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hollyhomburg · 3 years

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Color me pretty

(Bts Little space au)

Summary: When it came to the littles, the caregivers knew there was no better activity than coloring.

Tags: SFW, implied bts x reader, pure fluff, little space, little! kookie, Little! m/c, Caregivers! bts,

W/c: 1.5k

A/n: If you don’t like this kind of content please just skip over it and pay it no mind! this is very sweet and fluffy. this can be read alone, but i did use the characters from my other little space ask au titled ‘the peanut butter to my jelly’ it’s linked at the end of the fic! i wrote this drabble in one sitting!

- On the nights that Koo and the m/c are non-verbal but still feeling energetic enough to need stimulation the caregivers have a special little ritual that they like to do.

- it’s something tucked away, always ready to have on hand when they need it, it never fails to calm an overly excited or sugar high little; the blanket made out of a special material that can be washed after it’s doodled on, painted, and made new.

- On those special days, the caregivers bring around all their ‘messy blankets’ the fort making supplies that no one minds if they get ruined, if koo gets his apple sauce on it or if a sippie mistakenly gets it’s lid taken off. they make a nest in the living room with markers and crayons and they’re allowed to get the blanket as colorful as possible.

- The blanket is magic in the littles eyes! filled with simple flowers that they can color in as many times as they want! All the laundry fairy (Taehyung) has to do is pop the blanket in the washer and voila! it’s all ready for more coloring! no more marker marks.

- I just picture her and Koo stretched out on it with half of their stuffed animals for “moral support” while cartoons play in the background coloring to their hearts content. Koo gets a little younger in his headspace sometimes than the m/c though they’re pretty equal in general.

- Eventually koo just gets so small that he forgoes coloring all together, instead busying himself with sucking on the end of a marker. while the m/c just giggles with her tongue hanging out, swinging her feet, the picture of adorable concentration as she struggles to keep her pink marker inside the lines.

- Occasionally one of the caregivers will come in to check on them. And they’d come pet over their heads and koo and the m/c just excitedly gesture to the mess they’ve made! their brains too cottony to make many words other than “flower! made’ pink!!!” koo in his little sing song voice going “flower flower flower~”

- And whichever caregiver who is on “baby duty” will praise them, today it’s yoongi who takes a second to sit, each of the littles tucked under an arm. yoongi leaning in close and tracing his finger along their pretty lines. “you guys got so far today! almost all of them are filled!” he loves how puffed up both of your chests get at the praise.

- He can almost tell how far down they were when they first started coloring. on the outside border the flowers are carefully patterned, but the ones just under where you where sitting are full of wilds scribbles. Yoongi reminds himself to take a picture before they wash it, wanting to save a memory of today.

- “Oh did you make this for us little ones? I bet Joonie’s going to love it you know how much he loves nature! and you even gave each of them little stems.”

- And of course, eventually they find the m/c and koo are asleep in their little puddle of markers. Maybe the m/c has a little bit of purple splotch on her cheek. After they wake them up to put them to bed she whines softly when they clean it off her cheek “oh you poor fussy baby, don’t worry it will only take a second” her cute pout demanding a kiss for every rub.

- Eventually she presses into bed and koo kisses the faintly red spot on her face. his kiss a little wet and open mouthed but so innocent it makes the caregivers bookending them on either side coo. it’s as much of a sorry as koo can articulate right now. his mind feels like marshmellows and stuffed animals, like a too squeezed juice pouch and an empty packet of fruit snacks. totally devoid of big scary thoughts.

- The caregivers are glad they made the decision to throw out all and every permanent marker in the house after the last little incident when Koo decided that people were a viable canvas. I think their whole house would be full of little doodles from the two littles. When they get big they always blush and say that they don’t need to pin them to every available surface. But the caregivers just shush them because they honestly love their drawings.

-To the caregivers, their collection of drawings is a representation of the love they have for their two youngest. A mark of a healthy relationship- that they can give love in a way that matters to the two of them. Maybe jimin gets a tattoo of one of their flowers, a little purple one for koo and a pink one for the m/c on his hip at once point.

- Maybe one day the m/c has what they affectionately call a ‘tiny day’ where she’s small and can’t seem to snap out of it. she tries valiantly, but after that catch her pouting down at her coffee and staring wistfully at her stuffy on the bed they tell her it’s okay. she can be small today and they’ll handle all of the big thoughts.

- Of course they can’t stay home because they have a track due soon, and alas they are adults, so certain things have to be accounted for. There have been many times that the m/c has had to pretend to be at least a little big in public, luckily for the caregivers their littles are always remarkably well behaved.

- They treat it as a game, today, bunny is a secret agent and cannot be discovered by anyone, sent to protect the princess. Nothing can happen to her as long as bunny’s there. But no one can see bunny- or else his powers are nullified. It does the trick. They love to see her nodd seriously when Tae weaves the story for her. it makes their heart hurt when they catch her talking to the bunny. “i gots you.” it makes it so hard to seperate from her for the day.

- Seokjin packs up a day bag and gets her in the comfiest clothes possible and she spends the whole day quietly coloring in the corner of Joonie’s studio with her favorite bunny stuffie in her lap. She’s always careful to tuck him under her blanket and hide him whenever someone comes knocking, pretending to tap away on Namjoon’s tablet, but luckily no one pays her much mind, used to her presence.

- When the noise and the stimulation gets too much for her namjoon puts her in a pair of noise canceling headphones that play soft nature sounds and pretty soon when he turns around to check on her he finds she’s nodded off in his couch. And he gets up to fix the blanket around her before he goes back to work for a few more hours.

- She’s still asleep when the others finish up and decide to pry joonie away from work (a feat in itself) and when the others softly knock at the door she gets up, all bleary-eyed and honestly half-asleep rubbing at her eyes with a closed fist. almost tripping in happiness when she sees jungkook. hitting into his chest with a little ooof, almost tripping to get out of her blanket. So excited to see him- her favorite playmate “Koo play now!? koo get tiny!!!??”

- Already the stress is weighing on Jungkook’s shoulders, his eyes getting all misty when he sees her bunny and the blanket and just wants to regress so bad. He starts to help her clean up the day bag but seokjin and Namjoon ease him away from it.

- “You’ve got to watch her for us Kookie, can you do that? can you be a good boy?” by now they know how to softly nudge Jungkook into his headspace and it does the trick, lets him have a task before he can truly let go. they end up giggling softly with their foreheads pressed up against each other, telling stupid little jokes that are no doubt from jin and playing with each others hands.

- On the ride Home, they both hold onto one of bunnies ears in the backseat of their car. Their heads loling by the time they pull into their safe underground parking garage ready for some snuggles and probably a nice relaxing bath for kookie because he hates feeling sweaty from practice when he’s little. He Just wants to sit and play with some bubbles and bath toys while someone runs shampoo through his hair, the soft-smelling kind that's meant for babies.

- Inevitably Koo always looks up from his bubble bath and points at himself and says “baby?” Hobi nods sagely while smoothing his hair into a goofy mohawk, “baby” he agrees.

- But that’s not exactly true- the better term would be ‘their babies’

~Fin~

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(You can find more little space content here)

#bts x reader #bts little space #bts age regression #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts comfort #little space #bts littlespace #bts #bts fanfic #bts au #bts poly au #jeon jungkook x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #sfw bts

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possiblyimbiassed · 3 years

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The lying liars who lie

Years and years late to the party, I’ve finally gotten my hands on all the DVDs of BBC Sherlock, and I thought it would be fun to watch the extra material carefully, one piece after another, and also listen to at least some of the show makers’ commentary of the episodes. But at this point, after S4 where DVDs seemed to be a constant lying device in general, I tend to look at them with a bit more suspicious eyes...

I still love the show of course, but now that I’ve taken this deep dive into all the special features, I find them a truly hard thing to try to wrap my head around. Even this long after the fact, I’m amazed by the amount of shameless, self-congratulatory BS in the DVDs, where the people involved can’t have enough of complimenting each other and their show, while they skillfully avoid to discuss anything actually meaningful about the plot line. ;) For example, Moffat claims in the S2 DVD that “In fact, you’ll never see a more obsessively authentic version of Sherlock Holmes than this one”. But if we follow their light-hearted commentary, which basically takes the show at face value, I’d call that not just hyperbole, but an outright lie. If you want to see the ‘authentic’ stories from ACD’s work in this show, you’ll definitely need to go much deeper into the subtext and meta levels - neither of which are mentioned on these DVDs of course. Here’s my own (rather subjective) ‘review’ of the whole thing, trying to pinpoint why I view most of the commentary of the show from its own makers as an advanced art of deception.

(My musings under the cut)

Series 1 - a wealth of extra material

First of all - as many of you probably knew already - the whole of the Unaired Pilot is added to the DVD of S1. In the extra material about the making of the series, they (Sue Vertue, Mofftiss and others) talk about what things they changed between the Pilot and ASiP, claiming that many changes were necessary improvements once they knew that they had a whole series and a lot more time at their disposal.

Which I can perfectly understand and agree with in general. But I think what’s missing in their discussions is more interesting than what’s actually there (”Mind the gap” ;) ). Things that I would expect from the show makers when they go to the trouble of comparing the pilot version with the aired product. There’s not a word, for example, about the fact that they added both Mycroft and Moriarty to the story in ASiP - two characters who later turn out to play major roles and appear in almost every other episode until the end of TFP. Or about the choice that one of the screenwriters would play Mycroft.

Neither do they discuss why they chose to relocate the place where Sherlock was challenged by the cabbie from 221B to Roland Kerr’s School of Further Education. Instead they focus on the details, like for example the new design of the interior of 221B.

Not to mention the fact that almost every scene in the Pilot is mirrored in ASiP (as pointed out long ago by @kateis-cakeis X), but at Angelo’s in the Pilot Sherlock follows the events with the cabbie while looking in an actual mirror. I even noticed that in the Pilot the cabbie is offering Sherlock dark-coloured bottles with the pills in them, while in ASiP those bottles are transparent, as if the cabbie is offering Sherlock to play Black or White in the chess game that he is simulating. What’s with all these mirrors, though? Not a word on the DVD... ;)

Now, even though these rather remarkable choices are neglected together with a great bunch of minor ones, I still think that the most interesting fact about all this is that they actually included the whole pilot version within this DVD, which is sold by the franchise. Why even do this, when it raises far more questions than it answers? The only logical reason I can come up with is that they’re laying out a track of little hints that anyone with a deep enough interest in the show to actually buy the DVDs can try to follow. And it seems to me that lying by omission is one of the first steps in the long line of cryptic and misleading author comments on this show. But at the same time, they clearly want the fans to have access to it all, even the abandoned version.

Moving on to Series 2, time for bigger lies

In the extra material of this DVD Benedict himself describes how his character "faces one of his deadliest enemies in the shape of Love, and it comes in the form of Irene Adler, who is this extraordinary dominatrix [insert here a bunch of superlatives regarding Adler]...”. And then we see how Adler whips Sherlock with a riding crop (without any kind of consent, I have to add) while he’s lying on the floor, and we have Lara Pulver telling us how it was to have a go at Benedict on set. So Holmes whips dead bodies and Adler whips living; seems like a match made in hell! :))

Gatiss claims, grinning with his whole face, that “they’re clearly, absolutely made for each other”. OK, so I think we can see Sherlock being intellectually impressed by Adler, and even trying to protect her from Mycroft, and we can see John acting jealously. We can also see her being dressed and styled as a perfect, female mirror of Sherlock. But I’m still at a loss what all this has to do with love on Sherlock’s part? Especially since he’s not even responding in any fashion to her various attempts at seducing him.

And there’s more: Paul McGuigan, the director of ASiB, claims that the scene where Sherlock has a conversation with Adler inside his Mind Palace about the crime case with the car that backfires "is a part of a kind of love story, if you like...” No, I don’t. Maybe it’s just me, but if their aim really was to convey to their audience a love story between Sherlock and The Woman, I think they failed miserably. All I see is a guy ’mansplaining’ to a clever woman how to use her brain, while she’s trying to flirt with him by expressing her admiration (to no avail, though) and make deductions at the same time. Nothing new under the sun, really. John did the same thing repeatedly in ASiP (without making own deductions) and got far more attention from Sherlock, but I’ve never heard any of the show makers call that ”a love story”. But by ’lie-splaining’ the scene with Irene to the audience, they try to manipulate us all to see it as such...

In all the direct commentary of this episode, where Steven, Mark, Sue, Benedict and Lara are present, I get the impression that every time they even touch on the relationship between Sherlock and John, they hurry to add the term “friendship” or “man love” or similar words in case they forgot them at first, avoiding even the tiniest possibility that there could be anything more going on between them. They even explain that when Irene calls them “a couple” she does not mean anything romantic. This whole approach feels almost paranoic in the midst of all the laid-back jokes and light-hearted talk about the filming. It’s as if a sort of restrictive, heteronormative filter or blanket is being constantly applied, to teach the audience the ‘no homo’ lesson of it all. And the more I listen to this, the more tiresome it becomes.

In the commentary Moffat does reveal an interesting detail, though: that the ‘Flight of the Dead’ in ASiB was inspired by a cut out scene in the Bond movie On Her Majesty's Secret Service. To me this is just one more reason to question the ‘authentic’ quality of this scene, as opposed to possibly taking place in Sherlock’s Mind Palace. But I digress...

Listening to the commentary in general, it’s like it’s aimed to distract the attention from what’s going on at the screen rather than highlight it and try to explain their intentions. They do mention that Irene didn’t actually ‘beat’ Sherlock in the end of ASiB, but there’s no explanation of this obvious deviation from canon, where Adler does indeed fool Holmes, taking advantage of his prejudices.

The rest of the extra material of S2 is mostly about technical stuff, special effects and such, and also about filming techniques and Benedict’s delivery of fast deductions. But the part I really do love is the one where Andrew Scott talks about how much he enjoyed playing the scene where Moriarty dances before breaking into the Crown Jewels. That’s one of my favorite scenes of he whole show. :) Also, the takeaway message from this DVD is Moffat’s words at the end:

“These are still the formative years of Sherlock Holmes, and the most important thing about this series is not that it’s updated; it’s the fact that those two men are still young and they’re still at the beginning of what they don’t yet know is gonna be a lifelong partnership”.

And then comes Series 3...

...and its extra material, with the most blatant attempts at deception so far, I believe. At this point Sherlock is called a “psychopath” by both the show’s characters, John’s blog, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman as if it were true, which is a big deviation from ACD canon. That simply doesn’t happen there; while Holmes is sometimes described as eccentric, no one in the books is ever claiming that Sherlock Holmes has some kind of mental illness leaning towards cruelty and egotism - not even his enemies say this about him. In the show, however, they begin in ASiP with making him torture a dying man for information (something that is not included in the Pilot). And in S3, where they avoid discussing the reason why they turned Mary Morstan into a ruthless assassin, this major shift is glossed over by the fact that in the same episode (HLV) they also turn Sherlock into a murderer, who cold-bloodedly blows the brains out of a blackmailer for threatening to make said assassin’s crimes public.

But without ever getting into the “why” of it all, the cast and crew seem overly happy and smiling describing these rather morbid choices as something positive; “fantastic”, "fresh and new” and "amazing” are their choice of words. Benedict claims that Mary, who has literally shot and almost killed Sherlock in HLV, is now "a new best friend of Sherlock’s”. Amanda claims that Mary “is protecting John” when she shoots Sherlock in the chest. Now they’re both psychopaths, and poor little John is forced to stomach them both because he’s addicted to danger. In Amanda’s words, Mary also “kind of gets in between the two of them, but she wants them to be together as well”. Which is a load of BS considering that Mary tries to kill the protagonist of the story.

Lars Mikkelsen thinks it’s “such a good script” because “you’re mislead as an audience”. But he never gets the chance to expand on what the misleading actually contains, because then Mofftiss cut in to express how much they love playing with “what ifs”. As if this whole mega-budget project of a show were just a big experimental playground without any actual story to tell.

Benedict repeats his line from HLV that Magnussen “preys on people who are different” and Moffat also says he “exploits people who are different”. Which is really confusing, considering what we can see Magnussen actually do in the show. Lady Smallwood and John Garvie are two well-established, powerful governmental politicians whom Magnussen blackmails by finding their respective pressure points. In Garvie’s case his pressure point seems to be alcohol problems in his past, but according to media he’s later arrested on charges of corruption. Lady Smallwood is blackmailed on the basis of her husband having sent compromising letters to a minor many years ago, in spite of later claiming that he thought she was older and stopped when he found out the truth. And then Magnussen is blackmailing an assassin who recently threatened to execute him but shot Sherlock Holmes instead, in order to try to get at Sherlock’s brother Mycroft, another powerful governmental figure.

But what does media seeking out dirt on certain people in power and their families have to do with “people who are different”? Despicable as the method may be, isn’t this unfortunately how political power play usually works in our society? Or are TPTB somehow a repressed minority group now? Unless this whole “people who are different” accusation is actually about something entirely different, something that none of the show makers even cares to mention... ;)

In these DVDs, none of the involved persons is ever discussing the change of roles with regards to canon, though, or the (lack of) logics in this turn of events, or even a hint about the narrative motivation behind them. It’s all about the great Drama, the extraordinary visual effects and the aim to endlessly “surprise the audience”. Which is fine by me to a certain extent, but when this is all that’s being said, it feels extremely superficial, as if the audience is merely seen as a bunch of consumers that have to be triggered more and more by horror, special effects and cliff hangers to be able to appreciate the show. (“Warm paste” indeed, like Gatiss has later criticized some viewers of wanting...) While the "why”; the idea behind this surrealistic adaptation, made by self-proclaimed fanboys of ACD, is not even touched upon. Around this, the silence is total and therefore totally confusing.

Maybe I shouldn’t even go into Series 4...

...but why not, since I’ve already started? :)

First of all, there’s a lot of extra material on this DVD and I particularly love the parts about the music and composing and Arwel Wyn Jones’ work with the design and build-up of John’s and Mary’s flat and the interior of 221B. Those bits are truly enjoyable. What I could live without, though, is the leading commentary that kind of instructs us, the audience, how we should interpret the show.

Benedict is on it again on this DVD, telling us that in TST they picked up where they left off in S3 and “It’s a very happy unit of three people that then become four.” Why does he feel the need to make this statement, considering how S3 ended? Actually, if there’s anything I totally fail to see in S4, it’s happiness. The banter between the three of them may seem entertaining for a while, but who could have a relaxed, warm relationship with someone who tried and almost succeeded to kill you less than a year ago? Without any sign of remorse? Now there’s a dark tone of discomfort and mean jokes that feels forced and not even a bit happy to me.

But Martin tells us how excited John and Mary are about starting a family and Amanda mentions how much they’re looking forward to the baby. Again and again it’s repeated, as though trying to rub it in: “they’re in a good place, they’re a loving, married couple”. Yeah, right - a child that (judging by TSoT) wasn’t at all planned and now with an assassin for a mother... Twice we see the new parents complain that their daughter has the mark of Satan on her forehead and debate which horror movie she’s from. The clichéd hypocrisy of it all is sickening, and I’m willing to bet that it’s really meant to be. ;)

But Gatiss chimes in, deciding for us all that the christening of Rosie is “a funny scene” and “they’re enjoying each other, enjoying being on adventures as a three”.

An interesting detail is that Gatiss also tells us that the working name of this episode was “The Adventure of the Melting power Ranger”. So this little blue guy was that important? :) And - even more interesting - is when he says: “Cake is now the code for violent death”. So how should we interpret Sherlock, John and Molly going out to have cake in TLD then, on Sherlock’s (supposed) birthday?

These might be jokes, though, but when they tell us that Sue cries every time she sees Mary’s death I strongly believe they must be joking. How could anyone feel truly moved by this overly sentimental long monologue where far more efforts are put into reacting to Mary’s speech than saving her life? And John’s mooing like a cow, is that also moving? :)

One thing Martin says about TLD that actually disgusts me is regarding the morgue scene where John assaults Sherlock and Sherlock lets it happen: “From there, really, their relationship can only sort of rebuild, that’s the absolute worst it can get”. As if outright physical abuse would be something that makes you want to rebuild a relationship? Wow - just wow... How far can they go with this crap?

Anyway, when we finally arrive at the absurdity of TFP and Sherlock’s ‘secret sister’, everything is of course discussed as if she actually does exist on the given premises, and everything she does is ‘real’, no matter how impossible it would be in real life. The abandonment of any attempt to have the story line make logical sense is skillfully covered up by more distraction with fascinating technicalities of the film making process. This is where Gatiss makes his now almost classic statement that after Sherlock and John jump out of the window at 221B when a grenade explodes there, it’s just “Boop! And they’re fine.”

Of course there’s no serious attempt at explaining this logically. Except perhaps Gatiss claiming that they both landed on Speedy’s awning - whatever good that would do to them, since the awning is leaning downwards, but never mind... But we never even saw that happen, did we? A great deal of time is then dedicated to show all the precautions to have Martin and Ben jumping safely at low level onto a madras supported by empty cardboard boxes.

Sian Brooke did say something interesting about Sherrinford, however, that got me thinking. She said that Eurus “wants revenge for the years and years that she has been held captive” there, isolated, and that in TFP the Holmes children are now “lab rats” and “it’s an experiment”. On a meta level, I think we can indeed see this episode - and maybe the whole show - as a kind of experiment, but maybe we, the audience, are also lab rats? Since Sherrinford is slightly shaped like a film camera (not commented in the extra material, of course), it leads my thought to all the adaptations through the years and years where Holmes and Watson have not been allowed to be together. A whole century when Sherlock Holmes has been held captive, restricted by the very same sort of heteronormative filter that all this extra material imposes; it’s like Sherrinford, isn’t it? Which gives all the more meaning to Moriarty’s arrival to the island, accompanied by Freddy Mercury’s “I want to break free”...

I think I’ll let the final words in this little exposé come from Mark Gatiss in The Writers’ Chat (my bolding):

“Moriarty is a fascinating thing in that in our sea of ongoing lies, one thing we’ve genuinely been completely consistent about is telling people he’s dead. But no-one believes it! And it’s a rather brilliant thing.” Again - self-congratulatory statements. But instead of providing some actual evidence of the death of this character, who has kept popping up in almost every episode since his supposed demise, they think that the more a confirmed liar repeats something, the truer it gets? And the more we’re supposed to believe them? Well, all we can do is wait and see. :)

Tagging some people who might be interested:

@raggedyblue @ebaeschnbliah @sarahthecoat @gosherlocked @lukessense @sagestreet @thepersianslipper

My earlier meta on a similar topic (X)

#bbc sherlock dvds #Deception in BBC Sherlock

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dontcallmecarrie · 2 years

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replying to @kine-iende, who commented on this post:

A great way for the rivalry with richards to start and thankfully no stalking susan in this AU. .. victor is an arkward dork - i really like this version of him

I’m very glad you liked him!

I...should probably preface this by saying that I have next to no knowledge about how Victor von Doom’s like in the comics, so apologies if he’s wildly OOC— I’m mostly basing his characterization off the two (2) movies I last saw over a decade ago, and taking quite a few creative liberties in trying to get them to fit into the MCU.

Under the read-more, because this got long.

But yeah, in this AU, he’s a disaster.

Almost a lovable disaster, if he weren’t, y’know, literally a dictator with diplomatic immunity. As it is, he is the king of mixed signals and keeps everyone on their toes because his social skills peaked sometime during his boarding school days, and it’s only been downhill ever since.

It’s... a Problem™.

The people that know him understand, but those are few and far between— apart from his most trusted advisors in Latveria, aka the guys who fought alongside him during the civil war, Justin’s probably one of the only people alive who can read him and knows he’s a mess who pretends he knows what he’s doing.

The rest of the world, meanwhile, is stuck dealing with the stoic, short-tempered dictator with an incredible poker face and tendency for terrifying glares, long silences and a reputation for being a terrifying badass when he wants to be.

He is the worst person to be stuck with the job of being Latveria’s reintroduction to the outside world, but until Zemo finishes wrapping up his degree in international relations [...and gets out of the habit of shooting his problems, there’s that, too], they’re stuck with him as the most qualified person for this mess.

You can imagine how well that goes.

...which ties in with the following:

When it comes to the whole situation with the Fantastic Four, I’ve been grappling with how much they’re going to show up in the main AU. Mostly because if we’re going with this ship, here’s how I’d picture it going down:

Victor von Doom is a mess.

How the hell nobody seemed to notice was anyone’s guess, but he was self-aware enough to know this current situation in the political was less than ideal.

If he weren’t also a student, it probably wouldn’t have been nearly as bad, but. He’d put his life on hold for long enough, he couldn’t help but be selfish just this once.

Pursuing a degree while trying to catch up with his oldest friend? Nobody could begrudge him of that, surely. Not after everything he’d done, everything he’d survived.

And even if they did, screw them.

Ahem.

Victor had been pleasantly surprised to discover he’d done remarkably well on the placement exams, and as he went through the program, found he...was apparently on a different level to most of his classmate. Of his entire program, there was exactly one (1) person who he found tolerable, intellectually speaking.

Reed Richards truly was a worthy opponent, when it came to competing for top marks.

...now if only the man could get his act together in his personal life, their rivalry would be perfect.

Maybe Victor was being overly critical; maybe he simply had unrealistic standards, after living the life he had. But he simply could not understand how someone as bright as Richards was capable of being so foolishly idiotic when it came to the people around him.

How he could have a friend as loyal as Grimm, how he and Storm managed to even get together in the first place was a mystery to Victor— not that he had room to talk, he knew. But at least Victor knew to treat those close to him with care, no matter how clumsily his efforts came across. Even if it was the bare minimum of getting flowers and donuts for the front desk staff once a week, for having to deal with his scheduling mishaps and the odd minor incident.

Richards couldn’t even manage that with his girlfriend.

No wonder she left him.

It sounded harsh, but. Victor couldn’t help but think it, even as he dealt with the aftermath.

...which, okay, in retrospect maybe offering Susan a job as a cultural facilitator at the Latverian embassy wasn’t one of his brightest moments in regards to timing. Still.

The dirty looks were uncalled for.

Even though he’d take those, over the way both Susan and her bratty little brother kept looking over at him, sharing a look, and muttering something that had the brat honest-to-goodness giggling. It happened seemingly at random, and he had yet to find out what was so funny. He’d asked more than once, and Susan had merely said, “oh, just admiring your friendship” with an admirably straight face, while at her side, Johnny wheezed.

Victor wisely chose to not ask why.

Or why they immediately started gossiping again, as he finished packing up his things and got ready to head out and visit his best friend.

Offscreen, this conversation absolutely happened at some point:

Johnny: you’re sure he doesn’t just want—

Susan: he’s gay.

Johnny: wait, really? Mr. tall, dark, and broody over here? The grumpy bastard who spends about as much time as Reed in the labs, and never smiles?

Susan: I know how it looks, but yes. Get him talking about his crush and he does a 180, it’s great.

Johnny: I’m sorry, are we talking about the same guy?

Susan: yeah, he... I’ll know I found the right guy when I find someone who looks at me the way Victor does when he’s talking about his crush.

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#Naught replies #replies #thinking aloud

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yandere-society · 3 years

Text

Love L(eyes)

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Synopsis: He was a bit odd, quiet, mysterious and studious, but you liked him. Found him more agreeable than some of your other coworkers. Besides, you were never the one to judge, no matter how strange the rumors around him were. This is why you happily accepted his slightly childish, secret Santa-exchange Christmas gift. And being so incautious is what caused your own undoing

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Attempt at Black Comedy, Yandere themes, Stalking, Obsession, Mentions of Smut, Riding, Orgasms, Voyeurism, Blackmail, Y/N Stupidity, Unedited

Admin: @roses-ruby

Request:

“Looks like someone’s had one too many Hawaiian-flavored shots again.”

Your coworker remarks at the girl in the distance hogging the karaoke machine and tearing her lungs out to Wham’s Last Christmas. You huff humorously at her and at your other colleagues who became shitfaced to overly spiked punch as an excuse to get loose in their normally constrained work environment. Some other time you would have joined them, but this week had been especially exhausting for you.

The supervisor, after zealously creating the holiday season itself, had sprained her ankle 2 days ago – leaving you in charge. As if it wasn’t chaotic enough thanks to her dedication for winter festivities, it was now all in your hands and the both of you couldn’t have been more different. Whereas she was Mrs. Claus wrapped in jubilant, giddy and imaginative red wrapping, you were a nonchalant grey piece of paper. Which is exactly what you decided to do with everything she had planned out for the office’s Christmas party:

Caroling? Those who want to sing can go ahead.

Gingerbread house competition? Literally not happening.

Secret Santa? Just give the presents when you can.

It may have been uninteresting but as long as adults had their alcohol – you eye the elated faces of your coworkers – it wouldn’t matter.

“___?” You jump slightly, spinning around when you heard your name being spoken in a low, almost intimate timbre.

Namjoon stood a few inches away from you, holding what looked like a present in both hands. Your coworker, Jin, raises an eyebrow at him.

“��Mm…this is for you.”

“Oh!” You were starting to think you had been left out of the drawing hat, “Thank you so much, Joon!”

Gently grabbing it from his arms, you hold it out and give it a little shake.

“Can I open it?” You ask, trying to follow ‘gift etiquette.’ He stares at you for a moment with an unreadable expression and makes you wonder if you had said something wrong.

“I would prefer if you wait until you got home.”

“Oh-uh, alright. Thank you.”

With that, he turns to leave.

“…Happy holidays, Joon!”

He shifts his head to give you one last look, a small smile on his plump lips.

“Thank you. Happy holidays.”

When he’s out of hearing range, you hear Seokjin sigh loudly.

“I mean…he’s hot but isn’t he kind of weird? It’s such a waste.”

“He’s not weird…”

“Girl, listen to this- you know the office slut?” He kindly refers to Lisa, one of the female secretaries, “She was all over him last summer until she finally got herself into his room. Turns out he lives in a fucking warehouse in the middle of nowhere! I don’t know exactly what she saw, but she’s been spooked out ever since and avoids him as much as possible. Like just last week, I was lurking around and thought I saw the both of them make eye contact while passing each other in the hallway and that poor girl! She looked as if she almost soiled herself.”

“Those are just rumors, Jin.” You roll your eyes at his exaggerated tone, “Maybe she got rejected? And as for Joon…I think he’s just a little shy.”

“Whatever. All I’m saying is don’t be too shocked if you find a woman’s head in that box.”

You snort at his ridiculousness, placing Namjoon’s gift on your work desk. The drinks you had before the party start catching up to you and you excuse yourself from Jin to head to the restroom. Once you’re in the stall, you sigh, placing your palm against the wall of the stall and leaning towards it. Perhaps you were slightly more tipsy than you had originally imagined.

Just then you heard what sounded like two pairs of kitten heels walk into the foyer.

“Fuck.” You mutter as you hear them talk about whatever the fuck. Social gatherings really weren’t your thing and you wanted to go home since privacy was nonapparent in this office. When you just about became mentally prepared to empty your bladder and scramble out of the building, you heard your name being called, pulling your attention away from the matter at hand.

“___ scrapped the Gingerbread house idea, isn’t it crazy. The supervisor lets her get away with so much even though they are worlds apart.”

Ah yes, gossip. How easy it was to spread misinformation. What they glossed over was the part where the supervisor hated your guts, however, you just happen to be two grown, working women who were able to reach compromises for mutual benefit. The gingerbread project was scrapped because you managed to convince your jolly boss lady that it was an impossible occurrence to accurately judge without her gingerbread expertise. And it was nothing but the truth.

“Well, whatever, I didn’t want to participate in that dumb event anyway. But you know what really irks me? It’s when she thinks she’s so special and unique.”

Special? When have you ever-

“She honestly thinks she’s so different.” The girl continues, “Plastered on the wall each time we throw an office party- whispering and giggling with men. Did you see her with Namjoon and Jin today?”

“Isn’t Jin gay?”

“That’s besides the point.” She sounded exasperated, “What I’m saying is that her lack of interest in everything makes her uninteresting! She may think she’s above us when she pulls all these stunts but she’s so boring, it’s almost painful to watch.”

“Pfft, you’re a bitch.” You hear laughter and the clack of compact powder before their footsteps retreat from the foyer.

For a minute you just stand there, thinking about nothing. Sure, you didn’t expect everyone to like you, but you were on friendly terms with everyone in your office. Even as a number 2, you’ve never raised your voice or demanded anything unreasonable. The saddest part was that you knew exactly who those two girls were and had conversed with them on multiple occasions.

You were definitely sober now as you felt a small prick of annoyance stab at your heart.

A girl who tries her hardest to not be like ‘other girls.’ A boring girl. Is this truly what people thought of you?

It’s not too late when you get home – but it feels like you’ve been away for ages.

You groan as you remove your heels, tossing them somewhere near the entrance area as you trudge further into your studio apartment. With weary arms, you throw the gift onto the bed and fling yourself besides it, listening to the mattress creak for a second before silence surrounds you once more. Although you decided to sleep as soon as you got through your door, you knew you would just overthink and confuse yourself by remembering what those girls said.

It shouldn’t matter…it was just casual conversation…not like they wanted to kill you or something, you rationalize. Also, if you were someone who cared so much for what others said, then you couldn’t have continued bearing such a laidback personality for this long, could you? Still, something about the confidence they had in their malicious words bothered you.

“Ugh,” You grumble, sitting up and placing the gift on your lap to distract yourself from all the negativity. Trying to clear your head, you tear open the bright colored wrapping as swiftly as you could. A smile crosses your face when you think about cold, silent Namjoon carefully handling vibrant Christmas paper over this box. Didn’t seem like him.

He always had a peculiar reputation around the office, but he was never anything but duly courteous towards you. Though you never thought much of anyone from your workplace, you did think well of him and his kindness. They denied it like crazy, but everyone had a crush on the smart and mysterious Namjoon, even Jin. You tear off the tape connecting the flaps together and carefully pull out whatever was inside. And that’s when you come face to face with a…stuffed teddy bear.

Really, just a regular brown bear with soft, fuzzy fabric – nothing fancy. Now you were even more confused. Did you ever give him the vibe of being a stuffed-animal lover? Actually, aren’t there some guys who give this kind of stuff to girls, like on Valentines? Joon probably didn’t know what to get you and went with something generic, you deduce.

You stare into its eyes. Plastic black orbs lifelessly leer back at you. When you began to feel oddly uneasy, Jin’s story suddenly flashed through your mind. There wasn’t a head in the box like he said, but it didn’t mean this bear couldn’t be an ominous gift.

What if…it had a small camera stuffed inside the layers of cotton like in those horror movies?

As soon as you conjure the question, you shake your head, cringing at your own thoughts. Just because some people found him disagreeable didn’t mean he was an actual creep who would do that. You, of all people, knew how quickly false notions spread throughout that office. If they were wrong about you, then they were definitely wrong when regarding the quiet Namjoon. He was a simple, introverted man your insufferable coworkers picked on and this was just an innocent teddy and nothing more. Exhaling through your nose, you were about to throw it back in the box and forget about it when a memory abruptly froze you.

“-she’s so boring, it’s almost painful to watch.”

Ok…as a rational individual, you know there’s no camera in this toy, you know that. But if there was a camera – it would mean Joon wants you in some fashion. Would you want to ~secretly~ watch a person you didn’t have a crush on? Exactly. If there was a camera, it would also mean… that when those bitches from the restroom see you, someone plain and inconsiderable in their eyes, be the object of ‘office hottie’ Kim Namjoon’s desire…

Wouldn’t they eat their own words?

The thought instantly sends endorphins throughout your brain. How satisfying. Little old, boring you being stalked by the sexiest, most capable man in the office.

“Hmph.” You smirk at the bear before looking around your room. There was a shelf on the wall facing your bed, stacked with some novels you read back in college. Pushing yourself off the mattress, you walk up to the shelf and lightly thrust away some of the books before placing the teddy bear on an empty spot.

This was silly, you think, gazing at the bear in amusement. Although you were certain there was no camera, the mere thought about spiting those women made you ignore all the red flags which were present in your head since you grew up as a woman in a male-dominated reality. Honestly, you were too caught up in your silly revenge dream to even care.

This was silly, but…strangely fun.

Since then you did everything which requires adequate privacy in front of the bear.

Sleeping, getting dressed for work, masturbating, changing underwear and even when you just had to get out of tight jeans and into sweats – you did it all in the once place you knew you had the potential of being ‘watched.’ For some reason, you couldn’t take these actions seriously. Everything was just a game to you and you were actually starting to have fun with the conception of someone observing you round the clock. You started to feel ridiculous sometimes, especially when you tried to act sexy each time you stood in front of your bed.

This was definitely something you had no idea you’d be so into. It was as if you were really beginning to believe there was a camera in the fucking bear. Well if there is – you hope Namjoon likes black underwear as much as you do.

“Nnh- ahh-” You moan as you slam down on your boyfriend’s stomach. He grunts in pleasure, tightening his hold on your flexing hips as you arched your spine out further. With your head thrown back, you slightly open an eyelid to peek over at the “spycam” teddy bear on the wall shelf.

A camera’s lens should be wide enough to catch this angle, right?

“___,” You look back at your boyfriend when he groans your name, suddenly remembering he was under you, “You’re so into it today.”

“Um, y-yeah…”

What else could you say? Tell him the truth about how you’re some pervert who’s currently getting off on the idea that there might be some creepy hot dude watching you bare-naked, fucking another man right this minute? ‘Yeah’ was the only logical choice of words you could invoke. Your boyfriend was a nice guy – someone you met on a dating app. You weren’t exactly looking for anything long-term, but you did want to get off without the hassles and dangers of a one-night stand. It’s been going on for two months now and although you don’t think ‘he’s the one’ or anything, he was calming to be around.

“Oh-oh cumming!”

You stare as his mouth becomes unhinged and his eyebrows knot in frustration. As you said, he’s a nice guy but you wish he wouldn’t look so strange each time he reached his high. If someone was watching you both, this kind of thing is embarrassing.

Wait, what? You stop moving on his dick as soon as the thought crosses your mind. Why are you even thinking about something like that? After a few seconds, the pressure on his chest releases and you mindlessly move off of him, joining him on the mattress. He glances at you in confusion as you stare at the ceiling.

“But you didn’t cum.”

“It’s fine, I’m not really in the mood.”

He sits up, head still turned towards you as he removes his condom, “Uhhhh…You sure?”

Instead of looking at him, you turn your head in the direction of the wall where the bear was placed. Dark orbs gazed back at you.

“Yeah.”

It was just a game to you, but it was starting to get strange.

You stretch your dormant muscles as you sit up in your chair.

It was your first day back from the three-day holiday break and you were already in a state of mental detriment. Existing in the same room as people who probably hated you was awkward. Not being able to accurately work through your sudden Christmas impulse of voyeurism also weighed you down. You passed out last night, but the first thing you would do once you got home is throw that stuffed bear away. The game had gone long enough, three days to be exact, and it wasn’t fun anymore. Not when you were involving others.

A part of you felt bad for Namjoon, but you’re sure he wouldn’t actually care.

His obsession with you was just your own delusion after all.

With a groan you get up, gathering the coffee mug from your desk. Maybe some caffeine would help you get it together. You slog into the breakroom, walking up to the freshly brewed coffee pot and pouring a large dose into your cup.

As you’re about to take your first sip, you hear the breakroom door creak open. You’re surprised to see Lisa, but she seems even more surprised – astonished even – when she meets your eyes. For a moment she just stands there by the door, not moving her hand off the handle as she leers at you as if you were a ghoul.

Any other time you would have been confused and creeped out, but right now you could only mentally sigh. Did she perhaps think badly of you as well? It would explain why she always avoided you.

“You should…stay away from Kim Namjoon.”

What?

“Uh…what?”

“I…you should stay away from him. He’s…to you he….”

You squint as the girl stares at the floor, struggling to form words. Why was she suddenly talking about Namjoon and you in the same sentence? In that moment, a look of assurance built up on her face and she looked back up at you, parting her mouth.

But then you see her eyes widen in horror and her shoulders stiffen as she takes a step back.

“Lisa?”

“I- uh- I have to go-” She says, sprinting out of the room before she even finishes her sentence. What the hell was that?

“Good morning, ___.”

Fuck, you recognized that low timbre. You spin around, almost spilling the hot brown liquid as you do, to meet with the one face you were dreading all day. Namjoon stood by you, holding onto his own mug and smiling at you quietly. After every stupid thing you’ve just done in the past couple of days, you really didn’t want to meet him. But you couldn’t abruptly run away either.

“H-hi…Joon…G-good morning.” You mutter, side stepping so he has better access to the coffee pot.

“Cold out, isn’t it.” He makes conversation and you hum along, taking a sip of caffeine as you dwell on how to run back to your desk without seeming too crazy. Namjoon continues to talk about the weather while your anxiety grows. Why were you suddenly so nervous? Were you maybe still delusional; convincing yourself about how he is madly in love with you?

He stops talking for a moment then, and looks over at you who is not present in reality at all. You don’t notice his dark gaze rake over your body nor his grin at your worry.

“You know,” He mutters, almost inaudible, “I do love black underwear as much as you.”

“Yeah.” You sigh in fake amusement, not really processing what he just said. Until you do.

It takes you a minute or two of staring at your coffee to finally register his words into your brain. You slowly look up at him, no traces of amusement or even the previous pointless uneasiness apparent on your current expression.

“What?”

“I said,” He turns his whole body towards you, “I do love black underwear on you.”

“I…” You take a step back, suddenly feeling very small next the man glaring at you, “I’m sorry?”

He raises his hand and fear instantly paralyzes you. When he touches the hair on your head with his fingers, you wanted nothing more than to shove him off and run away. Instead you were caught – irreversibly immobilized by the way he captured you in his gaze.

“Don’t look so surprised, didn’t you want me to see?”

A million and one curses just flash through your mind. This wasn’t real, this was not happening. He was not saying all this. You were probably lying dead next to your boyfriend and still dreaming. That had to be it, because there was no way. No way Namjoon was saying what he is currently in the middle of saying. It was a game; it was just a game.

“Honestly, I thought you would have thrown away such a silly thing as soon as you found it. Did you know it costed me a total of $30? I can’t believe such a cheap investment worked.”

Your breath hitches as you listen to him speak. Mom always called you a fucking idiot, but wow you were a fucking idiot. You were warned, you heard the rumors about him and you should have known. There was a difference between the gossip of drunk girls in the spur of the moment and the account of a very sober and concerned homosexual friend. Still, not wanting to face the present moment, you continue to deny it in your head.

“Nn- uh-” You move back, getting ready to make a run for it. Wishing Jin’s loud ass would somehow interrupt you both.

“I would stay still if I were you.” Namjoon smiles with a warning tone, making you halt, “You see I happen to have a lot of…information. Information which can end up in places it’s not supposed to. I’m sure both of us don’t want that.”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes. You knew exactly what he meant. He recorded you, he has footage of everything you did and he was threatening you. Every time you got undressed, slept, pleasured yourself and – fuck – you and your boyfriend. He’s seen everything. If those recordings end up online, you’d be finished. Forget about your boring girl reputation, if anyone saw those recordings, you wouldn’t even maintain a reputation to defend. And haven’t some women gotten fired over something similar?

“W-why?” You sob to him, not wanting to lose everything.

“Sshh, it’s okay.” He takes you in his arms, hugging you in a soft but firm manner. What else could you do but let him touch whatever he wanted. Although you couldn’t lie and say you were 100% certain the bear didn’t have a camera, you still passed it off as a joke. You messed up, bad. And around you stood the consequence.

“Aren’t holidays great?” He mumbles into your hair in a low, intimate timbre.

____

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Have a wonderful day -- 🍑

#yandere society #yandere bts #bts #yandere namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #yandere namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts christmas #bts fanfic

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puckyeahobx · 4 years

Text

blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you

a/n: WEE WOO WEE WOO RAFE CAMERON WOOBIFICATION INCOMING. this is my favorite thing that i have ever written. enjoy (NOT MY GIF)

summary: y/n and rafe are in love at Midsummer’s and then someone (cough topper cough) tries to come around and start trouble. protective!rafe jumps in and it is sexy

warnings: nsfw duh

word count: 4.8k

It’s not that you weren’t excited about going to Midsummer’s. You were, truly. Ever since you had moved to the island, you had looked forward to the party every summer. There was something about getting done up in a pretty dress and whimsical accessories that almost made you forget how much of an outsider you felt amongst the other Kooks.

You had only moved to Figure Eight about halfway through high school, so by then everyone had already made their cliques. At that point it didn’t matter that your parents had money, no one took notice. It also didn’t help that everything about you proved that you weren’t a preppy douchebag. So, instead of getting wasted out of your mind in someone’s basement, you spent a lot of your time at the beach. Here is where you met the Pogues, and thank God you did because without them, you weren’t really sure where you would have ended up. If it weren’t for running into the boys: JJ, Pope, and John B around the docks, you would have never met Kie. And if you had never met Kie, you would have never met Sarah. And if you had never met Sarah….well, your life would look drastically different, to say the least.

The Cameron family was somewhat of an Outer Banks institution. Everyone knew them, and depending on which side of the cut you were on, you either loved them or you hated them. Well, you either loved or hated Ward, that is. And even if you didn’t love him, you probably feared him, which was all in the same to him. The Ward kids were a little more controversial from person to person, though. Sarah had a reputation that didn’t really fit the sweet, loyal girl she was, but even with her reputation no one ever really had any reason to dislike her that wasn’t directly related to her father. Wheezie, the youngest, was often forgotten about, but it seemed like she liked it that way. Then there was Rafe. The oldest of the Ward kin, and by far the most contentious. He was like Ward in the way that he was either feared or hated, but unlike Ward, there weren't a lot of people willing to say they loved him.

However, “a lot of people” weren’t you.

You weren’t really sure when you changed teams on the Rafe Cameron front, but you imagine it was at some point in the summer before your junior year when you started hanging out with Sarah regularly. Rafe was older than you, and not around a whole lot, but he was around enough. You saw how he argued with his dad and how drastically different Ward acted around Sarah and how he acted around Rafe. You saw how empty he looked when he wasn’t around Topper or Kelce. The Rafe you saw from your spot on the living room sofa that summer was not the Rafe you had heard the urban legends about. He was preoccupied - it always seemed like he was thinking about what he was going to have to do next to make sure he kept being worthy enough. You try to remind yourself of all of the things you had heard about him, but then he’d help Wheezie with the newest secret project or offer help to Ward at every turn, and what was legend and what was the boy before you became complete opposites.

It was embarrassing, truly, how smitten you had become with him that summer. You found yourself sticking up for him in conversations with Sarah and Kie, sometimes even with the Pogues who had age-old reasons for hating him. Almost everyone thought you were just being naive, being new to the island and all, but Kie saw right through you. She saw the way you watched him enter and exit rooms, how eager you were to help him with docking the boat. Everywhere he was, you just happened to turn up at. Again, it was a little embarrassing, but there was just something about him that made your feet forget that they had a mind of their own. The word magnetism comes to mind. It took him a couple of months to notice, aka well into your senior year, but eventually he caught on and started playing the game right along with you. You were typically an impatient person, but you’re glad you paid the long game with this one. It’s how you ended up on his arm three Midsummer’s in a row.

So, again. It’s not that you weren’t excited about going to Midsummer’s. Afterall, you were in the prettiest dress you had ever seen (you had flowers in your hair for God’s sake) and your amazing boyfriend on your arm. It was destined to be a good night. Everything was aligned and it was going to be perfect. But, then again, perfect doesn’t usually last long in the Outer Banks.

You and Rafe had done the rounds to all of the most important club members, per Ward’s request, and you were about to throw a fit if you didn’t leave soon. All you wanted was to go back to one of your guys’ houses and have a night in with some netflix and your sweatpants. You didn’t even care about how damn cliche it was. It was just that exhausting pretending to like 25 consecutive rich white people. But Rafe was not interested. He knew how happy it made Ward that he was there making connections and participating in all of the traditions of Kook life. Regardless of what you felt about Ward and how he treated your boyfriend, you didn’t say anything. If it made Rafe happy, that was all you cared about.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to put up a fight.

You two were sitting at one of the tables draped in white linen, the fairy lights encircling them being the only sources of light three hours into the party. He was people watching, laughing and talking with people who walk by, his hand on your thigh as a sense of comfort. You were always the one thing that could ground him when he started to fly off the handle like he could still do from time to time.

“Rafe,” You whispered as you leaned into his neck more so than his ear. You wanted him to feel your breath against the sensitive spot behind his ear.

He shivered for just a second before he fought it off with a cough, turning to you with a forced smile, “Yes, Y/N?”

You made your best puppy dog face and looked up at him, your chin on his shoulderas you wrapped your arms around his middle, “I want to go home.”

He laughed a little at your dramatics and put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you tighter so he could kiss your forehead. “We’ll leave soon,” he whispered into your hair.

You tried whispering into his neck again, desperate for him to give into temptation. “I want to leave now,” You pressed the gentlest of kisses just below his earlobe, “Please?”

He shifted in his seat and sat up a little straighter, coughing as he pulled away from you enough to get your lips off him. “Just like, 30 more minutes. I don’t want Dad to think I’m ditching.”

It was your turn to pull away as you sat back in your chair and crossed your arms across your chest, fully pouting at his loyalty and devotion to the Cameron institution. You didn’t say anything, instead opting for a loud huff and your nose turning up to the sky, refusing to look at him any longer.

However, since you were so busy refusing to look up at him you didn’t notice him lean back in closer to you where it was his turn to whisper against your neck and in your ear, “I’ll make it worth the wait, I promise, Baby.”

There was no mistaking the hitch in your breath as you sunk back into your chair and into his chest, a blush creeping all the way from your exposed chest to the tips of your cheek bones. The immediate reactions you had to his voice never failed to amuse him, so you weren’t surprised to hear him laugh in spite of you. At this, you threw a weak punch at his shoulder that only made him laugh harder.

“Come on, dance with me,” He finished off his laughter as he stood up and held his hand out for you, “Not nearly enough people have seen how smokin’ you look tonight.”

Taking his hand you couldn’t help but smile, but still managing to roll your eyes at the cheesy remark, “I think you paraded me around to everyone at this party about three times over, Rafe.”

He led you over to the makeshift dance floor where it was just you guys and three other couples who all looked to be above the age of 80. His hands on your waist and yours around his neck he smiled down at you with the smile that was reserved just for you, “It will never be enough people.”

“You’re ridiculous, Rafe Cameron,” You leaned up to kiss his smiling lips, never able to resist him for long.

“And you’re beautiful, Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

But before you could finally kiss - something you somehow haven’t done yet and were getting desperate for - you were interrupted by the most obnoxious person you have ever had the displeasure of knowing.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Lady and the Tramp? Rafe, you’re Lady of course. Haven’t seen your balls in awhile, huh bud?”

You had hated Topper ever since you had first met him, but he had only gotten worse since High School ended and he found out what everyone else had known for years: that he was completely useless.

Rafe immediately moved so he was standing in front of you slightly, every muscle in his body tensed completely, but neither of you said anything.

Topper chuckled to himself as he crossed his arms over his puffed-out chest. He had a habit of getting overly confident once he got more than three whiskey’s deep. “Oh so you just have nothing to say, pal? Not enough that she has your balls in a fucking vice grip, she took your tonuge too...what a shame. You always had a way with words.” His smile was as menacing as it could be on a trust fund baby, but it still wasn’t great.

“Is that all?” Rafe said, sounding surprisingly calm. His muscles and jaw were unyielding, though. His grip on your hand flexed with every word he said as if he was slipping fast and desperate to have something to keep him from falling over that ledge.

Topper scoffed dramatically, “What? I can’t joke around with my best friend anymore? Or, my former best friend, I guess. Ever since that pogue-slut started sucking your dick you never give your real friends the time of day anymore.”

You flinched at the horrible things he was saying about you, but it was no match to the way Rafe was all but blowing fire out of his nostrils. “If I were you, Top, I’d turn your ass around and leave her the fuck alone.”

“I’m just trying to be there for you, bro. You’re not yourself anymore! This bitch has you completely brainwashed! The Rafe I know would have spit in the face of the pussywhipped cuck you’ve turned out to be.” He paused and then looked over Rafe’s shoulder at you, giving you a quick up and down. “Must be some pretty good pussy if you’re able to turn the King of Kildare county into your personal bitch.”

Rafe’s hand suddenly left yours and he laughed to himself, “You’re a funny guy, Top.”

“No, I'm serious, man. Let me have a piece of that. I’ll decide if she was worth ruining your reputation for.”

Rafe looked down and laughed for a second before looking directly in Topper’s eyes, “Go to fucking hell.”

Before he even got the last word out of his mouth, his iron fist had made impact straight into Topper’s jaw. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just because of the power behind Rafe’s punch, but he was on the ground immediately, muttering gibberish to himself as his mouth flooded with blood.

“Rafe!” You screamed as you pulled him back just as looked like he was about to go in for another round.

He fought against your grips to get closer to him, wanting one last word. “You ever talk about me or my girl again and you’ll have a lot more to worry about than a bruised jaw. You got that?”

You didn’t wait for Topper’s response as you started to drag Rafe away towards the front of the house where his Jeep was parked. People were starting to stare and you wanted to get out of there before Ward caught wind of what had happened.

The half walk/half speed run to the car was a silent one. You didn’t know where to even begin and you could tell Rafe was embarrassed of acting out like that. He hadn’t done anything like that in over a year and he had been so proud of himself for turning over a new leaf for you.

Once you got into the car you both sighed in relief. It was then finally that he turned to you, his voice trembling just the slightest bit from residual adrenaline and the shame creeping up from the pit of his stomach to the tip of his spine. “Baby, I’m- I’m so sorry. But I, I just couldn’t help it. He was saying such fucked up shit about you. Calling you all of those things and talking about fucking you- I was going to be sick. I had I to do something baby, I’m so fucking sorry-”

He was caught off by the intoxicating crush of your lips against his. You grabbed his face in yours hands and kissed him harder than you had in a long time. It took him almost no time at all to melt into you, grabbing onto your waist as best as he could across the middle console. You were out of breath and positively drunk on each other when you finally pulled away, the most ridiculous smile plastered on your face. When you opened your eyes you saw that same smile mirrored on his perfect face, his eyes hooded as he laughed a little between pants.

“I know I uh, shouldn’t enable violent behavior,” you paused, still trying to catch your breath, “But that was one of the hottest things I have ever seen in my life.”

He swallowed, keeping his eyes locked on yours as his goofy smile turned into a smirk, “I’ll always fight for you, Princess. You know that.”

You whined just the slightest bit at the pet name before putting on your seatbelt. “Home. Now.” Afraid of what you would do if you looked at that shit eating grin for another second, you looked straight ahead out the windshield.

“Yes ma’am.” You heard him chuckle as he put the car in drive and head off toward his house, his hand on your leg seemingly inching up higher and higher with every mile traveled.

By the time you got back to his house, you were about three seconds away from jumping him in the wide open space of the Cameron residence’s driveway, but luckily your boyfriend had a little bit more restraint as he took your hand and directed you to the guest house that he had been living in for the last year and a half (it was all a part of Ward’s idea to give Rafe more responsibility, but all it had really done was give your sex life completely free reign, which you greatly appreciated).

Once you got into the front door, he all but slammed you against the door in order to shut it. “Damn if I had known me throwing punches at losers got you so hot I’d head down to the country club more often,” He whispered against your lips.

You moaned the slightest bit as his lips trailed down to your neck while he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinning you against the door. “It wasn’t about the punch-” A pause, “Ok it was sort of about the punch. But it was- it was more about you defending my honor or whatever. And you look so fucking sexy when you’re mad.”

His lips found his way back to yours, but first he smiled and whispered again, “I’ll always defend your honor, Baby. You’re my girl.”

And with that, you were back to making out sloppily as he carried you down the hall to his bedroom that, at this point, was pretty much your shared bedroom. He not-so-gently dropped you on the bed before reaching down and yanking his shoes and socks off when he went for his belt and dress pants. Your hand immediately flew up and swatted his away. “Let me do it.”

He groaned and ran his fingers through your hair as he looked down at you undoing his belt, your eyes fixed on his innocently. Once his belt was undone you wasted no time reaching a hand inside and feeling him up just the way he liked. You got up on your knees without removing your hand from its careful ministrations so you could kiss up his neck to his lips, “Thank you for being my knight in shining armor.”

Clearly not able to take much more teasing, he, a little gentler this time, pushed you back against the bed, this time coming with you. Since he was so much taller and broader than you, being underneath him was sometimes overwhelming but in a sexy, intoxicating way that you never got used to. He whispered against your neck, “If this dress isn’t off your body in about three seconds I’m going to fucking scream.”

You pushed him off of you and laughed before sitting up just enough to clumsily slip the dress off your head while he, equally as graceful, flung off his dress pants and shirt. He sat back on his knees for a moment and drank the sight of you in, face flushed, mouth agape, and completely, totally in love with you. “This never gets old. You’re...you’re perfect.”

That familiar blush and pit in your stomach that came with these intimate moments with him snuck up at you as you whispered a “Thank you”, a shy smile playing across your cheeks.

He returned the smile and leaned back over you, reigniting the fire from before as soon as his lips touched yours.

His hands were everywhere, everywhere, everywhere as you gasped beneath him with yours gripping his hair like a lifeline. From your chest to your ass he was caressing and stroking you as if you could disappear from him at any moment. When a hand finally reached into your underwear and he realized how turned on you already were he all but growled against your lips, “You’re always so ready for me...you have no idea what you do to me, baby…”

All you could muster up was a whimper as he hooked his fingers around the sides of your underwear and tore them down your legs. Wasting no time, attached his lips to you and started eating you out in the only way he could, which is to say it was perfect. He knew exactly when and where to use his fingers, and when and where to apply pressure with his tongue. It was amazing truly how it came so naturally to him. He was up to two fingers pumping inside of you when he moved his head up your body to kiss you, knowing what you needed to finish.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby? I can feel it, I know you want to,” he whispered against your neck as he sucked and nipped at all of your favorite spots, “You’re so good for me always, go ahead. I’ll count you down. 5.”

You really could feel it starting to build up, but you wanted to hold back for just the right moment.

“4.”

Holding back seemed to be getting harder and harder, his fingers angled further up against you and his thumb found its way to the nerve ending that his tongue had to abandon to get to your neck.

“Such a good girl. 3.”

You were full blown whining and rocking against him, desperate for the feeling only he could bring you.

“2. Almost there, Princess.”

With a final squeal, you grabbed onto his arm and held it steady as you ground yourself against him, eyes squeezed shut.

“1.”

Before he had even finished the word, you were there. Your vision was white and your whole body was under the control of something primal and hot. He coaxed you through your orgasm with his fingers and the sweet encouragements falling off his tongue and into your ear.

When you opened your eyes finally you saw him looking down at you positively beaming with pride. Getting you off was his one greatest joy in life, which was good because, come to think of it, it was yours too.

“Fuck.” Was all you could sigh out as you looked up at him, your chest heaving.

He leaned down to kiss you again and chuckled against your lips, “I was just about to, God. You’re so impatient.”

Not finding him particularly funny at the moment - you had much more pressing things to take care of - you broke the kiss to push his boxers down his legs and grab a hold of him, stroking him a few times before lining him up against where you needed it most. You were just about to slide him in when he pushed your hand away and paused. “You know I love you, right?”

Momentarily breaking out of your primal haze, your body softened against the bed and you reached up to grab his face, “Of course I do, Baby. I love you too.”

Another pause from him where he averted his eyes before speaking again, “I would do anything for you,” he looked back at you, “I mean it. Anything.”

“I know,” you whispered back, trying to show that you understood his urgency.

“You’re like- You’re seriously the best thing that has ever happened to me so when Top started saying all of that disgusting shit about you and how you ruined my life I just- I just lost it, I guess.”

Your fingers found the back of his neck where you threaded them through his hair, trying to ground him. “You did the right thing, protecting me. He was drunk...who knows would have happened? He deserved it.”

He scoffed and shook his head, agreeing with you. “Yeah he fucking did. When he started talking about fucking you, I could have killed him. He’s lucky all he got was a sucker punch.”

“He’s the worst person on the island, it was about time someone put him in his place. You’re a good man, Rafe Cameron.”

He looked down at you again and smiled ever so slightly, “Yeah?”

Nodding your head and biting your lip to hold back a goofy grin you reassured him further: “The best.”

Closing the gap between you guys once more, he leaned down to capture your lips with that smile still plastered across his cheeks. As soon as your lips touched, though, that goofy mood was gone. He lined himself up against you and slid in slow and steady, making sure you both got to savor this moment. It was no shock that such a tall man would be so well endowed, but you still were never used to how good he felt like this and you were starting to think you never would be.

You both gasped and moaned when he finally started moving, his head lulling back as he held onto your hips with both of his big hands, pinning you down to the mattress hard (as if you would ever, in a million years go anywhere).

Another thing you didn’t think you would ever get used to is how into dirty talking he was. The man could go on and on and it made everything that much more powerful.

“You feel so good, Baby Girl.”

“Yeah, fucking scream, Princess. I want to know how good I’m making you feel.”

“You like it when I fuck you like that, huh? Say it.”

You were always more than willing to indulge his desires considering how hot they made you and much more confident they made him. Rafe was your first and only, but you couldn’t imagine that you were missing out on much. He had to be the best fuck you could ever hope for.

Before long you felt that knot start to loosen in the very base of your stomach, your breath trying desperately to keep up. “Baby, I-I’m-”

He continued to pound into you relentlessly, “Me too, sweetheart. Just hold off for a little longer. I want us to cum together.”

You whimper and grab onto the headboard behind you, trying to ground yourself to something before you lose it completely.

His thrusts quickly became sloppy and out of rhythm and his thumb once again found your clit, signaling that it was about time for both of you to give in.

“Please,” you begged, barely above a whisper as you strained against the headboard.

That was enough to do him in and you followed after all but a half second later. Both of you started mumbling all kinds of gibberish about how much you loved the other and how hot that was, but neither of you were really present enough to pay attention.

Rafe fell on the bed on the other side of you and immediately wrapped you up against him, pulling the covers over the both of you. Your head was resting on his chest and you could hear his heart struggle to regulate itself.

“What do you think my dad will say?” He whispered sadly after a couple of minutes of running his fingers all along your side as you drew shapes into his chest.

You lifted your head just enough to look up at his worried face. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Rafe.”

“I embarrassed the whole family because I lost my temper...he’s not going to be happy about that.”

Setting your hands under your chin’s place on his chest, you rolled onto your stomach to look at him longer and harder, “You lost your temper because some drunk psycho was insulting your girlfriend and calling you a pussy-whipped bitch. I’m afraid to know what Ward would do in that situation. He’s probably thinking you were too nice.”

He chuckled slightly, making your whole body move with the laughter in his chest. “Yeah I guess that’s where I get my um….passion from….”

“Hm...I don’t know. I think you cultivated it yourself. You give Ward too much credit, you learned how to be a good, loyal person all on your own.” Confident in your assessment, you turned your head back against him and cuddled up for the night, exhaustion hitting you all at once with a giant yawn.

Rafe paused for a moment before leaning forward and kissing the crown of your head and smoothing your hair, “I think you had a little bit more to do with that than I did.” It was barely more than a whisper, you wondered if you were even meant to hear it.

Another yawn, “Nah, you already were everything you are now. You just needed someone to give you permission to be it.”

You couldn’t see it, but he was smiling from ear to ear as your words sank into his skin. He was the first one to admit that when he met you, he didn’t deserve you. It was a guilt that had hung over him these past few years. Everything he did was to try and be the type of guy that deserved you, that was right for you. He knew you loved him for who he was then and who he is now, but hearing you say such kind things about the version of himself he hated the most just made the guilt ease up a bit because, hey, if he was good enough for you, then that was all that mattered.

“Goodnight, baby,” you mumbled against his chest as you nuzzled up against him, even though you couldn’t get much closer.

He sighed with a smile on his sleepy face, “Goodnight, Princess.”

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fic #obx #obx fanfiction #outer banks #outerbanks fanfiction #rafemaybank wrote this

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

cabin fever

pairing: ransom x female!reader

warnings: very cheesy and unrealistic. lots of fluff, your teeth might fall out. strangers to lovers

summary: when a nasty snow storm ruins your girls trip to a ski lodge, you have to... adapt to your interesting new roommate.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: and there was only one bed…. oh my god there was only one bed….

Come on, they said. A girls trip would be fun, they said. You all needed a break from your routine and work, they said. Who doesn’t wanna kick off their New Year on vacation, they said. Of course, that was all before you arrived at a remote, overbooked resort in the middle of nowhere, hours after your friends’ flights had been cancelled due to an incoming horrendous snow storm.

Now, you stood near the counter in the lobby, biting back tears as you began to desperately rake your brain for solutions to the bizarre issue you were facing.

“God damnit, don’t you know who I am?” a deep voice at the desk thundered.

“Of course, Mr. Drysdale, but you know that we can’t just give this room up to you in conditions like this,” the poor hotel employee told him, trying to keep his composure. “We have way too many clients for you to get a room like this all by yourself!” After hearing this remark, this ‘Mr. Drysdale’ character, who didn’t seem much older than you were, grit his teeth, leaned his head back, and groaned exasperatedly.

You tried not to be too nosy, but it was nearly impossible not to look over at the dramatic scene that was playing out next to you. A grown man, throwing some sort of hissy fit about not getting a room. Luckily for you, he glanced in your direction at the perfect moment to make an uncomfortable eye contact, and suddenly, his annoyed look turned into a devilish smirk.

Oh no.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m not here all by myself. In fact, my girlfriend is right over there,” he tilted his head to gesture to you. Oh no. This was much worse than you anticipated. When you saw that smirk, you thought that maybe he’d hit on you, maybe even catch you at the bar and make some crude offer to you. You didn’t think he’d be using you in order to get a room.

“Oh, I-” you stuttered, not even knowing where to begin. What the hell was going on? You could barely process the last 5 hours of your life, let alone the scenario you’d just been tossed into.

“Alright, Mr. Drysdale. Sorry about the inconvenience.” The hotel employee didn’t even bother hiding his annoyance as he looked down and began to type on the computer. The man looked back over to you, gave you a little chuckle, then moved a bit closer to you so that he could wrap an arm around you.

You were honestly at a loss for words. What the fuck was happening? Maybe you were asleep. There was no way that this was all real. You were incapable of fighting this situation, or even arguing with this man. To be honest, he was pretty handsome. And it seemed like you two were getting one of the last rooms in the whole lodge, so at least you wouldn’t be sleeping on a couch in the lobby until the snow storms stopped.

“Alright, Hugh, Here’s your key. 2C.” The employee bit the inside of his cheek, enjoying the tiny win of calling the bothersome man a name he hated. Hugh? Really? You thought to yourself while rolling your suitcase away, and keeping up the act of being some stranger’s girlfriend until the pair of you reached the elevator.

As you two stood in silence, the weight of your actions began to sink in. What the hell did you just sign yourself up for? For all you know, this Hugh dude could be a murderer. Or a rapist. Or a crazy murderer rapist. You began to envision your name as the title of some True Crime podcast. ‘The Ski Lodge Slaughter of Y/N L/N.’ You began to feel yourself sweat under your winter coat.

“So, your name?” Hugh asked you casually, as if he hadn’t taken you more or less against your will. He basically kidnapped you. Oh god, ‘The Kidnapping and Killing of Y/N.’ Hugh looked down at you and quirked a brow. “My God, loosen up. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!” He laughed. You debated whether or not to even tell this man your real name, but in a split irrational decision, you blurted it out.

“Y/N,” you said, then grimaced after. “Hey, don’t try anything funny on my guy,” you warned, trying to sound tough, but probably not sounding like it. “I have pepper spray on me, and I know your full name. No funny business, Hugh Drysdale.” You warned.

You watched as Hugh’s face went through a rollercoaster of emotions, but the general theme of which being amusement. You swore he stifled a laugh as the two of you exited the elevator and walked through the rather cozy halls. The pair of you stopped in front of a pine door labelled 2C.

“How about you call me Ransom,” he told you before opening the door to your home for at least the next week.

----

You spent the first few minutes in your suite looking around at all the luxuries it offered. It was essentially an apartment, and saying you were impressed was an understatement. The space was truly beautiful, with views like nothing you’d ever seen before. The master bedroom overlooked a mountain, the bathroom was massive and gorgeous, the balcony contained a hot tub, and the living room held a massive fireplace. There was only one problem.

There was just one bed.

Maybe you could sleep in the living room or something. It was definitely large enough. You were simmering deep in your thoughts while staring out the main window in the living room when you heard the words of your new roommate.

“It’s nice right?” He asked while coming to stand next to you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“We used to come here every year, you know.”

“Oh really?” you replied, trying to sound intrigued in order to stay on his good side in the event that he actually was a murderer. “Like, you and your family? Or like, you and your friends..?”

“My family,” he looked away from the window and at you. “I can assure you, it’s always this nice.”

You looked up at him and tried to ignore the fact that you felt like you were a character in a Hallmark movie. “Why’d you stop?” you inquired, and he shrugged before turning away. You honestly felt kinda bad for the guy, even if he was just a random stranger. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I was supposed to be here with my friends. But their flights got cancelled because of some impending snow storm.”

You swore you heard a faint chuckle as Ransom began to walk into the bedroom. “That is pretty funny,” he confirmed before you heard the door close. Rude. You thought to yourself, before sitting down on the sofa in the middle of the room, and trying to find a show to hold you over.

----

The flight must’ve taken more out of you than you initially thought, because you woke up early in the morning with a blanket lazily draped over you, and a sharp pain in your back. You dug into your pocket and checked the time on your partially charged phone. Unsurprisingly, it was way-too-early-to-be-awake-o’clock. Damn jet lag. You tossed the blanket off yourself and figured that if you were awake, you may as well be eating something good. Shuffling into the kitchenette, you found a room service menu, and ordered enough for a small army. It wasn’t like you were paying for the food in the first place.

Sometime after your food arrived, Ransom walked into the room as well, and sat across from you at the table. “Morning babe, what’d you get us?” He asked playfully before popping a strip of bacon into his mouth.

You couldn’t help but to quirk your lips. You were kind of annoyed that he hadn’t even attempted to offer you the bedroom and left you to sleep on an uncomfortable couch, but his playful demeanor was infectious. “Basically everything, babe, hope you don’t mind the tab.” You gave him a little smirk as you lifted a mug of coffee to your lips.

“Not a problem, babe. How’d you know I’d wake up with an appetite this big?” He continued to banter with you.

“I just know my baby so well,” you giggled, then abruptly stopped when you noticed Ransom was not exactly laughing along with you. “Uhm, I’m gonna go take shower,” you said quickly before standing up, pushing your chair in, then escaping to the bathroom.

----

Your awkward interaction had been about a day ago, but luckily you hadn’t had any moments like that since. Some time in the afternoon, you sat back down on the sofa and cuddled into your own little corner. A bit later, Ransom joined you on the opposite end of the couch, and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence while watching reruns of classic Christmas movies ever since.

You were honestly shocked at how fast you and Ransom warmed up to each other, and how quickly you’d let down your (nearly nonexistent) guard. But to be fair, what girl had the willpower to resist the kinds of baby blues in his eyes? And his slightly overly confident, yet funny personality was quickly growing on you. Not to mention the way he was wearing the shit out of every sweater he put on. You couldn’t help but to daydream about the man while a pot in the kitchenette warmed up the milk for your hot chocolates.

“Hurry up, babe,” he whined from the sofa, to which you rolled your eyes. What a brat.

“On my way, dear,” you giggled, before finishing up the drinks and bringing him a mug. “You know, I really didn’t know what to expect when you basically kidnapped me,” you stated while sitting down.

“Haven’t you had fun? I mean, I know we can’t really go out in this kind of weather, but I like to think of myself as a fun guy.” he took a sip of the drink, then reeled at the heat’s assault on his tongue.

“I mean, I never really saw myself having as much fun with a stranger as I did when we played Uno last night,” you gave Ransom a shy smile.

“That was pretty great,” he nodded in agreement, and returned your smile with a lopsided grin.

“You know, I really expected you to be a dick. I’ve never seen someone make as big of a scene as you did in the lobby those days ago,” you snickered, then let your laugh die away when you saw Ransom press his lips together, furrow his brows, and stand. “What?” you asked with concern laced in your voice.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said dryly before walking off to the bedroom. This man and his Goddamn mood swings. You set down your mug, and cuddled into the quilt covering your body before attempting to go to sleep.

You awoke to a loud thud, and the sensation of goosebumps prickling all over your skin as a visceral reaction to the frigid cold that had suddenly taken over the suite.

“What the fuck,” you’d heard a groggy voice say from the bedroom. Ransom shuffled out of the room, and stood in the hall leading to the living room while pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Did you do this?” he slurred slightly, words heavy from sleep.

“No!” you pouted. “I just woke up in the same freezer as you!” You sat up, and stretched your arms while you tried to think of a reason why it was suddenly so cold in your suite. Maybe the employees were playing a prank on their least favorite tenant. Maybe the furnace was broken. Either way, you were both cold as hell, and couldn’t find a solution. You only had so many blankets. Suddenly, something came to you.

“Go back to your room, asshole,” you said quietly before wiping the sleep out of your eyes. Ransom obliged, and you began your search for as many toasty clothing articles you could manage. Luckily, you were smart when packing, and made sure to bring plenty of cable knit sweaters with you. In your tired haze, you clumsily threw the articles of clothing on, then began your trek to the bedroom.

“What are you doing here?” Ransom asked while pulling on another sweater, seemingly having the same idea as you.

“Get in the bed,” you demanded, before flopping in the bed next to him and yawning. You nearly moaned at the comfort of a real bed, rather than a sofa, but filtered yourself. “Cuddle me. We’ll be like little penguins.” You whispered sleepily, already feeling more relaxed at the heat radiating off your bed partner.

There was not one word of complaint coming from Ransom as he threw a strong arm around you, then buried his nose in your hair. “‘Night, Y/N,” he told you, his voice trailing off.

Even in your sleepy haze, your heart rate quickened when you realized that the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

----

In the morning, you woke up to a soft, yet empty bed. The heat was now clearly back on, and the heat was definitely back on in your face when you began to recall last night’s events.

----

That day was more of the same for you, watching shitty Rom Coms, over-indulging on room service, playing endless rounds of chess, and even more card games. Neither of you addressed the furnace sized elephant in the room of your late-night cuddle session, and you honestly hoped to keep it that way.

Sometime between a game of Solitaire and Crazy, Stupid, Love, you fell fast asleep, and were surprised when you woke up without the crick in your back, and deeply inhaling the scent of pine.

After you’d drifted off, Ransom had decided to carry you into his bedroom. You just looked way too peaceful to have to spend another night in your sofa hole. He set you down on the bed, pulled the comforter over your body, then gave you a quick peck on your forehead.

“What the fuck,” He wondered quietly out loud to himself.

----

Cabin fever was beginning to eat at you and Ransom, and apparently, there was no better way to battle that than to drink excessively. It started when you added a bit of Bailey’s to your hot chocolates, and only escalated as you spent the night raiding the minibar.

After a few too many shots, you grabbed your phone and hit shuffle on a random playlist on your phone. “Come dance with me,” you giggled, pushing his hand away from a bottle of Grey Goose, and grabbing it instead. The pair of you stumbled over each others’ feet for a few minutes, before waltzing into the bedroom together and plopping clumsily onto the bed as a unit, with you straddling Ransom’s thin waist.

“I can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you,” you leaned down and spoke into his face. “Imagine if I wasn’t so dumb, and I didn’t go along with your stupid plan to get this room,” your nose was basically pressed into Ransom’s at this point. You looked deep into his eyes, and he was quiet for a moment.

“Y/N, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he commented out of the blue, reaching up to rub his thumb on your flushed cheek.

“Shut up,” you averted your gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He asked raspily.

“Yeah,” you agreed, setting your hand on top of his hand that sat on your cheek.

The sound of fireworks being shot off in the distance briefly caught both of your attention, leading you to look out the window for a moment, before looking back at each other.

“Happy New Year, Y/N,” you were quickly pulled into a sweet, passionate kiss.

And honestly, you couldn’t think of a better way to start the year.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x you #ransom drysdale x you #ransom thrombey x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #knives out fanfic #hey i wrote that lol

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jungwon-crush · 3 years

Text

(2) home - enhypen

youtube

(listening to the song while reading the chapter is recommended~)

in a long straight path, there lined eight houses, every two faced each other. this was what i considered my neighborhood.

the houses looked completely worn out. there were still leftover hopscotch marks in the grubby street that separated the houses, and several cracks lined the outer front walls of the homes.

i hastily ran out of one of those houses, and onto the narrow roadway. i was in a bit of a hurry - i decided to wash myself before going to sunghoon's place because the field made me feel sticky, which means i took an extra amount of time to get ready.

as i left my terrace, i heard gates clambering to my right side.

"oh, you're late too." niki pointed out as i approached him.

"didn't know you were going to eat at sunghoon's as well."

"sunoo ran out of food," niki crankily replied, "and everyone else is having dinner there anyway, so why not? it's free carbonara, might as well take the chance because sunghoon never shares anything unless his mom forces him to."

i gasped, "the others are there too-"

"hell yeah! goo goo ga ga hoon waaaah go cry about it! we're all going to drain your food supply tonight!" niki said as he childishly hopped up and down.

"niki, please don't be too happy. there will be three people slaughtering us tonight." i shivered at the thought while we both started to walk towards sunghoon's house at the end of the pavement.

jake, heeseung, and jungwon hate waiting for people in order to eat. they're literally a foodie trio, they get grumpy when they can't have their meals right away. they also tend to blame their hysteria on the people they're waiting for. the word blame is an understatement, heeseung takes food a bit too seriously for a twenty year old.

usually, they just go ahead if they get impatient.

however, sunghoon's flight-attendant mom is supposedly back home tonight. our parents have created this sort of rule that we have to eat all-together. this rule stems from when seven year old me threw a tantrum when i found out that the boys ate fried chicken without me, so we've been kind of following it for most of our lives because the elders get upset if one of us has a temper.

niki added, "actually, four people will have ideas that involve murdering us tonight. well honestly- only three for me. four for you."

i stopped in my tracks, "what the hell are you on about?"

"jay doesn't like when others take his stuff and wear it without his permission.."

clothes. niki was referring to my clothing. i looked down just to realize that i was wearing an oversized t-shirt that had 'park 02' printed on it. it was jay's custom tee from high school.

was i in such a rush that i didn't even register that i put on jay's shirt that i had secretly stolen?

"niki- you dumbass! why would you tell me this now? we just reached sunghoon's!" i yelled at the lanky being while i harshly slapped his abdomen.

"oh so i'm the dumbass? that's what you get for being an idiot, i can't believe you're a senior!" he yelled back at me.

i rolled my eyes and hit him one more time in the gut before taking position behind him as we slipped into the entrance of sunghoon's humble abode.

"using me as a shield won't do you any help." niki sneered while he opened the front door.

i wretchedly threw my head back and followed niki's back into the wood-paneled parlor. a chatter of voices could already be heard.

we moved past a set of stairs, and eventually winded up where the dining room was.

six people, who were previously facing each other and conversing, turned towards the direction niki and were coming from. they were seated at an old-fashion table with eight cushioned chairs. four individuals were settled on the side of the table that could see the room's entrance, while two people had their back facing niki and i as we arrived.

i scanned the room and surprisingly, nobody wore an irked look.

"byeol! looking good!" a puppy-like boy grinned. at that, i made my way towards him and teasingly pulled at his dark hair. jungwon, who sat beside him, elbowed his arm and mumbled something that sounded similar to "jake, focus on your food".

sunoo gleefully waved his hands then patted the seats beside him, gesturing for niki and i to sit there. the two of us shuffled and took our seats.

i found myself directly next to sunoo, with niki at the left end of the table facing heeseung.

i wrapped my arms around sunoo, he returned my actions and drew nearer to me which made our cheeks squish against each other. i creaked, "sunoo, my only source of sunshine! how are you? it's been a while."

"it has been way too long! i have been suffering lately- because of this moron called sunghoon! for the past hour he has been talking about how he received five confessions today even though it's only the second week of him attending college. my ears are so close to falling off!" sunoo wailed dramatically.

i hugged him tighter and jokingly sniffled, "i'm so sorry, sunoo... i can't imagine what you've been going through."

while i was comforting the poor boy, a hoarse voice sarcastically rang out, "i apologize for sharing my experience of being a really attractive, warm-hearted, and extremely smart person."

i let go of the hug and looked at the being past sunoo, "you don't need to ask for forgiveness. i think we all know that you don't have any three of those qualities, so what's the point in saying sorry?"

sunghoon just scowled as a response.

heeseung snickered at our exchange before his expression became serious, "start eating, byeol. the vegetables are gonna get cold."

i titled my head in confusion. wait what? i internally thought, did he just say vegetables?

i peered at the middle of the table, where an empty bowl with remaining white sauce stood alongside a plate filled with greens.

"you guys ate without-"

"yeah, byeol. you and niki were an hour late.. what did you expect-"

i cut jungwon off, "you were the one who told me there was gonna be carbonara! and now there's none? you could have made sure that heeseung and jake wouldn't hog it all for themselves!"

jungwon bit his lower lip guiltily, "i tried... but you know how they are."

niki shook his head as he grabbed the salad, "disappointed, but not surprised."

he put some vegetables onto my plate, then took the leftovers for himself. i began to bitterly munch it while making weird faces.

"i swear they're no older than six." jay whined. "also, byeol, is that not my shirt you're wearing?" he continued.

"now now jay, it is not the time to get mad at byeol. she 's already irritated, so she'll bite back even more." heeseung advised as if he was talking about an animal.

jay annoyingly pointed at me, "you're not getting away with this type of stuff next time."

i glanced at heeseung and gave him a quick thankful look. he gave a small smile back.

"considering you guys went ahead, is your mom not here, hoon?" niki probed.

"she's out running errands, won't be back until 10." sunghoon answered.

from there, the usual night-time conversation started. we discussed about the coffee shop heeseung was running, lutton high rumours, and how jake was unexpectedly doing well with girls in college too?

"did you know that i got invited to 3 dinner dates today? hoon's not the only one attracting ladies in the university of lutton." jake smirked.

"you should have went to one then." sunoo and i retorted at the same time. we playfully nudged each other.

"well, i was going to! until i heard that byeol was joining us for dinner tonight, she hasn't eaten with us for the past week!" jake countered.

jungwon's eyes flickered to mine while i told half of the truth, "sorry, i've been tired from school recently."

niki's eyes went wide, "oh right! you're still in the photography club? i heard hwang intak's the president this year!"

"who's hwang intak?" sunghoon strangely asked. he was rarely curious about others apart from us.

jungwon and jake's ears perked up at the question as well.

"lutton high's new it boy, also known as your replacement. except he's like ten times more friendly than you." sunoo taunted.

"yeah, right." sunghoon scoffed.

jay began to clap his hands and wheeze, "i thought the girls there would be heartbroken when sunghoon graduated. they move on quickly!"

"he's actually really nice though," i insisted, "during our club meetings, he always allows me to do homework before taking pictures. he even offers to help sometimes even though he's in a different section. i wonder why."

jungwon interrupted, "he's probably one of those overly kind people."

i shrugged, " i guess? i'm the only senior in the club apart from him, so he probably understands how i feel overwhelmed with assignments and stuff-"

"or," niki interjected, "he's into byeol!"

jungwon flashed a glare at niki.

niki responded with a face that said, "what?"

heeseung pondered out loud, "that may be true, i did something similar with the girl i liked when i was part of the student council."

sunoo's mouth was agape, "ahhhhhh! that explains why he comes into our class and studies with byeol sometimes during our free periods! it all makes sense!"

"who in their right mind would actually be interested in the lunatic?" sunghoon remarked.

"you've got to admit that she occasionally looks cute."

sunghoon's ears tinged red, "jake..." he paused, "n-no i don't think that she's-"

"i'm just saying!" jake hollered as he pushed back his hair.

"can everyone shut up for a second? you guys are being overdramatic. school just started last week- how can he like me in a span of fourteen days?" i exhaustedly let out, ignoring jake's comment.

"you never know how someone truly feels byeol, you never know.." niki uttered.

i slapped his knee aggressively, "what do you know about love, niki?"

"trust me, i know more than you." he replied, his eyes fixed on something behind me.

i let out a final huff of annoyance. i always question how i managed to survive eighteen years with these brats.

"shoot, it's already 9:30! i'm gonna go to bed, i have early morning classes tomorrow. and so do you jake." jay got out of his seat and waved his hand at us as he left the room.

"tsch, i guess i'll get going too." jake said as he started bidding goodbyes. when he got to me, he pinched my cheeks hardly and ran out of the room with a cheeky smile before i could chase after him.

i rubbed the area where he pinched, whispering exaggerated cries of how much it hurt.

"i think it's time we all go, it's getting late. you guys still have school tomorrow, and i have to open up the café." heeseung stood up and clapped everyones shoulders.

"don't stay for too long!" he finally said as he exited.

niki ridiculed, "yes, father heeseung!"

"hey, is anyone going to watch the game tomorrow?" sunoo inquired. there was only five of us remaining. "i don't want to go alone."

"i have to go, the photography club needs to take pictures of the game." i nodded

sunoo put his two hands into a prayer position, "oh, thank the lord!"

"i'm coming too, a few of my classmates are players." niki said as he was beginning to leave, "jungwon and sunghoon, you guys should come along too, since you two are so curious about photography club president intak."

after saying that, the younger boy immediately took his leave. he didn't wait for any comments, he just yelled, "see you, tomorrow!" before he slammed the doorway.

sunghoon pointed out, "i think he left straight away because jungwon had a knife ready in his hand."

"no doubt about it, hoon." i said as i looked at an annoyed jungwon who was gripping his utensil in a very uncivil way.

"i'll come, unlike those biophysics majors, i don't have any classes tomorrow."

sunoo hooted, "good! that's good, hoon! how about you, wonnie?"

jungwon sighed, "fine. now we're done here. i'll walk you home, byeol."

sunghoon chimed, "walk her home? she lives down the street..."

jungwon pretended that he didn't hear sunghoon and moved over to me. he tried pulling me out of my place while i held onto sunoo's arm, "i'll go home only if sunoo's sleeping over! my dad's at the city again!"

"i'll stay at your house tonight, byeol! don't worry."

i let jungwon pull me up, while sunoo followed suit.

"your dad's not here again?"

"i just said that, hoon." i put my arms around sunoo and jungwon and started leading us out of the house.

"just know you can come over anytime- like always!" he called out in an uneasy tone from the dining area.

"noted!" i yelled back before sunoo closed the door behind us.

"my legs are tired, can someone carry me?" i immaturely begged.

"really? they're worn out from sitting down for two hours?" jungwon declared.

"let the girl be! you can piggyback on wonnie, byeol." sunoo beamed while ushering me to get on jungwon's back.

regardless of his displeasure, jungwon crouched down.

i jumped onto the rear part of his figure and wrapped my arms around his neck. he jumped a little as he made his posture straight again, "i actually need to stop babying you."

"i'm pretty sure you said that yesterday too." sunoo chuckled as we plodded back to my house.

taglist: @wonwobbles

a/n: this chapter is pretty long compared to the first one, so im a little proud of it! i wanted to show how byeol banters with the others and how their characters react to certain stuff to show their personality!!! heheheheh

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Chapter 5. We have stucky, we have stevesambucky friendship, we have a new place to live and strange being a good guy because tony definitely ranted at him. Also, we're beginning the creepy part of the plot. I have decided that sam will be one of the main platonic characters in this story because I love sam.

fun fact: I used to be a creepypasta writer! Going back to my roots here, hehe.

Things had stated changing, for better or worse, much sooner than I had been prepared for - but was anyone, ever, really ready for the next big step? Certainly not me - the view that greeted me after I'd finished my shift at Jeremy's was peculiar and unexpected, so I froze, eyebrows high at the two super-soldiers parked, once again, illegally, right in front of the entrance door.

"Hi, doll," Bucky was reclined against his boyfriend comfortably, his bike standing a pace behind Steve's, who nodded companionably, a sheepish grin on his face.

"G'day," I nodded, eyeing them warily. "I think I know where this is going..."

"No, no, nothing like that," both men frantically waved their hands around, Steve coming up close to approach me slowly. "You're not in trouble. I came out here to say thanks," giving a sappy look to the grouch that was his boyfriend, Steve reached into his pocket and handed me a slip of paper. "Just, uh..."

"Those are our phone numbers. Don't hesitate to give either one of us a call if someone bothers you," Bucky took over the stammering blonde, shaking his head at the soft blush that blossomed on the good captain's face. The brunette wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a shy smile of his own. "Or if you, I don't know, need someone to carry your groceries or something," he snorted. "The punk wouldn't leave it alone until we came out personally to thank you, the sap."

The laughter bubbled up from my chest as I grabbed and pocketed the paper, throughly amused and at the endearing gesture. "Sure, thanks."

"And, uh," Bucky's eyes briefly looked to the side. "We'd appreciate if you keep the status of our relationship to yourself for now. We're not, like, officially out yet."

I froze in place, mouth falling open. Surely they were aware that anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that they were much more than 'good, lifelong friends'. "No problem, guys. Lemme know if anyone gives you shit about it though, this place," I gestured to the café behind me, "is strictly paparazzi and homophobe-free."

Steve's grin grew even more genuine. "Yeah, we heard all about it from Tony and Stephen. Said 'twas the only place they go these days."

I wasn't aware of that. "It's the paps, isn't it?" I remembered Tony's remarks.

Bucky shook his head, the metals of his prosthetic arm whirring as it recalibrated. "Not only. The public hasn't had the best reaction to a man goin' out with a man," the brunette looked away to the side, where Steve's face had fallen considerably. "And Tony's an eccentric rich man. We're jus' two soldiers. The US Army won't be too happy if we... Came out," both men were crestfallen yet determined.

I had a hunch nothing would be able to separate the two - seeing as not even seventy-odd years and brainwashing and ice couldn't keep the captain and his sarge apart, I doubted that a few government weasels could successfully do the job. Even so, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to see them deny themselves something that technically was perfectly fine in the 21st century.

I chewed on my lip, gathering my wits. "I've clocked out, I can tell you this as a friend- as a person. You don't owe the army jack shit. They do not own you, you are your own person that they experimented their German knockoff steroids on. Respectfully, fuck that shit." I firmly stated my opinion, figuring that there should have been at least someone that told Steve that he is more than his star-spangled uniform and giant metal frisbee.

The blonde scrunched his eyebrows together, fingers gripping onto his belt until the knuckles went white, the hard line of his jaw set firm.

Bucky laugh took me by surprise. "Agreed, doll. I'm too old to be hiding in back alleys and shit," he clapped on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Although I'm happy enough with just not going to prison for bein' in love with this idiot."

"Jerk," Steve's responding pout was downright adorable now that I knew the circumstances surrounding their relationship.

Which wasn't exactly surprising. As a barista, I knew my fair share about my regulars' love lives, their jobs, their kids. The tea was almost always piping hot. "Bye, boys," I smiled at them warmly, throwing a glance at the time, adjusting the strap of my bag for comfort. "Stay outta trouble!"

Steve scrambled for his bike, having noticed my pointed gesture. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you back. There, I have a spare helmet," he gestured behind him. "I'll give you a ride."

"There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that death trap!" I shouted cheerfully, walking briskly towards my second job, hiding a laugh in the warmth of my scarf as two very offended motorcycle-loving gay fossils sped past me, making truly incredible amounts of noise. Good for them.

Odette was content to let me rummage around the bodega without showing herself more than necessary, taking her appointments and doing- well, witch stuff, I guess, only coming out to poke at the various jars for ingredients.

"Star, I have a proposition for you," right before closing time, Odette's voice filled out the store with its low drawl. "A good friend of mine owns an apartment building, not far from here actually, and one tenant recently moved out. It's a safe space for those who are different," she enunciated the last word, fixing it with a pointed stare. "She's not overly fond of total strangers coming to live there. The rent is reduced and the apartment itself is slightly bigger and more fashionable than yours..."

"Where's the catch?" I found myself interrupting her. I wouldn't lie: the reduced rent and increased size of the apartment did interest me, as well as the probability of a kinder, more involved landlord. My current one was - not the best, but such was life in the NYC.

"There are a few rules to follow, rules that might seem strange at first but they'll make sense in time. And your neighbors might be also a little... Unusual," Odette carefully studied my face for any signs of displeasure.

I sighed.

And then I sighed some more as I was signing my new lease in a few days' time, having spoken with Porter, my new landlord, and his boyfriend who had claws and fangs- after so much time spent around Odette's, I didn't even blink. The couple liked me enough to extend a secure but flexible offer and some furniture to choose from the attic where they kept the spares.

I quite liked the large, vintage couch I placed next to the wide bow windows in the living room. The floors were hardboard and well-kept, the walls a nice, homely shade of green and Porter didn't mind any new holes in them that might arise from hanging up decorations. I scheduled a thrift crawl at the next possible opportunity, happy with the "good employee" bonus Odette had given me after I sealed the deal.

My stuff was boxed up, a sleepless night and a call to a begrudging Jeremy to have a couple of days off to move; I was, thankfully, not late on my schedule and all that I had left was to rent a car to move the boxes of my things and the few pieces of furniture I had decided to keep - my haul in Porter's attic had been incredibly rewarding and my new apartment had all the basics to make it look like a warm, inviting bohemian home in a while.

My phone rang suddenly, startling interruption to the romcom I was watching as I ate my last lunch in my old apartment. "Hello?" I answered the number without looking.

"Hi, doll," Bucky's voice rang out cheerful. "A little witch told me you were moving. I thought you might need a hand?"

I blanked momentarily, the thought of enlisting two very busy super-soldiers to haul ten boxes and two endtables worth of stuff not having crossed my mind at all. "Is this the moment when you stop by my house just to unattach and put your prosthetic arm somewhere and leave?" I asked, hearing distinctive snickering - several more people were with him.

The cheer in his voice blossomed into a full belly laugh. "You're funny," he teased me. "And thanks for the idea. But no, I have a room full of men that have nothing better to do but get on my nerves. Might as well make 'em useful," his accented drawl thickened the more we spoke. Muted cheers rang out in the background.

"Uh, sure," who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I rattled off my address and warned them I didn't have a car, after which Bucky assured me it will be taken care of. The last remaining knick-knacks packed away, I went down to take out the trash, and returned to four people standing in front of my apartment building, all except one unrecognisable in their civilian clothes. "Hello," I waved at them, side-eyeing the tallest, grumpiest man of the bunch.

Stephen Strange was there, looking around curiously, hands in the pockets of his plain grey hoodie. I had already forgotten how normal he looked without his robes, and, frankly speaking, I preferred him like that. His title and the attire that came with it were quite intimidating.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned man who I recognised to be the Falcon, raised his hand. I had not met him yet. "I'm Sam, Sam Wilson. You must be the Star we're helping?" His quick once-over and the tilt to his lips; the ease with which he flirted had me brandishing smirks of my own. I led them all upstairs, Stephen's silence being just so loud. Sam, however, had no such reservations. "So, you're a witch, right?" Wow, subtlety was his middle name.

"Yes, I'll show you my broomstick," I deadpanned, wiggling my eyebrows at him with a grim look.

"Woah woah," Sam raised his hands as the three men behind us snickered loudly. "What happened to 'how are you? let's have dinner sometime'?"

I did my best imitation of an evil cackle as I let them through my front door. The four newcomers looked around my nearly empty apartment with muted interest before zeroing in on the pile of things in the corner: a few pieces of furniture and nearly taped boxes. Should be a walk in the park for four men.

A hand on my arm pulled me from the stupor of observing Sam, Bucky and Steve act like a well-oiled trio, bantering and teasing each other as they discussed how to best move the things.

"Look," Stephen Strange had all the appearance of a chastised puppy. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that day. I was out of line," the low notes in his voice made the appearance of the apology being somewhat reluctant. Tony probably put him to it after our little burger run.

Irregardless, I wasn't looking to make any enemies. "Me too, I was under stress - not that I'm using it as an excuse," to give where it's due, I nodded at the sorcerer, immediately awestruck by the easy, boyish smile that stretched on his lips.

"You are strong," he added. "If you would like to learn our ways, we would welcome you." There was a spark in his eyes, something belonging to man that respected and collected knowledge. My own respect for him grew immensely just from that one thing.

"I'll think about it," I offered amicably, however, I still leaned heavily towards a negative answer to that particular proposition. I liked my current way of life.

Strange's grin made a momentary second appearance, until Sam's voice rang loudly: "Fire in the hole, Wizard-man," causing the former to groan loudly and look at me.

"Think about your new place for a second," he spoke, briefly touching out fingertips. As soon as that was over, a golden circle with my new living room on the other side of it appeared quietly, Strange's hands immediately going back into his pockets after that. I sighed and pointed the men into it, stepping in a second after. The sorcerer wasn't far behind. "You could learn that, too, you know," he added wryly, having seen my look of mild envy directed at him.

"I think I'll be good with having the 'pissed off the sorcerer Supreme and lived' pass for now," I retorted with an eyeroll, turning around to stare him down.

He had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, at least. "I'm not like my predecessor," his words were chosen carefully. "And, to be honest, I have no clue as to why your... Boss is so hostile towards me- us," Strange looked around the room before unceremoniously beelining for the couch and plopping down on it.

"Not to be a gossip," I started, slightly intrigued. "But Odette and some lady she called ancient had mad beef," I slipped into casual language easily, trying to recall the details of Odette's, quite often jumbled, stories. "Sounded almost like territorial disputes," I shrugged. "And the apprentices Odette took on before me found themselves in all kinds of compromising situations," I chewed on my lip. "Like the Arctic."

Strange rubbed his face with a noisy groan, large hands doing nothing to mask the resignation and slight embarrassment.

I focused on the thin, red scars on his hands - they had to have been something serious, the way slight tremors betrayed the deteriorating state of the nerves in his fingers. I frowned, quickly averting my gaze before he could catch me ogling him. The fact thag Stephen kept his hands in his pockets or covered by gloves at all times didn't go over my head.

He muttered something to himself, something that sounded like he was often forced to clean up his predecessor's mess. "I see," was the only thing he'd offered me, looking slightly pitiful and apologetic.

"Well," I started, noting the last of my stuff was about to be in its rightful place, "as long as you don't toss me into the ocean, I think we can coexist peacefully."

"Tony would kill me if I'd tried," Stephen groused.

"Probably," I agreed. "Considering the fact he hit on me, for you, it would make one hell of a lover's quarrel," my hand pointed towards the kitchen as Steve and Sam carried in the boxes aptly labeled "kitchen", looking around a place to put them down.

"Tony did what now?" Stephen's tone dropped, a wry smirk decorating his lips as he eyed me through his lashes.

"Don't ask me," I raised my palms, feeling my eyes widen. "He's chaos personified and Satan only knows what he's got on his mind."

That squeezed a laugh out of the tall man, followed by a fond, sappy smile as he looked out of my large, panoramic window, probably thinking of Tony himself. There was no doubt, Stephen Strange was utterly and throughly head over heels in love with Tony Stark. Good for them, good for them.

"A-and that's it," Bucky walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel I'd provided them earlier. "I took some liberties and assembled the furniture, Steve is stacking the dishes as we speak," the brunette noisily plopped down next to me, arm carelessly thrown behind me on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um," I stammered, unused to such random gestures of kindness. "Thanks a lot, you saved me a day's worth of time and a backache," I smiled, scooting over to make some room for Sam.

"No problem, not like we had anything better to do than argue which part of the Lord of the Rings is the best," Wilson rolled his eyes, elbowing Bucky none-too-gently.

Bucky elbowed back, thus starting a horsing war between the two, causing me to scoot closer to Stephen as I attempted to avoid any flailing limbs; the sorcerer and I shared an identical, perplexed sigh as to how two grown men could easily bait each other into such juvenile behaviour.

Whatever. It was kind of endearing.

Steve emerged from the kitchen dusty but smiling, having heard the commotion, and quickly herded his guys into a semblance of decent behaviour before all of three of them left, leaving me and Stephen to go back to my old apartment and give the keys to it to the guard. That was done, too, and a portal from an alley behind my old building straight into my living room had me and Strange awkwardly hovering, saying out goodbyes and waving to each other as the golden circle rapidly shrunk in size and disappeared, golden sparks scattering across my living room carpet for a short second before they fizzled out, too.

I used the brief moment of respite to find the small piece of paper containing the rules Porter had insisted I read and take seriously; figuring it might be a good idea to give them a read before beginning to unpack, I popped open a bottle of soda, holding the itemized list written in neat cursive to my face.

The further I read, the further my eyebrows rose:

"1. Keep your door locked at all times.

2. If a person knocks on your door claiming to be the mail man, do not open the door under any circumstances. You are free to ignore the knocking - it only lasts a minute or so. After the person has left, you may open the door and check for any packages.

3. If Samantha from 3B visits you and asks you to babysit, you may do so at your personal discretion. Her twins are a handful and their daily habits are not for the ones with a weak stomach, however, they mean nothin ill and will not harm you in any way.

4. Do not use the elevator between the hours of 1 and 4 AM.

5. There are no apartments under number "7". If someone claiming to be from those apartments knocks on your door and requests entry, come up with a polite excuse to decline and send me a text message. I will take care of it.

6. There is no garden on the premises of this building. If a man approaches you, claiming to be a gardener, don't interact with him and simply walk away. He will leave you alone.

7. You may meet a girl in a polka-dot dress playing in the hallways or in the stairwell. This is Lucy. Always be polite to Lucy - you won't like what will happen if you're rude to her. She does not talk but she knows limited ASL and may request to visit you. Allow her in ONLY if you have fresh meat in your fridge (beef or mutton, preferably bloody). You might want to avoid seeing her eat, however, it might be very beneficial to make friends with Lucy. She knows a lot of things.

8. If, when taking the stairs, you encounter inconsistent numeration of the floors, such as floor 2 followed by floor 5 and etc, simply walk a flight back. It will sort itself out. The building is old and sometimes it gets confused.

Important notice: these rules apply to your guests as well. Please make sure to introduce and educate them on these matters. We will help as much as we can should a situation arise but ultimately, there are fates far worse than an untimely, however swift, death.

- Porter and Lance."

A slow, creeping dread began to gnaw at my nape, curling on like a cold snake deep in chest. As if laughing at me, the warm, welcoming embrace of the green walls and the toothy, wide smiles my landlords had given me encouraged my recently found sense of adventure, all of it mixing into a cacophony of exhilaration and unease, equally steadily driving my running brain insane.

I sighed again, immediately going to the box containing my altar and the rest of the protective items. So much for peace.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #ironstrange x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x y/n #Stephen Strange x you #tony stark x you

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spiltscribbles · 4 years

Note

Oooh! Prompts! Remus and Sirius moving in together please! 💛

Notes: Thank you SO SO much gorgeous<3 I’m like kinda embarrassed that this is kinda shit, especially because you’re writing is so fucking gorgeous, so I’m sorry.

A Reblog Is Worth A Thousand Stars | Send Me A Prompt

“YOU!”

With a start that almost makes him drop the vase in his hands, Sirius turns around to find his surly looking boyfriend glaring daggers straight at him, lips pursed and nose wrinkled ever so fetchingly. “Me?”

“You!”

“ Is this a Muggle game of semantics or something Moons, because for the life of me I’m not following.”

Remus’s glower only deepens, radiating a distinct sort of disapproval that could only ever be honed in by years of prefectness. “You thief!” He squawks, hands perched on his hips, and mouth twisted up mutinously.

“Is this the part where you say I stole your heart?” Sirius goads with a cocked brow, resuming their unpacking. “Because love, that line gets old after the millionth recital, but I do appreciate the spirit.”

“Wha? Na—no that is not what I was going to say you egotistical prick!” Remus scoffs— just a bit flustered with a dusting of pink touching the tops of his sharp cheekbones. “You ate the last spring role!” He accuses emphatically, almost tripping over the over a dozen boxes that are strewn across their newly furnished living room. Sirius can’t help but be endeared by Remus and his everythingness.

“Yes, yes I did Wise Guy,” He confirms distractedly. “I also dipped it into some spicy mustard and drank a bottle of water while I was at it… Your point being?”

“My point you utter berk is that it was mine! I called dibs!”

“I remember no such thing,” Sirius sniffs haughtily, moving to rearrange the photographs on their mantel. (And yeah, it’s still fucking insane to him that he’s become so domestic that he’s got a mantel over the fireplace that the man he loves more than any other had insisted was absolutely crucial to have if they were to move in together—probably for really romantical love making sessions in front of it’s flames with the bliss of no worries of anyone barging in on them, or griping if they were being to loud—Which by the way, James honestly had no right in complaining about considering his track record with his and Lily’s on again, off again mating ritual.

“Liar!" Sirius honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Remus started stomping his feet right about now, and pouting up a storm if the childishly cross expression on his pretty face is anything to go by. (And honestly how could one man be so adorable and sexy all at once.) “You were finishing up the shrimp tempura— because you are a posh idiot without any tastebuds— , and I said that I’ll be right back to get some of the boxes in the spare room, and to save it for me! And then I come here, and I find this! This breach of all we’ve built together!”

Sirius barely conceals his snort. “Is that right? The foundations of our whole, entire bloody relationship? And right after this afternoon, when I made you—“

Two spots of color blotch high on Remus’s cheeks and he cuts him off before Sirius can completely recount the frankly remarkable romp they had just finished with before deciding they needed some nourishment before getting back to unpacking. “Don’t you try to change the subject you stealing stealer who steals!”

“That insult leaves something to be desired Moonbeam.”

“You’re a prick.”

“And you wound me!” Sirius mock sobs, slamming his fist against his chest and swinging back his arm against his forehead. “A plague on you, and your family! And another on your family’s cow.”

Remus’s face morphs into his painfully unimpressed expression, (Hint, it’s very, very flat). “I’ll take your intentional dodge as an admission,” He scoffs, arms crossed tight against his chest.

“I admit nothing!” Sirius shouts in an overdone accent that would better fit the set of Downton Abbey. “Nothing Lupin!”

Remus rolls his eyes at Sirius’s hyperbolic attitude, and okay. Yes. Perhaps Sirius remembers a similar conversation akin to what Remus had described occurring only ten minutes prior. But to be quite honest, Sirius was hardly listening. Remus’s got on one of Sirius’s oversized t-shirts, a pair of boxer-briefs, and nothing else. So yeah, he should definitely not be expected to be paying anything any mind while his beyond gorgeous boyfriend is sitting there, impossibly long legs put out for display, and one perfectly alabaster shoulder bare where the shirt has slipped right off, effectively derailing Sirius's thoughts to how he’d teasingly kissed across his collar bone just earlier that night, nibbling on the hinge of his jaw while Remus had been writhing beneath him. so Really and truly, he should’ve never been expected to remember anything— let alone something as trivial as dibs— if his utterly perfect partner is right there for the taking, a determined dent between his brows, and intermittently rinsing his hand through his disheveled locks of hair like spun gold, excited over the prospect of fixing up this flat that is now their home.

Dear Merlin above does Sirius love this bloke with every fiber of his being.

“Well,” he relents, swaggering up closer to Remus so that they’re standing only inches apart. “Even if I did remember that such a discussion had taken place how you’ve described it—“

“It did, and you know it Black!” He harrumphs, using Sirius’s surname just to get a rise out of him.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now love, is There?.”

Sirius’s sure that he’s won the argument and they could just move on, until he catches the glint in Remus’s impossibly luminous eyes—a glint that always means trouble, a glint that’s never failed to make each one of Sirius’s nerve endings go ablaze.

“Is that right?”

“I reckon it is Moonbeam,” he leers, is momentarily distracted by the downright angelic smile Remus casts his way right then, but suddenly, an onslaught of fingers are piercing into his ribs, wiggling and tickling him into submission.

“Say you’re sorry!” Remus demands, an effortless grin of his own swept across his lovely face, brighter than the morning sun. And yeah, maybe Sirius should just admit that it was his bad, apologize a thousand times over in the form of lingering kisses and caressing hands.… But the thing is, Sirius’s stubbornness has always been too rigid for his own good, and he’s always loved prodding at Remus till He just went off like the world’s most darling firecrackers.

“Never you absolute wanker!”

“I won’t relent till you profess an apology to my satisfaction,” Remus scoffs— a playful giggle lilting his overly formal words.

“And I won’t surrender!” He parries with a leer. Sirius tickles back harder, and Remus shimmies around so much that He ends up jabbing him in the eye, ramming straight into his chest, and effectively sprawling them—all long limbs and crooked angles—onto the wooden floorboards.

“Just say you’re sorry!” He insists, strangled laughter starting to gargle his words while Sirius just gazes down at him, mercilessly besotted.

“”S not my fault you didn’t take it with you Lupin, i’ve committed no grievance.”

“Oh come off it pretty boy.”

“Oy! I’m ruggedly handsome you arse!”

“Testy, testy.”

“You’re the pretty one.”

“Oh suck my cock.”

“Been there done that.”

Remus seems to be fighting down another laugh before he knees him lightly in the abdomen enough that Sirius tenses, giving Remus the chance to switch their positions once again, so that He’s back on top.

“My have the tables turned,” He taunts with one of his most dazzling smiles, dimples in full effect, and crinkles around his pretty sea glass eyes.

“I like how you think I’m at all opposed to this position,” Sirius says with a pixilated gleam, arching back enough so that their cotton clad dicks buck up against each other.

“Perv!” Remus scolds, smacking his chest playfully. “Now admit that I won!”

“Never!”

Somehow, amidst all the thrashing bodies and choked peals of laughter, Sirius flips him over— slight body beneath his own, with Remus’s wrists pinned over his head and his legs wrapped around Sirius’s waste.

“Now, now Monsieur Moony, I reckon that spring has rolled into winter for you,” Sirius most definitely does not laugh raucously at his own pun.

“That’s not even the direction that the seasons go in,” Remus frowns, nose wrinkled indelicately, a tell Sirius’s picked up on whenever He’s mad over an outcome.

“You still lost though,” Sirius barbs with no real bite, pecking a quick kiss to his lips in solace.

“You’re awful, and I’m breaking up with you,” Remus sniffs in turn—wiggling underneath him to try and get loose.

“Oh, you love me really.” Sirius preens like the cat who’s caught the canary— the world’s most beautiful and brilliant and ruffled canary that is.

“Lies and slander!” Remus waggles his tongue between his teeth, and Sirius dips down to bite it teasingly.

“Hmm, now isn’t this cute,” the pair scramble away from each other, utterly stunned once spotting Lily of all people, gaze twinkling and lips set into a firm smirk, eyeing them while leisurely lounging against the door frame.

“You two really can’t keep yr sodding hands off of each other, can you?”

Remus completely reddens, totally flustered, while Sirius only follies back a smug sort of grin at the force of nature that is Lily Evans, his practical sister-in-law, remus’s best friend, and all around genius.

“How long have you been watching Red dearest,” Sirius asks wryly, making it so now Lily’s the one who’s flushing..

“I hate you Black.” She says shortly, and Sirius’s beam doesn’t falter. “Re, as your spiritual older sister—“

“You’re barely a month older Lils,” Remus interjects, but Lily just goes on as if he hadn’t.

“I think it’s my job to remind you that he’s not the only bloke in London with a decent shoulder to waste ratio and nice hair. We can snag you someone with a bit of brains even.”

Sirius tosses her a V shaped salute, and Lily sticks her tongue out in retaliation, but for his part, Remus only tries to cut through the tension with one of his friendlier grins, though it just comes out as an awkward grimace. “I forgot that you’re dropping off the boxes tonight.”

“Evidently Ace,” she snorts, strutting further into the apartment and setting down the box of photos Remus had asked her to bring over from their old place. “Far too busy snogging with the boy who single handedly received the most detentions in Hogwarts history, while also, somehow— by the grace of God— threatened our stances as top of the class.”

“Oy Evans, can’t take all the credit for myself. Jem was my better half, till he moved on to the likes of you.”

Lily ignores him, save for the way her pretty face gets a bit scrunched out of irritation. “Ace, I ask you, what would McGonagall say if she saw her favorite prefect gallivanting around with such a delinquent.

Remus lets out one of his rare and beautiful laughs, something that feels buoyant and is really more breath than sound, but is still so vibrant and splendid and it never fails to thrust Sirius back to the Hogwarts Express, where he and Remus had first met as a couple of wide eyed eleven year olds, and all the contradicting emotions Remus had provoked upon first sight. Wonder, and confusion. Intrigue, and diffidence. Wanting, and fear. It’s an attribute of Remus's that Sirius will never not be amazed by.

“Ah, Minnie my love, how I do miss her so, now where were we Moonbeam?”

“I’m still standing here Black,” Lily reproves with a scoff.

“I think it was about here,” Sirius continues, dipping down to kiss at Remus’s protruding collar bones.

“Settle down mutt,” Remus rebukes with no real heat, a gentle hand carding through Sirius’s hair.

“God, you two are already an old married couple.”

“You really do know the best moments to interrupt sweetheart.” Sirius snipes with a playful roll to his eyes, his hand discretely resting over the small of Remus’s back.

“And you have no decency, corrupting Remus the way that you do.”

“Okay first, I take fucking offense, you know better than me that Moony here was the mastermind behind most of our delightful pranks.”

“You mean your childish inconveniences you plagued on the unsuspecting public?”

“And secondly, we didn’t even get to the fun, currupting part because of your oh so lovely interruption.” Sirius retorts moodily, though he soon suspects the joke was a wrong play to make when Lily’s smile suddenly goes predatory and sHe flips back a lock of her wind blown curls, ready to pounce.

“Well perhaps I just stopped by to make sure you weren’t further defiling my dear Remus. But I guess that giant love bite on your neck proves that I’m too late.”

Sirius can’t help the chuckle that pours out of his lips at her needled observation, smacking a hand to conceal the hickey sHe’s taunting him about, knowing exactly where it is, it’s been a topic of teasing all morning long from a smug Sirius to a properly indignant Remus.

“He-he just marks easily,” Remus pipes out, cheeks completely infused red and worrying on his bottom lip. Sirius suspects that Lily just knew that the one chink in his armor is prodding at Remus’s less than poised acts.

Lily rolls her eyes in a way that convinces Sirius that sHe doesn’t believe it for a second. “Whatever you say oh Saint Remus,” sHe smirks with no more argument. “but pray tell, are you guys about done swapping spit around me? Or is that going to forever be a regular occurrence in the Remus and Sirius show?”

“Now I’d reckon that’ll get a sold out crowd every night, don’t you?” Sirius asks, directing his question at the pair of of them while taking Remus’s hand, and pushing him even closer— just always preferring to have some sort of contact with him.

“Oh put a sock in it,” Remus harrumphs, finally starting to return to his normal coloring in the midst of Lily’s unrestrained cackles.

“Aw, don’t be shy love, it’s only the truth.”

Remus presses the pads of his fingers to Sirius’s lips and glares at him for good measure, “Some things are better left for private.”

“Hah,” Lily scoffs, weight slung to her left hip. “As if I don’t get a front row seat every time you two are within even in a ten foot radius of each other—OH hey, I know that look Ace! The one eyed squint, and the teeth. Well your “I’m about to kill my gorgeous best friend,” look has no place here, i’ll see my way out now. Just promise not to christen every room in this place, kay? We’d all like to visit without the residual specs haunting us! And I know how moody you get without your daily dose of my scintillating company.”

Sirius thinks that Remus’s trying to skewer a whole in the spot where Lily was just standing, if the terribly cross look on his face says anything. It’s precious, Sirius can’t help but snicker.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake! You’re s’pose to be on my side!”

“I wasn’t laughing at you Moons,” he kisses the fingers Remus has still got on his mouth, mock consolatory. “Just incredibly turned on.”

That dent between Remus’s brows is back again for a moment, but then his beauteous features smoothen out and He just pecks a quick kiss to Sirius’s lips before rifling through the box Lily brought over, muttering a light,”Whatever,” as He does so.

There’s a quick wrapping to the window, and Sirius glances over to find his owl— Odysseus— with a bundle of letters attached to his left leg. By rote, Sirius feeds him some of the pellets they keep there for convenience, and unwinds the bundle of parchments, beginning to shuffle through them.

There’s a copy of the Nightly prophet with the murder of another Muggle family splattered all over the front cover in a sickeningly gauche manner, a free trial subscription to the Quibbler with a reading for Scorpios in the month of October, a letter from Peter about his mum and sisters driving him up the rails, an invitation from Marlene for he and Remus to come out to dinner with them for Dorcas’s Birthday, and a ominous letter from James of all paper that simply says a gift for Moony.

Bewildered to why he hadn’t just sent it along with Lily, Sirius tares off the attached photograph only to find something truly, horrendously vile. a photograph of himself. One that was definitely taken fifth year— Sirius’s worst year where he absolutely could not stand being around his family for a moment longer, and James was getting more settled with his studies, an Remus was dating that prefect prick from Ravenclaw and was exceedingly elusive from Marauders nights out. This was so obviously taken on one of those aforementioned nights out that it’s comical. Sirius’s hair is as long as it’s ever been— touching the tops of his shoulders— and he’s chugging down a fruity, pink concoction— the type that Rosmerta was always cooking up for them— hand over fist, and he’s got on puppy ears and a fake nose. In layman’s terms he looks like a complete and total pillock. Drunk off his ass so much so that you can see the stars in his eyes even through the clunky glasses he had stolen from James— convinced that he was sporting them for purely esthetic reasons and not because the knob is actually as blind as a bloody bat— and his finger is pointed and mouth is open in the way it always is when he’s ranting about something or the other.

It’s perhaps the only photograph in history where Sirius isn’t looking his typical, jaw dropping gorgeous self.

There’s about a thousand different retorts he wants to scribble on a spare parchment and shoot right back to James— ranging from nasty to downright despicable— but then he catches the familiar peal of laughter coming from behind him. He’s not surprised when he sees Remus—beautiful, ingenuous, perfect Remus who’s physically incapable of taking a photograph less than effortlessly lovely, even while pissed— peering over his shoulder in utter amusement.

“Oh My God I need to ask James to send me one of the hundreds of copies he surely has.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sirius retorts darkly.

“I’ll use an enlarging charm and hang it up above the mantel, for prosperity. The one time Sirius looks the way he acts,” he moves his hand over an invisible marquee and looks so damn smug that Sirius could kiss him, and in fact, that’s exactly what he does.

“I hate him,” is all he says afterwards, once he’s pulled away.

“I can’t believe that’s you!” Remus continues with eyes full of mirth.

“I want to banish him, no. No I want to banish all of them. All of our friends, we can make knew ones Moons. I mean look at us! We’re a catch!” He tosses the letters onto the newly acquired sofa as if they have personally affronted him and all he stands for.

“ Oh brilliant idea love.”

“That sounds like your sarcastic voice Moons.”

“No, you’ve got my full support. this’s our castle Pads, we can banish whom ever we like,” Remus balances on his tiptoes, and smacks an exasperated kiss onto his cheek. Sirius can barely contain the glee that’s dancing in his eyes at the thought of this being their own personal castle— a fortress just for the pair of them to escape within— causing another swell of fondness to pound in his chest.

“Well maybe we can give’m another chance,” he relents, melting into how Remus’s locked his arms around his neck, and is smiling up at him with all the love in the world shining unadulteratedly in his lovely eyes. “I mean they did help us move all those boxes and all.”

Remus hums his agreement while he presses his forehead against his own, endlessly endeared.

“What a generous king,” He goads, words hugged with fondness.

“Ooo, I like that, call me that in bed and I might bless you with my royal sector.”

Remus thumps his nose, “Your more tolerable when you don’t speak and just stand there being pretty.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty Moonykins?”

Remus shakes his head ruefully, the smile on his face one that Sirius knows well— one that means he’s reluctantly endeared. “Dork.”

“Plonker.”

There lips meet for another kiss and it feels like all the resplendence in the galaxy being distilled between just the two of them.

#Wolfstar #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #marauders #spilt ink #sugarplums #kattlupin #so totally completely fluff #RIP #life's been total shit this week #so I guess this is a thing #I'm sorry sweets

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a-duck-with-a-book · 3 years

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REVIEW // Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle, #1) by Jay Kristoff

★☆☆☆☆

So I’m very late to the party, but I just finished reading Nevernight by Jay Kristoff I had such high hopes for this series based off of what people recommending it had told me and what I read about it before picking up. Dark fantasy? Check. Strong leading lady? I’m here for it. Gays? It’s literally my only personality trait. Sign me up. Unfortunately, this book fell flat in all those categories. It reminded me a lot of Sarah J. Maas’s Throne of Glass, which made me take one point off of to begin with simply for making me think of Maas’s writing. Overall, I just found the book to be too predictable, with bad writing, exposition, and pacing, and too many parts that just made me ~uncomfortable~.

In case you are not familiar with this novel, Nevernight tells the story of Mia Corvere, a girl who lost her family when she was a child after her father was convicted of treason. When the book begins, she is 16 years old and embarking on a journey to join the Red Church, a school for assassins, so that she may one day be able to avenge her father’s death. Along the way she meets a bunch of forgettable characters whose names I can’t be bothered to remember and is taught by the most fearsome killers in the Republic. Here she gains many valuable skills, like how to survive being poisoned, how to fight, and how to get big boobs.

+ Side note: by chapter 3 three I started picturing Mia as the crow guy from RWBY and I could not shake that for the rest of the book

I had many issues with this novel that I will try to summarize in some sort of coherent fashion, but to be honest this book sucked the will to live out of me so I don’t know how much energy I can put into this review.

// image: official cover art by Jason Chan //

FOOTNOTES

The footnotes were probably the most jarring element of the book for me, and, unfortunately, there’s a lot of them. Their function seems to be twofold:

they are the form of most of the world-building, explaining several customs, the history of the institutions and peoples Mia meets, and the mythology followed by the people of the Republic.

they allow for the narrator of our story to interrupt with comical one-liners or cryptic foreshadowing

In my humble opinion, both of these are unnecessary and stupid. The interruptions come off as crass and immature and make the other more textbook, boring exposition come off as a joke, especially when it is dealing with sensitive or serious topics. There is one that explains this brothel called the Seven Flavors, which the footnote explains refer to “Boy, Girl, Man, Woman, Pig, Horse, and, if sufficient notice and coin was given, Corpse.” Now, on its own, this passing mention of pedophilia, bestiality, and necrophilia could very well contribute to the world building and tone of the novel, but when placed side by side with the childish, joking tone of the “cue the violiiiiiiiins” or, regarding the acoustics of a room, “…they were, as it happens, exceptional. Falalalalalalaaaaaaaa”, come off as way too light-hearted for the topic at hand. Maybe I’m being way too sensitive, but I’m pretty tired of authors using serious topics as off-hand remarks as a lazy way to make their world daker and grittier. Plus, these footnotes were just so incredibly cringy that I would recoil from second-hand embarrassment every time. They resemble the things I wrote when I was 14 and trying (and miserably failing) to be funny. Also… there are way too many of them. While at first I appreciated the attempt to deepen the lore of the story (I’m a sucker for world-building), after a while it became evident that the author was just forcing information down our throats without taking the time to actually weave the lore and background into the story itself. It came off as a very lazy way to force exposition.

OVERLY FLOWERY LANGUAGE

This story is BRIMMING with similes and metaphors, like every other sentence is some overly complicated way to describe something that could have been presented in three words. When you include so many metaphors/similes/etc., they begin to lose power. They should allow the reader to extrapolate more meaning and emotion from a sentence, but if the book is bursting at the seams with them, they become increasingly ordinary, to the point of losing all of their luster. One prime example appears on page 30:

“It was a bucktoothed little shithole, and no mistake. Not the most miserable building in all creation. [here there is a footnote about some other inn/brothel] But if the inn were a man and you stumbled into him in a bar, you’d be forgiven for assuming he had—after agreeing enthusiastically to his wife’s request to bring another woman into their marriage bed—discovered his bride making up a pallet for him in the guest room.”

So first of all what the fuck is that supposed to mean? That whole paragraph is a fever dream. Let’s begin with “bucktoothed little shithole”. Bucktoothed? Really? What does that mean. Please, someone explain to be right now what a bucktoothed building is. Is it uneven? Is it awkward? Is it half-finished? Is one side longer than the other? Did they do a bad paint job that only covers on side? Are the windows askew? Is the door too big for its frame? We already know from the paragraph above that it is “disheveled” as well, so why the need for another weird phrasing of its appearance? We then move on to that whole JOURNEY of a sentence, where the inn is compared to a man being cuckolded. That is the most insane tale-can you imagine running into someone in a bar and that story being the VERY FIRST thing that runs through your mind??? I know I’m focusing way too much on this stupid paragraph, but basically what I am trying to get at is that even though we spend half a page talking about how bucktoothed and disheveled and cuckolded this building is, we get no actual physical description of it. Imagine if Kristoff had just written that it was a run-down, ill-kept building that looked as worse for wear as its owner did. Done, one sentence. Great. Let’s move on. Instead, we spend so long reading these absolutely batshit descriptions that ultimately tell us next to nothing. Flowery language is placed over actual context. You may think that a description this long and complex means that this inn is a significant or recurring setting in the novel. Nope. It’s not. Mia leaves and that’s that. The reason that I’m focusing so much on this objectively irrelevant paragraph is because it is so representative of the biggest issue I have with the writing in this book. There are so many unnecessary comparisons that function only to make the author feel clever rather than add anything to the story at all. It’s very à la 2010s Tumblr.

THE (IN MY OPINION, BAD) WRITING

For the first half of the book, we are constantly being TOLD things rather than being SHOWN things. With the exception of one of the teachers cutting off Mia’s arm, we rarely see the ruthlessness that the assassins are so feared for, but we hear about it in nearly every other sentence Where are the consequences? I think this book would have been way more enjoyable if there were actually consequences to the characters’ actions. The inclusion of the weaver and the weird vampire guy completely remove any tension regarding the fate of the central cast. When Mia had her arm chopped off, I was shocked, and pleasantly surprised. How was she going to overcome this unexpected obstacle in her training? Then a couple pages later, its reattached with absolutely no lasting consequences. All of the initial tension and shock value of the loss of Mia’s arm is entirely removed because of the two incest-y siblings. Their entire purpose for existing is just to undo all damage to the main characters. Then suddenly, out of the blue, Mia is willing to take on a ton of consequences and completely throw away her chance at becoming initiated in order to avenge her family just to save Tric from receiving like one punishment??? Like why?? As an aside, the only moment I truly enjoyed was when Ash fucking stabbed Tric to death. I assume that when the reader’s favorite moment is one of the central characters’ death, it does not bode well for their reception of the book.

THE THEMES

TW: rape-y subjects

The author seemed a little too keen to include rape and sexual assault in his story. Mia withdrew her consent in the sex scene in the very first chapter, and even if you read it as consensual (which I do not), it is described as incredibly unpleasant on her end. Tric is the result of a rape, which is brought up several times throughout the story. Further, Mia is constantly facing harassment from men. I understand that this is frames the idea that the world she lives in is misogynistic and ruthless, but there are other ways to push that idea through other than constantly putting in her in those situations. As in, this didn’t need to be the ONLY way we explored this subject. Beyond the uncomfortable propensity for sexual assault, I also very much disliked the sexualization of the 16-year-old main character. Oh. My. Gosh. Mia is CONSTANTLY sexualized. Every single damn character makes comments about her body, how hot she is, how much sex she potentially has. It is so weird and uncomfortable. I feel the need to reiterate that she is SIXTEEN. There is, however, a focus placed on the power Mia can gain from seducing her targets. Girl power? Not to me, really. The issue I have with this is the idea that a woman has to be overtly sexual in order to be considered powerful. This is something that we can see in many female assassins and supposedly powerful female characters in fiction (like Black Widow) especially those written by men. Now, there is nothing wrong with using one’s sexuality as a weapon, and I’m certainly not saying that a strong female character cannot be sexual, but the idea that a sixteen-year-old girl is shown having her body painfully modified tp be more desirable, and in a graphic sex scene with another character, in order to for the reader to read her as liberated and powerful does not sit well with me. I don’t really feel like this aspect of her training should be relevant to the overall story. I wish the time that Kristoff had dedicated to hammering into our heads that Mia is a femme fatale to developing her Darkin powers instead. The way she is written now feels more like she is a faux strong female character written for a male audience.

Secondly, Mia is fully written as “the plain-girl-who-is-actually-pretty”. This whole trope bothers me IMMENSELY. YA is full of girls who are described as plain, forgettable, or ugly while their physical descriptions are just the dictionary definition of conventionally attractive. It seems like a way to market off of girls’ self-consciousness while still being able to market the main character as a hot heroine in official art. And there is, of course, the issue of Mia’s boob job Readwithcindy (just “withcindy” now!) did a whole video about this so I won’t get into it much just to repeat what she already said, but I agree that the idea of a 30-something year old man including this completely unnecessary detail regarding the sexualization of teenage girl, who we have ALREADY seen in a rape and being sexualized by other men in the story, made me really, really, uncomfortable. I highly recommend you go watch her video, as she touches on this in way more detail. [Cindy's video

RATINGS

Worldbuilding: ★★☆☆☆

A lot of thought obviously went into the world-the mythology, society, and politics are well-thought out. But the way they are introduced is annoying and bland. It seems like the author put a lot of effort into constructing this world but realized a lot of it would be left out of the book, so he crammed it into footnotes instead.

Tone and writing style: ★☆☆☆☆ for first half, ★★★☆☆ for second half

The tone of the first half is all over the place, like it doesn’t know if it should be dark and gritty or comical and immature. Footnotes and character dialogue ranges from lighthearted and crass to seeped with themes of torture and sexual assault. It is jarring, to say the least, and often feels like the author doesn’t take these ideas of rape or violence seriously. There are so many instances where the scene is tense or gritty, and Kristoff is actually writing it pretty well, I’m enthralled and on the edge of my seat, and then Mia or some other character (or the footnotes) throw in some stupid comment or make the same “Mia is such an asshole lol” joke for the billionth time and completely ruin the mood of that scene. The second half of the book moved much faster and was helped with way better writing, but it really did not do enough to make up for the horrendous structure of the first half of the book.

Pacing and structure: ★☆☆☆☆

The first half of the book really drags on. Once we arrive at the school, there are constant jumps in timeline, marked with periods when a thousand things happen all at once and the plot moves forward at a dizzying rate, and others when the characters just seem to be going about their daily lessons.

Concept: ★★★☆☆

I found the overall idea of the books to be very interesting, even though it is certainly not the most original or unique concept for a YA fantasy book. The issue is that the potential is squandered with a poor execution.

Characters: ★☆☆☆☆

I truly did not care about any of the characters. The token mean girl, the bumbling nice-guy-who-is-definitely-the-love-interest. too many of the characters just sat nicely within their tropes, doing nothing much to pique my interests. I think my favorite overall was Mister Kindly.

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raziroo · 3 years

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Chapter 3 | I Am Not At All Wise

Pairing: There's hints, but none

Genre: Angst?

Warnings: Overly Casual Mentions of Depression and Anxiety, Mentions of Trading of Lives

Word Count: 1,926

Author's Note: This might appear a little rushed, because I got this sudden surge of inspiration and sat down to write this and this isn't even proofread. Sorry, hehe.

‘Guys, what’s wrong with you?! This my father we’re talking about, my father! Why are you so hesitant to trade him for Lotor?’

The tense energy in the room only became even more suffocating when Pidge let that question, among others, loose like cannonballs. I was glad I was sitting even a bit away from the ongoing discussion, because the questions and not up to par answers were succeeding in making me uncomfortable. After all, the topic at hand wasn’t light at all – a topic such as trading of lives is one that questions your morals, your beliefs, literally everything you, as a person, stand for. I stared at Pidge, her absolutely enraged expression making me gulp nervously`. If Pidge didn’t get her father back now, after finding out his destination, then God knows how many shots are going to get fired at whom. And although I’m not saying that Pidge is wrong, she isn’t even right.

That’s confusing.

What I meant to say was, that although Pidge’s actions and fury and incredulousness were fully justified, it didn’t mean that we could all just nod heads in tandem and send Lotor off as some sort of pig for slaughter in exchange of Pidge’s dad. It wasn’t fair.

As my eyes lost focus, I recalled Captain America’s words – we don’t trade lives.

I snapped out of my thoughts. I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t, ultimately. Heading to my room now instead of just sitting there and making myself look like an unopinionated fool wasn’t helping me anyways, and neither was Lotor’s presence a couple feet beside me.

I decided to head to my room.

After all, that was what I was best at, wasn’t it? After finally accepting that I was a time traveler and couldn’t ever see my friends or family ever again and that aliens did actually exist, and not just on Mars (wait, did aliens exist on Mars? I never asked that), all I did for a good sum of time was hide in my room. Activities except hiding in my room included roaming through the castle and running to my room as soon as I deducted any trace of intelligent life near me, being strangely intimate with the white lion – intimacy including venting about how I was probably depressed, possibly had anxiety, caressing the lioness because she’s beautiful, and nestling in her cockpit because she felt like home – and running to my room when Shiro questioned me about my connection with White.

A bit after, when I felt more reassured and had begun craving human communication, I finally emerged from my cave, only to find that some of the Paladins didn’t seem too happy with my presence. Time went on, spirits fell, only to rise once again in blazing hopes of dethroning Zarkon, and my naturally social abilities helped me blend in with the Paladins soon. A lot of the comfort I felt among the Paladins, I owed to Shiro and Hunk. Those two were literally angels, especially to me. I couldn’t count on all the fingers of the Paladins and Allura combined how may times those two, and occasionally Lance, came to offer me a hug or talk to me when I looked glum. Even Allura and Pidge talked to meif they were free. The only person I had problems interacting with was Keith. But we’d nod to each other, say our greetings, and I accepted that. I couldn’t be besties with everyone. However, mine and Keith’s communication skills only worsened and problems only increased once Shiro disappeared. Keith straight up would refuse to pilot the Black Lion, and even when he finally agreed, he was so unorganized and his decisions so rash it was costing the coalition. When Lions started becoming unstable to fight after longer, tougher battles, White was expected to fill in. After all, it was the White Lion’s purpose – to be the mind of Voltron when the Paladins couldn’t, to keep the soul, fire, water, air and flora elements in check, Allura had once said to me. Only, White needed a pilot, a Paladin. And all expectations of being White’s pilot were pinned on me, naturally, because I was the one who seemingly materialized in her cockpit out of nowhere.

I, obviously, failed to do that. Because apparently (and quite obviously, if I do say so myself) even though White warmed up the cockpit for me when I slept there and seemed to purr when I caressed her face, I wasn’t worthy enough, in her gaze, to be a Paladin. And I truly had no qualms about that. The only issue was that Keith wasn’t satisfied with that. Pidge and Lance tried to hide it, but they too, felt that I should try harder. Hunk comforted me when I accidentally let the hurt I was feeling shine through. Allura tried to convince everyone that it wasn’t my fault at all, that the Lions only accepted whom they deemed fit to Pilot them, and the reason the White Lion even was the “extra” Lion in the first place was that it was hardest than any of the other Lions to convince to be Pilot of. It was simply too calculating and cynical and choosy – and I agreed with White wholly, because stepping in as the voice of reason, as the mind of Voltron when all these worthy, noble, brave people who were specifically selected to be the defender and judge of the universe when no one else could failed to do their jobs, then you needed to be one hell of a person to be honoured with the name “White Paladin of Voltron”.

When Shiro had come back, or as he said, when Keith brought him back, the Castle seemed to light up more. I understood why he was chosen to be the soul to combine the other elements and form Voltron. I was ecstatic, perhaps happier than some of the Paladins even, but that didn’t mean I didn’t notice – or rather, didn’t choose to shrug off - his strange and simply out of character behaviour at times. I wasn’t the only one that did. It was when I voiced to White about my concerns, and she glowed – literally glowed as if in agreement did I know that shit was serious. White, as weirdly impossible as it sounds, also noticed. She knew, too, that something wasn’t right with Shiro. It was beyond me how she did, but I didn’t get to ponder on that for too long.

Why?

Because Lotor happened. He arrived as our saviour at the most unexpected moment and in the most unexpected way, and then became unpredictability, unanswered questions, and uncertainty personified for us. How many rifts and arguments he alone had caused between the Paladins was the slightest bit alarming, but justified, in my opinion. Lotor had succeeded in messing up our functioning. It didn’t matter if it was only a tad – he was the anthropomorphic form of all the flaws and hesitancies and wrongs and uncertainties in the coalition that we’d turned a blind eye to.

And now Zarkon had offered us Pidge’s dad’s freedom in exchange of Lotor, but I would be lying if I said if I wasn’t the tiniest bit worried as to just what Zarkon would do to Lotor. I know, I know, I really was no one to be straining my brain for that, since Lotor was an alien Prince who had equal chances of being good and evil, was capable of killing us all if he wished to, and had probably endured worse than his father’s wrath. But that wasn’t even the biggest issue we had. Pidge getting fired up was reasonable enough, I was aware of how emotionally driven she could become at times despite being a genius. And her brain refusing to work when her family came into play was the reason I was bothered most – even if she convinced the other Paladins to go through with the exchange, there was absolutely no surety that Zarkon would keep his part of the deal. It was legit the dumbest, most irrational thing the protagonist could do. If that happened, we’d lose both Pidge’s father, and an extremely valuable asset to the coalition.

I didn’t really realize that during my very acceptable train of self-depreciating thoughts I’d changed my route and had instinctively begun for White. I guess it was only right, as I felt more at ease there than anywhere. It was only when I reached her and stroked her, she seemed to… close in on her herself. I furrowed my brow, a small frown on my lips.

I sighed. It was probably nothing.

Relaxing my facial muscles, I closed my eyes, leaned forward, and nudged White’s snout. I jumped back with a start when instead of the usual purr or whimper, she growled at me. The crease between my brows returned with a higher intensity.

‘What is it, girl? Hmm?’ I cooed at her, not risking touching her. ‘Is something wrong? Do you not want to talk? Should I go?’

Silence was what I received in exchange.

‘My love,’ yes I called White “my love”, “girl”, have and will continue to call her “babe”, and no you cannot do jack about it. ‘You need to tell me, please,’ I continued, my voice gentle as ever, ‘how am I supposed to know what you want to say? You’ve never growled at me before. I don’t know how to interpret that gesture. Do I take it as you being upset? Angry? Sad?’ She still didn’t answer. All the life seemed to leave her.

I tilted my head. My sigh bounced off the walls.

‘The White Lion is said to be the mind of Voltron,’ a naturally assertive, deep, thunder-like voice called. I was sure I jumped at least a foot before whipping my head to where the voice resonated from. Lotor. What -?

‘Forgive me if I scared you. I thought it wise to offer some assistance; you seemed to be in need of help.’

I didn’t answer. He took it as a “yes, I need your help”. ‘The most probable reason it is not responding to your calls, is because you are contradicting what the White Lion stands for, you aren’t being wise. That is, assuming the Lion does answer you typically.’

I turned back to White, my jaw setting. My lingering suspicion turned into certainty at Lotor’s remarks.

Well. As much as I cherished my relations with White, I wasn’t going to voice my thoughts and concerns regarding the life trade. I wasn’t particularly keen on getting involved. I wasn’t the White Paladin. I wasn’t the voice of reason. I couldn’t be. This was the exact reason as to why I couldn’t be the White Paladin. I had many a thought, but didn’t always think it wise to share them with others.

Especially not when “others” included a leader that was not being himself, a princess who wanted to get rid of the Galra empire and Zarkon as soon as possible no matter the cost, and a Paladin who was going feral and becoming blind by rage at the thought of not getting her father back when she was so close.

Yes. Now definitely not.

Without sparing Lotor or White another glance, I headed to my room, for real this time. I didn’t notice both of their piercing gazes aimed at my retreating figure.

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cherry-valentine · 3 years

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Fall 2020 Anime Season:

Golden Kamuy Season 3 is, so far, just as good as the first two seasons. For anyone unfamiliar with the show, it follows a former soldier called “Immortal Sugimoto” (nicknamed so for his tendency to survive a lot of shit that would kill most people) and a young Ainu (the Japanese equivalent of Native Americans) girl as they search Northern Japan (and even parts of Russia) for hidden Ainu gold. The story is pretty wild, with threats coming from the wildlife and the harsh, snowy conditions as often as from mercenaries, assassins, and various other human dangers. The cast has expanded enough that we have several separate groups of cool, well-written characters roaming about (and they’ve shuffled a bit from season two, making their interactions very interesting). Sugimoto remains one of my favorite anime protagonists. He’s one of the more brutal, violent main characters I’ve seen, but, strangely, also one of the nicest. He’s kind to innocents (both people and animals) but will slaughter his enemies without hesitation. He’s also pretty funny. Then again, almost every character is subject to the show’s weird but endearing humor. It’s very hard to dislike any character, even the ones who are quite cruel. The show is also notable for having a lot of homoerotic subtext. The beefy, handsome men sure do love taking their clothes off and wrestling. Like, taking it ALL off. Multiple times per season. Yeah. Watch this show, everybody.

Ikebukuro West Gate Park is a new show this season that I was initially interested in because it reminded me of Durarara!! in that it’s set in Ikebukuro and features color gangs. That’s where the similarities end, however. Whereas Durarara!! had tons of supernatural elements and just plain craziness, IWGP is more realistic by comparison. The show follows Makoto, a seemingly normal guy who seems to function in a sort of “odd jobs” type of role for a color gang called the G Boys. While they’re a gang, they don’t seem like criminals or thugs, or even delinquents. They really feel more like a club, held together by their respect for the leader referred to as King. So far the series seems to be episodic in nature, with most stand-alone episodes focusing on some sort of social issue, from drug addiction to immigration. It’s interesting to see these issues presented in such a sympathetic light, viewed through the lens of Tokyo’s youth. The art is nice, with varied character designs and animation that’s just good enough that you don’t notice the problems very often. The music is a highlight, with my favorite opening theme of the season and one of the better ending themes.

Magatsu Wahrheit is a show I was very iffy on at first. It has a lot of things working against it. It’s based on a video game I’ve never heard of, the opening theme is one of the cheapest, most unimpressive things I’ve ever seen (note: it does improve a few episodes in!), and the series overall has a low budget feel (though nowhere near as bad as Gibiate from last season). But the story is actually very interesting and very well written. The basic premise is that Young Man A (I’m not remembering these weird names, sorry) works as a delivery truck driver in your usual “modern fantasy” setting (kingdoms and monsters and other medieval fantasy trappings alongside trucks and cars and advanced science laboratories). When he’s loading up his deliveries, Young Man B, a fresh recruit in the kingdom’s military and general goody-two-shoes, randomly offers to help Young Man A load his truck. Young Man B spots some boxes off to the side and, assuming they were part of the load, puts them into the truck while Young Man A is talking to his boss. These boxes turn out to be illegal weapons being smuggled by a group of... freedom fighters? I guess? This, in turn, drags Young Man A into a shit storm of trouble when the illegal weapons are discovered in his truck. It also leads directly to tragedy for Young Man B as well, setting them both on wildly different but similarly dangerous paths. The whole idea that a simple act of kindness for a stranger sets off such a terrible series of events is pretty engaging. As it stands in the show right now, Young Man A is the more compelling character. He’s just a truck driver. He’s a coward who runs from danger and wants no part of any of this. But at the same time, he can be surprisingly brave at times (usually when a child is in danger). In a twist on the usual trope, these spurts of bravery are rarely rewarded. At least twice, his decision to act has led to heartbreaking tragedy. So far Young Man B is your typical “idealistic youth realizing the military isn’t comprised entirely of nice people” type of character. As such, he’s just not as interesting. He hasn’t had as much screen time though, so hopefully he’ll grow as a character. I guess it says a lot that I’ve written so much about the show, and almost all of it is about the plot. But the plot is really the only remarkable thing about it. In this case, that’s enough.

Higurashi no Naku Koro ni is, well, a bit of a trainwreck. And I’m not necessarily talking about the quality of the show. Let me explain: The show was marketed as a remake of the 2006 anime, which was one of my all-time favorite series. I was pretty excited about it. Lots of new fans who had never watched the original started this one. The first episode was okay. I wasn’t crazy about how shiny everything looked (I realize the original’s visuals are a bit dated now but at least they were unique, this new one looks like pretty much every harem anime from the past five years) but the story seemed to be doing good and I looooooved the use of the original opening theme song as the closer. Then episode two dropped, and the fandom basically exploded. The first few minutes of episode two reveal that this is not a remake, but a sequel! Shock! At first, I was impressed by this little bit of manipulation. It felt exciting to realize the truth. But then it dawned on me (and the rest of the fandom) that new viewers who came to watch this were screwed over. Those first few minutes of episode two spoil some very important things from the original series (we’re talking major spoilers here), and it’s going to ruin a lot of plot points for those who never watched the original and now want to go back and watch it first. So here’s a PSA: If you’re new to Higurashi and want to try this new series, DON’T unless you’re okay with watching a sequel that spoils the original.

Okay, so now let’s talk about this new series/sequel. First, the good points: The ending theme is GORGEOUS. Just... go watch it. Soak it up. The opening isn’t bad but I can’t help comparing it to the far superior original opening. Aside from the overly shiny and generic character designs, the rest of the visuals are pretty great. The scenery in particular is very nice. In terms of story, I like the idea of beginning each new “arc” by staying close to the original story, then throwing in some pretty wild deviations that make them end in completely different ways because a character that lived through the original is trying to make subtle changes (that so far have ended up turning out very badly). When it comes to the bad points, one in particular sticks out: It’s not scary! The original had some truly unsettling moments, and so far this one hasn’t even been creepy. It’s had some moments that obviously tried to be scary but have failed miserably. For example, the early scenes with Rena in the original were actually terrifying. But I felt none of the intensity or creepiness in this sequel. Still, it’s nice to see these characters again and to see how this story deviates as someone tries desperately to change the outcomes.

Haikyuu!! has another new season and... I don’t really know what to say about it. I’ve talked about this show several times now. Looks like this season is going to focus primarily on one long match, a concept I’m not crazy about. They also made the baffling decision to cut in with a full episode about a rival team’s match right in the middle of showing the match with the main team. I mean I love seeing more of the rival teams but it felt disjointed to do it this way. Still yet, it’s a fun and energetic show full of great characters and easily understood volley ball matches.

Jujutsu Kaisen is probably the most hyped up new show this season, and I would say it definitely deserves that hype. It’s a pretty familiar shounen fighting anime setup: A teenage boy acquires special powers and joins a school to train so that he can use those powers for good. However, following that formula does little to negate just how fun and well-done this series is. A lot of people have compared it to Naruto (the protagonist is a vessel for a powerful entity, he joins a trio of characters with a more serious and moody black-haired boy and a chick, and they have a badass teacher with silver hair who keeps his face partially covered). So sure, it’s like Naruto... except it’s much better than Naruto in every conceivable way. The animation and fight choreography are consistently fantastic. The main character is not the least bit annoying. The only chick in the group (there are more cool ladies in the story, just not in this group!) is a badass in her own right and her story and motivations have absolutely nothing to do with romantic interest in any of the guys. Even the teacher character is incredibly fun. The music is great, with my favorite ending theme of the season. You know it’s an excellent ending theme when people start making different versions of it using characters from other shows. It’s so, well, fun. A word I keep using here, because that’s the first word that comes to mind when I’m watching this series.

Talentless Nana is one of those shows that’s going to be difficult for me to talk about without spoiling a very cool surprise. This surprise comes at the end of episode one (basically, the show makes you think it’s about something, but turns out it’s about something completely different). So if you want to really enjoy that surprise, stop reading this and go watch episode one before coming back. If you’ve already watched it or don’t mind having the surprise spoiled, here we go: The first episode sets up the series to be a cheap Boku no Hero Academia knock-off. We have a school of “talented” (super powered) kids training to use their powers to save humanity from (so far) unseen monsters referred to as “the enemies of humanity”. We are told one boy has no “talent” or special power and he’s ridiculed for this. There’s a new transfer student named Nana, a super sweet and cheerful girl with pink hair who has the ability to read minds. There’s also another transfer student, a sullen and quiet boy named Kyouya who hasn’t disclosed what his “talent” is. With that setup, I think a lot of people were ready to dismiss it as “BNHA, but not as good”. But then, a few minutes before the first episode ends, we’re hit with the twist that reveals what this show is really about: Nana is the one with no “talent”. She lied about being able to read minds (the boy we thought had no talent did actually have one). She’s a totally normal human being, and she has been sent to infiltrate the school and kill off the students, the true “enemies of humanity” (called so because their powers make them incredibly dangerous). Thus, the show is about a normal human girl using only her wits and skill in manipulation to kill off super-powered individuals. Watching her work is an absolute delight. She is ruthless and incredibly intelligent, but she does have one major problem: the other transfer student Kyouya, who is at least as smart as she is and is suspicious of her right off the bat. But since he’s not sure she’s up to no good, he can’t really act on his suspicions. Nana in turn knows he suspects her, so she has to be careful around him. As a result, the two become “friends”, constantly watching and outmaneuvering each other. In this way, the series reminds me of the early, best parts of Death Note, with the mental sparring between Light and L. But the most fun you’ll have with this show is watching Nana come up with ways to deal with each new “talent” she comes across, from the ability to time travel to necromancy, all while having no special power of her own. The art is nice, a bit generic, nothing too fancy. The music is great, with one of the better opening themes this season.

Moriarty the Patriot focuses on the classic Sherlock antagonist Professor Moriarty. Let me get this out of the way first: I know next to nothing about Sherlock. I haven’t even watched any of the various tv shows about him. What I know of the character basically comes from mentions of him in Detective Conan. So I’m coming into this series with no preconceived notions about these characters and no other versions to compare them to. Anyway, Moriarty as a series is about class warfare. Moriarty as a character pretty much embodies the phrase “eat the rich”. If you’re familiar with the phrase and understand its meaning, you’ll probably like this show. Moriarty works as a professor, but his side job is as a “Crime Consultant”. He helps the poor lower classes get revenge on the cruel nobles and elites who have wronged them. This revenge most often involves murder. There’s something refreshing about how unapologetic it is. In most anime, the hero tries to find other ways to punish evil than by actually killing them, or there’s some lesson involved about how revenge isn’t the answer or how killing someone who wronged you makes you as bad as them. In this series, there’s absolutely none of that. People get their revenge and, so far as I’ve watched, seem to be living much happier lives afterwards. In this way the show totally avoids being preachy. The art is gorgeous, with classy character designs and lovely backgrounds. There’s a certain lushness to it. The music is very nice as well (particularly that poppy ending theme). The only downside is that this has probably ruined me for watching other versions of these characters now. I mean, once you see them as sexy anime pretty boys, it’s hard to see them as anything else.

Carry Over Shows From Previous Seasons:

Black Clover

Best of Season:

Best New Show: Jujutsu Kaisen

Best Opening Theme: Ikebukuro West Gate Park

Best Ending Theme: Jujutsu Kaisen

Best New Male Character: Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot)

Best New Female Character: Nana (Talentless Nana)

#anime reviews #seasonal anime #fall 2020 anime #anime recommendations #text #jujutsu kaisen #moriarty the patriot #munou na nana #ikebukuro west gate park

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vagrant-love · 3 years

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Justin’s Love Chronicles - Story 1

This is a Waverly Place fic. This was meant to be a one shot one chapter story of several stories unconnected where Justin find love and sex in different scenarios. However, I degressed too much in this one so the rest of the story will have another entry.

The next entry will have sex and all the good stuff.

Inspired by S04E19, Wizards vs Asteroids

“We received a report from NASA that an asteroid has changed its course and is heading straight to earth, this means the end of life as we know it” The Russo family, Zeke and Harper were all gathered on the Russo’s family living room watching the television in disbelief as it delivered the horrifying news. Alex, who was usually carefree and youthful, ready to dismiss any terrible news with a joke or witty remark was left speechless, unable to find in her vast mental Rolodex of comedy anything to say that could even remotely lighten the mood.

Harper, who was an alarmist by nature did what was expected of her, she made a mental note of all her favourite outfits, which she would now wear, one after the other, until the end, but she then decided she would not have time to change to all of them, so instead she would make a new one, or die in the process.

Max, who had a mind as feeble and as free as a butterfly in a breeze, almost child-like despite being now a teenager, turned to his family and beloved friends and realised that he would no longer see them. This idea filled him with immense sadness, he felt his shoulders heavy, and his eyes teary. “Guys, I know I am usually lost in everything that is happening around me, or with you guys. But now that the end is coming, I just want you guys to know that I love you guys, and I care for you, and I wish I was more present, more aware”.

Teresa could not help but to love the youngest of her beloved children. Yes Max problematic. Yes Max created all sort of havoc. Yes Max… well, they all knew all that Max did, but one thing they all also knew is that Max never did anything maliciously. He was pure and innocent and they all loved him. She took him into her arms with tender love that only a mother could give, and stroke his beautiful brown hair that resembled hers so much.

“It’s okay Max, we love you just the way you are. Right Jerry?”

Jerry nodded in agreement, like Alex he too had no words for that was happening. He was a big softie after all, they all knew it, and knowing that the world would end and they would never see his family again was a burden no heart could bear, specially not Jerry’s heart. He enveloped both his wife and Max, holding them tight in his arms, feeling their warmth for the last time, smelling the sweet scent of vanilla shampoo in Teresa’s hair, one thing that he loved about her since they started dating, she almost smelled like vanilla. He even appreciated the minty smell coming from Max’s hair, which he hoped was form his shampoo, but he knew was probably from eating too many magical mint cookies to disguise Max’s sour smell of not having bathed for a couple os days.

The only one who wasn’t in a fatalistic mindset was Justin, who’s rational mind was working overtime doing calculations, trajectories, thinking about the physics, rotations, heck, even dark matter if it helped. He turned to Zeke who stared back at him, they shared an unspoken bond, they knew what each other thought without having to say any words. Justin nodded. Zeke nodded. And both went up to Justin’s room.

“C’mon Justin do you really think they could have made the wrong calculations? They are the freaking NASA man. We are so doomed!” Zeke whined as soon as they entered the room. He wanted to be right, but being an emotional bouncing chipmunk he was he could not help but fall in despair when confronted with the idea that he, Zeke, could be right when NASA was not.

“Zeke, we have been tracking asteroids for years. You know the calculations, you’ve done it yourself man. We are RIGHT!” Justin said, almost barking the last word as he usually does the he wanted to emphasise his excitement. He took Zeke by the cheeks, holding each side with one hand and forced Zeke to look straight back into his eye. He had this new theory he thought after considering Plato’s theory on the soul. If a soul was the essence of a being, and decided how the ‘vessel’ would behave, and if Shakespeare was right when he said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, then maybe if he stared at Zeke he could make HIS mind force Zeke’s mind to behave more like Justin, and less like Zeke.

Not that Justin didn’t like Zeke’s soul, far from that. He adored him. Zeke was his best friend, his confident, more often than not a should to cry on. He was there when Justin lost Juliet and Rosie, and he never judged, or made fun of him for expressing his feelings in an ‘unmanly’ way. Zeke was always kind to Justin. *** The day Juliet went away Justin was in shambles. His heart was shattered, exploded and each particle was so small that if one could see they would think he had sand in his chest. It was an adequate metaphor, because Justin did feel like he was suffocating after his girlfriend went away, as if had a whole beach in his lungs. He could not breath, and it felt like every heartbeat was a struggle. After that fated day he didn’t want to go home and see his family. He loved his family, but some things are not meant to be shared with family.

He called Zeke as soon as they got home.

“Hey’, he said as soon as Zeke answered with his cheery ‘Hiellow’. He could not help but to grin, even if just slightly, at the sound of his beloved friend. His overly cheeriness, carefree and over-the-top attitude was something that Justin always felt balanced his more sober, geeky and rational attitude. Together they were balanced… perfect.

Justin explained what happened to Zeke. Not in detail, just enough so that he could ask him if he could come over and maybe spend the night. “Of course man, stay as long as you want. I’ll call my parents to double check but you know they love you, I’m sure they won’t mind. I’m here for you bro, you know that, right?”

“I know Zeke, thank you”, was all Justin could mumble before hanging up. Zeke was very wealthy, his parents had a beautiful and large apartment on the Upper East Side, which wasn’t too far from Waverly Place, but it felt to Justin as if he was entering a different universe whenever he visited Zeke. It was a place of money, Teslas, Chanel suits, Versace underwear and diamonds. A lot of diamonds. He remembered one time when he was younger and he saw Zeke’s mother going out with his father, both looking very chic and well dressed. She was wearing a beautiful necklace, two strips of diamond with a large blue diamond in the middle. Justin was obsessed with it, he never seen something so sparkly in his life. Even magic could not rival it. It was as if one million pieces of glitter had been crushed together to form just one stone. He must have stared at it so badly Zeke’s mother could not help but notice.

“Do you like my necklace little Justin?”, she asked, she had a bit of an accent but he didn’t know where from.

He nodded.

“Would you like to have a closer look?”

Again, he nodded, and the lady took the necklace off her swan-like neck, and handed it to the younger lad who took hold of it as if he was holding a bomb with how careful he was handling with the jewellery.

He adored it, he wanted to have it, to wear it. He wished for a brief second that he was a girl to be able to wear such things. He put it in his head and wore it like a tiara, and looked at himself in the large baroque mirror that was placed in the large living room. He smiled brightly, shining his pearly teeth for all to see. Zeke’s mother laughed heartily, and Zeke’s father smiled kindly to him, giving him a look that Justin never quite understood. It was a kind look, but also a mysterious one.

“You truly are most adorable little Justin, I am glad my Zachary found you as a friend. I told you George that sending him to public school was the best idea. I went to one and I tuned out well. Yes, private education has its perks, but our boy should be grounded and down to earth.”, she said, half to her husband and half to the two young boys staring at her.

She held her slender hand with beautifully manicured fingers to Justin, who noticed she had a bracelet that matched the necklace. Justin handed the necklace back to her, but he never forgot how he looked with that necklace on his head.

Justin wasn’t sure why he remembered that on his way to Zeke. Maybe it was because he hasn’t been to the Beakerman’s house for quite some time. He was very busy with school, magic, etc. So the chances to go to the Upper East Side were scarce. He was happy he was going though, he liked there, but most of all, he liked Zeke.

When he arrived he went through he dark oak heavy doors into a refined reception room, neatly decorated with a classy baby blue carpet that covered the floor and matched the cerulean paint on the walls. On the centre there was a huge glass candelabra that Justin could not even imagine how it was cleaned without magic. To the left side surrounded by white marble was the reception, hosted by a Juan, the oddly young and handsome concierge. He was probably ins his late 20s, Justin would guess 28? He had thick jet black curly hair, not too voluminous, just enough to give him a youthful look, as if he had just left the ocean and his hair dried with the sad from the sea and, sorta stayed that way. With dark green eyes, and a very shallow stable, he almost looked like a model on his day off, except for the cute little cap he wore to match his nice suit. He wondered if the suit came with the job or is Juan bought it to match the opulent surrounding.

“Hola Juan”, said Justin.

“Hola señor Justin”, replied Juan, with his useful cheerful tone. He didn’t often meet Juan, but he always had a tone that was almost as if he was smiling through his voice. It made Justin happy and he pondered for a split second that his natural charisma was too great to be left isolated from the rest of the world, secluded in that beautiful cage of a Manhattan reception. Juan should have been a model, or an actor maybe… thought Justin, considering if he would allow himself to use magic to maybe change Juan’s fortune.

“Señor Zeke told me you were coming, go right in, the code is this”, he handled Justin a piece of paper neatly folder with the number 24.

Justin thanked him, walked into the large elevator at the end of the reception, typed in the cold and went up to the 5th floor, where the door to the elevator opened straight into the beautiful living room he had reminiscence not too long before.

Not much had changed, apart from some furniture changing and moving, the colour in a wall going from white to marsala, and a piece of decor here and there which he remembered not being there, or being somewhere else.

“Hey Justin”, said Zeke, coming from the sofa and greeting him at the entrance. He was wearing only a white tank top and silver cotton pyjama trousers. His hair was a bit messy. It wasn’t early but not late enough that Zeke should be sleeping, thought Justin.

“I hope I’m not interrupting your nap or anything”

“Not at all man”, Zeke said, shining his naive smile at Justin. “My parents are travelling in Asia so I have the apartment for myself. I decided to have breakfast food for dinner and I thought hey, if I am gonna have breakfast then I need to be dressed for breakfast. So I dressed up like this and messed up my hair. What do you think bro?”

Justin laughed, which felt a bit weird, he hadn’t felt at all happy ever since Juliet had been taken by the mummy, let alone after she went into the woods, but Zeke had this natural ability to make others laugh, it was what made him so charismatic and something Justing envied a little about Zeke. While Justin was more handsome than Zeke, he always lacked this easiness that Zeke had into fitting him.

“Oh I’m so sorry Justin, I’m being so insensitive talking about breakfast when your girlfriend turned into a million years old and disappeared into the woods. Oooooh man I’m a terrible friend!”, whined Zeke in his usual chipmunk manner.

“It’s fine Zeke, I laughed so that’s more than I have done in the past months so, thank you. And I think you look dashing my friend.” He said, giving Zeke a wink and a couple of gun finger pointing.

“Thanks Justin, you’re awesome man. Come in”, he said, leading Justin down the hall and into his bedroom, which was almost as big as the living room.

Zeke’s bedroom as dreamland for any geek. He had Dark Star replica hanging from the ceiling. A book shelf full of fantasy books and mangas, Zeke loved his Sailor Moon and made a point to buy each one from the original Japanese print. Zeke’s bed was enormous, and was probably the size of all the Russo’s beds combined. Justin was always surprised that Zeke didn’t use custom sheets of his favourite series, Doctor Who, but he had a feeling that had something to do with his parents. The rest of the room was filled with other nerdy things, but overall looked like a normal teenager room. There were clothes spread out around the floor, the bed was unmade, and there were a couple of plates of food left on top of the many cupboards around the place.

“Sorry, I gave the cleaning guys a break since it’s only me, so things are a bit messy”, Zeke said apologetically. “Sit down tell me what happened again”. Justin took the seat on the bed, right next to Zeke who sat on top of his leg as he usually did, facing Justin. He wasn’t sure he could reciprocate the gesture. When he thought about talking about what happened to Juliet he immediately felt his eyes filling with tears, and the sand in his chest moving up to his through, choking any words that attempted to break free from his vocal cords.

“I-I… Sh-She…”, he tried saying, but the sobs had already started. Justin hid his face with his hands. He was so embarrassed, he was meant to be the cool one but there he was crying like a baby.

“Hey hey, it’s okay dude, it’s okay to cry. Come here”, he pulled Justin by the shoulders, an action that surprised Justin so much it made his sobs stop and for him to look at Zeke with a horrified face. Not because Justin was avert to Zeke’s touching but because never in their friendship they had been this intimate. Yes, they were very close, but only in the manner that people would see it as acceptable.

“It’s okay dude, there’s nothing weird about this. I know people think us guys can’t like, cry or hug, but the truth man is that you’re my best friend and if you’re sad, I want to give you a hug”, Zeke said without an inch of malice in his voice, without so much of a hint of an ulterior motive. His honesty and frankness were so genuine Justin couldn’t help but feel disarmed. Justin pondered, for a second, and decided that this was okay.

He allowed himself to be embraced by his friend, who put his head in his shoulder and held him tight. He rubbed Justin’s back slowly and gently, and Justin felt himself letting go of the sand in his heart, of all those feelings of lost and despair he had felt since Juliet went away.

And he cried, loudly. And Zeke stayed there with him, holding him, rubbing his back and squeezing his shoulders, whispering ‘It’s okay buddy, everything is okay, I’m here for you’.

Justin knew, at that point, he loved Zeke.

#wizards of waverly place #fanfic #justin russo #zeke beakerman #gay #love #story

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

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The Truth At Last (1981)

*A One In A Million AU fic*

Summary: After 40 years together the truth of Rose's identity comes out at last.

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: Thank you to the lovely reader who asked about if/ when Rose tells the guys she's actually from the future. I know I gave a mini head canon in my answer but the more I thought about it the more the plot bunnies hopped around and this little fic was born.

The Truth At Last (1981)

“Come on lazy bones, let’s go!” Bucky shouts up the stairs. You place a hand on your husband's arm, settling him in his excitement. Even at the ripe old age of sixty-three, Bucky still gets overly excited at new things like a child. He gives your youngest grandchild a run for her money at times and she’s only four.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Steve grumbles as he descends the stairs to join you in the foyer. He’s fumbling with the buttons of his favorite blue shirt, unable to get the buttons through the holes as quickly as he’d like. His arthritis is flaring up again, it’s been doing that more and more lately.

You push past the pang of sadness at seeing your husband struggle and pull him close when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, “Come here, love. I’ve got it.” you tell him, fixing the buttons of his shirt with quick efficiency.

Steve checks his hair in the mirror by the door; the blonde is shot through with white and silver, though the cut is the same as when you met him. Even at sixty-two he’s quite striking. Bucky and you make sure to remind him of that regularly too. “You look great, Stevie.” Bucky assures him, pressing a quick kiss to the other man’s cheek before you head out the door.

The walk to the new cafe is only four blocks from your old brownstone but the three of you take your time. There’s no need to hurry anymore. Now that you’re all retired, you can spend your days together doing whatever piques your interest at your own pace. Bucky had retired at fifty-five after an accident at the docks; his foot healed quickly but he realized he was getting too old for that type of work. Steve had been doing commissions only since the kids were born, taking jobs here and there as needed. It had helped tremendously when the kids were young. The last two years though, his arthritis had worsened and he’d stopped taking jobs. He claimed he wanted to create for himself while he still could. You were the last to retire, finally giving your notice the year before, and leaving your beloved library after almost forty years of service. You still go in once a week to lead story time for the children but you left the heavy mantle of Library Director behind.

The cafe is a little brick shop with a lavender awning and wide glass windows. It’s cheery looking and definitely fits in with newer shops that have come into the neighborhood in recent years. Bucky holds the door open causing a little bell to chime up above and the scent of coffee hits your nose. It smells like heaven.

Bucky insists on ordering for all three of you, so you and Steve take a table by the window while Bucky hurries over to the counter. You sit quietly looking around, letting a gentle melancholy sink into your bones. You miss the days of setting up shop in a Starbucks to work on your college papers, sipping an endless stream of lattes and staying right up until they closed for the night. Being back in a cafe like this dredges up those fond memories and you wish you could share them with the guys. You’d always meant to tell them, but even after forty years together, the timing never seemed quite right. And the longer it went, the more impossible it seemed.

“Here we go!” Bucky interrupts your reverie, placing a tray with three steaming cups and a plate of treats on your table. He slides into his seat and snatches a lemon scone with a wide grin, his sweet tooth just as wild as ever.

You reach for the cup immediately after recognizing it as a latte; eager to devour it despite the steam flowing freely from the foam. The first sip is overwhelming, the taste of espresso and steamed milk hitting your tongue for the first time in four decades.

“It’s called a cafe au lait.” Bucky explains, “This is the only place in the city that serves them and they’re just the best.”

You’re lost in your own little world, practically on the verge of tears as your taste buds welcome the familiar flavor. “God,” you murmur to yourself, “I missed this.”

“What, doll?” Bucky asks, his nose wrinkling in confusion.

You look up to see two pairs of blue eyes staring at you in confusion.

“Nothing,” you assure them quickly, “It’s nothing.”

“You said you missed this? Did you come here without us? They just opened last week.” Steve chimes in. He’s like a damned dog with a bone.

You’re overwhelmed by the memories the latte has drug up and the guys are pestering you in unison with increasingly teasing questions as to what you meant and how you could have had one before in order to miss it.

Steve is chuckling at Bucky’s last guess, “If she’s able to climb out a window at 2am-”

“Because I have had them before! Okay?!” you snap, cutting him off. “Hundreds of them. I practically lived off them while I was studying for my masters!” You huff out an exasperated breath, your pulse racing with frustration.

“Your what?” Steve chokes out in confusion.

“Oh hell.” You mutter, now you’ve done it. The conversation you’ve been avoiding for two thirds of your life is upon you and somehow you’re still not ready.

“I think this is an at home type of conversation.” Bucky suggests. “Let’s just finish this up and we can head home.”

The three of you drink your lattes quickly and Bucky asks for a paper sack to take your treats home in. None of you are willing to eat anything with the nervous energy buzzing around. You feel like you’re going to vibrate out of your bones between the caffeine and the terror of what you’re about to reveal to your husbands. You can’t even imagine what this will do to your marriage. To your family. The happy plans you had for your retired lives together are turning to ashes in your mind.

You and Bucky take your usual seats on opposite ends of the sofa leaving Steve to opt for the middle seat opposed to his favored recliner. You barely know where to start but the guys are waiting patiently for you to begin. “I know things are going to change after this, but please, please know how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you.” You choke back a sob before continuing, “I didn’t move to New York in 1941. I’d lived there since college in 2028….” Slowly, and through a sea of tears, the whole truth comes out. It takes almost an hour and you feel like your insides have been scraped raw between your memories and the quiet tears freely flowing from all three of you. By the time you’ve finished you’re convinced they’ll ask you to leave. They haven’t said a word, just gripped each other’s hands desperately and sniffled at the occasional stray tear.

“We always suspected you had an interesting past.” Steve chuckles wetly, “But I never saw that coming.”

Bucky huffs a teary laugh which brings one of your own up and just like that the tension that’s been brewing for the past hour spills. Steve scoots forward to take you in his arms, peppering you with kisses while Bucky moves in to hug you overtop Steve.

They have questions, lots of them, but you expected they would. The guys take turns; Steve asking about your life growing up and Bucky mostly wanting to know about more “cool future shit” as he’s calling it. You’re discussing the challenges you faced trying to adjust to life in their time after knowing how much better it was for women in the future when Steve gets himself so worked up in self righteous fury that he has an asthma attack. You hold the inhaler patiently to his lips, pressing the cylinder to release his medication for him since his hands still ache. When his breathing evens out enough that you and Bucky are no longer concerned, Bucky starts teasing Steve about trying to be the center of attention despite this being about you.

You spend the full day on that old olive green sofa together. Things you haven’t thought of in ages coming to mind, and you happily share the memories with them. You’re all stiff-muscled and sore by dinner time when you finally get up to rummage through your kitchen for food. The heaviness in the air is gone now, a subdued feeling of relief in its place. You all agree the children won’t be told. It’s better just keeping it between you three. The guys seem to truly understand your reasoning in not telling them and aren’t holding it against you. All in all, they took the news remarkably well. You should have known though. The love you share is the love of a lifetime and something that strong doesn’t just flicker out.

You’re putting three little frozen chicken pot pies in the oven when you hear the guys shouting in outrage over the sound of the television in the living room. You head towards the sound of their discontent.

“Rose!” Steve calls to you, “The MLB just went on strike! Can you believe it?! They’re cancelling 23 games!”

“Oh my god.” you gasp, surprised that the league took such drastic action. Baseball was the only sport watched in your house, both of the guys completely obsessed from July through October every year. It’s going to be odd seeing how this strike plays out and you’re sure the guys will be complaining about it well past when the season ends.

“But you probably already knew that, right?” Bucky teases you lightly.

You stare at him in shock for a moment before swatting him with your dish towel. “Jerk.”

Steve snorts in his effort not to laugh, but Bucky laughs with his whole body, amused by his own self.

“Funny.” you chastise him, “Really funny, guys.”

They settle but are still wearing twin grins of amusement. Throwing an eye roll their way, you head back to the kitchen to start on the salad. After everything, a little teasing is a small price for years of hiding, and one you’re more than willing to pay.

#One In A Million #reader inspired fic #stucky #stucky x reader #reader insert #stucky fanfic #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #female reader insert #captain america fanfic #marvel fanfic

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

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Is It Really THAT Bad?

There really is only one way I could ever kick this series off: with the very movie that inspired it. Robot Monster is a B-movie with a reputation that precedes it by many miles. Even f you’ve never actually watched this, you might have heard that it is one of the worst films of all time, because as we all know, independent B-movies with no budget need to be held to the same standard as Hollywood blockbusters. These days most people have settled into calling it a prime example of “so bad it’s good” cinema, with folks like film historian Leonard Maltin calling it “one of the genuine legends of Hollywood - embarrassingly, hilariously awful.”

But even back in the day when it came out there was some claims this film wasn’t so bad. Variety, of all publications, said that “Robot Monster comes off surprisingly well, considering the extremely limited budget ($50,000) and schedule on which the film was shot." After years of hearing nothing but that this film is an utter travesty, it can be especially bizarre to hear that even in its day, there were people who understoof that maybe this film shouldn’t be held up to the same standards as something like Citizen Kane or a Hitchcock film. Maybe it should be judged… as a low-budget B-grade sci-fi film! GASP! What a concept!

THE GOOD

I think perhaps one of the genuinely greatest aspects of this film is the score, which was done by, of all people, Elmer Bernsetein. If you don’t recognize the name, you will almost certainly recognize the vats body of work he has, with his resume including composing work for The Magnificent Seven, The Ten Commandments, The Blues Brothers, Heavy Metal, Ghostbusters, The Black Cauldron, Wild Wild West, An American Werewolf in London, and even the music video for “Thriller.” This is one of his earlier works, and it is still absolutely fantastic, to the point where some (but not I) might feel it belongs in a better movie. It quite frankly uplifts the material onscreen and gives it a grander weight that a lesser composer might not have been able to accomplish.

Contrary to the popular concept of B-movies, most of them have pretty decent acting at least, and this one is no exception; most of the cast is relatively solid, with even the little boy actor managing to turn in a solid performance; he’s not overly remarkable, sure, but he is just as petulant as he needs to be, and he does contribute some genuinely good ideas at points. Of course, the real stars of the show here are the physical performance of Geroge Barrows and the astounding vocal performance of John Brown as the legendary B-movie monster Ro-Man. We never see his face, and yet the physical acting of this man in a gorilla suit and fishbowl combined with the powerful voice of Brown really comes together.

And speaking of Ro-Man, I’m just going to come out and say it: the cheapo monster design that has been so widely mocked for decades is something I find to be incredibly inspired, unique, and genuinely great. Yes, I’m sure when you hear the phrase “robot monster” the first thing that comes to your mind if you’ve never heard of the film would most likely not be “gorilla in a diving helmet.” But it has such a creative charm born from a lack of finances that it’s truly impossible to really hate the creature. It helps that Ro-Man has gone on to make various appearances in cameos in pop culture, as well as helping to inspire the design of the character Minion from the cinematic masterpiece Megamind.

And all that aside, are you really so stone-hearted you can bring yourself to hate this guy?

The Bad

There are a few issues that pop up within this, with one of the more major ones being with the story structure. While the plot itself isn’t super bad, with it being basic B-movie fluff and the short runtime gives it a decent pacing, there’s a weird amount of padding, most noticeable during a stretch of time where it just cuts back to Ro-Man walking up and down a hill as dramatic music plays. The use of weird stock footage from old dinosaur movies also comes off as a bit weird. Still, the strangest bit of all is Ro-Man’s sudden and inexplicable lust for the human woman, to the point where he almost screws up his entire mission because he’s suddenly become horny. It’s rather jarring and out of nowhere, though it at least leads to some good lines from Ro-Man.

Out of all of the actors, the little girl is probably the most annoying. She’s so annoying, in fact, that it almost comes across as a mercy when Ro-Man finally strangles her. And her death is kind of underplayed, especially by her brother, who doesn’t seem too shaken up by how his sister has been strangled and that the extremely low amount of people left on Earth has now gone down.

And speaking of the boy, the ending reveals that the entire film was just his dream, which is one of the absolute worst endings a work can go for. A last-second reveal shows that the prior events may have actually been some sort of prophetic dream, as it is implied that Ro-Man and his masters will invade the Earth after all, but it still is a bit of a cop out. It takes a really great work to pull off the “all just a dream” twist ending, and while this movie is certainly not awful, it’s definitely not The Wizard of Oz or Super Mario Bros. 2.

Is It Really THAT Bad?

This movie really did not live up to its reputation at all. I went in expecting some hilarious disaster of a film, and instead what I got is a flawed yet charming B-movie that managed to be extremely creative despite its low budget and features a lot of good elements. While I don’t think it all comes together perfectly, and I’ve definitely seen far better cheesy B-movies, this is certainly not the bottom of the barrel as its legendary infamy would have you believe.

Its solid 3 on IMDB I feel is a bit too harsh; while certainly no masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, it definitely feels like a three is a bit two low when there’s actually quite a bit good going for it. Realistically, I think a score in the mid-to-low fives would be a much better score for the film. As for its status as a “so bad it’s good film,” I think it is at least somewhat fair in this case, as the story itself is rather wonky, but I don’t think the film is bad for its quirky creativity, such as Ro-Man or the bubble machine; unique little quirks of the film I feel are genuinely good and help set it apart from other B-movies from the time and give it a unique identity that not many movies can match.

I think this film is most comparable to something like fellow B-movie The Giant Claw, where most of its more ironic fandom comes from the goofy monster than anything. I think that is warranted, as Ro-Man is just such a wonderfully iconic B-movie villain; maybe we should get Guillermo del Toro on the phone and see if he wants to do a sexy reimagining of this movie next. It’s what he deserves.

#IIRTB #Robot Monster #pilot episode #feedback would be appreciated!

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