how do u know dalton would want to be my date to the banquet?
matt:  bc he literally told me so
kevin:  fine, ask him if he wants to go and i’ll take him.
when dalton climbs on the bus behind matt, it takes him only a moment to spot kevin and make his way over.
the banquet is five hours away, so the foxes and their dates are changing into their formalwear once they arrive.
dalton has joggers on, and a long sleeve henley that’s a size too big.  his collarbone hangs out as the collar hangs low.  he wears a soft smile, and pushes a hand back through his hair. 
he looks hot.
dalton looks even more hot dressed up in his suit.  he keeps at kevin’s side at first, and talks to both matt and dan from time to time.  allison even pops up once to inquire about him, since he wasn’t one of her picks.
dalton and matt seem to joke around like they’re best friends.  but he doesn’t ever remember matt mentioning him.
then again, if kevin had friends outside of exy, he may not introduce them to the foxes, either.
he finds his way back to kevin’s side at their table, where he’s talking to a trojan player.  after a while, kevin turns to him.  “you don’t have to stick by my side, if you don’t want.”  he almost feels bad.
dalton shrugs and smiles.  “what if i want to stick by your side?”  the way that kevin reacts shows that he wasn’t expecting that, and dalton’s smile turns shy.  “um, i don’t mind, really.  i’d feel bad leaving you alone.  i’m your date.”  he takes a sip of his drink.
“okay.”  it barely leaves kevin’s lips, but it’s enough to make dalton happy.
“you can even talk exy to me, if you want.  i can pretend i know how it works.”
kevin’s heart seizes.  “you don’t know exy?”
dalton grins.  “i’ve never even seen a game.”  he leans closer.  “teach me?”
so he does.  for the next half hour, they sit and kevin blabbers on, and dalton listens and asks questions.  and then they sidetrack somehow to talking about marvel movies and what they suspect will happen in the next spiderman movie.
dalton swears to die on the grave that peter parker is a bisexual icon.
“you can take that title, instead, though.”  his grin is cheeky.  kevin lightly kicks his ankle and rolls his eyes, but he’s heavily amused.
“what about you?  what are you?”
“gay,” he shrugs.  “not much to it.”
“did you… when you told people, how did they react?”
dalton’s head tilts just a bit, and his smile starts to fade.  “some people don’t like it, but it was fine for the most part.”  and after a moment.  “why, are you okay?”
kevin nods.  
dalton doesn’t believe it.  and he supposes he doesn’t know kevin enough to say that, but there’s something about the way kevin doesn’t verbally respond to it that sits weird in his head.
he props his chin in his hand.  “i told my roommates i was gay the first week of freshman year.  my roommate knew, but we had two suitemates, and one of them kinda stopped talking to me after that if he could help it.”  he flicks his eyes up to meet kevin’s.  “my uncle asks me at every family function if i’ve got a girl yet.  he’s known for seven years, now,” he says.  “and thanksgiving is now hosted at my house because my grandmother told my mother that i was unwelcome in hers.”
harsh.  
“i’m sorry.”
he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say, really.  he barely has family as it is, but he can’t imagine losing them now because of something so small.
but dalton just shrugs a shoulder.  “it’s okay.  think about it this way, if i was still in the closet i wouldn’t be your date right now.”  he cracks a smile.  always smiling.
that’s when kevin notices just how close their faces are.  and how he keeps glancing at dalton’s mouth.  he sits back.  not here.
dalton goes to the bathroom, and matt takes his seat.  “how’s it going with dalton?”
kevin frowns.  “fine, why?  did he say something?”
matt’s face is indescribable.  “no, but i see you guys getting all close and stuff.  just flirt with him, dude!  he obviously likes you.”
yeah right.  “i-i don’t think so.  he’s just here because i didn’t have a date.”
matt drops his head for a second.  “kevin, after you first met him he scolded me for not setting you two up.  he doesn’t watch exy, and he’s not here for the famous kevin day, just give him a chance.”  kevin looks to the side, where dalton’s on his way back talking with dan at his side.  they’re getting closer, so he talks fast and quiet.  he stands.  “don’t fuck this up, he’s hot and nice,” he whispers, and grins when dan slides into his side.
“we wanna dance.  boys?”  she looks expectantly at both kevin and matt.  matt doesn’t have a choice, but he’d never say no anyway.
dan pulls kevin up and shoves him lightly into dalton, who catches a hand on his waist.  kevin wants to squirm out of it, but not because he doesn’t like dalton, or dalton’s touch.  just because the idea of liking dalton scares him a bit.
but dalton lets go when he finds his balance.
“i don’t- i can’t dance.”
“yeah right, i’ve seen you at eden’s before.”
when he was belligerently drunk.
“you don’t have to.” dalton’s voice is soft behind him.
matt slides his gaze to kevin.  don’t fuck this up.
he turns.  how has his life come to this?  “no.  i will, if you want to.”
dalton grins, lopsided and happy.  “yeah?”
he hopes he doesn’t regret it.  “yeah.” 
so dalton takes him by the hand and leads him after matt and dan.  the majority of the foxes are in the midst of the crowd as well, but they don’t pay them any mind.  there’s enough people that kevin can pretend he’s at eden’s.
kevin is a terrible dancer.  dalton notices it right away and laughs.  when kevin gives him a look he says, “follow my lead.  just sway a little.  nod your head to the music,” kevin looks up at him while he dances, but catches dalton’s eyes instead.
he looks away and falls out of rhythm.  “sorry,” he mumbles.
“it’s okay.”  dalton gently takes kevin’s hands and puts them on his waist.  it feels illegal.  his hands feel like dead weights, he doesn’t know what to do.
is he blacking out right now?
but then dalton’s moving his hips and dancing, and laughing.  he’s having fun and kevin wants to have fun too.
he moves his hands from dalton’s waist to around his neck, and dalton hesitates with his hands near kevin’s hips until kevin nods.
dalton’s fingers dip into his hips.  his one finger taps along the beat of whatever song is playing, while he lightly sings along and bounces back and forth.
it’s dark on this side of the court with the exception of some colored lights darting around.  the designated dancing spot.
kenna is kissing jack in the crowd.
kevin looks back to dalton, singing with a smile plastered on his face.
no one would notice.
kevin’s fingers twitch against dalton’s neck.  but someone could.
he’s already out, but that doesn’t mean he’s kissed a boy in public yet.
he drops his arms.  “i need some air.”
dalton let’s go, “are you okay?”  but he just nods and takes off, off of the court and down the hall to the locker rooms.  the foxes have their things in the away men’s locker room.
kevin sinks down on the bench.  he plays with the bracelet around his wrist, courtesy of betsy in case he needs something to fidget with.  opposed to panicking, that is.
that woman is never wrong.
kevin likes dalton, that’s not in question nor is it really the problem.  the problem is that he doesn’t know what his problem is.  if it’s what people will say when they see that he truly is into men.
being told something versus seeing proof that it’s real are two different things.  he’s learned that, dealt with it more than once.  the last time it was the proof of the raven’s bullying and abuse.  being told that kevin and riko’s relationship isn’t what the fans fantasize it is versus then seeing proof that it isn’t anything that they thought, for example.
kevin had to deal with backlash like that for months after the raven’s investigation post championship game.  him being bi isn’t the same, of course, but he doesn’t know how to predict the behaviors of his fans.  he doesn’t know what they’ll support or not.
but he likes dalton.
“hey.”
one of the freshmen, eva, stands in the doorway.  “stop running 
you don’t have to be scared of people seeing you dance, you know.”
kevin frowns.  “i don’t care about dancing.”
“yeah, but you care about dancing with your date.”  they cross their arms and lean against the doorframe.  “no one cares.  half this team is a little gay, anyway.”
once they’ve changed for the night in the hotel room, dalton hesitates from where he stands by the bed.  “are you okay?  you seemed a little jittery all night, i just... i wanna make sure everything’s fine, i guess.”
kevin looks up, but doesn’t answer. 
stop being so afraid of everything.
he opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know what he can say.
he sighs.
dalton’s standing there, arms crossed, concerned.  kevin swallows his fears as he makes his way across the room until he’s standing right in front of dalton, and slides a hand behind his neck to kiss him.
dalton hums, surprised.  after a moment he brings a hand to kevin’s chest, and there’s a second where kevin thinks hes going to be pushed away.  instead his fingers dig into his hoodie and he pulls kevin closer.
dalton’s smiling as kevin pulls away.  “about time,” he mumbles, and kisses him again.
the back of dalton’s knees hit the bed by accident, but he drops down to sit and gently pulls kevin by the strings of his hoodie.
kevin isn’t new to sex, so to speak.  he’s not the most experienced, but he’s had his fun.  it’s the only reason he’s confident enough to scoot dalton further back and kiss him into the mattress.
dalton wraps an ankle around the back of kevin’s knee.  he curls his fingers into his hair and leans his head back when kevin kisses down his neck.
they wake up to kevin’s phone blaring.  matt’s calling.
kevin only acknowledges the fact that he has his arm around dalton for a second before he checks the time.
they’re late.
wymack’s gonna kill him.
kevin sits up and shakes dalton as he answers his phone.  “hey you guys are awake right?  coach is pulling the bus around then we’re loading up.”
kevin’s out of the bed and throwing his shirt on, tossing dalton’s hoodie to him.  “yeah, we’re coming.”  dalton’s eyes go wide and that kicks him into gear as he realizes the situation.
they look a mess as they run around.  they’ve really only got one pair of clothes and their suits to frantically shove into their bags.  kevin pulls his sneakers on without socks and dalton’s got his on with the laces all undone as they jog down the hall.
at least they brushed their teeth.
dalton drops down to tie his shoes in the elevator, and when he stands kevin takes the liberty of carding his fingers through his hair.
he shrugs.  “bed head.”
dalton can’t help but smile.  “might wanna pull this up a little,” he mumbles, and that’s when kevin realizes that he’d accidentally put on dalton’s long sleeve henley.  the shirt he’d been wearing last night before it got dropped to the floor.
dalton pushes the shirt up so it’s not hanging lower on kevin’s collarbone.  he’s got a nice hickey that needs hiding.
“they’re never going to let this go,” kevin says.
dalton leans back against the elevator wall.  “i’ve got some juice on matt if you ever need.”
kevin smiles, just a little.  despite him worrying all during the banquet, last night was so good.  he doesn’t want it to end as soon as they step off of the bus.  he doesn’t want dalton to be a one night stand, he doesn’t think.
he takes a step forward and kisses dalton against the wall once more.  he pulls away when the elevator dings.
matt smiles to himself as he watches them come around the corner.  he tries to tame it, at least.
kevin and dalton are the last on the bus.  kevin’s spot in the back is open, so they go back there.  dalton toes off his shoes as soon as he sits down.
kevin is on the aisle side.  his chest skips when dalton’s hand lands gently on his thigh.  he doesn’t hate it.
it’s dinner time when they get back to a rainy palmetto.  dalton had fallen asleep on kevin’s shoulder a half hour ago, and jolts awake when matt whoops and shouts to get out of his way so he can run off the bus for the bathroom.
“sorry,” dalton says quietly, scratching his head and yawning into the back of his hand.
“i didn’t mind.” kevin stretches his legs and pulls his shoes on.
dalton’s car is in the gated stadium parking lot.  kevin walks him to it, head ducked because all he’s got on is dalton’s henley.  no one anticipated rain.
dalton turns after unlocking his car, and sticks a ripped off folded note into kevin’s palm.  kevin puts it right into his pocket for safe keeping.  “so are you gonna call me after this?”  dalton’s hair is falling wet over his  forehead.
he nods, mouths the word yeah but nothing comes out.  and dalton can’t help himself, so he takes a step forward and kisses kevin one last time, gentle as he hesitates with his fingers hovering over his cheek.
kevin’s  got nothing to lose at this point, so he curls his hand alone dalton’s neck and steps closer.
he only pulls away because the team is most likely watching, and someone whistles.  “i’ll call you,” he nods.  he shoves his hands into his pockets and ignores the rain as he watches dalton drive out of the parking lot.
he turns towards the maserati and sees andrew shakes his head.  kevin looks down at himself.  he’s halfway to soaked.  not ideal for such an expensive car. which leaves one option.
kevin slides into the front seat of his father’s car.
wymack can’t wipe the smug look from his face.  “so-“
“no.”
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cblgblog · 3 years
Text
So my issues with Irondad are well documented at this point, starting from their very first scenes. Specifically the utter tone deafness of Peter’s recruitment, by both Tony and the writers. Tony starts the movie being blamed for the death of a 20-year-old kid who was in the wrong place, wrong time in Sokovia. That accidental death that can be put down to negligence on his part, is pivotal to what happens next. So pivotal he uses it in his pitch for why the other Avengers need to sign the Accords.
Tony, midway through the movie, deliberately brings a 15-year-old child into this conflict. A child he blackmails into going with him, because if you don’t, I will tell your aunt.
Charles Spencer was an innocent civilian, wrong place, wrong time in Sokovia. He died. That tears Tony up, as it rightfully should. And yet, in the midst of his crusade about following laws and accountability, he lies to May Parker about taking her 15-year-old nephew out of the country and into a warzone. Ignoring some well-established laws about child soldiers.
Tony blackmailing a child who’s had his powers for 6 months into participating in this conflict makes no sense. Ever. It especially makes no sense in the context of Charles Spencer and his mother. Yet neither Tony nor the writers seem to comprehend this. Which is why Irondad has been bullshit from the start. Blackmail and kidnapping are not sweet, father-son moments, even if you ignore the fact, as the MCU wants to, that Peter had a father already, in Ben Parker. He has a loving adult parental figure in May Parker. Both of whom cared about him before he had spider powers that might be helpful to them.
All of this, I’ve said before, so have others. And then I realized that I actually hate Irondad more than I thought. That Feige and co. mishandled it even more than I thought, and why? Because of this.
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We know the story. Peter was, supposedly, this kid Tony saved at the Stark Expo in Iron Man 2. Started out as a fan theory, and then was confirmed that yes, this is true, this is exactly what we intended.
Now, we know Civil War had different writers/directors than Homecoming or FFH did. We also know that, for all the lip service of, ‘It’s all connected,’ we know that the creatives in these different franchises do not always talk to each other, and that they often blatantly contradict each other.
Taking all that into account, acknowledging that…the dumbasses at Marvel did not think up the idea of Peter being the Iron Man 2 kid. They heard the theory, thought it was cool, then took credit for having meant that the entire time, yes, that was totally us.
We know this because it is never mentioned in canon. All those Tony and Peter interactions, all those times of yes, Mr. Stark, I just want to be like you, Mr. Stark, and Peter never mentions that? When Tony takes he suit from him in Homecoming and Peter says that he just wants another chance, wants to be like Tony, would he not mention that hey, you saved my life, Mr. Stark. You saved my life and I just wanted to be like you, and now I can be, now I can save lives like you, just please give me another chance.
If the Iron Man 2 theory were true, would he not say that? In FFH, when he’s all guilt-ridden, I didn’t save him, would he not mention that hey, he saved my life before I was Spider-man, before I was special, before I was anyone?
Now I know what you’re thinking. The Iron Man 2 thing isn’t that big a deal. It’s not a crucial thing. And you know what, you’re right. It isn’t, it’s just always annoyed me, in an eyeroll way, that the same people who couldn’t count properly between 2012 and 2017 (8 years later flashing in giant letters across our screens means that Homecoming was meant to take place in 2020), that these same people who let something so blatantly timeline breaking get through then took credit for a kind of cool, kind of clever fan theory. It’s annoying.
I’ve now realized, however, that it is far more than annoying to me. Because TPTB at Marvel did not think of that idea for themselves, but if they had, and if they’d run with that idea? If they had, it would’ve made Peter’s recruitment in Civil War so much more fucked up than it already is, but so much more interesting. So, so, so much more interesting.
I’ve talked about why Spidey’s own movies (as much as you can call them that given the level of Tony infiltration) prove that the theory isn’t true. Now let’s go to Civil War. Different writers, yes, but let’s talk anyway about why we can tell from CW that Peter was not that kid.
He gets home. May is like, look who it is, Tony Stark. Not, look who it is, the hero who literally saved your life. When Tony locks himself in Peter’s room with him (still fucking gross, Jesus Christ), Peter is just, nope, I got no idea what you’re talking about. That’s—no, I’m not a superhero, no. He’s defensive. He’s apprehensive. He’s trying to figure out what fresh hell this is. He’s trying to hide stuff from Tony. If this is the guy who saved him at the Stark Expo, why this reaction? Why not, oh my god, you saved my life, I thought I’d never see you again, not, not up close I mean. When Tony asks him to do a thing, why is it not, well yeah, duh , you saved my life, where do we start? Or even, okay, I don’t really wanna do this, but, you saved my life, I owe you?
So, nobody wrote a fucking word of any of Peter and Tony’s interactions under the theory that he was the Stark Expo kid.
But what if they had?
Tony shows up at May’s place. He does not know who Peter is, in relation to their “meeting” before. He’s expecting to have to do some level of smooth talk to get in here but, nope. May’s just, oh my god, you saved my boy’s life, come in, come in!
We don’t know for sure that Peter was orphaned by the time of the Expo, but if we base it on comics and prior films, he likely was. Most versions seem to have him fall under Ben and May’s care between 2 and 6.  O1’ birthday means he would’ve been around 9 at the Expo. So, more than likely, Ben or May or both were the ones there with him. They may credit Tony with saving their lives as well.
So, Tony starts the movie being called out by a grieving mother. Going down this route, we’re at the midpoint…and here’s a different mother telling him how great he is. How he saved the most important thing in her life. How if Ben were here (May’s wearing her wedding ring around her neck btw, you can see it in the scene), Ben would say the same thing. Shake his hand. Hug him.
Now, Tony’s got a sharp ass mind, when it’s not clouded with booze or drugs or the like. Since he wasn’t wasted at the Expo, there’s a good chance that, given some details, he remembers saving this kid. He remembers how small this little boy actually was. He remembers how light this kid was when he grabbed him. It was a few seconds in a long ass night, that he hasn’t thought about in years, but to May Parker, it’s everything.
So maybe at this point Tony’s rethinking this. He’s remembering that little boy, realizing how young he still is. He pulled that boy from danger. And now here’s this woman who invited him into her house, told him how her husband just passed recently, things have been hard, especially for Peter but God, he’ll love to see you. Maybe Tony’s rethinking this, coming up with a way out, when Peter shows up. And then, aw hell. The kid’s just a mess of excitement and shock, possibly tears…okay now it’s just gotten harder to make an exit.
Let’s pause here to say that May Parker is not fucking dumb (“Cut the bullshit. I know you left detention. I know you left the hotel room in Washington. I know you sneak out of this house every night.”).
May is not dumb. Letting the 50-year-old dude go into her nephew’s room with him, alone? Arguably dumb, even if it is Iron Man. Letting him grab the kid for some Stark…thing, and take him wherever Tony said he was taking him on 12 seconds notice? Even more arguably dumb.  CW as it’s written dumbs down May’s character for the sake of an already questionable plot point. Especially since she literally says she’s not a fan of Tony in Homecoming. Yes, her comment there comes after the “internship,” her noting Peter’s distraction and stress because of it. But still, it’s fucking weird that she’d let this man take her kid out of the country, alone, in CW. It makes her dumb for the sake of plot.
But if Stark saved Peter’s life not so long ago? It at least makes a bit more sense. He’s a hero. Peter literally wouldn’t be here without him. Why would Tony hurt him now?
So, back to the scene. Peter’s probably less paranoid about showing his stuff to Tony. Probably not spilling everything himself, but when Tony notices things, Peter’s probably less panicked over it, more willing to confirm. Yes, he’s got these powers, okay? And he hasn’t had them for long, but he’s trying to do good, like Tony. He’s trying to do the right thing, like Tony.
Now, this kid has such literal hero worship going, and he’s so damn inexperienced, he admits that. And Tony’s still got Charles Spencer’s mom in his head. He’s dead, Stark. And I blame you.
Can Tony really take this kid—actual minor kid younger than Charles was—take him and put him on the field against the goddamn Avengers? That woman out there with the dead husband and the ring around her neck, what’s he going to say if Peter gets hurt, or worse? Sure the kid obviously has skills but, can he risk another grieving mom?
So, maybe Tony’s rethinking this. Maybe he can still get out of this, improvise a Plan B. But then there’s a text from Nat or Ross. Where are you? We’ve only got a few hours, what’s the play?
Special circumstances, nobody in that group is really gonna fight to kill…it’s special circumstances, and he can keep the kid mostly sidelined.
This time, he doesn’t have to blackmail Peter. He doesn’t have to threaten to expose his secret. Peter’s willing, either because he genuinely wants to, or he feels he owes Tony a debt. So there goes the dick factor of Tony literally blackmailing a child. And the lack of questions Peter seems to ask about what he’s fighting for, the acceptance of vague answers, that’d also make more sense in this context.
In this version, Tony is both more and less of a dick. He’s doing less active threatening and manipulation…but he’s also being doubly manipulative. His genuinely good deed gives him an easy in with the Parkers. He’s playing on the credibility of an earlier, at least somewhat better version of himself. One who saved Peter Parker and hadn’t yet ended Charles Spencer.
Look, I won’t lie, I legit don’t know what I’m saying anymore, except that Marvel sucks for taking credit for a thing that they definitely do not have credit for. Which isn’t particularly new for them, and wouldn’t particularly matter if the thing they took credit for (and didn’t do anything with) could’ve offered some interesting story possibilities.
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discoscoob · 3 years
Text
Kiss in the Kitchen | Loki x Female Reader
Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who
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Three days have passed since Loki started avoiding you and you are presented with an opportunity to talk to him however it quickly escalates into an argument.
Part Four | Part Six | Chapter Index
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: angst and fluff
Read on AO3
You were sat alone at the kitchen table, on the TARDIS, digging into a bowl of noodles. A few days ago you had found some packs of them in one of the cupboards and at first you didn’t know what they were, but you could tell that they definitely weren’t from earth. After checking with the Doctor he assured you that they were safe for human consumption, as was everything else he kept stocked in the TARDIS kitchen.
Donna and the Doctor were currently visiting a leisure palace on a planet called Midnight, but you had foregone the trip in the hopes that Loki would come out of hiding so that you could finally talk to him.
Three days had passed since your trip to The Dark Ages, and you hadn’t seen Loki at all since. He had harboured himself away in the TARDIS and due to its infinite size, you were beginning to worry over the possibility that he might have actually gotten lost, but that concern quickly vanished when you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen.
Your heart rate spiked and you sat up straight. You suddenly started feeling nervous, this was going to be the first time you saw Loki in days, you were finally presented with an opportunity to talk to him, you didn’t want to mess it up.
You rushed to wipe the back of your hand over your mouth and chin, incase there was anything left on your face from the noodles and you straightened out your hair and clothes, hoping that you at least looked some what presentable.
As soon as Loki turned into the kitchen, he immediately halted when he saw you. You noticed that today he was dressed similarly to how he had during your first night on the TARDIS, abandoning his pristine fitted suits for a more casual look, consisting of dark jeans and a hoodie. You offered him a kind smile with the hope that it would encourage him to stay, but instead he swiftly turned on his heel already beginning to storm off somewhere else.
“Damn it, Loki! You can’t avoid me forever.” You lost your patience and your chair had screeched against the floor as you abruptly stood up.
Loki had paused at your outburst, his back still turned to you. Slowly he looked at you from over his shoulder with his head tilted slightly to the side, it was a subtle thing which made him look all the more intimidating.
“Can’t I?” Loki challenged as he turned to completely face you. “You really think your mortal existence is that unavoidable?”
His voice was harsh and distant, directed towards you it felt like being shoved into a pool of ice cold water, your whole body stiffened as you literally felt your blood rushing quicker through your veins from the rapid rate of your heartbeat while unpleasant shivers ran down your spine, but you didn’t let it show. You hardened your exterior, squaring your shoulders and narrowing your eyes.
“If you really want to avoid me, why don’t you just leave? Because the way I recall it, you wouldn’t even be here to avoid me if I hadn’t convinced the Doctor to let you stay!” You began to raise your voice, you weren’t shouting but your tone was teetering on a very fine edge, as you clenched your fists by your side.
By now your chest was visibly rising and falling with all the pent up nerves and frustration that were surging heat through your blood stream.
Loki was momentarily caught of guard by your outburst, but he was a master at disguising his emotions, so all you saw was his eyes darken as he took a menacing step towards you.
“I can’t believe I was gullible enough to believe that you might have actually been different, that I might have found someone who genuinely cared about me, but you don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re ashamed of me. And I’m expected to tolerate it because I should just be grateful for the fact that you found it in your heart to save someone like me in the first place. Well I never asked you or anyone to save me!” Loki finally raised his voice and you flinched. “I never asked Odin to take me from Jotunheim. I never asked Thanos to give me an army and a kingdom to rule and I never asked you to convince the Doctor to let me stay!” Loki’s voice rivalled yours and the callous tone felt like a knife straight through your chest.
You had backed yourself away behind the kitchen table, putting it between you and Loki as he had closed the distance between you, as if it would serve you any form of protection.
“Ashamed...” You barely managed to repeat the word in a whisper. “When have I ever given you the impression that I am ashamed of you?”
“Evidently you don’t hide it as well as you think you do. You couldn’t even bare to be seen holding my hand in front of your auntie and the Doctor.” Your lips parted in realisation and your anger began to dilute with regret, you were about to explain to Loki that you hadn’t let go of his hand because you were ashamed of him, but he continued his rant before you got the chance. “Yet you had no qualms about holding hands with that glorified plagiarist in front of the entire theatre.”
At his words you quickly grew frustrated again and your intentions of explaining yourself to him were quickly forgotten.
“He took my hand what was I supposed to do? Snatch it away just to please you? And what do you even mean by ‘glorified plagiarist’ I thought you liked him?”
“Surely you noticed the amount of times he stole the Doctors words, I doubt that man ever had an original idea in his life.” Loki’s eyes looked off beyond you as he voiced his suspicion, before they focused right back on you and pinned you to your spot. “And what about when he tried to kiss you? Couldn’t snatch yourself away then either?”
Speechlessly your jaw fell slack as you brought your hand up to push your hair back from your face and let your gaze fall to the surface of the kitchen table.
“I can’t believe this.” You muttered to yourself before you dropped both your palms to the table and leaned forward to look Loki dead in the eye. “I already told you I wasn’t interested in him. He approached me because he saw I was worried. Worried about you. He asked me what was wrong, I thought he was going to listen to me. As soon as he leaned in to kiss me I put my hands on his chest to push him away because I want you, not him.”
Loki paused as he considered your words, his eyes cast downwards to follow his finger as he ran it back and forth over the top of one of the dining chairs.
“You want me but you would rather no one know about it.” Loki quietly spoke, still watching his own hand.
“No... God, no.” You gently but firmly told him as you made your way around the kitchen table towards him.
You grasped Loki by his elbows to turn him to face you, he allowed you to move him without resistance, but he still hid his eyes from you with his head lowered. You ran your hands down both his forearms until your fingers intertwined with his and then you brought your hands up between your chests. He kept his arms and fingers limp, but apart from that he didn’t object.
“I didn’t let go of your hand because I am ashamed of being with you, but we hadn’t even properly discussed our situation yet and I wasn’t ready to be bombarded with questions from my auntie, you know what she’s like, and especially in that situation it just wouldn’t have been practical.” You explained to him honestly.
“Wh... why would we need to discuss our  ‘situation?’ We kissed, doesn’t that say enough in itself already?” Loki finally looked at you with confusion written in his eyes.
“don’t you... on Asgard don’t you discuss with your partner whether or not you’re, like... in an actual relationship?” You hesitantly asked Loki, as you struggled to find the right way to phrase the question.
“Well, we just simply would not be intimate with someone who we didn’t wish to be in a relationship with.” Loki explained, his tone balancing between ‘shouldn’t this be obvious?’ and ‘am I crazy for thinking this should be normal?’
After hearing that, the weight of the situation suddenly crashed down on you. Loki believed he witnessed you almost kiss Shakespeare, the morning after you and he had shared a kiss which to him confirmed that you were together. This meant that not only did he believe you were ashamed of him, he also believed you immediately betrayed him.
“Oh, Loki,” you whispered regretfully. “I- I didn’t realise. On Earth, it isn’t uncommon for people to kiss or even have sex with each other and not be official.”
“Then how do people know whether or not they are, as you call it, ‘official?’” Loki asked, looking completely perplexed by these customs, you had to admit they were confusing and only caused complications, the way of Asgard sounded much simpler.
“They usually just discuss it and come to an agreement.” You shrugged.
Loki slipped his fingers out of yours and for a second you felt your chest begin to cave, but when he pulled out the dining chair in front of him and sat down at the kitchen table, your brows knitted together with confusion. Silently, Loki gestured to the chair opposite him with his right hand, offering you to sit, hesitantly and with a questioning look you lowered yourself into the dining chair.
Once you were sat opposite him, Loki reached his hands across the kitchen table to hold yours in his own.
“I realise that these past few days I have behaved like a fool, I should have allowed you the chance to explain sooner instead of jumping to conclusions and I hope that you can forgive me.” Loki sincerely apologised.
“Loki, I already have,” you assured him. “Just please promise that in the future you’ll let me talk to you instead of avoiding me.”
“I swear it.” He promised. “And if... as you say, we have a future, may I request that we be ‘official?’” Loki proposed and you were endeared by how formal he was about it, you couldn’t hold back your smile.
“I’d love nothing more.” You confessed and you supported your upper body on your elbows as you leaned over the table to seal your agreement with a kiss.
“What’s going on here? I leave you alone for one day to visit a leisure palace and come back to find you two loved up?” You both startled and pulled apart at the sound of Donna’s voice and simultaneously turned your heads to find her halfway into the kitchen.
“You’re not possessed again are you?” She squinted her eyes with suspicion and bounced them back and forth between you and Loki.
“No.” You shook your head, before glancing back at Loki who appeared to be perfectly calm as he offered you a soft smile.
“Oh okay.” Your auntie sighed as she now made her way further into the kitchen, “because the Doctor was.”
“What?” You were hardly following what she was saying as your heart rate was racing, you don’t know why you were having this kind of reaction to Donna finding out about you and Loki, but it felt so sudden, you were hoping that you could have been able to tell her on your own terms and now you were nervous about what she will say.
“The Doctor, he got possessed.” Donna informed you, as she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge before she started approaching the kitchen table.
“At the leisure palace?” Your pitch raised with confusion, as she sat down beside Loki, who suddenly looked nervous by her close presence.
“No, on a space truck on his way to visit a sapphire waterfall.” Donna looked up when you remained silent and saw your wide eyed expression. “That wasn’t sarcasm.” She clarified.
“Is he okay?” You asked with concern.
“Yeah, just a bit shaken up.” She frowned. “But they’re going to have to permanently shut the resort down to prevent it from happening again.”
A silence covered the room while Donna drank from her bottle and you glanced down at yours and Loki’s hands which were still intertwined over the kitchen table and he gave them a gentle squeeze.
“So... how long has this been going on?” Donna rested her chin on her fist as she eagerly leaned forward on the table and glanced between the two of you.
“Uh... since the dark ages.” You softly chuckled at how that made it sound like you had been together for centuries and you caught the way Loki’s lip slightly curved, clearly amused by it as well.
“Oh, so that’s why you both disappeared.” Donna raised her eyebrows.
Your cheeks immediately flamed and Loki began stroking his thumb over your knuckles.
“But listen here, Bruce Almighty.” Donna turned in her chair to focus her attention on Loki, who quickly gave her his attention and furrowed his brows at the nickname. “You might be a divine being of immortality or whatever but don’t think that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you if you break my nieces heart. Don’t think you’ll get off lightly just because I’m a mortal either, I have a time lord on my side and don’t forget it.”
“Donna!” You scolded your auntie, as your cheeks grew even hotter.
“You have my word that if I were to ever impose any harm upon your niece I’d let you deal with me however you see fit.” Loki swore to your auntie with eyes filled with sincerity before they fell back on you, as you speechlessly stared at him completely enchanted.
***
You and Loki had just crawled into your bed for the night and although you were aware that the God didn’t follow the same sleeping pattern as you, he assured you that there was no place he would have rather been.
You were both laid on your sides, face to face, with your legs intertwined and your chests almost flush, Loki’s arm rested over the dip of your waist and his fingertips traced patterns up and down your spine, his other hand was rested between his cheek and pillow and your faces were so close that the tips of your noses occasionally brushed.
You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried. Ever since you and Loki had agreed to be official, it were as if you were receiving an endless supply of liquid endorphins shot directly through your veins, except when Donna gave him ‘the talk,’ you shut your eyes with embarrassment as it played back in your mind.
“I’m sorry for my auntie.” You apologised with a wince.
Your own hand was resting on the side of Loki’s neck and your thumb brushed against the corner of his jaw, so you felt him shake his head dismissively and reopened your eyes.
“Don’t apologise, it’s important to have people in your life who look out for you and care about you. I’m glad that she is protective.” Loki told you, and from the proximity of your faces you felt his breath fan across your lips as he spoke.
Your brows pinched together as you listened to what Loki said and considered how, from what he had told you, he lacked people who looked out for him. To hide your frown, you shuffled down the bed slightly and snuggled into his chest and in response he shifted onto his back so you were able to rest your head upon his shoulder with your arm cuddled around his waist.
“I’ll look out for you.” You promised him with a tired voice.
Loki’s head lifted slightly as he looked down at the top of yours, his features completely softened. Of course he found it endearing that a being far more vulnerable than he, was promising him protection, however more importantly he felt your words to be true.
You had displayed it ever since Pompeii when you ensured he was hydrated while barely conscious in an attempt to keep his temperature steady, then once again when you offered him a place to stay on the TARDIS and then ensured that he didn’t lose it.
The sides of his lips lifted softly as he planted them on the crown of your head.
“I don’t doubt that.” You heard him whisper as he pulled you closer with his arm around your shoulders.
“Goodnight, Loki.” You mumbled softly.
“Goodnight, my love.” Loki answered.
My love. Your chest overflowed with warmth and you pressed your lips to the side of Loki’s neck to give him a lingering kiss before you gently floated off into a peaceful sleep.
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baelpenrose · 3 years
Text
Under Avandra's Eyes XI: A Kind of Home
@canyouhearthelight you remain an excellent beta reader for this chapter, and you have helped set this up marvelously. @dierotenixe and @drbibliophile you guys have rocked - and Dr, you especially have made my day with your comments. @feral-possums-in-the-bog your binging is noted and appreciated. Also @mon015 I have noticed and love your ongoing readership as well - you are also appreciated.
Things are slowing down and Marcus and Iris have a moment to slow down and reflect after the Incursion in a small village where they're helping with a mop-up.
Marcus
The skirmishes had only been here and there. Mostly they’d been informing people that the Pikar incursion was over, that the Harbinger was dead, that a Paladin had risen. His mind was still turning - what had Vixen meant about finding her when the battle was over if they still lived? Or rather, what had she wanted them for?
It didn’t matter, he supposed, as he wrenched the Adrasnian arming sword out of a Pikar’s chest - that one had taken some killing. He’d cut the man’s ax hand off, impaled him to a tree, and still had to behead the creature before he stopped thrashing. Thank Avandra this one had been alone. He hadn’t even gotten blood on himself - just the swords. He walked back to the village where they’d been invited to stay for a time. They’d done what they’d been paid to do, but this village had been at the edge of the Pikar advance - had some of its fields torched, and it would be some time before they were able to be secure in their eating again. Which was why Marcus was bouncing the little sack of loot the barbarian had in his hand. The gems might be low-quality and the gold might be clearly stolen, but it wasn’t as though anyone robbed by a Pikar would be needing the money back. This could help the villagers buy up some livestock that would be able to see them through the winter - or at least, help.
Iris had gone hunting - if Marcus had to guess, she was enjoying being able to feed people again. He hadn’t heard from Baldor, Thomas, or Liza since the three of them had agreed to go help pressure some of the more powerful dukes to accelerate the process of sending aid. It wasn’t long before he saw her again, as he walked through the village. He found the magistrate first.
“Got one. He had some valuables on him.” Marcus proffered the little sack.
“Isn’t that your pay?” In Marcus’s experience, there were two types of town magister - useless, fussy bureaucrats who had only gotten to where they were because some lord needed to give his second son something, and hardworking folk who had amassed a degree of wealth and respectability within their villages by sweating like mad bastards behind a plow for at least four generations. The man staring at him seemed to be of the second quality, and Marcus for a moment realized that the man was accustomed to mercenaries who simply did it for money. And from the man’s bearing, he realized the magister wouldn’t accept it as charity.
“Normally, it might be. But the king already paid us for our services in this crisis, so it’s not like we’re in need of coin. And...my lover, the archer? Is a commoner by birth. I’m bastard-born, and spent plenty of time amongst commoners trying to learn a trade. Just happened the only thing I was ever worth a damn for was swordplay, but folk like yours let me sleep under their roofs when I needed it plenty of times and just asked some little nothing job that required extra hands in turn. I don’t need coin badly enough to keep something I don’t need if it can put food in someone’s belly. It’s not like I’m telling you to sell my swords or armor - as long as I have those, I can slay more monsters and find more coin.” His voice was quiet, and the Magistrate tucked the little bag into his jacket.
“Thank you, Marcus. You and your lover are welcome to dinner in the inn, expenses paid by the town, if you like. If you’re looking for your lover, she came in a few hours ago with some fresh-killed deer slung over your horses. Like she wants to fill up the smokehouse enough to get us through winter.” Marcus paused before accepting - it would let the man save some pride while feeling a fair trade.
“Thank you, magister.”
He walked away to find Iris, who he rapidly found. The Eagle had shed her boots to walk in the town green, something she did every time they stopped in a small, rural village, as though to remember what it was like to be a rather less famous forester’s daughter instead of a world-class archer. She looked over at Marcus as he approached. “From the looks of your gauntlets, you found trouble.”
“Just one. I gave his little bag of treasure to the magistrate.” Marcus hadn’t lied to the magistrate when he’d claimed it was partially altruism. But he hadn’t told the whole truth. He’d also done it partially because he knew the news would make Iris smile.
“Nice. I’ve been out getting meat. Some of the kids showed me good places to forage nearby, want to come with me? Been meaning to show you more fieldcraft.”
Marcus nodded and followed Iris, who moved like a ghost as they left the outer boundaries of the village - her steps were dead silent. “The plant over there? That’s arrowroot. It has no medicinal properties whatsoever, but if you mash it up, it’ll carry pretty much anything into a poultice. Oh, and in a pinch you can also eat it but it’ll taste awful.” Marcus nodded, and she looked at him.
“And...how do I say my name in Asgarian?”
He blinked. She was really, really determined to meet his mother’s side of the family. “Arimiss. If you want to say “I am Iris” it’s “Arimiss yi tas.” She said the words back, slowly, as she pointed to a particular patch of moss.
“This stuff’s mildly poisonous to maggots and bad humors - and it’s absorbent. If you need to staunch bloodflow in a hurry…” He nodded. That was pretty grim, though looking at Iris up and down, he realized that a forest-raised girl who pretty much only wore shoes when either traveling long distances or expecting battle would obviously know how to stop a wound from bleeding or festering. Also, humors? He knew Iris was from the south-western forested regions of the Empire and about as far from its metropoles as it got, but still. They’d been courting for years and they still sometimes staggered each other with lack of education in each other’s worlds. Or well...her lack of formal education, and his lack of practical education.
“And...my Faldrean…”
“Is fine, darling. You have an accent, but it’s a charming one. The blend of Asgarian and Imperial that I grew up with leaves you an ugly accent if you want to speak Faldrean.”
Iris nodded. “So...when we leave Faldrea, do we want to go back to the Empire, if possible? Let me meet your family, or…”
Marcus made a snap decision, one that he would later realize he genuinely meant. “No. We want to go back to the south-western Empire and let me meet yours. If we go to my father, he’s going to be awful to you, and as relatively warm a relationship as I have with my half-siblings now, I suspect they’d react badly if I challenged our father to a duel for insulting you.”
She glowered at him and he realized he might have made a mistake by talking about murdering his father in front of a girl who’d been blamed for her father’s demise by backwards villagers and had only her mother and her brother actually believe she was innocent. But he couldn’t really back down, either. “That’s not funny, Marcus!”
“It wasn’t a joke.” He cut off the statement. “But I do want you to meet my sister, and my brother. They’ve heard things about you from me before.”
“Hasn’t your father then?”
Marcus paused. “Yes, but what he said about even a bastard Wultian courting a commoner - daemons can have his ass. I will see my half-sister, and my remaining half-brother.” She nodded.
“I...don’t get me wrong, Marcus. I’d love to have you meet my mom, and my brother. I’ve mentioned you, here and there, when I’ve been able to visit, but...I’m the only literate one in my family, so I can’t write them letters. Though by the time we see them, the defeat of the new Incursion might have gotten back to them, so maybe the neighbors will believe that being able to sense magic doesn’t make someone a genuine conduit for Chaos.”
Marcus winced at the reminder of Iris’s reasons for leaving her hometown. “Yeah.” He paused. “Do you ever want to live there again?”
Iris paused and shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think...you understand. Once you leave the home you had, start running around the road, see the world, learn the things about yourself that people only learn by wandering...You just never quite imagine yourself going back to what you were before.” The two of them were heading back to the village, and Marcus deftly swiped a few daisies from the ground. He remembered her having told him that she remembered that she used to braid them into her hair when she was little, and she’d seemed homesick of late.
She smiled as she took them. “Thanks.”
The two of them walked back into the town, Marcus thinking how glad he was that the two of them had wound up being the ones left in the town. A few of the village kids wanted to see his swords, so he idly demonstrated a few forms for them while they cheered. It was cute, seeing how excited they got. Iris tossed one of the kids a stone.
“Go paint a circle around that on the ground. Let me know when you’ve done it.” Marcus knew the trick she was about to show off, and when the kid came back, Iris padded over, took a look at the little circle, walked back to the green. She counted her steps as she walked, and then nocked an arrow to her bowstring, aiming skyward. She held for a second, made an infinitesimal adjustment, and loosed.
Sure enough, to the awe of the children, the arrow embedded itself into the soil within the circle. Marcus couldn’t deny it was incredible to watch. He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it.
“As I was saying, Marcus. I think I’ve found a different kind of home. I wouldn’t mind a cottage, someday, but I’m not really invested in going back to a quiet life in a tucked-away corner of the world.”
Marcus smiled. He did understand. The road, with Iris and Baldor, even Thomas and Liza, had become a kind of home in its own way. “Yeah, it’d be a shame to…” An alarm bell rang, and the familiar scream of “BLOOD ON ASHES! SKULLS FOR THE MAW!” began echoing. Iris pulled her bow, sighted, and fired a broadhead, nocked, drew and fired a second without checking to see the first hit its target. Marcus was already running towards the sound and found only one Pikar - probably one that had been traveling with the one he’d slain in woods - with Iris’s arrow through his neck and his mouth. He carefully recovered the arrows for Iris, and called for the priest.
When the holy man arrived, he looked at the body. “There was another one I got in the woods, if the Magistrate didn’t tell you.” The priest nodded. “I’ll see to them both. Thank you two.”
Iris walked over, and took her arrows back. “Amazing how easy it seems when you can fight them one at a time. Or when I have a clear line of sight and time to aim.”
Marcus chuckled. “Time to aim. I saw how quickly you fired.” He was always impressed by it, even as Iris laughed. “What is it Liza says? ‘A master decides for themselves what they need - but even they need something to work with.’”
Marcus nodded, smiling.
“So...about meeting your family.” <<Prev Next>>
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angelkurenai · 4 years
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Imagine being part of the Black Widow movie with a character who is Bucky’s wife in the comics. Only you and Sebastian have a crush on each other so your costars try to set you up.
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“Natasha, my sister. What brings you home?” Yelena only tilted her head when Nat rounded the corner with her gun raised. She frowned when she saw the blonde was only smiling at her, no gun of her own raised. And that was even more suspicious, or even scary and dangerous, than her having one pointed at her.
“We've unfi-” she started, the words having been on her mind from the very beginning and ready to be spoken after thinking about them too much. She stopped herself though, frowning deeply “Wait a second. Aren't you... going to fight back?” she put a smirk on her lips “Where's my welcome back party?”
“Oh there will be one. There will be.” the smile on Yelena's lips was even more worrying as the seconds ticked by, especially when Natasha watched her grab a chair and slowly move it to the side before taking a seat on it. And when she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back casually, it all clicked in her mind.
Natasha's eyes widened and a breath left her lips as she muttered “Well, fuck.”
She barely had time to let it all register before she swirled around and was met with very certainly a kick in the face. It wasn't strong only because the attacker was holding back but it managed to do the job of disorienting her, making her grasp on her gun loosen up. An arm quickly appeared, ready to take it from her but she quickly grasped it, pulling back only for the attacker to swing with to knocked on her hand while an elbow met her face. Taking advantage of the hand with a gun close to her, and after just having lost hers, she took hold of the arm and twisting forced it to drop it. Both parties jumped after the fallen guns, with a roll and twist, soon on their feet to face each other and point the swapped guns at each other.
Only two seconds of silence before “S'up sis.” you said with a wide smile that made Natasha laugh and shake her head a bit.
Glancing at Yelena from the corner of her eyes to notice the blonde had taken and poped a beer open, watching the show with interest. She looked back at you, gun still pointed and smiled even more “Figures you'd be here. Since she didn't even attempt to make a move.”
“I'd rather watch the show, thank you very much.” Yelena shrugged “It's been a long time. Oh and while we're on that-” she raised a finger “Twenty bucks on Red. Sorry, Natasha.”
“Only twenty? Come on, you drink like there's no tomorrow. How is Nat gonna buy for drinks later? That won't be enough. Unless Natasha has more on her?” you complained, looking at Yelena who pouted.
“But I only have twenty with me?” she raised the money in her hand, looking a bit more though her pockets but unable to find anything else.
“Fine.” you huffed “But you two keep it down on those damn drinks. I, as the winner, won't.”
“You two are literally the worst.” Natasha tried to say a bit more seriously but she only scoffed a laugh “Already so sure you'll win this, (Y/c/n)?”
“When have I not? Wait-” your shoulders relaxed a bit “Yelena, have I ever?”
“Absolutely not. I've kept count.” the blonde shook her head “And I doubt this will be an exception.”
“Thanks for the vote of faith you guys.” Natasha muttered with a roll of her eyes.
“Hey, I'm technically your opponent right here. Don't expect my vote of faith. Especially after so long. I'm kinda looking forward to see what new tricks those Avengers taught you.” you smirked, the both of you circling around each other. All Yelena did was lean forward in her seat to watch you both.
“It's been a long while. I'm pretty sure you've got a couple new ones yourself. Speaking of which-” her smiled turned into more of a teasing one and you prepared yourself for the worst “What has the great Red Widow been up to lately? Still saving, what was it, ah Red Sparrows from their fate?”
“Hardly. The new ones seem even less willing to be saved. I'm keeping my tabs on them but, you see, the world is a big place for only a handful of heroes. Never enough of them. Even more, ones willing to use all means necessary. You know how that is. So-” you shrugged “I've expanded my horizons.”
“Ah one would wonder why that is.” her smirk only grew, especially as she shared a look with Yelena, and you cursed at both yourself for your not careful words and your sisters “I suppose, there aren't any more Winter Soldiers to save from HYDRA anymore, are there? Oh it feels just like it was yesterday. There is that one in particular-”
“Alright-” you huffed, giving her and Yelena who was trying to stifle her laugh a glare “Is that how you're planning on winning this? That's a low move, Romanoff. And you- you stop laughing. That's not fair play.”
“Oh you've hit a spot there, Natasha. I might even have to reconsider my bet.” Yelena smirked and you shot her another glare.
“I mean, I kinda remember you always fell for the ones with the blue eyes, didn't you (Y/c/n)?” she insisted of course and you hated yourself for how easily you let it affect you, not that you really had any control over it “I've got a location, in case you're still interested.”
“Oh she is. I assure you of that. I've got enough proof.” Yelena smirked, taking a sip of her beer casually.
Natasha chuckled. You glared as hard as you could at her though you knew, you could practically feel it, that the heat had started traveling up your face “I hate you both so much right now. One more word and I give up on this.”
“Then, maybe, I shouldn't mention how he's asked me several times about you ever since he found out I knew you? Oh the questions he had and the times he brought you up.” the smirk clearly didn't leave her lips and you didn't even try to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.
“I'm never telling either of you a single thing again.” you sighed.
“Wow! What a scene!” the video cuts to Scarlett who is holding the phone – his phone Sebastian notes and he hardly can keep himself from wincing, preparing himself to do that later because nothing good could come out of this. And given how the woman uploaded the video in his own account and it has been up there for a good few hours now – because, let's hide his phone away that would be great too is what she must have thought of – there is no taking it back because far too many people have seen it. Now it's his turn. And, once more, given how he's aware of how well his friends know about his crush on you, based on all the endles teasing, he is prepared for the video to be the most embarrassing one of those moments.
“Red Widow, finally in the MCU, who's excited about that? I know I am! It's going to be amazing on the big screen, especially with such a wonderful actress as (Y/n)! I can't believe how I had managed to keep it a secret for so long. I know everyone is excited, I've been getting texts and calls from friends all these days, though the one that really has been more thrilled than anyone has kept quiet about it. As some would say. What I would say is-” he smirk was full of mischief “Has kept shy about it. Because trust me, if there is one reason I'm making this video for, it's Sebastian Stan. So this goes to Marvel... and possibly (Y/n) who is not sadly away these days filming but I have no doubt will see this.”
Oh no. Oh no. Goodness, he hoped not. He didn't dare take a look at the comments but he feared, after the countless notifications, that with all the attention this was getting you'd see it one way or another.
“And since I know you follow him and will be attentively watching everything he posts, I expect comments down below or like, definitely, a dm. You two either start texting each other or else I'm gonna smack you in the head because there is only so much mutual pining I can take.” she let out a small breath before grinning even more widely.
Mutual... what? Sebastian blinked twice or three or four times. He didn't know. He'd have to watch the video again and listen to that part just to make sure it was not his own wishful thinking. And definitely ask Scarlett about it. However, he had to watch the entire thing first to see for himself just how bad it was.
“Oh and don't think you're off the hook, Sebastian. This video is also about you, if not mainly about you. I'm doing you a favor, buddy, you'll thank me for this later. After, like, you dare come out of your house when you're done dying of embarrassment.”
So, actually never, if it was all going as bad as he imagined.
“See, as I've made very obvious, he's a great fan of hers. We all are, let's not kid ourselves. However, when he doesn't let his vast admiration for that great talent and possibly small- who am I kidding, big crush on her, take his mind away he has these brilliant ideas that I can't help but agree to. And even if he might be a bit too shy to admit it out loud, I'll go ahead and say this: Hey Marvel, give Bucky Barnes his wife in the MCU...” well, maybe not as bad as he feared. The crushing part had been mentioned more than plenty of times by the rest of his friends.
“Because Sebastian would totally love to share a kiss or two with (Y/n). And we want to see the most badass couple of the Marvel comics on the big screen too.”
Well, no, it was even worse apparently.
“As would her, but that's not the point here. I've been trying to figure out a way to get two idiots together and with all this distance and work, this is the best I could think of. Well-” Scarlett shrugged and it was then he noticed the laughing behind the camera “Chris Evans' really, but if it works, hey fine by me! He said something about being subtle but I ain't got enough patience for that anymore. So, there's that. Hopefully, Marvel and Kevin will listen, even more hopefully (Y/n) you'll see this and then even more hopefully as if by a miracle I won't have to listen to you two talk about each other, non-stop, ever again!”
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years
Text
Won’t You Stay (Part 2)
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Summary: Jensen starts his first day of work and learns who the reader is...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader 
Word Count: 2,400ish
Warnings: language
A/N: There is no taglist for this series. Check out the masterlist to see how to be notified of new parts. Please enjoy!
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“Ella,” you said into your phone the next morning as you walked out of your budget meeting, ready to dive into filming. “It was an accident. I’m sure the girl on the other team knows that.”
“I know. I broke her nose though. I felt so bad,” she said. 
“She’ll live. Talk to your coach. Maybe she knows the other one and you can send a get well card or something,” you said.
“Yeah, I think maybe I’ll do that,” she said. “How’s the movie going? I didn’t hear dad come home last night.”
“There was a slight problem yesterday but hopefully it’s settled now,” you said, hearing the phone get shuffled around. “No, Anthony, I’m not getting you Gil Nicholas’ autograph. Guy isn’t even going to be in the movie.”
“Really?” asked your brother.
“Really. He’s kind of a douche. I gotta go and you guys have school. I’ll talk to you guys later,” you said.
“Wait!” said Anthony. “The Nolan situation. You said you’d help.”
“Help what? You two are dating,” you said.
“Mom and dad, genius,” he said.
“Anthony,” groaned Ella in the background. “Mom and dad will not care that you like boys. Y/N and I like boys and they don’t.”
“Yeah but I’m the only boy and our dad literally plays a badass on TV and in movies, El,” he said.
“Anthony. Our dad also was a single father to me for years. He played dress up and princesses and he gave me the puberty talk. He loves you no matter what. So does mom. Trust me,” you said.
“Yeah, but you’re like, his favorite,” he said. You shut your eyes and sighed. “You know what I mean. You’re special.”
“I didn’t meet mom until I was ten years old, Anthony. Dad and I were on our own. I’m not his favorite. There’s no favorite,” you said. “Dad is just overly protective of me is all. We’ll talk about your cute little boyfriend later, okay? I promise.”
“Alright. See ya,” he said. You shook your head as you hung up and headed onto the set, stopping by the breakfast line to grab some coffee. 
An hour later you were at the Hale’s house location, everything looking like it was running smoothly. You popped inside and saw your dad rehearsing with Jensen, giving them both a smile.
“How’s it going?” you asked.
“Good,” said your dad. “We gonna start soon?”
“Five or so minutes,” you said, Jensen staring at you.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were a PA on the movie,” he said. Your dad chuckled along with a few other people in the room.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, holding out a hand and watching the color drain from Jensen’s face. “I’m your director and the author of The Dark Woods.”
“Well fuck me,” he said, shaking your hand as you smirked. “Oh my...I am so sorry for being late last night and assuming you were a PA and you’re Ethan Y/L/N’s daughter and you wrote my favorite book ever which I was totally fanboying out over last night and I’m going to shut up now.”
“Don’t do that. You’re getting paid to talk after all,” you said with a smile. “Walk with me for a second.”
He followed you out to the back porch and across the yard, swallowing loudly when you came to a stop by a tree.
“Sorry about not mentioning it earlier. I didn’t want you to be nervous in your audition if I was there and I figured it wasn’t a huge deal if you found out this morning,” you said.
“No, no mam. It’s-”
“Please, no mam or boss or that crap. Y/N, that’s it,” you said. “I’m not even your boss.”
“I’m mostly embarrassed about how I gushed last night about the book to the freakin author,” he said, some blush crossing his cheeks.
“As the freakin author, we live for that shit,” you laughed. Jensen relaxed and let out a small one of his own. “I watched your audition. You knew Lyle inside and out.”
“I’ve read the book more than a few times. I…” he trailed off, face going red.
“Yes?”
“I should quit while I’m ahead,” he said. 
“Maybe you can tell me why you like it so much over that drink,” you said, giving him a smile. He looked around and raised an eyebrow.
“You still want to do that?” he asked.
“I’m in charge. It doesn’t mean I’m your boss. That’s casting’s job. I would still expect a drink,” you said.
“Is that such a good idea?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” 
“I sort of asked as...not friends,” he said. “You being...you and the director…”
“Oh,” you said.
“Your dad is kind of terrifying too,” he said. 
“Yeah. He has scared off more than a few guys. Or they’re more interested in him,” you said, forcing a smile. You’d never in a million years want him to feel uncomfortable so if he wanted to keep things professional, that was okay with you. “I guess I’ll be drinking alone on Saturday then.”
“I mean, I didn’t say…” he trailed off. “Maybe someday-“
“It’s cool, Jensen. Let’s get started for the day, hm?” you said. He nodded and you headed back inside the house, finding your chair in a back room. “We ready to go?”
“Mhm,” said your assistant director AJ as he took a seat beside you. You sat back and pulled on your headphones as various departments started shouting off, the camera lining up its first shot.
“Action!” you called. Your dad walked into the kitchen, pointing for Jensen to take a seat. He begrudgingly did so, your dad going to the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs.
“You live here?” asked Jensen.
“No. I pay the mortgage on this place for fun. Of course I live here, kid,” he said. “Now keep your mouth shut.”
“You’re not a very pleasant person,” mumbled Jensen. Your dad spun around and grabbed the fork off the table, holding it up to Jensen’s neck. He froze, not even letting a breath escape.
“I am still not positive if I’m letting you live yet so be quiet if you want to increase your odds,” he said. Jensen swallowed and your dad pulled away, going back to the eggs. “I hope you like fried eggs.”
“Actually I don’t,” said Jensen. Your dad spun around again but this time Jensen stared him down.
“Fried eggs it is,” he said with a smirk. Jensen rolled his eyes and you called cut.
“Do it again,” you said. “Jensen, can you pause when you walk in and take a look around this time? Notice the house a bit.”
“No problem,” he said.
“Reset,” you said, waiting for them to get out of view of the camera. “Action!”
“Hey, Jensen,” you said, catching him in the parking lot for the actors near the production office that evening. He spun around with a smile, fixing his backpack on his shoulders. 
“Hi, Y/N. What’s up?” he asked.
“I uh, just wanted to say you did really good today. I’m really happy you’re playing Lyle,” you said.
“Oh. Thanks. I’m nowhere near as good as your dad,” he said. “He’s kind of insanely good at this.”
“He’s had more practice,” you said. “Honestly though, I’m glad Gil dropped out. He wouldn’t have done what you were doing today.”
“Why’d he drop out anyways? He’s in freaking Marvel movies. He’s huge,” said Jensen.
“I think he got an offer to do some serious drama. He doesn’t need a breakthrough role. He’s already had that. To be honest I never liked the choice,” you said.
“Well, Lyle’s smart. Gil isn’t exactly known for playing intelligent characters,” said Jensen. You smirked and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I probably shouldn’t trash talk him. I’ve never met him.”
“I have. Trust me. He deserves it. You know your Lyle Sullivan,” you said. 
“I started rereading today during a few breaks. Never hurts to have the source material in your head,” he said. 
“Not sure Gil can read so you’re already winning,” you said. Jensen laughed and nodded. “You don’t have to reread though Jensen. I kept the script the same as the book.”
“Oh, I know. I could tell there weren’t really any changes between them. I just like rereading it,” he said.
“I like to read it every once in a while too,” you said. “I’d say if you ever had any questions on how to play a scene or how Lyle would act feel free to ask but I have a feeling you won’t need help in that department.”
“You had plenty of notes for me today,” he said, ducking his head down.
“I’m sorry,” you said, his head instantly popping up.
“No, no. They were good. It’s kind of why I’m reading it again. Take the kitchen scene today. It’s very clear in the book how Lyle looks around the space,” he said. You stared at him and smiled.
“Jensen, you don’t have to memorize the thing. It’s why I give you notes, so you don’t have to. I know I went a bit overboard today. I’ll try to ease up some.”
“No, it’s good. Keep doing it. It makes it better,” he said. “I want to make it look as good as possible. I can’t imagine being in charge of everything.”
“Well I only get called kid in every meeting I’m in which is lovely,” you said. “I mean my dad is the other lead. I get the whole people thinking this is nepotism thing.”
“Didn’t you use a pen name during publishing though, at least to get someone to choose it on it’s own merits, not your name? I thought I read that,” he said.
“Yeah. I did. Once I got the deal I gave my real name. I mean, people can think whatever they want. I wanted it published because it was good enough though, not because some chick in an office thinks my dad is attractive or something,” you said.
“I can understand that,” he said. “Hey, can I ask question about the book?”
“Shoot,” you said as he leaned back against his car.
“Why does the cover have a picture of the woods on a bright day if it’s the Dark Woods? I always wondered that,” he said.
“Oh boy,” you laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been asked that. If you can believe it, there was a printing error where they forgot to add a filter but it was too late to go back and fix it. I ended up liking it.”
“Here I thought it was because Lyle’s a good guy, Hale too, despite all the reasons they have to be bad,” he said. “You know, light in dark. Symbolism or whatever.”
“Nah,” you laughed, Jensen letting out one of his own. “I do like that interpretation though. I uh, I’m sorry for keeping you. I’m sure you want to get home. I have to go do some more work. I won’t keep you anymore.”
“No, it’s cool. I like talking to you,” he said. “I’ll catch you around tomorrow, Y/N.”
“You too, Jensen.”
You headed into the building, heading upstairs to where your movie had a few rooms to use. You popped into your small office and pulled out your laptop from your backpack, stretching before you grabbed your binder and sat down.
You skimmed through it and made some notes, hopping back and forth between it and your email for a while. You yawned and put your head in your hand, scrolling through a few things and making a choice on a few costume choices for Jensen and your dad.
“Kiddo,” said your dad, shaking your shoulder all of a sudden. You popped your head up from your production office desk, your dad giving you a smile. “You missed mom’s calls earlier. She had me come check on you since you never answered. I think you conked out at some point.”
“What time is it?” you yawned.
“About three in the morning. I checked your apartment first,” he said. “Come on, up and at ‘em.”
“I got to be here at six for prep, might as well stay,” you said, stretching in your seat.
“You’ll burn yourself out if you pull all-nighters all the time,” he said. “It’s only day three.”
“And it took a lot longer to film yesterday’s scenes than I thought it would,” you said. “Everything was good but the location hopping took way longer than I thought it would.”
“Follow me,” he said. You groaned and he pulled you to your feet, guiding you down the hall and outside to the night air. You walked for a few minutes until you were at his trailer door, your dad opening it up and flipping on the light switch.
“Your trailers have gotten nicer over the years,” you said as you stepped up inside
“And what was your favorite part of my trailers ever since you were a little girl?” he asked, walking you back to the bedroom. “The big ass bed.”
“They were awesome for jumping on,” you said.
“Well next time you skip dinner at our place, text mom so she doesn’t worry and the next time you need to stay late, crash here, sweetie,” he said. “Now sleep, kiddo. I’ll be out on the pullout.”
“Thanks dad,” you said, getting a kiss on the forehead before you plopped down on the bed.
“Rest up. Tomorrow’s a big stunt day.”
______
A/N: Read Part 3 here!
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darkhymns-fic · 3 years
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The Stars Pull Us Together
Having recently transferred to Luin Academy, Colette prepares to start on one of her first assignments - which she needs to use the school's own observatory for.
She didn't expect to literally run into Lloyd on the way.
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week, Day 4: Stargazing! Because I need to write at least one modern au fic of them.
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It was still early evening when Colette arrived at the observatory, the sun just teetering at the edge of the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink. There were only two of the dome structures, a bit smaller than she expected, just off to the side of the campus grounds and overlooking the undulating hills that made up the Asgard terrain. The autumn season made the air brisk, the wind slightly strong as it tugged at her hair. She had to hug her books close, hunch her shoulders just to withstand the sudden cold.
I just need to get inside, she told herself, feet crunching against the gravel. A hand reached out to the door handle of the first observatory, pulled on it and… found it stuck? Oh…
It took Colette a good minute to realize that this was the wrong observatory anyway, once she saw the construction sign to the left of her, half-hidden in the shadows. Slightly embarrassed, but at least relieved that no one was around to see her blunder, she then walked to the second observatory.
She sensed there was something different here, until she noticed the rows of potted plants that lined the steps and small ledge that circled around the building, from small ficuses to even a charming aloe vera. It was a pleasant spot of greenery over the stark whiteness of the observatory’s walls. There were no construction signs here – unless you counted the little greeting by the small steps (with a small cactus plant placed next to it) that said, ‘Welcome to the Luin observatory! Please watch your step!!!’ The letters looked to be handwritten, and Colette couldn’t help but draw her attention to it, marveling a bit at the multiple exclamation marks…
And by looking at it, she didn’t watch her step at all.
Colette flailed, and by doing so, she had let go of her books to fall to the ground. She was about to crash headfirst into the door until it suddenly opened inward, along with a shout of, “Whoa what-!?”
So she wasn’t the only one at the observatory tonight. 
Papers falling around them like lost wings, a groan beneath her chin, and Colette was ready to faint from the shame of not only falling down, but bringing another person down with her… “Ah… I’m so sorry…” she voiced, blinking open her eyes to find herself inside the observatory now. It was mostly bare except for a few laptops on a nearby desk, a coffee maker to the side, and of course, the great telescope that was in the middle, its end pointing upwards to a currently shuttered roof.
Another groan. “S’okay… I kinda walked into that one anyway.”
The voice was familiar to her. Colette looked to see a guy half-seated, one hand planted against the floor. His plaid jacket caught her eyes on the rich redness of the fabric, reminding her suddenly of winter flurries that would freeze her cheeks, and summer storms that always came by so fast, and how he would try to shield her with a broken umbrella… “Wait, Lloyd?”
He blinked, looking so confused for a moment that she wondered if she was mistaken. But the tousle of brown hair on his head, going off in different directions, told her otherwise. “Hold on a sec… Colette! It’s you!”
“Y-yeah!” When he smiled, she was brought back to the boy with the scuffed sneakers, whose home she’d visit that was off the road, overrun by bramble on the way. “I haven’t seen you since we graduated.”
“Right, like that was what, three years ago?” Lloyd mused on that as he tried to shift upwards, and then couldn’t with Colette still half on him. “Um.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” She giggled as she hurriedly got to her feet, trying very hard to not slip and fall again. She inwardly winced at her laugh, that nervous tic that she could never get rid of, even now. “Guess I’m still a klutz.”
“Don’t worry about it… It’s good, because I’m still catching you!” He laughed too, and the sound brought back even more memories out on the grass, with the sky stretching overhead that, for a brief moment, she was lost in it.
Lloyd looked older, now that she got a better look at him when she wasn’t at a tilt anymore. There was only the hint of a stubble at his chin, but his hair had grown out more, even as it made the same waves that she remembered back from childhood. He wore similar clothes from high school still, with his plaid jackets, his frayed jeans, and his work boots. It was so familiar, that she wondered if maybe they had never separated at all.
“…Colette, you alright?” Lloyd asked her, in a tone that felt comforting all at once. “You didn’t really hit your head, did you…?”
“Ah, no no, don’t worry! I’m still just… surprised to see you!” Her hands clasped each other as she looked up at him, noticing the few inches he had gained in height now. “Does this mean you go to Luin Academy too?”
“Oh, well… about that…” Lloyd’s gaze shifted to the side, and she thought she caught something pass in his expression – that is, until a flying piece of paper smacked him right in the face. “Ack!”
“Oh no, I forgot!”
After a hectic dash of Lloyd and Colette trying to grasp the sheets that had escaped her textbooks, some of them flying far back outside to the second observatory, eventually they’d gotten them all. Or, Colette hoped they did. But at the end, she was shivering and felt a little winded from chasing about various articles that her professor had given her all over the grounds.
“It’s seriously cold out. You don’t have a jacket with you?” Lloyd had latched shut the metal door, leaving them both in the observatory that was basically one mid-sized room with a giant telescope in the middle. Colette noted the metal staircase on the side, leading to the curved ceiling and any other mechanisms that she missed. There was even more of an assortment of plants here, some set nearer the ceiling while others were at the table she sat at. There was the soft hum of a laptop next to her, which she carefully placed her books near. Lloyd was already brewing up coffee, the scent quickly filling the air.
“I didn’t think I’d need it.” Colette shivered in her blouse. Though long-sleeved, the material was still light. She gratefully took the warm mug he handed to her, heating up her palms. “It gets even colder out here than back at home.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Lloyd took a seat next to her easily. “I can give you one of mine if you want.”
“I’m sure I still have the last one you gave me!” She laughed, making sure to swallow her sip of coffee before doing so. Not too hot, not too bitter. In fact, it had a sweetness to it – of vanilla creamer – and she was surprised he still remembered.
“That old thing?” Lloyd asked with such curiosity in his eyes that it made her smile even more. “It’s fine if you wanted to throw it away! Does it even still fit?”
“Yup! It fits me like a blanket still!” And it was true, that old spare jacket that Lloyd had once given her as a joke gift, but she had treasured it all the same. It wasn’t uncommon for her to wear it often when they went to school together, getting stares from other students, but neither caring at all.
She clutched the now half-full mug, looking at Lloyd with a bit of awe. He was holding his, its surface a bit more scratched, but fitting him oddly well. “You know, I thought you went to that other college?” he asked, scrunching his forehead as he tried to remember the name. “The…Spirit…something?”
“The Spiritua University,” Colette corrected kindly. “But, I was having trouble adjusting, so I transferred to Luin instead. Sorry, I think I forgot to tell you that in my last email.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Lloyd rushed a hand through his hair, grinning. “I kinda…forgot the password to that email anyway… Genis was supposed to make me another one but he’s been busy over at Palmacosta.”
“I haven’t talked to him much either.” It had been so many months without seeing her old friends – yet here was Lloyd before her, as if walking straight out of her memories.
Maybe she had been staring for too long – a nervous chuckle from Lloyd, the exact same tone that she remembered from years back. “It’s probably weird to just find me here, huh?”
Colette shook her head. “I don’t think that’s weird. I think it’s lucky that we’re able to find each other again.”
Lloyd visibly relaxed his shoulders. “Heh, you know, I think so too.”
She took her time studying him even more, from his more grown-out (but still messy) hair, to the way he sat on the plastic chair. The lights inside of the observatory were dim, just bright enough for reading, but not too much light pollution to make using the telescope difficult. It felt relaxing being in here, with him.
She remembered his words from earlier, then gently asked, “How come you are here though?”
It only took a moment longer before Lloyd explained himself. “Well… I did actually try to get into Luin. Did the application and everything. I think I wrote the longest essay of my life too. But… my grades really held me back anyway, I guess.”
Lloyd had still been undecided when she left for school back then. He would travel instead, he told her, or he’d take over Dirk’s specialty workshop. She’d never asked him if he’d wanted something else entirely. “I’m sorry.”
“You dork, you’re still apologizing for nothing after all this time?”
“I can’t help it!”
Another laugh, feeling as warm as the dim lights around them. “I don’t think I’m a good fit for it anyway.” Lloyd shrugged, but she saw the grin still on his face, boots tapping the floor in barely concealed excitement. “But you know? One of the teachers read my essay and contacted me! He…kinda kept talking about all the spelling mistakes and junk, until he told me about a side job I could do here. I wouldn’t have to be in classes but he said he’d teach me anyway.”
Even Colette was stunned at this random act of kindness from a stranger. “Really?
“Yeah! And, it definitely seemed a little weird that he just offered, but then I thought, why not? So that’s why I’m here!”
Curious on the story, and having her suspicions, she asked. “Who was the teacher that spoke to you?”
“Oh, it was…” Lloyd scrunched his forehead, but then his eyes lit up, remembering. “Kratos Aurion, I think. Maybe you know him? He really liked what I wrote.”
“He’s my astrophysics professor! I’m actually doing an assignment for his class.” Colette was slowly figuring out what he must have written. She gauged it from where they sat at, from the past nights they’d both lay on the grass of his backyard, matching patterns in the black as much as they could go. “You did always like the stars, didn’t you?”
The same smile she would sometimes think about before she slept beamed at her just then. “So do you. That’s why you’re here, right?”
She nodded, feeling more excited than before – or maybe it was just the caffeine in her system taking over. “And now you work at the Luin observatory. That’s great, Lloyd!”
“Yeah! But uh… I didn’t realize that you basically needed to know math to be an actual astronomer… So I just clean up things here and make sure stuff is working alright. It’s good enough!”
Colette giggled, looking around at the small room, neatly tidied up, just how much coffee he drank in here. “You even got some of your plants here too!”
“Hehe, well at least the ones that at least don’t need much sunlight. So no flowers or anything..”
So natural had they fallen into the rhythm of talking aimlessly like they used to, that Colette nearly forgot why she was here. It took the beeping of her phone alarm – to warn her of the small time window that she had – to jog her memory, as well as Lloyd’s.
“Oh shoot, sorry! You came here to use this thing, didn’t you?” Lloyd quickly got to his feet, downing the cup of coffee in one go, surprising Colette that he could do so while it was still fairly hot. “I may not be smart, but I’ve been learning how to operate these machines. It’s not too hard once you get the hang of it.”
“Ah, well, maybe then…” Colette went to grasp the papers, at the numbers she had written out hastily over the gridlines. “Professor Aurion gave me some coordinates to look up, can you use these?”
She suspected Lloyd wasn’t as bad at math as he claimed. Because when it came to something he really liked, he always did try his best. He looked at where she pointed, then gave her a thumbs up. “You got it.”
Luin’s observatory was a first for her, but she had used such things before. She gathered her notebook in her lap, looking over at the telescope that was bigger than most. It swiveled gently as she moved it to the right, checked over the viewing piece. It was well-maintained, which she had expected.
“Ready?” Lloyd called from the side, hands hovering near a panel.
“Ready!” she called back. Her hands turned the dial of the telescope, and then adjusted the contraption just a bit on its tripod so that it hit the exact angle for her. It was a tall piece of equipment, so she had to perch on a metal seat just underneath to view it properly.
Once the lights dimmed even lower, the ceiling of the dome shifted. She could see it rotate to the coordinates she had told Lloyd of. Another small shake, and then the middle shutter of the dome slowly panned open, revealing the now clear night sky, the blanket of stars up above.
Sometimes it was a gamble when the skies would be good for observing, especially during the cold seasons – but the cold season was also the best time to stargaze too. That was one thing that she remembered from back then.
And looking at the stars had always calmed her.
“Can you see through it okay?”
“Um, just a bit…” She tried to get more comfortable in her seat, but the metal of it was prodding her leg, and soon she knew she had edged out too far to nearly stumble off.
By then, she already felt hands on her shoulders, Lloyd quickly climbing up to join her in the observing seat. “Do you need me to be your seatbelt?”
Colette hoped her happiness didn’t show off too obviously, but his hands felt even stronger too now. “Hehe, maybe for a little while if you don’t mind it.”
She leaned back to the telescope and near the eyepiece, hands gently placed on the handles while she felt Lloyd nearby, keeping her steady.
The night was clear, and the coordinates Lloyd had set the observatory had been right. She didn’t have to get used to any haziness, or peer through a cloudy sky. The stars were so numerous, painted against greyscale, or an old film reel. But she found the cluster she had been looking for, and already set to write down her findings.
“Lloyd, you should see this too!”
“You sure? I’ve looked through it plenty of times this week.”
Colette shook her head, bringing Lloyd’s hands from her shoulders to the telescope. “I think you’ll like it.” She winked at him. “Besides, have you seen it from this spot?”
“Ya got me there.” And like an excited kid, which she had already suspected had never left him, he looked through it too, hands handling the telescope with care and precision. Colette craned her head to look past the instrument to the sky above. While specific nebulae and clusters were hidden from her, the stars to the naked eye were still spread out, like a trail through the dark.
“That’s awesome! That’s the Hercule something, right?”
“The Hercules cluster, yeah!”
It was and yet wasn’t like stargazing out in the fields, with just the crickets and the gentle breeze for ambience. A metal room instead of outdoors, (though the plants helped) and the sky partially blocked from the roof, but she still saw the same light in Lloyd’s eyes – always whenever he would look up at the starry skies.
“So, what did Kratos wanted you to do for this?”
She tilted her head. “You know, it was kind of strange but… he just said I should count the stars here.”
Lloyd turned to her in disbelief. “Huh? Wait… all of these stars? There’s too many! And just plain impossible!”
“He said that too! That an average human lifespan isn’t enough to count every single one…not to mention new ones appear while others fade away.” She tapped her pen against the paper, feeling a smile curve her lips. “But he said we should try anyway.”
“Man… this guy’s weird.”
“Hehe. But he’s very kind. Don’t you think?” Colette took Lloyd’s hand, held it like it was second-nature. “I told him about Iselia. I wonder if he figured out that we knew each other.”
“Huh.” Lloyd gripped her hand back, still half perched on the side of the observing seat, not at all mindful to the height. “He could’ve just asked one of us.”
Colette, feeling more confident then she had in years, scooted a bit from her seat and gestured for Lloyd to come near. “There’s room for both of us here! Maybe if we counted together, we could get it all.”
Lloyd barely hesitated, sitting next to her in only a somewhat tight fit. But she didn’t mind the feel of his jeans pressed against her leg, the scent of him comforting in its familiarity. “I bet I could count more! Though, can we even share the telescope between us?”
“Hmm…we can take turns!” And even as they did at first, giggling as both tried to take their stay at the eyepiece for longer, they eventually leaned back to watch the stars through the open shutter, clear from light pollution and misty clouds.
She had always liked the stars too, she thought, with Lloyd leaning against her shoulder, eyes bright as the night continued, way past the closing hours for the observatory. But now, she knew the exact reason why.
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maraudersandlily20 · 4 years
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Hey I’m a new follower, and I’ve fallen in love with your writing! Not sure if you are currently taking prompts, but I’d be interested to read your take on Harry (at any point) finding out that Remus and Sirius are/were together. No pressure though! :-)
“So,” Harry started, finding his way to the balcony on the third floor of Grimmauld Place. He had found, over Christmas break, that it was Sirius’ preferred place to hide out. At the sound of his godson’s voice, Sirius startled and turned around. 
Harry held up his hands apologetically, but Sirius waved him off. He took that as and invitation and passed through the door, mirroring Sirius’ position with his elbows resting on the railing. 
“So,” Harry started again. “You’re mad at each other?”
Sirius looked over at him. “Who is, love?”
“You and Remus. You barely look at each other, you stay ten feet away from each other at all times. When he comes in a room, you find a reason to leave. By all accounts, you seem mad at each other.” Harry counted off his reasoning on his fingers before turning his gaze onto Sirius.
The older man shrugged. “We’re not mad at each other, Harry. It’s just-”
“If you say complicated, I will literally throw you off this roof. I’ve been dealing with complicated for the past year. My entire life fourth year was “complicated”, so please, don’t start.”
Sirius laughed and ruffled his godson’s hair. “Alright, not complicated then. Remus and I just have a long past. And there are somethings that we’re having a hard time moving past.”
“Well,” Harry countered, “how are you supposed to move past something that you refuse to address?”
He had a point, Sirius knew, but he wasn’t sure how to actually do what Harry was suggesting. Remus had been incredibly distant since Sirius had returned to England, and he was desperate to not over step. There were things, moments in their history, that Sirius felt could never be recovered from. Sirius accusing Remus of being the spy, Remus disappearing for weeks at a time, their bitter farewell before Sirius was sent to Azkaban. Everything was against them. 
“You’re right, Harry. But sometimes action is not as simple as word. There is a chance that Remus and I might never recover what we had before. The years between who we were and who we are have had a grave effect. On the both of us.”
Harry paused then, taking a moment to study his godfather, trying to understand. There were things that seemed familiar in his speech, things that reminded him of a very similar confession he had received from someone himself. “Okay, so you’re not mad at each other?” He clarified.
“Right,” Sirius replied. 
“So, then you’re in love with him.”
Sirius seemed to choke on his own breath and began coughing violently. He hadn’t been expecting that at all. “What are you talking about, Harry?”
“I may be young, Sirius, but I’m not stupid. Let’s recall shall we? You’ve told me that after my dad, Remus was the only person you really trusted with your secrets. You moved into a flat together once mum and dad got married, as you’ve told me yourself. You can barely look at him, let alone touch him. Your face gets red when you think about him. I always assumed these meant you were angry at him. For what, I’m not sure. Maybe for not believing you after you were accused. Maybe for taking so long to hear you out. But, I don’t think that’s it anymore.” Harry turned his body, resting his back against the balcony, watching as Sirius straightened and coughed. 
“I think, that all those years ago, you were together. I don’t know when it happened or how, but I think that’s it. Because I’ve seen how people who still love each other react when they’re in the same room. I also know that when you’re scared, you’ll find any excuse to stay away from each other. I know that one from personal experience.” White blonde hair and silver eyes flashed into his mind, but he pushed the image away. This wasn’t about him.
“So, since all of the evidence points to either hatred or love, I’m going to choose love.”
Sirius took a deep breath, not looking over at his godson but marveling at his intellect. When a few moments had passed, he shrugged. “And if I were? In love with him? Would you be alright with that?”
Harry laughed. “Sirius, I’ve been alone and unloved for all of my life. You really think, after finally people who care, that I would turn them away just because of who they love. That seems stupid. And selfish.”
“You never know, with some,” Sirius murmured. His godson nodded. “True. If there’s anything I’ve learned from being the Boy Who Lived, it’s that people can change their opinion of you in seconds flat. So, I understand.”
They stood in silence then, the noises of the night echoing around them.
“I don’t know how to fix it,” Sirius admitted finally. “I don’t know how to say sorry enough for it to mean anything. I don’t know how to forgive him for everything that happened, for not believing in him. I don’t know how to look at him without wanting him. I just... I don’t know anymore.”
He could feel Harry staring at him, pondering his response, studying his face. When Harry had seen what he needed, he shrugged. “But you love him.” Sirius looked over at the boy, who was looking into the house. Through the glass, he could see Arthur and Molly bickering in the kitchen, wide smiles on their faces. “And when you love someone, you love them enough.”
“What do you mean?”
The boy looked up at the man he had grown to love so quickly with a soft smile. “I mean that when you love someone, you understand who they are. You take their mistakes, their perfect moments, their failures, their successes, the traits you absolutely cannot stand and the things you can’t live without. You take it all. You like because, and you love despite.” Harry reached over and grabbed Sirius’ arm tightly. “After everything you told me, how you don’t know how to say sorry or how to forgive him or how to look at him the same, after all of your reasons, if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love him... I’ll believe you.”
They stared at each other, Harry knowing Sirius well enough that if he kept his eyes on him, Sirius would eventually give up. He did, after a moment, lowering his head in defeat.
“I don’t know how to stop.” He whispered.
“Then don’t. Who said you had to?”
“He’s moved on,” Sirius responded, wondering how he had gotten into this conversation with a 15 year old. “He has a life now, people he cares about. He’s made it abundantly clear that he is okay without me.” Harry was shaking his head before he even finished his sentence.
“You’re wrong.”
“How do you know?”
“He looks at you when you’re not looking. He does this thing with his sweater collar when he’s nervous or flustered, like he tugs at it. Hermione pointed it out to me once. He always does it when you’re around.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“Nothing will,” Harry countered sharply. “Not until you ask him. But I know what I’ve seen. And he loves you as much as you love him. You’re both just afraid.” Harry moved until he was resting on his side. “Everyone I know is always so afraid. To live, to be honest, to want things. They look at me like I have an expiration date tattooed on my forehead and until that day comes, they can’t want they want.” His green eyes, so like Lily’s that is almost sent Sirius into shock, were staring straight into his soul. It was like he could hear Lily AND James through their son. “If this war has taught me anything, it’s that love is... essential. For all things. Don’t waste it, Sirius. Just, tell him. I think you’ll be surprised at his answer.”
Sirius wiped at the moisture forming at the corner of his eyes. “How did you get so wise? I’m so much older than you.”
Harry smiled and shrugged before saying, “I’m the chosen one. It comes with the territory.” That made Sirius laugh as Harry disappeared through the door. He watched as he greeted someone in the hallway before gesturing back toward the balcony. Harry left his line of sight and then, suddenly, Remus was where he had been. He had a confused look on his face, but he looked exactly like the Remus he loved so well. 
He seemed to ask Sirius with his eyes if he could come talk. Sirius nodded and watched him approach, allowing himself to feel hope for the first time in years.
____________
HI! Welcome to the absolute disaster of the Harry Potter half of my brain. I’m glad you’re here and you are ALWAYS welcome to send prompts. I’ll get to them as soon as I can! I hope you stick around and enjoy the story I wrote for you!!!! 
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ducktastic · 3 years
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2020 Gameological Awards
Over on the Gameological Discord, we have an annual tradition of writing up our games of the year not as a ranked list but rather as answers to a series of prompts. Here are my personal choices for the year that was 2020.
Favorite Game of the Year
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I didn’t know what to expect when I walked into Paradise Killer. I knew that I liked the vaporwave resort aesthetic from the game’s trailer and figured I was in for a Danganronpa-style murder mystery visual novel with an open-ended murder mystery at its core. Those assumptions were… half-right? The game definitely plays out like the exploration bits of Danganronpa set on the island from Myst but with far simpler puzzles. What I didn’t expect was to fall so deeply in love with the environment—its nooks and crannies, its millennia of lore, its brutalist overlap of idol worship, consumerism, and mass slaughter. It makes sense that the world of Paradise Killer is its strongest feature, since the cast of NPCs don’t really move around, leaving you alone with the world for the overwhelming majority of your experience as you bounce back and forth between digging around for clues and interrogating potential witnesses. And despite what the promo materials indicated, there IS a definitive solution to the crimes you’re brought in to investigate, the game just lets you make judgment based on whatever evidence you have at the time you’re ready to call it a day, so if you’re missing crucial evidence you might just make a compelling enough case for the wrong person and condemn them to eternal nonexistence. Am I happy with the truth at the end of the day? No, and neither is anybody else I’ve spoken to who completed the game, but we all were also completely enthralled the entire time and our dissatisfaction has less to do with the game and more to do with the ugly reality of humanity. I’ve always been of the mindset that “spoilers” are absolute garbage and that a story should be just as good whether you know the twist or not and any story that relies on surprising the audience with an unexpected reveal is not actually that good a story, but Paradise Killer is a game about piecing together your own version of events so I feel that it’s vital to the gameplay experience that people go in knowing as little as possible and gush all about it afterwards. Just trust me, if the game looks even remotely intriguing to you, go for it. I’ve had just as much fun talking about the game after I finished it with friends just getting started as I did actually solving its mysteries myself.
Best Single Player Game
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I honestly missed out on the buzz for In Other Waters at launch, so I’m happy I had friends online talking it up as Black Friday sales were coming along. The minimal aesthetic of his underwater exploration game allows the focus to shift more naturally to the game’s stellar writing as a lone scientist goes off in search of her mentor and the secrets they were hiding on an alien world. It only took a few hours for me to become completely absorbed in this narrative and keep pushing forward into increasingly dangerous waters. In Other Waters might just be the best sci-fi story I experienced all year and I’d highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys sci-fi novels, regardless of their experience with video games.
Best Multiplayer Game
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Look, we all know this year sucked. 2020 will absolutely be chronicled in history books as a fascinating and deeply depressing time in modern history where we all stayed inside by ourselves and missed our friends and family. It was lonely and it was bleak. Which is why it made my heart glow so much more warmly every time I got a letter from an honest-to-goodness real-life friend in Animal Crossing New Horizons. Knowing that they were playing the same game I was and hearing about their experiences and sending each other wacky hats or furniture, it lightened the days and made us feel that little bit more connected. Sure, when the game first launched we would actually take the time to visit one another’s islands, hang out, chat in real-time, and exchange gifts, but we all eventually got busy with Zoom calls, sourdough starters, and watching Birds of Prey twenty-two times. Still, sending letters was enough. It was and still is a touching little way to show that we’re here for one another, if not at the exact same time.
Favorite Ongoing Game
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Zach Gage is one of my favorite game designers right now, and when I heard he was releasing a game called Good Sudoku I was sold sight unseen. The game as released was… fine. It’s sudoku and it’s pleasant, but it was also buggy and overheated my phone in a way I hadn’t seen since Ridiculous Fishing (also by Zach Gage) seven years ago. Thankfully, the most glaring bugs have been fixed and I can now enjoy popping in every day for some quick logic puzzle goodness. Daily ranked leaderboards keep me coming back again and again, the steady ramp of difficulty in the arcade and eternal modes means I can always chase the next dopamine rush of solving increasingly complex puzzles. It’s not a traditional “ongoing” game the way, say, Fortnite and Destiny are, but I’m happy to come back every day for sudoku goodness.
Didn't Click For Me
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With Fortnite progressively losing me over the course of 2020, finalizing with my wholesale “never again” stance after Epic boss Tim Sweeney compared Fortnite demanding more money from Apple to the American Civil Rights movement (no, absolutely not), I dipped my toe into a number of new “battle pass”-style online arena types of games, and while Genshin Impact eventually got its hooks into me, Spellbreak absolutely did not. With graphics straight out of The Dragon Prince and the promise of a wide variety of magic combat skills to make your character your own, the game seemed awfully tempting, but my first few experiences were aimless and joyless, with no moment of clarity to make me understand why I should keep coming back. Maybe they’ll finesse the game some more in 2021, or a bunch of my friends will get hooked and lure me back, but for now I am a-okay deleting this waste of space on my Switch and PC.
"Oh Yeah, I Did Play That Didn't I?"
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I remember being really excited for Murder By Numbers. Ace Attorney-style crime scene investigation visual novel with Picross puzzles for the evidence, art by the creators of Hatoful Boyfriend, and music by the composer of Ace Attorney itself?! Sounds like a dream come true. But the pixel-hunt nature of the crime scene investigations was more frustrating than fun, the picross puzzles were not particularly great, and the game came out literally a week before the entire world went into lockdown which makes it feel more like seven years ago than just earlier this year. I remember being marginally charmed by the game once it was in my hands, but as soon as my mind shifted to long-term self care, Murder By Numbers went from hot topic to cold case.
Most Unexpected Joy
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I was looking forward to Fuser all year. As a dyed-in-the-wool DropMix stan, the prospect of a spiritual sequel to DropMix on all major digital platforms without any of the analogue components was tremendously exciting, and I knew I’d have a lot of fun making mixes by myself and posting them online for the world to hear. What I didn’t expect, however, was the online co-op mode to be such a blast! Up to four players take turns making 32 bars of mashups, starting with whatever the player before handed them and adding their own fingerprints on top. It sounds like it should just be a mess of cacophony, but every session I’ve played so far has been just the best dance party I’ve had all year, and everyone not currently in control of the decks (including an audience of spectators) can make special requests for what the DJ should spin and tap along with the beat to great super-sized emoji to show how much they’re enjoying the mix. Literally the only times my Apple Watch has ever warned me of my heightened heart rate have been the times I was positively bouncing in place rocking out to co-op freestyle play in Fuser.
Best Music
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Only one video game this year had tunes that were so bumpable they were upgraded to my general “2020 jams” playlist alongside Jeff Rosenstock, Run the Jewels, and Phoebe Bridgers, and that game was Paradise Killer. 70% lo-fi chill beats to study/interrogate demons to, 20% gothic atmospheric bangers, 10% high-energy pop jazz, this soundtrack was just an absolute joy to swim around in both in and out of gameplay.
Favorite Game Encounter
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It’s wild that in a landscape where games let me live out my wildest fantasies, the single moment that lit me up in a way that stood out to me more than any other was serving Neil the right drink in Coffee Talk. Over the course of the game, you serve a variety of hot drinks to humans, werewolves, vampires, orcs, and more, all while chatting with your customers and learning more about their lives and relationships. The most mysterious customer, though, is an alien life form who adopts the name Neil. They do not know what they want to drink and claim it doesn’t make a difference because they cannot taste it. Everybody else wants *something*. Neil is just ordering for the sake of fitting in and exploring the Earth experience. It’s only in the second playthrough that attentive baristas will figure out what to serve Neil, unlocking the “true” ending in the process. Seeing the typically stoic Neil actually emote when they tasted their special order drink? What an absolute treat that was.
Best Free DLC of the Year
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It’s still only a couple of days old at the time I’m writing this, but Marvel’s Avengers just added Kate Bishop, aka Hawkeye, and THANK GOODNESS. Almost every character in the game at launch just smashed the endless waves of robot baddies with their fists and that looks exhausting and uncomfortable. Hawkeye (the game calls her Kate Bishop, but come on, she’s been Hawkeye in the comics for over 14 years, let’s show her some respect) uses A SWORD. FINALLY! Aside from that, I’m just having a blast shooting arrows all over the place. She and Ms Marvel are the most likable characters in the game so far, so I hope they keep adding more of the Young Avengers and Champions to the game, and if the recently announced slate of Marvel movies and tv shows are any indication (with America Chavez, Cassie Lang, and Riri Williams all coming soon to the MCU), that seems to be what Marvel is pushing for across all media
Most Accessible Game
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Nintendo is, first and foremost, a toy company. They got their start in toys and cards long before video games was a thing, and they still do more tests to ensure their video game hardware is childproof than anybody else in the industry (remember how they made Switch cartridges “taste bad” so kids wouldn’t eat them?). This year, Nintendo got to rekindle some of their throwback, simplistic, toys-and-cards energy with Clubhouse Games: 51 Worldwide Classics, a Switch collection of timeless family-friendly games like Chess, Mancala, and Backgammon, along with “toy” versions of sports like baseball, boxing, and tennis for a virtual parlor room of pleasant time-wasters. The games were all presented with charming li’l explainers from anthropomorphic board game figurines, and the ability to play quick sessions of Spider Solitaire on the touch screen while I binged The Queen’s Gambit on Netflix made Clubhouse Games one of my most-played titles of the year. Plus, local play during socially-distant friend hangs was an excellent way to make us feel like we were much closer than we were physically allowed to be as friends knocked each other’s block off in the “toy boxing” version of Rock’em Sock’em Robots.
"Waiting for Game-dot"
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I get that everyone loves Disco Elysium. I saw it on everyone’s year-end lists last year. I finally bought it with an Epic Games Store coupon this year. This year was a long enough slog of depressing post-apocalyptic drudgery, I didn’t want to explore a whole nother one in my leisure time. I’ll get to it… someday.
Game That Made Me Think
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Holovista was an iPhone game I played over the course of two or three days based on the recommendation of some trusted colleagues on Twitter and oh my goodness was I glad that I played it. What starts as a chill vaporwave photography game steadily progresses into an exploration of psychological trauma, relationships with friends and family, and the baggage we carry with us from our pasts. In this exceptionally hard year, I badly needed this story about spending time alone with your personal demons and finding your way back to the people who love and support you. Just like with Journey and Gone Home, I walked away from Holovista feeling a rekindled appreciation for the people in my life.
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black-streak · 4 years
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Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - Routine
Part 3
Hey! I came up with a name for this finally! Might've been listening to Elton John at the time.... Completely self induglent fluff for part 3. Also changed the part title for timinette thing to 'the beginning'. Very original, I know. So I've decided to not have anyone aware of identities here. And Mari also does not use the ladybug in this.
Lastly, from what I gather, Tim canonically seems to swing between sharp, calculating and carefully selective with words aaand a complete disaster child with severe anxiety, weird obsessions, and no filter. So if anyone has any notes on my characterization of him, I'd be happy to hear it.
...Please don't get use to this rapid update schedule, I have no control on the speed in which I write these.
~---~
Marinette meant to make good on her request for a movie with Tim. She really did. She was not some shy little teenager anymore and if she wanted to have a date with the guy she liked, no one could stop her from trying!
Except maybe a spike in her commissions, an Arkham breakout, and three narrowly avoided confrontations with multiple of the bat… people. So maybe she was exhausted and overworked and it had been over two weeks since the morning she woke up on Tim. Maybe at this point she couldn't even concentrate on the date portion and just wanted to skip right into the napping together bit. But who could really blame her? Life is cruel to the sleepless. So perhaps the way they actually ended up dating could be forgiven.
It started on a gloomy Sunday afternoon that Mari found him at a desk in the manor library, pouring over what looked like a criminal case? In a manilla folder? What? Who even uses manilla outside of a filing cabinet anymore? And for what purpose did he need to read it so intently? 
Shaking the confusion off, she refocused on her current mission. Tricking him into taking a nap.
Pushing down a blush, she tapped him on the shoulder.
Startling, he turned partially to look up to her while closing the file, not expecting the interruption.
"Oh, hey! Did um… did you need something?" 
Taking in the dark bags building under his eyes, two empty cups on the desk, and overly comfy clothes, she realized this might be easier than she originally planned for. He looked perfectly nap ready and as over worked as she was. 
Nodding, Marinette took hold of his hoodie sleeve and gave a small tug.
Tim turned further to face her fully, watching for only a moment before seemingly coming to some conclusion.
"Whatever it is will have to wait. You need sleep."
Only she didn't argue, simply nodding again and tugging at his sleeve again, pleading eyes latching onto his.
"Nap?"
Understanding dawned on Tim and lit a small smile across his face as he moved his attention back to the desk, closing up all his work and compiling it to transport.
"Let me gather this up."
A happy sound of approval sounded behind him before lean arms wrapped around his shoulders, a face ducking close to his neck, quietly resting in wait.
Not entirely surprised with the contact, Tim took it in stride, though his mind was whirling with possible causes, attempting to determine whether this was a show of further affection or simply the way she interacted with those she deemed close to her. He'd seen the way Mari leaned into Jason when he ruffled her hair or tossed an arm about her shoulders. The happy cheek kiss she graced Dick in thanks for helping with one thing or another. The way Damian allowed her to pull him around by the hand all the time. Maybe she decided on sleepy cuddles for him? But then, it had sounded like flirting and an offer for more last time. Had he read too much into it or was this the offer come to fruition at last? 
Speaking of which, as he grabbed the last file, she slid one hand over and down his arm to grab at a hoodie sleeve to tug once more, simultaneously shifting away so he could get up.
In a fashion similar to two weeks ago, he paid little mind to her dragging him about until he noticed her aiming for the door, quickly twisting a hand to grab her wrist and redirect them towards the couch in the room. 'Whatever this is, there's no need to advertise it for my brother's to see.'
Meanwhile, Marinette was trying to figure out the best way to get Tim to put his work aside and just cuddle her. Obviously he seemed to be following along now, but if the way he brought over the case file was any indication, he planned to continue working while she slept beside him. 
'Hmm… he followed suit last time, maybe it'll work again this time,' she thought, smile regaining momentum on her face when she saw the library couch went much deeper than the living room one.
He must have read her mind, because he immediately sat sideways, upper back pressed into the arm of the couch, still holding onto her wrist to guide her towards him.
Climbing over, she sandwiched herself between his body and the couch, leaning into his shoulder. He hesitated slightly, then adjusted his left arm behind her and reopened the case in his lap.
"What's with that anyways? Not your usual work there," she murmured.
"Old cold case. Hobby of mine to try and solve them. Or at least find details that were missed in the initial investigation," he intoned smoothly, use to the line of questioning.
"Hmm," she adjusted her legs to lay across his lap, reaching to prop the folder on them as a makeshift desk, "tell me about it?"
"The details are pretty grim, you sure?"
"Mhm, I don't mind. It's like rubber duck coding, right? Maybe if you explain it out loud to someone the missing pieces will pop into place."
And that's how Tim found himself explaining the intricate pattern of a series of connected murders to Marinette, who took the horrific descriptions in stride, sometimes throwing in theories for him to pick apart as he went. Even if it didn't look it with her closed eyes and relaxed disposition, she was obviously actively listening and paying attention to his rapid fire rambling which in turn encouraged him to continue despite his initial hesitance.
Stopping mid sentence, he yanked the file closer with his free hand, the other wrapped around her waist, studying it intently for a moment. 
Letting out a frustrated breath, he murmured in a way indicating her almost forgotten presence, "Really? That's it?" And proceeded to move both arms to hold the pages steady, incidentally shifting Mari fully up onto his chest to accommodate the movement as he wrote across the page, connecting the dots to give a final full picture. Closing the folder up and moving it to the side table, Tim rewrapped his arms around her waist, taking smug satisfaction at successfully transferring her fully into his lap without it seeming to be on purpose.
"You make a good duck."
"Told you it would work, Drake."
"You sound like my brother."
"Hmm, don't call me a duck and I won't call you a drake."
"You're the one who brought up being my metaphorical rubber duck. You only have yourself to blame."
"And your the one who's last name literally means 'male duck', Drake," she deadpanned back to him.
Narrowing his eyes, Tim stared her down. However, Marinette was not one to back down to a challenge and only quipped, "So, still going to call me a duck?"
"I'll concede this round, but you're not cuddling back up to me until you find something else to call me. I'm not trying to hold my brother's clone here."
"Oh? But you are trying to hold your little brother's best friend?" She teased, turning a little pink and marveled at his own flushing face.
"If I remember correctly, you're the one who came in seeking My attention."
Giggling, she squirmed so that one leg was curled over his, torso shifted to in between his side and the couch once more, and tucked into his neck for the second time that day, smile pressing into his skin.
"Not denying it, Mon Cher."
Not expecting agreement nor the endearment, Tim gave a hum in response, not wanting to let on how flustered he felt. Lifting a hand, he hovered it over her head, not sure it'd be welcome, but holding a sigh of relief when she pressed up towards it, as though sensing its proximity and craving the affection it seemed to promise. Which is how he found himself nuzzling the side of her head, hand running down her hair in a soothing pet, listening to the almost purr that reverberated from her into his skin. 
"You cut off earlier. How did the case end?" She spoke, lifting only enough to speak, but close enough that her lips still brushed his neck with every word before lowering back in.
And so Tim told her, giving her the answer before going back and explaining the connection and then finally the less notable details as he sensed her slowly falling into a light slumber listening to the low timber of his voice warm in her ear.
With a small smile, soft and unsure, he settled further against her, pulling her tighter just a moment before allowing himself to drift as well.
…..
Every few days, Mari would seek him out. The same tired, pleading look. The same gentle tugs and soft embraces. Helping him finish whatever he was working on before falling asleep curled up to him, humming with his hands in her hair and warm breath fanning across her skin. Sometimes the side of her head, other times murmuring random details into her ear, and on one notable occasion, down the side of her neck.
Sometimes they wouldn't sleep, just pass jokes and obscure references or talk about her latest project, finding rest and solace in one another without the need for immediate sleep.
And then finally, finally, one of them took a step forward. 
… maybe not the way either of them planned. They'd been running this routine for three weeks straight but now.. It'd been 4 days and Mari had yet to come find him. This did not sit well with Tim, who counted on her to enforce something along the lines of regular sleep for him. Even if it was only in the form of long afternoon naps every couple days. Needless to say, he was grumpy, over caffeinated, and not entirely in his right mind when he sought her out. 
Tim found her eventually, probably in Damian's room based on the bed and katana above the headboard. He hadn't paid attention enough on his mindless search to be 100% sure. Either way, she was there and that's what mattered. Taking a page out of her book, Tim walked over, took ahold of her wrist and tugged her up and towards the door, grip loose enough to slip out if she so desired, only to be stopped by large hand gripping his own wrist. 
That's when Tim decided to actually take in the room fully, surprised to see Damian standing there, scowling with a raised eyebrow, not appreciating the abrupt interruption or kidnapping attempt.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"It's naptime," Tim stated, blinking back with a blank, unfazed expression.
Taken off guard, Damian stared at him, speechless, hand falling back to his side. Tim decided to take advantage of this and made way for the door once more, only to be blocked off once more, tired anxiety and frustration building by the moment.
"That doesn't explain you bursting in here and kidnapping my Angel." Damian stated, arms crossing in defiance, more annoyed at the lack of permission to enter his room than the way Tim sought her out.
"Mine."
"What?" The two younger occupants voiced.
"It's not naptime without Mari. You've been monopolizing her time. Mine now."
Neither of the younger could make heads nor tails of that. One use to Tim cutting off emotions and speaking so directly without consideration, but not the possessiveness being displayed. The other use to the clinginess and sleepless, unthinking words, but not the deadpanned delivery. It was weird to see the two sides mix together into this.
Mari was yanked from her stupor as Tim wrapped his arms around her, chin resting on her head, uncaring of their audience for the moment.
Eyes wide, she turned towards him and tilted to look up and meet his own dead ones.
"Yours?"
Reigning her in again, he rested his cheek in her hair, murmuring, "Mine."
Her and Dami met eyes and a smirk stretched across his face as he realized what this finally met.
"It's on."
"I suppose it is. If you'll excuse us, I think my attention is being demanded elsewhere."
"Oh, you think?"
"Mhm."
With that she allowed Tim to tug her away from the room, surprisingly not questioning the exchange, only to hear more invasive voices from down the hall. Not wanting to deal with the inevitable teasing and questions, he twirled on his heel, bringing her back past Damian and over into his own room. Surprised, but willing, Mari allowed him to lead her into his bed, hands holding her to him as he curled around her petite form, blanket coming up around them.
Finally finding her words, bright red painting her face, she turned in his arms, "Where'd that come from?"
"It's been 4 days. You never take that long."
"Miss me?" She teased, but the effect was ruined by the hope her voice betrayed.
"Terribly," he admitted unflinchingly. Surely, he was going to have an absolute anxiety attack when he woke up, but for now, his thoughts weren't coherent enough to be monitored or analyzed before falling out.
"What took you so long?" He wondered, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Kept getting too busy. You're not the only one who gets sucked into too much to think of sleep." She whispered, settling closer and running her hands over his shoulders in a soothing manner, "I'm sorry to keep you waiting."
" You should be apologizing to yourself. You need our naps as much as I do." 
Humming, she guided her fingers up into his hair, glancing at his lips without thinking, "Do you think we could watch that movie you promised me next time?"
Waking up a little more at the seriousness of the question, even under the pretense of playfulness, he sent her a calculating look.
"I'd like that, ma lutine. Sunday night? We can watch it in my apartment..." He asks, purposefully looking down to her own parted lips before meeting her eyes again.
Silvery blues lit up at the endearment slipping out, moving further up into his space, lining up without touching.
"Yes please," whispers out.
Taking the plea for what it is, Tim slowly cups the back of her head in one hand, the other moving to tilt her chin. It's only for a moment, but he kisses her with such sweet affection, she feels dizzy with it.
He pulls away to her soft, happy humming, sleep creeping into the edges of his mind. Tucking her back under his chin, he falls into slumber with a quiet murmur.
"It's a date then."
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burberryharold · 4 years
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Alone Together
Part One 
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Hello, guys! I’ve finally come around to writing my first fanfic on Tumblr and to say that I’m excited would be an understatement. I’ve had this idea for a while now and I’m hoping you guys like it; Alone Together follows the journey of Ellie and Harry through this rough period of quarantine. It’s just a little something I thought of and decided to have fun with it and make the best out of the current situation, so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! This is gonna be a series but I haven’t settled on how long it’s gonna be yet, but for now here’s Part One of Alone Together.
February 25th, Tuesday
Ellie huffed and wiped her forehead, taking notice of the dark strands of hair clinging onto her face from the sweat. She deeply regretted sending off the moving people, insisting that she can handle the rest of the boxes herself. Big mistake. She was by no means weak or incapable of lifting heavy items, but after a long day of moving back and forth from her old flat to her new one, Ellie was absolutely exhausted. In retrospect, she realised that she should not have moved all of her things in one day, but it’s too late, she has to face the consequences of her decision. Damn me for thinking that this was a good idea, Ellie thought to herself.
Staring at the boxes in the hallway in hopes that they would magically move themselves, Ellie failed to notice that someone walked out of the elevator and was heading in her direction.
“Ellie? Ellie Heart? Is that you?” a deep yet familiar voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
Ellie’s hand flew to her chest as she gasped at the sudden voice, “Bloody hell, you scared the shit out of me!”
She finally opened her eyes to look at the person as he chuckled; her jaw dropped at the familiar sights of chocolate curls and green eyes. “Harry? What? What are you doing here?” she questioned with wide eyes. 
Her heart fluttered at the sight of him; she had not seen Harry in quite a while and was shocked to see him standing outside of her new flat. “Are you stalking me, Styles? Is that what this is?” she jokingly narrowed her eyes at him, resting her hands on her hips.
Harry ‘s bright eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Oh yes, Heart, that’s exactly what I’m doing, you caught me.” He raised his hands in surrender.
Ellie's smile widened at his words and she started taking in his attire. He was sporting a pair of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie with “Treat People With Kindness” printed on it, despite it being an abnormally warm afternoon. She smiled at his choice of outfit and decided to tease him for it, “Nice hoodie you got there, Harry, I see you’re still your usual narcissistic self.”
Harry threw his head back in laughter at her words, “Good to see that you’re still as funny as I remember you, Ellie, it’s been a while.” He flashed her another bright smile and gestured to the boxed discarded along the hallway, “I take it that you’re just moving in?”
Ellie nodded, suddenly remembering that she’s standing in front of him drenched in sweat and looking disheveled, while he managed to look like he just stepped out of a runway, despite his casual outfit. “Just moved literally all of my things here today, which was a huge mistake if I’m being honest, but yeah.” She paused after taking notice of the grocery bags resting beside his feet, “Wait, do you live here as well?”
There were only three flats on this floor, hers, the one right across from her, and another just at the end of the hallway. “This is me, just moved in here recently actually,” Harry pointed at the door beside him, “My house is being fumigated because of bloody termites and I’ve been meaning to do some renovations, so this seemed like an appropriate time. Can’t go back home for a few weeks so.”
A shy smile made its way onto Ellie’s lips, “Guess we’ll be neighbours for the meantime then, huh?”
She marveled at the sight of his dimples, “I’m looking forward to it.”
Ellie tried to ignore the way her heart started pounding faster at the prospect of having Harry so close to her for a few weeks. It’s just a little crush, El, let it go.
Ellie being a huge fan of Harry is no secret to anyone that knows her, not even to Harry himself she fears. Even as a One Direction-obsessed teenager, she’s always paid Harry a little extra attention. When his debut album came out, Ellie was beyond ecstatic. She had known that Harry was a fan of artists like the Rolling Stones and Fleetwood Mac, and she definitely felt their influences on him in music, both in his solo career and in One Direction. So, despite being absolutely devastated that the band is on a hiatus, Ellie can’t deny that she is enjoying their solo careers.
They had originally met back in 2014 when Julian Bunnetta first introduced them to each other. She’d known Julian for about a year, having worked on a number of songs with him. She was no stranger to his close relationship to the band, but she had never expected to ever meet any of the members. Needless to say, Ellie was floored when she saw Julian approaching her, at the party he dragged her to, with the tall, handsome boy beside him.
Julian smirked at her wide eyes, “El, this is Harry, but you already knew that,” he sent her a wink. “H, this is Ellie, the songwriter I’ve been telling you about.”
Had she heard him correctly? Did he just say that he has talked about her to Harry Styles?
Ellie had to pull herself together as the boy smiled in recognition, “Hello, Ellie, it’s good to finally meet you! Been hearing a lot of things about you, this guy won’t stop talking about how insanely talented you are.”
Ellie thinks she’s about to faint.
She’s met a couple of celebrities from working alongside Julian, but she has never been this starstruck before. And the fact that Julian has been praising her songwriting talent in front of Harry does not help ease her erratic heartbeat.
“I- uh- thanks?” She wanted to facepalm. “You too- I mean, um, thank you, I’m such a huge fan of you guys.”
Harry chuckled at her response, “Thank you, Julian may or may not have mentioned that before.”
She narrowed her eyes at Julian, who had an amused expression on his face. “Oh yeah, told him all about your crazy obsession with him.”
“Julian!” Ellie groaned and covered her face with her hands, feeling the warmth rushing to her cheeks, “You bloody knobhead, I hate you.”
“Don’t worry, love” Harry laughed, “he only had good things to say about you, and if anything, I’m flattered.”
Ever since that night, they’ve only ran into each other two other times, which Ellie was disappointed about. Once when she had worked with the band on What A Feeling, and another back in January 2019. Ellie was surprised when her friend Tom Hull called her one night and invited her to the studio, saying that he and a friend of his were struggling with a song and he wanted her help. She hadn’t hesitated and went to meet him the following day at a studio in Malibu. What Tom had failed to mention was that his friend was Harry Styles, who was working on his second album.
Her eyes had noticeably widened when they fell upon the tall figure standing in the corner, talking to someone on the phone. She immediately darted towards her friend and pinched his arm, “You didn’t think to tell me that Harry was here?” she whispered-exclaimed. A wide grin painted Tom’s lips, “Thought I’d surprise you.”
Since then, after spending a whole day helping them with the verse and the bridge on a song called Canyon Moon, Ellie hasn’t seen the rockstar. Until now.
She didn’t even think it was possible for him to look any more beautiful than he already is, but he’s managed to prove her wrong. The light stubble and mustache that graced his face made him look more mature; she remembered how he had once complained about not being able to grow any facial hair, but it seems like that has changed.
Looking that good should be a crime, she thought to herself.
Harry cleared his throat, pulling her out of her thoughts yet again, “D’you need any help with that?”
Ellie was about to shake her head and refuse, but then she bit her lip and paused. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s exhausted, or if she just misses his presence and wants him around her for a little bit longer. She figured it was a combination of both, and that’s why she found herself saying “Actually, yeah, I’d really appreciate that.”
“Hold on a minute,” he pointed to the bags in his hands and gestured to his flat, “gotta put those inside first.”
Ellie was busy hauling a box that held her cutlery and plates into her kitchen when she heard Harry calling out for her. “Love? Where do you want me to put this?”
She tried not to think of the pet name, assuring herself that that’s just who Harry is; he’s always friendly and charming, calling people around him “love” or “sweetheart”, but it makes her heart skip a beat nevertheless.
The box had “Bedroom” messily written on it and so she pointed towards the hallway on her left, “Just down the hallway, first room on the right, please.”
His short curls bounced as he nodded his head and carried the box to her room with ease. She couldn’t help but stare at the way his arms flexed holding the box; he’d changed from his sweatshirt into a fitted black t-shirt, emphasising his muscles.
Ellie silently scolded herself for staring and went back out to the hallway, carrying yet another box. This one, however, was much heavier than the rest. She had packed all of her vases together and now sees how it was a bad idea. God, Ellie, you’re just making dumb decisions left and right, she thought silently.
She groaned as the box weighed her down and struggled to not drop it. “Hey, hey, let me.”
Harry suddenly appeared in front of her, reaching his hands out to take the box. In the process, his hands brushed hers and it took everything in Ellie to not drop the box. She felt like a silly kid, freaking out over touching a boy’s hand, but this was Harry. The same Harry who she admired and has had a crush on for as long as she can remember; she can’t just ignore the feeling of his soft hands against hers.
Get it together, Ellie.
“Thank you,” she flashed him a guilty smile, “careful, that one’s heavy.”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” Harry smirked and held the box as if it was as light as a feather, flexing his arms in the process, “see these guns over here? They can handle anything.”
She stopped herself from staring at his arms yet again and instead rolled her eyes, “Okay then, Superman, go put that in the living room, please.”
Harry let out a laugh and made his way towards her living room, making a show of flexing his arms and looking at her over his shoulders.
Ellie really missed him.
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Once Harry and Ellie had finished moving everything into her flat, she invited him to have a drink and a little chat, to which he delightfully agreed.
After settling comfortably into the couch, with a bottle of beer in his hand, Harry turned his body towards Ellie’s and smiled, “How have you been then? Haven’t seen each other in a long time now, haven’t we?”
Ellie relaxed into her couch and nodded, “Yeah, a little over a year since I last saw you and Tommy at the studio.”
“I’ve worked on a few projects since then,” she took a sip of her drink then shook her head, “no, actually, I have worked on a lot of projects and I’ve decided to just take a break from it all.”
“A break? How come?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “I remember you saying you loved writing all the time, in fact, think you said that you couldn’t go on a day without writing at least a few lines.”
Ellie’s insides almost melted at his soft, slow voice; she’s always loved the way Harry spoke. 
“I did yeah, but everyone needs a little break sometimes,” the corners of her lips turned a little upwards, surprised that he remembered. “I didn’t feel as inspired as I used to be, felt like I was just a machine producing lyrics, so I figured now is a good time to take a break and be free of any pressures.”
Harry held her gaze for a second before nodding his head. “Yeah, I get that,” he said with a soft tone, “sometimes even the thing you love doing the most can get exhausting.”
Ellie breathed out a soft sigh, knowing the meaning behind his words.
“Well, look at you now, you’re the one in complete control, aren’t ya?” she nudged his thigh with her foot that was resting on the couch. He smiled at her words.
“Loved the new album, by the way,” she sat upright, as if she suddenly remembered that he released his second album not too long ago. “Never got to congratulate you on that.”
A bright smile graced Harry’s face. “Really? You did?”
She hummed in affirmation, “How could I not? It’s so fucking good. The lyrics, the melodies, everything. You were amazing, H.”
Ellie didn’t realise what she called him until the words were out of her mouth, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. She was well aware that they were not exactly friends, having met only a few times, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
Harry avoided her gaze and bashfully stared at his lap, “Thank you, means a lot coming from you.”
A blush burned its way to Ellie’s cheeks, wondering what he meant exactly by that, but she didn’t question it.
“Uh,” Harry cleared his throat before continuing, “what’s your favourite song then?” He asked, looking up at her through his dark lashes.
“Oh that is a tough question,” Ellie set her drink down on the coffee table and turned to him, a serious expression etched on her face. “This is gonna take a while.”
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After an intense and thorough explanation of why she can’t simply choose one favourite song off of Fine Line— because, Harry, I love every song too fucking much— Ellie noticed that she’s kept Harry busy for the last two hours.
Ellie started panicking. I wasted so much of his time! What if he didn’t even want to hang out with me?
“Oh God, Harry, I’m so sorry,” she started apologising, feeling her hands getting clammy, “I’ve wasted two hours of your time and you probably had things to do-”
Frowning at her words, Harry abruptly sat up from his previous laid back position on the couch. “’course you didn’t waste my time, love, don’t say that,”
“I didn’t have anything else to do today. Went out to do a shop and I planned to stay in and watch movies, so I’m glad I ran into you.”
Ellie’s shoulders visibly relaxed and a smile made its way onto her lips, “I’m glad I ran into you too, it was nice catching up.”
She had definitely missed the curly-haired boy; she was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that he’s sitting right here on her couch, but she knew he had to go soon.
“It was, and I really hope we don’t spend another year without seeing each other again.”
Warmth coursed through her body. Me too.
Harry‘s mouth opened and closed, seeming as if he had something to say then decided against it. She noticed he was playing around with the rings on his fingers, twisting them around.
“Tell you what,” Harry started, turning his focus towards her again, “how about I give you my number? You know, in case of emergency or anything since we’re neighbours now.”
Ellie mentally cursed her genes as she could feel herself blushing again, for absolutely no reason. She’s always been the type of person to get flustered and blush at everything, just like her father. Be cool, Ellie, or he’s gonna think you’re weird.
She merely nodded her head in response and mechanically handed him her phone. Harry chuckled at her and grabbed the small device. He put in his number and gave her the device back, having put his contact name as “H. Styles”
“Just text me so I know it’s you, yeah?” he rose from the couch, stretching his muscles from sitting for too long. Ellie stood up too and walked him to the door, watching as he made his way into his own flat across the hall.
After unlocking his door, Harry turned back to face her. “Have a good night, yeah? Don’t hesitate to call or text me if you need any help, okay?”
Ellie wanted to take a picture of him right then and there. The dim lights in the hallway cast a soft glow on his face, making his features look even more ethereal and soft.
“You too,” She pulled a few strands of her hair behind her ear and leaned her body against her door frame. “And thank you, that’s very sweet of you.”
He flashed her another smile and put up his hand in a small wave, the both of them backing up into their own flats and ready to close the door.
Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting or if Harry was really blushing, but she likes to think that it was the latter.
Once she made it back into her living room, she picked up her phone and typed in a new message.
“Hey, it’s me, your weird neighbour across the hall :)”
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And that’s all for part one guys! What do you think about it? This part is short because I’m just introducing the story and our main character Miss Ellie Heart, but the next ones are gonna be longer so brace yourselves.  I’m so glad to finally get back to writing! Everyone is quarantined at home because of COVID-19 and I have more time on my hands now to write. Let me know what you think about this and if you’d like to read the next part, I’d really love to know what you guys think!
Remember, stay home and stay safe xx
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fayzart136 · 4 years
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Shaperatown
Hey, remember when I made that Hadestown AU?
Well... I made a fic for it. It turned out longer than expected (8.6K words) but I’m very happy with it. Any feedback is much appreciated!
ROAD TO HELL
The kiosk had long since been abandoned. It wasn’t like there was any food left on the shelves, anyway. All of it had been taken by the hungry people of the town. The only movement on the train station were a few newspapers littering the ground, seeming to shiver in the cold wind.   
Michael wasn’t surprised by the deserted station; this winter had been particularly harsh. Everyone would rather stay inside and huddle by the fire than sit on a freezing platform. Being a vagrant, he didn’t exactly have that luxury. Besides, someone had to be here when she arrived. He tried to light a cigarette, not an easy task with his prosthetic arm. As he was struggling, he noticed another person.   “Oh, hi there, stranger. Fancy seein’ you here. Don’t mind me, I’m just waiting on someone.” The sign above the platform only had one train scheduled: Shaperatown. It didn’t say at what time it would arrive. Michael noticed the person looking. “Yeah, it never shows when. But it’ll come when it’s time. Prob’ly at the end.” At the end? The stranger wondered. “The end of my story, ‘course. Seems like a fine time for a train to show up. If you like, I can tell you. It’s always better to tell stories when someone’s actually listenin’.” The person sat down next to Michael, and he smiled.   “Thanks, stranger. I have to warn you though.” His smile faded. “It’s a sad tale. One might even call it a tragedy. But even sad tales deserve to be told, don’tcha think?” He chuckled. “Hell, maybe it’ll turn out this time.” He turned toward the stranger.   “So, what’dya say? I can’t promise I’ll even finish the tale, and it might take me a long time. But are you ready to hear an old song again?” The stranger nodded.   “Good. Now, it all started when this new guy came into town...”  
COME HOME WITH ME  
“Hey, who is that guy?” Michael glanced over to where Raven was looking. A blonde man had just entered the diner and was sitting a few tables away from them.   “Oh, him? I dunno, he’s new. I think his name was Louie, Leo, something like that.” Raven studied the stranger. Despite his tall frame, he still got lost in his big overcoat. His clothes were covered in mud from the road and heavily worn. His bags were right next to him, with what seemed like all his belongings. He looked like a man who didn’t intend to stay very long.   “I’m gonna go talk to him.” Raven decided out loud. He got up, but Michael grabbed his shoulder before he went.   “Look, Raven...Don’t come on too strong, okay?” Raven scoffed. “Please, Michael, you know I’m the master of the soft sell.” Michael didn’t look like he believed him one bit. Nonetheless, Raven strolled up to the table the man was sitting at.  
“Come home with me.” Lloyd looked up at him.   “I’m sorry, what?”   “I said, come home with me.” Raven flashed his brightest smile. The man blinked rapidly and frowned.   “I- Do I know you?”   “Not yet, but you will.” He removed the guitar that was strapped to his back. “The name’s Raven. I wrote you a song, wanna hear it? It’s mostly a medley, but there’s stuff of my own in there, as well.” The man seemed to still be reeling a bit, but most of the confusion on his face had been replaced by a sort of amusement.   “I see. You play, then?”   “Yeah, I’m also in this theatre troupe, and we’re thinking of expanding to a circus-” The man laughed. “Oh, a drama queen and a clown, as well!”   Michael couldn’t bear to see this anymore and piped in from his table. “You should really listen to the medley, though. It’s pretty out there, but the guy’s got talent.” Lloyd looked over at Michael, then back at Raven standing ready and eager with his guitar. He sighed but couldn’t help smiling a bit.   “I mean, sure. Why not.” That’s all the encouragement Raven needed, and he started singing.  
When the medley was over, Raven was a bit short of breath. He always got really ‘into’ his performance, and this time, he gave it his all. Lloyd was staring at him, brows raised.   “Well. That was certainty the most... unorthodox seduction I’ve ever enjoyed.” Raven grinned.   “But you enjoyed it, though?” And sure enough, Lloyd had been oddly charmed by the performance. There was a passion there, a kind of chaos and sincerity that really spoke to him. He tried to act nonchalant and shrugged.   “I mean, I definitely didn’t hate it. I’m curious to see your theatre troupe, now.”   “Great! You’re gonna love it. It’s a bit chaotic, mostly because we don’t have a stage manager yet, but you should totally come to rehearsal.” Lloyd considered that for a moment. He glanced at the road through the dirty windows of the diner. There were worse towns to rest in. Surely, he could stop for just a moment. If the winds changed, he could just pack his bags and go, anyway. He looked back at the strange man, who was staring right back at him excitedly. No harm in taking in the scenery, as it were.   “Say... Raven, was it? You’re in luck, because I just so happen to know a stage manager. And he would love to go with you.”  
WAY DOWN HADESTOWN  
Michael winced as the distant, but sharp call of the train cut through his hangover. Groggily, he dragged himself into a sitting position. Around him, other partygoers slowly woke up, as well.   “Sounds like your ride is here, Fay.” The woman, who had been sleeping it off on the couch, groaned in frustration.   “Oh, come on! That was not six months!” Begrudgingly, she got up and straightened her dress. “Someone teach that man to read a bloody calendar,” she mumbled. Michael got up as well.   “I’m sorry, but I guess it’s time to go.” Fay huffed and grabbed the nearest bottle. “I’ll go pack my bags.”  
Everyone had come to wave Fay goodbye. Michael, Lloyd and Raven stood a bit apart from the rest. The Floozies were there as well. But then again, they were always kind of always there. No one knew where they had come from, or how many of them there actually were. They all had to exact same cotton candy hair, and it was impossible to tell them apart. Either they could move between locations very quickly, or there were more than anyone could count. However many there were, they were always seen in groups of three. Raven got along with them pretty well.   “I don’t get it,” Lloyd confessed. “Why does everyone say Shaperatown is such a terrible place? I understand why Fay doesn’t want to go back, but everyone here acts like that place is Hell itself.”   “You’re not that far off, actually.” Michael said, “You’re new, so it’s not weird you don’t know.” He lowered his voice.    “Y'see, down there, the dead are put to work. They get desperate folks, make ‘em sign this contract. An’ when ya do, they shove your soul in this mannequin thing. Unable to talk or rest, they make the perfect workers. There are thousands of dolls there, just slavin’ away for Mr. McAlister. No-one who goes to work there, ever returns.”   Lloyd looked down the track, as though he would be able to see the city from there.   “You’re saying they got jobs there?” Raven looked at his boyfriend in shock.   “That was not the part to take away from this story, Lloyd!”   “Yes, I know, I know. I was just surprised this McAlister fellow is able to provide so many jobs. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the economy isn’t doing great at the moment.”   “Oh, not over there.” One of the Floozies piped in. “A little bird told me the economy is running smooth as ever!”   “Yeah!” The second one added. “All the money comes from there.”   “Quite literally,” The third one finished. “What, with all the mines and all.”   “What’s that matter?” Raven asked incredulously. “Who cares about the economy when you’re dead?” He grimaced. “I’d eat pig crap on crackers before I consider working there. Who in their right mind would trade feeling the sunshine for some spare change?” Michael nodded. “Tell me ‘bout it.” He held out his prosthetic arm. “I’ve got one wood part, and that’s a-plenty, lemme tell ya.” His expression turned to horror. “God, can you imagine full-body phantom pains?” He shuddered. Lloyd stayed quiet.   All conversation died down as the train arrived. For a moment, the whole station was covered in thick smoke, making everyone cough. When they could see again, the only carriage opened, and a man stepped out. It was the man they’d been talking about: Edgar McAlister. A short man dressed in a fine suit and top hat. His curly hair was graying, but you could still see a bit of the carrot color. Fay walked up to him. “You’re early.” She snapped.   McAlister’s neutral expression didn’t change. “I missed you.”   As the couple got into the carriage, the Floozies whispered in Lloyd’s ear.   “Didya see his suit?” One said.   “Wanna bet he never goes hungry?” The other added.   “Seems like he owns everything.” They all said in unison.   “Kind of makes you wonder how it feels.” Lloyd marveled.
CHANT I
Fay had almost forgotten how polluted the city was. Even inside, the smog seemed to carry more dust than oxygen. The air was heavy and hot, and the noise and light gave her a headache, after not even an hour being back. She threw her coat on the couch. “God, this place is getting worse every year.”   “Oh, I apologize,” Edgar said calmly. “Let me just turn off the factory. I’ll go let everyone starve, because Fay dearest is uncomforable.” The tension between them hang in the air. Fay knew where this conversation would lead. She took another drink to prepare herself. Edgar crossed his arms and nodded to the factories outside. “I’m doing this to provide for you, you know.”   Fay scoffed. “I don’t remember asking you to.” Edgar raised his eyebrow. His voice stayed icy, only frustrating Fay more. “I am pretty sure you agreed to this. I seem to recall vows of some sort.”  And so, the argument began in earnest. “Oh, you mean the vows you forced me to make?” “I didn’t force you to do anything. It wasn’t like I dragged you down the aisle.” Fay felt the urge rise to punch something, preferably her husband’s face. “Besides,” He continued smugly, “I now am the most succesful man in town. You no longer have reason to leave.” Fay couldn’t believe her ears.   “Do you still think that was the bleeding problem? I left you,” Fay spat. “because we didn’t work.”   “I made it work!” Edgar countered. “I put in the effort to win you back over. I built all this,” He gestured around. “All to win your heart! Shouldn’t you at least be grateful I’m doing all this for you?” Fay leaned forward. She was a head taller than her husband, and she looked down with curled lip. “I feel nothing for you."” She whispered. “I loved you once. But now, I feel nothing but loathing, disgust and hate.” That shut him up for a moment. He swallowed.   "Very well.” He said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have just decided the workload for the dolls should double.” As he walked away, he called back over his shoulder. “I’m sure your father will be pleased about that.” He slammed the door on his way out. Fay wasn’t surprised. This was how it went every year. She felt a pang of guilt for her father receiving the consequenes of her failing marriage. Another swing from the bottle helped ease it a bit.  
CHANT I / SONGBIRD
“You said you could provide for me!”   “You’re acting like it’s my fault the storm is here!”   “No, “Lloyd spat. “But it is your fault I am!” He walked toward the door. “Wait. Wait, Lloyd, where are you going?”   “Out!” He called. His hand was already on the door handle, when Raven grabbed his arm. “Wait, Lloyd! Don’t go!”  Lloyd tried to shake him off. “Don’t be so dramatic. I just need to clear my head, I’m coming back.” “Are you?” The genuine worry in his boyfriend’s voice made him turn around, hand still on the door handle. “Yes, of course I will. Like I said, I just need time to think. Will you please let go of my arm?” Raven didn’t let go, his jaw stubbornly set.   “Ravey, what’s the matter with you? You aren’t usually this paranoid.” “I have a bad feeling.” He confessed. “I don’t want you to leave during a fight.” Lloyd sighed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but there’s nothing to worry about. I won’t hit the road. Right now, I’m just angry and I need to calm down.” He pried Raven’s hand from his arm.   “I’ll be back. I promise.” Raven didn’t respond. Lloyd was right, this wasn’t like him. But as his boyfriend went through the door, he couldn’t help the anxious feeling in his gut.
Lloyd sat by the side of the road and took a deep breath. The cold wind cut his lungs, but the bite refreshed his flushed face a bit. Raven and he had been having more and more fights, lately. Almost all of them were about money. Raven was so caught up in his music, he didn’t seem to notice all the firewood and food had dwindled and vanished. He thought he could do what he had been doing every winter, not realizing there now were two mouths to feed. And as pretty as his songs were, they weren’t able to shelter Lloyd from the wind. He groaned and covered his face in his hands. He should’ve left when he had the chance. He had always gone wherever the wind blew him, never growing attached. But in spite of himself, he had caught feelings for Raven, and now he’d gotten himself stuck. As he was moping, he heard a cheery voice.   “Hey there buddy, you’re looking down. Say, you’re Lloyd Allen, aren’t you?” He looked up to see a man in a snazzy suit looking down at him. His smile was dazzling. “You were stage manager for that Neverland play, right? That was a fine piece of work, there. Can’t have been easy to keep everything on track.” Lloyd scoffed softly at the memory. “It was like herding cats.” He confessed. The man nodded. “I bet it was. I mean, the actors were fine and all, but everyone knows the real work happens backstage.” “Exactly!” Lloyd agreed. The man sat down next to him.   “Well look here, I’ll level with ya. It’s a damn shame to see a guy with your potential merely managing plays. We think you gotta lot of potential.” “Who’s ‘we’”?  Lloyd asked. The man waved faux-casually. “Oh, just some fellas over in the city. That’s right, I’m from McAlister Inc., and I’m here to help. I’ve got a proposition for ya. How’d you feel about a proper job?” Lloyd frowned. “In Shaperatown? No thank you, I’d like to keep living a while longer.” The man shrugged. “Well, it’s hardly dying if you get better, right? Besides, you’ll basically become immortal. Seems like a pretty good tradeoff to me.” Lloyd thought about it. “Well, when you put it like that... I’ve heard some things about the work conditions, though. They tell me everyone’s miserable there.” The man looked like he had said something ridiculous. “How can you be miserable when you’re never hungry or tired? Those doll bodies don’t need anything, except the spare part every now and then. Immortality, never a care in the world, and a stable job?” He jabbed Lloyd playfully in the shoulder. “Really, you’re the one who’s cheating me.” Lloyd tried to think of what Michael and Raven had told him about Shaperatown. Was there something he was missing? Surely, if the man was telling the truth, it couldn’t be as bad as they made it out to be. Definitely not so bad as to dismiss it out of hand. He got up. “Thank you for the offer. I’ll go talk it over with my boyfriend, and I’ll get back to you.”   The man looked incredulously, still with that smile on his face. After a few seconds, he laughed out loud. “Oh, that’s a good one. ‘I’ll get back to you’, you’re a riot!” Still chuckling a bit, he got up as well.   “I don’t think you really get what’s goin’ on, son. Y’see, I’m a busy man, I can’t stay long. I got clients to call, orders to fill. Now, like I said, ya got potential, but if I walk into town, people will practically fling themselves at me for the opportunity to work. For you ten others, you know what I’m saying? It’s now or never.”   “I have to choose right now?” Lloyd asked. “That’s the idea.” The man’s smile dropped. “Although I don’t think it’s much of a choice. Look all around you.” He waved at the barren lands. “It’s not like you’ve got anything to lose. So what’ll it be? Would you like to work? Or would you rather starve to death? The choice is yours, if you’re willing to choose.”
Lloyd was stunned. After a brief consideration, he shook his head. “I can’t leave.” He said. “It wouldn’t be fair.” “Life ain’t fair, baby.” Floozie said. Lloyd hadn’t seen her approach, and he startled a bit.   “Yeah,” The second one said. “You gotta do what’cha gotta do.” “No, I couldn’t.” Lloyd protested. “I promised Raven I wouldn’t leave.” “Oh,” The third one said. “Jus’ like Raven-baby promised to provide for you? How’d that turn out?” Lloyd didn’t have a good response to that.   “I shouldn’t. It would break his heart.” He said, but he already sounded less argumentative. “So what?” All three Floozies said in unison. “Everyone must deal with heartbreak eventually. If it isn’t from you, it’ll be from someone else.” “Besides,” one continued, “The man is right, y’know? You’ll just go hungry if ya stay.” “And what good would that do?” The others added. “No use in you both starving, right?” Lloyd’s heart ached. He knew he shouldn’t. Ever since he met Raven, he told himself he was above such selfishness. He didn’t have to only hold his own anymore. But the gnawing in his stomach was persistent and wouldn’t be ignored. He turned toward his house one last time, almost hoping Raven had followed him and would stop him. But he was alone. He turned back to the man in the suit. “Alright. I’m going.”
WAIT FOR ME
After Lloyd disappeared, everyone held their breath for Raven. They all expected him to completely fall apart. However, at first glance, he seemed to be doing okay. He still went to rehearsals and kept writing his songs. In fact, he started working even harder, fully throwing himself into the theatre. And sure, he drank a bit more at afterparties, and his laugh had a bit more of an edge than usual, but he assured everyone he was fine. Lloyd had needed some time for himself, he said. It had been a couple weeks, but he would be back any minute. There was nothing to worry about. But Michael knew him. The cheery façade Raven threw up couldn’t fool him. He went to check on him.  
“Hey, Raven? You home?” The smell hit him as soon as he stepped through the door. The stench of stale beer, as well as stronger stuff, mixed with that of unwashed dishes and dust. Michael carefully stepped around the empty bottles and strewn-across laundry. He heard Raven call from the bedroom.   “Go away! I’m not home.” He sounded like he had been crying. Slowly, Michael opened the door. Inside the bedroom was an even bigger mess. There wasn’t an inch of the floor that wasn’t covered by trash of some sort. Raven lay on the unmade bed, still clutching a bottle of scotch. He shielded his eyes from the faint light as Michael stepped in. “Hey man.” He said, softly. “How you doin’?”   “How the fuck does it look like I’m doing? Go away.” He took another swig from the bottle. Michael walked over and tried to gently remove it from his hand. “A’ight, I think you had enough.” “Yeah, you would know.” Raven snapped.   Michael stayed calm. “I do.” Raven opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and groaned. He threw his arm over his face. “I’m sorry Michael, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, it’s just-” “Don’t even worry about it man, it’s fine.” As Michael sat the bottle on the nightstand, he noticed a strong scent. His nose crinkled.   “Hey, uh... D’ya know what might make you feel better?” He offered. “How ‘bout a nice shower to freshen up, huh?” Raven chuckled dryly, still covering his face. “Way to bring it up tactfully. But no.” He paused. “What’s the point?” “Of showers?” Michael asked. “You know damn well that isn’t what I meant.” Michael went silent. He sat down on the edge of the bed, not really knowing what to say. “C’mon,” he said gently, touching Raven on his shoulder. “Let’s get some food into you. We need to talk.”
A slightly more presentable Raven sat across him at the kitchen table. The man looked like hell. His dreads were a tangled mess and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Clutching his bowl of soup and with a blanket thrown around his shoulder, he looked completely unlike the flamboyant showman he was. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” He said sheepishly.   Michael waved. “Like I said, don’t worry ‘bout it. You’d do the same for me.” Raven smiled. “So, what did you want to talk about?” Michael paused, taking some time to pick his words. “I know you’ve been pretty torn up after Lloyd left.” Raven snorted. “Well, what gave you that crazy idea.” Despite the jest, his voice cracked slightly with the threat of tears. He cleared his throat.   “Yeah,” Michael said deadpan. “I dunno how I could think sucha thing.” “It’s just-” Raven gripped his bowl a bit tighter. “He promised he’d be back. He didn’t say when, but it’s been months! What if something happened to him? What if...” His jaw tightened with emotion. “What if he isn’t coming back?” Michael rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, uh, it’s about that I wanted to talk to ya, actually. I didn’t wanna tell you before, because I was ‘fraid you’d get depressed. But, well...” He gestured vaguely around. “I can’t get worse than this.” Raven finished. “Yeah, pretty much.” Michael said bluntly. “So, I got good news and bad news. The good news is: I know where Lloyd went.” Raven’s sprung up. Immediately, the spark returned to his eyes.   “You do?! Where is he?”   “Y’see, that’s the bad news: you’re really not going to like it.” Raven sat down his bowl and leaned over the table. “Tell me. Where is he?”   “Well, you have to promise you’ll not do anything stupid, okay-?” "Michael! Where. Is. He?”   Michael sighed. “He’s in Shaperatown. I saw him boarding the train.” Raven looked at him in shock. “...Shaperatown? Are you serious?”   “Yeah.” he said. “There was this other guy with him. I think he got recruited. I’m sorry, Raven.” “What are you sorry for?” Raven asked. “This is great news!” Michael squinted. “...Is it?” “Yes! Don’t you get it?” Raven threw the blanket off his shoulders and got up. “It means he didn’t mean to leave! He must’ve gotten tricked or something. What’s more, it means I can get him back!” Michael got up as well. “Now, hold on a minute. How in hell are ya gonna do that?”   “I don’t know yet, I’ll see when I get there.” Raven threw on his coat and guitar and headed for the door. Michael jumped between them. “Woah, where do ya think you’re goin’?” “Shaperatown. I have to save him, move outta my way!” Raven tried to get past him, but Michael grabbed his shoulders. “Just think. How do you plan to get there?”   Raven shrugged. “I don’t know, by train?” “You got a ticket?”   He paused. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll just follow the tracks!” Michael laughed. “Right, yeah. You’ll never make it. It’s a long way down, and you don’t have a chance, ‘less you know the way.” “It’s literally one direction!” Raven protested. “But do you know where you can rest safely? Do you know where the dogs patrol, and where you might find a bite to eat?”   Raven looked down, frowning. “No.” He looked back up. “But you do, right? You’re a vagrant, you must’ve walked that track a thousand times.” Michael stammered: “I- Well, yeah. But I ain’t really supposed to say...” “Michael, please. I have to follow Lloyd. He’s the only man I ever truly loved.” Raven stared at him with such intensity, Michael couldn’t help but relent with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll teach ya how to get to Shaperatown. But don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
And so, Michael taught Raven how to read the hobo marks, written in chalk on the trees and fences all along the track. He taught him to walk under cover of night, and where he could rest out of sight during the day. He also gave him a small radio, so they could communicate if necessary. Raven hugged him and set out.  It took him most of the winter to reach his destination. He nearly got himself killed multiple times, by hunger or snow or resting in the wrong place. But he never gave up. Hope burned like fire inside him, and it kept him warm through the storm.   Wait for me, he thought. Just be there when I get there. I’m coming. Finally, the wall of the city appeared on the horizon. But his journey wasn’t over yet. He had to find a way in. The gates were guarded by vicious Blood Red Dogs, and Raven didn’t have nearly enough funds to bribe them. So, he snuck around, searching for a spot he might get in. It wasn’t that hard; the wall was constantly upgraded and maintained by the workers of the city. He had to crane his neck to see them, but Raven found them working on southern part. He felt a chill. Even without faces, the dolls looked miserable. Their bodies were falling apart from use, the wood cracked and paint chipped. As they carried the heavy stones, they dragged their feet and kept their head low.  
Now, Raven was a poor boy. But he had a gift to give. He could make you see the way the world could be, in spite of the way that it is. You might say he was ‘touched’. He removed the guitar from his back and started singing. He sang about his lost love, the long road behind him, and the fire inside him. There were two ways this could go: either the dolls would be moved by the song, or he would be screwed. But he believed with all his heart and soul this would work. The dolls looked up and turned to him. They should have alerted the guards. They should have continued their work. But instead, they listened. Having been trapped in the city for ages, the song stirred a part of them that had nearly been extinguished.   When Raven finished, one of them accidentally dropped a rope down the wall. At least, that what it would have said, if asked. All the others meant to pick it back up, but they forgot. They each were so occupied with their duties, they failed to notice the singer climb the wall, thank them, and enter the city. At least, that’s what they would’ve told you.
Droves of dolls filled the city in streets, slums and homes. If they weren’t working a shift, they just stared blankly ahead. Raven mumbled an apology as he stepped around them. Then, his radio picked up a very faint signal. His heart stopped as he recognized the voice, even through the static. “...Flowers. I think I remember flowers.”  
LADY OF THE UNDERGROUND
Lloyd stepped inside the dimly lit hole-in-the-wall speakeasy. The Mannekin had been rather difficult to locate, but it was filled with costumers. Workers lay strewn around the room like ragdolls, some hanging in chairs, others lying on the floor. Expressions were impossible to tell on the blank faces, but they seemed more dazed than usual. Some were using some strange red dust to dull the mind, others held magnets to their head. Lloyd held a strange appreciation for their inguinity, at least.
The owner of the bar wasn’t too hard to find. Even if he hadn’t been the only alive person in the room, his red hair and alternative clothes made him a person hard to miss. He sat lounging, arm thrown around a very old looking doll.   “Byron McAlister?” The boy looked up in suprise. “The one and only.”   “My name is Lloyd Allen. Could I have a word with you?” The boy looked him up and down, a surprised smile on his face. “Wow,” he marveled. “you talk really well for a doll.” It took a second for Lloyd to really grasp the comment. When he did, he crossed his arms. “I’m- is that supposed to be a compliment?” Byron laughed. “Okay, yeah, I hear how that sounded now. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s, usually, by the time people find this place, they’re already having trouble moving and speaking and stuff. I mean, take my dearest Jasper, for example.” He gestured toward the doll next to him. “Poor thing hasn’t spoken in all the time I know him. So, congrats, you must have very strong willpower. Or a remarkable memory.” Lloyd didn’t really understand what he was saying, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Before he could ask, the boy shrugged.   “Anyway, whatever the case, you’re here now. So, pick your poison and enjoy.” Lloyd shook his head. “No, I’m not looking to get high. Listen, I’m a friend of your mother’s. I need you to get me in contact with her, or with McAlister. I’ve m- There’s been a mistake.” Byron chuckled. “Ah, regretting your career choices, huh?” Lloyd shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t regret anything. That is a futile excercise. I had a logical reason to do what I did, and I just need to make sure it doesn’t happen again. And to do that, I need to get back. Can you talk to your parents for me?” Byron took a sip of his drink and held up a finger. “Okay, first of all: mighty bold of you to assume either of my parents care about what I have to say. Even if they did,” He sat down his glass. “Father tends to get a bit.... possessive. Trust me on that.” “So, what?” Lloyd asked. “You’re not even going to help?” “I am helping.” Byron countered. “I am giving these people the moon and stars back. It’s the only way they can flee Father’s world. He would kill me if he found out about this place. So if you’re not going to enjoy the wares, I’d enjoy your memories as long as they last.” Lloyd’s radio crackled with an angry tirade, but he decided it wasn’t worth it. He stormed back outside.
FLOWERS
Now, Lloyd wasn’t going to take this sitting down. So, his job was... disappointing. He might have made a bit of a mistake. And that Byron brat had been no help either. No matter. He could get out himself. He wasn’t going to be like all the others, moping around all day. What good would that do? No, Lloyd decided he was going to devise a plan. Surely all these depressing morons still had some fight in them. He just had to ignite it. Reel them in with entertainment of some sort, and then slowly introduce the idea of revolution. There were so many of them; if he riled them up, they could get out of here. Or at least some of them could. Or at the very least, they could create a distraction while Lloyd escaped. Either scenario worked for him.   So he sat out to work at the factory. Every shift, he would steal some parts. Nothing big, a bolt here, a wire there. Nothing anyone would miss. The one good thing about being trapped in this body was that he didn’t have to sleep. He could tinker and build all night long.  After many nights staying up in his dingy sleeping quarters, he finally managed to build a semi-functional radio station. All those dolls had radios attached. Surely some of them were still functioning enough to pick up his signal. He brushed some leftover bolts from his desk chair and sat down. He felt the urge to take a deep breath, but due to a lack of lungs, that wasn’t possible. He decided to just jump into it.
“Hello, dear listeners! My name is Lloyd, and welcome to the Shaperatown Radio Hour! I’m here to lift your spirits, because boy, do they need it. Today, I’ll be telling the thrilling tale of-”
“Welcome back, dear listeners! I tried talking to some of you the other day. Well, it’s possible I talked to one doll multiple times. I have a hard time telling you apart.  Anyway, it seems at least one of you is unresponsive as ever. No matter! I can talk to you through this, and I think... No, I know that it works! So, onto part five of-”
“Uhm, hello, dear listeners. Sorry if I sound a bit down, it’s just.... I’ve been forgetting things, and I don’t like it. I don’t know if it’s this body, or this place, or the fact the only voice I’ve heard in weeks is my own, but... I didn’t remember how I met Raven. I’ve told you about Raven, right? The only man I ever truly loved. And I forgot how we met. B-But I won’t let that get me down! I have written down everything I remember about... Uhm...” A rustling of paper can be heard. “Raven! Yes, right, that was his name. Raven. See? I can fight it. I won’t become a mindless drone like the rest of you. So, with that tangent out of the way, let us continue with part-”
“Is anybody listening? Are any of your godforsaken bodies whole enough to pick this up? This stupid shell is getting more and more difficult to move, and it’s harder to talk. That moronic Byron said something about willpower or memory... I must get out of here, as soon as possible. I-” The voice is overlapped with static. “I don’t want to forget.”
A rustling of paper can be heard. “Uh, let’s see. Raven! Right, of course. Like the bird. Both boyfriend and bird start with a b. Should be easy to remember. My boyfriend’s name is Raven. My boyfriend’s name is Raven. My boyfriend...uhm.” A rustling of paper can be heard. “Raven, that was it! Raven. Raven. My boyfriend’s name is... Damnit.” A rustling of paper can be heard.
The static almost drowns out the soft voice. “I have given up trying to remember. My notes read like the story of someone else. Even still, as soon as I finish a word, I forget what it said. It’s no use.” There’s a solid minute of dead air. “...I’m so tired. I can drag myself to the assembly line and work, but any other movement feels like operating a marionette made of concrete. Talking is...” More silence. It lasts a lot longer this time.   “Flowers... I think remember flowers. There was a field of them. They were purple, the favorite of... someone.” The static recedes for a moment. “I had a ‘someone’, didn’t I? Well then, ‘someone’, if you’re hearing this... I’m sorry.” The voice becomes more distorted and wavering. “I am so sorry. I never should have left you.” There seem some more attempts at talking, but they’re too heavily distorted and overlapped by interference to make out. Finally, even those attempts stop.
COME HOME WITH ME II
Raven burst into the room. He had run all across the city, following where the broadcast was clearest. It had led him to this room. He looked around, but he only saw another broken down doll, sitting in front of a pile of junk.   “Where is he?” He yelled, more to himself than to the doll. Even if it knew where Lloyd was, it wouldn’t be able to tell him. He frantically opened the closet door, as though Lloyd would be hiding in there. “Lloyd? I came for you, where are you?” “Ravey?” The staticky voice made Raven gasp and spin around. He scanned the room, but still saw nothing. The doll had turned to face him. It seemed to be shaking. “Ravey, it’s me.” Raven’s heart dropped. “...Lloyd?” The doll nodded. Tears sprung in his eyes and his throat closed up with emotion. “Lloyd!”   He sprinted across the room, throwing himself into his boyfriend’s arms. Weeping, he held him close, like he would disappear again if he let go. The wood bruised his arms, but he didn’t care. He tried to talk, but he couldn’t get anything past his choking sobs. Lloyd hugged him back. “It’s okay, Raven... I’m sorry. I tried so hard.” His own voice trembled as he hugged him closer. “I tried so hard. I’m so sorry.” The two men sat there, holding the other tight. Even as Raven’s tears dried up and his hiccups slowly died down, they didn’t break their embrace.   “How did you get here?” Lloyd asked. “On the train?” Raven smiled. “Nah, I walked.” He felt the wood under him shift as Lloyd reeled in suprise. “You walked?”   “Sorry it took so long.” Even after all that happened, Lloyd’s adorable confused stammers had stayed the same.   “I- wha- How in the world did you get over the wall?”   “I sang. It convinced the dolls to let me in. And I could sing us home again.” He untangled himself from Lloyd and looked to where his eyes should be on his blank wooden face. “Come home with me.” He said. “I won’t let them take you away from me again.” “Take me away?” Lloyd asked.  
An unfamiliar voice spoke up. “I don’t believe we’ve met, young man.” Raven turned around to see Edgar McAlister, ruler of Shaperatown, step into the room. Three Blood Red Dogs stood menacingly in the doorway. McAlister said coldy: “Look, I don’t know who you are, or why you would think you can just waltz in here without anyone noticing. You must be quite emptyheaded. But I advice you leave now, before things get..” He glanced back at the Dogs. “...ugly.”
Raven stood up, standing protectively in front of Lloyd.   “No. We’re leaving, and you can’t stop us!” McAlister laughed. “How very noble.  I don’t suppose your boyfriend told you how he came to be in my employ?” “I don’t care how you tricked him!”   “Tricked?” McAlister raised his eyebrows. “I did no such thing. He understood the terms. I offered him an opportunity, and he left of his own accord.” Raven looked back at Lloyd. He wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “Lloyd?” He managed to ask. “That’s not true, is it? Tell me he’s lying.” There was no repsonse. “...Lloyd. Tell me it’s not true.” Edgar laughed wryly. “Oh, take this lesson from an old man: unless you can prove your love with gold, you’ll never keep your lovers close.  They get you high, they get you low, and then they leave. I learned that the hard way, and now you will, too. He belongs to me. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”  
CHANT II
Now, everybody knows the walls have ears. And this is especially the case when the conversation happens in front of a radio station that nobody bothered to turn off. Jasper hadn’t broadcasted anything in decades. He had been one of the first dolls built, and had long found any attempt at communication to be futile. But Byron still kept his radio in perfect condition, in the hope he might one day speak to him. And so, he had been able to receive the Shaperatown Radio Hour. At first, it had just been another channel, a small part of his mindless backgrond noise. But when he heard the confrontation between Raven, Lloyd and Edgar, the numbness inside subsided a little. He had been a dolly, a worker, an accessory for so long, he had ceased to think of himself as a person. But Raven loved Lloyd. Despite everything, they still had hope, however faint, that they could escape this hell. Jasper found himself repeating Raven’s question in his mind: is it true?   At his first attempt, Jasper only broadcasted feedback and static, his radio unaccustomed to use. Still, his grandson’s eyes lit up with disbelieve.   “Jasper? Was that you?” Jasper took the words he heard from the broadcast, and tried to communicate. His new song rang through the Mannekin, getting clearer with each word.   “Is it true?” He asked. “Are we mindless drones, forgetting ourself? Is there nothing we can do?  I believe: no! We keep our head low in his employ, but  I believe he’s lying. I believe we can look up!  If they can do it, so can we. I know we have the willpower, and we can tell him what we think!” One by one, the dolls around him echoed his refrain. First, the speakeasy, then the street, then the neighbourhood, and soon the enitre city was chanting along. One by one, the dolls found the will to move, and with Byron cheerfully leading in front, they formed a march. Even Fay joined in, and together they stood outiside Lloyd’s room.  
Back inside, all three men heard the commotion outside. Edgar walked over to the window to see the droves of dolls marching in the streets. His wife and son were there, too. Ungrateful, the lot of them. He sneered. “Well, young man,” he said. “Seems like you made quite a strong impression. Now, here’s the deal:” He lit up a cigar. “In about three minutes, I’ll have you tried for trespassing and attempting to steal my property. I’ll even be genererous and let you pay off your fines in my employ. However, I’ve been told you have quite a way with words.” He smiled. “So take a stab.  Make me laugh. Make me weep. Make me feel young again.” This was an impossible task, he knew. The only song that made him feel anything these days, was the music of machinery and the singing of coins. He laughed as the young man cautiously took the guitar from his back. “Sing!” He said. “Sing for an old man.”
EPIC III
Raven swallowed., nervously. But he was a performer. He could do this. He took a deep breath and grounded himself. As soon as he strung the first chord, he felt the song resonate in his bones. He smiled, and sang.
When the song started, the room seemed to disappear around Edgar. The walls fell away as the boy described the time when he himself had been a young man. He sang of the wonderful nervousness twisting in his stomach as he asked the beautiful young Fay to see a band play with him. She was so vibrant, and Edgar smiled at the memory of when she said yes.   They really had been in love. After all those years of fighting and bitterness, he had almost forgotten that. The giddyness and tenderness overwhelmed after such a long absence. The boy started the wordless chorus of the love song, and all the dolls outside sang along. He even saw Fay mouth the words, though she stopped when she caught him looking. He stood, facing the window, the boy continuing to sing behind him. The subject of the song turned to the present time. It described all the work, all the bitterness, and Edgar felt weary. His heart was heavy from all he hated and feared to lose, and the gently sung words stung like daggers. When you win, you sometimes lose, the boy sang, and all you love does not love you. At that, the pressure that had been building behind his eyes finally became too much, and Edgar McAlister wept.  
PROMISES
“You did it! You madman, you actually did it!” Lloyd swept up his boyfriend in a hug and they spun around the room laughing. “We’re going home!” They slowed and stopped their turning. “So,” Lloyd said. “You cannot look back the entire way?” “No.” Raven explained. “I can only look back when we both have reached the station.” Lloyd thought for a second. “Well, can we hold hands? Maybe a call-and-response thing? We can make this work, we-” Raven interrupted. “No, McAlister said I can’t know you’re there. It has to be done on trust alone.” Lloyd was quiet for a moment.   “Do you? Trust me, that is?” Raven opened his mouth, reconsidered his answer, and closed it again.   “You promised you’d come back.” He said. Lloyd took Raven hands in his own.   “I know. And I am so, so sorry. But you promised you could provide.” They stood there, each considering the mistakes of the past. “Look,” Lloyd said.  “I know I’m not always the most... empathetic. And I can’t promise I ever will be. But Ravey, I’m making a new promise to you. I swear, I will never, ever be disloyal to you. And I don’t mean that in the boring way most people do. Monogamy isn’t our thing.” “It really isn’t.” Raven agreed. “What we have, is so much more than that. I promise I will be loyal to you in every way that matters. And if we-” Lloyd caught himself. “When we hit a rough spot, we’ll figure it out. Together.” Raven smiled. “I have a new promise to make, too. I can’t promise we’ll have it easy. My songs aren’t going to make us rich, so I can’t promise you gold and silver.” “I would never ask that of you.” Lloyd said. “I just want you to be there for me.” “I will. I swear. I won’t lose myself in my work again, and I will shelter you.” The two men embraced. Lloyd trembled. “God, I wish I could kiss you.” Raven looked up and pecked him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll figure something out.” He cupped his boyfriend’s face with his hand, and studied his face. It was the last time he would see it for a long time.   “Are you ready?”   “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You set the pace. I’ll follow.” Raven drank in the sight of his boyfriend, took a deep breath, and turned around.
DOUBT COMES IN
Raven blew in his chilly hands to warm them up. His legs ached and his back burned from carrying his guitar, but he had a smile on his face. He’d done it. He had walked in there and gotten Lloyd out. And now, they were going home.   The Floozies were walking alongside him. “Do you really think he’s behind you?” They asked. “Of course he is.” Raven responded. “Can’t you see him?” The three Floozies turned back, to where Raven couldn’t see, and just shrugged with a smile. Raven itched to turn back as well, but he suppressed the urge. “Don’t be a tease. I know he’s behind me, he said he’d follow.” “Oh, “one said, “jus’ like he promised not to leave? How’d that turn out?”   Raven stopped in his tracks, but shook his head and continued.   “No, this is different. We’re different, now. No more broken promises.” The Floozies laughed in unison. They all had the exact same rhythm and pitch, and Raven felt a shiver up his spine. “Aw, Raven-baby is delusional. Again.” They said. “Did he really promise to stay? Or did ya just think he did? You shouldn’t trust everything your brain tells ya, Raven-baby. It doesn’t have a great track record.” Raven’s hands started shaking. He grabbed the strap of his guitar across his chest and tried to argue back. “It isn’t like that! I’m sane!” this time, his mind finished. He continued: “I-I haven’t had a major break in ages. There's no reason I would have one now.”   “Hm. Funny.” One of the Floozies said. “Ain’t that exactly what you thought last time?” “You knew.” The second one said. “You knew all along you’d fall back eventually. It was inevitable.” “No...” Raven protested. “It’s- I’m...” He tried to find the words to argue back, but he was too distraught. The Floozies looked at him with what seemed like pity. “Poor, mad Raven-baby. Or was it David? Who are you again?” “Shut up!” Raven shouted. His breathing quickened. “Don’t call me that!” “You don’t even know who you are.” Their words cut into him, making him loose his footing and stumble. “Jus’ how many mental breakdowns do you expect him to put up with? You don’t deserve him. Why would he stay with a madman? He finally had enough of your crazy, and now he’s gone.” Through his tears, Raven could see the train station. He quickened his pace. Just a bit more. He had to ignore the doubt gnawing away at him a bit longer, and then he could check. The Floozies hounded him, their overlapping taunts matching what he heard in his head: “You don’t deserve him-” “Just a madman-” “Who are you?” “Mr Adams-” “Not worth the effort-”   “-just keep reinventing yourself-” “Who are you?” As Raven approached the station, the doubt became near certainty. Lloyd wasn’t there. Why would he be? He would turn around and be completely alone, yet again. Why delay it? As he started turning his head, he heard a call:   “Ravey, wait-!”
ROAD TO HELL II / RAISE MY CUP
The stranger stared at Michael. That can’t be it, surely? What happened, did they make it? Michael’s eyes were teary. “I told ya: it’s a sad tale. An old one, as well. You knew from the start how it would end, if you’re honest. They changed the story, sure. As it’s been changed a thousand times before. But a tragedy’s a tragedy, ain’t no changing that.” He chuckled, but it came out more like a sob. “In a way, I feel like Lloyd would’ve appreciated that.” He looked up, trying to keep the tears from falling out. “Ah, dangit, I told myself I wouldn’t cry this time...” He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. He sat like that for a while.   “I wonder how much longer I can take.” He mumbled to no one in paticular. “Telling these stories. So much goddamn pain...” He took a shaky breath. “Alright. Alright...” He rubbed his face and sat back up, trying to compose himself.   “But even still, we keep telling ‘em anyway. ‘Cuz, here’s the thing: to know how it ends, and still to begin to tell it again. As though it might turn out this time.” He smiled sadly. “I learned that from a friend of mine.”
The stranger heard the distant call of the train. “Well, what’d I tell ya? Right on time.” He got up from the bench. “I think that’s my cue. It was nice talking to you, stranger.  I hope you enjoyed my tale.” As the thick smoke of the train filled the station, it became harder and harder to see Michael. He waved goodbye. “Good night, brother. Goodnight.”
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