#dunno why they felt the need to replace the whole cast

[zenjestrr]

playing Mario Wonder via....means...and Mario/Luigi's new voice actor does a really good job. you almost can't tell it's not Charles. they have a new VA for Peach, too and...that one is more obvious

#dunno why they felt the need to replace the whole cast #Toad and Yoshi are the same tho lol #and maybe Bowser but I skipped the intro cutscene #glad Daisy is finally playable finally in a real Mario game finally

[babybluebex]

of pubs and profs [tom holland smut]

➽ pairing: prof!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.7k ➽ summary: you have what you consider the best night of your life, but discover that it was with the worst person possible. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. smut, explicit language, fingering/oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (i am begging yall to wear a condom irl) ➽ a/n: alright so... don’t fool around with your teacher pls. live vicariously thru y/n :) 

He seemed so out of place here. For one thing, a bar like this was hardly known for much good happening, and this man exuded good. He seemed fit, even as he sat at the bar, his face sharp, full of angles that would have been glorious to sketch, and he had caramel-amber hair that curled around his ears and the nape of his neck. He wore a dark blue turtleneck and slacks, a watch with a leather band around his left wrist. 

“You’re staring.” 

I jumped. I had forgotten that I was mid-conversation. “Huh?”

Zendaya scoffed. “You’re staring at that guy,” she said. “Like, staring super hard. Do you know him?” 

“No,” I mumbled. “He’s just…” I trailed off for a moment, then attempted to save face by taking a sip of my drink. “I like the look of him. Ya know?” 

Zendaya scoffed at me. “I like the look of him too, but you’re on something else here.” There was a pause between the two of us, and Zen’s mouth split into a smile. “Five bucks.” 

“For what?” I asked. 

“You can’t get his number,” Zen said. “I’ll give you five whole dollars if you get his phone number.”

“You don’t have five dollars,” I said playfully, with narrowed eyes. “You don’t even have two coins to rub together.”

“Right, and who bought your drink?” Zen asked. “C’mon, you need to put yourself out there. Ever since you and Jacob broke up, it’s been nothing but… Sad. Your room’s a cave, Y/N. Will you do this for me?” 

I cast a glance at the guy once more, and I sighed. “Why not?” I mumbled under my breath. “But I had better get that fucking money, or I’ll take away your apartment privileges.” 

“I pay half of the rent, fuck you,” Zen laughed. “Go. Go!” 

“I am!” I giggled, and I slid myself out of the booth. The pub was bustling with nightly business, and I edged my way past a group of girls to find a place at the bar. My plan of attack was to order a drink and strike up a conversation with this guy, and grab his phone number before I left. Lucky for me, there was an empty space next to him, and I leaned against the bar with my forearms. 

“Oh, hey, good lookin’!” the bartender, Jake, exclaimed. He was a close friend of mine, hence why I always chose to drink at this particular bar. Our freshman year, he lived in the room across the hall from me, and we frequented each other for screwdrivers (of both varieties) all year. Since then, we continued to grow close. “What’s cooking?”

“Not a lot, Gyllenhaal,” I replied, and our hands met in a quick dap. “Lemme get a rum and Coke.”

“Sure thing,” Jake said. “Gimme two minutes. We’ve got a bachelorette party in the back.” 

“No problem,” I replied, and I watched Jake slide to the other side of the bar. 

The game was now on. I looked over my shoulder to Zendaya briefly, just for long enough to gauge that she was laughing at me, and I cast her a look before turning back. Then, I looked back over my other shoulder, the one closest to the guy, and I caught sight of a book he had. “What’re you reading there?” 

He looked up at me with big brown eyes, and my breath caught in my chest. From far away, he was hot but, up close, he was totally something else. He had strands of ginger in his dark hair, and his fingers closed the book in order to look at the cover, like he himself wasn’t sure of what he was reading. “Chaos Walking,” he answered, and my eyes widened. His voice was gorgeous, pitched low, accented with a London attitude. “My mate told me I’d like it.”

“Don’t think I’ve read that,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “What’s it about?” 

“Well,” he began and laughed lightly. “A lot. Basically, though, it follows a boy who lives in a world with no girls, where you can hear others thoughts, and he meets a girl. It’s sci-fi and… I dunno.” 

“Is it a good read?” I asked. “You seem like you enjoy it.” The book was battered, the paper cover torn and creased, with the spine broken. It was a book that was well-loved, and I liked how his entire being seemed to reflect the book. 

“Oh, I love it,” he said with a smile. “It’s so fun, ya know? The entirety of the story is incredible.” Then, a beat passed, and he added, “I’m Tom.” 

“Well, hi,” I said and gave him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N. No offense, but this sorta place doesn’t seem like your vibe.” 

Tom gave the front of the book a firm pat. “It’s not,” he said. “I was waiting on a friend but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be joining me tonight.”

“I didn’t think so,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “You seem like a coffee shop kinda guy.”

“You don’t quite seem like the sort to be here either,” Tom told me. 

“How do you mean?”

“You don’t belong in a pub like this, I just know it,” Tom told me. “You’d be better suited somewhere else.” 

I shrugged. “I usually don’t leave my apartment to drink,” I said. “But I’m friends with the bartender and I visit every so often just to say hi.” A moment passed. “Wait, back up. Where would I be better suited?” 

Tom smiled, but it seemed more hesitant than before. “At the risk of being bold,” he started. “My flat.” 

“Jesus!” I breathed, and my face went hot. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That was-- I’m so sorry--”

“No, no!” I said quickly. “No, it’s not a problem, I promise. That was bold, Tom, but I don’t mind it. As a matter of fact, I think you might be right.” 

“Glad we agree,” Tom said. “D’you wanna get out of here now?” 

“Sure thing,” I said. My skin prickled at the thought of him against me, and I laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Let me get my bag.” 

When I approached the booth, Zendaya stuck her tongue at me. “You lost,” she said. 

“Did I?” I asked, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. “Or am I going home with him?” 

“Shut up,” Zen laughed. “That was quick as hell.” 

“That tends to happen,” I shrugged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Tom.” 

“I hate you,” I heard Zen mutter as I turned away from her. 

Tom’s apartment--his flat, as he called it--was just a short cab ride from the bar, and I had hardly passed through the front door before his hands were pressing into my waist and his mouth was on mine. In an instant, I had melted into him, and my hands tangled in the bottom of his shirt. His mouth tasted like whiskey, which felt totally in-character for him, and he carefully nipped at my bottom lip. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Tom whispered, and he pushed my hair from my neck in order to brush his lips against my throat. No guys in my past had ever told me that in such clear terms, and my entire body ran hot at his words. A shiver ran down my spine, and he huffed a laugh into my neck. “Do you like when I say that?”

“I just like the way you talk,” I admitted. “Could listen forever.” 

“That’s an awfully long time,” Tom told me warmly. His slender fingers inched under my shirt to touch my bare skin, and he slid his hands to lay flat against the small of my back. His kisses lingered on my neck, and the feeling of his soft skin was so lovely. “Let’s start with tonight.” 

“I can manage that,” I laughed. “Bed?” 

As soon as I was down in his bed, Tom was working my shirt off. His hands were so strong and sure against me, and I had no hesitations in letting him do whatever he pleased. His kisses trailed down to my stomach and chest once they were bare to him, and the feel of his mouth on my hip made me take a fistful of those pretty brown waves of his. He just laughed and continued his pursuit downwards, and he rid me of my jeans and panties before pausing and looking up at me. “Is this alright?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” I said. “Just… Yeah.”

“Good girl,” Tom whispered, and I swore I died right there. He took my leg in his strong grip and kissed my inner thigh, and he placed the softest kiss to my quivering cunt. I immediately knew that I was in good hands, and I let my body relax and submit to Tom. His shoulders nudged my legs open further as he pressed his warm tongue to my wetness, and I bit back a moan as I tried to keep my legs from closing. I was already shaking, which was honestly embarrassing, but Tom didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seemed to encourage him, because he placed a series of sloppy kisses to my throbbing clit that made me squeal. Then, his mouth went straight to where I was leaking, and an obscene slurping filled the air. Fuck, he was good. 

“Oh my God,” I whispered, and his fingers quickly joined his tongue. First one, then two, then his thumb met my clit, and I whimpered. “Oh, fuck, oh my God.” 

“No need to call me that,” Tom whispered. His breath was hot against my wet cunt, his voice raspy, and I couldn’t help the fluttering that enveloped his fingers. “Just my name will do for now.”

The combination of his fingers and mouth made my stomach quiver, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I came. I had never come just from being eaten out, and my heart raged against my ribcage when I dared to imagine what came next. His thumb moved slowly around my clit, and his mouth replaced it as his fingers moved in me deliciously. His tongue, so skilled and quick, took up his thumb’s previous job, and he took the throbbing bud into his mouth and quickly nipped it with his teeth at the same moment that his fingertips found home inside me. 

There was no hope of obscuring my moan. “Fuck!” I yelped, writhing in his grip. “T-Tom, fuck.”

“Do you wanna come?” Tom whispered, looking at me through his eyelashes. “Use your words, my darling, please.” 

“Please, please,” I gasped. My head fell back to expose my neck, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My breathing was ragged, and a shock of electricity raced through my whole body when he laughed into my cunt. 

“Such a needy girl,” Tom chuckled. “You don’t have to ask. Whenever you’re ready, just let me know.” 

He lapped at my wet cunt, tasting me like he had dreamt of this, and my hand went from his hair to his shoulder. His waves and curls fell into his eyes, but he kept at his work, even when I pushed at his shoulder. “Tommy,” I whimpered out helplessly. “I-I’m gonna-- You--”

“My darling,” Tom said. “I want you to come on my tongue. Let me taste you, babygirl. Come for me.” 

My bottom lip was bitten nearly raw, and it only became worse when he said that. I nearly tasted blood as he gave my cunt one last kiss, so much more gentle than what he had been doing before, and my hips stuttered as hot pleasure pulsed through every part of me. I grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tugged him close, and he came to lay with his hips between my legs. My vision was blurry with tears as I studied him, oh so close to me now, and I felt a tiny pride at his pink cheeks and glistening lips. That was all me. “Oh, thank you,” I whispered, and he sweetly kissed each of my cheeks. “That was so good.” 

“I’m glad,” Tom said. “Secretly, I pride myself in being able to do that.” 

“You should be proud of that,” I huffed. “Also… ‘my god’?” 

“That was in jest,” Tom began with a light laugh. 

“I know,” I said. My hands trailed up his back, hiking his shirt up to his shoulders, and he helped me in tugging it off. He shook his hair out once it passed his head, and I added, “It’s a fitting name, though.” 

“Really?” He asked, bracing himself above me. “Am I a god, Y/N?”

“Close to it,” I told him. I noticed the way that my hands were trembling as I went to his belt, and he must have noticed as well, because his hands went to my wrists. His hands fit all the way around my wrists easily. It wasn’t rough or dominating by any means; his hands slid up from my wrists to grasp my hands, fingers interlocking with mine as he pressed my hands down beside my head. 

“Take a deep breath, my darling,” Tom told me gently. His thumb made comforting circles on my hand, and my stomach went all fluttery at how serene it was. “You’re shaking so hard. Do we need to stop?” 

“No,” I told him. “I’m alright. I promise.” 

“Alright,” Tom said. “Let me know if we need to stop.” 

I nodded quickly, reaching for a handful of his hair, and I tugged him down to kiss me. I could taste myself on his mouth and, normally, that would have irked me, but with Tom, it only made my thighs tense and warmth spread through my body. My skin rippled at each touch of his fingers, and I let out little mumblings of his name as he kissed my neck and shoulders. 

A surge of boldness ran up my spine, and I moved my hands from where he had placed them back down to his belt. As it seemed was the norm, he was two steps ahead of me, because he was already in the process of leaning back and pulling off his pants. The bedroom was cast only in the soft light of the lamp beside the bed, but I still captured every freckle, hair, and ridge on Tom’s firm chest and stomach. He was the definition of the skinny white guy that had good dick. Or, at least, he gave good head. But someone that good at giving head had to be as skilled elsewhere, right? 

He was back on me in an instant, kissing my neck and making little marks on my skin as I shoved his pants down his thighs. Tom’s hands captured my legs and drew them around his naked waist, and I gasped aloud when I felt his hard cock brush against my cunt, already throbbing once more. In fear of seeming dumb, I didn’t intentionally look, but I could feel the weight of his cock against my body, and I stuttered, “God, Tommy..” 

“That impressive, huh?” Tom laughed.  

“Of course,” I remarked. “What, have you never been told you have a big cock before?”

Tom lifted his head from my neck, and I let out a giggle at his blown-wide pupils and red cheeks. “Where the hell have you been all my life?” He asked with a smile. He laughed, and I noticed the way that wrinkles formed right by his eyes with the extremity of his smile. That was adorable as hell. “You’re gorgeous and so funny, and you’re complimenting me like this? You’re perfect.” 

“I’ve just been waiting for you, I guess,” I shrugged and ran my hands over his built arms, rock solid like a statue. 

“Sorry it took me so long to find you,” Tom smiled. “Traffic was a bitch.” 

I laughed, my head falling back onto the pillows, and Tom situated the head of his cock at my folds. At the feel of it, I gasped, and he swallowed my gasp with a kiss. “Let me know if we need to stop,” he reminded me, kissing my chin gently. 

“I’m fine,” I told him, even though I was shaking so fiercely. Tom sank himself into me, and the deep rumble of his moan made my back arch up against him. “Fuck, darling,” he mumbled. “Cunt’s so tight… Squeezing the hell outta me.” His fingers dug into my hip, surely leaving bruises to later admire, and he snapped his hips forward so that he was fully in me. 

“More,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what I wanted more of; I just knew that I wanted more of whatever he ended up giving me. 

My whole body thrummed with blood and life as he fucked me, pausing to pant into my neck and kiss my mouth. His back was taut with hard muscles and I raked my fingers down to his waist and back up to his hair. A curl had escaped the rest of his hair and bounced against my forehead with each thrust, and Tom and I each huffed out a laugh at it. Silently, I reached up and twisted the perfect curl around my finger, and Tom gave me another eye-wrinkling smile.

“F-Fuck, darling,” Tom muttered, and I could tell by his stuttering that he was close. The rhythm of his hips had slowed, but his grip on my waist and legs was as tight as ever. “So fuckin good for me, God.” 

“I’m getting close again, Tommy,” I told him, my voice shaking. I’m sure he already knew, what with the way my chest was hot and my breathing was erratic, but I still wanted to see the look on his face when I said it.

“Oh, me too, my darling,” Tom whispered. His hand fell from its place at my hip and came to rest on my stomach, just above the point where he had himself buried inside me, and his thumb-- that damned thumb of his-- slid down until he was playing with my clit once more. There was an urgency this time, though, his movements quicker and messier. With each thrust, his own belly quivered, and I desperately pulled at his hair. I needed him to come first. I needed to feel him spill himself inside of me. I needed to feel his cum leak out of me, to hear him laugh at the mess we made like I knew he would. I needed so much. I just needed him.

“Tommy,” I whimpered, keening into his touch. “Fuck, Tom--”

His lips crashed into mine, and that was all it took. My legs shook around his waist, and my vision went white-hot for a moment. His thrusts were messy, his waves and curls completely undone and hanging in his eyes, and he watched with a greedy gaze as I writhed under him. I pulled his head down into my neck and he resumed his work of nipping my skin and soothing the sting with his tongue, and I kissed the shell of his ear. “Oh, Tom,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear over the sounds of our shared gasps. “Please, for me?” 

He pulled himself from me and was spilling in an instant, covering my waist and stomach in his warm cum. He settled himself on his elbows above me once again, and I took care to brush those waves off of his forehead. His hair had gone super curly with the little bit of sweat on his forehead, and I bit the tip of my tongue. “Yeah?” I whispered. 

“Yeah,” Tom agreed. “Let me get you a towel. Stay right there.”

“Wasn’t really planning on going anywhere, honestly,” I laughed. 

When he returned, he was wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt that hugged his muscled frame. He sat beside me and carefully wiped me clean with the wet corner of a towel, and he placed a sweet kiss on my forehead. “Are you feeling alright?” Tom asked. “Can I get you anything?” 

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Thanks, though.”

“No worries,” Tom told me. “You’re welcome to stay the night, if you’d like. I must warn you, though, that I like to cuddle.” 

“I would have expected nothing less,” I told him. I sat up, testing my legs for a moment, and my cheeks went hot. “Umm… I don’t think I can walk.” 

Tom’s eyes went big for a moment, and he reached for me with a hesitant hand. “Are you kidding?” He asked. 

“My legs are shaking too hard,” I whispered and bit my lip. 

“Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry,” Tom told me, his eyebrows pitching up. “I truly didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“You didn’t,” I said quickly. “It’s… This is a good thing. I promise.” 

There was a brief exchange that ended with Tom giving me a shirt to sleep in and me promising him that I won’t try to walk until my legs quit shaking. We found each other again once in bed, my head fitting snugly under his chin, and his fingernails lightly scratched up and down my back. The feel of his strong arms around me, holding me in such a protective way, lulled me to sleep. 

The night passed under a thin veil of dreams. All too soon, an alarm began to blare, scaring me fully awake in a second. From the darkness, there was a groan of displeasure, and a grunt as the bed squeaked and shifted, and the alarm was turned off with a solid stab of a finger. “Sorry, darling,” Tom whispered. “I forgot I have an early morning today.” 

“You’re fine,” I whispered. The lamp turned on, and I was met with Tom, his hair messy and frizzy, his face flushed with good sleep. I stretched my arms above my head, allowing a quick squeal, and I said, “I should probably be heading out soon too. I have an eight AM.”

“Ugh,” Tom groaned. “I hate those.” 

“Right,” I agreed. “Who wants to learn at eight in the morning?”

“The poor instructor,” Tom laughed. His voice was lower than before, scratchy as well, and my chest warmed at the sound. He fixed his hair out of his face, and he turned to see me, still wrapped up in his shirt and blankets. “You look cozy.” 

“I am,” I said softly. “Wish I could stay for just a little longer.” 

“Pursuit of knowledge is an honorable one, though, darling,” Tom told me. “Would you like to shower first?” 

“No,” I said. “I have to go by my apartment to get my stuff and change clothes anyway, I’ll just shower there.” 

“Alright,” Tom nodded. He reached for me and I met him halfway, brushing my lips to his in a soft kiss, and he gave me a light laugh. “I need to get your phone number. I’d love to do this again.” 

“I’d like that too,” I said. I gave him a parting kiss, then worked myself from the bed. I stretched once more, feeling my back pop, and I found my bag by the door to the bedroom. I gave Tom my phone, open to a new contact listing, and he gave a mischievous smile before plugging in his information. “What’s that smile all about?” 

At the top of my screen, it read Big Dick Tom. 

“Oh, God,” I laughed. “That’s really gone to your head, hasn’t it?” 

“You’re the one who told me that,” Tom argued. “And, if someone tells you that you have a big dick, you take that shit to heart.” 

“Sure, sure,” I said quickly. “I’ll text you; maybe we can get dinner this weekend?”

Tom gave me a smile that was fit for a king. “Of course, my darling girl.” 

Tom ended up sending me home with the shirt I had slept in. It was for some carpentry school in Wales, but it was soft and smelled like Tom, so I didn’t really mind the odd reference. Just before I left, he had swept me up in his arms and kissed me, and he pressed his forehead to mine. “This might be premature,” he whispered. “But do you wanna be my girlfriend?” 

Zendaya slapped a five dollar bill in my hand when I entered the apartment. “Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“The best,” I told her. “He’s super sweet and a great time, and he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“You said yes, right?” Zen asked.

“Duh,” I scoffed. “A hot Brit who likes me? I’m not letting that go.”

“Right,” Zen said, and the smile dropped from her face. “Well, while you were off getting dick from your new man, our literature professor dipped.” 

“What?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” Zen said, spinning her laptop to face me. She had an email pulled up from the head of the department, declaring that our professor, our beloved Dr. Osterfield, would not be teaching the course any longer. Buried in the text of the email, it said the name of the replacement professor: Dr. Holland. “I tried to look this guy up, but he’s not on Rate My Professor or anything.” 

“It’s halfway through the fuckin’ semester,” I groaned. “This blows.” 

“I just hope this new guy’s easy,” Zen groaned. “I can’t deal with a hard class right now.” 

The class was still held in the same room as before, and the general air was worse than a normal eight AM. At least, with Dr. O, he had an infectious energy that woke us all up. Nobody knew what to expect with this new guy. I hoped that, for my sake, he was cool. 

The door to the classroom opened, and a man said, “I apologize for the wait. It’s just my luck that I’d be late today…” 

My whole body went cold and my heart stopped. Tom. My boyfriend, my fucking Tom stood at the front of the small lecture hall, wearing the jeans and white buttoned shirt that I had helped pick out. “Well, this is a strange thing, isn’t it?” Tom chuckled, clasping his hands together. “I’ll explain, don’t worry. But first, I think maybe an introduction is in order.” 

He unwound his bag from his shoulder and opened it for a moment, and a whole new wave of dread washed over me. While he was in the shower, I had written him a quick note and stuck it in his bag. It was nothing more than “thanks, love. hope to see you soon xx”, but a smile split his face wide. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Apparently, my girlfriend left me a little note. Hmm! Anyway, I’m Dr. Holland. Call me that, or Tom, or any variation of the above. I promise you, I’ve heard it all.” 

Tom settled himself on the edge of his desk and he fluffed up his hair a bit. It was then that a quiet wave of titters passed through every girl in the hall; a hickey. It was small, but it was there, right under his ear. “I went to school in London, where I’m from, before I got a degree in English literature from Cambridge. Then, I came to the States and managed to get my doctorate in it, and, who’d have guessed it, this is my first teaching job. Go easy on me, huh?.” My little note, written on a sticky note, was clasped in his hand, and I seriously wanted to die right then and there. My professor. I was stupid. Of course the stars had aligned (or misaligned?) to allow this to happen. And just when I thought I found the right guy, too. 

“Right,” Tom said. “Let’s look at the attendance, see what we’re working with, and I’ll let you guys fill me in on what Dr. Osterfield was covering.” 

The closer he got to my name, the colder my face went. I hated every single moment of it. “And… Y/L/N? Y/N?” 

I quietly raised my hand, then managed a meek, “Here.” 

His eyes trained on me, and I watched the same recognition flood his eyes. Quickly, though, Dr. Tom Holland averted his gaze back down to his computer, and he said, “There you are, Y/N… Can I see you after class?” 

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #smut fanfiction #prof!tom #i'm so excited for this yall #u don't get it

[luminari-mc]

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 2

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Genres: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 4642

Warnings: N/A

Summary: As a human and a demon get to enjoy the presence of one another again, Mammon knows deep down that behind this ephemeral bliss, hides a looming and powerful storm.

PART 1 - PART 2 -

A/N: it's almost Mammon's birthday! And as promised, here is part 2 of my little series! While part 1 was made to place several plot points here and there, this chapter really starts to set things in motion for future chapters, and especially part 3.

All I have to say here is... Enjoy the fluff while it lasts.

___________________________________________

For the first time in a while... the human world felt much more colorful. Much more silent. It was as if life itself had been born anew, the suffocating darkness engulfing the world having been cast away for the light to reclaim its rightful ownership. The evil dragon of separation had finally been put to rest, and so, the chirping of the birds quickly replaced the self-deprecating thoughts of the people.

The only question left on the people's minds, as their bodies embraced so close to one another throughout the night, rejoicing to finally be back in the other's company, was... for how long, would that blissful respite last?

The night had been deep and short, but much welcoming. The weariness that had taken over the couple's bodies over the past two months had thoroughly vanished, as if all of this had been nothing but a bad dream. How much they wished it had been the case, and that the kisses they had shared the previous night didn't have to be ones filled with the need to feel the other's presence so desperately, for their minds to realize that they were here, and he was here, together in the same room at long last.

A human hand gently caressed a white-haired head, the demon to which it belonged still soundly asleep. Despite it being a few hours after dawn, MC had only recently opened their eyes to the first rays of sunlight, finding themself still in the same position as they had fallen asleep in. Mammon's arms were still firmly wrapped around their frame, their proximity allowing him to breathe in the scent of their skin as his nose brushed against their collarbone each time his chest rose up in his sleep.

Remaining laid down on their side, the human could only keep still and watch the face of their demon in adoration, still unsure whether they really had him in their bed with him, or if the loneliness of the past few weeks had truly made them lose their mind beyond salvation.

But as their fingers gently passed in his hair, their caresses never ending, MC couldn't help but wonder... what had Mammon done since the last time they saw him? How had he spent his time in the Devildom? How were the others? And most importantly, how had he found his way to them? Not that much conversation had been achieved the previous night, to answer all of their questions... The two of them had quickly realized, as MC came to drag Mammon inside the apartment, their clothes damp from the rain that had been dripping from his body, that what they wanted, as their lips met again and again, weren't answers, but to feel each other. And before any of them could notice, they had both fallen into a deep slumber that lasted the entire night.

MC raised their head slightly to look out of the bay window on the other side of the room. Outside, they could partially perceive the colors of the other buildings of the city in the horizon, the sunlight reflecting on their windows brightly and making them squint their eyes in response. They would have preferred to be able to see the green of the trees lined up in the street below, but that was one of the many flaws of this place... the floor that Solomon had chosen for MC to reside in was just way, way too high up.

If it hadn't been for a pair of arms pulling them slightly forward, MC wouldn't have noticed the half-closed pair of blue eyes staring at them in silence. MC immediately lowered their side back against the mattress, their head meeting with the pillow once more. Under the covers, they moved a leg instinctively against Mammon's.

"Good morning." They whispered through a smile, a sound so affectionate to one demon's ears that his hand slid from under the blanket to place itself on the human's cheek.

"Is this a dream?"

Mammon's words surprised them, but only for a short second. The demon's expression was nothing but serious, a slightly furrowed brow adorning his forehead as if he was expecting to receive a positive, yet disappointing answer to his question. Instead, MC's smiled turned only sweeter. They closed their eyes before pulling Mammon closer to them.

"It's not a dream." They felt him place his face in the crook of their neck. "You're with me, and I'm with you. It's for real."

Almost as if he was holding back tears, Mammon inhaled deeply, before closing the empty space between his body and MC's until there was nothing left. Their hand was brought back to the back of his head, drawing slow circles in the hopes of soothing him.

"I still can't believe it." His words seemed to be on the verge of breaking up as they slipped through his gritted teeth. "It feels like you've been gone for a thousand years, even worse... Why the hell did I only find ya now..."

"Mammon..." MC opened their eyes again to urgently place a gentle kiss on top of the demon's head. "What's important is that you found me. It is much better than if a thousand years had really passed, don't you think?"

Mammon's head leaned away from the warmth of their neck, his glassy eyes able to meeting theirs again. His mouth stayed agape for a few seconds, before both of his hands cupped MC's face in place.

"I know I asked last night, but you sure you're okay, right? Nobody has hurt you or experimented on you or anythin'?"

"I'm okay, Mammon." They placed their hands on top of his, a small chuckle escaping through their lips. "I swear, all I did was practice magic with Solomon and live a boring human life."

"But you sure it was normal magic? What if it was some weird spells and he was secretly messing with your body without you knowing?"

His worry made them sigh softly, their thumbs brushing the back of his hands. It was understandable for him to be so concerned for their safety, after receiving no news in such a long time. And the demons had always been wary of Solomon ever since they had known the wizard, to the point where MC themself, had even grown to wonder why Solomon had been acting the way he did, since they had gone back to the human world.

"I promise you." They responded, yet unsure themself of the veracity of their words. "Nothing has been done to me."

Silence fell between the both of them again, a staring contest where Mammon was expecting them to let go of a much harder truth, which never came. He was the first to break eye contact, rather preferring to stare into the space between MC's head and the pillow.

"Solomon... He's hidin' something too. I just know it"

His sudden pouting mouth and words made MC blink. "Too? What do you mean...?"

After marking a wordless pause, Mammon's hands slid off their cheeks, his upper body rising up as he sat himself into the bed. The sheets fell onto his hips, leaving his arm exposed for MC to grab in case he was trying to avoid their question and get up. But instead, all he did was pass a hand through his hair as a deep sigh left his lungs.

"Mammon?" MC called out, their voice starting to show concern due to the demon's sudden secrecy. But as they read his expression a bit more clearly from their laid position in the bed, and as they watched the creases between his eyebrows form, and his jaw clenching, they realized that... Mammon probably knew more about all this than themself.

"A... A lot of shit went down ever since you left, MC." The demon kept his palm in his hair, leaving his forehead exposed. "It's gone bad, and I just... I-I just dunno what to do anymore."

It wouldn't take a genius to see how perturbed Mammon was about this subject- you just had to see the way his fingers had wrapped around his own hair, almost as if he was about to pull a handful, the questions in his mind twirling in a never-ending whirlpool of torment. One thing MC was grateful for, however, was how much more open he had become with them ever since they had known each other.

As MC propped themself on their elbow, they allowed their hand to wander up and down Mammon's arm to remind him of their presence.

"... Do you want some breakfast? I'd rather you explain everything while stuffing yourself with waffles. I make them delicious, I promise."

Although he glanced at them from the corner of his eyes, his pout only seemed to double. MC stopped their hand from rubbing his skin before placing it above his own, their thumb gently brushing the back of it. Like a timid child, his cheeks darkened, letting his voice, now low, respond to their question.

"I... could go with some of your waffles."

After putting some clothes on, apart from Mammon who could only rely on one of MC's loose jogging pants due to his clothes from the previous night still dripping wet on a nearby chair-, MC made their way to the kitchen to prepare something for their demon.

Throughout the whole process, Mammon never left their side. Once his arms had been locked around their frame from behind as they began preparing the waffles, he hadn't let go. His chin remained on their shoulder, his body moving alongside them whenever they had to go to a cabinet to grab a bowl, a whip, or even when they went to pick the different ingredients for the batter. MC had asked in the beginning "are you sure you don't want to sit at the table?", wanting him not to be standing more than his tired legs could bear. But their question was only met with a shaking of his head, before his forehead met with the warmth of their skin. "I'm good there", he had answered. And so MC let him hold on to them, enjoying the feeling of his arms around their waist, and the few kisses he would place here and there alongside their neck and cheek. This calm, this peace, this comfortable silence... they had forgotten what it felt like.

Once all the batter had been changed into hot and steamy waffles, and the rest of the breakfast had been made, the couple sat around the kitchen table.

"So... is it that bad?" MC placed their hands around their hot cup of cocoa, taking a sip of the drink as Mammon filled his mouth with a waffle he had covered in strawberry jam. MC had insisted that he was to eat his batch first, with him having barely eaten anything the previous day. Even if he was a demon, he needed to have a proper morning meal.

"It's almost as if you had never been in the house in the first place." Mammon answered after swallowing his bite. "Satan went back on being super pissy with Lucifer for the smallest things, Levi eats his meals in his room and never comes out. I see Asmo buyin' even more beauty products than usual and he's constantly askin' us if "this and that" suits him, to the point where it's ridiculous. Beel almost stopped eating entirely because he was too worried for ya. If it weren't for Belphie, he would have turned into a literal stick. Now Belphie sleeps more often too. And Lucifer, he..."

He stabbed one of the waffles with his fork, before tearing a piece of it with his teeth. MC's brow instantly furrowed with concern.

"He just has to know why we couldn't reach you. He's been lyin' through his teeth for weeks on end, but he thinks he's being so sly and that we're too dumb to see it." Another teared piece of the waffle disappeared into his mouth. "Like, sure, he's been way more on edge ever since you left the Devildom and even more after we've all started askin' why we couldn't talk to you, but that just shows that he knows somethin' and we don't."

With a slower movement, his fork planted into the remaining bits of the waffle. "But it's just... I don't understand, you get it? Why would he try to hide something about you from us? All of a sudden we can't send you texts or call you like we used to everytime you had to come back to the human world, and out of nowhere he starts actin' all weird about it. It's just..."

MC noticed Mammon's jaw clenching, his hand and fork immobile as it stayed firmly planted into the waffle. The demon swallowed harshly, letting the human know how the situation back at home must have been for him. Without their presence, the brothers had turned back into their previous selves, if not worse.

"What about you?" They asked, making the second-born jerk his head upward at them. "How are you feeling?"

"M-Me? It's... not important." He looked away shamefully, the pressure on the fork increasing and his nail starting to dig into his palm.

"Mammon." Their hand reached forward to wrap itself around the one that was holding the fork. "If my absence has been affecting everyone like this... I want to know how you dealt with it, too."

They patiently waited until Mammon finally dared cross his gaze with their own once again.

"I... dammit, don't laugh, okay?" He muttered. "But, I guess when we learned you didn't have your D.D.D. with ya back in the human world, I was the one with took it the worst... I grew tired of Lucifer tellin' me to be patient and wait for a replacement to get to ya, and I kinda ran to Lord Diavolo and ended up throwing a hissy fit in the middle of the throne room. Barbatos didn't like it, and neither did Lucifer. I still don't know why, but Lucifer didn't strung me from the ceiling on that day. Actually, he's mostly been yelling at us more than punishing. But I guess it doesn't really matter, since the others went all back on ganging up on me for any mistake I make."

Just as Mammon finally brought the rest of the waffle into his mouth in the hopes of not breaking up into a groaning mess, MC could swear they felt their heart sink within them. It sounded exactly like what Mammon had said. The brothers had all gone back to their old ways, with Mammon ending up as the punching bag once again. And all because they weren't around anymore?

"I'm... I'm sorry." Their throat tightened, a sense of guilt starting to wash over them. "If I knew you guys were having it this bad, I'd- I should have been way more insistent with Solomon, I should have kept asking to see you more than I did when-"

"Wha- No no, hey, it's not your fault!" Mammon exclaimed, panic settling in as MC started taking the blame on themself. "I mean, no one coulda thought that you'd be gone for this long... And that we'd be all negative for not being able to call you and stuff..."

Mammon passed a hand over his neck, the other covering MC's fist with its warmth. His eyes drifted to the side.

"We just... ya know. Grew used to havin' ya around. Guess it messed up our heads pretty good, and in the end, hatin' on each other seemed like the only solution to keep us busy.... I think."

MC's stomach churned uncomfortably as they sat there silently, slowly processing Mammon's words. What they wouldn't give to have sensed sooner that the brothers were also out of the loop in this situation, and ask Solomon for answers in the first few weeks after being back in the human world with him. How could they have been so passive about this? How could they have been so blind?

"MC."

Mammon's voice pulled them out of their thoughts, as they raised their eyes back onto him. "Huh?"

"What did Solomon say? About you not being able to see us?"

"Hum..." Their brain replayed the fuzzy memories of what happened two months earlier.

"Well, you remember how we all said our goodbyes to each other before I left the Devildom? It was in the student's council meeting room, like usual. But Diavolo had said that I would need to fill some papers before entering the portal, so I guess since we all were used to saying goodbye like this by now, we didn't really see the harm in having you brothers all leave the room before I entered the portal."

They instinctively bit the corner of their bottom lip. "Which left me, Barbatos and Diavolo in the room. Diavolo said something about needing my D.D.D. to replace it with an upgraded version, which I thought was weird at the time since Karasu had always warned me when it needed repairs or to update an app. But I trusted Diavolo, so I gave it to him, and he said I should receive the new one shortly through Solomon. After that, I got into the portal, but never received the phone, and Solomon started saying all these excuses..."

"What excuses?" Mammon asked, pressing on the matter out of curiosity, but mostly because of the bubbling rage that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.

"At first he explained that the new D.D.D. took some time to be shipped to Lord Diavolo, but-- it's Lord Diavolo, the literal demon prince. He knows how much I like to communicate with all of you while I'm up there, so I couldn't understand why he simply couldn't ask for the shipping to go a bit faster?" MC started moving their free hand around as they continued to explain their version of the story. "Then Solomon suddenly switched from the phone taking time to be shipped to... saying that the Devildom was dealing with some dangerous threat that came out of nowhere, and that I needed to stay away until the matter was dealt with. But in the end it just... made me want to know if you guys were okay even more..."

Neither Mammon nor MC had realized, nor heard, that a crack had begun to form under Mammon's firm grip on the edge of the table. The more he learned how many lies had been thrown in their face by the wizard, the more pressure Mammon was putting on his closed teeth. He couldn't believe Solomon had told them that they were in danger, when absolutely nothing eventful had happened during their absence. What was wrong with this guy, Lord Diavolo and Lucifer? The demon searched in his mind again and again, why his older brother would make up such an alliance with Solomon, especially to keep MC at bay- wasn't he supposed to care for them, too?

"I've heard enough." He hissed, the wood cracking even more under his palm. "Once I know what the fuck is going on with those two, I'm bringing you back home."

"Wait-" MC exclaimed, panic in their voice. "I-It has to be for a reason, right? That your story and mine aren't the same? I just- I don't understand why Diavolo and Lucifer would lie to me so that I stay in the human world, especially when they were acting like usual before I left."

"Reason or not, I don't fucking care. Shouldn't they have at least let us know if something was up?" Mammon's hands retrieved from both the table and MC's, the demon grasping the fabric of his pants harshly as he shook his head in disbelief. "Think about it, MC. If they all made up a bunch of lies so that we wouldn't be able to contact you, then it means that you're involved in this. Whatever problem it is they're hiding, they should tell you what it is, and not straight up throw you away in the human world as if neither you or ME would care about it."

The demon let out a frustrated groan as his eyes closed firmly, Mammon not understanding anything of the situation. If he and MC wanted answers, it would require to go back to either Solomon or Lucifer, but either of those options weren't at the top of his priorities right now. All he wanted at the moment, was to make sure that MC would remain safe, if they indeed were at the center of all this. He didn't want to lose them again. Two months of radio silence had already been hard enough. No, now, he would remain with them at all times. No matter if the obstacles ended up being a wizard, the demon prince, or his literal older brother.

MC's arms wrapping around his shoulders pulled him out of his dark thoughts. He opened his eyes, feeling them sitting on his lap as they hid their face into his neck. Their embrace was strong, but at the same time, gentle and comforting. He instantly felt himself melt in his seat. Slowly, his shoulders dropped, and his arms circled the human he loved the most.

"I swear it." He muttered, looking into the empty space behind them. "I'll bring you back to the house. Everyone's missing you, and... I miss you, too."

MC nodded against his neck. "I'd love that. I miss the others. I miss my room there. And you always barging in without notice."

"O-Oh, yeah, about that-" Mammon pulled them slightly away by the shoulders so he could face them. "I kinda forgot to tell ya, but... when you weren't here, I sorta felt really alone, having to sleep in my room without you around, so... uh, what I mean is that- I kinda brought most of my stuff in your-"

The demon's sentence was cut short by the melody of a ringtone at the other end of the table. Mammon looked instantly at MC's phone, arching an eyebrow both for being interrupted, but also wondering who could be calling them on their human phone at this hour.

"Ah- it's probably Solomon. He was supposed to come visit yesterday, but postponed it to today instead." MC said, not without a hint of disappointment in their voice as they got up from Mammon's lap to go grab their phone.

Mammon growled, already preparing himself mentally for possibly having the occasion to yell at the wizard for all the mess he caused, but his plan was immediately stopped by MC, who had put a finger on their lips. While Mammon started pouting, MC pressed the sleep button on the side of the phone, but opened their eyes wide as the name of the caller was written in what seemed like... the Devildom's language.

"It's- not Solomon?"

Their thumb swapped over the Accept button, and just as they placed the phone over their ear and were about to ask who it was, a voice, way too familiar to them, answered first.

"M-MC.. ?" The broken sobs mixed with the voice of none other than Leviathan, almost made MC forget how to breathe. "Aahh, I'm so glad... I-I wasn't sure if- sniffle..."

"Levi?" MC clasped their other hand over the phone, alerted by the state of the demon on the other side of the line. Behind them, Mammon practically jumped out of his seat.

"Levi?! Put him on speaker!"

MC obeyed him, quickly turning the speaker on and putting the phone in-between the two of them. The third-born's voice could now be heard in the entire room, as his desperate cries continued.

"Yo, Levi, why are you crying?! And how did you figure out how to call MC's phone?!" Mammon shouted, before approaching the phone to listen more closely. "Hey, is that Asmo I'm hearin'? Is he with you? What's happening??"

"Mammon... we were so worried- that you wouldn't find them..." Levi continued, as several people could be heard in the background, seemingly arguing with each other. "I tried really hard you know... I'm so, so sorry MC... I really tried... Please, please forgive me, I tried..."

"T-Tried? Wha- What did you try, Levi?" MC asked nervously, a knot starting to form in their throat. But the only answer they received from Leviathan, was a louder sob, soon followed by muffled cries as if the demon had stuffed his face into a pillow.

"Here- Levi, I'll talk to them." Another voice replaced Levi's, this one more composed in its tone. It increased in volume as the owner brought the phone closer to their face. "MC, Mammon? Are you still there?"

"Satan..." MC whispered, a hand placed over their chest. It had been so long since they had heard either of the other demons' voices.

"Hey, Satan, what's wrong with Levi?! I keep hearin' the others talking behind you too! I leave you guys for one day and already one of you is bawling his eyes out?!" Mammon asked urgently, obvious worry in his voice for his brother. As if the whole trip to the human world hadn't already been anxiety inducing, now something had happened within the House of Lamentation, and he wasn't there to check up on them.

On the other side of the phone, Satan clicked his tongue.

"After helping you find MC's location, Levi spent hours learning how to call a human phone with a demon one... literal hours. I'm glad it worked." He paused. "Everything would have turned out alright, if only it hadn't been for him."

While MC blinked in confusion, Mammon's breath was caught in his throat. His face turned pale, and his brow furrowed even more as the realization of what the fourth-born was trying to tell him washed over him.

"Wait... Don't tell me-"

"He's gone way too far this time." Satan hissed. Behind him, the voices of the other brothers turned quieter, the blonde demon moving away from them. "You have to leave wherever you are. While you didn't know where MC was, Mammon, I'm not doubting that he does. I don't know why he's acting the way he is but... I'm worried about MC. Mammon, you have to get them away from him."

"Wait, Satan, are you talking about-"

Two dry knocks came from the entrance door, and MC immediately shut themself up, quickly pressing the speaker off. Flipping their head alongside Mammon's towards the sound, the two's breaths turned slow and their bodies immobile, like deers caught in headlights. Neither of them dared make a sound, nor move a muscle, their eyes glued to the wood of the door as they waited for additional knocks, which never came.

Instead, after a silence that seemed to last forever, with only the now small voice of Satan hurriedly asking them from the phone if they were alright, a hue began emanating on the door. A red circle, shining a light that resembled a laser's glow, drew in the center. Several patterns followed and appeared within it, and before MC could take a step towards it, as they finally understood who was on the other side, Mammon's body immediately blocked them from advancing.

"Mammon-"

The demon raised an arm out, preventing MC from moving further away from the table. The human didn't have to see his face to know that he was preparing himself for anything- his tensed body in front of them spoke for himself.

His inner thoughts from a few minutes ago resurfaced in a flash upon sensing MC's hand on his back. No more separation. He had to protect them- stay with them. No matter the obstacle.

Even if this obstacle, turned out to be his own older brother.

"He's here."

#thanks for reading! #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me mammon x mc #obey me angst #obey me story #obey me series #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me writing #mammon x mc #obey me swd mammon #omswd #omswd mammon #obey me mc x mammon #obey me fandom #obey me gn!mc #vel's writing #obey me mhms #my human my sunshine

[novelconcepts]

for the prompt, please do dani and jamie with 22 thank you :)

prompt: kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches

Jamie can’t remember the last time she needed someone to tend her cuts and scrapes. Can’t remember, even, the last time she wanted as much from another person. There’s something too vulnerable about holding out an open wound and saying, Here. Please. I can’t do it alone. 

Jamie can do it alone, is the thing. Has done for so long, she’s forgotten what it was to want another person’s skin brushing her own, another person’s eyes concerned for her well-being. It’s become second-nature, pushing all of that aside. How many times has she wandered into the kitchen, a cloth pressed firmly to a torn-open patch of wrist or palm, and scoffed at Owen’s worry? How many times has Hannah strolled into the room to find her bracing an ice pack against a freshly-bruised knee, rolling her eyes heavenward at her own clumsy misfortune? It’s natural, courting injury as she maneuvers the grounds. Almost easier than it should be. 

She’s never wanted anyone to fix it for her. Never trusted, if she’s honest, anyone to have the touch. People are too soft. Too twitchy about doing damage. As if there’s any helping a thing like that.

She’s never wanted it--

But Dani, meeting her in the doorway of the greenhouse, has an expression she’s never seen before. Not open worry, not nauseous distaste--an almost perfect, steady calm. 

“Let me.”

No question mark at the end of the sentence. No hopeful sway to Dani’s hips, no itchy pull of Dani’s fingers along the elbows of her own jumper. Dani’s face is set, determined, almost as though she’s been waiting for this day since the first time their eyes met. 

“No need,” Jamie says, though her head is pounding. Dani is plainly unimpressed. 

“C’mere. Sit down.”

She can’t explain why she obeys; her body seems primed to follow instruction, perhaps as evidence of a concussion. There is a split above her brow where a tumbling branch caught her just right, and privately, she’s relieved--that it was her standing beneath the tree as the wind jerked it out of place, and not one of the kids. Jamie had been quick enough to dodge aside. If it had been Flora, if it had been Miles...

Better me. I can take it.

Dani has a kit in hand, she realizes, lifted from the manor bathroom. Sitting beside Jamie on the sofa, she tears open a single-use alcohol wipe. She hesitates only once, one hand hovering beside Jamie’s jaw; when Jamie nods, that hand takes her chin, fingers splayed gently to tip her head back. 

“Deep breath.”

“I’m fine,” Jamie starts to say, the words hissing out of her when Dani angles the wipe against the edge of the wound. It’s small, thankfully--the branch had been, too, though Jamie knows better than anyone that size is no measure of danger--but the sting clenches her teeth together. She closes her eyes, trying her best to disassemble the pain and piece it back together into a more enjoyable sensation.

Not the burn, but the soft pressure of Dani’s hand on her skin.

Not the throb running a path along her skull, but the warmth of Dani’s breath mingling with her own.

Maybe this isn’t better, she realizes. Maybe it is infinitely worse, fixing on Dani’s knee pressed to her thigh, Dani’s hand cradling her cheek as though she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. Her eyes flick open to find Dani leaning close, inspecting the wound with an unflappable composure.  

“It isn’t deep,” she says. “Might scar a little, though.”

“Not my first,” Jamie quips before she can stop herself. Dani’s eyebrows raise, her lips curving in a small smile. 

“You’ve got stories.”

Not a question--and not a pressure, either. Just an easy statement. Sometimes, this is just Dani’s way: neat, straightforward, to the point. Jamie wonders what kind of life shapes a woman this way, to navigate the grip of anxiety one moment and turn utterly steadfast the next. She’d like to know. She’ll never push. Dani is a co-worker, nothing more; the last thing Jamie needs is to go crossing bounds again.

“Thank you,” she says, as Dani fishes out a bandage and some tape. “Didn’t, uh. Didn’t need--”

Dani silences her with another smile, tinged with something so like sadness, it puts any knock on the head to shame. “When I was little,” she says, “I was always getting hurt. I was a clumsy kid, I guess. Fell down a lot--out of trees, off my bike. My dad was always the one to take care of it.”

Jamie says nothing. This is the most Dani’s ever spoken directly to her, and she finds the bounce and curve of her Midwestern accent strangely comforting. 

“He wasn’t really a typical dad that way, I guess,” Dani goes on, gently holding the cotton bandage up to the wound. She reaches down, clasps Jamie’s wrist, eases her up to hold the square in place. “Hang onto that a sec. My dad, he was...softer than other kids’. He always knew how to clean my scrapes without making me cry. Never quite got the hang of that, after--he died when I was eight, I dunno if you knew that--”

Jamie shakes her head. Dani, patiently cutting a strip of tape, shrugs.

“Got sick. Was gone almost before I knew it. And my mom was never...much good at any of that, so I had to learn how to patch myself up. The alcohol was always the worst part. Almost.”

“Almost?” Jamie repeats. Dani is replacing her hand with deft fingers, adhering the bandage with simple efficiency. When she checks a mirror later, she suspects the whole affair will be neat, orderly, perfectly applied. 

“Yeah,” Dani says, leaning back to observe her handiwork. She seems satisfied, piling everything back into the first aid kit, closing it with a click. “Worst part was after. He would always find the best bandaid--something brightly-colored, or with cartoon characters--and then he’d lean over whatever I’d busted open that day, and he’d kiss the spot twice. Once for forgiveness, he always said, to let the skin know he didn’t blame it for bleeding. And once for healing. Two kisses, every time. It felt like magic. I could never...”

She quiets, her smile fading. It’s too easy for Jamie to imagine a small girl with a blonde braid, kissing her own scraped knee after a fall, knowing full-well it wouldn’t be the same. Too easy to imagine Dani at eight--eleven--thirteen, patching herself back together on her own. 

“Well,” Jamie says, clearing her throat. “You left a bit out, then.”

Dani raises her eyes, frowning. “Sorry?”

“Did the patching,” Jamie points out. Her mouth is weirdly dry, her head thundering away. This is, she senses, navigating too close to the brink of something. Friendship, maybe. Or just Dani thinking she’s making fun. And still, she can’t stop herself. “Seems like you forgot the magic.”

Dani hesitates, her hands folded in her lap. She’s picking, Jamie realizes, at one cuticle, nearly enough to tear the skin. 

“Go on, then,” she adds, heartened to see Dani’s grave expression tilting toward the sun. “Forgiveness and healing. Could use a little of both, maybe.”

She doesn’t know what she expects, exactly--even saying this feels like the product of insanity, a crack on the head urging her toward things she’d never normally try--but Dani draws a breath. Folds a hand around the back of her head, fingers sifting into curls. Leans forward.

It hurts, a little, Dani pressing her lips to the bandage, though she knows Dani is being gentle. Hurts a little, and sparks something Jamie hadn’t meant to let in, too. She closes her eyes, Dani’s kiss seeming to scorch. 

“Once for forgiveness,” Dani murmurs, lips brushing the skin of her forehead. Another kiss, sweet and soft and sending an electric charge down her spine. “Once for healing.”

She doesn’t lean back, not right away--her hand is warm, her eyes searching Jamie’s, and for a single beat, Jamie wants to tilt her chin. Coax that gentle kiss to find her lips. Change it all. 

The concussion, she assures herself, responsible for the reckless impulse. Responsible, too, for the thread of disappointment coiling in her stomach when Dani removes her hand, places it back in her lap, shakes her head almost ruefully.

“He was better at it.”

“Maybe,” Jamie says. “But I can be clumsy, too. Stay long enough, you might get enough practice to measure up.”

Dani meets her eyes, looking embarrassed, looking delighted. Jamie rubs the back of her neck, casting around for a way out of this hole she’s dug. 

“Listen to me. Take enough thumps to the head, I’m gonna starting spewing puns like Owen.”

“Oh no,” Dani laughs. “Anything but that.”

She has to go, she explains, back to the kids. Jamie’s welcome to join them--she’s got a game of cards planned, and they could use a fourth. Jamie almost agrees. Almost lets herself follow Dani into the house, her fingers straying mindlessly to brush the fresh bandage sealed with a kiss. 

“Shouldn’t,” she says--to Dani, to herself, to the burgeoning heat in her cheeks as she recalls how gently Dani had pressed her lips to the wound. “Work to be done, y’know.”

Dani nods. “See you at dinner?”

She should say no to that, too. Should go home to her little flat, to the quiet which always makes perfect sense, which never turns up with a first aid kit and assertive hands. 

“Yeah. Dinner.” She’s smiling. Dani, leaning against the doorframe, is, too. 

“No more knocks on the noggin,” she adds with mock-gravity. Jamie snorts, gives a careless little salute. 

“No fuckin’ promises.”

It’s difficult to say what’s harder to ignore, when Dani’s gone and the work rises up to meet her once more. Hard to say which part--the thumping of the headache, or the memory of Dani Clayton’s lips pressed to her forehead--has a greater hold on the rest of her day. No one asks, and she’s honestly relieved. 

If asked, Jamie would insist the headache has won out. If asked, she’d have no other choice.

If asked, Jamie would absolutely lie. 

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #physical affection tag

[dato-potato]

Broken

Yo, here’s a thing a wrote a while back and decided today was the day to post it. Anyway, I totally ignored canon for this but when do I not? Enjoy!

——————————

Tim groaned as he lay in bed. This was the worst. Being on bed rest with a broken leg? Bad. But your (adoptive) father calling your (adoptive) brother, who, by the way, only just got over not trying to murder you to come by and look after you while he goes off on a trip? Worse. That was worse. 

Tim chewed on the inside of his cheek as he waited for Jason to arrive. They had started to get better, Jason stopped trying to kill him on sight so that was improvement, right? Tim looked down at the cast on his leg and cursed it. If only he hadn’t been stupid, he wouldn’t even be in this situation. It wasn’t even during patrol, he fell on the stairs and broke his leg, how lame was that?

He heard Jason’s bike pull up and tensed up. He wasn’t sure how Bruce had convinced him, or if he had even convinced him yet. If he told him to look after Tim, surely he wouldn’t just listen. 

Tim received his answer in the form of crashes and loud voices before a vehicle left the manor. He was sure it was Jason who left until there was a series of stomps getting closer and closer to his room. 

His door slammed open, Jason glaring holes as his gaze passed over Tim’s room and finally fell upon Tim, lying helpless in bed. Jason grumbled about something but Tim couldn’t hear. He then threw himself into Tim’s desk chair which Tim was sure would break under the force. 

“I’m here to look after you until Bruce gets back,” Jason informed Tim with a scowl. 

Tim nodded, “Right, uh, how exactly did he convince you to do that?” he asked curiously, but cautiously. 

Jason’s glare met Tim’s eyes, “He didn’t.” Tim waited for Jason to elaborate. When Tim didn’t drop Jason’s glare, he sighed, “Alfred called me, saying there was an ‘emergency’ so I came over as soon as I could and Bruce told me he needed me to stay and look after you, and then he left. Just like that.” 

Tim furrowed his brows, “You could’ve said no or just leave.” 

Jason looked as if he hadn’t considered that and then promptly shook his head. “I already told Alfred I would. It’s fine, it’s only until B gets back. Just have to waste time until then.”

“Right,” Tim agreed.

The silence that fell over the two of them was not by any means comfortable. Neither really knew what to say, Tim wracking his brain to think of something he could talk to his brother about but coming up with nothing. He wasn’t sure what they really had to talk about. Should he thank him for not trying to kill him? 

Before Tim could decide, Jason cleared his throat. Trying to lessen the tension, he spoke up, “So,” he started awkwardly, “You like books?”

“What?” Tim chuckled lightly. 

“Books, you know, to kill time,” Jason explained lamely. 

“Are you suggesting you read me books or something to pass the time?” Tim couldn’t suppress the grin on his face. He never really pegged Jason for a book kind of guy. 

“It was just an idea, you got any better ones, replacement?” Jason asked gruffly and Tim shook his head. 

They sat in silence, listening to the clock tick. Tim desperately wanted to say something but the silence had grown too heavy. It was like when you ordered something at a restaurant and they gave you the wrong order but you just eat it anyway. Or maybe that was just Tim. Shaking his head, he decided to just sit back and wait it out. How bad could a whole week of just, this be?

Turns out, really bad. By the second day, both boys were even more awkward than the first, even though Tim didn’t think it was possible. They’d watched movies for the rest of the day, Tim letting Jason pick whatever movies he wanted. They all turned out to be pretty interesting to him. On the third day, they tried to make small talk but that had ended horrendously and they turned back to watching TV for help but there’s only so much TV one can watch before it’s just boring. On the fourth day of rotting their brains, Jason finally snapped. 

Jason stood up abruptly, startling Tim. “I’m calling Dick,” Jason announced as he sped out of the room. 

Tim was grateful for a moment to himself but was slightly worried about Jason calling Dick. Bruce would have called him but he seemed to be busy lately and they didn’t want to bother him. Not even a full minute later, Jason returned to his spot in Tim’s desk chair. 

“He’s on his way,” he told Tim simply. 

Tim contemplated for a moment, surprised. “What’d you tell him?”

Jason shrugged, “He didn’t let me get past telling him you had a broken leg before he was out the door and on his way here.”

Tim nodded and let out a short breath. It wasn’t great with only Tim and Jason, maybe having Dick there would help?

He could only hope.

Dick showed up with his arms full of an assortment of goods from snacks to games, blankets to puzzles. He spent a good hour fussing over Tim to make sure he was comfortable before he brought a second chair into Tim’s room and finally started asking questions. 

“So what happened?” Dick asked Tim before turning from Jason and back to Tim, “He didn’t do something did he?”

Jason looked rightfully offended and fully prepared to defend himself but Tim spoke up. “It wasn't him, I did it to myself a few days before he even got here.”

Jason nodded, throwing a hand out in Tim’s direction. “See?”

Dick nodded thoughtfully, seeming satisfied that Jason hadn’t assaulted their youngest brother. “So what did happen then?”

Jason turned his attention to Tim, “Yeah, how’d you get your arm broke?”

Tim chuckled nervously, “Well, that’s a funny story…”

Neither brother budged as Tim continued to avoid both their gazes, to no avail. It was a difficult thing to accomplish when you’re on bed rest. 

“Ok… well you’ll have to tell us eventually,” Dick told him with a raised eyebrow.

Dick pulled out the games he’d brought, starting with Uno. It definitely got both Tim and Jason to relax which Tim was immensely appreciative of. Turns out it’s kind of fun to play games with your older brothers. 

The next day, they played some of the other games Dick had brought, making much more comfortable conversation than when it was just Tim and Jason. However, there was only so much bed rest Tim could take. 

“I want to get up,” he stated as Dick shuffled a deck of cards. Jason had suggested they play poker using the snacks as money. 

“That’s gonna be hard in your current state, replacement,” Jason said, eyeing Tim’s cast. 

Tim rolled his eyes, “Obviously. That’s why I need your guys’ help. I want to move, at least to like, the sitting room. Please?”

Dick looked between Jason and Tim before sighing. “Come on Jay, let’s just move to the sitting room. Probably have more comfortable seats for us too.”

Jason thought for a moment and then nodded. Tim exhaled with a grateful smile. Dick dug out a pair of crutches for Tim so he could move around easier and then the two older brothers helped him down the stairs. 

They played some more games in the sitting room until Tim spoke up. “Can we maybe do something else? This is getting mega boring.”

Jason swiped the game pieces into their box and folded the board, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Dick sighed, defeatedly. “And I was winning that round too.” 

Jason looked around them, “Any ideas for what to do next?”

Dick looked behind himself at the things he brought, bringing his hand to his chin in thought. He turned back to his brothers with a mischievous grin. “I have an idea.” 

Dick and Jason began to travel around the manor, gathering every blanket, pillow and cushion they could find and brought it to the sitting room where Tim would sort them into which materials would be best for what purpose. They moved the furniture in the sitting room around and after all the materials were collected, they started building. 

Before long, they had a decent sized fort, complete with a laptop, snacks, the games Dick brought, extra blankets for comfort, a table and Alfred brought them tea. The boys all settled in, making sure there were a few extra pillows to elevate Tim’s leg as well. Once they were all comfortable, they decided to watch a movie. After a lot of arguing, they decided on The Princess Bride. 

Alfred called them out for dinner, the boys having to crawl out of their fort. When they finished, they were all pretty much done for the day and returned to the fort. They lay on their backs, Dick playing with a flashlight, making shadow puppets, making up random stories as he did. 

“I fell down the stairs,” Tim said abruptly.

Dick turned to him, worried, “When?”

Tim gave him a look and Jason burst out laughing. “Replacement, you broke your leg falling down the stairs?”

Tim’s face felt heated, “Yeah, I just missed a step…”

Dick was obviously trying to keep his laughter in but Tim sighed, “It’s fine. You can laugh.”

Dick joined Jason laughing hysterically and even Tim couldn’t keep himself from smiling. It was pretty stupid, he knew that. 

After they’d all settled back in and finished laughing at Tim, he turned his head and looked over at Jason. 

“Hey,” he said, getting Jason’s attention, “What about a book?”

Jason raised a brow at him, “What book?”

Tim shrugged his shoulders, “I dunno, you mentioned books the first day. You got any in mind?” 

Jason grinned at his little brother, “Oh, replacement, maybe you’re not so bad after all.” Before Tim could ask what Jason had in mind, he was already up and out of the fort, his footsteps retreating to presumably get a book. 

Dick chuckled beside Tim, “Now you’ve done it.”

Tim looked inquisitively at Dick, “What? What’d I do?”

“The kid’s a literary nerd,” he told Tim with a smirk. 

Tim shifted into a more comfortable position, “Can’t be that bad.” When Dick didn’t say anything Tim got a little concerned, “Is it that bad?”

Dick didn’t answer again and Jason returned, holding a rather thick book that Tim only caught one word from; Shakespeare.

Before long, the boys began to doze off to Jason’s reading of Hamlet. As Tim fell asleep, he briefly wondered why Jason stayed after Dick came. He could’ve easily left, saying that Dick was there and he’d look after Tim. And yet, here he was, sitting in a pillow fort, reading Shakespeare for Tim and Dick. Not to mention the few times Tim was struggling to move and he huffed about how useless Tim was but still helped him.  

Tim glanced over at Dick who had long fallen asleep and leaned over on him. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t help but think about how he never thought he’d get even one older brother, and now he had two. It was nice. Maybe the week wasn’t so bad after all. Tim didn’t think Jason would admit it, but he thought they’d all really enjoyed their time together. 

Bruce returned later that night, hoping to let Jason off early. 

“How bad was it?” Bruce asked when Alfred greeted him at the door.

“Oh, simply atrocious, Sir,” Alfred informed him gravely. “In the sitting room,” he directed.

Bruce rushed inside and to the room, finding a mass of blankets and pillows, a light shining from inside. He had to crawl through the small opening. Inside, he found his three boys, sleeping side by side. Jason had the big Shakespeare book from the library still open, laying on his chest, Tim was leaning on Dick who was sprawled out across Jason. All three were fast asleep. Bruce looked behind him at Alfred who smiled through the entrance to the fort.

“I dare say they had a good time,” he said as he stood up.

Bruce nodded and looked back at his boys. Moving carefully, so as not to wake them up, he draped blankets across each of them. 

#batfamily #batfam #my fics #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #it's also my birthday so I thought why not post this #it's been in my drafts for a while

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Reviews: The Town Where Everyone Was Nice! or Scrooge Is the Lindburgh Baby

Saludos Amigos! The Ride of the Three Cablleros has at long last come to the last stop before it’s final phase. It’s been a hell of a ride so far: Our boys have tried to woo some ladies, performed some black magic, had some sort of drug trip, dealt with Donald’s ego, helped goofy ungoofy himself...

“SEASONS CHANGE, TIMES CHANGE BUT UNGOOFY IS FOREVER AND ALWAYS HE IS ALWAYS THERE” ... I created this magificent stalion.. kinda I think he came out of a styigan hole in the universe from the darkest dark in the dark of the dark... I can’t be sure. Our heroes fought an arrogant prince, found a lost city and helped donald get his smile back. All culminating in our heroes going to Spain for some reason, soundtracking Goofy’s win against Horace in Flamico Dancing, somehow that wasn’t a Covid induced fever dream I had but the actual premise of the episode, and then played some soccer with Daisy’s cousin and Pancho Pete. All in all we’ve had some good times getting here and I feel acomplished having made it this far. While I’ve still got quite a ways to go, getting this far means I really made something.. and not just the 80 something dollars it took to comission all of this. And I genuinely just want to thank all of you for reading these as these have easily been some of my most popular reviews and @weirdkev27​ for comissioning all of this. It’s been easily one of my faviorite projects so far and I look forward to the final leg of it soon. For now though we have one last adventure before the biggest one starts.  But before we can dive into it you probably have a few questions, and since I don’t really need to give Ducktales 2017 a lavish introduction as unlike most stuff so far this show is well and familiar: it’s what got me started reviewing animation on this blog, it’s what got me into the duck community as a full member, and it’s what caught Kev’s attention leading to this entire series. So I have time to answer the questions your probably asking and if your not.. well here’s the answers anyway Wait aren’t you going to cover Louie’s Eleven?: Nope. While I love that episode, I already did a full review of it earlier this year.  I saw no reason to completely and utterly redo the entire thing when my opinions toward the episode haven’t really changed. That being said since I didn’t touch on the boys characterizations in that one too much and since I do want this retrospective to be comprehensive, I will talk about Panchito And Jose’s characterization there briefly during this review at the right time as a compromise. 

Wait why isn’t THIS the last stop since it came out AFTER Legend of the Three Cablleros: Simple.. it felt unsatsfying to both me and kev to end on this one. While their apperance here IS a good one and a big deal... it’s also ANOTHER guest apperance. It’s something I didn’t quite realize for now but outside of the movie.. every apperance after is them guest starring in another series. Their aperances in Don Rosa’s Duck Comics, while awesome and treating them with proper respect, were still them showing up to shake up Donald’s stories and formulas. They were LITERAL guest stars in House of Mouse, and Roadster Racers was entirely just “let’s shove them in there because we can”. Legend.. is their story. Their moment in the sun after too damn long with all three as main characters and while being a lead is normal for donald, Jose and Panchito really HAVEN’T had that shot outside of their home countries. To be the hero of their own fully realized epic adventure. So it just fits best to have the road lead there instead of have all that happen.. then go back to yet another guest appearance. The other major factor.. is that while Legend came out around the same time as ducktales, to the point many compared and contrast both shows treatment of Donald, this episode is what most non-latin american audiences saw first as it took Disney WAY too damn long to air the series over here.. i.e. until Disney Plus launched, finding it somewhere online was the only option despite the series being produced in america with some really big american names voice acting wise. Point is this came first to some people, so i’m using that as a flimsy excuse to put it ahead so we get a better finale. 

Now all that’s settled, let’s dive into “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice!” and see what one of the best duck propeties period makes of our boys. 

We open in a remote town in Brazil. It’s the Festival of the Flower.. which is a bit off to me. While it DOES kind of make plot sense.. the problem is the lure was written to Panchito and Jose.. Jose whose a brazil native and could’ve possibly been supscious that a tourist invintation wasn’t in Brazilian Portugese, the countries national language and something I specifically researched just to see what it’d be called. For the record it’d be O Festival da Flor acording to google translate, which still sounds neat, Webby could’ve still said it means festival of the flower. It just feels like a missed opportunity from a creative team that’s taken such pains to make the series feel as authentic as possible and clearly put a lot of hard work and research into making each location feel like it’s real world counterpart.  But it’s a minor thing and we soon get our two plots for the episode: Our B Plot.. is that Dewey can’t stay the fuck off his phone and is taking pictures rather than actually getting experiences with Louie enabling him, while Webby gets increasingly frustrated at Dewey not actually botherting to experince this unique and obscure culture. We’ll get back to this in a bit. 

Our main plot naturally concerns the reason our heroes are here: Donald is reuniting with The Cabs, who in this continuity are his old College friends who Scrooge hates due to having to listen to them practice constnatly and tells the kids they’d hate it worse than his playing the bagpipes. 

Bagpipes are objectively the worst insterument on earth. They are loud, unharmonic and generally just obnoxious. I do respect how important they are to Scotland, home of David Tennant, Grant Morrision and .. Alan Cumming and James Macavoy? Wait what? that’s awesome! Point is Scotland is great but I do not like the bagpipes except when Bugs Bunnny is murdering them. Honestly Donald’s college band was probably more like this. Nothing bad at all just mildly pathetic and mildly pathetic is what got Donald a girlfriend, so it’s not a  bad look

That brings me to another point: Scrooge is pretty obnoxious in this episode. It seems like his sole reason for coming was to bitch about Donald’s old college band. He could’ve just sent them a stern letter like the pros at being a cranky old geezer do. 

I do GET why he’s here as there are some REALLY damn funny bits with him in the a-plot, it just feels like they could’ve justified it better. But on to better things as Jose and Panchito enter the scene after Scrooge claims they “weren’t so cool”.. with Panchito diving from a plane and drifting down on his umbrella

And Panchito shows up dramatically playing the guitar. A truly awesome and worthy intro to our boys. So let’s talk about them in this series. Honestly the two really aren’t that diffrent from usual, though Jose’s lady chasing is given to Panchito, his footloose world traveling lifestyle remains in tact as does his genuine charm while Panchito remains the peppy one, just with his outbursts gone as his guns are replaced with cell phones.. 

Yeah while I do get replacing the pistols because let’s face it the mexican of the group being a gun nut was pretty damn unfortunate, though Don Rosa toned it down and justifed it well, and frankly guns are a hard no for family shows these days unless their laser guns so replacing them I get. But instead of I dunno giving him knives or turning his holsters into pouches carrying his stuff.. he just has two Cell Phones. It’s weird. It dosen’t really make sense other than for him putting on a big shot act and even big stars probably don’t have two phones on them at all times. It’s just a VERY weird update that makes not a whole lot of logical sense and I belivie is thankfully gone by the next ep. The only real issue I have is the two just sorta blend together personality wise instead of being distinct like usual, but that’s also happened in other apperances, so it’s not exactly a new or unique problem, and the two’s voice actors do a great job making both feel like they should. 

Speaking of which let’s just go ahead and discuss that elephant in the room: The Cabs were recast for the first time in ages, which didn’t sit well with friends of legend as Eric Bauza, who’d replaced rob Paulsen, was himself replaced by Arturo Del Puerto and Bernado Del Paulo replaced Jamie Camil and Carlos Aquazi as Panchito. And I have mixed opinons on this one: Replacing Eric was a no brainer: while he’s a terrific voice actor.. he’s not brazilian and the crew of Ducktales 2017 perfer to cast actors who match their characters backgrounds, which again adds to the authenicty of it’s globetrotting and scope. They don’t ALWAYS, Cree Summer isn’t, as far as I know, Egyptian and Catherine Tate, while wonderful, isn’t italian. But for the most part it adds a nice flavor to things and frankly I personally prefer it when Jose is voiced by an actual brazilian man. So that change i’m fine with. Not using Camil though... I do not get. Jamie Camil is a throughly talented voice actor, having done TONS of great work lately , vocing Globgor for star vs and not getting nearly enough screen time as the loveable demon dad, and stealing the show as Don Carnage earlier in the series. While that episode is one of the series weakest, he’s still easily the best part of it and I hope Carnage shows up one last time before the finale. 

So it really makes.. no sense to me to replace him. Not only is camil a bigger named actor, but he was already on the show and even the defense of “well they don’t want actors playing multiple rolls” ended up utterly destroyed by the end of the season, as Christ Dimatopolus not only reprised Storkules, but went on to play Drake and Melon, and picked up a FOURTH role in season 3 as Hades. My point is the show has no real issue with doubling up on voice rolls, so I scratch my head as to why Camil wasn’t given this part too despite being the obvious choice. Del Paulo isn’t a bad actor and is great in the role.. I just scratch my head why he was needed when a perfect actor for the part was right there and already had experince with the character. 

I do think Puerto and Paulo are terrific and do the characters justice, issues with Paulo being there at all aside, and they do a great job and more than earned the roles and I don’t think the mass critcisim of this version of the characters is entirely warranted.. for this episode. This episode while they can meld into each other... that happens in most of their apperances anyway, so it’s not unusual or unique to this series. I will say however that the way their written in their next apperance is utter garbage: they aren’t really given any chances to be distinct, are basically written as one person even worse .. and that one person is a greedy asshole who takes advantage of their friend and never apologizes. I do get why people did not like them in that episode. I do think it has no baring on this one and people should stop bashing these versions as a whole for one terrible episode, especially when Louie has been written pretty badly for the bulk of season 3, yet is still not a bad character. It’s unfair to paint the series as painting them soley as selfish jackasses when it didn’t at first and hopefully wont’ again when they presumibly show up for the finale’s big avengers endgame sequence I hope is coming. For now they aren’t bad and the colors are crisp and the animation nice and bouncy on our boys. 

Since we have two plots here, I’m just going to go ahead and split em since honestly, the b plot dosen’t really impact the a-plot until really the last minute and is basically happening right along side it and in concert with it. Sooooo... 

The Trite B-Plot: As you can probably gather I didn’t really like this one. It’s basically 5-7 minutes of me wanting to punch a child in the face. Or rather Webby wanting to have fun experinces and actually take in the culture while in town, while Dewey just wants to take pictures of everything, make it seem like he did stuff, and generally is obnoxious to webby while Louie supports him wholeheartdly. That last part is really one of the few good parts of the plot as it’s nice for one of the brothers plots to NOT be about them being in conflict or squabbling but just hanging out and having some fun, doubly so since i’ve had to spend a season watching Louie , outside of a few good exceptions be an absolute dick to Huey and also Dewey once. It’s nice to just see him and Dewey bond over a shared intrest: posting shit online and getting good photos. 

And it’s not without GOOD gags: Dewey’s obnoxious captions at one point while Webby continually looses her shit, Louie continually saying “that’s so wise” at Dewey’s bullshit philosphies, Webby’s continued annoyance is delivered great by Kate as always, and the best bit is Webby, utterly pissed at Dewey for refusing to eat Local Cuisine, wolfing down the entire fucking plate, all the dumplings in her mouth at once while Dewey, naturally, takes a picture. Otherwise this is just.. grating. It’s utterly grating to watch Webby GENUINELY try hard to absorb the local culture and really enjoy a once in a life time experince.. while Dewey jackasses about and basically acts like she’s wrong for it and treats his best friend like garbage. Just because i’ts nice it’s not Louie this time doesen’t make one of the kids being a dick without any nuance or character stuff suddenly great. It’s just tiresome. 

And SOMEHOW , despite already not liking it the first time watching the episode.. it’s even WORSE now afterlast years. No not because I watched it while having to put up with Coronoavirus induced Chills, but because another show did this plot 100 times better: Close Enough. One of the best new shows of the year, Close Enough had a plot where exes Bridget and Alex, aka yet aother great set of Kimiko Glenn and Jason Mantzokus characters, went on vacation together, but their attempts to have some ex sex fell flat due to longstanding issues we found about through this plot: Bridget has a bad habit of doing what Dewey did, focusing way more on her social than actually enjoying her vacatoin while Alex has a bad habit of befreinding random weirdos who agree with his worldview. Keep in mind this is the same worldview that spent an afternoon connecting garfield to jesus while pissing in a jug for some reason. Point instead of a character just being a smug dick, it ties into actual character flaws that helped us not only learn more about them but lead to a really heartwarming scene where the two admit they jsut can’t sleep together casually with allt heir baggage, and that they still have a lot to sort out. Before given the show their on having their friends show up from the a plot and all of them getting kidnapped by a robot because Josh skipped a bunch of ads and a 5 year old has to solve some issues and prove she’s not dumb to blow up said robot. What i’m saying is it’s even more insufferable watching this after seeing it done a thousand times better, and fucking watch Close Enough. Thankfully unlike Inifnity Train it’s not reliant on you to get a second season as it’s been renewed proving that even in a cluster fuck like 2020 miracles can happen, but it’d still be nice for it to get more fans during the presumably long wait for Season 2. Let’s move past this, i’ll get to the plot relevant bit for the climax when we get to the climax, and onto the reason your all here. 

The Main Event: A Life Not Wasted

Okay onto the actual plot. Rewinding quite a bit, the boys meet our boys, and we get some good bits. The boys cool new handshake leaves Huey wanting one only for Louie to simply lick his hand. See this is Louie dickery I can get behind because what did Huey expect? I do take comfort in the fact he has actual friends now who will likely do a handshake, fenton very much included. I’m sure Gyro didn’t want one either so he’s had plenty of time to workshop. We also find out one of the boys was dropped as an egg and well.. given Dewey opens and closes his eyes one at a time for this one moment, the ohter triplets just sorta.. silently agre it’s Dewey. IT does explain why he thought Champ Popular would get over..that and Santa Claus is Going to Highschool being his favorite movie. 

So both Jose and Panchito claim to be sucessful: Jose being a sucessful jetsetter and trendsetter, and Panchito being a world famous pop star, never stop stopping. So Donald being donald panics and runs into a alley where Scrooge and Huey join him.  Donald is fully convinced he’s wasted his life and has nothing to show for it. Huey rightfully points out he raised three wonderful children and isn’t that enough? Naturally given Donald clearly has some issues related to this subject and Scrooge has develoved into old man yells at cloud, he agrees it’s not important as money. So Huey decides to help his uncle because he’s the good son.. and because the two are easily the most alike out of Donald and his Kids. It’s something I haven’t really been able to bring up before so I was delighted to realize i could now: Besides the obvious people bring up constnatly, I.e. Huey having inhereted the most of the family rage out of his brothers, there’s the fact both are kind of obessive, both tend ot spiral into panic when a situation goes wrong, both are awkward with women, both are frequently ignored or taken for granted by those around them, and both are awkward adorable dorks who I will give my life to protect. It’s why I think Huey has the best relationship with his uncle of the bunch: He’s the only one who at least TRIES to empahtize with him and support him. While the other two do love him, and Webby of course likely has an insanne and horrifying shrine of him, and scrooge and probably della now in her closet.. and of course lena but that’s less out of hero worship and more out of her insane, over the top, very webby version of love. Point is, he’s the one who genuinely sees his uncle as a person who needs help and love. This was best demonstrated in the scene at the bank back in “Who Is Gizmoduck” as Huey tries to get his uncle a loan using the guidebook and is there soley to help the guy and taking time out of his day to visit the bank. Let’s face it though this is huey: he probably loves visiting the bank. They just got new pens! So Huey decides to put his improv badge to good use... so far the only use he’s gotten is Louie laughing at the fact he actually earned an improv badge and urges donald to simply ACT like he’s sucessful. Scrooge balks at this, because as Wonder Woman 1984 taught us nothing good comes from lies.. or from  banging your ghost boyfriend while he’s possessing someone’s body without said body’s consent and plan to fully live out the rest of your lives togehter without ever considering how fucked up this is. I will..deal with that movie ... soon. But he soon changes his turn and agrees to go along with it to avoid Jose getting upset and them having to pay for everything. 

So Huey suggest Donald keep the lie small, but belivable. Given the law of sitcoms when it comes to anyone saying that and the fact this is Donald, he instead panics and lies that he’s taken over McDuck industries and scrooge has gone full abe simpson in the other direction. 

Which is why i’m not enitrely annoyed by Scrooge’s presence: while they don’t even handwave him being here, Scrooge putting on an old man act, and sometimes getting back at donald for it is solid gold the whole damn time and some of David Tennat’s best comedic acting on the show, so it makes up for him being a grumpus.  And while i’m not usually not a fan of liar revealed plots, this one works for me.. mostly because it’s rooted in character. Here Donald is lying.. but because of deep seated neurosis he’s yet to fully tackle. While he loves his boys and is proud of htem every day... it’s very clear Donald hates his life and how it turned out. We got bits of this back in House of the Lucky Gander, with Donald’s first thought upon thinking he’s about to die is “I wasted my life” and feeling entirely like a looser. This episode brillinatly builds on that: it shows a Donald who simply feels.. he acomplished nothing. It’s easy to see why as his parents were happy and sucessful at whatever they did from the looks of it and how well taken care of the kids were, his uncle is the richest duck in the world and it’s greatest hero and explorer, his sister is the only one who could rival that record, and his cousin constnatly gets riches and fame handed to him. Donald.. by comparison.. is just a normal guy whose house is in his rich uncle’s pool, who has no job, no partner, and only really the love of his family. He spent his life on adventures he didn’t want to have living int he shadow of someone he grew to resent before the Spear of Selene incident blew things up for a decade. And then when he was free instead of becoming a big sucess... he blew the rest of it being overprotective of his boys and bouncing from dead end job to dead end job. It’s easy to see why he sees himself as a failure despite having lived a good life: compared to everyone else, even his sister who mooned herself, in his life.. he feelsd far behind. And as someone whose felt they were far behind countless times and only now is realizing they haven’t and it’s a marathoon ot a sprint I naturally relate. So his wanting to play big shot for just ONE day, to be the big hero like scrooge, teo be a sucess for five minutes with his best friends.. it’s understandable and relatable. 

So Donald continues the ruse, leading to a great bit where the cabs all try to avoid picking up the check “WE can’t all keep whistling nonchalantly” before Scrooge is forced to give Donald the money to in the best joke of the episode.. and I mean FORCED. He and donald get into a fight with their hands under the table and Huey eventually gets fed up with that and has to BITE his uncle’s hand just to get him to do what he shoudl’ve done ruse or no given he’s the richest person there. The reason I take special offense to this.. is that my fairly wealthy grandpa and grandma, my mom’s dad and his wife for the record, would buy us dinner EVERY TIME they were near town, a nice steak dinner with whatever we wanted to most of the time. They knew we couldn’t afford such luxury half the time and wanted to treat us and spend time with us. Since my grandpa’s passing, my Grandma and her New Husband have continued the tradition since then, if obviously not this year for damn obvious reasons, thought hey sent us a really nice dinner to cook for christmas in the same spirit. What i’m saying is when you know your relatives arne’t as stacked as you , you pay for the fucking meal especially since i’ts a special occasion, and even for someone as stingy as scrooge, it comes off as a dick move. 

We then get the best scene with the episode, just inching out the climax as the three simply talk, remince on old times, have a good rib like old friends would. It feels natural and wonderful to watch and gets even better when the three hear the radio and end up having an impromptu dance and musical number. Also Jose’s umbrella is also a flute somehow. 

Point is the boys have a good time and Donald gets carried away, with the boys planning a world tour. Huey, while happy to endulge his uncle in a badly needded ego boost, isn’t happy to endulge this and scrooge is unwilling ot pay, more resonably this time. Huey eventually talks him out of being a moron and tells him he has to tell the honest truth and while that dosen’t work this does. 

So as Donald goes to face the music, we have come to our climax. Phrasing. 

The Finale: Ay Carumba

So we come to our finale. Backing up a scene or too to the B-Plot, webby is interviewing a local about the festival when she gets stuck in a loop. So far in the episode we’ve had hints something is up with the people as they go all yellow eyed.. and webby finds out why as she notices the “person” she was interviewing is, in a hilarious and disturbing review.. a horrignly realistic hand puppet.. and upon stealing Louie’s phone, she points out there’s no shots of anyone’s feet.. and the reason why is that the giant flower the feast is about is a mean green mother from outer space and he’s bad. And Webby finding that out’s got him fighting mad.  Webby and the boys naturally run to warn the remaning boy and scrooge and they all run out only to get blocked out of town and captured. Dewey looses his phone inside the plant monster.

In a great joke, Scrooge ended up actually throwing his back out with the old man act, so our heroes are all captured and it’s up to our stars to save the day.  So while his family is in peril, Donald finally comes clean with Jose and Panchito naturally being upset.. for a second before Jose admits he lied to and an irate panchito.. is forced to admit he also lied. Jose is a flight attendant, hopefully he’ll get his own mini series where he accidently murders a dude on disney plus, which is a nice update of his globe trotting ways, as it’s a resonable way for someone with no money to get around the world these days and Panchito is a birthday party muscian. They all however chuckle over this realizing they haven’t come as far as they thought.. and they still have each other. It’s a nice way of modernizing Rosa’s jobs for them and their hard luck lives he set up and I love this. IJt’s just a sweet emotoinal scene that makes donald, and his friends, realize they aren’t faliures and life isn’t just about reaching some arbitrarity goal.. just like Soul taught me aka the actually great movie I watched on Christmas Day.  But since Donald’s family is in peril Jose suggests theys till play the gig.. just like they did ion acapulco thus we get the second best scene of the episode and another worthy rendition of The Three Caballeros as our heroes beat the shit out of the plant, free the kids and the plant straighens out scrooges back. 

It’s beautiful, psycadelic, and utterly awesome. Seroiusly the bright boldend colors are awesome and so’s this sequence. Easily one of the show’s best.. and it’s a show that contiains the greatest scene in television history

So that masterclass concludes with Donald signing.. badly.. and blowing the plant hte fuck up. Our heroes win and head off in the sunchaser. No idea what Launchpad is up to, probably has another ex in the area. Point is our heroes win, Dewey deletes his photos because “If there was no pics it didn’t happen” (So wise) and Donald decides to get the band back together, prompting scrooge to do an animal house on Panchito’s guitar... you.. you know you have to pay for that right? you aren’t a loveable frat man and he wasn’t ‘singing and I gave my love a cherry. Your obligated to get him a new guitar. You know that right?

So with that the episode wraps. This is a pretty good episode. While the subplot is bad and it should feel bad the main plot is emotional, well done and really adds more depth to Donald’s character while giving us a hell of a show with the cabs. The College Band background gives the boys a unique flavor this time around, not musically but in how they know each other and helps set it apart from the countless other reunions. It’s a truly bright, colorful and fun episode with some great gags and great performances. As I said Puerto and Paulo really knock it out of the park as the boys and while I would’ve preferred Jamie Camil, Paulo was still utterly excellent, though Puerto was the clear standout of the two. While their second apparence would be disapointing characterization wise, overall this was a fun introduction to two of disney’s best into it’s best universe and one of Season 2′s Standouts. 

Next Time on the Ride of the Three Cablleros: we begin our massive finale look at The Legend of the Three Cablleros. Donald gets dumped by a nightmare of a person and finds an inhertance, new friends, and some sort of hot adventure god in his new cabana. Good times. Until then goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. 

#ducktales #donald duck #panchito romero miguel junipero francisco quintero gonzalez #panchito pistoles #Jose Carioca #webby vanderquack #scrooge mcduck #dewey duck #huey duck #louie duck #Abe Simpson #the town where everyone was nice #The Three Caballeros

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Calm & Conversations

A JSE Fanfic

Okay so my schedule for uploading fics may be a bit wonky for the next while. I’m not sure how to fit writing in with my classes this semester, so I’m just improvising as I go. But I’ve got this! It’s really just a bunch of scenes that need to happen before the next story, but it was nice to write again. We check in on Laurens and Schneep (yknow I’m just now realizing how big a deal the non-septic characters are to this story), Marvin tells Chase something important, there’s a flashback with JJ, and Anti is being a plotting dick as usual. Have fun guys dsjdfkdfjk

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

Laurens knocked on the office door, hearing a soft “come in” in response. She took a deep breath, and pushed the door open, stepping inside. It had been a while since she’d been inside. And now that Dr. Newson had been suspended as director of the hospital, she had to get a read on her replacement. But this wasn’t something she could just avoid, so she stepped inside.

“Ah, Rya, good to see you!” The woman sitting at the desk immediately stood up. “I heard you returned to Silver Hills, but I guess you’ve been too busy for me to see you.”

“Oh, hi Dr. Fells.” Laurens nodded, friendly. “Y-yeah, it’s been a while.”

“It has! And please, call me Becca.” Fells smiled cheerfully. “How have you been? Well, I suppose that’s a superfluous question. Your cast says as much.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s uh...been an ordeal.” Laurens adjusted her sling. “Anyway, I uh...I came in to ask for a day off. Actually, I need it off.”

“Oh, of course.” Fells rummaged around in the desk, pulling out a form and a pen. “You know, you could have filled out a request. We have it online now.”

“I know, but this is important, so I, um, didn’t want to risk it,” Laurens explained. “I have to, uh, testify. In court. On the thirty-first.”

“Oh dear, well then you’ll definitely need the whole day off,” Fells said, filling out the form. “But you should tell your patient, too.”

“Yeah, I was planning on it.” Laurens wasn’t sure how into detail she would go. After all, the court case was all about Newson and her abuse of power, which could be a sensitive topic for Schneep. She’d try to be vague. As that thought crossed her mind, it slowly dawned on her that she was more involved in this case than she’d ever been before. Perhaps that was a bad thing. But she couldn’t leave it now.

“Great.” Fells finished writing, and looked up to smile at Laurens. “If you need anything else, please let me know. I understand that Newson got too involved in your work, and I’d hate to be like that, but I’m here to help!”

“Thanks, Becca.” Laurens coughed awkwardly. “I’ll, uh...see you later. Bye.”

“Goodbye, Rya!”

With that done, Laurens headed down to Schneep’s room, as usual. And as usual, she met Oliver outside, made some small talk, and then went in.

Schneep was laying on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. When Laurens and Oliver walked in, he immediately grabbed the small contact mirror she’d given him yesterday, and checked their reflections in it. Seemingly satisfied, he sat up straight.

“Hi Schneep,” Laurens said, taking a seat. “How are you?”

“Well, I am fine, I suppose.” Schneep shrugged. “Nothing much has changed. Which is a good thing, I think.”

“Yes, I think it is.” She hesitated, then continued on. “So I have good news and bad news.”

Schneep immediately tensed. “Bad news?”

“Do you want that one first?”

“Well, it depends on what it is.”

“It’s not too bad, I think,” Laurens said. “I just won’t be able to have our session on the thirty-first.”

“Oh. Alright.” Schneep exhaled, clearly relieved. “And how far away is that?”

“Six days. You’re okay with this? Or would you rather have someone else substitute for me?”

“Ah, your substitutes never work,” Schneep dismissed. “The last one was an asshole.”

“Newson? Well...yeah,” Laurens admitted.

“Besides, we already talk with each other almost every day. It is fine.” Schneep shrugged. “What is the good news?”

“Ah, right.” Laurens smiled. “Well, we might be able to move you back to your old room! The one with less restrictions. And it’s possible that I may be able to get you any clothing that was confiscated.” She still didn’t understand why Newson did that. Well. actually, she did.

Schneep’s face lit up. “Oh, that would be wonderful! What changed?”

“Well, the new medication seems to be working,” Laurens said. “And you said last time that the techniques I suggested were helping, too. So I think I can convince our new director that you’re not a risk case. Or at least, not as much as your file has you marked as.”

Schneep winced. “I do remember doing some...questionable things when first arriving here.”

“It’s understandable, you were lashing out,” Laurens said reassuringly.

“Still...” Schneep wrapped his arms around himself. “I remember that one orderly who I hurt, and I feel...well, bad, of course, and because of that, I do worry.”

“Theresa has made a full recovery, don’t worry,” Laurens said. “And if you’d like, today we can work on some ways to manage anger and stress.”

“That sounds good, thank you.” Schneep nodded.

“Alright, we’ll start with that.”

——————

“This is weird.” Marvin shifts awkwardly on his seat, leaning onto the side of the hospital bed. “He’s just staring into nothing.”

“Hey, I thought you didn’t like eye contact anyway,” Chase pointed out, a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Well, yeah, but it’s weird when it’s Jack,” Marvin explained.

Marvin hadn’t had a chance to see Jack in a while. Or, actually, he’d just been forgetting to. So Chase had offered to bring him along on a visit, to make sure he did. Marvin had agreed, and now here they were, Chase in one chair at the side of the bed, Marvin in another on the opposite side.

“Is it wrong to say it’s kind of creepy?” Marvin asked reluctantly.

“What? Open eyes?”

“It’s not necessarily the open eyes, so much as it’s that he’s not moving at all other than that,” Marvin said. “I...wasn’t supposed to say that, was I? That was one of those things?”

“No, it’s fine, it makes sense,” Chase reassured him. “I get it.” He grabs one of Jack’s hands. “Y’know, he’s been moving a little bit recently. Sometimes he, like, squeezes your hand. He probably doesn’t mean to, but it’s nice. And it’s progress.”

“Involuntary twitching is progress?” Marvin asked.

“Yeah, cause he couldn’t move at all before.” Chase’s fingers ran across the back of Jack’s hand. He’d always been pale, but after being in the hospital for over a year, he was practically paper white. “I mean, it’s still pretty bad. He’s a seven on that scale I told you about.”

“Fast improvement, though, so that’s good.” Marvin adjusted his position, scooting the chair closer before leaning onto the bed again. “Do you think he can hear us?”

“I dunno,” Chase said, shrugging. “They always say people in comas might hear people, but that could be just a myth. Maybe we should ask someone who’s actually been in a coma and woke up.”

“Someone probably did a Reddit question like that.”

“Oh, for sure.”

They fell silent for a moment. Marvin traced the line on the heart monitor with his eyes. “So...how have the kids been?”

“Pretty good, far as I can tell. They started reception in August, y’know.” Chase laughed a bit. “Y’know, I still think kindergarten is a better term.”

“Ah yes, the child garden.” Marvin chuckled a little as well. “Y’know you didn’t have to enroll them if you didn’t want to. I never went to reception, and I turned out fine.”

“Do they even have reception or kindergarten in Ireland?”

“...not exactly, but that’s besides the point. It’s more about the age, I’m trying to say I didn’t go to school until I was six. Grandmam always said I was too nervous to go.”

“Can’t imagine you being nervous,” Chase muttered. “Well, Sophie and Nick are ready. They can be wild kids, but at their age, who wouldn’t be? They’re still very good listeners. Nick has a good memory, and Sophie can, like, figure out puzzles pretty quickly. They’re fine.” He looked up at Marvin. “What about you? Anything interesting going on in your life?”

“Well, there’s still the case I told you about,” Marvin said.

“Oh yeah, that. Did you tell JJ about the hearing on Halloween?”

“Yeah.” Marvin’s expression fell. “It’s shitty timing, but I can still stop by his flat for birthday stuff after it’s all done. Or he can watch me on TV. Because apparently they’re gonna televise this, you hear that?”

“Whoa, really?” Chase asked, surprised.

“Yeah, apparently Schneep’s case is a big deal.” Marvin ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, we wouldn’t have known that. JJ didn’t know Schneep before, you hate watching the news, and I wasn’t even in the country.”

“We missed everything,” Chase agreed. Part of him still felt bad about that. Maybe it would’ve been reassuring to know Schneep didn’t exactly disappear. Or maybe it would’ve been worse, since by all accounts, it looked like Schneep was actually a serial killer. But Chase pushes aside these thoughts for now. He actually wanted to ask Marvin something, now that the subject came up. “So, uh, are you ready to tell us why you suddenly went to Ireland? If it’s okay?”

Marvin didn’t say anything for a while. He just continued running his fingers through his hair. After much too long, he took a deep breath. “Yeah, fine. I mean, JJ isn’t here, but I can tell him later. Or, actually...maybe it would be better to show you.”

“Show me?” Chase repeated. “What do you mean?”

Marcin sat up straight and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up.

“Whoa, hey, dude! What if someone walks in?!” Chase leaned back.

“Just look.”

Though confused, Chase did so. But that only made him even more confused. “Are those...scars?”

There were three long, raised scars on Marvin’s torso, one on his chest and two on his stomach. Marvin quickly lowered his shirt again. “Yeah.” He folded his arms. “That’s why I left.”

“What?” Chase’s mind spun, working hard to come up with an explanation. “You got attacked or something? Why?”

Marvin took a deep breath, already looking tired. “Okay, so this is gonna be a long story. Y’know the boutique I worked for?”

“Yeah.”

“So I found out that place wasn’t exactly what it seemed.” Marvin hesitated, then blurted it out. “It was actually a front for an underground crime ring.”

Chase’s first impulse was to laugh. He tried to bite it back, but a quiet snrk escaped.

“What? It’s the truth,” Marvin said defensively.

“No, I’m not saying it’s not,” Chase hurried to say. “Not saying you’re lying. It’s just...you said it so straight, and it sounds so absurd.”

“Y’know what sounds absurd? The fact that Schneep and Jackie got kidnapped by a serial killer who turned out to be the brother of a guy we met just a few months later.”

“Fair point.” Chase coughed into his elbow to get rid of any leftover laughter. “Anyway, how do you know that? Or is this just a theory?”

“A gaaaame theory,” Marvin said.

“Dude, c’mon.”

“Sorry, habit.” Marvin paused, gathering his thoughts. “Well, I worked there for a while before I figured it out. I’m guessing that some of the staff was in on it, but not all of them. But things started seeming weird after a while, compared to other jobs I’ve had. Odd hours. Shifty management. And some customers would ask for something very specific that we didn’t actually stock, and when I brought it up to my manager, they always said they’d handle it personally. So I got suspicious, and I started investigating.”

“Marv, you could’ve asked Jackie for help,” Chase said, shaking his head. “He’s literally a private investigator.”

“Okay, yeah, but this was after he disappeared,” Marvin explained.”So I had to do it on my own. Besides, I might not have asked anyway, he’s a bit, uh...” He flapped his hand in the air, looking for the words. “Surprisingly a goody-two-shoes about it. But the point is, I did it myself. And when I snooped into a new shipment we just received, I found a hidden compartment with some guns inside.”

“Oh, jeez.” Chase’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, exactly.” Marvin nodded. “I left quickly, but as luck would have it, I ran into one of the management coming out of the back room. I guess they must’ve figured out what I saw, because a lot of people were acting really weird around me after that.” Marvin exhaled deeply. “And so, when I was walking home one night, this guy ambushed me and stabbed me.”

“Dude, holy shit!” Chase gasped.

“Imagine how I felt!” Marvin shouted. “I got fucking stabbed! I thought I was gonna die in the middle of the fucking street!” He pressed his hand to his chest, right over the scar, as he took control of his breathing. I was so fucking scared, he signed shakily.

“God, Marvin, I’m so sorry,” Chase said softly.

Marvin smiled a bit. Well, thanks. Obviously, I didn’t die, but I’m pretty sure that’s just because of luck. I went into shock for a bit, and the guy stabbing me probably thought I was losing consciousness and left. I was bleeding a lot, I’m not sure how I managed to stand up. But I did, and I walked all the way home.

“Bro, call an ambulance!”

I would’ve, but I thought that if people saw an ambulance in the area they would figure I survived, and try again. So I walked home, used all the bandages from that emergency super-thorough medical kit Schneep gave me, and passed out immediately after that. I woke up the next morning, still all dizzy, and knew I had to leave.

“Oh my god...” Chase could only shake his head. “I’m guessing you didn’t tell us because you didn’t want us involved in this?”

Marvin nodded. “Yeah...I mean, I didn’t even really want to be involved, I just wanted to find out what was happening. Guess I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Chase laughed a bit, but it quickly faded. “So...you’re back now ‘cause you think it’s over?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Marvin shrugged. “I mean, I couldn’t stay with my grandma forever. I’m pretty sure the people who tried to kill me all think I’m dead. But still. I’m a bit nervous about getting another job.”

“Hey, understandable. But I’m sure it’ll be—” Chase gasped.

“What?” Marvin asked, slightly alarmed.

“Nothing, he just—just squeezed my hand.” Chase looked down at Jack. Of course, Jack still wasn’t looking at him. He knew the squeezing probably wasn’t intentional, but he couldn’t help from assigning meaning to it. “Maybe he wants to reassure you.”

“Maybe. Well, thanks, Jack.” Marvin patted Jack’s other hand. “Wonder what you’d think of all of this.”

“Well, we can ask him when he wakes up,” Chase said, putting a cheerful note in his voice. “He’d probably be like ‘what the fuck? Why am I friends with you crazy people?’”

Marvin laughed. “Ah, we love you, Jack. Even JJ likes you, even though you’ve never met. We’ve told him so many good things.”

Chase nodded, falling quiet. Things were insane lately, but at least there was the silver lining of Jack getting better. Hopefully, everything else would also improve with time.

——————

Jameson opened the curtains and peered out his living room window. His eyes scanned the street below, but saw nothing. Still not satisfied, he pulled them shut.

There hadn’t been any sign of that stalker he’d seen a few days ago, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. He’d explained the situation to his boss, Mr. Patterson, and he’d let him take the week off for safety. So JJ had spent all his time in his apartment, reading and playing a lot of Minecraft. He knew this couldn’t last forever. But maybe it could last until his birthday.

Speaking of which...JJ checked his text messages really quick. The most recent exchange was with Marvin, where he explained the whole deal with the court case. It was good that this would be finished, but JJ couldn’t lie, he’d been looking forward to a birthday get-together with Marvin and Chase. Nothing too big, of course, but he was expecting both of them to be there at the same time. Unfortunately, that would now be impossible. The court case was going to last all day, so Marvin was only available in the evening. But then Chase couldn’t be there, since he was doing Halloween things with his kids at that time.

JJ sighed, and closed his messages. Well, even if the two of them came over at different times, they could have some fun. JJ headed over to the kitchen to make some tea, trying to come up with activities they could do together.

He’d never had friends over for a birthday before. Well, when he was a kid he would invite his classmates over a couple times. But not many responded, and even as a kid, he felt like the ones who did were only doing so out of pity for “the weird boy who couldn’t talk right.” Not to mention that a couple foster families wouldn’t actually let anyone come over.

Actually, when was the last time he’d spent his birthday with someone? It must have been a while...

——————

“No, absolutely not.”

Are you serious?! Jameson signed angrily. It’s just an amusement park! We’ve gone to plenty before!

Aneirin didn’t even turn to look at him as he spoke, focusing on cleaning the dishes from dinner. Jameson was on his blind side, staring at the glass eye. “Yes, but we’ve always gone together. I wouldn’t mind that, but I can’t go tonight. I’m...busy.”

Jameson wasn’t sure he wanted to know what ‘busy’ meant. Judging from the ‘business’ JJ had been involved in in the past, it would probably end up with a dead body and cash changing hands. The thought made him sick, so he moved on. I’m not eight years old, Aneirin, I’m turning twenty-two. I don’t need your permission.

“Well...you sort of do,” Anti said slowly, only glancing at Jameson long enough to take in the signs. “Or at least, you need me to drive you, which I won’t.”

I wouldn’t need you to drive me if I knew how to drive.

“Well, you’ve never really shown any interest, you know?”

Jameson growled. It was no use arguing that of course he’d shown interest, it was Anti who never showed any interest in teaching or paying for lessons. No use in saying any of that, Anti would just ignore it or twist it back on him. Can you give me bus money, then?

“What? No! You’re not taking the bus all the way out of town. Anything could happen.” Aneirin turned off the sink water and picked up a towel, wiping down the plates. “Especially with things being...the way they are lately.”

The way they are? JJ repeated, confused.

“Things on my end,” Anti says cryptically. “You could get hurt. I don’t want you out where it’s dangerous.”

Of course. Aneirin was always concerned about danger. Jameson was never sure if that danger was real or just an excuse, but the possibility of it being real was enough to make him back off...usually. What if I called a friend to come with me to the park?

Anti immediately looked over at him. “What friend? Where’d you meet someone?”

It’s a hypothetical question, JJ signed, reluctant to admit he didn’t really know anyone despite living in the area for six years. He supposed that was what happened when you didn’t have a job to meet people and your older brother was a mercenary who’d scare off anyone you met by chance. What if I did that? 

“But...but I’ll be away all night,” Aneirin stammered, suddenly hurt. “Would you really want to celebrate without...no, that’s selfish, I know it.” He laughed. “I guess I just expected family to stick together for birthdays. I mean, I always clear my day up for you, which isn’t easy.”

But you didn’t clear your schedule for my day, Jameson signed, expression blank.

“I did! But this is an emergency. I’ll be here until nightfall, and I got a cake and everything so we could have dessert together.” Aneirin smiled softly. “We can go to the park tomorrow, or the day after. For now, I...I got you a present. I mean, that’s what you’re supposed to do, but...” He looked down. “Well...nevermind. I guess I couldn’t stop you if you wanted to leave right now.”

After a long pause, JJ sighed. Anti really was too good at this. And it wasn’t like he could sneak out and go there on his own, anyway. First, he didn’t know where Anti kept the cash or his credit card, and second, Anti had installed security cameras around the house a few months ago, making that impossible even if Jameson could find bus money. Alright, I suppose we could go there some other time, he signed.

Aneirin’s expression lit up. He leaped forward and wrapped Jameson in a tight hug. “Oh, thank you, Jamie. You’re so sweet. I love you.”

Jameson pulled back a bit. Love you, too, he signed.

“Oh, c’mon, you can’t say it?” Aneirin ruffled JJ’s hair, ignoring the way he immediately fixed it. “I think something like that needs to be said.”

A pit of dread opened up in Jameson’s stomach, but he knew he had to go through with it, or Anti would keep bugging him until he did. “Luh...luhf y-oo. Annn.”

“There we are. Now, how about I go get that cake?”

——————

JJ snapped out of the memory with a shudder. It had been a while. And he’d been glad of that at first. But then he met Chase, Marvin, and Jackie, and realized that quality time wasn’t supposed to be difficult and end with him always giving up what he wanted. Well, he was still working on that. It made up a lot of his discussions with his therapist.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was actually looking forward to his birthday, for once. He was sure it would be fun, even if he met up with Chase and Marvin separately instead of together.

He realized that he’d been standing there, spacing out, for a while, and the water for his tea was already boiling. He hurried to take the kettle off, and busied himself with the next steps. It was only a few days until his birthday. Things would be alright.

——————

Jackie was asleep. Anti could see him from where he was standing in the bedroom doorway. Idly, he recognized that being in that position for so long was probably doing some damage to Jackie’s body, but he didn’t care enough to move him somewhere else. It wasn’t like there was that much room in the apartment anyway.

Of course, that would start to be a problem when more people started to join him. Anti was already working on getting a second safe house, but it might take a few more days.

He slowly closed the bedroom door, leaving it open just a crack. There wasn’t that much in the room, just a bed, a dresser, and a desk with a chair. Anti sat down, and picked up his phone from where he’d left it on the desk. He flipped through the photos he’d taken a few days ago. The address of Jameson’s apartment building was clearly visible. He hadn’t been back there since that day. It wouldn’t do to be spotted, and therefore put JJ or others on their guard. No, they had to lower their defenses. And when the time was right, Anti would swoop in. He was already developing a plan.

His phone vibrated, and a notification appeared at the top. Looked like someone had a job offering for him. Anti clicked on it, reading quickly through the proposal. It wasn’t anything special. Just a target he didn’t know, without any special qualifications. Someone just wanted someone else dead and didn’t want to do it themselves.

“Think over it,” he decided, switching off his phone. There wasn’t a rush.

So, while he was here...Anti glanced over at the small turquoise notebook on the corner of the desk. After a bit, he picked it up and started scanning the handwritten pages. Always fascinating to read a professional’s take on someone’s mind. Though the analysis wasn’t the most important thing in the book.

Anti chuckled to himself, and flipped to the back. The keycard was still safely tucked close to the spine, in between the pages. Right where he left it. Right where he found it, when he’d decided to snatch the notebook from Marvin Maher’s house. And given the contents of the notebook, there could be only one door that this would unlock.

He glanced at a calendar hanging on the wall. It would happen soon. He just had to work out the wrinkles in his plan. Smiling to himself, Anti returned to his reading, silently plotting out the next few days.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #dr schneeplestein #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #antisepticeye #brigid writes fanfiction #pwtimeline

[stanbillyhargrove]

Demons - The Rewrite

Chapter 4: I’m Floating But I’m Heavy

Once I had ushered Billy out of the house I ran back to my room to masturbate to the memory of his lust filled groans and the forceful way he had fucked my throat. But once the high of that wore off I was once again left with the demons of my mind. Telling me to be ashamed of the way I look, that Billy would find me disgusting and that’s why I couldn’t let him see me naked. That I’m not special, Billy just wanted sex and when he grew tired of blowjobs he would leave, one way or another. I had to quiet the negativity in my mind, the only way I know how.

–

“Hey..”

“Billy? What are you doing here?” I asked as he slid through the window.

He tried to force a smile but kept his face turned from me, “wanted to see you.”

I grabbed his hand and tried to pull him into the light from my lamp but he didn’t budge.

“Turn the light out.”

“Why?” I asked trying again to pull him forward.

“Don’t.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing, Cat…please, the light.”

I gave him a worried look and reached out to turn my lamp off, casting us into the dim glow of the moonlight. Billy let me pull him a step forward then, but kept his face cast down.

I tilted Billy’s chin up to get a better look at his face and the evidence of a fight. Delicately, I thumbed away the streak of blood by his mouth, saying nothing as I examined it. Billy swallowed hard as I looked him dead in the eyes, his heart was beating nervously against the hand I had resting on his chest.

“Who did this to you?” I asked quietly, my whole body tense with barely restrained anger.

Billy smiled tightly and looked down at the ground, “I got in a fight.”

“Yeah no shit, with who?”

“Just some guy from school,” he mumbled.

“Don’t bullshit me, Billy,” I snapped, hand trembling as I reached up to touch the bruise spreading across his cheekbone.

He sighed, taking a moment to collect himself.

Breathing in deeply he looked at me, tears welling up, “Neil.”

My whole body was shaking now, rage quaking through me as my hand cradled Billy’s bruised face. Billy laid his hand on mine, pressing my hand to his face and closed his eyes, breathing in sharply at the pressure.

“Oh Billy, baby, come here,” I whispered, pulling him onto my bed and cradling his head to my sweater-clad chest. I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his back as he silently let tears fall, clutching at me. I bit my lip to keep my own tears from falling as we held each other until finally Billy took a shaky breath, sniffed and sat up.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to come unload all this on you. I wasn’t sure if you would even want to see me…I just ended up here.”

I looked at him confused, “why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

“I dunno, just the way you ran off earlier.. I thought maybe you felt pressured..”

“Oh.” I paused, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater, “Billy that’s not why I ran inside. I just- I needed to get my thoughts together and that wasn’t going to happen with you around.”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed, “do you want to be with me?”

“Yes,” I sighed, “I just can’t, not in the way you’re used to…”

“Why? You saving sex for when you get married?” He joked.

“Something like that..” I hugged my arms into my chest.

Billy was quiet for a minute, processing what that would mean for us - if there should even be an us - before reaching over and placing a warm hand on my knee.

“But blowjobs are okay?” He smirked.

I looked up at him, chuckling, “yeah, that’s okay.”

“Fuck it,” he quipped, “that was the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten from the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. If you want to be with me I’d love for you to be my girl, let’s see where this goes.”

“You’re so romantic,” I teased as I crawled into his arms.

Laughing, he pulled us down to the bed and held me to his chest, breathing in my hair. We laid there, relaxing into each other until I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and with our limbs tangled together.

–

I walked through blades of grass that stretched over me like trees. Past stones that towered like the largest of mountains and over carpets of fallen flower petals.

A horse sized mouse scurried past me. A gust of wind followed, catching in the iridescent wings on my back and sending me down into the dirt.

“Oh you poor thing,” a voice boomed.

I was blinded by sunlight when I looked up and felt myself being picked up while I was trying to rub the spots from my eyes.

“I’ll clean you up,” the giant cooed, dropping me into a glass jar.

The face came close, inspecting me and I realized it was my mother’s, “I’ll make you pretty and perfect.”

The jar was set on a dark wood shelf, the cool shade replacing the warm light I was used to. Stale air and cigarette smoke filled my lungs, making me feel like I was slowly suffocating.

I cried and beat my palms against the glass, begging for freedom. Fluttered to the top of the jar and clawed at the lid until my nails ripped backwards.

“Stop it!” The voice commanded, shaking the jar.

I heard the snap of my wings under my body before I felt it. The sick, hollow crunch as they bent under me.

“Well now look at what you’ve done. We can’t have you looking like that now, can we?”

I was dropped back into the jar, my body cold and shaking violently. I curled into myself and let the darkness wash over me, hoping I’d wake back in the field.

But I didn’t. I woke up in that jar, with searing pain in my back. I reached around myself, to the source of the pain. Felt angry wounds where my wings had been and screamed.

“Look at you,” the voice soothed, “look at us.”

The giant bent and a face came into view, my own face now. Skin stretched tight over pointed cheeks. She started to shrink, until she was tiny and light as a feather. Until I saw my shimmering wings fluttering on her back, lifting her off the shelf.

“We’re perfect.”

–

I awoke early in the morning to Billy carefully trying to untangle himself from my limbs, the movement and him unknowingly grabbing fresh scabs on my hip being enough to rouse me with a groan.

“Sorry, Babe, I was trying to be careful,” he whispered into the top of my head.

Rocky, my German Shepherd Rottweiler mix who had climbed onto the bed while we were sleeping and made Billy his pillow, huffed at Billy’s movements, jumping off the bed and stretching before laying down on the floor.

“Where you going?” I mumbled, nuzzling back into his chest.

“If I’m not home when everyone wakes up it’ll make things worse.”

My eyes snapped open as I shifted to look up at his face, taking in the purple splotches on his chin and cheek.

Carefully, I reached up to cup his face, “I wish you didn’t have to. Does it hurt?”

Closing his eyes, Billy leaned into my hand, hissing under his breath but not moving away, “only when I touch it,” he chuckled.

I bit my lip, “will you come pick me up later?”

“Right after breakfast, Babe,” he promised.

That’s how we spent the rest of the summer when he wasn’t working. Billy sneaking off to my house at night and sleeping with me and my dog Rocky using him as a pillow, aggressive blow jobs after make out sessions, holding Billy after fights with his dad, biting my lip to stop my silent tears from turning into heart breaking sobs and lots of talking. Everything was going great until school was about to start and the last party of the summer was announced.

@charmed-asylum

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove series #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #fanfiction #fanfic

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Eight, “I’m Home”

*Not my gifs*

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 7.6k words

Warnings: None

Music Inspo: Forever Like That by Ben Rector (click to listen)

                                     SNEAKYYYYYY PEEK

His eyes find mine first and I can’t tell if the sage green is blurring because my eyes deceive me, or that his betray him. Within seconds, it seems that both of our eyes have made a mess of themselves with tears, his shed onto my hand when he brings it to his lips with a kiss. I’m certain that he could taste mine when I steal a kiss from his lips, and those that water his neck with them, sure to not smudge the sentiment that waits to become permanent above his heart.

“Harry Styles,” I giggle nervously with hot cheeks, shaking my head as I stare at the floor, our intertwined hands blocking my view ever so wonderfully.

“My Rebecca Ann.”

Lifting them, my eyes find him like they always so easily do, and so do the divots that fall into his cheeks. The three words that I feel like repeating over and over to him fall again from his lips in a hushed whisper.

I love him more than I did just a second ago. Again.

"When I’m with her, I feel happy to be alive. Like I can do anything, even talk to you like this. So, that’s what I think love is. When I’m better because she’s here.” - Boy Meets World

+

“Reckon ‘ve neva seen a sight mo’ beautiful in me entire life.” 

“Sounds like you haven’t lived long enough then.” 

“‘m serious, Becks, yer absolutely gorgeous,” I exhale all in one breath, and with so many others wanting to spill out and join. “Yer everythin’, bug.” 

“Oh, hush.” 

“Or else, what, Becks? You’ll make me be quiet? Hmm, ‘d like t’ see you try that one, babe,” I tease, letting my nose drag along her cheek and my laugh float over to her ears. “Reckon yer takin’ too long. ‘m an impatient bloke, y’know.” 

It’s a tragedy to silence her lips budding with a bubbly laugh, but my, do they taste magnificent. Her smile does as well, and so does the song that ignites from my fingers as they run down her arms free of wires and tubes, albeit an annoying cast. 

“Meant it, y’know, that yer so beautiful,” I whisper against her mouth, lifting my head to punctuate my words with a kiss on top of her head. “You look good and seems like you feel that way, too.” 

“Mmmhmm,” she murmurs from below me, the corners of her rose colored lips curling into her cheeks. 

The pink has begun to return to them and so has her dimple indefinitely. It doesn’t compare to the fluttering inside of my chest at the sight of her ocean eyes peering up at me, the flecks of gold glimmering in the light. Admiring her seems to grow better as if climbing a mountain, because next, I get to enjoy the familiarity replaced with her wavy hair pooled over her shoulders. 

“I’m ready,” she exhales nervously, and the baby freckles dotting her cheeks blur in front of me. “Harry, don’t cry, or else you know that I will too.” 

“‘m sorry, ‘m jus’ so bloody happy,” I laugh, finding it hard to stop my lips from quivering as I look at her - the familiarity of the jeans and hoodie hugging her body, the new purple Vans bright on her feet, and the flicks of mascara she insisted on wearing even though she doesn’t need it. “‘m so unbelievably happy that I get t’ bring ya home, bug. Finally.” 

“Me too,” she croaks, a glistening tear falling into the divot of her dimple before collecting at her chin. They disappear from my view, both luckily and not, when she pulls me into her arms. I can’t complain about it, though. “Thank you. I could never say it enough for everything, Harry, you-.” 

“Yer welcome, Becks, forever and ever. No need t’ thank me, I know ya woulda done tha same fer me.” 

“I would have,” she whispers against my neck. I nod into her hair that my nose is smothered by in the best possible way, and it makes me wonder if you can overdose on the smell of orange blossoms and vanilla. It seems a happy drunkenness may come from smelling it, afterall. 

It’s a feat in and of itself to leave her arms, but it shrinks in comparison to the relief I feel at wiping her tears away, unsure of the last time I felt happy to do this, or this happy at all. 

“Shall we get goin’ then, love?” I ask her, thumbing at the imperfection in her cheek that could never be anything short of perfection to me. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Becks nods. “But, one thing first.” 

“What’s that? I didn’t think ya wanted t’ spend anotha second in this place.” 

“I don’t, but one last kiss is okay,” she smirks and quickly, I’m tasting the absence of melancholy and pain in her kisses. I know that they still sit there, somewhere near, but I choose to ignore them at this moment and to pretend that I can kiss her sadness away. “Okay, now, we can leave.”

“I know ‘ve been waitin’ too long t’ do so . . look at you being a superhero and e’rythin’, bustin’ outta here within a week . . Let’s bring you home already, bug.”

+

It’s rather hard to get used to - not one, but two things. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to how beautiful she is and I thought she was a sight when we left the hospital, but damn, was I wrong. She keeps doing that, proving me wrong, always has. I like it more now than I did in the beginning. Now, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets in her bed, it really is by far the best sight. 

My glowing smile sputters and almost goes out completely when I sigh with a hand in my hair. I just had gotten used to the idea of her being in a hospital and trusting the nurses, and now here I am, her nurse. I liked the thought at first, but now that it’s happened and I’m here, it scares the daylights out of me. 

What if I do something wrong?

What if I, of all people, hurt her - elbow her in the stomach in the middle of the night, mess up her bandaging when I rewrap it, or worst of all, mess up her meds?

It all frightens me when I know fully well that I should be the happiest person on earth right now to have her home. But after she got over her bout of sickness, I kept waiting for something else to happen, and I’m still sitting on the edge of that seat, waiting. I never saw the accident coming, but I want to expect the next one, as if I could ever stop something like that from happening. Pffft, I’m no superhero. I don’t know who I think I am, but I know that I want to be everything she needs, and yet, deep down I never could be. 

“Harry?”

“Ya, bug? You alright?” I murmur, my hand falling to my side. “Ya need anythin’?”

“Eh, just for you to watch some FRIENDS with me,” she mumbles, cocking her body to look at me over her shoulder. The eagerness taut in her features melts away, and I straighten up, hoping that I didn’t blow my own cover.

“Alright, Harry?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine, Becks. Jus’ thinkin’ ‘m gonna hafta readjus’ me rules fer fallin’ asleep in the middle o’ watchin’ sumthin’ as we might both break that rule,” I quip, leaving my watch in the doorway to join her under the covers.

Worrying away at my bottom lip, I fail to ignore how that lie went over about as well as if she would’ve told it to me. I could be a good liar, but never to her, and the thought itself cements my insides with guilt.

Her laugh fills the dark with some light inside of me, and her famous toasty body nuzzles against mine.

“You’re sure?” Becks wonders aloud, and meeting her questioning gaze is overdue as I stare off into space.

“‘Bout what?” I reply, a V belatedly forming between my brows in wonder.

“If you’re alright. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that I believe you.”

“Oh, that,” I exhale with an ironic laugh that couldn’t be anything but sad. “Ya, I dunno if I believe meself eitha,” I answer at last, feeling much too sour to keep secrets from her that sprout into lies.

No, if I’ve learnt anything recently, it’s that life can flip you on your ass in a moment. I could lose her in a blink, and I very well almost did. The very last night that I want to be thinking is, ‘why did I tell her that silly little lie when I could’ve just grown a pair and told her the truth?’

“Harry, what’s the matter?” she speaks up, lulling the monsters away with her fingers scratching my beard. “I think you need a nap, you’ll feel better after some sleep, and in a bed.”

“No- I mean, ya. Yer right, but that’s not it.”

“What is it then? You can talk to me, love,” she says, and the sentiment weeds into my thoughts and greets my heart. 

“I jus’ . . I wanna be enough fer you, Becks, and I dunno if I can,” I confess gently, avoiding her intimidating gaze and instead, entranced by her twirling that braided ring.

“Harry, where’s this coming from? Why do you feel that way?” Becks sighs sadly, and within moments, I wish that I’d never said a thing.

“Nevamind, ‘s jus’ tha sleep deprivation talkin.’ Ignore, silly ol’ me.”

“No, I won’t ignore what you said, because it’s not true,” she replies firmly. The prickly wrapping of her arm cast rubs at my jaw when she turns my head to look at her. “I can’t force you to talk, and I don’t want to make you do anything, but . . I’m here, Harry. You’ve said that loads when I’m afraid or losing my shit . . and I dunno, it grounds me.”

“Thanks,” I smile slowly, feeling the words warm up on my tongue. “I want mo’ than anythin’ t’ take care o’ you and ‘m over tha moon happy yer home, but . . ‘m afraid I won’t do a well enough job, or that ‘ll mess it up.”

“You won’t, Harry,” she assures me, leaving circles drawn onto my cheek that may be invisible to everybody else, but me. 

“How d’ya know?”

“Because you’ve shown me how good you can take care of me, especially this week, and the whole two and a half years I’ve known you, Harry Styles,” she insists, leading my eyes back to hers. “I know you’ve told me it a hundred times, but I think it’s time you heard it too - everything is going to be okay. I’m okay, and you’re going to be okay.” 

I nod quickly, swallowing against a dry throat and feeling the slick swiping of her finger catch the tears. They don’t just stop there and proceed to drown her fingers, and then the fabric of her shirt when she drags me over to her and against her front. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she hums softly, zings of electricity left at the sight of her fingertips beside my spine. “This is the real scary part, huh? To come home and to act like everything is okay, and to return to real life . . I feel it too, it’s kind of suffocating . . but I know that we’ll get through this, taking care of each other. I’m not going anywhere, love.” 

“Thank you . . fer stayin . . fer bein’ here.’” 

“Always, Harry.”

++

“Always,” I murmur, gently breaking through the tangles found in his hair, falling like ribbons between my fingers. Licks of the vanilla and something musky waft from his hair when I press a kiss to the crown of his head. 

I let my heavy sigh fall into his curls as my cheek molds to his skull, a hummed song escaping my lips. It sings itself while I drag my fingers through his hair until there are no more snarls or tangles to be found, and my fingers ache from drawing circles into his back. The sniffling and sobs have ended finally, replaced by gentle snoring. His chest rising and falling against mine brings a quiet peace to me, and only now can I let my eyes fall shut, unsure if I feel heavier or lighter now. All that time where I was trying to heal, and even now, I was numb to the fact that he was breaking at my side, further and further. 

I hope that you’ll let me fix you, too, Harry.

+

Sunlight creeps in through the hastily drawn shades, leaving my eyes scoured with white patches in front of them. Blinking them away slowly, my gaze wanders to the covers I lay beneath and that take me a few moments to place. It all comes together, like puzzle pieces, as I watch my bedroom sharpen around me. I feel the smile tug at my lips when I find the tousled head of dark curls lying opposite of me. He’s more real than he was a second ago when his thickening beard rubs at the back of my finger, and his locks fall through my fingers. Creases form on his forehead and a light moan sounds from behind his lips. 

“Shh, go back to sleep, it’s okay,” I coo against his hair with a kiss, feeling my smile widen when his arms come around my middle. 

“So, this is real,” I whisper, tracing shapes through his Queen shirt, relishing the sleepy warmth he spreads across me. With a huff, my hands find new homes on his body and I let myself fall back to sleep, thinking of all of the other dreams I’d like to come true next.

+

Shoots and zings of pain awaken me the next time, followed by the creaking of the door and a different voice. 

“Ree, you awake?” somebody whispers from behind the door, but when I see the shock of green hair, I wonder how I could forget that face for a second. “Hey, morning- well, for one of you. It’s time for your meds, and I made some brekky. You should have your pills with it, I can bring some in for you.” 

“Morning . . No, it’s okay, I want to let him sleep. I think he needs it more than me, do you think you could help me up and out?”

“Sure thing,” she whispers, her pink bunny slippers making soft pat-pat noises on the hardwood floor. 

“Sweet dreams,” I wish ever so softly into his hair smelling of Sundays baking with my gran. Regrettably, my arms jelly like from sleep slide away from him, and I inch towards the other side of the bed. 

“That had to have been the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“Yeah, it’s like living in a dream,” I remark with a happy laugh, exhaling when my bum finds the cushions of the sofa. “If you would’ve told twenty-four year old that I’d be waking up to Harry in my bed at twenty six, I wouldn’t have believed you.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me, I wouldn’t have believed you, either,” Skye giggles, setting down a plate in front of me with a soft clatter, accompanied by the tap of a glass of orange juice. 

“Okay, Chef Robbins, how much do you think I can eat? I’m not bloody pregnant, now am I? I’m just injured, not eating for two here,” I quip, nevertheless picking up the fork and stabbing at a curd of scrambled eggs. 

“Don’t you even, you need to be getting your appetite back. I don’t expect anything less out of you - eating all of this. You have every damn food group on this plate, thank you very much - Harry would be proud.” 

“He would. What, did you blooming write up a food menu with him, or something?” I ask through a few bites of fluffy eggs. 

“No, but we did come up with a list of groceries together, so I reckon that’s fairly the same.” 

“You, go grocery shopping, since when?” I say, crumbs littering my fingers when I pick up the half slice of buttered toast, shoveling cheesy eggs onto them. 

“Since your bloody boyfriend bullied me into doing it.” 

“Hmm, I should’ve had him do that a long time ago,” I laugh, and it’s welcomed by the sound of her obnoxious one. “My bloody God, you’re going to wake him up with that honker of yours, you know that!” 

“Whoops, I better shut up. I need you all to myself for a change.” 

“Oh, hush up, you had me all to yourself for twenty years or so, reckon you can give me up for a little bit,” I jest, watching her wild bed head shake back and forth with her disagreement. “Also, when’d you become a cook? This is good.” 

“It’s eggs and cheese, no duh it’s good and it’s easy. Is he going to have any? There’s plenty more.” 

“I dunno, I want him to get some more sleep. The poor guy’s been sleeping on a sofa for the last week, for Christ’s sake.” 

“Fuck,” she sighs, biting into her toast with a crunch, leaving grape jam on her lips quite adorably. “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.” 

“What?” I say, staring at the blobs of jam on her lips until I hear my name rasped from the other side of the room. “Harry. H-hi, good morning. There’s uh, breakfast if you want some.” 

“Oh, thanks. ‘ll use tha loo first.” 

“And maybe put a shirt on, or, maybe not after all,” Skye jokes under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear as I watch Harry disappear down the hallway enclosed by the kitchen’s back wall. Every inch of his sleepy body regrettably leaves my eyes, including the mess of bedhead on him, the lack of a shirt, and amongst other things, those green eyes that only relaxed when they found me. 

“Shut up, you creep!” I retort, failing to keep my chuckle to a low hush when her contagious laugh does its magic. 

“All I’m saying is that I’m not complaining about the new house guest,” she explains with a shrug of her measly shoulders, standing to her feet. “I guess I’ll give the happy couple some privacy and eat my brekky with Buffy in my room.” 

“Yeah, you go and pout, and leave my boyfriend alone in the hallway.” 

“I can’t promise anything!” Skye squeals, her slippered feet slowly becoming harder to hear. 

“Mmm, when’d ya wake up, bug?” somebody else asks, but I was ready and noticed him the moment his tall body walked back into frame. 

“Only a few minutes ago.” 

“Oh, how’re you feelin’? Did you take yer meds yet?” Harry questions, rubbing at his eyes on his way into the kitchen, too far away for my liking. 

“I’m fine, but sore. Skye woke me up in the middle of the night to take my meds then, and I’m just about to take some more. How fun.” 

“Oh, ‘m sorry I missed ‘em last night, Becks. I thought I set an alarm on my phone,” he yawns, his drowned out voice accompanied by the scraping of the pan. 

“Yeah, I turned it off after she had done it, because I wanted you to sleep. That’s why I didn’t wake you just now, you need to sleep more.” 

“I know, but ‘m okay. I woke up and saw you weren’t there, and I couldn’t fall back asleep.” 

“You’re cute when you’re all worried,” I joke, chewing the last bite of scrambled eggs as the sofa cushions dip underneath me. “And shirtless.” 

“Oh ya . . sorry ‘bout that. I mean it when I say yer a li’l heater, Becks, and with all o’ those blankets, I must’ve gotten too hot and taken me shirt off sumtime,” he explains with a shake of his head, the bright flesh of the strawberry contrasting to his bubblegum pink lips that surround it. Okay, Becky, it is too early and my brain is too foggy to be having these kinds of thoughts already today. “Alright, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. The strawberries just look so good,” I lie, picking up one and biting into the juicy fruit. I’m unsure of how to feel about the fib going over his head, but it’s whisked away when his cold toes playing footsie with mine instead nudge mine repeatedly. 

“Pills,” he insists from across me, nodding to the foreign looking organizer sat on the coffee table before me. 

“Yes, yes, Nurse Styles,” I exhale, leaning forward to grab them, but I stop when a tight pain radiates through my abdomen. 

“What’d I tell ya ‘bout bein’ careful, love? Ya can’t push yerself too hard now. Are you okay?” Harry coos, dropping his fork onto the plate sat on his lap, making quick work of grabbing the case for me. 

“I know, Dad.” 

“Now, what’d ‘d say ‘bout all that bein’ stubborn shit . . huh?” he rasps, voice framed by the clicking and clacking of the case opening and pills shaking about. 

“I know, I know, you’re just fun to tease.” 

“We know that too,” he answers, setting the case aside and clearing his throat a few times until I look at him. 

“What, do you not know how to use your words?” he only dips his head a little lower and sighs. 

“Watch tha mouth,” he huffs jokingly, dropping the slew of pills into my palm with a nod to my orange juice. 

“You never said anything about toning down the sass.” 

“Didn’t gather that I needed t’, Rebecca Ann, ‘ssa given,” he replies with his seesaw like shoulders helping him talk, finishing off the last few bites of his toast. 

With a groan, I pick up the heavy bottomed glass and between a few glugs of juice, swallow down the multitude of pills. I chase them down with a few more bites of strawberries and hash browns. 

“That betta not be all yer eatin’, Becks,” Harry tuts from my side, scraping his fork along the plate to gather the last scraps of eggs. 

“I’m done.” 

“No, yer not. Ya can be afta ya have two mo’ bites o’ p’tatoes, a strawb’rry, and finish yer juice,” he instructs, pointing his fork at the various food items. 

“Fine, Dad,” I grunt, returning the fork to my hands and doing as he says. “You know, I’d make some joke about how you’d be a good lawyer, or better yet, a good father being all bossy, if you weren’t getting on my nerves.” 

“That means ‘m doin’ me job then,” he chuckles softly from his perch on the sofa. “Hey, where d’ya think yer goin’?”

“What, I can’t go pee without you having to know that too?”

“Sorry,” he barely squeaks, looking away sheepishly from behind me. 

“It’s okay, just chill on the ‘hovering dad thing’ when you’re well, not a dad.” 

“I wouldn’t hafta act like yers if ya did what yer told with a li’l less attitude,” he bites back sarcastically, and I wish that he could see my eyes rolling from this far away. 

“I learned from only the best!” 

“Hey!” his protest meets my ears just as I close the bathroom door with a giggle, sighing when I get off my dodgy ankle to relieve myself.

+

“How upset are ya with me?” Harry coos, a creak heard behind him as he shuts my bedroom door. 

“I’m not upset. I’d just like a little more ‘friendly nurse’ and a little less ‘drill sergeant’ from you, is all.” 

“‘m sorry, bug, but we know both yer ‘bout tha most stubborn person we both know,” he explains, daring a few fingers to stroke my cheek. “C’mon, open ‘em up, Ocean Eyes.” 

“No.” 

“Becks,” he drawls with a feisty giggle, dragging his nose down the expanse of my cheek. “Y’know ya can’t stay mad at me fo’ too long, ya’ve never been able t’.” 

“Oh, wanna bet?” 

“Rebecca Ann,” he whines, bringing forth a giggle from my lips at his beard tickling my neck. 

“What, Harry Edward? I swear, we’ve known how to push each other’s buttons since the beginning.” 

“I don’t disagree,” he says in that breathy laugh. “C’mon, let’s have a cuddle, babe. You can’t deny me.” 

“Oh, wanna bet?” I chuckle, moving away from him, finding that this stupid arm cast of mine gets stuck everywhere and on everything. 

“Becks!” he scoffs with the most offended look on his face when he leaves my neck. “Be nice t’ me, ‘m jus’ tryna love on you, bug.” 

“I don’t disagree,” I quip, relishing in the eye roll I receive and fully deserve, and enjoying the happiness that trickles from my lips next. 

“C’mere, li’l one, yer bein’ a li’l shit again, I think I may have even missed it,” Harry says, the bed dipping under his weight as he returns me to his arms, draping the covers over us. “My bug,” he coos, following the nickname with a slew of kisses to my cheeks. 

I think I’ve almost made it, almost.

+

“Harry, would you stop it already?!” I groan, exasperated by the sound of shuffling items and the pew-pew of the spray bottle. 

“‘m almost done, Becks.” 

“That’s what you said half an hour ago, Harry! Ugh, stop cleaning already and come and watch FRIENDS with me. We both know you’re not really watching it when you’re cleaning, no matter what you say,” I sigh, flipping open the covers in invitation. He stands back up and his eyes cast over to me with a raised eyebrow. Both of mine inch towards my forehead in response, challenging him. “Harry Edward, I swear to-,” I wheeze, losing my control. 

“You swear what, huh, Rebecca Ann?” he responds, at last setting down the rag and cleaning spray on my desk that has never sparkled or looked so tidy as it does now, along with the rest of my bedroom. “Huh? Talkin’ a lotta shit, aren’t we? I swear t’ God, yer all bark and no bite,” he continues with a smile, the overhead light glinting on his gold cross necklace laid over his Beatles shirt that, much to my dismay, he slipped on after a shower this morning. 

“You wanna bet?”

“Ya, I do,” he says, his hands falling splayed onto the mattress in front of me. My God, is he a tease with those long muscular arms, and licking those rose colored lips.

Fuck. 

I can’t hold back anymore and press on the back of his neck, losing my fingers in the tight ringlets of hair sitting there, smiling into the kiss. 

“Hey, watch it!” he exclaims, pulling away quickly and sucking on his bottom lip that my teeth had just sunk into. “Bloody hell, remind me not t’ doubt you anymo’, you li’l shit.” 

“Your little shit,” I correct him with a smirk, pulling him closer by the neck and trying not to laugh at the shocked look on his face. 

“My, you are sumthin’, aren’t you, Becks? I betta watch out. I gotta strong one here . . atta girl,” his smile is the last thing I see before his lips return to mine. “Wait a second.” 

“What? I wanted to kiss you some more.” 

“Oh, stop whinin’, my li’l baby,” he titters, walking away much to my dismay and opening the door to my closet. “What have I found here, hmm? ‘s this a photo album o’ baby Becks?”

“Oh, you found that?” I giggle, yanking up the covers to my shoulders and enjoying my view of him crossing the room. There is just something else about a man in joggers, sigh. 

“Ya, when I was cleanin’. Looks like me hard work paid off afta’ all,” Harry says, sliding under the blankets with me. “What’re you starin’ at me like that fer?” 

“Nothing,” I sigh shyly, scooting over until my head finds his tummy and his arm finds the curve of my shoulders. 

“What’re you blushin’ ‘bout, li’l one?” he giggles from above me, laying his arm over the closed photo album. I only find that he’s forgotten it when I dare to peer up at him, and his eyes are waiting on me. 

“I just- I dunno,” I huff with my cheeks aching from shy smiles. “This is kind of all I ever wanted, give or take a few parts. Including the waking up to you shirtless in my bed, and looking all cute in comfy clothes.”

That breathy laugh sparks his lips into a smile again, followed by his bottom lip escaping to between his teeth nervously. 

“I don’t disagree,” he quips, and this time, I actually groan at how cheesy he can be. “Really tho’, Becks, I wanted all o’ this too. I dunno what t’ do with meself now that I have it all - get t’ wake up t’ you in tha mornin’, take care o’ you, spend me day watchin’ FRIENDS with you, and now, lookin’ at yer baby pictures with you. I can’t wait t’ see what our kids are gonna look like.” 

“Stop it, or I’ll cry again,” I croak, swatting at his chest, but it’s nothing more than a tap. 

“I hope those are happy ones,” he whispers into my hair, and a small laugh joins the tears running over my lips. “Bloody hell, think I might spill a few as well. Look at these, were you tha cutest baby or what?” Harry sighs happily after opening the book to a random page, lifting it to get a better look at a photo of four-month old Robbie and me in matching Winnie the Pooh Halloween costumes. Looking up at him, something twinkles in his eye and in his cheeks where the dimples sit lower than ever. 

I hope oh so badly that our babies have those dimples of his. Someday.

Until then, I’ll soak up these days of waking up to him, hopefully shirtless, and falling asleep together watching our favorite show, and wondering how it could get any better.

+

Every day seemed to run into the next, and in the best way possible, don’t get me wrong. I got to wake up to Harry beside me, toasty in my bed, and due to that, absent of a shirt and I was not complaining. No, siree. Some body parts still hurt quite a bit, but slowly they hurt less and less, and through that time we got our routine down. Pills three times a day and then twice, Skye helped me with showers, physical therapy three times a week, my ankle became more steady, I could stay awake for longer periods at a time without needing a nap like a growing puppy, and quickly, I was fighting Harry for the last sausage or cookie. 

He was enjoying it too, I could just tell. I would bet a lot of money that he couldn’t be enjoying it as much as me, though. 

To say that I didn’t get sick of him would be a lie, because oh, were there moments. First, there was his incessant cleaning to keep him busy, which luckily was remedied by his Zoom meetings for work that he’d take in the living room once a day while I napped. Secondly, I swear he watched me and closely as I ate, and it got annoying very fast. The naps and Zooms helped loads though, as did the few times he went home to grab different clothes, do laundry and the like, and go grocery shopping, but even then I missed him a little bit. As soon as he left because I got sick of him, I wished he would come back, and that’s how it went again and again.

+

The cold bites at my cheeks, sure to have left them rosy and wind chapped. Not quickly enough, the car begins to warm up and so do I. 

“Alright?” he says with a warmth to his voice that curls around my icy bones. Turning in my seat, I find his lips pinker than ever as he rubs the feeling back into my arm, my free one. Nodding at him, he returns it before pulling the seat belt over him and checking his mirrors. 

“Are you?” I ask, a few moments after he had begun to drive. 

“Mmmhmm,” he responds, kneading at his lips once we arrive at a red light, briefly meeting my eyes but not holding them. 

“You’re . . acting weird, Harry,” I say slowly, unsure of my words and how he’ll receive them. “I’m the one still getting nervous about being in a car, so what’s your excuse?” 

“Nuthin’ . . ,” he insists, grabbing hold of my hand when the light turns green, twirling the bracelet around my wrist absentmindedly. “‘Kay . . I was wonderin’ if we could stop somewhere befo’ we go home. Y’know, if yer not too tired afta P.T. jus’ now.”

“No, I’m good- I mean, yeah, we can. Preferably, if I can sit down at this place you’re going after that workout I just had.” 

“I think that can be arranged,” Harry grins, avoiding my prying eyes that search for a hidden meaning in his words. Narrowing my eyes, I squint at him, hoping that will help me to decode his answer, but I come up empty. Sighing, I look away, unsure of why he isn’t letting me read him this one time, but forgetting it after I remember how unbelievably handsome he’s looking with the beard and ochre colored beanie pulled over his curls. “Stop starin’ at me, woman,” he titters, and I only reply with a confused shake of my head.

+

Sighing, I pull my phone from my pocket and find the absence of new texts, still. A smile tries at my lips when I revisit my screensaver that I gloss over at times, a giggly selfie from bed with Harry. I trace the dimples in his cheeks and the smile pinching them before letting it fall back into my pocket. 

The shelves of items and hangers of clothes don’t do anything for me, nothing jumping out at me to buy it, and so I wander on to the next little shop, a bakery. Soon, a gooey cinnamon roll occupies my time as I wait, wait, and wait. 

“What’s taking you so long, Harry?” I grumble under my breath, finding a seat in the corner of my favorite little coffeeshop down the street. It feels good to get off my ankle that still bothers me at times. Setting down my hot chocolate, the cinnamon roll stills in my hand when I look up and find my familiar view. 

If I look hard enough, the sun is streaming in through the windows and that Bon Iver song is trickling from the speakers again. The mystery novel is sitting in front of me, beside a half empty mug of coffee, and there he is. He’s making jokes with the barista at the front, arms folded over the tall flat surface where outgoing drinks are placed for pick up. My heart could do it again, race incessantly like a horse out of its gate, and I’d likely remain glued to this seat, unwavering but not unwanting. 

Dinggggg! 

Blinking, I’m jolted from the memory by a sound, and suddenly, the sun isn’t leaking into the coffee shop and he isn’t standing there, belonging to somebody else anymore like I had dreamt about last night. My nightmares sure are getting creative these days, drudging up old memories from last summer, the summer from Hell. They must be drying up if they have to resort to the time I saw him in this coffee shop after he’d starting dating somebody else, the day I felt shocked in my seat dying to say hi to him, but more afraid than ever. It feels like another person then, to be afraid to go up to Harry and to say hi, but that’s how it all was. It’s how it all felt, and how I was feeling. He felt like another person entirely and so did I, as if strangers.

Shaking my head and then grimacing at the slight ache that it still holds, I glance down at my phone to find the text that I’ve been waiting for. 

sorry it took me so long bug. i hope ya found something u liked at one of the shops, or coffee, knowing u ;) i’m guessing ur at the coffee shop still from ur snapchat, so if u turn the left corner, and go down to the end of that block, you’ll find me there ;) see u soon baby

I can’t hide the smile that sticks to my lips as I leave with the cinnamon roll tucked safely into my hands, but it wavers when I come across the shop he speaks of. I double check and I triple check before finding his Range Rover parked a few yards away, telling me that this is the place. How odd, I think, as the bell tinkles overhead and the classic rock music greets me. 

It only takes me a few moments to find him, waiting on a brown leather sofa in a waiting room of sorts, wringing his hands in his lap. Uh yeah, I can only think of one reason why, and no more than that. I can’t tell if the anxiousness painting his body worsens or remains the same when he spots me in the doorway, standing to his feet and taking my hand. 

“Hey, that’s mine!” I exclaim, grabbing for the last bite of the cinnamon roll that he steals from me. “Harry!” I sigh, watching him feed it between his lips, but he leaves one last bite pinched between his fingers. 

“Oh, ya want this?” he smirks, holding it out for me. I inch forward and am surprised with a messy kiss that tastes of cinnamon and sugar, sparking a song behind my lips. “Here, baby Becks,” he coos, feeding it to me at last before he tugs on my hand to follow him. 

“Harry, what’s going on? Why are we here? Why are you here, or do I even need to ask?” 

“I thought ya graduated top o’ yer class, so ya should know why we’re here, Ms. Lawyer. Use yer deductive reasonin’ skills, Becks - why do ya deduce we’re at a tattoo shop?”

“Harry,” is all I say, voice absent of anything and everything as I follow him down a short hallway, and into a room that resembles a doctor’s office. It’s not much bigger, but is a spitting image with the massage parlor looking black bed-table-thingy. 

“Matt, this ‘s Becks, and Becks, this ‘s Matt,” Harry says, and a tall man turns around and shines his pearly whites at me. “He’s been doin’ me tattoos fer awhile now, best artist I know.”

“H-Hi, nice to meet you.” 

“You as well, I’ve heard a lot about you over the years,” Matt responds warmly, waving over to a comfy looking black office chair against the wall. Harry has already helped himself to the massage parlor looking thing, and his North Face and jumper have found their way off of him, too. “I hear you’re the reason we’re here today.” 

“Wait, I am? What?” I answer, eyes flitting over to Harry’s. I’m sure of the alarm that blazes in them, and the flames only grow higher when he lets go of my hand. I can’t say that they die down when he slides off his long sleeved shirt dotted with nineties Nickelodeon tv shows, showing the entire room his sculpted torso and inked arms. The sage in his eyes warms and he scoops my hand up again, squeezing it and rubbing hearts into the back of my hand. 

“Ya ready t’ see what ‘m gettin’, Becks?” Harry grins ever so proudly, I don’t think that his grin could be any more shit eating than it is right now.

The moments follow and they pass as Matt takes out a piece of what looks like tissue paper on it with purple ink, the design obscured from my eyes. The last thing he does before leaving is to press it to the blank slate above Harry’s heart, and slowly peels it away, revealing the image to me at last. 

His eyes find mine first and I can’t tell if the sage green is blurring because my eyes deceive me, or that his betray him. Within seconds, it seems that both of our eyes have made a mess of themselves with tears, his shed onto my hand when he brings it to his lips with a kiss. I’m certain that he could taste mine when I steal a kiss from his lips, and there are those that water his neck with them, sure to not smudge the sentiment that waits to become permanent above his heart. 

“Harry, is that-,” I begin at last after pulling away from him, my hand falling from his cheek slick with tears. 

“Mmmhhm, ‘s yers,” he answers with a definitive nod, several meanings encapsulated in his words, but I take with me only a few. My fingers trace above his skin the four numbers, ever so familiar to me. “Yer handwritin’, Becks.” 

“Why 2024?” I wheeze, wiping away the lingering tears, knowing that they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. As I speak them, the answer rings behind my eyes, but I wait for his answer.

“‘Cuz,” he answers, like it’s ever so obvious, willing my eyes back to his waiting pair. “I know this year’s only started, and ‘s been a bit o’ a shit show t’ say tha least, but ‘s tha year that brought you back t’ me, and let me keep you. ‘ll be grateful t’ it forever, and t’ you, Becks.” 

“I love you,” I whisper, not having decided to say the words and yet, there they are, spilling themselves to his ears. 

“I love you, baby, mo’ than anythin’,” he giggles happily, a tear breaking free from his eye to course down his cheek. His beard is ticklish against my temple where his lips litter kisses and love, the reason those very numbers are about to become permanent right where his heart lives under his chest. “I found a grocery list you had written tha other day, and I dunno- I jus’ loved tha way you wrote tha year and how those numbas meant so much . . and mo’ importantly, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout how I wanted t’ forget all o’ this . . yer accident. So, instead o’ forgettin’, I wanna remember this bumpy start we’ve had, by this, havin’ yer writin’ on me fer me life.”

“Harry Styles,” I giggle nervously with hot cheeks, shaking my head in disbelief as I stare at the floor, our intertwined hands blocking my view ever so wonderfully. 

“My Rebecca Ann.” 

Lifting them, my eyes find him like they always so easily do, and so do the divots that fall into his cheeks. The three words that I feel like repeating over and over to him fall again from his lips in a hushed whisper at Matt’s return. 

“Are we ready to get this show on the road?”

Harry nods at me with a questioning look, and I nod at him, squeezing his hand. 

“Alrighty then, let’s do it,” Matt announces with enthusiasm in his voice, something that wanes inside of me at the prospect of seeing Harry in pain. 

If he can do it, going through about as much hell as I did after that car hit me, then I can at least do this. The insane amount of flattery and the overwhelming love that radiates off of him as the tattoo gun begins to buzz, helps to soften the blow. 

I love him more than I did just a second ago. Again.

+

It smells the same, and sounds like before. I welcome the familiarity, but a shy nervousness sits in the corner of my mind, and deep down, inside of my gut. An excitement tries to overtake it up there, and I wait on the sidelines to see what will happen. 

The thought is whisked away when there’s a whisper of a touch against my temple, and my body bumps habitually into his, seeking safety. Blinking hard and looking upwards to my left, I find a smile waiting in those molten sage eyes. 

“Alright, bug?” Harry coos, leaning down to press his lips to mine briefly. I nod in reply, waving my thumb over his jawline hidden in thick facial hair, a sight I never thought I’d see inside of these four walls. “Are ya ready t’ get back into tha thick o’ it, Becks?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s about time that you let me come back, I’ve been going mad sitting at home having nothing to do for the last few weeks, and especially since you’ve been back part time since last week,” I answer, the song he sings joining that of my own when his fingers brush against my ribs that don’t ache from his touch anymore, and his nose nudges at my temple that doesn’t hurt when I laugh too hard. 

“Hey, I know that, but I wanted t’ make sure ya wouldn’t over exert yerself and yer arm ‘s still gettin’ all caught up bein’ in that cast fer awhile. Also, I rememba a certain sumbody practically forcin’ me t’ come back, I didn’t have much say over tha matter. Hmmm, I can only wonder who that’d be,” he jests, and all hints of my poker face run away from me as he raises his eyebrows at me. The very pair he let me have my way with the other day, which lasted about five seconds before he started whining, even though the woosey has fresh ink on him.

“I know, you’re still being Daddy Harry,” I sigh dramatically, its ending found in a deep chuckle that he elicits from my lips with a surprise bear hug. His laugh drips with molasses too, and I feel like this couldn’t taste any sweeter, my arms hidden under his blazer and nudging at his belt. 

“I’ll manage.” 

“I know ya will, ya always do . . my Becks. ‘ll be there t’ help too,” Harry smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head as the electronic number reaches to twelve above our heads. My head falls to the crook of his neck where it’s longed to be . . for such a long time. Years. His solid arms filled with safety lift from me and return once they wrap his violet blazer around me, and only do I close my eyes when his lips find a temporary home on the top of my head. “Y’know, I dunno what t’ call you now - mentee, colleague, girlfriend.” 

“You can just call me either or, boss boyfriend,” I suggest, meeting his glowing green eyes while an electronic ding sounds overhead, signaling another floor passed. 

“Sounds good t’ me, Rebecca Holte,” he hums, a corner of his mouth curled into his cheek and sharing that happy dimple with me. The chipped black nail polish teases at my sight when his thumb runs over the brand new scars dotting my cheeks that he’s healed with his kisses. “Ya betta make this one last fer a while now, we have a meetin’ right off tha bat,” he says firmly with raised eyebrows, but a smile teases at its corners. 

Standing on my tiptoes, I lean forward and close my eyes, seeing the glinting flecks of gold in his eyes as I taste the honey on his lips. It’s hidden in the words that pass unspoken between our lips, cut short by the declarative beeps and the number sixteen waiting atop, seventeen just around the corner. With a giggle, I steal one last peck from his lips, and watch as he shakes his head after my wandering hand squeezed his bum. 

“C’mon, you li’l shit,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes, adjusting the strap of his shiny, new messenger bag strewn across his chest. “Or would ya ratha I say, ‘shall we, Becks?” Harry asks, holding out a hand in front of us, and I nod. 

“Let’s go, boyfriend,” I say with a large smile, catching the wink he gives me as our shoes click and clack on the marbled black tiling of the firm’s floors. 

Now, I have.

I’ve really made it now.

I thought I had once or twice before, but this is it. I have it all, and more is on the way, and no longer are the dreams out of arm’s reach. No, they’re right there where I can touch them, and so is a very special one that won’t stop smiling at me, and I wouldn’t ever want to stop smiling at him.

Another thing I’m sure of is that I’d never want to stop listening to the song that flows from his lips, I could listen to it for the rest of my life.

                             THE END . . FOR NOW

Don’t miss Harry and Becks’ future adventures in the sequel to The Assistant, The Partner, coming soon! Until then, you can catch up with Hecky when The Firsts, an Assistant Blurb Series, begins September 14th at 12pm CST! Keep an eye out for the masterlist post for The Firsts, to be published soon! I could never thank all of you enough for reading and for sticking around this long with me. I am so excited to continue this series and for you to see what’s coming ;) See you in two weeks!

#the assistant hs #hecky #pa harry #harry x becks #harry styles x becks holte #becks holte #lawyer!harry #boss!harry #ceo!harry #office romance #lawyer romance #enemies to lovers #tsundere #slowburn #fluff #angst #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #young adult #fiction #fanfiction #wattpad #writing #lawyer fanfiction #lawyer x assistant #narrymccartney writes #the end #last chapter #new update #chaptered fic

[izaswritings]

Title: cinema blues

Fandom: RWBY

Synopsis: The night of the election, Oscar, Weiss, and Jaune go to the movies. ...Try to go to the movies, anyway.

(Or: in which Oscar is homesick, Weiss worries about election things, and Jaune frets about everything else. Problems aren't so easily avoided.)

AO3 Link is here.

.

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to, Weiss.”

It is already evening in the city of Atlas, the sun setting far off behind the distant skyscrapers, all the buildings cast in dark silhouetted shadow. The theater is a hub of light and sound in contrast to the slowly dimming streets— a glowing sign flashes high above, the glass doors shining golden from the sheer wealth of light and noise and fanfare inside. Still, it’s far less crowded than Oscar had expected. In the eve of election day, the great cinema house has been left practically abandoned in favor of political celebrations and late-night distractions.

Of course, that doesn’t mean the theater is empty. The shortened lines wrap around the building, the air heavy with the smell of hot food, the distant conversations like a constant murmur in his ears. The three of them—Weiss, Jaune, and Oscar—are standing under a bright flashing sign, looking at a list of movie names that mean absolutely nothing, watching the lines move in.

“I know,” Weiss says, to Jaune. “Which is why I came, because I did want to.” Her arms are crossed, her eyes fixed on the movie board; she’s frowning, slightly, her foot tapping as she reads. Beside her, Jaune looks torn between fond and overwhelmed, and Oscar, a bit ahead of them both, watches the ticket-goers enter the theater, occasionally glancing back at them from the corner of his eye. “If you didn’t want me here, Jaune, you shouldn’t have invited me.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that!” Jaune waves his hands, rapid, laughing almost awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry, that’s not what I meant. You just, uh…” He trails off and cringes. “Look… very… upset?”

Oscar bites his lip at that. He’s noticed that too— Weiss had been almost cheerful on the walk over, news of the on-going election aside, but once they’d arrived her mood had taken a rather sharp nosedive.

Even now, something furrows at her brow; Weiss glares at the movie board and then squeezes her eyes shut. Oscar regards her with worry. “I’m just—” she says, and then sighs. She brings a hand to her temple, her braid swinging when she shakes her head. “I… don’t have a single clue on what any of these are about.”

Oscar follows her gaze to the movie board, the screens full of new titles and unfamiliar listings. Jaune looks too—and winces. “…Oh.”

“It makes sense,” Oscar offers, drifting back towards their side. He keeps his eyes on the lines, the bright lights of the screen making him dizzy. “I mean, um, we haven’t exactly been… I mean, we haven’t really had time recently, have we?”

Weiss frowns, still looking annoyed; Jaune is quiet for a moment, considering. “You know,” he starts, thoughtful, “I never really thought about it, but you’re right. We’ve been kind of… really busy this past year, huh. Two years.” He pauses. “Ugh.”

The three of them stand in contemplative silence. Weiss breaks first, sighing heavily, and turns around to walk over and sit down on a nearby bench, her annoyance replaced with exhaustion. Behind them, the election, still on-going, flashes the current poll numbers—60 to Robyn,  40 to Jacques. Weiss looks at the screen for a long moment, and doesn’t seem the slightest bit comforted.

“I didn’t even pay attention,” she admits, at last, eyes still on the election counter. “Even when I was home…”

“Always felt like there were more important things to do,” Jaune agrees, voice a little soft. He and Oscar share a brief look. Jaune nods first, silent agreement, and settles down next to Weiss. He watches the election news too, for a moment—lips tight and brow furrowed, eyes dropping down as if he could peer through the city floors and see straight down to Mantle. Oscar drifts beside them, unsure of what to say, hating the looks on their faces. He bites his lip and shuffles on his feet, and goes back to watching the theater.

The silence stretches—and then Jaune huffs and crosses his arms. “Yeah, okay. I have no idea what any of these movies are about either.” He rubs his chin. “Okay. Deciding factor. Oscar?”

“Hm?” Oscar is still watching the lines.

“What movie do you wanna see?”

Oscar shrugs. “What movies do people usually see at a theater?”

“What do you mean, what…” Jaune squints at him. “Oscar.”

“Yeah?”

“What movies have you seen at the theater?”

“Oh,” Oscar says, easily. He tucks his hands under his legs to keep warm and sits down on the bench railing, kicking his feet above the pristine street. Atlas really is far too shiny. It makes something in him ache for the dirt roads and overgrown wildlife of his home. “I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never… what?”

“Been,” Oscar says.

“To the theater?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never seen a movie?”

“No, I’ve seen movies. Just not—”

“At the theater.”

Oscar almost laughs at him. “Yep.”

There’s a long pause. Both Weiss and Jaune are staring. Oscar looks back at them, something like bemused. “I was a farmhand,” he reminds them, honestly befuddled. “Middle of no-where, Mistral? And my Aunt and I, she had some helpers in the busy months but it was really just us, y’know?” Something in him aches at the memory—he hopes she’s doing okay—but Oscar pushes it back as he’s always done, and tilts his head. “The only theater around was two hours away, and it just wasn't worth the Lein, honestly. So, um. Yeah, I have no idea. I only saw movies released for scrolls… and my Aunt liked old-style cinema, anyway.”

“Meaning?”

“Lots of black-and-white Vacuo Westerns.”

Weiss puts her head in her hands. Jaune sighs. “Maybe this was a bad idea…”

Oscar winces. “It was a good idea!” he protests, kicking his feet. Gah, it’s cold. “Um, maybe we can just pick a random one?”

“I guess…” Jaune trails off, scratching at his head and leaning back against the bench. “I dunno. Weiss?”

“I mostly just came to get out of the Academy.”

“Yeah…”

They sit there, the three of them together, watching people mill about. The election booms on behind them, the numbers ticking down and up, constant change. Weiss looks at her hands; Jaune watches the poll numbers, lips pressed.

Oscar’s eyes linger on the theater, on the faces of the movie-goers. The fancy clothes, the unguarded smiles, soft laughter. It’s fancy in a way that makes his palms itch; he feels out of place here, too small and too—he’s not sure what. Rural? The streets are so clean he feels bad for walking there.

The more he sees of it, the less he likes Atlas. Haven had been big, but at least Oscar had felt like he fit there, just one of a thousand others. Even Mantle has felt—not welcoming, maybe, but solid. There is something about Atlas—maybe the troops, or the silver shine, or just the wealth of it all—that makes him feel the exact opposite. Like the city itself is rejecting him. Oscar can’t imagine living here. It feels more like a prop than a city; a shiny toy instead of a community.

He misses the farm suddenly and surely, a solid ache in his chest. He misses his Aunt. He misses—Mistral, maybe. Home. He’d never wanted to be a farmhand forever, but at least there he’d always known he’d belonged. Oscar has his team, now, has RWBY and Qrow and Maria and the others—but he knows the others feel it too. Atlas and the Academy are beautiful… but it is only barely a home.

He thinks it must cut Weiss deepest of all.

And it is Weiss, then, who decides for them. She tilts her head to Atlas’s clear sky, turned pitch dark and starless from the light pollution, and says, almost a sigh: “Let’s just… not.”

The idea of sitting still in a fancy theater, watching a movie he doesn’t care about and doesn’t know, surrounded by strangers… yeah, no. Oscar shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

Jaune groans. “Movie night’s a bust, then. Man, and I’ll bet everyone else is having a great time, too.”

“We can never tell them about this.”

“Agreed.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, and hops to his feet. “I’m gonna buy popcorn,” he decides.

“For what?”

“I dunno. People-watching? I’ve never tried theater popcorn, I just want to know.”

“You’ve never had— !? No, no, no, right, I remember now, stop giving me that look—  I’m sorry!”

Weiss rolls her eyes and pushes up off the wall. “Come on,” she says to Oscar. “I’ll pay. It’s all going to be stupidly expensive, anyway…”

They’re standing in line and buying food when the channel changes back to the election, the final ten minutes ticking off. Oscar glances at the polls—closer than he thought they would be, honestly—and bites his lip when he glances over at Weiss. Her stare at the monitors is grim.

“…You okay?”

She glances down at him. “I’m fine.” But her eyes draw back to the monitors. Jaune places a hand at her back. She gives him a look. He smiles at her, sympathetic. Weiss closes her eyes and sighs—  and leans, just a little, into the touch. “Just… 47%. They must know he’s never going to do any good, don’t they?”

“Polls will close in a few minutes,” Jaune says, and squeezes her shoulder, a one-armed hug. “It’ll be fine.”

“Mm…”

But Weiss does not seem convinced.

They walk back outside, sitting on their bench, and Weiss watches the outside screens the whole time, as if reluctant to look away. Oscar munches on popcorn—dry, salty, and not nearly as good as Jaune told him it was, bleh, who would do that to perfectly good corn?—and puts it to the side, pushing it away slowly with the tip of his finger.

Jaune is still watching Weiss. “Do you wanna head back?”

Weiss shakes her head. “In a bit. Polls close in three minutes, right?” She draws her arms close. “I just…” Together, they watch the numbers tick up. 48%. “I need to be sure.”

Jaune is watching too, now. “You don’t think he’ll really…?”

Oscar watches the numbers tick. 49%. A knot of anxiety has formed in his chest, and he has to force himself to swallow. “Um… what happens if…?”

He can’t finish the question, and none of them can voice an answer. The dread grows. The numbers tick. Weiss closes her eyes, and her breath shudders. “How many more…?”

“…Thirty seconds.”

Her eyes are closed. Her lips twist. The polls shut. The results are read out. Someone in Atlas’s streets stands and cheers. High and hollow laughter in the air.

Oscar stares at the screen for a very long moment.

At long last, Weiss shakes her head, wordless. She lifts her head with a clenched jaw—eyes bright, her teeth grit, pain in her face and fury in the curl of her hands. Beside her, Jaune looks hollowed, eyes on his feet once again, as if to peer through the Atlas streets to Mantle sitting far below. His whole face twists, anger rising—  and then it fades, driven back, resigned. He reaches slowly to his side, and grips the hilt of his sword. “…We should head for Mantle,” he says, subdued.

The Grimm. There is no doubt. Oscar stands too, his heart heavy. For a moment, oddly, he feels strangely distant—not as alone in his head as usual. A grief for Mantle that is more than just his—despair turned two-fold. He reaches out, almost terrified to know.

Oz?

The feeling fades. There is only him. Oscar closes his eyes, lips twisting on a grimace, and unhooks the Long Memory from his back. It’s nothing, probably. Always nothing. He’d just hoped…

But there’s no time for disappointment, or bitterness, or whatever this feeling is. Already he can hear the sirens.

“Somehow I knew it would end up like this,” Weiss says, soft, and lifts her sword. Her expression goes cold, lips thin with determination. The theater, behind them, lies forgotten, flashing lights and laughter like something from a different world— or maybe a dream. “Well. It was nice while it lasted.”

“To Mantle, then,” Jaune says.

“To Mantle,” Oscar echoes, and together they head for the ships.

#rwby #rwby7 spoilers #oscar pine #weiss schnee #jaune arc #ozpin #rwby fic #iza fanfic #please reblog if u liked!!!! #💖💖💖

[babybluebex]

buggy code [bucky barnes x reader]

➽ pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.1k ➽ summary: everyone on the team has nicknames, and you wonder why bucky doesn’t like the one you gave him.   ➽ warnings: mentions of injuries, insecure bucky ➽ a/n: enjoy!​

Everybody had a special name for the Winter Soldier. For mostly everyone, he was Bucky. It fit him; short and curt, the hard K sound in the middle demanding attention. Bucky didn’t quite care for any other name. He had lived his entire life being called Bucky and, even after waking up in a different world than the one he left, he didn’t think a name change was in order. Nobody did. 

And then I came along. The nicknames started as a joke between me and Thor when I couldn’t pronounce his hammer’s name right (in my defense, the name starts with M-J-O and only gets worse from there). Jokingly, one day, I called it Mojo, and Thor laughed. I don’t think that Y/N is a particularly hard name, but Thor found a way to butcher it every single time he spoke to me. The joke bled out from Thor and me and into me and Tony, which then led to the whole team having their own name for me. Wanda called me “ducky”; Steve called me “little one”; Thor used every nickname for Y/N that he could find (which was different every day, but the theme was consistent); and Tony called me “kiddo”. 

However, once the nickname precedent was set, nobody bothered to tell me about the Bucky situation. He was nice, albeit cold at times, and I had only seen him truly angry once. I had called him James. He got quiet and I saw a muscle in his jaw jump as he clenched his teeth, and he said, “Don’t ever call me that again. You hear me? Ever.” He absconded from the room quickly, leaving me and Steve alone, and my heart sank. I felt like an absolute shitbag for upsetting Bucky like that. Steve sat down next to me quietly. Steve was one of those quiet and understanding types, and he cast a glance at the door that Bucky had stormed out of. 

“That was… Odd,” Steve said. 

“You mean you don’t know what that was about?” I asked. 

“No,” Steve said. His brow furrowed, and he mumbled, “No clue.”

“Should I apologize?” I asked. 

“For what?” Steve asked, turning back to me. “You did nothing wrong.” 

“I still upset him, even if I didn’t mean to,” I shrugged. “I… I dunno. I feel like I should.” 

“If you want to,” Steve said. “He’ll probably get mad at you for trying to apologize.”

I scoffed. “What’s new? Bucky’s mad at everyone, all the time. I just… He never snapped at me like that before.” 

“Don’t take it to heart,” Steve told me, and his icy blue eyes helped convince me. 

The door to Bucky’s room was closed like always, but even the energy that came from it made me uneasy. It was quiet-- again, not abnormal-- but it frightened me. I hated saying sorry; according to some, it was one of my major character flaws. I felt sick to my stomach as I knocked on the door. Would he even answer? I felt the burning of tears in my eyes, and I pawed them away with the sleeve of my sweater just in time for the door to swing open. My breath caught in my throat once confronted by the White Wolf, and I could barely stutter out, “I… F-Fuck, I’m so sorry, Bucky.” 

His jaw was tight, his eyes unwavering. I couldn’t stand when he did that. I understand where the whole “no emotion” thing came from, but it was infuriating sometimes. This wasn’t Russia. I wasn’t Hydra. Finally, Bucky took a deep breath, and his demeanor loosened up. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Don’t be… S’not your fault.” 

“I still feel like an asshole,” I mumbled. “I was just joking around--”

“The way you do with Thor and Stark and all of them, I know,” Bucky interjected. “But you didn’t…” He paused to sigh, and he brushed his hair behind his ear. “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.”  

Sweetheart was new. Bucky didn’t play the nickname game like the rest of us did, as evident earlier. He called Steve brother every so often, usually whilst roughhousing after a mission, but sweetheart was something that he had never called me before. He must have seen how I bristled slightly, because he said, “Oh, so Wilson can call you sweetheart just fine, but I can’t?” 

“That’s different,” I replied quickly. 

“How?” Bucky countered instantly. He looked like he was only in his thirties, but he had the arguing skills of someone his own age. Fuck, he annoyed me. “How is Wilson any different from me?” 

“That’s not--” I began. “Wilson always calls me that. You don’t call me… Anything.”

Bucky hummed quietly. “So, you’re telling me that, as long as I don’t call you what Wilson calls you, you’ll tolerate the nicknames?” 

“That’s not what I meant, Bucky,” I said. “I meant that you never, ever had a nickname for me.” 

“Maybe we should change that,” Bucky said, and his lips quirked into a smile. “We have a long night ahead of us. You should go try to get some rest… Baby.” With a cheeky wink and a smile, Bucky closed the door in my face. 

Bastard. 

Bucky was right. The night was long and ended with more of us limping back to the Compound than walking normally. Bucky and Steve took care of each other when they got banged up in a fight, and, as the youngest (really, second youngest to Peter, but he never normally came on smaller missions like this), Steve usually took it upon himself to take care of me too. My shoulder was killing me in a way that it never had before, and I wasn’t sure that it wasn’t dislocated in some fashion. I sat on the couch in the common area, nursing my arm and trying to ignore the pain enough to gauge if I was tired enough to attempt sleep, and I expected the sudden presence behind me to be that of the super soldier. “Hey, big guy,” I chuckled. “Can you check out my shoulder?” 

A cold hand landed on my bare skin, and I jumped in shock. Vibranium was less than fun to experience when unprepared. I had identified a super soldier, yes, but the wrong one. “Looks swollen,” Bucky observed. 

“No shit,” I mumbled. “You scared me; thought you were Steve.” 

“Sorry,” Bucky said easily. “Yeah… I’m no medical expert, but, based on how swollen and red it is, I’d say you fucked your shoulder up pretty good.”

“Gee, really?” I said and rolled my neck to pop it. “Thanks for your input, Dr. Barnes. Can I get a second opinion?” 

“Woah, hostile,” Bucky chuckled. “I’m sure Strange can fix that up for you, baby.” 

I nodded in agreement, choosing to ignore the nickname. If I ignored it, it would go away… Right? Bucky noticed, though, and he said, “What? Not into that name? Okay, I’ll come up with something else.” 

“Or don’t,” I shrugged absentmindedly, and I hissed in a breath as my shoulder exploded with pain. Definitely dislocated. “Fuck.” 

“Oh, jeez,” Bucky mumbled, and he moved around in front of me. He lowered himself to my height where I sat, settling himself on one knee, and his warm hand landed gently on my arm. “I learned about this a long time ago… I think I remember how to put it back into the socket.” 

 “I’m sorry, but fuck that,” I laughed. “I’ll get Strange to do it.” 

“If I mess you up even more, I give you permission to yell at me,” Bucky said. “Let me try. Yeah?” 

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Fine,” I acquiesced. 

Bucky shuffled himself closer to me, putting gentle but firm hands on my upper arm. He sat there for a moment, something happening in his brain, before saying, “C’mere, you.” His hands fell down to my waist, and he carefully tugged me further to the edge of the couch to allow himself closer to me. Something bloomed in my stomach when he grabbed my waist like that, but I pushed it aside. This was neither the time nor place to get horny. He replaced his hands on my arm, and the tip of his tongue poked out of his lips as he carefully maneuvered my arm, testing its mobility. He noticed my winces of my pain, and he finally mumbled, “Alright. On three, I’m gonna tug your arm this way. There’ll be a pop and it’ll hurt, but it should be back in place. Alright?” 

“Yeah,” I said. I felt like I would pass out from the pain. “Hurry it up.” 

Bucky nodded, and his vibranium hand carefully squeezed my thigh. “Grab my hand if you need to,” he said. “Alright… One--” 

He tugged my arm sharply away from my body, and there was a sickening pop. I cried out in a mixture of shock and pain, and then a tepid anger. “You said three, you shitbag!” I groaned. “What happened to two and three?” 

“Must’ve miscounted,” Bucky said, smiling and chuckling. “Feel any better?” 

I rolled my shoulder hesitantly, but found there to be virtually no pain. There was an ache, sure, and maybe a torn muscle, but the joint seemed to be back where it belonged. “Yeah,” I said. “A lot, actually. Thanks.” 

“No sweat,” Bucky said. He smiled and chuckled, then added, “You said my name when you yelled.” 

I tried to recall only seconds earlier, but the moment was a blur. “Did I?” I ask. That was embarrassing. 

Bucky nodded. “You called out ‘James’,” he told me. 

My eyes widened, and my heart jumped into my throat. “Oh, fuck,” I mumbled. “Oh, shit. Bucky, I’m really sorry.”

“No, no,” Bucky said. “It’s fine. Don’t stress. I actually don’t mind it.” 

“Mind what?” I asked. 

“Being called James,” Bucky said. “It’s been a while since I was called anything but Bucky or the Winter Soldier or… James’s nice. Short and sweet and… Nice.” 

“Why did you…” I began, and I pressed my fingers into my palm. “Why did you get so angry when I called you that earlier?” 

Bucky sighed. It was a heavy sigh, the sigh of 90 years worth of emotions threatening to be released. “I… I don’t know,” he said finally. “I really have no idea. I guess because it was different. It was like my old life. You were trying to be nice and funny, and nobody…” He swallowed thickly, and his gaze dropped from mine. “Everybody still sees me as the Winter Soldier. Like, they think I’ll break at any minute, and Bucky will be gone. Nat and Wilson and Steve can tell you all about dealing with him, if you want to know about it. But you don’t see me like that. You see me as someone kind; even before the war, I was never really the kind type. You see me as someone different than what everybody here-- everybody, period-- sees me as. You don’t see me as Bucky or Sergeant Barnes or whoever. You see me as--”

“James.” I whispered. 

“I’m not used to people like you,” Bucky continued. “I… I think I was confused. And I get mad when I’m confused. I’ve always done that. I didn’t--”

“James,” I repeated, firmer and louder. I wasn’t testing the name. I was addressing him. My hand went to his face, resting gently under his jaw, and I tilted his head up to look at me. “Don’t. I understand.” 

Bucky gave me a small smile, the most he could muster when he wasn’t telling a god-awful joke, but he didn’t try to remove my hand. His eyes, as blue as the sky on a clear day, were watching me. Not watching; I had seen him watch someone. There was something more in his gaze that I couldn’t quite identify, and it scared the shit out of me. It was friendly, I could sense that, and I had a suspicion on what it was, but I didn’t want to know for sure. Eventually, I took a deep breath, and I took my hand off of his face. “You should get some sleep,” I told him. “You need it.” 

“Right,” Bucky nodded. “You do too. Come get me if that shoulder starts bothering you; I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Sure,” I agreed. “‘Night, James.” 

There was a silence before the super soldier responded to me. “‘Night, bug.” 

“Bug?” I scoffed. 

Bucky shrugged. “Just trying something out.”

I nodded and kept my place on the couch as Bucky worked himself to his feet, and he left the room quietly. I watched him leave and I pressed my palms into my knees before I started to stand. However, my endeavor was interrupted by Steve hitting his knuckles against the doorframe. He certainly had heard our conversation. His arms were crossed and he was giving me a strange look, and I huffed in frustration. “What do you want, Rogers?”

“Buck had a girlfriend he left behind when we went to war,” Steve began. “Always talked about wanting to marry her when he got back.” 

“And?”

Steve smiled. “She used to call him James. Never Bucky; James. I’m sure that’s why he got mad.” 

“Oh,” I mumbled lowley. “I had no idea.” 

“I didn’t either, until recently,” Steve said. “But guess what? He called her ‘ladybug’. ‘Bug’ for short.” 

As much as I hated to admit it, I needed help. I tossed and turned in bed for hours, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in that didn’t aggravate my shoulder too much, but, just as I was always about to drift to sleep, a spasm of pain woke me up. I had taken painkillers hours before and I was tempted to take more-- the kind that brought sleep this time-- but I remembered what Bucky had told me. Come get him if I needed help. I truly didn’t want to take him up on that offer, but I was sure that he was awake. I probably wouldn’t be bothering him. I hoped not. 

I zipped up my hoodie as I carefully maneuvered through the Compound, trying to move quietly. Years of training under Nat’s tutelage had taught me how to be as silent as a ghost, but I was always worried that I would fuck up somehow. We were safe, though, and I had no reason to be on high alert. Finally, I wound up in front of Bucky’s door, and I saw the door cracked open. Bucky was the sort of guy that valued privacy, and he always had his door closed unless he wasn’t in the room. 

“Oh.” A voice rumbled from behind me, and I turned to see Bucky. His hair was rumpled, his eyes tired and hooded. He wore sweatpants and a thin white shirt, the bulge of his dog tags visible under the collar. I heard the soft whirring of his arm in the silence of the hall, and he added, “There you are. You weren’t in your room.” 

“Were you looking for me?” I asked. 

“I was going to see how your shoulder was,” Bucky explained. “It’s been bothering me all night.”

“Been bothering you?” I repeated and stifled a laugh. “It’s been hell for me. I can’t sleep at all.” 

“You took meds?” Bucky asked, and I nodded. He moved closer to me, and he added, “Drank some water? You might be dehydrated.” 

“I’m fine, James,” I mumbled. “I just figured that you would be up too. My head’s still buzzing from tonight. Even without the shoulder, I don’t think I could sleep.” 

I didn’t even realize that I had called him James. It felt natural now. “Well, I am awake,” Bucky chuckled. “I’m not gonna sleep tonight either. We’re about an hour from sunrise anyway; that’s sorta a foregone thing now, huh?” 

I nodded. Bucky’s eyes canvased me, sticking to my shoulder and arm, and he mumbled, “Your one arm’s limp. Is it just your shoulder or your whole arm now?” 

I looked at my arm, hanging at my side as my other was in my pocket. I could feel the shooting pain every time I moved it, but, when it was still, it was a dull throb of sorts. I relayed this to Bucky, and the wrinkles in his forehead grew deeper as he listened. He wordlessly took my uninjured arm in his warm grip and tugged me into his room. A single lamp was on, the curtains drawn and the bed made impeccably, as if he had never even touched it. I’m sure the tidiness was a result of his military training; Steve and Wilson were the same way. “I read something,” Bucky began. “About skin-to-skin contact. How it helps relieve pain and improve heart and lung function.”

I scoffed as I sat on the corner of his bed. “Yeah, for newborn babies,” I told him. 

Bucky sighed jokingly. “Do you want my help or not, bug?” 

Bug. Ladybug. “I didn’t really come for help,” I said. “Just company.” 

“Just company,” Bucky repeated under his breath as he sat down next to me. “I can do that.” 

“Can you?” I asked with a smirk. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not totally inept, Y/N,” Bucky said. “I can make conversation.”

“I know,” I sighed lightly. “Just teasing you.” 

“You tease me so much that one would think that you don’t actually like me,” Bucky said. 

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I like you,” I said. “Sometimes, I don’t think you like me.” 

“Yeah, don’t take it personal,” Bucky said softly. “I sorta turn a lot of people off. The whole murderous, brainwashed soldier thing tends to do that.” 

“That’s a shame,” I said. “You’re actually a pretty cool person.” 

“Even when I’m killing people?” Bucky asked with a chuckle. 

“Especially then,” I said, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Not too many girls are into that, but I’m in the same business, so I like it.” 

“Into it?” Bucky repeated with a smile. “Like… In what way?” 

“I think it’s cool,” I said. I knew what he was pushing for, and I guess that I was giving off that impression, coming into his room in the early morning for “company”. I had meant it in earnest, but, now that I thought about it, it certainly sounded like I had come to fuck him. “Not the whole… Being tortured, but… I admire that you’ve turned this into something that can help people.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Bucky said. “To help people…” 

I saw his humor deflating. There was more he wanted to say, far more. If I knew Bucky, though, he was fit to clam up, and the conversation was about over. “You are helping people, Buck,” I offered. “Keeping them safe, protecting them…” 

“Protection can only get you so far,” Bucky said, standing up and rolling his neck. “Y/N, when you’re like me, you’re never sure if you’re really helping. People tell me that I am, but I’ll never be certain. It’s a fucking curse, one that I haven’t turned it into anything good.” He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“Well,” I began softly, standing up. I joined Bucky at the window and carefully took his hand, and I examined the metallic knuckles and the different slants of vibranium that made up each finger. I thought he would pull his hand away, tell me to stop, but his hand only whirred quietly and closed around mine. “Let me be the one to tell you that you are helping people. Like tonight, not only did you take down all of those goons, but you helped me.” 

“What help did I do?” Bucky scoffed. 

“I mean, it’s not fully healed, but you made my shoulder better,” I said. “Bucky--” I reached up for his face and pressed my hand to his rough cheek, and I forced his head down. His steel-blue eyes met mine, and I took a deep breath. “You are good. You are a good man and I will do whatever you need me to in order for you to believe that.” 

Bucky was quiet for a few long moments, then he finally whispered, “You don’t need to do anything.” 

“So you believe me?” I asked. 

“I didn’t say that,” Bucky whispered. “You don’t want to help me.” 

“Why not?” I huffed, dropping my hand. “Do you think you’re too far gone?”

“I don’t think it,” Bucky said. “I know it.” 

“James,” I said, my emotions biting through my words. My eyes stung and my throat was tight, and I knew that I was seconds away from crying. “You are not too far gone. You know how I know?” I surged closer to him and put my hand flat on his chest to feel his heartbeat, and I said, “You’re alive. As long as you’re alive, you can get better. Stop being stubborn--”

“I’m stubborn?” Bucky laughed. “You’re so convinced that you can fix me that you won’t take no for an answer.” 

“I don’t want to fix you,” I said quickly. “I want you to know that-- Fuck. Look at me, you prick.” Bucky fixed his eyes on my face, and I put my palms on his cheeks. He couldn’t look away. “James Buchanan Barnes, you are a good man. You help people. You are magnificent. I know it, everyone here knows it, and I will not rest until you see yourself the way I see you.”

The air between us was tense, and Bucky lifted a hand up to his face. He enveloped my small hand with his, his warm fingers carefully brushing mine, almost like he couldn’t believe that someone was holding his face so tenderly. He lowered his eyes, then lifted them back up to meet me, and he dropped his hands. 

With that, his entire body language changed. The wrinkles in his forehead disappeared, his shoulders fell, and he let out a heavy breath. His bottom lip fell open as he looked at me, and I whispered, “Do you feel better?” 

He nodded slowly, a lock of dark hair falling into his eyes. “I like the way you say my name,” he told me. I gently pushed the hair from his face to behind his ear, and he swallowed thickly. “Say it again. Please?” 

“James,” I said softly. “Buchanan. Barnes.” I took a deep breath, and I quietly laughed, “Bucky Barnes. You are the greatest man I’ve ever met.” 

Bucky put his hands on my waist and pulled me flush against my body, and he hugged me tightly. His mouth buried into my shoulder, and he held me for what felt like hours. He needed it. My tears finally fell, and I sniffled as I wrapped my arms around his muscled body in order to squeeze him tightly. “Are you crying?” Bucky whispered, his lips hitting my shoulder as he spoke. 

“I just…” I began. “I love you, James.” 

I didn’t know what to expect when I finally confessed to Bucky what I had tried to deny, but he stayed still. He barely had a reaction, unless you count a sigh as a reaction. Finally, just as I thought my anxiety would burn a hole through my stomach, his hands fell down my body, skating just above my hips and down to the backs of my thighs. With the strength of a thousand men, he pulled me up into him, wrapping my legs around his waist, and he pulled his face out of my shoulder to let me see his pink cheeks and radiant eyes. He said nothing as his lips pressed against mine, and I instantly kissed back. My Bucky, my soldier, my love, my James. The world felt right. 

“I love you too,” Bucky whispered. “Y/N.”

“Did you really…” I started. “Do you call me ‘bug’ because… Because of ladybug?” 

Bucky tilted his head as a soft smile came over his pink lips. “Did Steve tell you that?” He asked. I nodded, and he gave a little laugh that rumbled in his broad chest. He carried me to the bed and set me down carefully, and he laid down next to me. My head easily laid on his chest and his strong arm went around my body, holding me close to him. There wasn’t even an inch of space between us, but I loved it. “Yes and no. I got the idea from that, but it means something different. That girl back then, her name was Dot, so ladybug made sense… But you’re a different kind of bug. You’re a bug in the sense that you’re not supposed to be here.” He carefully tapped his forehead, and he closed his eyes as my finger replaced his. “You’re a bug in my code. I didn’t want to fall in love after everything I’ve done, but… Fuck, you managed to get in there.” 

“Glad I did,” I whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead. “My James.” 

“I’m glad you did too,” Bucky whispered. “My little bug.” 

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel #avengers #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fluff

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Madelaine Petsch//Three Months

Request: Madelaine petsch x reader where Madelaine gets caught up with Vanessa and starts neglecting r and all their fans notice and Madelaine finally realizes it after it had been happening for a while and makes it up to r.

For over a year, you and Madelaine have been dating. A year and three months to be exact. You see each other every day, due to working together. You just recently talked about moving in together because you practically already lived together, you barely spent any time in your own apartment. You’ve even looked at adopting a dog together. You were a constant in each others lives. Wherever one was, the other was. You would be in her vlogs, Instagram stories (as well as basically everyone else’s), you were all over her social media accounts, and she was all over yours. You did literally everything together. 

However for the past few months, she seemed to distance herself. It started slowly, she would miss a few date nights, or she’d bee too busy for you to come over. Which of course you understood. She was a busy woman who had a very demanding job, as did you, but you still always made time for each other before. However, you let it go, deciding that maybe she just wanted a bit of space. However as the days turned into weeks you saw her less and less. 

Anytime you tried to talk to her at work, she would be talking to somebody else, mainly Vanessa. You still hung out after work, but each week it seemed to get less and less. She was always too busy. You hadn’t been in a video of hers for about 2 months, and even though its sounded trivial, it still hurt. It was like she’d replaced you with her best friend, leaving you to wonder what you’d done.

But the worst thing was that everyone seemed to notice, except her. The rest of the cast made an effort to hang out with you more, while also trying to talk to her, but no use. She was to wrapped up in her new friend to notice she was neglecting her girlfriend. 

A part of you wanted to hate Vanessa for taking your girlfriend away from you. But you knew it wasn’t her fault. You were glad she had made a new friend, and it wasn’t Vanessa’s fault Madelaine had been ignoring you. 

Today was your day off. You weren’t needed on set, so you were hanging out at home, moping in your bed. 

Usually you would hang out with Madelaine, even if she was still on set, you’d just go with her. But you needed some time away from that place, and from her for that matter. The more she ignored and neglected you the more your view of her soured. But you were conflicted. You gave her space at the beginning of this whole thing and that seemed to make everything worse. 

As you lay in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, your phone buzzed beside you pulling you from your thoughts. 

madelame is live now! The notification made you sigh but you opened it anyway. A few seconds went by until your girlfriend appeared on screen, beside her was Vanessa, the two of them smiling brightly.

“Hey guys!” She greeted and you couldn’t help the small smile that forced its way on to your lips. That smile could still cheer you up, even if you felt a million miles apart from her and wasn’t intended for you. That thought makes you frown and focus your attention back on the screen. “We have a little bit of spare time in between takes so I thought we could do a Q&A! We’ve already tweeted about it and you have all been asking a lot of questions, so thanks! Anyway, V, do you wanna start?” She asked, turning her attention to her friend. 

“Sure!” She smiled back before looking at her phone. “How’s season 4 going?” She read and the two of them smiled. “Great!! We have some great storylines this season! And all the secondary characters have much more screen time!”

“Yeah!” Madelaine jumped in. “Y/n has been in ever-” She cut herself off with a frown and you sat up, your eyes glued to the screen in front of you. Was she actually noticing? “Anyway.” She shook her head and you sighed, lying back down. The weight on your chest that you’d been feeling for the past three months, just got a whole lot heavier. “What has been your favourite on set story of this season?” Madelaine asked, facing Vanessa. 

“Oooo.” Vanessa thought for a second. “Oh! I’ve got it!” She said suddenly making Madelaine giggle a little. “Can you remember when we were filming the an episode, and it was like 2am. I think practically everybody else had gone home apart from us, KJ and Cole, and while we waited to be called to set we just hung out and talked about life and stuff. And you told me all your future dreams and then you fell off the bench we were sat on.” She explained before the two of them laughed loudly. 

“Yeah!” She giggled. “And KJ walked past us and called us tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, before he tripped over a branch and fell face first into some mud. When he stood up he had leaves and twigs all over his face and he had to go back to make-up.” She continued and you sighed. You remember that night, and not just because Cole had told you. You were there that night. Sitting a few feet away from them, not that they seemed to have noticed. 

You decided that that was enough heartbreak for the night, so with a heavy heart you closed down Instagram and placed your phone on the bedside table, the thoughts of your and Madelaine’s relationship swirling around your head until you fell asleep. 

“Okay!” Madelaine clapped her hands together. “Final questions. Are you and y/n still together?” Madelaine read, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Yeah! Of course we are, what makes you think that?” 

“Loads of people have been asking.” Vanessa interjected. “Its like one of the most asked questions...” 

“What makes people think we’re not together anymore?” She repeated her question. 

“Apparently you’ve forgotten about her.” Vanessa replied, reading the comments from a few Twitter replies. “People are saying that she’s been in none of your videos or social media posts. And people have started picking up on it. Apparently you’ve been too caught up with me to focus on her.” She explained. 

“What?” She whispered. “We’re needed back on set. It was great answering your questions and I’ll try and do another one soon...” She explained, trailing off at the end before ending the video. “Have I really been ignoring her?” 

“I dunno. I don’t think so.” Vanessa shrugged. “Why don’t you go through your Instagram, and your videos. I’m sure she’s in them.” She said, trying to reassure her. Madelaine nodded before going through all her accounts. 

“She hasn’t been in any. Not one for the past three-ish months. Not even in the background.” She sighed. “When was the last time I text her?” She asked herself before checking her phone. “A week ago.” 

“What was it about?” Vanessa asked, looking over her shoulder. 

“What time she was going to be on set the next day.” She sighed and Vanessa placed a hand on her shoulder. 

Madelaine thought for moment, and then it dawned on her. For the past three months she’d been unintentionally ignoring you. She can’t remember the last time you slept at her house, or went out on a date. She barely acknowledged your presence at work, let alone any other time of the day. Three months ago you’d been talking about moving in together, and now she can barely remember the last time you just properly hung out together. “Shit!” She shouted, making Vanessa jump. 

“Its okay.” She squeezed her shoulder. 

“Its not! I’m officially the worst girlfriend in the world. I’ve ignored her, basically replaced her. Jesus Christ, I’m the worst!” 

“You’re no-” 

“I am! And I literally have no excuse for it.” She said while gathering her things. 

“Where are you going? We’re due back on set in fifteen minutes.” 

“Tell them I’m sick.” She replied before throwing her jacket on and running out the door. 

--------

“Y/n!” A heavy pounding on your front door wakes you up from your nap and you have to blink a few times to get your bearings. Its only been two hours since you’ve fallen asleep, but from the sound coming from outside it sounds like the entire worlds gone to hell. 

“Hold on!” You shouted back and stood up, slowly walking towards the door. For a few seconds you forget everything that has happened with you and Madelaine, for a few seconds everything is normal and fine and you have a great girlfriend that loves you more than anything. That is until you open the front door, and all that comes crashing down around you...the sound almost deafening. “Madelaine?” You asked in disbelief. A part of you thinks that you’re still asleep and that this is what your depressed self has come up with to cope with the fact that your girlfriend has abandoned and replaced you. 

“Can I come in?” She asked, tearing you from your thoughts and you look back at her. 

“Yeah, sure.” You shrugged and moved so she could come in. She sends you a small nod before walking passed you, and you watch her look around the living room. 

“Is that new wallpaper?” She asked and you sighed. 

“Yeah. I er-I decorated about two months ago. I did try and talk to you about it...just to see if it was worth it because of-well because we had talked about moving in together. I got a vague answer back so I decided to just do it.” You explained, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Ah.” 

“Yeahhhhhh.” You trailed off. “Do you want tea or something?” 

“No, I’m good. I wanted to talk to you.” 

“Oh, er-okay?” You said before sitting on the sofa. She sat beside you and the two of you looked at the opposite wall, both unsure of what to say. “Listen.” You started and turned to face her. “If you’re gonna break up with me, can you just do it already because I hate feeling like this. Like I’m stuck in some sort of in between until you decide you want to keep me around or not. It sucks, and its not fair on me.” You told her and she felt the wind being knocked from her lungs. 

“Y/n.” She said softly, her hands reaching out for yours. Tears pooled in her eyes as she squeezed your hands. “Do you really think I would break up with you?” 

“Well, I mean...kinda, yeah. We’ve barely spoken in the past three months. I just assume you’ve moved on. But don’t worry.” You forced a smile. “Because there’s no hard feelings. We’re still gonna work together and shit so we can still be friend-” 

“Y/n.” She interrupted you and you looked at her, your hands pulling away from her grip so you could wipe the tears from her face. “I don’t deserve you.” She sobbed and you stared at her. “Look at me, I ignore you for months, I practically replaced you and everyone could see it but me. And then I come over here to make it up to you, even though I don’t deserve you’re forgiveness and I’m the one who starts crying. And then you comfort me. This should be the other way round, or you should be shouting and screaming at me.” 

“Do you want me to shout and scream at you?” You asked and she laughed slightly, which made you smile. 

“No.” She shook her head. “I just-okay. Let me do this again.” She took a deep breath and wiped the rest of her tears away. “Y/n.” She grabbed your hand again. “I am so sorry for ignoring you, replacing you, neglecting you, basically forgetting about your entire existence. I don’t have any excuses, but I guess I just got caught up with making new friends and memories, meaning that I forgot about my best friend who I share all my memories with. I really am sorry and I know I don’t deserve it, but can you please forgive me?” She pleaded and you stared at her. 

All the hurt you’d been feeling for the past few months disappeared. Of course some of it would be there for a while, and she would have to do some groveling, but how could you not forgive her? She was the most perfect woman in the world and everyone makes mistakes. Plus, you had been miserable without her, breaking up would make that so much worse. 

“Okay.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I forgive you.” You said and she sent you a watery, but bright smile. 

“Really?” She asked and you nodded before she pulled you into a very tight hug. “I love you so much.” She mumbled against your neck. “I’ll never do anything like this ever again. I promise.” 

“You better not.” You quirked an eyebrow as you pulled away. She placed her hands on your cheeks before kissing you deeply. She kissed you as if her life depended on it. As if she was trying to show you how much you meant to her. As if she was trying to tell you how much she loved you. And slowly, but surely you started to believe her, even if it would take some time. 

------

One Year Later 

“Is that all of them?” You asked as you placed a cardboard box down on the floor. 

“I think so yeah.” Madelaine replied as she hugged you from behind. Her arms wrapped around your waist while she rested her head on your shoulder. “The bed isn’t gonna be here until tomorrow though so we’re gonna have to make do on either the sofa or the bed.” She said with a sigh and you turned in her ams, a bright smile on your face and a glimmer in your eyes. “What?” 

“I have a much better idea.” You grinned. 

“What?” 

“Blanket fort!” You cheered and she laughed. 

“I love you.” She mumbled. 

“I know you do.” You replied and pressed a kiss to her cheek before wiggling out of her grip. “Come on, we have a ton of boxes to unpack. I can’t believe we own a home together.” You said, still in disbelief that you got to wake up to her everyday and spend all your time with your best friend and most favourite person in the world. Just the two of you and Ella the Bulldog you guys rescued a few months ago. Ella ran in from the backyard just then, like she knew you were thinking about her, and she ran straight into Madelaine’s legs making the two of you laugh. 

“Wait a minute.” Madelaine grabbed your hand and pulled you back to her. 

“Babeeee. We have to unpack.” 

“Not yet. We have a lifetime to unpack boxes, lets just enjoy this moment.” She said and wrapped her arms around your waist again. “Dance with me.” 

“There’s no music.” You raised an eyebrow, but wrapped your arms around her neck anyway. 

“Thats okay. We don’t need music, we’ll make our own.” 

“You’re so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes, despite the smile on your face and she giggled. “But then again, I already knew that.” 

“What do you mean?” She asked as the two of you swayed slightly. 

“Oh you know, just the time you filled my apartment with flowers like two days after we got back together. Like you filled it, I couldn’t move for flowers, and it wasn’t just one kind, it was every single type of flower you could think of, all crammed into my apartment. And then there was all the cute little notes you put around yours and my apartment so I can see them.” 

“Yeah, just because we moved doesn’t mean thats gonna end. There’s gonna be so many more because this is actual house. There’s so much more room!” She said excitedly making you smile. 

“See.” You replied and she rolled her eyes. “And then there’s the cute little dates you take me on, all the appreciation posts you put on Instagram, I think you post a picture of me at least once a week and I honestly don’t know where you’re getting all these pictures of me from.” 

“What? My girl’s pretty and amazing, I need to tell people.” She shrugged and you rolled your eyes again. 

“The video montage of all our sweet moments that you asked your twitter followers to help with?” You asked sarcastically and she looked at the ground. 

“Okay, fine. Maybe I am a bit cheesy...” 

“A bit!” You replied. “The video was half an hour long and you made an entirely new email address for people to send you videos that they may have had of us. You had been planning it for four months.” 

“Fine...a lot. But you love it though.” She shrugged. “Don’t you?” 

“Of course.” You replied and kissed her softly. “I’ll never stop loving you.” 

“And I’ll never stop loving you. Not for three months, three years or 300 years.” She said before kissing you. 

“Good.” You pulled away. “Now, lets go find some blankets! Give Ella her first blanket fort!” You said excitedly before walking into the bedroom, Ella following closely. 

Madelaine blinked, thinking about what you just said as she watched you walk up the stairs. “How do you know she’s never been in a blanket fort?” She called after you. 

“I just do! You can tell when someone’s never been in a blanket fort. And she hasn’t. It makes someone sadder.” You replied. “They have a vibe about them.” 

“...she’s a dog.” 

“And?” You replied, popping your head round the door. 

“I really do love you.” She laughed. “I’ll never stop, no matter what.” 

#madelaine petsch #madelaine petsch x reader #madelaine petsch imagine #madelaine petsch x you #riverdale #riverdale imagine #cheryl blossom #cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blossom x you #cheryl #cheryl imagine #cheryl x reader

[jellicleetcetera]

Cats 2019: A Spectacle of a Trainwreck

I saw cats 2019. And I had a lot of thoughts about it. So I thought I'd write an essay. Because that's what I do when I have a lot of feelings about something. I write about it.

So, I’m going to start this off by saying that I’m actually a huge fan of the original musical. I get the songs stuck in my head constantly. My personal favorite rendition is the 1998 direct-to-video adaptation. When I first saw the trailer, I was terrified. I saw that they were adding a speaking plot, and I immediately knew there were going to be a lot of changes. I was prepared, though, because the original musical would be very hard to sell to general audiences. Hell, Cats is hardly a musical for people that like musicals. Cats us a beast of its own kind. A lot of changes would have to be made if this were going to do well at all in the box office. So, I promised myself that I would go into it with an open mind.

My mom asked me a couple months later if I would go with her to see it. Now, as most of you die-hards would know, seeing Cats with your mother is a very dangerous gamble. Either she’ll understand what’s going on in That Scene, or she won’t. But either way, you’ll be uncomfortable the whole time. I didn’t know if they were going to include the scene or not. I was hoping so because I would love to see the reactions, but also praying that it would be cut because Jesus Christ I’m seeing it with my mother. I agreed, though, because I knew I was contractually obligated to see this damn thing and if my mom took me I wouldn’t have to spend my own money on the ticket. So, the release happens, a few days go by, and then my mom and I walk into an empty theater on the morning of Christmas Eve.

It was certainly a spectacle of a film. Everything was super vibrant and flashy. I absolutely adored the giant sets. I honestly think it’s incredible that they actually built giant sets so the actors would look effectively cat-sized. They looked a little too small, but then again, Jellicle cats are rather small. Also, my sense of cat size is warped because my own cat, Comet, is absolutely massive. But I digress.

Aside from the set design and the flashy palette, though, one thing really bothered me visually. And it will surprise no one. I really, really didn’t like the cats themselves. Design-wise, fine, they’re alright. Their faces are a little creepy but it’s not that bad. Add a little more cheek fluff and you’re good. However, there’s a specific reason I didn’t like that they did CGI fur rather than practical costumes. It cheapened the dancing.

The moment you slap something CGI onto something real, it makes the real thing look like it’s CGI. That’s just unavoidable. During the whole movie, I couldn’t really get over the fact that they looked CGI because it made the dancing look like it was computer-animated rather than real people actually dancing. Which sucks, because when you look past the gross look of their digital fur, the choreography and the dancers were incredible. (Although I do wish it was a bit more… feline. The original musical’s choreography wasn’t as complex or impressive, but it really got the message across that they’re cats, and not just human dancers with cat features.) It’s really a shame. If they had been in practical costumes, they would have looked like much better dancers. Creating practical costumes would have also added a bonus of getting to create interesting, modern reimaginings of the old 80’s fluffy wigs and legwarmers.

Now, on to the story and characters. Some changes I liked, some I was fine with, and some I didn’t like one bit. I think it would be easiest to share all of my thoughts by going down the list of musical numbers and sharing my thoughts on each one, with some digressions to talk about other related things. I don’t think I need to say this, but many spoilers lie ahead. I’m going to mostly assume that you, the reader, have at least a basic knowledge of the original plot and characters of Cats, but I’ll fill in crucial details here and there as needed. Here we go.

When the movie opens, we’re treated to a fresh new story for one of the main chorus cats, Victoria. In this film, she’s an abandoned cat dropped off at the dump in a canvas bag. I immediately knew she’d be our main character. I found the decision to make her a newcomer to be a pretty smart one. Victoria became the audience stand-in, since the movie is assuming you’re going into this having never seen Cats.

Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats was a banger. Can’t deny that. It was fun and upbeat, and the choreography was great. I loved the junkyard set, too. Plus, through the speaking plot, they gave The Naming of Cats a little more justification. Honestly, I think the entire speaking plot was just a huge justification for the songs for people that can’t connect the dots between them. But whatever. Anyways. Macavity also appears in this scene, but I’m going to get to him later.

I wish they kept Victoria’s solo dance… you know, a solo. The dance with Munkustrap was lovely, but I wish Victoria got to keep it. This is due to my own personal bias of that dance being my favorite, though.

Now, The Invitation to the Jellicle Ball brings me to a character that changed a lot. Mr. Mistoffelees. They say, in his song, that he is vague and aloof. There was nothing vague nor aloof about this Mistoffelees. They turned him into a hapless, bumbling fool. Personally, I thought he was kind of cute, but it seemed like an unneeded change. The plot would have been fine without it. I liked his pencil wand, though. I suppose they wanted to make the relationship between Victoria and Misto more sympathetic? Rather than making Misto this cool, distant character that any newcomer kitty cat would fall for, they gotta make him clumsy and dumb so Victoria doesn’t look shallow I guess? I dunno. It’s fine. I’m fine with it. Everything’s fine.

Also that song was fine.

Gumby Cat. Oh, Jennyanydots, what have they done to you? Okay, I’ll say it, I’ve never really found Rebel Wilson to be all that funny. I know, boo me, I’m the worst, I suck, moving on. She was fine in this role, and I’ll admit, some of the gags were pretty silly and fun, but watching Cat Rebel Wilson eat tiny roach people was just… not great. Also, the mice were creepy. *shudders*

Now, I’m going to go into this next song’s review with a disclaimer. The Rum Tum Tugger, in Cats 1998 specifically, is my favorite character. I love him. He’s an 80’s rockstar himbo delight with a smooth, sexy voice and he knows it. God help me. When I heard Jason Derulo would be playing the new Tugger, I found it to be a pretty obvious choice in making Tugger new and hip to the modern crowd. It’s fine, I get it. However, making him, like… Not as smooth? I don’t get why they did that. He’s supposed to be an unflinching badass personification (catification?) of swag and confidence. I didn’t like that change one bit. #NotMyTugger

Grizabella the Glamor Cat was pretty great. I loved Jennifer Hudson killed her role in this movie. 10/10 amazing job. However, this song brings me to another matter entirely. I couldn’t tell who was singing it! Pretty much none of the chorus cats were recognizable to me. I could pick out Jemima and that’s pretty much it! It took someone telling me that they changed Demeter to a russian blue for me to even have a chance of knowing which one she was. Demeter is one of my favorite cats, and we’ll be talking about her again later.

Although I wasn’t expecting it, I really liked Bustopher Jones. I thought that it was fun that they really went for it, making him shown literally digging through the garbage for all of the gourmet food he loves so much. It’s not made very clear in the original musical that this was what it was implying. I’m glad they did this, because otherwise it probably would have flown over everybody’s heads. I miss the “toodle-pip” though.

I loved Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. They chilled it down a lot, which I was fine with, though I did miss their loud cockney accents and eccentric choreography. I also miss the double cartwheel… The movie made up for it, though, with having really fun imagery. This one was definitely my favorite one from the movie. They made them more like sly, seasoned mischief-makers, rather than boisterous bastards. (I do love bastards, though…)

I loved Old Deuteronomy. Judi Dench is wonderful, and that song is always a lovely delight. Not much else to say about it.

Can we get an F in chat for The Pekes and the Pollicles? It shall be missed.

They cut down a significant amount of the ten-minute dance sequence that takes place in the middle of the show. DAMN them for shortening it. Cowards, the lot of you. However, this also means they cut out That Scene. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. To those saying this movie is incredibly horny, I BEG you to go watch Cats 1998. THAT movie is horny. It has The Scene, and also a multitude of ass shots throughout the film.

Also I was fine with them changing Victoria’s dance with Plato. (I think they replaced him with Munkustrap? I don’t quite remember.)

I loved Memory. Jennifer Hudson. *chef’s kiss* Amazing.

Beautiful Ghosts was… fine. It was a lovely song, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t… sound like the rest of the musical. It sounds more modern than the rest of the soundtrack. And they modernized the soundtrack, too, so that’s saying something. It just felt a little out of place for me. Also, I don’t like its placement. Let me explain.

Grizzabella and Gus the Theater Cat are supposed to be comparisons of each other. They’re both old and nearing their final days, wishing for days long past. However, the thing that makes them different is their relationship to the other Jellicle cats. While Grizzabella is cast out and rejected, Gus is loved by the clan and he’s a very strong candidate for being the Jellicle choice. There’s already a song between their two songs, The Moments of Happiness, but that song acts as more of a bridge between the two songs, rather than an interruption like Beautiful Ghosts feels to be.

I liked Gus the Theater Cat. Ian McKellen seemed to like his role, which I liked. He’s amazing at everything he does, too, so his performance was no surprise.

Skimbleshanks: The Railway Cat was fun and upbeat and everything I hoped it would be. 10/10 would tap dance again.

I didn’t like Macavity the Mystery Cat at all. They cut Demeter out of it entirely, removing her implied history with Macavity, and in the process removing her entire relationship with Bombalurina. Instead, they made Bombalurina Macavity’s bitch. She got the song all to herself. And I’ve gotta say it. I don’t like Taylor Swift. That song felt like nails on a chalkboard. I hated every moment of it. Also, I find it hilarious that they kept the lyric, “Macavity’s a ginger cat. He’s very tall and thin.” and he is very obviously none of those things in this movie.

I didn’t like a lot of things about Macavity, too. I liked Macavity he got more of a presence than in the stage musical, but some things were kind of… lame I guess. Some of the scenes on Growltiger’s boat (I thought they would do Growltiger’s last stand but I was wrong!) were slow and boring. Even their little “action” scene. They also removed the Macavity fight scene, where he tries to kidnap Demeter. Very cringe of them. ANOTHER thing that is very cringe fail terrible was what they did to Grizzabella. They stripped her of her original backstory and just made her Macavity’s ex. FORGET that. Horrible. Hate it. Stop making everything about Macavity.

Back to Mistoffelees and his own song. Although I didn’t like that they removed Tugger’s role in Mr. Mistoffelees, I understood why. They turned him into a main character, so of course he had to sing his own song. However, they kept the lyric, “His manner is vague and aloof,” (well, “My manner is vague and aloof.”) which I find very silly of them. Yet another lyric that directly contradicts what the movie is providing. Also, I didn’t like the lack of dancing in this scene! Mistoffelees is one of my favorite dancers in the original productions. Specifically the big, impressive toe touches. Cowards.

I wish they let Jemima keep her solo. I know why they gave her solo to Victoria, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Congrats, Webber, you got to cut your ex-wife’s part out of the musical. *claps*

I liked the reprise of Memory and the subsequent journey to the Heaviside layer. I loved the chandelier balloon, too. It was all very emotionally impactful. My mom literally cried next to me during Memory’s reprise. Amazing job.

I never really liked The Ad-dressing of Cats in the musical because it feels unnecessary after such an emotional, perfect ending note with the journey to the Heaviside layer, but this version was kind of fun, I guess. Old Deuts looking directly into the camera was a little off-putting, though.

Overall, I thought this movie was fine. Will I watch it again? I don’t know, maybe. If someone put it in front of me, I would probably watch it, but I’m probably not going to go seeking it out when Cats 1998 is right there. It was fun, and it was definitely a spectacle. But was it Cats? Mmmmmm… It sure does look like Cats, but it doesn’t really feel like Cats. Do I think it’s a good movie for someone that isn’t already a fan of the musical? I don’t know, maybe? I’m seeing that most people hate it, which is a shame. If anything, I hope this movie compels people to seek out other productions of this musical. It really is a fun romp of a musical that I think people might like if they give it a try. I mean, it was Broadway’s longest running show in its time for a reason.

Do I recommend this movie? Sure. Go see it if you want. I’m not about to give this movie a score out of ten, because I find those kinds of rating arbitrary. But sure, go see Cats. Maybe it’ll lead you toward the superior version. Cats 1998.

#cats the musical #cats musical #cats 2019 #cats 1998 #jellicle cats #cats review #long post

[writingsofawonderer]

Rivalry — Part 4

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Strong language

Materlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

After ensuring that the girls were okay and out of immediate danger, the boys turned back to the man that was starting to get back to his feet. Calum’s fists clenched again, and he wondered if the rage he felt in that moment was obvious to everyone around him.

Before he could start swinging again, a gentle hand touched his bicep. “Calum, don’t… please.”

“He needs to be taught a lesson.” He didn’t move, but noticed that they had an audience, and he kept talking, his tone becoming harsher as he attempted to keep their cover. “I’m not going to let some douche put his hands on you, even if you’re Jennings’ sister.”

As if finally sensing the severity of the situation, a few guys started pushing their way through the crowd. He recognized two of them as Michael and Ashton.

One of the other guys’ eyes widened, and Calum wasn’t sure if that was because he recognized the back of his buddy’s head or if his expression was really that intimidating. When he hesitated to step up to the man Calum’s attention was on, he figured it was himself.

Ashton and Michael, on the other hand, had no such qualms. They seemed a little confused, but one look between the guys and the girls told them enough that they instantly seemed ready for a fight to break out.

“I think it may be time for you to leave, mate.” Ashton said, in a stern voice.

Olivia’s attacker regarded her again. A new look, possibly repulsion, crossed his face. “Whatever. This fucking prude skank isn’t worth it anyway.”

Olivia’s grip on Calum tightened before he’d finished speaking. He could guess what she was thinking. If he reacted the way he had when Oliver had been talking about her, people would probably be able to put two and two together.

Calum felt every muscle in his body tense as he watched him walk away, but he willed himself to stay where he was.

They watched him leave and got the party going again before Calum relaxed and turned his attention to Olivia. He wanted more than anything to wrap his arms around her, but he knew that there were probably still people watching them, so he kept his distance. They stood in an awkward silence for about a minute before Olivia spoke. “Can we maybe talk? In private?”

Calum was pretty sure that he audibly swallowed at that. He’d been waiting to hear back from her for a whole week, and honestly had no clue what’s she’d decided to do about his confession. Noticing her still watching him, Calum quickly nodded.

He saw Olivia cast her eyes to the ceiling, indicating that she wanted to talk in his room, before disappearing up the staircase. Calm knew that he would have to wait a few minutes to prevent suspicion, so he turned to where Luke was consoling Cara.

Both Ashton and Michael seemed concerned and a little confused, but a shocked expression was taking over Michael’s face. “No fucking way.”

“What?” Ashton and Luke asked in unison, instantly on guard again.

“Calum’s screwing Olivia Jennings."

Calum felt his heart leap into his throat. “What? No, I-”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Don’t. I saw the way you looked at her just now. There’s no way it’s not her. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I- Mikey, you know why.” He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “The same reason I shouldn’t be seeing her at all. The same reason she’s probably going to dump me as soon as I get upstairs.”

“No!” Cara exclaimed. All four men were surprised by her complete change in attitude, but her attention was on Calum. “You can’t think like that.”

“Babe, do you know something?” Luke asked, giving his girlfriend a knowing look.

She pursed her lips. “Liv’s been pretty secretive about all of this. She only just told me on the way over here. But you guys saw her a second ago. Why would she dress that hot to dump you? She’s not mean enough to do that.”

Luke eyed her suspiciously. Calum guessed that there was more she wasn’t telling them, but what he’d heard was enough. He looked longingly at the staircase and took a deep, steeling breath before going up to his bedroom.

He stopped at the door, knocking lightly before going in. He realized afterward that that was probably stupid of him; it was his room, he didn’t need to knock.

Sheepishly, he entered and saw Olivia standing in the middle of the room. He figured she’d been pacing. He’d noticed that she did that sometimes when she was nervous.

“What took you so long?” She asked, rushing past him to close and lock the door.

“I, uh… sorry.” He took her hand and turned his attention to the handprint on her arm, rage filling him again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Some of the wrinkles between her eyebrows faded. She smiled slightly at his concern. “Yeah, Cal. I’m fine.”

There was another awkward silence between them. Neither was really sure how to start the conversation. Finally, Calum couldn’t take it anymore. “So… Did you make a decision?”

“Yeah” Olivia nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “I took your advice and stopped thinking about Oliver, and if I’m being honest… I’ve missed you.”

“Does that mean-”

“If you really think we can do this,” she gestured between them, “without Oliver finding out, and you still want to give it a try, then I do, too. I like you, Calum.”

All of his anger and concern from earlier were replaced with relief and, what he could only describe as, giddiness. He smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips. A soft giggle of surprise escaped her and got caught between them, and was promptly forgotten about when he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

She slowly pulled away and glanced at the bed behind him. “I kind of had this plan to come up here and tell you yes and seduce you, but it’s been a long night. Would it be okay if you just held me?”

He nodded and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “One condition; if we fall asleep, I want you to be here when I wake up.”

“Deal.”

He let her pull him over to his bed. Before climbing in, she turned and focused her attention on slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. She pushed it off of his shoulders and tugged at his undershirt. Her hands moving across his body normally would’ve been driving him crazy, but the gentle way that she was doing it that night made a different warmth bloom where she touched.

Instead of the fiery desire that he was used to feeling around Olivia, her fingers left behind something that reminded him of candlelight. That night, he felt warm and comfortable and experienced a new kind of intimacy. He still felt a need for her, but it wasn’t sexual. He needed her company, not her body.

After she had finished undressing him, he took the same time and care to undress her. Then, they crawled into his bed together. Calum waited for Olivia to get comfortable before curling himself around her and snaking his right arm over her waist, and his left under her head.

It didn’t take long until he felt himself falling asleep. Olivia’s gentle breathing told him that she’d fallen asleep only minutes after they snuggled up.

❁❁❁❁

He wasn’t sure how long they slept. Certainly not until morning. It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two before banging on his door woke him. He rubbed his eyes and pulled away from Olivia, who groaned. “What time is it?”

“Dunno.” His voice was raspy.

He found his boxers, still on the floor, and pulled open the door. He squinted at the sudden light from the hall. After a moment to process, he saw Cara standing in front of him, looking almost surprised to see him. After they each recovered, Cara glanced around him at Olivia. “Get dressed. Hurry.”

“What? Cara, no, I’m just gonna stay the-”

“No. Oliver’s here. Looking for you.”

Calum’s blood ran cold. The very thing that had almost kept her from him was happening. While Calum was practically a statue, Olivia was on her feet in seconds. She didn’t seem to mind that Cara was there, not that she was looking. Cara had come in and shut the door, and moved straight to the window to peek out. “Luke stopped him at the door. I don’t know if he got in or not, though.”

Olivia pushed some hair out of her face so that she could see her friend. “What’s he doing here in the first place?”

“I don’t know, but he can’t find you in Calum’s room.”

“Can’t you hide?” Calum asked. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted her to stay. He had been so close to finding out what it was like to wake up to the sunlight streaming through his window and onto her sleeping face. He imagined that she looked beautiful first thing in the morning.

Olivia shook her head before pulling on her dress. “Ollie’s going to tear this place apart until he finds me. Easier to just go down now and confront him about being so controlling.”

Cara pursed her lips. “I’ll see you down there. Good luck.”

They watched Cara leave and Olivia sighed. She pressed a firm kiss to Calum’s lips. “Probably best if you stay up here. I’ll see you at the game on Sunday, yeah?”

“Call me when you get home.”

She disappeared down the stairs. Calum waited for as long as he could, but he didn’t feel right having her down there, probably getting yelled at, without him. He finished getting dressed and tried not to run to where he could hear yelling. When he made it to the top of the stairs, he saw the twins having what looked like a staring contest.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Oliver said finally.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m a grown woman, Oliver. I can come to a party if I want to.”

“Not Hood’s party.”

“Oi,” Calum heard his voice before he realized that he was speaking. “I’ve got no problem with her. You’re the one who shouldn’t be here.”

“We’re leaving.” Oliver glared in his direction, but wasn’t done with Olivia. “C’mon, Liv.”

“You’re being crazy, you know. How’d you even know I was here?”

“There was a video.” Oliver said. “Of Hood about to beat some guy up for you.”

“And you felt the need to come rescue me because?”

Oliver turned his sneer back to me. “I don’t trust him. You shouldn’t be around him.”

“He’s a better guy than you are.” Calum wished Michael didn’t feel the need to jump in every time Oliver was around.

“Olivia. Let’s go.”

“If she doesn’t want to leave with you, I’m not going to let you force her to.” Calum said, coming down the rest of the steps so that he could stand beside Olivia.

“Why do you even care?” Oliver’s face started turning red. “Are you trying to screw her? There’s no way she would ever stoop that low. Besides, don’t you already have some bitch sucking your cock?”

“I’m not interested in your sister, mate. She obviously doesn’t want you telling her what to do, so fuck off, yeah?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Oliver said, clenching his jaw and fists.

“Whatever. Let’s just go.” She rolled her eyes, and walked past them to the door.

Calum took Oliver’s not killing him on sight as a good sign, but the idea of him interrogating her during the car ride to her apartment was nearly as nerve wracking as finding out that he was there in the first place.

The party winded down pretty quickly after that. Calum knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until Olivia called him, so he decided to start cleaning instead. As he waited, he kept imagining how their conversation would go.

“I’m so sorry. I told Oliver. He’s on his way back to your house.”

Or, “I knew it was too risky. We can’t date. Oliver will find out.”

Or even less likely, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

❁❁❁❁

Taglist

@gosh-im-short

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #cal fic #cal fanfic #5sos fanfic #5sos #five seconds of summer #five seconds of summer fanfic #rival!cal #FOOTBALLER!CALUM #footballer!cal

[zacharyleigh316]

what if...

“Don’t you sometimes wish our lives were different? Like, we were destined for some greater purpose?” Dean looked over at his little brother in disbelief.

Sam was staring up at the sky, as if the stars would give him an answer to his question, as if he hadn’t asked Dean but instead sent it out to universe. Maybe he had; maybe it was even a little bit of both.

His long hair had fallen back from the up-tilt of his head, and the reflected light from above cast shadows across his face. Yet, Sam looked peaceful despite the heavy weight of his sudden revelation, bathed in cool glow from the moon.

Dean didn’t reply right away, and looked away from his brother, searching for his own answer among the stars. He thought back to dreams and nightmares alike that brought along vague images of hellfire, and demon dogs, black eyed creatures, and feathered freaks, black feathers in particular, and some old, dirty trench coat and the word blue. Images of two brothers, killing monsters and saving people, and making a makeshift family to replace the one they never had. Images of a life lived on the road, but sometimes a motel room, a bunker. It meant nothing, but something, and everything all at once.

Dean didn’t know what to do with the information. He never did. After all, what could you make of memories that weren’t yours but you’ve experienced as if they were?

He took a swig of his beer instead, and grimaced, the flavor suddenly a hard pill to swallow. The impala’s hood creaked as they shifted, and Sam’s gaze finally shifted to him, his brother’s hazel eyes burning a hole into the side of his face. He let out a sigh, and met his gaze.

“I don’t know Sammy, what do you want me to say? That sure, I wish I was some hero and knew that what I did for a living really made a difference? That yeah, life sucks and we don’t get paid, but at least we saved lives? I don’t know if I want that.”

“Can you really tell me you’re happy? Like, not just content, but truly happy?”

Dean snorted. “Of course not Sam, but that’s the way things are.

“I’m comfortable.” He continued with a shrug. “You got your job, you got Jess. You got a nice home.”

“Yeah but that’s me. What about you?”

“What about me? I got you, and Baby, and that’s all I need.”

It was Sam’s turn to snort then, and none of the brothers said anything for some time. The silence was oppressive, words that wanted to be said buried deep in their graves because they never would.

“Look, you can forget I said anything.” Sam said after a while, staring back up into the cosmos. “But when the end of the day comes, I can’t help but think this isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing. That something isn’t right. Sure I’m happy. But I’m also...unfulfilled.”

Sam’s mouth met the lip of his own bottle, and he took a long, contemplative sip. Dean glanced over to his brother, brows furrowed and frowning.

Because in whatever universe, or dimension, whatever time period, century, or generation, the Winchester brothers would always be hunters. Even if Mary didn’t die, and John was a better father, even if they didn’t move through districts, and schools, and motels, even if the apocalypse wasn’t started, even if Dean never went to Hell, even if God didn’t favor them enough to resurrect them time and time again, even if they didn’t lose all their family and friends, even if John never bought the impala, and never gave it to Dean, even if Sam didn’t have demon blood coursing through his veins, even if Dean never had the mark and even if he never became a demon, even if they never killed Death himself, even if they never met Crowley, or Rowena, or Cas, or Chuck, even if they never met Kevin, or Charlie, or Eileen, even if they didn’t fight Lucifer, or Eve, or Lilith, Metatron, or the Darkness. Even if, because that’s just how the world worked.

Fate was a cold hearted bitch, and one of those Dean’s in one of those particular universes could have even told you so, because they’ve met before.

They couldn’t put a name to the feeling, however, and neither brother could truly deny it was there.

“There’s stories I want to tell, but can’t, and there’s places I think I’ve been, but I haven’t, and there’s instincts I act upon and wonder why.” Sam is just rambling now, but Dean is afraid because he gets it, he really does.

He’s still tongue tied and possibly even more confused.

“I can hear you sometimes, you know? At night. You’re dreaming, of course, but it all sounds so real. The first time it happened I got so scared, thought someone was in the house. I went looking for a gun that wasn’t there. I don’t think I even own a gun.” Sam shook his head and smiled wistfully.

“You can deny it all you want Dean, but you’re my brother and I know you better than anyone. You know what I’m talking about, and I’m telling you right now that I feel the same.”

“Yeah, well there’s nothing we can do about it.” He snapped in reply, finishing the last dregs of his beer.

Dean never liked the feeling of being stripped bare, of becoming vulnerable. It was wholeheartedly, one hundred percent himself; it was one of the things that never changed.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe there isn’t anything we can do.” Sam was looking at him again, a stare that reminded him all too much of a certain angel of the lord, one who gave up everything and fell for the Winchesters, who put his faith in Dean and haunted his dreams.

“Why am I sensing a but here?”

“But can’t we at least try?” His brother finished, his stare turning expectant.

Dean sighed and rubbed his palms down his denim clad thighs. How would they ever attempt that? So far everything up to this point had been only glimpses of what either could be, had been, will be, or is in another place. Just not here, where it mattered.

“I dunno Sammy, this whole thing is a bit friggin weird if you ask me. I mean, where would we start?”

“I don’t know either Dean. But we’ve got to start somewhere right? And who knows what we’ll find or what will even come of it, but isn’t that the point? Don’t you want to say you at least tried?” At his older brother’s shrug, Sam continued.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to regret never acting on this impulse. Living a life unfulfilled, thinking what if? What if I listened to those visions, and what if I let myself feel these feelings.”

Dean nodded, and after a moment jumped off the hood of the impala. He turned to Sam and nodded again.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah, alright. Let’s do it.”

And just like that, Dean and Sam Winchester have chosen each other. And just like that, Dean and Sam Winchester have chosen the something more. Just as it was destined to be.

But even if it isn’t the same exact story, even if it isn’t the same exact written narrative, a new Winchester Gospel is born.

All the best stories need a few rewrites—and a few different versions—to mutate into its final metamorphosis, after all.

Read on Ao3 (Link)

This isn’t written for anything in particular I was just suddenly inspired by Zachariah’s comment that Sam and Dean would always choose to be hunters, even without the memories of each other or hunting, and went a little further by making them a Sam and Dean of a different universe, to support that theory. I wanted to propose a what if... if you will. So in other words, felt deep and wanted to write something deeper. And it definitely does get pretty meta at the end lol

#my own work #what if... #please do not steal #supernatural fic #supernatural one shot #supernatural #supernatural fandom #dean winchester #sam winchester #alternate universe #parallel universe #destiel #implied jessica moore/sam winchester #mentioned other characters

[falneou17]

BanG Dream! Favorite List

So... people have been requesting I made this for quite some time now, and I decided that I might as well. It might be a nice thing to look back on the past three years and see how I have formed and changed my opinion on the various characters.

The main reason why I held back with it for so long, aside from wanting to avoid giving off the wrong idea with who my least fave is, is because I was playing on the JP server while conversing with people who were only playing on EN. I stopped playing JP about a year ago now (the last event I remember playing on the JP server was Babyglow, actually), so the EN server has more or less caught up to what I remembered from the JP side of the franchise; which means that there is still a decent chance that my preferences might change from this point onwards. Not to mention that the third season will air next month, too.

I want to do these regularly-ish, but with how “fixed” the rankings have been ever since RAS’ introduction I wonder how often that can be done.

Icons are taken from the bandorisorter tumblr.

Favorites

1. Yamabuki Saaya Same old song and dance, she has been my favorite BanG Dream! girl since day one. She radiates an aura similar to Saten Ruiko from the Raildex franchise (who also happens to be my all-time favorite character), and this, coupled with her supportive, sacrificial, helpful nature really helped Saaya in solidifying a spot in the #1 spot. The only way I can feasibly see her drop from this spot is if she doesn’t receive any character growth and development because she has been, admittedly, rather static in this department.

2. Aoba Moca A name people still think is my fave of the franchise, she might really become it soon depending on how much Saaya grows in the future. A “simple” character at face value, I really started finding out just how deep her character is when I started getting more into her design and learned more about her. She is overall a really fun character to work with and nothing says that more than the fact that she has been the centerpiece of all my multi-chapter fanfics for this fandom at the time of writing this.

3. Mitake Ran Ran goes almost hand-in-hand with Moca, but where Moca had the element of surprise and curiosity to keep her high on the list, Ran felt like this mixture of two characters of a different franchise I really enjoyed, combining both their strong points into who we now know is Mitake Ran. And I am sure you all already know how much I like Ran considering the BlueFlora works I have done since April of 2017.

4. Hazawa Tsugumi Tsugumi is probably the easiest character, at least among the Afterglow girls, for people outside the BanG Dream! fandom to relate to, and for good reason. She’s a hard worker, remains positive, and you know things will go south when Tsugumi isn’t being optimistic and charging forward like no tomorrow.

5. Imai Lisa Lisa shares a lot of similarities with Saaya, or at least how I described Saaya. Nevertheless, there are still a handful of factors that would explain the gap between them. The first is that I saw Saaya on the screen first, so Lisa was doomed to become “similar to Saaya” as a result (the way the first season animated both girls didn’t really help). The second is the way Lisa is shipped by the general fandom that makes me feel a lot more restricted in using her freely. The final point is not Lisa’s fault, but while Nakashima Yuki has done an amazing job at taking over the role... she is not Endō Yurika.

Loves

6. Uehara Himari I make fun of Himari a lot, but she is still an amazing character and a great gear in the Afterglow machine. And while I personally feel like the English translation of Himari’s catchphrase is not doing it justice, I am very much aware of how important Himari is to the chemistry of Afterglow. She is the leader of Afterglow, after all.

7. Shirokane Rinko What started out as just a playful headcanon has really gotten traction and popularity amongst my readers and helped Rinko rise up to this spot, managing to even beat out the fifth member of Afterglow in the process. Although very different from the characters I usually wrote for, Rinko manages to be this breath of fresh air to allow for a different pace than what I usually work with. The only reason that is holding Rinko back is not even her own fault: Akesaka Satomi made Rinko into the character that I’ve come to know and love; she was Rinko, so losing her was and always will be a big blow to me. Shizaki Kanon is doing her best, and I respect her as a seiyuu in her own right, but... she’s never going to replace Akesaka Satomi as Rinko in my eyes.

8. Udagawa Tomoe Tomoe is a weird one. On the one hand, she’s very fun, energetic, and is tunnel-visioned enough to be fairly predictable in a fun way. On the other hand, she is the most static character in her band and one of the most static of the entire franchise, so... she’s still really high up thanks to the Afterglow bias in me, but who knows for how long that can last?

9. Maruyama Aya I really am unable to talk about Aya without bringing up her seiyuu, Maeshima Ami, because the phrase “the seiyuu is the character” rings very true when it comes to this one. And she is a very fun character, too! I am not really good with stumbly fumbly characters, but watching Aya on the screen has never been a bad thing. It also helps that her singing voice matches Misawa Sachika’s so much, reminding me of Misawa Sachika’s Polaris mini-album and even convincing me for a short period that Misawa Sachika was Aya’s seiyuu.

10. Okusawa Misaki/Michelle I am not really breaking the mold here, having Misaki be my favorite Hello, Happy World! character, so I don’t think I need to add much to it. In a nutshell, Misaki is to Moca as Lisa is to Saaya. But instead of being put in a band I like overall, Misaki was put in what is arguably my least fave band of the franchise (mostly because the style of music does not fit me, personally, and I like the other five bands more)... which really limits how much Misaki can rise in my list.

11. Wakamiya Eve I only have one thing to say about her: BUSHIDO. In all seriousness, Eve is adorable and her fascination with Japan can really act as a parallel to how some fans adore the culture. In short, much like the vocalist of her band, there is never a dull moment when Eve is around.

12. Asahi Rokka Rokka is a really fun addition to the cast through the second season that aired earlier this year. And what is really interesting about her is that, while the other four RAS girls have been a hit or a miss in the fandom, Rokka seems to be almost universally liked. She is just an adorable bundle of cute, what’s more to say about her?

Likes

13. Tamade “CHU2″ Chiyu So remember how I said in Rokka’s entry that RAS’ characters tend to be a hit or a miss? Well, CHU2 is, in my experience, the most polarizing of the RAS girls; people either love her or hate her. I personally really like her, because while she may appear as a brat at first there is obviously a lot more going on beneath the surface. And I enjoy watching those characters develop, so here’s to hoping that season 3 is nice to CHU2.

14. Nyubara “PAREO” Reona Now unlike CHU2, I can’t really pinpoint what it is exactly about PAREO that makes me like her. But I do, she is enjoyable, her dedication to RAS and CHU2, while bordering something else entirely, is still... quite admirable to see, in its unique way.

15. Ichigaya Arisa Arisa is a weird one. I enjoy watching the subtle actions she does in the background to show that she cares for and supports her friends, but at the same time... she’s competing with Himari for the title of “who can be the butt of all jokes”... which is a bit of a shame, but oh well. Another thing that is kind of holding her back is the fact that one of her defining qualities, being a tsun, is... not the most unique personality trait in the anime world, to put it lightly.

16. Tsurumaki Kokoro Kokoro is... an interesting case. I think I mentioned earlier that I am not really good with eccentric characters, and Kokoro is exactly that with a capital E, but on the other hand... the few times when we do get to see through that bubble of energy we get treated to a surprisingly deep character. It also helps to share birthdays with me, I suppose.

17. Hikawa Sayo Another really weird one to place, and one that will probably define the rest of the list. Sayo, by far, has received the absolute most character growth of any of the other girls. That is normally a good thing, but in Sayo’s case it kind of acts like a double-edged sword; while she grew to be a better person and a better sister, above all else, she... lost things that really defined who she was in my eyes. And because of that, I don’t quite know where to place her... I do enjoy her and still like her, but... I dunno...

18. Hanazono Tae Tae has always been a fan favorite ever since she first appeared in the anime, but... she faces a problem I have mentioned before: she’s pretty static. She’s still fun and the fact that I am kind of looking forward to the way her seiyuu continues to grow will probably keep Tae up, but not too high.

19. Udagawa Ako All right, so Ako being here should already tell its own story, but... generally speaking, when a character is “created” with its whole purpose being to surpass another specific character, they will never come close to that character on my list simply because I end up thinking of Ako relative to Tomoe (in Ako’s case). Ako is fun to see and her chuunibyou side makes for some cute interactions, but aside from that... with the fall of Rosela came the fall of its members...

20. Satou “MASKING” Masuki At this point in time, we don’t really know that much about her. She had like... what? Five lines in the entirety of season two? From what I have seen of her so far, however... she catches my interest, but depending on how well her character and backstory are handled she can rise or fall accordingly.

21. Minato Yukina So remember the whole “fall of Roselia” I mentioned? It is not really their fault, losing Endou Yurika and Akesaka Satomi was a big blow, but the effects it had on both the characters and their respective seiyuus are still... there. Yukina in particular also suffers from the whole notion that she is introduced as this super professional singer with more talent than she knows what to do with, but... in part due to the seiyuu shift of Lisa and Rinko, Roselia’s songs have taken a hit in how much I enjoy them (to emphasize this point: I haven’t really enjoyed a new Roselia original song ever since Akesaka Satomi left Roselia). The only two things keeping Yukina in this “tier” is that she is still somewhat interesting to work with and her rivalry with Ran can provide... quite the amusement.

Above Neutral

22. Shirasagi Chisato Once we’re in this tier, it... really is a bit of a blur as to who is placed where relative to each other. I can say that Chisato is probably at the upper end of it by the process of tiebreakers: BanG Dream! Livestream and events involving their seiyuus. Uesaka Sumire is always fun to watch on the screen and has made me warm up to Chisato in the process.

23. Matsubara Kanon Pretty much exact same reasoning as above, with Kanon being slightly lower simply because I tend to like serious characters more than those that fumble around. I will say, though, that the few times when we get to see a confident and determined Kanon on the screen, it was a lot of fun to see.

24. Hikawa Hina So remember my point with Ako about characters who are focused on their relationship and interactions with one specific character? Hina serves as this unreachable goal for Sayo to reach, and with a lot of the scenes that are being shown use Sayo’s perspective to do so... Hina’s innate genius is also somewhat of a double-edged sword for her ranking here, because while scenes involving Hina are anything but dull, I... prefer characters who work hard to get where they are above someone who is “born” with the ability to stand out.

25. Wakana “LAYER” Rei I feel kind of bad putting LAYER all the way down here, but as a character, she is rather... static and uninspiring, at least at this point in time. As a vocalist, however, LAYER is probably my second favorite in terms of the singing voice, so I am hoping that the third season can catapult LAYER up a couple places.

Neutral

26. Toyama Kasumi The “face” of BanG Dream!, so to say. I will say that, for a typical happy-go-lucky energetic female lead, Kasumi has a lot more depth to her than others. Unfortunately, being the character we see the world through, I’ve never managed to really relate to her. So while she is almost in the next tier, she barely misses it.

27. Yamato Maya Maya is, actually, a really interesting character with a lot of room to grow and become her own person. Unfortunately for Maya, she did not catch my eye early enough so by the time I got used to characters like Moca and Ran running around, Maya... kind of faded into the background.

28. Ushigome Rimi I don’t know how to say this without being too mean to Rimi, but... Rimi has been really static. Rimi interactions and scenes, more often than not, either consist of her love for Choco Cornets and/or her relationship with her older sister. A lot of potential, a lot of possibilities, but none that have really been taken advantage of...

29. Kitazawa Hagumi Hagumi suffers a really horrible fate, and I think that she would have been a lot higher on the list if she wasn’t in Hello, Happy World. Hagumi’s character and personality traits overlap with Kokoro’s a lot, and with Kokoro being the vocalist of the band Hagumi has really been living in her shadow... which isn’t doing her a lot of favors.

So, that’s my list. Oh, I missed somebody? Right right, let’s fix that~

Unsalvageable/Very Bottom

30. Seta Kaoru Where do I begin to properly explain how I feel about this character? For starters, Bang Dream is a gacha game where we grind up resources, save for weeks, sometimes even months, for that one card we want (unless we’re spending money on the game i.e. whaling). So what do you think will happen to the character who keeps dropping in a banner she is not even a rate-up in while you really wanted a limited card you have saved eight months for? Or if she keeps arriving as the guaranteed 3* in like 80% of all your pulls for over a year? For reference, I managed to get the skill level of her Phantom Thief 3* to level 5 by using duplicate copies of her Initial 3*. And vice versa.

The gacha side of my reasonings aside, the actual reason why she is and always will be at the bottom is for a reason that cannot be removed without changing who she is. Her over-the-top, flirtatious attitude really, there is no going around this, annoys me, and even if it is just a front... I’ve already associated at least three people I know irl to her, and since I despise those three for how they behave irl... I can never see myself saying that Kaoru is not my least favorite of the franchise.

The only way for Kaoru to no longer be at the bottom is for BanG Dream! to introduce a character I despise more. Which, to be fair, is a possibility with Argonavis, but not only am I just not interested enough to properly invest time in checking them out, they are also in an alternate universe or something if I remember correctly... so comparing the girls to the boys in Argonavis is like comparing... Railgun characters to Index characters, in a way, which isn’t really “fair”. I probably will if I decide to check out Argonavis, but don’t be surprised to see this one at the bottom still.

#BanG Dream! Fave List #Falneou17