#i am shooting in the dark with these memes and see what sticks
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the reason why scratch in aw2 is so different from scratch in awan is because zane snatched all of the personality and there just wasn't enough left to go around for others
#alan wake 2#alan wake american nightmare#meme#mr scratch#tom zane#btw i have never played any alan wake games ever#i am shooting in the dark with these memes and see what sticks#this is my way of figuring out the plot#considering what i've heard of the plot so far this is as good of a method as any
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you're the pink in my cheeks (i'm a little bit soft)
summary: "and i know we'll never grow old together / cause you'll never grow old to me / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft"
- "monster," marceline (adventure time)
(OR: 5.4k of soft domestic lesbian!analogical, featuring lesbian!moceit, trans male!remus, trans female!roman, and Gay Shenanigans)
a/n: huge thank you to dandie for beta'ing this fic!
i just wanted to write wlw is that so wrong of me? no. no it is not.
CW: alcohol mentions, a few sex jokes, swearing, one implied instance of potential sexual activity (although it doesn't go any farther than making out; if you want to skip that part, skip the section that starts with "Did you get the right kind of popcorn?")
word count: ~5.4k
read it on ao3!!
“I think I may be going insane,” Logan says, squinting at her laptop screen. Virginia, hanging upside-down in the armchair, looks up from her phone and blinks.
“And why is that?”
“Because I am starting to agree with Rosie’s anti-Florida agenda.”
“I didn’t realize that there was an anti-Florida agenda.”
“Rosie has one, and I have always thought it facetious. However, if this laboratory does not start sending me my requested samples and information in a timely manner, I will be forced to concede that Rosie may have . . . a point.”
“You, agreeing with a lit major? I never thought I’d see the day,” Virginia teases. Logan initially resists the urge to stick her tongue out or flip Virginia off, because that would be childish, but then she remembers that Virginia does not care about her childishness, so she sticks her tongue out. Virginia snorts with laughter, and Logan feels warm, fizzy pop-rocks bursting in her chest.
Her phone buzzes next to her, and she picks it up. There’s a new message blinking for her attention on the screen.
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
a, b, or c
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
. . . What?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
*rolls eyes*
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
i need you to make a selection, logan. a, b, or c.
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
I am confused. What am I selecting between?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Yes. I would like to know. That is why I asked you.
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Also, I am not a meteorologist. Or a boy.
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
it’s a meme, i’m sure v will be happy to show you the og. but first: make a choice
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Option B, I suppose?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
vodka it is!
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Wait, what?
Her phone buzzes again, another text thread lighting up, and Logan abandons the now-fruitless conversation with Jan to see that her wife has texted.
[from: soda poppy]
y is jan fillin a thermos with vodka and sayin u gave her the go ahead? >:(
[to: soda poppy]
I am unsure. She texted me asking me to make a choice between “a, b, and c” with no context given. When I eventually selected “b,” she excitedly mentioned vodka and logged off.
[from: soda poppy]
her an remy r going 2 a pta meeting tonight an i guess they’re goin drunk
[to: soda poppy]
Is that a . . . normal occurrence?
[from: soda poppy]
sadly yeah
[to: soda poppy]
Wait, is she even allowed to attend PTA meetings? You two don’t have any children?
[from: soda poppy]
she’s on the school board so she has the right 2 attend. idk if she’s supposed to or not but its never stopped her b4
“Everythin’ good over there?” Virginia asks.
“I believe I may have just enabled Jan to attend a PTA meeting drunk.” Virginia snorts, swiping at her phone.
“Good for her, honestly. The only reason she and Poppy live in that neighborhood is so that Jan can flaunt her wife in front of all the capital-s Straight people, because she’s a petty fuckin’ bitch.”
“That is a strange word choice for your best friend.”
“I hate Jan, she’s a bitch,” Virginia says, smirking fondly at her phone. Logan knows her girlfriend well enough to know that this statement is disingenuous, so she stands up, stretching her arms above her head, and leans down to drop a kiss onto Virginia’s forehead.
*~*~*~*~*
Logan blinks awake slowly, feeling for the position of her limbs. She’s on her left side, left arm tucked up under her pillow to cradle her head, wrapped in the thick comforter of their bed. Her right arm is slung across Virginia’s body, and her girlfriend is pressed up against her, head tucked right under Logan’s chin and face nestled into her neck and chest. Virginia breathes, slow and deep and even, and Logan hums, huffing out a soft exhale.
She carefully wiggles out of bed, tucking the comforter around Virginia’s curled-up form. Virginia grumbles when the cool morning air slips against her skin, because she is a foolish woman who insists upon sleeping in short shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top no matter the current weather patterns. Logan wraps her up, making sure that she’s shifted into the middle of the warm divot of body heat, and Virginia settles in, asleep again in a heartbeat.
Logan turns to the corner chair, where her early-morning outfit is already laid out: athletic leggings, a sports bra, a moisture-wicking quarter zip jacket. She changes quietly, lights off, and tugs on a pair of ankle socks before slinking into the bathroom. Once the door is shut, she flicks on the soft lights over the vanity and carefully undoes her sleep braid. Normally, Virginia does Logan’s hair, because Logan is not good at dealing with her wavy, tangled, curly mess, but she won’t wake up her girlfriend for that. She can, at bare minimum, pull her hair up into a high ponytail for running purposes.
They live in a small town only a short walk (and even shorter bike ride) from the beach, full of little two-story brightly-colored beach cottages. Logan steps off her front porch, pulls out her phone, and quickly shoots a text.
[to: ginny <3]
I am headed to the beach for my weekly run. I will likely return before you wake up, but in case I do not: I will be back before 9 AM.
[to: ginny <3]
I love you <3
Logan kicks up the kickstand on her bike, runs her fingers over the glossy dark-blue paint flecked with white and silver and gold to mimic stars, and swings one leg over the bike seat. She carefully pedals out into the narrow road and heads for the beach. The cool early-morning air whips past her face, and she chances a glance up at the dark-blue-turning-light-blue-grey sky and smiles.
She’s always been an early-morning morning person, anyway.
*~*~*~*~*
Logan’s sneakers dig into the hard-packed wet sand along the water’s edge as she runs. Seagulls scatter in front of her, and the podcast Virginia recommended hums in her ear. The sun creeps up, up, up onto the horizon, coloring the blue-grey into streaks of brilliant pink and orange and gold, light reflecting off the water in resplendent diamond sparkles.
Logan runs half a mile down the beach, turns around, runs back to where she started and then runs half a mile in the other direction before turning around and running back to her starting point. By the time she’s bent over, hands on her knees, huffing out breath while her legs burn pleasantly, the sun has emerged fully from the ocean, and Logan is beginning to wish she had worn a visor.
She takes a moment to appreciate the sensory experiences of being on a nearly-abandoned beach: the scent of salt water, the sound of waves crashing against sand, the errant cries of gulls squabbling over fish. Their little beach is not nearly pristine enough for a tourist attraction, and too far north along the Atlantic coast to be warm year-round. Still, Logan loves it, and cannot imagine living anywhere else.
She hunts along the water’s edge as she walks, briefly, a cool-down before the bike ride home. She finds a few things worth photographing, a few crabs to shoo back into the ocean, and a few things worth gathering: an intact clam shell whose smooth curve runs unbroken from the heel of her palm to the tip of her index finger when she lays it flat in her hand, a light gray rock worn smooth by the waves that turns dark-gray-almost-black when wet, a small spiral shell that she thinks may have broken off of the top of a snail shell. Logan wraps all three things carefully in a small handkerchief from the little bag she keeps in her bike basket, pulling out her phone to note the time (8:37 AM) and the message notification flashing at her.
[from: ginny<3]
dunno why you insist on being a morning person. stop by the dunkin on your way back and get us breakfast?
[to: ginny<3]
You had Dunkin for breakfast three times this week. You should consume something healthy.
[from: ginny <3]
>:( >:( >:( >:(
[from: ginny <3]
counterpoint: you bringing me dunkin is better than me not eating breakfast at all. which is the alternative because i do not want to get up and prepare anything
[to: ginny <3]
Your womanly wiles will not work on me in regards to Dunkin breakfast.
[from: ginny <3]
bitch (affectionate)
[to: ginny <3]
Would you like me to make you breakfast on my return, beloved?
[from: ginny <3]
. . .
[from: ginny <3]
will you make me an omelette? with all the cheesy goo an shit?
[to: ginny <3]
I will make you an omelette with some degree of “cheese goo.”
Logan slides her phone into her pocket, huffing out a laugh at her girlfriend’s behavior, and hops onto her bike again.
*~*~*~*~*
“Your omelettes are always so much better than mine,” Virginia says, moaning as she sinks her teeth into an enormous bite of egg and cheese. Logan, calmly dicing bell peppers to mix into her own omelette, smiles.
“All food tastes better when it is prepared by someone who is not you.”
“You’ve clearly never had anything the twins have cooked.” Virginia takes another bite, pops a multivitamin into her mouth, and chases it down with a gulp of milk. “Besides, it tastes better because you made it.”
“I am not the most accomplished chef in the world, certainly, but I am glad you enjoy my cooking.”
Virginia laughs softly. “Lo, I like your food because it’s prepared by someone who loves me. I can taste the love in everything you make for me.”
Logan turns back to her peppers to hide her blush. “Love is not a measurable ingredient when cooking.” Virginia laughs again, louder this time; when Logan sets the knife down, she hears Virginia’s chair scrape out behind her as she stands, feels her arms wrap around her waist, feels the cool skin of her face press into her neck.
“Love you.”
*~*~*~*~*
“Stressful day at work?” Logan asks, hearing the door slam.
Virginia kicks off her flats, sending them flying into the wall with a clatter. Logan sets down her crochet project and moves toward the entrance of their house, where Virginia is shrugging off her rainjacket to reveal a mint-green Peter Pan-collared blouse and dark gray dress pants. “The stressiest.”
Logan takes the jacket and shakes it out on the tiled entranceway before hanging it on the hook. “I am sorry, beloved.”
“Lots of assessments, lots of parents who don’t understand why I’m assessing their kid, lots of parents insisting that there’s nothing wrong with their kid, or that there’s no way their kid could possibly have the deficits that I’m seeing. Like, I wouldn’t make this shit up, you know? Literally, let me help your child. You came to me, remember? I’m not in the habit of imposing myself onto people.”
“That sounds very stressful,” Logan says. She tries to picture a life where she spends all her time interacting with people she doesn’t know on a regular basis instead of her little corner of the university biochemistry lab where she only has to interact with three or four known people and her immediate supervisor, mostly by email. It sends icy fingers skittering down her spine.
“It is, I hate it. I mean, Kitty’s my supervisor until I get my C’s, so if I have problems I can consult with her, but like . . . why are people the way that they are.”
Logan stretches up and presses a gentle kiss to Virginia’s cheek. “I love you, Ginny.”
Virginia exhales and folds herself around Logan, draping her body over her girlfriend and going limp and boneless. “I don’t wanna be a real person for the rest of the night.”
“That can be arranged.”
“But it’s my night to make dinner.”
“I do not mind switching and having you make dinner tomorrow,” Logan says. “This is an acceptable deviation from the routine.” Virginia pushes her face into Logan’s neck, and Logan nuzzles the side of her head, and she sighs like the entire world has lifted off her chest.
*~*~*~*~*
(This is how it starts:
Logan, taking a class on British literature in her sophomore year because she needs to meet her core requirements. Logan, meeting Rosie, disagreeing with her on almost every single point she raises in class, hating when they’re paired up for their midterm project but earning the best grade in the class overall. Logan, seeing a text from Rosie about how her housemate needs people to participate in a research study for extra credit. Logan, making the long trek down to the health sciences building and seeing Virginia for the first time, thinking that she’s pretty and not knowing that she’ll be thinking that for the rest of her life.)
*~*~*~*~*
“Hello, gorgeous,” Virginia hums.
“Are you talking to me or to the mint plant?” Logan says, aggressively stabbing her pointer finger against the Delete key. It clacks loudly, and she mutters an insult under her breath. “I am going to set myself on fire. I swear to god, I am.”
“Obviously the mint plant,” Virginia says, turning and dropping a kiss on Logan’s head. “You okay, honey?” Logan grumbles more and shoves the laptop away from her with a disgruntled noise. Virginia moves the laptop away and leans over to kiss her forehead.
“I am trying to politely word an email whose essence boils down to, ‘If you do not send me my fucking samples in a timely manner, I am going to be forced to commit an Atrocity the likes of which this earth has never seen’,” Logan says.
Virginia laughs so hard that she sits down on the tiled kitchen floor, wiping tears from her eyes. “You are so funny,” she wheezes. Logan feels her irritation fade a little under the brightness of her girlfriend’s joy. “Let me see the email, I’m good at professional bullshitting.”
*~*~*~*~*
“Braid my hair!” Rosie says, throwing herself down onto the couch. Logan lifts her laptop up just in time to keep Rosie’s head from slamming into the keyboard.
“Ginny is your best bet for braids, Rosie. I have limited experience.”
“It doesn’t have to be fancy, It just has to be off my neck.”
Logan saves her document and sets her laptop on the coffee table, poking at Rosie’s ribs until she slides onto the floor and settles cross-legged between Logan’s thighs. “A comb and some hair-ties would be appreciated.”
“REMUS!” Rosie shouts.
“WHAT?”
“BRING ME A BRUSH AND SOME HAIR BANDS!”
“GET YOUR OWN!”
“I’m going to kill that man,” Rosie mutters, rolling to her feet. There are suspicious muffled thumping noises from the other room for a few minutes before Rosie emerges, victorious, hair somehow even messier than it was in the first place.
“You are the single loudest person I have ever met,” Logan sighs, taking the comb and the hair ties and beginning to drag it through Rosie’s curls. Rosie winces, just a little, at the pull of the comb, and Logan tries to be more gentle.
“Thank you!”
“I did not say that was a compliment.
“Hey!”
*~*~*~*~*
Logan tugs her sweatshirt sleeves down from where she’d rolled them up previously, shivering a little. Part of her wishes that she had worn leggings instead of capris as she drags the folding chair a little closer to the bonfire, toes dragging through the still-sun-warmed sand. The speaker set up on the food table blasts some sort of current pop music, and Rosie and Poppy dance around each other, chanting the lyrics at each other. They are both very loud and very off-key and, Logan suspects, fairly drunk as well. Remus is in the ocean (definitely buzzed, potentially naked) and Jan is standing at the edge of the ocean, watching to make sure he stays alive.
“Hey,” someone says, low and rumbling in her ear. Logan does not flinch (just barely) and turns to see Virginia, holding a plastic cup with a poorly-drawn sketch of the state of Virginia on it. Her hair is starting to come loose from its messy bun, and her sweater sleeves keep sliding down over her wrists and nearly dunking into her drink, and her breath smells sweet and alcoholic. When she lifts her hand to Logan’s cheek, her fingers are cool, and Logan shivers.
“How’s my girl?” Virginia asks.
“Cold,” Logan answers honestly. Virginia laughs, tipping her head back and exposing the long strip of her neck. Logan wants to lick it.
“You’re adorable,” Virginia says, leaning in and pressing her mouth against Logan’s ear. Her breath is warm and slightly damp. “So pretty, my Logan, and so smart. I bet you know exactly what chemical compounds are making the flames turn that color, hmmm?”
Logan can feel her face burning hotter than the bonfire, but Virginia just sits languidly in her lap, feet propped up on the armrest. Her toes are painted pale purple, and the glitter sparkles in the firelight.
“How many drinks have you had?” Logan asks.
“Enough to feel all tingly,” Virginia says, swirling whatever’s in her cup. “How many have you had?”
“None,” Logan answers honestly. Virginia leans her head against Logan’s shoulder, and her wispy frizz tickled Logan’s nose. She sneezes, and Virginia giggles in the high-pitched, superficial way she only giggles when she gets really, really drunk.
“You sound so cute when you sneeze.”
“I do not.”
“Of course you do,” and now Virginia is looking at her, eyes glowing warm in the firelight. “You sound cute when you do anything. You’re cute when you exist. You’re cute no matter what. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
Logan hates the taste of alcohol, but she leans in and kisses Virginia anyway.
*~*~*~*~*
“Lo.”
“Hmmm?”
“Pick a color.”
“What?”
“I’m painting my toes again. Pick a color for me.”
Logan flops over onto her stomach, staring at the neat row of creme polishes sitting on their ottoman. Virginia’s bare feet are propped up in front of them, spread apart awkwardly with neon lemon gel toe spreaders, and she studies the nail polish like she’s trying to determine which vial isn’t poisoned.
“I like that one,” she says finally, pointing to a pale pink polish the color of the flowers Virginia brought her on their first date. Virginia hums, picking the bottle up and tilting it critically in the light.
“Not the one I would have picked, but I said you could pick, so I guess we’re doing it.”
Virginia tosses some bottles of toppers (or “tacos” as she calls them, slang from one of the YouTubers she likes) onto the bed while she paints her toes, and Logan sifts through them to settle on a blue-yellow iridescent one.
“I do not know how you can get behind wearing something called a Unicorn Skin,” Logan says. Virginia just shrugs and plucks the bottle from her hand. Their fingers overlap - Logan’s warm from where they’ve been tucked under her body, Virginia’s cool from where they’ve been gripping the glass bottle. Impulsively, Logan lifts Virginia’s fingers and kisses the tips.
“You’re going to smear the polish,” Virginia mutters, even though she painted her fingers earlier today and they’ve been dry for a while. She doesn’t bother to yank her fingers away, either, so Logan kisses them again.
*~*~*~*~*
“Logan!”
Logan is fully aware that the only thing keeping Poppy from crashing into her like a floral-sundress-covered cannonball is the casserole dish in her hands. She counts her blessings and steps aside to let Poppy in.
“Where’s Jan?”
“Getting something from the car! It’s my turn to drive us home, so she brought something to drink.”
Jan primly kicks the passenger side door shut with her heeled ankle boots, a bottle of wine grasped by the neck in each hand.
“I hope you do not intend to drink both of those in their entirety tonight,” Logan says. Jan rolls her eyes and offers one of the bottles to her.
“This one is a gift for you and Ginia. The other one is for me.”
“None for Poppy?”
“Poppy is the designated driver, so she will not be drinking. And I know she already told you that.” Logan rolls her eyes, and Jan flips her off. “Are you going to invite me in or not?”
“What are you, a vampire?” Virginia shouts from the kitchen.
“Only one of us dresses like the undead, darling, and it isn’t me,” Jan calls back, stepping into the house. “Are the twins here yet?”
“They cannot attend. Remus has orchestra practice and Rosie is teaching a dance class. You already knew both of these facts, because you are in the group text.”
“I am not.”
“You responded to a message in the group thread fifteen minutes ago.”
“That was the NSA agent assigned to monitor me.”
“You are a liar.”
“What else is new?”
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
soda poppy: hey every1! DONUT 4get to make ur bakesale goodies and drop them off at r house by 7 am on fri!
lo tide: Please use normal words. I am begging you.
snesbian (snake lesbian): then beg.
lo tide: I do not recall asking for your opinion.
snesbian (snake lesbian): and yet i give it to you anyway. am i not generous
virgin: if you don’t stop making fun of my gf i swear to god
virgin: also remus if you don’t stop changing my name i’m gonna end you
virgin has changed their name to gin(ny) and tonic!
gin(ny) and tonic: much better anyway
violets are blue rosie is me: i believe you meant anygay
gin(ny) and tonic: i said what i fucking said
ace attorney irl: you changed your name :(
gin(ny) and tonic: every day the Lord regrets giving all of us mod powers in this chat
snesbian (snake lesbian): i have no such regrets
lo tide: Can we circle back to the bake sale, please?
soda poppy: Whatchu wanna kno???
lo tide: I assume it is school related?
soda poppy: yep!
soda poppy: fundraising 4 this year’s art club field trip! since im the faculty advisor im in charge of approving and setting up 4 the fundraisers
lo tide: I see. And why, exactly, is it our responsibility to make things for this fundraiser? Should it not be the students’ responsibility?
soda poppy: they r makin stuff 4 it but also i gotta make sure some of the stuff will b edible yknow
lo tide: I see.
gin(ny) and tonic: listen i know that jan is like. a professional pastry chef an shit. but i’m not making anything fancy like a cheesecake or smthn
gin(ny) and tonic: i’m making like. fuckin brownies
snesbian (snake lesbian): smh don’t you care about the Children at all?
gin(ny) and tonic: no. they’re not my kids
ace attorney irl: i will make cookies
soda poppy: u cannot make them inappropriate shapes
ace attorney irl: :(
violets are blue rosie is me: do not worry, i will make sure they are an appropriate shape
violets are blue rosie is me: i’ll make cupcakes!
lo tide: I believe I have a recipe for lemon squares that I can make. Will lemon squares be sufficient?
soda poppy: yeah! just keep ur stuff free of common allergens like tree nuts
gin(ny) and tonic: so my plan to just yeet you a bag of reese’s peanut butter cups and call it a contribution is out then
*~*~*~*~*
Virginia throws a box of brownie mix into the cart and dusts her hands off. “There. Done.”
Logan raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t give me that look, we have the rest of the ingredients at home. We have tap water, we have oil, we have eggs, we don’t need anything else. What do we need for your lemon thingies?”
“Lemons, presumably.”
“You’re a comedian,” Logan deadpans. Virginia flips her off, and then leans in to kiss her cheek. “I do need lemons, though. Lemons, more eggs . . . I have a list in my phone.”
“What phone?” Virginia says, dangling Logan’s galaxy-patterned case above her head. “I think you’re too short for this, Lo.”
“Give me my phone,” Logan says, rolling her eyes. Virginia wiggles it above her head, laughing.
“Maybe you should give me something in return.”
“Like what?”
Virginia grins. “Like a kiss, perhaps?”
Logan rolls her eyes again, but she leans in and kisses Virginia gently, swiping her phone back when Virginia lowers her hand to cup her face. “Thank you for paying the toll, sweetheart.”
“You are ridiculous,” Logan says. It doesn’t stop her from gently kissing Virginia’s cheek before pushing the cart down the aisle again.
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
lo tide: What time did you want us to drop off the baked goods, Poppy?
soda poppy: if ur gonna b in the area, u can just drop them off at my house!
ace attorney irl: i made some of the shapes inappropriate but those ones r 4 u and jan
soda poppy: what did u make 4 the bake sale?
ace attorney irl: . . .
soda poppy: what did u make 4 the children, remus.
ace attorney irl: nothin’ too crazy! jan had some normal summer shapes - suns, flip flops, etc. etc. used those
soda poppy: :D thx remus!
ace attorney irl: made some fishies too! but the octopi are just for u an jan.
ace attorney irl: i . . . may have painted dicks on them
soda poppy: well at least u warned me right
*~*~*~*~*
“Did you get the right kind of popcorn?” Logan asks.
“If by ‘the right kind’ you mean ‘your favorite kind,’ then yes, I did,” Virginia says, coming into the living room with a large yellow bowl full of fluffy popcorn. “What are we watching tonight? It’s your turn to pick, isn’t it?”
“Gay fish,” Logan says.
Virginia sets the popcorn on the coffee table and blinks at her. “That is . . . quite the description of Finding Nemo, sweetheart.”
“Not Finding Nemo, Ginny. Luca. It’s new, and it’s not explicitly gay, but there is a very obvious queer reading. I thought we could watch it together.”
“Anything with you sounds wonderful.”
“Sap,” Logan mutters. She leans in to kiss Virginia’s cheek, but Virginia turns at the last moment and presses their lips together.
“Are you sure you want to watch a movie?” she says. “We could just make out instead, if you want.” She pushes gently on Logan’s stomach, guiding her to lay on her back on the couch. Virginia lays on top of her, gently sliding a hand to rest warm and heavy on her stomach. She leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s neck, and then her jaw, and then rubbing their noses together.
“Tonight is movie night,” Logan says. Virginia presses their mouths together, and Logan hums, gently pressing up into the kiss. “We should be watching a movie.”
“Are you sure?” Virginia says. “I think we should pursue this avenue a little further.”
Logan squirms a little. “I - I would not - um - no, thank you.”
Virginia’s eyes, which were hazing over with something, clear as she blinks. “Okay, sweetheart.” She leans back, sits up, pulls Logan into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” she says. “I just - I am not in the mood for that tonight. If that is okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” Virginia says. She holds out a hand, and Logan takes it. Virginia kisses the back of it before settling herself on the couch. “I am so proud of you for expressing a boundary and telling me you were uncomfortable. I know that expressing boundaries is something that we’re both working on, and you did a wonderful job. Tell me what you want, Lo. Please?”
“I would like a kiss,” Logan says. “Just one. And then I would like to cuddle, and - and I would like us to watch Luca together. Is that acceptable?”
Virgil nods. “Of course, love. Come here, hmmm?” Logan settles next to her, and Virginia gently cups her cheek and presses their mouths together. “I love you, Logan. So much. Of course we can watch Luca now.”
Virginia lays an arm along the top of the couch, allowing Logan to cuddle up against her and rest her head on her chest. “I love you,” Logan says softly.
“I love you too, sweetpea.”
*~*~*~*~*
Logan rolls over, yawning, and feels a small weight displace itself from her thighs. She blinks awake slowly, lifting her head and pushing her curtain of curls aside to reveal a black cat mewing at her grumpily before settling into a sushi roll beside her.
“Did I wake you? I am sorry, Galileo . . .”
Galileo settles against her, purring softly, while the ash-grey cat at the foot of the bed pads slowly up to curl on Virginia’s back. “That’s your favorite spot, isn’t it, Andromeda?” The cat emits a soft “mrrrp” before settling back down to sleep. Logan yawns, smiles, and gently strokes her hears. “What should we do, girls? Shall we stay awake and be productive members of society?”
Neither cat responds, and Logan looks at Virginia. She’s haloed in the morning light, eyes tightly shut, mouth hanging open, drool leaking into a puddle on the pillow. She snores a little - one, two, three snorts before settling back into a deep sleep.
“No,” Logan decides, “we shall not.” She lays back down, gently nudging Galileo a few inches over so that she can snuggle up to Virginia. Galileo stretches out, pressing a paw directly into Logan’s cheek. Logan shoves her, and she resettles onto Logan’s feet with an indignant noise.
“You can sleep by my face when you do not kick my face,” Logan mutters, curling into her love.
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
soda poppy: r u all comin 2 the bake sale 2morrow?!
lo tide: I was under the impression that we were only providing the baked goods. Is it not for the students at the school?
soda poppy: we got waaaayyyy more stuff than we thought so we r havin a 2nd bakesale 2morrow 4 parents an stuff!
soda poppy: we r gonna need sum help with setup though . . .
lo tide: Poppy, please do not even -
soda poppy: 🥺🥺🥺 p l e a s e
lo tide: Poppy.
snesbian (snake lesbian): logan
lo tide: If I agree to stop and pick up coffee for everyone, will that motivate you all to turn out?
violets are blue rosie is me: i’m always a slut for free coffee
lo tide: I’m sorry, where did I say that this would be free?
violets are blue rosie is me: D:<
ace attorney irl: eh i’m down for it. where you swingin’ by?
soda poppy: there’s a panera p close 2 where the bake sale is!!! it’s gonna b at the morning girl’s basketball game
lo tide: Does anyone have any issues with Panera coffee?
violets are blue rosie is me: nah. large iced coffee, add three ounces of half and half, two pumps of sugar syrup, two pumps of vanilla, and caramel drizzle.
ace attorney irl: complicated bitch much?
violets are blue rosie is me: why must the cain instinct betray me like this
ace attorney irl: the cain instinct started when we stole each other’s genders in the womb
violets are blue rosie is me: this is true this is true but you’re still a bitch
ace attorney irl: large hazelnut coffee, two sugars, please
snesbian (snake lesbian): large dark roast, black
soda poppy: medium decaf coffee, two ounces of almond milk, and two pumps of sugar syrup!
gin(ny) and tonic: large caramel latte
lo tide: You . . . are going to ride in the car with me to pick up the coffee, we can order our own coffees. I do not need your order, love.
lo tide: But I appreciate the information <3 <3
*~*~*~*~*
“We come bearing gifts,” Virginia announces loudly. “And by gifts, I mean we bought a baker’s dozen of cinnamon crunch bagels for everybody.”
“Well, there are twelve cinnamon crunch bagels and one plain bagel, bagged separately, for me,” Logan corrects, expertly balancing two coffee trays with a bagel container. “Also, we made more brownies.”
Poppy looks up from where she’s instructing two high-schoolers on how to hang a sign properly and grins, waving brightly. Jan is leaning on the table, hand on her head, sipping at a water bottle.
“Vodka or whiskey?” Logan asks dryly, handing over Jan’s black coffee. Jan blinks at her, flips her off, and drains a long swig from her cup.
“Water. Partied a little too hard with Remy last night, and now I’m hungover as shit.”
“We suspected as much, which is why we brought you an extra coffee.”
“Lifesaver,” Jan says, knocking back another long drag of coffee before taking a sip of her water bottle. (Logan suspects the bottle is actually Poppy’s, due to the sun-shiney stickers plastered all over it.) “You and Poppy both. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll gut you like a fish."
“No, you won’t,” Logan says, turning to hand Rosie and Remus their respective drinks. “You never do.”
Jan flips her off, but Virginia comes up behind her and leans her forehead against her shoulder. Logan turns, kissing her forehead, and smiles.
Life is good today, she thinks. Life is good.
(screen names!
virgin -> gin(ny) and tonic; ginny <3 = virginia (virgil)
lo tide = logan
snesbian (snake lesbian) = jan (janus)
soda poppy = poppy (patton)
ace attorney irl = remus
violets are blue rosie is me = rosie (roman) (thanks to @rosesisupposes for letting me borrow your screen name for this!)
#starshinewrites#fem!analogical au#analogical#moceit#trans creativitwins#ftm!trans remus#mtf!trans roman#it's just soft domestic lesbian analogical fluff#that's it that's the fic
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Number 19 of the winter prompts with rare pairs of your choice both as the mistletoe misfits and their “victims” thank you!
So this is... yeah. Better late than never and all that I suppose.
5+1 - Five times Iwaizumi & Tsukishima got other people under the mistletoe and one time they were caught under it
ONE
Hajime freezes when he hears the distinct sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat behind him. Unfortunately freezing makes him go a little bit wobbly — he feels it reflects more on the condition of the step stool he found in the supply closet than it does himself thank you for asking — and he barely manages to stick the pushpin into the ceiling before he half steps half topples off the stool and slowly turns around. Tsukishima is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, wearing an unimpressed look on his face and a sweater that reminds Hajime a little bit of the kind of ridiculous things that Oikawa always manages to find around the holidays.
“I’m the mature, responsible one,” Hajime says before Tsukishima can even open his mouth. “No one will believe you if you try to rat me out.”
“Sawamura would,” Tsukishima counters. “He trusts me.”
“He’s too busy trying to keep Tanaka from convincing Hinata to dye his hair purple to really pay attention right now.”
Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. “Gee. I wonder who put that idea in Tanaka’s head.”
Hajime shrugs.
“Do you think this is too obvious of a place to leave the mistletoe,” he says instead of admitting to anything. “Or not obvious enough?”
Tsukishima glances up and then past Hajime into the next room.
“Depends on who you’re trying to catch with it.”
“Whoever I can.”
Tsukishima nods, gesturing for Hajime to move out of the way. “Hey Kuroo,” he calls into the next room. “C’mere a sec.” He grins at Hajime. “Pick a person.”
Hajime spins around and gestures frantically at the first person he makes eye contact with. Nishinoya hurries over and nearly collides with Kuroo in the doorway, clearly too worried about the way Hajime had been waving him over to pay attention to what was going on around him.
Kuroo and Nishinoya laugh and start going through the motions of waving each other through the doorway when Tsukishima clears his throat. He smiles sweetly when they look at him and points to the mistletoe hanging above their heads.
“Seriously, Tsukki?” Tsukishima scowls at Kuroo but keeps pointing at the mistletoe.
Nishinoya looks up and laughs, cheeks flushing. Kuroo rolls his eyes at Tsukishima but leans down and gives Nishinoya a kiss that, from Hajime’s perspective, Nishinoya seems to enjoy quite a bit despite how innocent it is.
Kuroo straightens up and rolls his eyes one more time before wandering back to whatever he was doing before Tsukishima called him over. Nishinoya watches him go, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering.
TWO
The suspicious look Kenma gives him from the armchair as he tucks his phone under his leg would probably make a lesser man falter. But Kei’s known Kenma for over a decade and has worked with him in the IT department for the last three years. So he’s been on the receiving end of more than his fair share of suspicious looks from Kenma.
“Whatever you’re planning the answer is no.”
Kei huffs softly and gives Kenma an offended look.
“I am not planning anything.”
“Please. I’ve seen you talking to Hajime. I’m not an idiot.”
Kei shrugs. “At least you don’t automatically assume he’s innocent and I’m the bad influence.”
“I’ve been the lead IT person for four years. I’ve worked with Hajime for five. Trust me. I know he’s no more innocent than you.”
“I would say that hurts.” Kei glances over his shoulder at the burst of noise and laughter that pops up from the kitchen. “But your words haven’t hurt me since we were twelve and you called me a lanky broccoli flavored popsicle. Whatever that meant.”
“It meant you were as appealing as a broccoli flavored popsicle.”
“So I’m an acquired taste.” Kenma nods. “I can deal with that.” Kenma rolls his eyes and reaches for his phone, conversation ended in his mind, and Kei steps back. “Let it be known I was gonna warn you.”
Kenma frowns at him and then his lap is full of flailing arms and a solid body. Kei glances at the doorway that Hajime is peeking out from, looking surprisingly innocent considering he had just shoved Futakuchi hard enough to topple him into Kenma’s lap.
Futakuchi finally manages to get a grip on the arms of the chair and goes to lever himself up when Kei clears his throat and points up.
“I will plant a virus so good it will take you years to recover from it.”
“Just kiss him already.”
Kenma gives Kei a rather rude gesture but he pulls Futakuchi in for a kiss that the other man melts into.
THREE
Satori had seen the mistletoe hanging above the fridge. Hell he had watched Iwaizumi climb onto the counter to stick it to the ceiling; he had been pretty impressed that Iwaizumi hadn’t fallen flat on his face considering how drunk he appeared to be. It’s not like any of them are all that sober at this point so it’s not like he’s judging the man at all. In fact he’s counting on the fact that none of them are all that sober because then they’re more willing to go along with his shenanigans.
Though some of them would be willing anyway. They’re just that awesome of coworkers and friends.
“Are you the guard here or something?” Satori grins and gives Wakatoshi a wink.
“Or something.”
“You planned the mistletoe didn’t you?”
“More like I’m taking advantage of something that was here when I arrived. Using the territory to my advantage. You want in the fridge?”
Wakatoshi smiles a little and leans down to kiss Satori’s cheek.
“Yes, please.”
Like he said. He’s taking advantage of the territory. He gets a kiss on the forehead from Sawamura. A kiss on his hand from Kuroo. Three kisses from Noya in about five minutes because he kept coming back in for more shots. Kenma stares him down until he opts to step out of the way — the last time he pissed Kenma off he hadn’t been able to log into any network in their five building company for almost a month. and despite what some people think he’s not completely stupid.
Just a little reckless sometimes.
“Have you seriously just been standing in front of this fridge all night?” He glances up at Tanaka’s voice and grins at him. Recklessness often pays off. Which is why he does it.
“I have been.”
“You know most people come to a party to socialize.”
“Basically every single person who has come to this party has come into this kitchen. I am socializing.”
“By blocking the fridge?”
“By blocking the fridge.”
Tanaka glances around the kitchen and sighs. “And if someone wants into the fridge because that’s where their drinks are?”
Satori grins even wider and tilts his head before he flicks his pointer finger up and gestures towards the ceiling.
“One kiss to get into the fridge. That’s the fee.”
“Have you seriously been waiting here all night and just kissing anyone and everyone who comes along?”
“I mean. More or less. I don’t necessarily mind kissing any of them but I will admit that I have been hoping for one particular person to come along more than the others and I haven’t kissed them yet.”
Tanaka raises his brows and eyes Satori. “Oh? And who would that be?”
Satori crooks his finger at Tanaka. “C’mere and give me a kiss and I’ll tell you.”
He’s only been wanting to kiss Tanaka for about two years now and the moment their lips meet he knows that it’s been worth the wait. Every moment of the last two years has been worth it.
“Tanaka what’s taking so long to get my—” He has no idea how long they’ve been kissing when Tsukishima comes into the kitchen. “Seriously. Seriously?” Tsukishima sighs and mutters something but Satori is too busy making up for two years of not kissing Tanaka senseless every chance he got to really listen.
FOUR
“It’s kind of hard to watch,” Hajime says as he sits on the couch next to Suga and grimaces.
“Yeah. They’ve been like this since high school.”
“That long?”
“That long.”
“Damn. And I thought Oikawa and Makki were bad.”
Suga snickers. “Oh they were. These two are almost worse somehow.”
Hajime tilts his head as he watches the two men across the room. “It’s impressive in a frightening way.”
“It really is.”
They watch the other men in companionable silence as the men laugh and talk, heads tilted together gently.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Tsukishima says and Hajime looks up in surprise. He swears Tsukishima hadn’t been there just a second ago. But now he’s perched on the arm of the arm of the couch next to Hajime. “Put us out of our misery, Suga. Please.”
Tsukishima hands Suga something. Hajime can’t see what it is but it makes Suga’s eyes light up and he gives them both a wild grin before shooting off the couch and hurrying across the room. Hajime figures Tsukishima will get up and take Suga’s seat but he just stays there perched next to Hajime as Suga grabs Mattsun’s attention and starts whispering to him. The way Mattsun smiles makes Hajime wonder for a brief moment what kind of chaos Tsukishima just unleashed.
Then Suga is clambering onto Mattsun’s back and Mattsun is striding over so Suga can dangle the mistletoe in his hand over his unsuspecting victims.
“Daichi,” Suga calls out. “Chikara. I love you both and I know you both very well. So just trust me when I say just kiss already.”
Daichi’s cheeks flush and Ennoshita looks ready to kill Suga but the entire living room starts to chant for them to kiss and Ennoshita shrugs and pulls Daichi into a deep kiss that has the whole room bursting out in cheers and whistles.
“So,” Hajime says. “Who’s next?”
FIVE
He will deny it to his dying day but Kei actually does kind of have a soft spot in that dark pit he calls a heart for a certain overly enthusiastic ball of sunshine and happiness. He doesn’t want to date Hinata but he does like to make the little shit happy when he can. It usually doesn’t take much. A cute cat meme or a meat bun left on his desk here. The absolute destruction of an opposing company whose CEO thought Hinata was an easy target there. Little things.
The look Iwaizumi gives him when he suggests giving Ushijima the mistletoe with a little bit of instruction is highly uncalled for. It’s far too soft and fond and it makes it look like Iwaizumi thinks Kei is sweet or something.
“Do you want to do this or not?” Iwaizumi snorts at Kei, which is also uncalled for. “Look just give him the mistletoe and leave Hinata to me. And stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some puppy who just learned a new trick or something.”
“Whatever,” Iwaizumi says as he grabs the mistletoe from Kei. “Just get him to us in a couple minutes. I’ll make sure no one else is there.”
He watches Iwaizumi wander out of the room and takes a moment to brace himself. No matter how long he’s known Hinata he needs to prepare himself to interact with the guy. There’s just so much energy there. It’s a lot to take in.
After he gathers himself he heads for the front porch. He’s pretty sure he saw Hinata head outside a few minutes ago.
“Hey,” he says as he leans against the railing next to Hinata. “How’s it going?”
“Not too bad.” Hinata chuckles. “You’ve been busy tonight.”
“Didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me.”
“Well when half our coworkers are suddenly making out it tends to draw some attention. Especially since before this party all of one couple was already a couple.”
“That’s fair.” Kei bumps their shoulders together. “You wanna make another couple happen tonight?”
Hinata peers at him curiously. “Who?”
“You and the tall wall of muscle you drool over during your lunch breaks.”
Hinata perks up. “I like the sound of that. But do you think he does?”
“Iwaizumi is talking to him now. From what I’ve seen while you’ve been drooling it’s a safe bet that he does too.” He pushes away from the porch railing and starts to head back inside. “You coming with to find out,” he asks over his shoulder. “Or are you going to chicken out?”
“Lead the way Tsukishima. I’m not afraid of anything.”
Kei leads Hinata to the home office in the back corner of the house. He can practically feel Hinata vibrating behind him and he shakes his head. He opens the door and ushers Hinata inside. Iwaizumi is leaning against the desk next to Ushijima but he pushes away from it when Kei and Hinata step inside the office.
Iwaizumi pats Ushijima’s shoulder and smiles at Hinata.
Hinata heads for the desk and Ushijima stands up straight when Hinata gets to him.
Kei doesn’t work with Ushijima much so he can’t read him the greatest but he thinks the guy actually looks nervous as he pulls his hand out from behind his back and holds a sprig of mistletoe above Hinata’s head.
Hinata smiles up at Ushijima and nods enthusiastically.
PLUS ONE
Tsukishima pulls Hajime out of the office just before Hinata and Ushijima’s lips meet.
“So,” Hajime sighs happily. “Job well done all around I think.”
Tsukishima laughs softly and nods. “We did good. Though you weren’t nearly as sneaky as you seemed to think you were.”
Hajime waves his hand as they walk down the hall.
“Being sneaky wasn’t the point.”
“What was the point then?”
Hajime leans against the wall next to the hall closet and Tsukishima stops in front of him. Hajime’s gaze flickers to the ceiling and then he watches as Tsukishima looks up and a smile slides onto his face. He reaches out and grabs Tsukishima’s sweatshirt, tugging him closer with a grin.
“Come on and kiss me already.”
“Well if you insist.” Tsukishima lets Hajime tug him forward until he’s pinning Hajime against the wall. “Happy Anniversary, Hajime.”
“Happy Anniversary, Kei,” Hajime mumbles against his lips.
#haikyuu#hq writing#IwaTsukki#EnnoDai#TanaTen#UshiHina#FutaKen#KuroNoya#IwaTsukki fic#vball-baes-bball-babes
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Hardly the Villains
Summary: Roman is the superhero Prince, who fights against the Dark Sides, consisting of Green Menace, Viper, and Shadow Wing. What happens when Roman discovers the real identity of these villains will change his outlook of them.
Word Count: 4868
Warnings: sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Deceit/Janus, fighting, injuries, cursing
Pairings: eventual romantic LAMP, romantic Demus, brotherly creativitwins, brotherly anxceit
AO3 Link My Writing
@rosesisupposes I am so sorry this is a little bit late! 2020 ended the same way it went. But still, I hope you enjoy your @sanderssidesgiftxchange present! It was a fun challenge to work on a superhero fic focused on Roman and Remus!
"Here hold this."
The masked hero barely had time to catch the thing thrown at him, much less identify what it was, before the stick of dynamite blew up in his face. If it were any other super villain, then this would have been the end of the hero. Yet, Green Menace didn't seem to get the memo that he was supposed to try and kill the hero.
The hero let out a squawk as, for the third time this week, his face and hair were covered in cartoonish ash. He heard the cackle of the villain as Viper told Menace that they needed to go.
"Til next time, Princey." Shadow Wing announced.
“Stop flirting and let’s get out of here.” Viper stated to Shadow, not caring if the hero heard or not. The hero did hear, but he also couldn’t see Shadow’s reaction as the villain scooped up Viper and vanishing into the shadows.
"Well, this was fun!" Menace cackled before pulling a paint brush out of nowhere and painting a tunnel on a wall.
The hero knew better than to go after Menace at that point. All of Menace’s powers followed cartoon logic. He had flown straight into too many walls to know that only Menace could use those dumb paintings to travel. So, the hero sigh and flew off.
****
“Like honestly, does that fiend have any idea how hard it is to get that gunk out of my hair?” Roman scrubbed his hair with the towel around his head.
His boyfriend didn’t even bother looking up from his book. “I highly doubt that he knows considering that he is smart enough not to be here after your fights.”
“Sure, I have to take a shower anyways, because of normal fight dirt, but that fiend just has to give me that dumb stick and I have to spend 5ever trying to get the stuff out of my hair!”
“You could try asking him not to hand you the stick of dynamite.”
Roman gave the book Logan was holding determinedly in front of his face, the glare meant for the nerd. “Right, yeah, sure. Something like ‘Excuse me, fiend I fight at least three times a week, can you like not hand me your explosion gunk sticks? Thanks boo.’ How’s that sound?”
“Sounds perfect, RoRo! Just make sure to use your please and thank you’s!” The third boyfriend said, swooping in with a plate of cookies.
Logan finally lowered his book to glance at his watch. “Hmm, you are getting faster at washing that stuff out of your hair, Roman. Patton usually has eaten half of his baked goods before you return.”
Roman managed to let out an offended squawk before the windows suddenly blew in, knocking the bug screen inside the house. The gust of wind responsible seemed to spin around Patton before vanishing. The man let out a small giggle before the chaos appeared.
Remus was shrieking as he scrambled through the window. Logan managed to count to two before a furious looking goose followed the chaotic man in. Remus was already running down the hall to his room, but the goose didn’t seem to be deterred, even if the goose had to make its nest and raise its chicks outside this fiend’s door. The goose would get its revenge eventually.
This time, Logan got to ten before the front door was thrown open with the other two. Janus barked at Roman to help him before sprinting down the hall. Roman shut his eyes to let out a breath, but a crash and something shattering sent him after his twin and twin’s boyfriend. Virgil let out his own breath before saying something that couldn’t be overheard by a loud beep.
“Patton, stop trying to give me a filter! It’s not going to happen and I think a murderous goose deserves a swear or two!”
“What did Remus do this time?” Logan asked, unnervingly calm about this entire situation.
Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “Jan told Remus to get out more and enjoy the sunlight for once. Remus pulled out his meme skills and informed us he went to the park. Then as Jan was congratulating him on going outside, Ree pulled out the goose and it did not like that. We’ve been following the idiot and goose since 4th Street.”
“I’ll go grab the three of you some water then.” Patton hummed as he went back into the kitchen, ignoring the screeching and thumps from further down the hall.
“I am pleased to hear you are getting exercise at least, Virgil.” Logan commented, returning to his book.
“I swear the rat is going to give me a heart attack one of these days, and then I won’t hear the end of Jan’s whining.”
“I do not whine.”
Logan lowered his book, questioning why he was even bothering to try and continue reading. “Also, why would Janus whine to you if you were the one to have a heart attack? I would assume he would whine to the rest of us, as I doubt he would whine to his boyfriend.”
“Janny, you would 100% whine that I was making the rat look bad.” Virgil stated, rolling his eyes.
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”
A voice at the front door cackled. “But Janny makes you go red and it’s cute!”
Logan raised an eyebrow at Remus, who now stood at the door as if nothing had happened. “Did you climb out your bedroom window to avoid the goose?”
“No,” He grinned. “I climbed out to avoid my bro bro twin. Pretty sure he’s still screaming at my door. Where’d Goose Janus go?”
“Well, Janus is right there, however, I am unsure what has become of the goose.”
“Nooo, that’s Human Janus. I asked about Goose Janus.”
“Do not call me Human Janus either.”
“VeeVee, your brother is being mean to meeeeeeEEEee!!!!”
Virgil rolled his eyes at the two of them. “Where is the goose, Jan? I don’t want to be running after the rat and a goose across town again.”
“Roman managed to get it into a pillowcase. He had the top clutched for dear life while screaming at Remus. Which means, we should probably get out of here before the goose is released.” Janus commented.
“Oh, you three are already leaving?” Patton asked, carrying three water bottles.
“Patton, you are amazing.” Janus stated, snatching a bottle from him and downing it in a single gulp.
Virgil rolled his eyes at the figure going for a second water bottle. “Probably for the best. Prince Whines a Lot isn’t exactly agreeable after… work.”
“Oh, OK. We’ll see you guys later then!”
With that, Virgil shoved the other two out the door, muttering that he wanted to go lay down and not move for the next year. The two left in the living room could hear their third partner ranting at a door down the hall, oblivious to the fact the resident was gone. There were also muffled goose noises that worried Patton.
Logan sighed, setting his book aside. “I’ll call Animal Control to come get it. You want to go inform Roman that his twin is gone?”
“M’kay.”
***
Roman’s day had been absolutely terrible. He had gotten a flat tire, some dragon witch at the store stole the entire stock of Crofters before telling him off for being in her way, and he accidentally dropped his phone so it now had a giant crack on the screen. So, when he walked in to see muddy footprints and what he would argue was the stench of a dead rat in the wall, in the summer, he was not exactly kind as he turned to face his twin.
Remus was curled around his laptop, furiously typing away on it. Roman noted the muddy boots that made the muddy footprints were hitched up on the coffee table, spreading the filth there too. Remus muttered something about ripping someone’s ears off and shoving them up their butt and that was the line for Roman today.
“Are you serious, Remus! This place is a disaster! When I left, it was spotless! And what is that smell?! Did you run a secret trash dump in here while I was gone?”
“Oooooh, that is an interesting idea.” Remus cackled, still not looking up.
If Roman had the ability to shoot laser beams out of his eyes, Remus would have already been a crisp of a crisp. “What are you even doing?”
“Hacking into a multibillion company for a sweet payday.”
Roman managed to get halfway through an eyeroll before realizing what his brother was actually doing. “Great, I’m going to have to burn that couch!”
Remus finally glanced up at the other, eyebrows knit. But before he could ask, his phone let off a ding and he decided that was more interesting. He snatched it up and started grinning. Roman watched Remus quickly throw everything into his backpack. He jumped up and grabbed a duffle bag that Roman hadn’t noticed. If Remus was covered in mud, the duffle was mud disguised as a bag. Remus sang out a ‘smell ya later, bro bro’ before he was out the front door, leaving Roman in the middle of the mess.
Roman took a deep breath as the door slammed behind his twin. He took another. One more deep inhale and he let out a frustrated scream into the arm desperately trying to muffle it. Now his throat hurt on top of him needing to clean up the mess his idiot of a brother left behind.
“Come on, Roman. Mom is paying off your car payments and rent for letting the bastard stay here. And you like not having to use 85% of your paychecks just to pay for those. Plus, the bastard spends most of his time out of the house with those irritating friends of his. It’s fine! It’ll be fine!”
He kept muttering this to himself as he angrily cleaned up the mud. Once he got as much as he could up, he took a seat (on the opposite couch as he now had to get rid of his favorite couch) to Google how to get rid of the stench. Like honestly, what did that bastard do to make it smell so bad in here? Roman thought it would be a bit better once some of the mud was gone, but nope, still just as bad.
Almost louder than Remus’s snoring, the Hercules song Zero to Hero started blaring from Roman’s work phone. He was instantly on his feet, heading to his room as he pulled it out of his pocket.
New message:
Human Computer: The Dark Sides are robbing the regional Walmart financial offices. That is two streetlights left of the so called ‘lame’ coffeeshop, Prince.
Moral Compass: Aww, I just put on the new episode of Steven Universe Future though!
Human Computer: I am sure they will apologize if you inform them of this. Prince, have you seen the message or am I going to have to hack your personal phone and laptop to get your attention?
Prince: 10-4 nerd
Roman grabbed his katana before rushing out the back door. He grinned as he twisted the watch face and pressed the newly appeared button. Sometimes making Logan watch cartoons and daring him to make cartoon gadgets was worth the mutterings and frustration Roman faced from his partner. The hero costume shimmered around him, concealing his identity as he took off into the sky.
Roman could hear the alarms going off. Even if Logan hadn’t specified where it was, Roman would have known where those fiends were. He knew that Patton would give him the scolding of the century if he knew, but Roman welcomed this attack. It gave him a means to take his frustrations off on some villains who constantly tormented the town.
“Sorry, Princey. Can’t let you go any further.” A voice commented behind the hero as he took in the scene.
“Oh look, it’s the talking shadowling.” Roman commented, turning to see the villain.
Honestly, seeing Shadow Wing always took Roman’s breath away upon first sight. Long wings were stretched out, barely flapping in order to keep the person up. Shadows were cascading down the wings, mimicking black flames falling to the ground. As for the villain, Shadow always reminded Roman of Wesley in his full Dread Pirate Roberts getup from the Princess Bride.
“Ooof, pretty sure you used that insult last week. Running out of creative material there, Princey?” That insufferable smirk!
“At least I have a variety, Raven Boy.”
“Mmm, creativity is not my department. Anyways, what’s up with the big knife you’ve got there? Wanna try slicing shadows?”
Roman had enough time to pull out the katana before the strange ball of frozen darkness was dangerously close. He barely managed to slash it. He still preferred Shadow’s cold blobs over being handed the explosive gunk stick Menace always handed him. Roman watched Shadow take off into the sky before swooping down close to the ground.
A ball of darkness landed right before Logan, or as he was in his own hero costume-the Human Computer. The villain was already rising back up into the air, ignoring the fact that he had just barely missed the hero’s sidekick. Roman threw himself into the fight, angry about the day, sure, but this villain just went after his boyfriend! There must be vengeance!
“Oooooooh, Shadow really does have interesting flirting methods!” A new voice commented.
Shadow threw some of his shadows at Green Menace, who was eagerly cackling. Roman quickly scanned, searching for the last of the evil trio. No sight of Viper. Then Menace’s voice forced Roman to turn back to seeing what the villain was cackling about. He did have to admit Menace and Shadow seemed to be close friends at the very least. Why does that hurt Roman?
“Let’s get this over with. I have SUF to watch.” Shadow commented.
“Okie dokie, bro-kie!”
“Say that again and I am sending you to the bottom of the Mariana Trench and leaving you for the eldritch horrors down there.”
“Pleasssssse, even they would ssssend thissss trash back to ussssss.” Ah, there’s Viper.
Menace was grinning as he pretended to wipe away a tear. “The two of you really understand me.”
Roman twisted the katana, mentally mapping out how to try and take these three down. It was always a difficult fight but Logan and Patton were better ground support while the dark trio kept to the skies, out of reach of almost everyone and thing. And because Roman was certain of this fact, he didn’t see the safety hazard strike him down.
All Roman knew was one moment, he was getting ready to whap Menace and the next, he was in a huge crater, staring up at four figures in the sky. The air was knocked out of him and his body did not want to move for the next year. Before he could reorient himself, the new figure knocked an entire building on top of Roman, trapping him under rubble. Not that the hero noticed as he lost consciousness.
***
The three villains stared in shock at the new figure. The new enemy hummed disinterestedly at the pile where the hero had landed. The new figure turned to look over the three standing before them. He had planned this entire take over and subjecting these three useless tools to his will. Half of his plan was already complete, now just to deal with the amateurs.
All three of them had lost the easiness they had with the hero. Now, they look furious. In fact, Green Menace looked like he was about to rip the world apart with his teeth. The new figure didn’t place much thought on that, expecting that reaction.
“Now then. You three idiots see how a real villain does it.” He stated. “I will be merciful and offer you positions as my lackies, but this is now my town.”
Shadow was already pulling all of the shadows towards him as Viper hissed at the newcomer. “No, you will not. This is our home. We will not let anyone else terrorize our home. We might not be heroes to the people here, but we will not let someone come terrorize the town we have under our control.”
“Shadow, Viper.” Menace’s voice was chillingly serious. “Now.”
Shadows shot through the air, stealing the sunlight and replacing it with waves of fear and terror, as a long snake managed to coil around the newcomer. However, Green Menace was the most terrifying to onlookers and the new villain. Menace was out for blood and would not rest until the bastard was twenty feet under for hurting his twin brother.
****
“…kidding me?!”
“What else were we supposed to do, Vee? Leave him there?”
“Take him to the house the two of you share! Hate to break it to you, but your brother is a complete dumbass; I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that he doesn’t know the truth. So, he’s not only going to wake up after a massive fight, in a strange place he has never been in, he’s also surrounded by his enemies!”
For all the luck in the world, of course this was the first thing Roman heard as he gained consciousness. The hero tensed as he opened his eyes only the smallest amount to see the trio of villains standing in front of him in a dark room. He desperately wanted to look around and see how much danger he was in, but that would require that he open his eyes and if they weren’t torturing him because they thought he was still unconscious, then he wasn’t going to let them know he was awake.
“I agree that he probably hasn’t figured it out yet, but if we left him, rescue services would have found him and if one of our identities are revealed, all of them are. What do you think the government’s first reaction to having the superhero Prince unconscious in some hospital would be? Hmm? We are working with what we can do. We wouldn’t be able to make it to the twins’ house without being spotted. We have our tunnels to get here.”
Wait… That meant… They knew where he lived. Oh no, they knew where he lived. That meant Remus would be in danger as well. It meant Logan and Patton were in danger. It meant that Virgil and Janus were in danger. It meant that everyone Roman knew and cared about were in danger because of these villains.
“I know that this entire situation is bad, but we’re doing the best we can. Even the walking ray of sunshine and nerd said this was the best option.”
Pound. Pound.
“Where is he?! How badly is he hurt?”
Roman’s heart might as well have stopped in that moment. These villains could do whatever they wanted to him, but he will not let these fiends harm a hair on Patton or Logan’s head. In an instant, Roman was on his feet, and shoving the closest figure to him against a wall. As he looked at the face he had pinned, his heart might as well be stopped as that would be a kinder fate than this. The face he saw, was the face of Virgil Storm-Ekans.
Roman stepped back in pure shock as his eyes swept to the other two villains, taking in all three shocked faces. Standing in front of him were both his brother and Remus’ friends, but also the trio of villains, perfectly mashed together. His twin brother in Menace’s sparkling green and black costume probably found in some thrift store, looking like some knock off Luigi. Janus in Viper’s black and yellow suit complete with the dumb cloak and hat. And Virgil in… Virgil in a black Wesley outfit with huge shadow-y black wings wrapped tightly around him.
“I-No… Noo… This isn’t- it can’t”
Patton appeared, blocking Roman’s vision from the three he hated. “Roman, hey, hey. Shhhh. It’s OK. Come on, let’s get you back on the couch. You’re OK, your safe.”
Roman was gently forced onto the couch before Patton started to heal the injuries he had. Soft blue light shone from his hand as each wound healed and vanished. Roman’s eyes were still trying to take in the mess, however. A creak pulled his attention to a set of stairs to see Logan calmly walking down, looking at something on his phone.
“Lo, do you have information on who the hell Orange Traffic Cone was?” Virgil asked, his wings fluttering nervously as they unwrapped from around him.
“I was going to ask the same of you. They were obviously some kind of villain, so I assumed you three would have more information on who or what they were.”
“Well, isn’t this a wonderful situation we have.” Janus grimaced. “I doubt they will be returning, however.”
Logan adjusted his glasses as he glanced over at Roman, pleased to see the boyfriend was healing up well. “Well, after that impressive show of power, I doubt anyone will try to take over the town from you three. I do wonder how the three of you gained so much power though.”
“We were the ones to find the dumb radioactive stone and spend more time around it, Logan. Proximity to the source of all of our powers.” Janus commented.
“Ah, that does make sense. It would also probably explain the extra developments as well.”
“Call them what they are, Lo. Mutations. Freaks like me… us have mutations.” Virgil spat.
Logan looked over the other, noting that the wings were tightening around the youngest of the group. “You are not a freak, Virgil.”
Virgil scoffed, “Yeah, right.”
Logan narrowed his eyes but could tell that it would take a while to improve the other’s confidence, so decided to try and improve the mood. “You are not a freak, Virgil. I know you do not accept it right now, but hopefully in time. Now, Remus, a question I have been meaning to ask. Did you really dump cow manure on the executive’s desk?”
“Wait, was that what was in that disgusting bag of yours?!”
“It was bull shit!” Remus cackled.
“What-what is going on?” Roman intruded, weakly. “Is-is this some kind of prank or a dream?”
“Roman, have you truly not realized who the ‘dark sides’ are?” Logan asked, curiously. “Did it not occur to you that if you got superpowers, at very least your own twin brother would also develop some powers as well?”
“But-but- they’re evil!” Roman screeched.
“Hardly.”
Remus knelt to look his twin in the face, concern filling the red-tinted hazel eyes. “Ro- did- do you really think that? Do you really think us evil?”
Words would not escape Roman’s chocked throat, but that seemed enough of an answer to the rest of the room. Virgil and Janus instantly backed away, granting Roman more space as Logan moved forward and took the seat on Roman’s other side. Remus looked at his twin in so much shock and pain that Roman wanted to lie through his teeth.
“Roman, while these three may violate legal codes, they are hardly evil. They are more like Robin Hood than some evil monster.”
“But today-“
“We were stealing from Walmart to give money to a homeless shelter full of full-time Walmart employees, Ro. What happened with that rando was unexpected. We still don’t know who they were or what their intentions truly were.” Virgil said, softly.
Patton took Roman’s hand into his. “RoRo, have you not even wondered why despite all those fights, you never actually ended up hurt? Not even a bruise most times.”
“That literally every hit that would actually hurt missed? Like I get thinking that of Remus, but of Jan and me?”
“But- what about you throwing one of those dark snowballs at Logan earlier?!”
Logan barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Roman, I’m not sure you’ve realized yet, but Patton and I knew who these three were. Virgil was tossing me a flash drive that I designed to aide them in hacking through complex security measures that I was able to use to further hide the true amount they stole.”
“You were helping these fiends?!?”
“Well, it’s not acceptable that a multibillion company lets their employees live in poverty.” Patton softly admitted.
“Why-“ Roman was just so lost and confused. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why was I left out?”
“Most of us thought you already knew. Virgil pushed for a verbal confirmation that you knew before letting the idea that you didn’t know rest. It’s not like we made any effort to discuss work out of very specific locations, which rarely intersect between all of us.” Logan answered.
Roman ran a hand through his hair, trying to process all of this. The rest of the room glanced around at each other. A silent agreement to give the hero a moment was passed around. Once they seemed to understand the decision, Janus glanced at Virgil before turning to Patton.
“Hey, literal sunshine. Can you possibly take a look at Virgil’s wing and see if you can heal whatever happened to it?”
“I’m fine, Jan.”
“Bullshit. Don’t make me pull the older brother card on you, little shit. You only hold your wings that close to you when they are hurt.”
“If you’re hurt, I can fix it! You don’t need to be in pain!” Patton said, jumping up.
“Seriously, I’m fine, Princey over there was the one who got hit with an entire building.”
“Vee, let Pat look at your wing. Traffic Cone did a pretty bad number on you, trying to knock you out of the air.” Remus said softly.
“Come on, kiddo. I’ll need access to your back to see if the joints are alright, but you’ll feel a lot better afterword!” Patton said.
“Ugh, I can see the fight is already lost.” Virgil muttered, before taking his black shirt off.
Roman had a lot of information to process, but that didn’t happen as he saw how ripped the other was. He had thought Virgil was hot and Shadow Wing hotter, but seeing the two combined, yeah, Roman was gay. At least he was also poly so could ask his partners if they were interested in romancing a certain shadow. Which if his super gay mind could actually remember anything, he would remember that they were actually already pushing to ask Vee out.
“OK, you have a bruised muscle and some of your feathers are gone. I also think you have a broken bone somewhere around here.” Patton said, pulling Roman out of his gay panic.
Janus immediately moved over, looking over the feathers before letting out a breath. “You are one lucky bastard, Vee. It’s mostly tertiary and a few secondary ones. But that means you were close to getting taken out by that knife.”
There was a small mischievous cackle near Roman. “So bro bro. You crushing hard on Virgil yet, or do Jan and I need to undress him some more for you?”
“REMUS!”
“Whaaaaat, I’m just trying to set up my bro with my hoe’s bro.”
****
2 months later…
“Oh come on, Princey. Surely you can do better than that.”
Roman was glad that most people couldn’t see details of them from the ground. If they could, they would see that Prince had a huge smile as he dodged his boyfriend’s shadow ball. It wouldn’t do him any harm, and in fact all of their boyfriends found comfort in the gentle cool kiss of them by now. No, Roman was determined to tag the sensor on the other’s arm, indicating that he won the game today. Can’t win if Virgil won.
Below, Remus and Janus were breaking into an Amazon warehouse to steal food, blankets, and clothes to donate to various homeless organizations. Once they were done, the two of them would join their third partner in crime to ‘escape’ from the Prince while the Prince pretended to hate them. Prince would fly off, talk to police about what happened, watch the Human Computer bury the actual amount stolen so that the company would just write it off. The Moral Compass would gently push a calm acceptance upon everyone so that there would be less struggle to hunt the villains down.
Then, the three of them would go and change out of their hero costumes and pick up the trio from their downtown townhouse. They would go home, order pizza, and watch movies all night, laughing and having fun. The next day, they would spend the day dropping off items at various homeless shelters. Roman would see how much it meant to the shelters to receive the donations, and it would make him wonder why he ever thought the trio were evil. Then the group would split so Remus and Janus would head to the townhouse while the four boyfriends would head to Roman’s planning a nice night with their partners.
And honestly, Roman wouldn’t have it any other way.
#sage writes#sympathetic deceit#sympathetic remus#superhero au#logan#roman#virgil#Patton#injury mention#romantic lamp#romantic demus#brotherly creativitwins#brotherly anxceit#cursing#fighting mention#sandersidesgiftexchange#sandersidesgiftexchange2020#rosesisupposes
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ROBERT “BOBBY” MCKENZIE —
IG info/bio : @/returnofdamckenzie | 426k followers | @/mclitgs2 is my forever boo🤟🏽😍 while @/cardib is my WIFE! She just doesn’t know it yet ❤️ support my work & be part of my family: @/bobbymckcares
24 (25) years young
Born in Dundee, raised in Glasgow, Scotland
Jamaican father named Badrick who is a African studies professor
Caucasian/Scottish mother named Catriona who used to be a au pair but now works as a receptionist in senior living — one eye is honey hazel and the other a dark brown
It was difficult growing up in a school that didn’t accept Bobby being biracial, it resulted in bullying to the point where he needed to switch schools (A lawsuit was also in place) The next school was slightly better but Bobby slowly learned to accept himself as it was not something he could control and not something he would want to in the first place. He was proud of where he came from and never thought he was better or less than anyone else, that wasn’t how he was raised
He’s an only child, his parents thought about adopting (and fostering) but with Bobby they had their hands full and he was just enough for them
His family is very family-oriented so he would never have to feel lonely since they gave him a lot of attention, slightly making him spoiled but he was also around his cousins & spending time with them as well
He’s extremely close to his younger cousin (only by a few months) Femi who he views as his sister. They’ve been through a lot together and are always there for each other so it only makes sense
Most likely an active kid always up to some sort of shenanigans whether it’s by himself or with his group of friends, “why would you do that Bobby?” “Don’t ask why but ask, why not!?”
Definitely suffered some broken bones, concussions, & sprain injuries but would never show signs of pain...guys got a high pain tolerance that’s for sure
Fan of films/series “stand by me” & “the goonies” & “scooby doo” since he feels they relate to his life??
Hospital caterer and loves making those feel better with food that he’s created. If he can’t put a smile on patients face with words then he feels like he can show them with food
Food is an art to him. He went to school for culinary & it’s very important for him to show how much it is to him. He picked up the craft from of course his family, who always used food for numerous of things: to bring people together is one of them
Perfected Jerk haggis, it is now he favorite dish next to desert & breakfast!
I’m struggling to figure out what sign he maybe? He’s very playful which may come off as childish at times, which makes me think of Leo? (Maybe Gemini?) Only because they usually hold onto their childhood as best as they can, very generous, & give their energy to you but I also don’t see him being a fire sign at all? So maybe very little Leo in his chart. I also feel like he might be a bit of an empath? He knows when situations around him don’t feel right, knows how to read the room, and always wants to help others by lighting things up.
Idk but I’m feeling he’s libra sun + Gemini moon + Leo rising? Who knows
Probably lived in a 2 bed flat with his old uni mate. It was small and a bit shit but it was their shit and they made the best of it
Now lives in a stone cottage or farmhouse with MC that was built in the 1900’s & is slightly haunted. He’s decided to call them Duncan??? But he believes they’re a good spirit, maybe even a friendly ghost!? since he got comfortable with the bizarre happenings in the new flat & it doesn’t seem like they want to hurt them
Lottie offered to bring her ouija board next time she visited—Bobby declined
House is mostly neutral based but three of the rooms in the flat are covered in ridiculous patterned walls or furniture much to MC’s distaste but, “what’s yours is mine” right? No. But Gary approves!
Has two dogs: a terrier & a collie since MC wasn’t down for getting a sheep
They do have chickens to raise their own eggs tho!
Definitely the kind of significant other that will ride on the cart when they’re out grocery shopping, will make you breakfast in bed, & will send you memes while he’s at home and you’re out or even when he’s at work and you’re at home, let’s you put his arm to sleep when you’re laying on it in bed (big ass head gang!), definitely chooses the candles from bath & body works that smell like food items (majority of them suck let’s be honest)
Probably smells like cucumber, melons, lemons, and eucalyptus
Has your wedding date in his IG bio & is proud
Annoys Gary & Lottie with his food pics, “oh, Not this shit again! 😡 looks brilliant, but enough!”
Has zoom/FaceTime movie nights with Marisol & MC who stopped feeling like she was third-wheeling months ago
Talks to hope & Noah (in the background) as much as he can. Feels like they’re his inspiration for love, even tho he’s the only one married out of the villa
He values marriage just like his parents do and often has Sunday dinners with them & MC ofc
Probably has relationship guide books and only reads them out of boredom but finds fascinating facts/advice if he pays attention & tries to apply it to his relationship with mc. If it works, it works! & If it doesn’t, you can’t say he didn’t try!
Works long hours but will still come home to cook for MC or brings leftovers from the events he’s catered (most are for the hospital but occasionally he’ll do other events)
Has a separate IG for his work
When WAP dropped, he almost lost his shit. Even tried to get MC to do the challenge with him, he’s pretty bad but MC eventually learned it just for him 😜
Is thrilled that Cardi made the best decision EVER on divorcing offset, “are you thinking of leaving me now?” “... I might.” “BOBBY!” “Haha, I love you!
Absolutely loves Christmas!!! It’s his favorite holiday and he loves giving back to everyone in his life. Usually he’s working overtime for the holidays & it makes him emotional due to the stories he hears & he puts a little extra love in his food
Goes all out for Christmas. Tries to buy/make everyone something. Even if he doesn’t really care for them...he’ll at least send them a x-mas card, if they keep it or burn it it’s entirely up to them—if he knew about it he’d probably be a little sad not gonna lie...he’s a soft king
Once bought Lottie black crocs with spooky pins , “are you joking Bobby?!” He knows she secretly loved them
Uses salt and peppermint in his dark hot cocoa...
Rather make deserts for Christmas than the food, he feels like it’s his duty
King of giving the thumbs up, especially when situations have gone to shit. He’ll still shoot them up with a smile or a grimace
Always inviting someone somewhere. “Bobby, hun. You’re 4-6 hrs away and it’s 1 am.” Hope groaned after listening to his bright idea, thinking something bad happened. “Ah, you could still make it if you tried, lassie.” “I’m gonna hang up now. Good night, bonkers man.”
Needs constant reminding when to get his locs touched up & moisturized
Either has a trampoline or a funhouse jumper in his backyard (maybe both) “we’ve got the space and this is better than a pool, or almost!”
Wants children, a whole footie team! There’s no specific time frame for him, when it happens, it happens
Used to cool & wet temps & loves vacationing in Greenland. Sure the hot weather he experienced in the villa was awesome & something different than what he’s used to but you can’t take the scot out of the man. So he typically sticks to places that are similar in temps, that way he doesn’t have to change his clothing choices much
Loves a good bath. Bubble baths are better than bath bombs to him, PERIOD!
Loves bubbles so much he put too much laundry detergent in the wash (does this on purpose now) and came back home to the dogs and room covered in it. Do you think he cleaned it up before MC came home? No. He decided to have a bubble party in the room with a Caribbean playlist playing in the background
MC definitely posted about it the first time & joined him for a bit, dreading the work that came with cleaning it all up. Now whenever Bobby needs a bubble party, he knows what to do. MC preferred him to have his little bubble party in the tub but 50% of the time he chooses not to listen & they leave him to pout & clean it himself
Likes to hold hands with fingers interlocked. When it’s cold and if you’re both wearing hoodies, he’ll slide his hand inside the arm of your hoodie to help keep you warm
Canon: His version of a snack is spaghetti hoops on toast & can eat that for the rest of his life & be content
If he didn’t end up marrying MC, probably finds his significant other working as a nurse at one of the hospitals he caters to or a volunteer at a old folks home
Never had a serious relationship, very few hookups, was either always placed in the friend zone or there was one person he wanted to be serious with but they rejected him and continued loving someone else who treated them like shit—so he kinda swore off of relationships and just flirted a bunch and kept his love life non-existent
Fav ice cream? Rocky road ice cream with one scoop of cotton candy & one scoop of cookie butter blue
Doesn’t believe in measuring when it comes to culinary. He uses his eyes as his measurement, could be a bad thing, could be a good thing, that’s up to you
If he’s up at night, he’s eating something sweet. A nice glass of single malt scotch whiskey + a splash of coconut milk (🤢) with a slice of angel food cake & he’s out like a light
Absolutely loves shopping for the kitchen, finds immense joy in doing so. If you lose him in a store, one of the places you’ll most likely find him is in the kitchen decor area
Owns a bagpipe & wants to get better at it, even tho he scared the living shit out of his dogs & chickens
Wears his shades quite a bit even tho the weather is hardly sunny and mainly windy & damp
Will hold the door for strangers even if they don’t say thank you
He’s open when it comes to music. Will listen to anything but feels like the music has to be a purpose for something...Everything he does in his day to day life has to feel like a soundtrack to him since in his mind he’s daydreaming about his life being made into a movie. Who isn’t?
He thinks wentworth Miller should play him in a film and that kid from blackish should play him when he was a wee lad, Marcus Scribner
Always keeps a positive attitude because he knows what it feels like to feel low and he doesn’t want anybody else in the world to feel like that so he wants to uplift and if he can try to be someone’s happiness he’ll gladly be that— which isn’t always the right move, he learned
Listens to: Rotimi, Shaggy, Sean Paul, Skip Marley, H.E.R., Jhene Aiko, Jorja Smith, UMI, The Kooks, The Killers, Cold War kids, Milky chance, Blood Orange, The 1975, Vampire Weekend, Bad Suns, BRYSON TILLER, Kilo Kish, & Ella Eyre (although he misses her old music)
Celeb crushes? Cardi B is his mfkin celeb wife okay?! Nobody else comes above her! He also thinks FKA twigs is pretty & super talented, sevdaliza!, Tia & Tamera, Iman, and brandy from the 90s makes him swoon
Anthem = jaden, “Boys and Girls”
#litg#litg s2#litg2#litg Bobby#litg au#litg headcanon#litg headcanons#litg gary#litg lottie#litg marisol#litg mc#litg hope#you asked and you shall receive
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By the Numbers: Ben Crawford, Ali Ewoldt, Jay Armstrong Johnson
By the Numbers: The Ben Crawford/Ali Ewoldt/Jay Armstrong Johnson Stream, August 22, 2020
[long-awaited submission from Aldebaran; I’m putting it behind a cut]
Oh my gosh, an epic stream deserves an epically long and epically late By the Numbers! Come with me back in time, all the way back to two weeks ago, which in pandemic days is a month and a half. Before we were treated to Giant Ivan and Tiny Tamara in Moscow, there was The Swagger, The Disney Princess and The Bot…
This was a fantastically fun boot to watch as part of a group of enthusiastic Saturday Streamers! Plusses included an earlier-in-his-run Ben “The Swagger” Crawford as the Phantom, with the spotlight on his booming baritone voice, and Ali “Paris’s Sweetheart” Ewoldt as an enchanting Christine. And—Jay Armstrong Johnson (we’re pretty sure) as Raoul. Or some semblance of Raoul. Something was up with Raoul in this performance and the consensus was there may have been robotics involved. I won’t say more here; the streamers have it covered below and a fantastic set of memes by Onthevirg/faunaproductions caught tons more great moments. Very very nice filming job by a master who clearly knew the show well and anticipated major moments and character moves in a smooth manner. Not a bot though. As far as we know. And featuring an AIAOY– let’s just say that has to be seen to be believed.
Some stats on the stats: An asterisk * indicates a recurring category. All numbers are accurate except where they are not. I was tempted last week to resort to making crap up for this recap, but resisted the temptation. I will occasionally add in a missing letter or two. If a person’s train of thought is split up, I will ignore intervening commentary and put that thought back on track. Occasionally, by design or by mischance, a comment or two will be moved slightly out of original chronological order. Or wildly out of chronological order to cater to a theme. Or a whim. Only when it’s funny. There is also no clean way to say the word “organ” which pops up a lot in this stream. (See what I mean? It can’t be done.)
*Suggested names for this boot: The Animatronic Boot, The Better Than Cooper Boot, The It’s Alive! Boot, Robot Roll Call Boot (Okay, nobody suggested these. It was me. I suggested these)
*Statistician’s Favorite Boot Name: mechanical hands down, The RaoulBot Boot
*Wow, we like to talk about Phantoms: It has become clear to me that we like to talk about everybody. And everything. Phantoms, Christines, Raouls, Mandalorians. Here are most of the people mentioned in the stream. There is no context. Just like a real stream!!!
John Riddle (9), Gina Beck (8), Ramin (6), Rob Houchen (2), Ethan (1), Eiji (1), Uwe (3), Jordan Craig (2), Sierra (1), Steve Barton (3), David Shannon (2), Norm (14), Earl (1), Cooper (2), Darua (4), Thiago (11), Rachel Barrell (1), Meghan Picerno (2), Cherik (19), Pedro Pascal (1), B*rbour (7), Eva Tavares (4), Ted Keegan (5), Maree Johnson (2), Quentin Oliver Lee (1), Jeremy Hays (1), Ben Jacoby (3), Andrew Keenan Bolger (1), Greg Mills (1), Michael Maliakel (1), KKA (8), Jordan Donica (1), Kyle Barisch (8), Andrew Ragone (3), Paul Stanley/Stankey (3), Hannah Gadsby (2)
Residual Stolle Thirst: Residual Stolle Thirst from the stream a week prior to this one, plus Mr. Stolle’s appearance as Passarino AND the Conductor in this boot resulted in >32 mentions. There may or may not have been comparisons between his Raoul and this boot’s Raoul. I certainly wouldn’t put it past us.
Epithets for Ben Crawford: Ubiquitous mentions of Crawdaddy and The Swagger. More personalized and clearly personal epithets: Big Ben—ktarinajones, BENBENBENBEN—whereisthepersian, OH HELLO VOICE—butdreamsofbeauty, my horny bastard and I love him—ktarinajones
Epithets: reader’s choice as to which Phantom(s) the following apply to (no one in this stream): Fuckface McGee–therosenpants Sir Scruffsalot—snows Voldemort—Benny-Lynne Traschcan–therosentpants
Antici_____pation:
I can’t wait for jay I honestly thought they’d slapped a human face on a robot and called it a day—angedelamusique
Let’s all just have fun trying to spy hints of actual emotion in Jay’s Raoul—GlassPrism
Oh there will be memes. Ben Crawford is a walking meme and there will be a robot on stage—ktarinajones
Oh boy, here we go—GlassPrism
We love a trainwreck:
I love this stream crowd because you all show up for trainwrecks just as enthusiastically as you do for good actors—wheel-of–fish
We love a trainwreck!—butdreamsofbeauty
we’re ready—angelofthelake
trainwrecks are v satisfying—christinegrrl
We’re here with roses, we’re here with rotten fruit, we’re versatile! A good tirefire is a marshmallow roast–snows
Debut of RaoulBot: Before the show even began, JAJ’s Raoul had a name:
RaoulBot—ktarinajones at 20:01:33 (historic occasions get timestamps!)
wait they can’t moisten the raoul if he’s a robot, can they?—butdreamsofbeauty
they can oil him—ktarinajones
oil the raoul, perfect—butdreamsofbeauty
He has a silicone exterior—Benny-Lynne
wd-40—wheel-of-fish
How do we know he is waterproof? Let’s see if he sparks when he hits the Raoul Hole—Aldebaran
Earliest Meme Generation: Our intrepid memester Virg had material for a meme within 8 minutes 27 seconds of the start of the stream.
Love is in the Air: There was a lot of love in this stream
Ali Love: >32
Laird Love: 28
Carlotta Love: 20
Filmer Love: 5
Extreme John Riddle love: 2
when there’s video of John Riddle the filmer can have a kidney if they want—ktarinajones, seconded by christinegrrl
And then there was Jay:
Oh he did a head nod. Well done.—Bozzleboz
At least Jay doesn’t shoot a policeman—PureAnon
Several head turns in succession there. Getting ambitious.–Bozzleboz
Illumination!: Auction Raoul set the tone for the evening to come, and the chandelier seized the moment to shine.
OMG, his jaw moves just like a real person….or a nutcracker—Aldebaran
His batteries are running down. Maybe they will wire him for the new electricity.—Aldebaran
Robot Raoul is using all the electricity—Aldebaran
That chandelier isn’t rising—Ladyrock18
It’s not rising because they have to unhook the cables that power Raoulbot—DocTy
The chandelier shows more emotions than Jay as Raoul—Maze-zen
Erik made a Raouldoll to add to his collection?—Benny-Lynne
The chandelier shows the full range of human emotions. That is why it was cast.—haunted-hideaway
The chandelier is more expressive than this Raoul—Carole
The chandelier can actually sing in morse code—DocTy
Meanwhile backstage Raoulbot is recharging in his alcove—Aldebaran
If you listen closely you can hear diesel generators in the background recharging the batteries—DocTy
C’mon guys, he’s solar powered—ktarinajones
is that why he stops working in the dark during AIAOY–christinegrrl
Statistician Aldebaran wonders if she will be able to handle viewing Cherik:
Oh I finally finished the 90’s miniseries! I have thoughts!—Abberina
Abberina do you have thoughts other than “I hurt, I am in pain”?—snows
@snows the ending was WILD—Abberina
Abberina, I spent the whole day lying and crying after the 90s miniseries, are you allright?—Carole
“Wild”??? How are you still living! That ending! Gghh!—snows
Do you need something? A glass of water? Therapy?—Carole
My heart hasn’t recovered yet. And I watched it 4 years ago.–Carole
Christine Who?: One would think that Christine’s debut in Hannibal would have the streamers’ full attention. But no. All eyes were on Raoul in his box. Or maybe just unpacked from the box he came in.
can it be? can it be a robot?—christinegrrl
can it be chreeeestineeee—butdreamsofbeauty
engage clapping program—Aldebaran
clap beep boop clap clap—angelofthelake
beep boop clapping action beep boop—Jadowdra
EXECUTE EMOTION—missbuster
Stache or cache?: Once we were beginning to get an idea of the limits of Raoulbot’s programming, we turned our attention to his most character defining feature—the mustache.
omg mustache—MelancholysChild
His mustache is a little full for me. Oh well. I guess that’s where he hides his secrets.—haunted-hideaway
wowWWWW—put that boy in a floofy shirt and stick him in the pirates of the caribbean ride at disney, damn—snows
it’s where he hides his processer—therosenpants
haunted he needs something to cry into—ashadeintheshade
That is not a mustache, that is fiber optics—Aldebaran
although he is stiffer than the other robotic pirates—snows
Haunted, his secret is his charger entrance—Carole
You keep your secrets then, Raoul—haunted-hideaway
Autocorrect Follies:
Pinging = Piangi–Bozzleboz
Paul Stankey = Paul Stanley—IamErik771
Ironic Statement is Ironic:
I always forget there’s an elephant–yiks
Cooper finds a role:
[as Buquet appears] oh hey look it’s cooper!—snows finally a role for cooper, buquet all the way—Aldebaran ohh wait sorry it’s the other scruffy creepy nasty weirdo—snows
*Best from Onthevirg’s Mom: “like stolles passarino cooper should always be buquet—it’s a fitting role”
Joseph Buquet job performance review:
DO YOUR FREAKING JOB BUQUET. –madamefaust I’ll never get over that line “i promise i wasn’t doing my job!!!!!”—butdreamsofbeauty
The Boy Ain’t Right: Little Lotte made it very apparent that Raoul may have been compromised.
Don’t make fun of him, you guys. The tiny alien in his head driving his body is doing his best, ok?—haunted-hideaway
li tt le l ott e—tearoses
So….Erik’s looking like an awesome choice right about now…–HerbalPath
Usually i’m r/c but uh not today—yiks
His hat is just an excuse he’s going to recharge a bit—Carole
That was almost threatening how he said little lotte—Ladyrock18
*Vintage MadameFaust: Don’t quote me too much, my knowledge is based on judicious use of Wikipedia;-)
[inspired by Raoul’s Little Lotte performance] CHOCOLATES
HUMANS LOVE CHOCOLATES *Biggest Organ in Paris: The mirror scene included a thunderous organ accompaniment. It took me ten minutes to write a non-filthy sentence that conveyed that information while containing the word “organ.” The Saturday Streamers were fired up! Except for a certain statistician–
WOAH—therosenpants THAT ORGAN—PureAnon ORGAN—haunted-hideaway Wow—DocTy ORGAN!—butdreamsofbeauty did you hear that??????—therosenpants organ—DocTy Orrgannnnn—Xyloghost that roused me from Lore Olympus—therosenpants ORGAN!—Jawodra What’s with the loud organ?—maze-zen organ AWESOME—snows THE ORGAN WAS PERFECT—whereisthepersian I loved it!—MelancholysChild Is that new? that’s BADASS–snows Organ <3—Carole The organ is loud because Ben is loud—PureAnon Erik is playing his pocket organ–Abberina It’s the phantom of the phantom of the opera—wheel-of-fish
Oh God now I have to count Organ mentions (>20) and everyone is going to judge me—Aldebaran
*What scent are the Phantom’s candles: Previously established in the official “Love That Lair” candle line, in addition to Vanilla Brown Sugar, Cucumber Melon, Tobacco Spice, Underground Despair, and Hopeless Mist, the newest entry unveiled for this stream was Sepulchral Solitude, a light and airy blend of ennui, nihilism and condensation, perfect for occasional bouts of midnight composing.
*The Phantom’s pillows mentions: 2
obligatory pillow mentions, they are a nice colour scheme–missbuster
Baritone Love Fest:
we! love! a baritone! phantom!—butdreamsofbeauty
Baritones are the best!–PureAnon
Yes!—JacobZ
Yes to baritones. To whatever they ask.—Aldebaran
baritones are incredible—angelofthelake
I like em big and boomy—Bozzleboz
yes they are—MelancholysChild
The deeper and boomier, the better—PureAnon
*Erik has Skillz:
Okay so Ben just flipped through about six alternate personalities in a single line, and that’s impressive—snows
his voice is like chocolate sauce—Benny-Lynne
His voice is so deep I wanna scuba dive in it—Benny-Lynne
The Swagger at Rest:
Sir must you spread your legs so—snows
snows yes he MUST—ashadeintheshade
nice stance—MelancholysChild
Oo. Manspreading—Bozzleboz
but like… the good kind–snows
Sweet Music’s Throne: Ben’s nascent aggression came out in his organ playing. The INSTRUMENT!
OMG HIS KNEES This is really funny to me—madamefaust
He is def using his knees a lot—christinegrrl
Oh he’s….trying to play the keyboard—missbuster
He’s putting his back into that organ playing, there—haunted-hideaway
he’s definitely a more aggressive phantom I think—wheel-of-fish
A good squat workout I guess?—christinegrrl
Lift with your knees man—haunted-hideaway
The key to being an organist is all in the lumbar–Jacobz
Ben’s stance remains a source of….let’s call it concern. Yes, concern:
He’s got good stance—ashadeintheshade
why are his legs SO far apart though—butdreamsofbeauty
because they’re so loooong—missbuster
power stance—MelancholysChild
is he riding an invisible horse?—jadowdra
And, inevitably, boner mentions: 5 (You know who you are. Good thing, because I was watching Ben.)
The Phantom is pleased to announce: boner mentions are ummm holding firm
Christine makes questionable choices:
oh she looked down—christinegrrl
she totally looked down and then bolted but let’s be real WHY RUN—snows
Boner-adjacent vocabulary:
Horny and variants (>17)
Lusty (2)
Organ—THE INSTRUMENT!! (>20)
Christine does not stan a crafty Phantom:
he’s doing so well then he has to bring Barbara into it—Virg’s mom
SEE? I MADE THIS FOR YOU?
OOPS
THAT DID NOT GO TO PLAN—haunted-hideaway
Strange Ships: The debut of a long overdue category highlighting all the really random ships that are proposed during a given stream.
Erik/RaoulBot—haunted-hideaway
Andre/Carlotta–????
Barbara/severed Hannibal head—????
Christine/Luigi—ashadeintheshade
Barbara/new and improved sexbot from LND—Onthevirg
RaoulBot/Barbara—DocTy {streamers were split here that Barbara shouldn’t settle versus OTP}
Yes, I know, it’s a great disservice to Barbara but still, maybe they can bond over replacement parts—DocTy
Only in this streams I walk away with either a new favourite actor, a fanfic recommendation and/or a new pairing to ship—Jadowdra
*Education of the Innocent: Several seminars were held this stream. First, a wide ranging and frank discussion of historically accurate ballet rats, pimping and ummm social diseases. We segued from a dissertation on our own Madame Giry as a probable pimp to the topic of the hierarchy of French Royalty. These topics heavily featured our resident history buffs therosenpants, angedelamusique, PureAnon and madamefaust, with varying degrees of participation in the pimping and social disease discussions. Second, a discourse on “the catch” and variations, the catch being allowed in London and not on Broadway due to union rules. A variant unknown to me, the “half catch” was mentioned. Third, a sadly eye-opening (for some) discussion of the “horsey dance”:
Look, Norm was directed to do the horsey dance. Anything is possible on Broadway.—madamefaust
sorry a HORSEY DANCE—butdreamsofbeauty
HORSEY DANCE???—onthevirg
horsey dance…??—angelofthelake
ah yes the ever classic jumping up and galloping horsey dance—madamefaust
It was more of a forceful trot during ‘Order your fine horses’ in Final Lair—madamefaust
faust you can’t just drop that in chat and not explain yikes—butdreamsofbeauty
someone link the gif—andgedelamusique
[fatefully the gif was linked]
thanks, I hate it!—butdreamsofbeauty
OH I thought that was a JOKE, that was REAL?—ashadeintheshade
oh noooo I saw that in like a compilation of funny phantoms and i thought it was a joke oh no—ashadeintheshade
The Horsey Dance claims more victims–Aldebaran
STYDI Sound effects:
[the Phantom collapses]
plorp—wheel-of-fish
plorp—MelancholysChild
Now I want to hear his palms squeak on the ground—madamefaust
I’m Jewish and I don’t approve of this level of ham Curse youuuuu—JacobZ
Prior to Il Muto the organ makes another appearance. The INSTRUMENT!!!:
Organ boop!—Bozzleboz
Organ again. Oh God now I said it.—Aldebaran
Aldebaran, you can’t escape the organ. The Phantom’s organ WILL find you.—PureAnon
this Erik is so extra he took the organist’s place in the orchestra—DocTy
Il Muto Pillow Mentions: 1
Fascinating discussion about which is worse/better, bad actors or boring actors:
It’s the old argument between what’s worse bad or boring—GlassPrism
is it better to burn out or fade away—wheel-of-fish
Is it more fun to watch an Uwe or a Thiago—GlassPrism
Thiago activates my RAGE setting.—madamefaust
AIAOY is never make me watch this again: Words cannot capture AIAOY. Nevertheless we tried. Here are selected comments.
EXECUTEEMPATHY2.0—missbuster
Maybe there is a rat driving him by his mustache like in Ratatouille. Raoultatouille.—missbuster
turn.her.90.degrees—Aldebaran
if she shakes him, I bet we can hear him rattle—DocTy
Raoul.exe has stopped working—christinegrrl
he bluescreened—butdreamsofbeauty
error 404—angelofthelake
can you even play Doom on this Raoul?—Jadowdra
Does he even like her?—madamefaust
He’s just staring into the abyss—angelofthelake
Why did no one tell him that wooing does not involve low-level dread—JacobZ
<10> no more talk of darkness GOTO20—snows
<20> forget these wide eyed fears GOTO30—snows
his wooing program has bugs–Aldebaran
YOU ARE NO BETTER THAN MY ARCH-ENEMY THIAGO–madamefaust
are they actually kissing?—madamefaust
now you must place your face upon her face and remain still—butdreamsofbeauty
this is depressing—virg’s lil sister
It’s more fun to suffer as a group—wheel-of-fish
Prevailing Theory:
The Phantom clearly switched Raoul with a mannequin—Maze-zen
Fondly Remembering Christian Lund during this AIAOY: 4
Fondly Remembering “the Boop” during this AIAOY: 5
*Requests for AIAOY Kiss replay: 0
Priorities Straight: Host Fish caller for dog pictures on her blog during the stream, resulting in the following mentions
Dogs (35, may need to be adjusted as one of Flora’s dogs is large enough to count as two), Goats (6), Cats (9), Rabbits (5), Chickens (3) Regular non-Cherik deer (1) Pig (1) Cherik deer (9) actual human children (1)
The Masquerade, or as some wags had it due to the mannequins on the staircase, the de Chagny family reunion:
Let’s see the robot try to dance—katarinajones
dance.exe—whereisthepersian
dance.exe failed to start—phantomofthebasement
He is going as a robot to the masquerade–Aldebaran
People gonna trip over his charging cable—whereisthepersian
Relief is the wrong emotion to feel when the Red Death arrives:
Why at a costume party is everyone afraid of a costumed man? How do they know to be scared? Do they hear the background music?—JacobZ
It’s his authoritative stance—madamefaust
Christine’s reaction maybe?—ktarinajones
I think they’re afraid he’s going to drop another chandelier on them. Which, valid.—madamefaust
They saw the bead work. They know who it is.—haunted-hideaway
*Sad comment is sad: commenting on the ornate bow on the score for Don Juan Triumphant
He wraps it up like the present he never received.—haunted-hideaway
*Fathering Gaze lyric: 1
*That staff tho:
“I’m going to a graveyard. I should take my shooty stick with the skull on it!”—haunted-hideaway
We passed the Point of No Return long ago. From the auction, in fact:
his accent, lol–ashadeintheshade
Accent—Bozzleboz
itsa me…—Aldebaran
ITSA HIM—madamefaust
I hate you all—wheel-of-fish
And Ben plays videogames backstage. His inspiration is literally Super Mario.—madamefaust
That was some nice cup stroking—GlassPrism
The Raoul Hole holds no dangers for Raoulbot:
Oh no he’s going to rust and shut down in the lake—wheel-of-fish
They spray him down and moisten him before he jumps in, otherwise he’ll just float on top—haunted-hideaway
Raoul’s wifi is down once more:
Is the boat stuck? Oh, there it goes—madamefaust
The radio signals running Raoul confused the boat—Aldebaran
The organ makes a return in Down Once More: The INSTRUMENT!!!!: 2
Veil Fluff Mentions: 2
he didn’t fluff the veil—ashadeintheshade
I like the veil fluff–ashadeintheshade
Veil Yeet Mentions: 11
The Kiss. An actual human kiss, unlike AIAOY:
ohhh he bends into the kiss—Aldebaran
Aw he’s TRYING to figure out how to kiss—Flora-Gray
He done touched a lady.—haunted-hideaway
That was a good kiss—Abberina
Bozzleboz breaks me, as the Phantom approaches hanging Raoul with a candle:
I burn him now, yes?–Bozzleboz
The Phantom breaks us:
oh god. He just broke me.—Bozzleboz
ohhhh poor angel—Aldebaran
aw erik :(–angeloflake
he’s so resigned:(–Benny-Lynne
we love an exhausted depressed sewer man—butdreamsofbeauty
This Phantom survives just so he can go disassemble Raoul—Aldebaran
Looks Like We Made It:
Time to go plug Raoulbot in for the night—angelofthelake
Performance Comparisons for Raoul/Career Suggestions for Raoul, You Decide:
Nutcracker—Aldebaran
Mannequin Bride—coroaline
Tin Man—christinegrrl, yiks
Edward Scissorhands—GlassPrism
Calculon from Futurama—IamErik771
C3PO—wheel-of-fish
Automaton—ktarinajones
Dalek–missbuster
Cardboard Cutout—haunted-hideaway
Hat Stand–Bozzleboz
*Things I wish I had said:
Christine in Final Lair: She has to go put Raoul in a bag of rice but she’ll be back—Benny-Lynne
*Statistician Aldebaran’s two favorite personal quotes:
little known fact, the red scarf is actually a fanbelt from Raoulbot
19 years on the score, 1 year on the bow
Phew! See you shortly with the By the Numbers of Moscow from LAST week!!! Aldebaran
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Hi, hope you're doing well! My friends and I (4-5 people usually) have been playing Ten Candles for the past few weeks as a get together, and we're looking to branch out as the Halloween season ends. I have a little list of ideas (systems like All Outta Bubblegum and Lasers and Feelings) but I feel like there are amazing systems I just don't know about. Would you have any suggestions? Thank you so much in advance!
Depends. Based on the examples you’ve given, I see two common threads:
Structured, scene-based play with a focus on resource management
Designed primarily for one-shot/zero prep sessions
Let’s take the first one (i.e., structured scenes and resource focus) as given just for the sake of narrowing the field. As for the second, were you interested in doing more one-shot games, or did you have something more suitable for longer campaigns in mind?
Assuming you want to stick to one-shot mode:
The Dance and the Dawn - A Gothic fairy tale romance concerning the unfortunate Ladies of Ash, come to the Ice Queen’s palace to court the enigmatic Lords of Ice. The players – who take on the roles of the Ladies – pursue their goal via tactical ballroom dancing, represented by pieces on a chess board. A good one to check out if you enjoy courtly politics, Byronic angst, and/or very unconventional mechanics. (And yes, the text explicitly permits female Lords of Ice, so you can totally play it gay.)
Fiasco – A collaborative, GMless game about people with big ambitious and extremely poor planning skills. You know that “the risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math” meme? This is that game. Uses semi-pregenerated scenarios called “Playsets” where the group randomly selects elements from a series of tables, then brainstorms the actual scenario based on those cues.
Henshin - If you’ve seen any of the various Power Rangers shows, you know what this is about. Rather than using dice, each playable archetype sets forth a slate of “strong” and “weak” moves, which either cost or yield tokens (respectively) when you work them into your narration. The website is currently in flux pending the release of a proper core rulebook early next year, thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign, but the original pay-what-you-want PDF remains available here.
Our Last Best Hope - A GMless game about a group of heroic scientists out to save the world from some huge existential threat, in the style of movies like Sunshine and The Core. Big on player mortality, to the point that even successfully averting the crisis usually results in a total party kill! An experienced group can shoot through a scenario in as little as two hours, though you’ll probably need at least twice as long when you’re starting out.
The Shab-al-Hiri Roach - A GMless, competitive game of campus politics in a small New England college town that’s been infested by a soul-eating telepathic cockroach from the dawn of civilisation. The GM role is replaced by several decks of print-and-play cards, representing both social opportunities and the mind-warping commandments of the Roach – the latter written in ancient Sumerian! (With English subtitles.)
Finally, The Storybrewers Free Game Library offers a number of great options for GMless one-shot play in both co-op and competitive modes. My personal favourites are To the Temple of Doom! (action archaeologists in the style of Indiana Jones and The Mummy) and Dynasty (good old-fashioned political backstabbery, where each player takes on the role of an entire faction rather than a single character).
As for titles focused on longer campaigns (or that just have sufficiently complicated rules and time-consuming prep that you’d need to spend several sessions learning the ropes before one-shot play is really feasible):
Blades in the Dark - Another game from the creators of Lasers & Feelings, this one about criminal gangs carrying off heists in a city where the sun never rises. Uses flashback mechanics to avoid getting bogged down in the planning stage, paired an in-depth downtime system for quickly sketching out what your characters get up to between capers. If grimdark isn’t your think, there’s also a very thinly disguised Star Wars hack called Scum & Villainy.
Good Society - This is Storybrewers’ flagship title, a GMless comedy of manners loosely inspired by the work of Jane Austen. You can run it in one-shot mode in theory, but the cycle of play is complex enough – there’s literally a letter-writing phase! – that even short scenarios are liable to stretch over multiple sessions when you’re just starting out, which is why I’m putting it in the “longer campaigns” bin.
Legacy: Life Among the Ruins - A generational post-apoc game where players takes on the roles of entire families (which can include cults, gangs or paramilitary groups as well as actual dynasties of blood). Each session, players “zoom in” and create members of their family to deal with a particular crisis; once it’s over, they “zoom out” and advance to the next generation. In this way, Legacy is like a serial one-shot game: you never play the same character twice, but all of your characters are tied together by your family’s history.
Mythender - This one’s elevator pitch is simple: what if everybody was Kratos from God of War? A good one for players who enjoy rolling great thundering handfuls of dice, which you’ll need rather a lot of. Included in the “longer campaigns” list for much the same reason as Good Society – i.e., you need a fair amount of experience with the system to get through more than a handful of scenes in a session of any reasonable length.
Polaris: Chivalric Tragedy at Utmost North - A fairy tale tragedy about heroic knights doomed to betray their people and die alone and forgotten. This one’s basically the opposite of GMless: it uses a rotating protagonist framework whereby each scene effectively has one player and many GMs! Other standout features include the use of ritual phrases for conflict resolution, with dice being used only if an irresovable impasse arises. Fair warning: wants exactly four players.
With Great Power - A superhero RPG that concerns itself with emulating the narrative structure of superhero comics, rather than merely simulating their settings. More of a guided collaborative writing exercise than a game per se, with the dice being used primarily to determine the tone of the narration rather than to resolve success or failure at particular tasks.
I’m going to limit this post to half-a-dozen plugs in each category so as not to go on forever; if anything I’ve touched on especially grabs your attention, let me know and I’ll see what else I can come up with along similar lines.
(Oh, and since the question always comes up: of the cited games, Mythender, The Shab-al-Hiri Roach and everything in the Storybrewers’ library apart from Good Society are free, and Henshin is currently pay-what-you-want.)
#gaming#tabletop roleplaying#tabletop rpgs#tabletop rpg recommendations#violence mention#death mention#insects mention#littlelionkai
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Perfect Imperfection (3)
Perfect Imperfection| part three (final)
Characters: Jaemin x female lead, Chenle x female lead (the girl will go by the name of Aeri)
Genre: fluff, angst, writer!au, highschool!au
Word count: 5.9 K
Summary: Aeri is a the teenager who writes. Finding inspiration in anything surrounds her, her ideas go wild once she meets the perfect character, Na Jaemin. As a writer becomes obsessive with their favourite character, Aeri grows a weird passion for the bright boy. However, she's so focused on painting Jaemin as perfectly as possible, that she ignores the furry of fiery hair that takes her to night walks and shows her secret places around the town. Despite knowing everything, she forgets that playing with fire means getting burnt. And that sometimes, when we remember to stop, it's too late.
part one 》part two 》part three
There is one thing I might never understand about Zhong Chenle: how even though I am used to analyzing people in silence and figuring out by myself which type of character they are in this big story called life, I haven't figured out who he really is, despite the fact that I've known him for a while now.
And this confusion sticks with me even as he leads me back in the coffee shop we left a few minutes ago.
"Why are we here again?" I ask as he gestures me to sit at the same table, near the window.
I do so, moving quite slowly and trying to figure out why he's doing this.
"I'm sorry." He says but his face didn't look as sorrowful as his words.
"Maybe." I wave him off, slightly annoyed at the memory of his words.
"But," he continues "as the lucky soul who got to peek through your notebook, I must let you know stuff."
I look at him, my eyebrows furrowed in both annoyance and confusion.
"Such as?"
"Such as the fact that you're being obvious and the only reason why the others haven't figured out you have something for Jaemin is because they're close to both of you. It's easy for me though." He shrugs.
"No, the only reason why you know that is because you read it." I snap but he looks unfazed.
He blinks a few times as if I was shooting bullets at him but he was melting them all.
"Why Jaemin?" He asks and I look at him for quite a few seconds before saying:
"You're unbelievable... thought you've figured out I never let anybody ever get in my business when it comes to writing."
He shrugs again.
"I have," he says "but I think I might help you."
"I don't need your help, Chenle." I say but my voice comes out softer than I wanted it to.
"Maybe." He smiles. "But if you're only ever going to write Jaemin's portrayal, you won't ever get a story done... stories need action, right?"
I don't say anything, too annoyed at his control over the situation to come up with any kind of witty remark.
"He needs to make you feel in some certain way for you to be able to write about him... those shivers that you feel whenever he smiles at you are far from enough, honey."
I frown at the last word but as I let my brain process the information, I realize that deep down, he's right. All I have been doing has been writing about Jaemin and creating fake scenarios in my head that never seemed to actually be good enough to be written.
"So what do you suggest?" I ask trying to sound uninterested.
He smiles and I realize I didn't sound enough uninterested.
"Well, we can start with his dark-like-night coffee," he says "so you can get in the mood, you know?"
***
Weeks and months pass like this, my encounters with Chenle being more and more frequent, to the point Hyuck asked me if there was something going on between us. There wasn't. Little did everybody know how big of a help Chenle was to me in writing about the story of Jaemin's character. He was telling me stuff that the older boy was saying at the basketball trainments and little gestures of his, but he was also discretely pinching me whenever my starring was too obvious while we hung out together. The other day, we exchanged notes during class and I was trying so hard to contain my laughter as I was really close to getting detention. He's also made a habit out of sending me memes at ungodly hours, ruining my sleeping schedule, but they were so funny that I couldn't regret it.
Walking out of school, I bump into somebody taller than me, making me slightly stumble backwards.
"I'm so sor-... Jaemin?" I say as I look at the hazelnut-haired boy who looked just as surprised as I was.
We haven't had the chance to see each other in a while and I was genuinely happy to see him now, my heart jumping in my chest, like a bird in a cage. We end up going for coffee as it was almost weekend and none of us had too many assignments to do. We order the usual, hot chocolate for me and iced americano with 2.5 extra shots of espresso for Jaemin- drink which, by the way, tasted even more bitter than it looked like.
We chat for a while, more like making conversation than actually talking about important things, maybe that was also because I was too aware of his presence and of the way the warm lights in the coffee shop made his eyes sparkle.
"Aeri, there's something I wanted to ask you." He says at some point. "I've been thinking about this and I think you're the perfect person to ask for help from... that, of course, if you want to."
"Go ahead." I say, gesturing him to say whatever he has to say.
He shifts a bit in his seat, something a bit unusual for Jaemin, but I let it slide.
"My mom is having this fancy relatives and close friends reunion at our house next weekend and she asked me to bring a friend... she meant to bring my girlfriend, but since I don't have one..."
"So you want me to be your fake girlfriend for a day?" I ask, a bit taken aback by his idea.
He gives me one of his charming smiles and I mentally curse at him for being so annoyingly attractive and for making my heart flutter this much.
"Uh... yeah." He says. "But it's completely fine if you don't want to, it's a stupid idea anyway, I should've-..."
"I'll do it." I say, avoiding my gaze. His mouth goes slightly agape but he slightly shakes his head, in order to get back to his senses.
"Have you just said you...?"
I chuckle my anxiety away.
"Yeah, it's not big deal anyway." I smile.
It is, actually. A huge deal.
"That's... that's great!" He smiles, his face lighting up once again. "I can't thank you enough, Aeri."
"Nah, that's alright." I smile. "So, how fancy should I dress?"
***
A fun fair was the last place I expected we'd go to when Chenle texted me he'd pick me up in 10 minutes. Yet here we were, my notebook stuffed in my bag alongside some pens and a bottle of water. I didn't really like this kind of places but I didn't want to let Chenle know it, he seemed too excited and for once, I didn't want to ruin that.
After a few rides on Chenle's favourite machines, he gets us a double sized cotton candy, both of us deciding it was time to simply sit on a bench and catch our breath. I open my notebook and write down a few words about how fascinated the roller coaster rides made me feel but how I regret screaming the whole time because now my throat was sore. It wasn't that bad. However, I was far from enjoying this whole thing as much as Chenle. The sparks in his eyes seemed to shine even brighter than the colourful neon lights in the amusement park and that was such a pretty sight to see.
"So," he begins, stuffing a piece of pink cotton candy in his mouth "how do you feel?"
I shrug as I write some words in my notebook.
"I don't really know, I think the last ride has brainwashed me." I say and he laughs, some people walking by turning their heads towards the fiery-haired boy.
Because even his laugh was brighter than the whole park.
"Such a shame." He shakes his head. "Did you like it though?"
"Enough much to make me write some pretty cool stuff in here." I say pointing towards my notebook.
He smiles fondly and I feel sparkles of happiness fluttering in my chest at the sight of his bright smile. I should've grown used to it by now, I get to see it every time he takes me places, it's like he's my personal guide (even though the furthest we've been was some opening in the close proximity of our town) and he enjoys his job so much. But I can't seem to get used to how happy these trips make me feel. I note down some words, slowly drifting away from the reality surrounding me. However, Chenle's words make their way to me, making me flinch slightly.
"Have you decided on his name?" He asks and I smile.
"Yeah," I answer "Jem... it's pretty much short from Jaemin but you can also take it as 'gem' which makes me think of bright lights and sparkles and... basically Jaemin..."
A small smile makes its way up to my lifs as I lower my head, as if trying to hide from Chenle, but there was nothing to hide anymore.
"That's a nice idea." I hear him saying. "I guess it can work."
I nod.
"Thanks... you know, you're really helping me a lot in all of this."
It's his turn to nod, with a sweet smile plastered on his lips.
"Yeah," he whispers after I no longer pay attention to him "I guess I am."
***
"You did what?"
"I know you've heard it from the first time and I would sincerely appreciate if you guys stopped acting like deaf grandpas." I say folding my arms over my chest. "Plus it's not such a big deal."
"Yeah, it's only for a day." Yeji adds from the other corner of the room.
"Wait, you knew?" Jeno asks turning to her but she simply shrugs.
"You're still coming to the study night, right?" Chenle asks and I cam literally feel myself mentally face palming in that moment.
"N-no, Chenle, I'm so so sorry! It's at the same night with Jaemin's..."
"That's okay." He says simply and for a while, the thought that he's not mad soothes me.
Chenle is never mad.
"You guys are acting all shocked when the poor girl is meeting Nana's family and she has nothing to wear." Yeji rolls her eyes and I chuckle, despair clearly written across Jeno's face.
"Please don't tell me-"
"Hell yeah, we're going shopping." Yeji smiles devilishly and I can basically see Jeno's soul leaving his body like in the cartoons.
"And you guys are coming." I add, looking at Jeno, Chenle and Renjun, all of them looking devastated by the flash news that we're going to the mall.
"Actually... I can't, I have something else to do for the rest of the day... " Chenle says.
"Oh no, Zhong, you're not running away." Yeji says standing up but he smiles and for a second, I see a dash of exhaustion on his face.
But Chenle is never exhausted.
"It's not like that, Yeji. I'm sorry, I'll see you guys, later."
And with that, he leaves the gym, silence floating in the air for a few seconds, maybe because none of us has ever seen Chenle being so serious. So unlike his usual self.
And then it clicks to me. Chenle is never mad. He is silent. And when Zhong Chenle is silent, the end of the world might as well be close.
***
The fancy party was far from being what I had expected, the atmosphere was far from being as dense as I'd thought it would be. Jaemin's mom was a sweetheart and her eyes sparkled with happiness when she saw me, almost the same way as Jaemin's eyes light up when he's excited about something. The other guests were actually really nice and so unlike the gossip-lover kind of old people that I had imagined.
One of mrs. Na's friends excused herself in order to answer a call while we were talking about the career as a novelist (fun fact: she was miss Kang's aunt and she seemed to share the passion for writing with her niece) and Jaemin suddenly showed up near me, making me slightly flinch.
"Everything alright?" He asks and I nod with a genuine smile on my face.
"To be honest I didn't really expect to enjoy this evening so much." I say.
He smiles and looks at me with his warm glimmering eyes and for a second time seems to stop and the background music, the chatter and the laughter seem to fade away.
"Aw look at them, they're so cute together!" I hear the lady I was talking to earlier saying.
Another woman which I recognize as being Jaemin's grandmother stares at us in awe and I feel my cheeks heating up. I smile awkwardly as I feel Jaemin's hand sneaking up over my shoulders and pulling me closer to him, breath hitching in my throat.
"Yeah, she's the cutest." He says smiling and I slowly lift my head to look at him, searching for any kind of humour on his face.
Did he really say that? Or was I dreaming?
He looks down at my face and the closeness of our faces makes my eyes slightly widen. Maybe he figures it out, because a sweet grin makes its way up to his lips and I feel my cheeks getting hot once again.
"Excuse us for a second..." Jaemin says without taking his eyes off me and pulls me by my left wrist towards the backyard of his house.
We leave the ladies chuckling and giving each other suggestive looks and honestly, I wasn't so sure how I was feeling about that. Once we arrive in the backyard, he lets go of my wrist and looks at me with the same sweet smile that made my knees turn to jelly a few minutes ago. However, I decide to gather up my courage and stand tall because my walls couldn't be broken down so easy, so fast. I needed my cover to be able to write about him. I needed to keep myself in the position of the observer. I couldn't step in the action or things could've gone bad.
"What was that about?" I ask crossing my arms over my chest.
His smile widens as he steps closer to me.
"What did you want it to be?" He asks in a lower tone and my eyes slightly widen again.
This is not Jem. Jem would never act like this.
He chuckles at the sight of my face.
"Nothing, don't worry, Aeri." He says smiling. "There's somebody I don't wanna hurt."
"Whom?" I ask confused.
His smile fades slightly, a glint of surprise crossing his face.
"Somebody who cares deeply about you." He smiles.
I shake my head after my brain proceeds his words.
"No way, Jem, Jeno is my best friend-..."
"I wasn't talking about him." He still smiles, despite the seriousness of the conversation and I can't help but mentally curse at him for making me feel so torn.
Who could possibly care about me so deeply that me and Jaemin being a thing could hurt them?
"Why did you bring me here?" His smile widens once again and he looks at the ground for a second, before looking into my eyes once again.
"To thank you. Like really thank you, if you weren't here, I would probably be sitting in the living room and listening to my uncle's stories about his first car."
I laugh.
"That's alright, I'll always be here if you need anything." I smile.
He shakes his head.
"You shouldn't." He says with a tint of bitterness in his voice.
"Why is that?" I ask.
He looks at me for a few seconds, giving me enough time to admire his perfect features.
"Children, we're serving the cake now!" Jaemin's mom says from behind us and I flinch in surprise.
"We're coming!" Jaemin gestures her and I look at him, disappointed that I might never get my answer.
Sensing that, he simply smiles again.
"Take care of yourself, Aeri."
He says before we get in the house once again.
***
"It was insane. Honestly. I didn't know he would be so similar to the way I created Jem. It was ethereal, the way he looked screamed prince, I swear..." I say as I lay tiredly in my bed, a long sigh leaving my mouth. "And his mom was a total sweetheart, her cooking skills were incredible, for real. I wonder if Jaemin is as good at cooking as his mother. That would certainly be a huge plus to his character to be honest."
The boy sitting on my desk chair doesn't say anything and I roll in my bed to look at him.
"Don't you think so?" I ask as I hug one of my pillows.
The fiery-haired boy looks at me, his eyes lacking the usual glint of happiness that they always seemed to hold. Maybe he was tired after a day of school, as I was too.
"I guess." He sighs. "If it was good enough to make you write, that's nice."
"Yeah, it was... but like, it was more than enough," I say. "I didn't feel like I was playing a role, I felt like I belonged there."
"Don't lose yourself in the story, Aeri." He says on a concerned tone and I sit in my bed, legs crossed, still holding my pillow.
"I won't, but this..." I begin "this is no longer a story, Chenle, this is my reality, Jaemin might-..."
"No, Jem might, Aeri... not Jaemin." He says while standing up. "You have been so obsessed with writing about Jaemin that you forgot which version is real."
"I... didn't forget, what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the fact that you should probably stop thinking about Jaemin as your superhero, because he's not Jem." He sighs.
"But-..."
"There is nothing dramatic about Jaemin for you to romanticize, okay?" He says, with a glint of exhaustion in his eyes.
"I'm not romanticizing anything, just because I like Jaemin, it doesn't mean I-..." I stop in midsentence when I realize what I've just said.
Despite the fact that I should be comfortable around Chenle, somehow this topic seems sensitive and definitely not a good choice to talk about now.
"You're not in love with Jaemin, Aeri." He says with bitterness. "You're in love with a lie."
I frown and stand up, crossing arms over my chest.
"And you're saying this because you know so much about how love works." I snap back and he simply shrugs, picking up his back-pack.
"Not your problem." He mutters.
"Hey... hey, I thought you'd at least understand if I told you I had feelings for Jaemin!" I say, feeling rage taking over me at the sudden change in his behavior.
Chenle never rises his voice. Chenle is never grumpy. Chenle is never exhausted. When he is mad, he is silent. Or ignorant. He stops in his tracks and for a second I feel like I might've said the wrong thing, which has never happened to me before around him.
"You thought wrong." He says. "I don't understand you at all."
"Do you really think-..." But before I can finish my question, Chenle leaves my room with big steps, without paying attention to my words.
"Chenle, wait-..." I run after him but before I can catch up, I hear the entrance door slamming and I know he's already gone.
I scream in frustration, as if it could bring him back. He won't come back, I know that for some reason. However, I can't help but be bothered by what has just happened between us because it felt unfair to me. He was unfair to me. He was supposed to support me in this, not tell me what I feel and what I don't.
And maybe there was something more than frustration, something that I didn't want to admit to myself, because I simply didn't want to feel like a bitch, something that made me fall on my knees and cry after my throat went dry from so much screaming. It felt like I'd lost Chenle. But it felt like I had lost a part of myself as well.
***
A few weeks have passed and to be honest, the one I've spent my time the most with has been Donghyuck. Jeno was busy with Yeji since they were (finally) officially dating, Renjun was traveling somewhere in Europe for a school exchange and there was no way I could talk to Chenle. I simply couldn't. Jaemin's mom invited me over for dinner tonight and I felt terrible that I had to decline. It wasn't that I didn't want to go, it was just that I couldn't bring myself to do it, I was feeling guilty for some reason.
That's why I asked Jaemin to meet me after classes today.
"I'm so sorry." I say, looking at the steaming hot chocolate in front of me.
"Don't worry about it." Jaemin smiles. "Mom will understand, that's literally the last thing you should be thinking about now."
I sigh and take a sip from my hot chocolate, hissing when it burns my tongue.
"Are you okay?" I hear Jaemin asking and I wave it off.
"It's just a burn, not even that bad." I mutter.
He chuckles with a spark of bitterness, only making my feeling of guilt grow.
"I wasn't talking about that." He smiles. "I was talking about how you feel."
I look at him, trying to ignore the pang in my chest and the constant feeling that I'm suffocating. I should be alright, I should be happy that I get to hang out with Jaemin. So why am I not?
"Jaemin, why... why did you say that I shouldn't be there for you?" I ask and his smile doesn't even fade.
"Because -..." He pauses and sighs, thinking.
"I... like you." I say out of the blue and I avoid my gaze, without necessarily waiting for a response. "Or at least, that's what... I think..."
I hear him sighing and I look at him once again.
"My mom used to tell me" he begins "that she fell in love with dad because he made her feel alive." He smiles and averts his gaze, looking out of the window of the café for a few seconds.
Then, he looks at me again.
"That's the definition that I've had about love my whole life... and I've started to believe in it more and more lately. But Aeri..."
He gives me one of his sweet smiles, but this time, it is filled with concern.
"...I don't think I'm the one who makes you feel alive."
And that was when I realized that truly, he was not. Because I wasn't sad that I'd been turned down.
I was thankful.
***
Today was the first day of judging for the writing contest and I was disappointed to see that none of the works that I've been given to judge was even close to my expectations. Renjun had warned me that none of the contestants would come close to my talent, but I laughed it off, asking him to stop with the sweet talk. My expectations weren't high, they were decent, but nothing seemed to get me interested. Nothing seemed to make me want to read further and so the whole time felt dull to me.
"I'm seriously going to hit you with a basketball if you keep zoning out any longer." I hear Hyuck saying and I sigh.
"Sorry, I was just... thinking." I say.
"Yeah, I know, the same way you have been doing for the past 16 days, 12 hours and... almost 37 minutes." He says checking his smartwatch.
I roll my eyes and sigh once again.
"I have to finish marking the essays for the writing contest by Thursday and I'm so not in the mood for that." I mutter closing my eyes in exhaustion.
I have been unable to write anything worth reading ever since I fought with Chenle and somehow, everything I've been doing ever since then feels wrong and incomplete. All I can do is focus on judging for the writing contest, even though I couldn't find a real motivation for that anymore either.
"Aeri?" I turn my head to my right and see miss Kang looking at me with her warm smile.
She was wearing a blue silk dress, her dark hair falling nicely in waves on her shoulders. Miss Kang was one of the nicest people I'd ever met and one of the only people ever who could understand my passion for writing. That was one of the reasons why I loved her.
"Oh, hello, miss!" I say standing up from my desk, slightly stumbling on my feet.
"Careful there." She chuckles. "Okay so I believe you're close to finishing your marking these days, but I wanted to show you this essay that came in my set. I'm not pressuring you or anything, I just you to mark this one too. I guess you'll figure out why I'm asking you to do this too. Is that alright with you?" She asks handing me a paper, probably a copy of the essay she has mentioned.
"Of course." I nod, taking the paper.
"That's great." She says smiling widely. "I'll see you later!"
She leaves the class as smoothly as she has entered and as soon as she does that, Donghyuck tries to snatch the paper from my hands.
"No way, nobody is reading these outside the judges, sweetie." I tell him and he rolls his eyes in annoyance.
"Fine, dumbass, as you say..."
The curiosity makes me unable to wait until I get home so after my English class, I take the paper from my backpack and unfold it, taking in the amount of words scribbled on the paper, with a handwriting that felt awfully familiar to me.
"If we run fast enough, maybe time won't be able to catch up with us..."
I lose myself in the words of the essay, being weirdly intrigued by every single line, unlike anything that I had read before while judging.
"...there are so many ways we can see the world and we don't even need to choose one, everyday is a new chance to rewrite it all from a new point of view. We can be whatever we want to be..."
It was speaking to me, weirdly, it felt like it was written for me, I could feel it on a different level and that was scaring me more than anything. Every word, every line, every feeling put on this paper, it all felt familiar. As if I've experienced it too.
"...but after all, we're just going on roller coaster rides, where lights blend and everything shines, where problems fade and we almost lose ourselves. That's alright- because even though the thrill will wash away her memory of me, her eyes will still sparkle. And that's enough, because like that, even time would stop to admire her beauty."
I stare at the piece of paper in my shaking hands, trying to run away from the realization that was becoming clearer and clearer in my head. The handwriting, the lines, the way all the words seemed to be made to be put together like that. It was perfect. But the essay was talking about so much imperfections that lives, our lives had in common. It was a twisted combination of feelings and memories and wild nights spent in funfairs and aquariums, in cafes and libraries, nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
I stand up, taking my back-pack and heading home. I had to finish marking essays and I had to do that now.
***
"Miss, I am sorry, but I can't grade this essay." I say showing miss Kang the paper she gave me a few days ago.
She smiles and not even the cold lights from the empty classroom we were in could take her warmth away.
"I won't ask why. I was actually more curious about your opinion on it, compared to the rest of the essays."
I look at her in exasperation, then at the damned piece of paper.
"It's good.... Actually, no, it's..." I sigh "It's more than good, it's amazing, it speaks so fluently and it shows so many feelings that the reader might even feel like part of it all, it takes you in, casting a spell on your mind and when you finish it, it spits you back to the reality and it just... breaks your heart..." I say, my voice cracking at the end, but miss Kang chooses to ignore it, nodding in agreement instead.
"I asked you to read this because the other judges and I have been thinking to give this essay the first place." She explains. "So what do you think?"
I feel tears stinging my eyes. Experiences that I have felt, things I have been through, put on paper, are getting the first place.
"I-I guess that's the best choice..."
"Aeri?"
I look at her and she smiles sadly.
"Do you know the other reason why I asked you to read this?" She asks softly and I shake my head. "It's because... I saw a small part of you in it, a tint of your writing style in it, a spark of your aura. Something... something that made me believe you'd connect with this better than anybody."
I turn my head away in order to wipe my tears away. The pain in my chest was almost suffocating and all I wanted to do was run home and cry my eyes dry under a blanket.
"I think I was right." She says and I sniff slightly, trying to ignore the effect that the essay has had over me.
And it wasn't just the essay. It was its owner as well.
I find myself walking towards the basketball pitch, hoping that I could find whoever I was looking for. If I was in love with Jaemin, my heart wouldn't hurt this much right now. If I had feelings for anybody else, I wouldn't feel like somebody ripped my chest open. How could I be wrong, how could I possibly be wrong, when I am so used to analyzing everybody around me and foresee all the possible cases? How could I lie to myself like this?
A basket ball rolls down to my feet and I pick it up, looking in front of me, only to be met with the sight of a mess of a fiery hair, staring back at me. I feel tears stinging my eyes and I step towards him, leaving only two steps between him and I. After inhaling deeply, I throw him the ball and he catches it perfectly, with his incontestable basketball skills. He dribbles it a few times and I could've sworn my heart was beating almost as loud as the thumps of the ball.
"Why did you write that?" I ask silently, trying to look into his eyes.
He wasn't confused. He knew all too well what I was talking about and that only made more tears gather behind my eyes. I knew I couldn't be wrong. Not this time. Not regarding this.
"I felt like it." He answers, shrugging and I feel like screaming, frustrated at the fact that he can control his emotions so well, unlike me.
"You felt like it? You f-felt like it, Chenle?" I let out a small whimper. "You wrote about all of that just because you felt like it?"
He shrugs and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I was the wrong one and still I was the one asking for explanation from him when it should be the other way.
"I... Miss Kang asked me to read your essay because she thought it's the best one out of the whole competition. She asked me to grade it. I... I couldn't." I sigh. "Maybe I'm selfish to find myself in it so much but... I do? All the late night walks and evenings spent in fun fairs or reading comics on the floor of the library... we d-did that, didn't we? We did all of those, hell we did much more... w-why couldn't I understand earlier..."
"You confessed to Jaemin." He speaks and my eyes widen.
Of course Jaemin told him.
"There was... nothing to confess." I say softly. "I thought I had feelings for him, but... I guess you were right. It has never been him."
He looks at me and sighs, before diverting his gaze.
"Look, Aeri, it's really not my business, I shouldn't have said those things,but..." He sighs, shaking his head. "Thank you for reading my essay-..."
"Chenle!"
He looks at me, a little bit startled by my loud voice.
"A-All this time..." I start "it has been you." I sniff. "Not Jaemin, not Jem, not any other imaginary prince charming, not anybody else. It has always been just you. You... make me feel so happy and... and alive... I have always taken you for granted and realized how important you were to me just after you left... B-Because I'm freaking stupid a-and... all I know is to create scenarios in my head and drown in them until I can no longer tell what's fantasy and what's real."
He looks at me but I can't figure out his expression because of the amount of tears in my eyes.
"I am s-so sorry, Chenle." I try to say but my voice comes out as a whisper. “You have all t-the rights to hate m-me...”
"I wrote that because you inspire me to always do better and never give up on my dreams, you... you work so hard for yours and you..." he lets out a heavy breath. "You make me feel. Everything. I think... that's how I could write that essay, I was thinking about you the whole time. All the feelings that I put in it... you made me feel them. Aeri..."
I look at him, quickly wiping the tears that were rolling on my cheeks already.
"I'm in love with you."
I feel myself taking a deep breath and letting out the sobs that I have swallowed for so long. I feel two arms engulfing me into a warm hug and the familiar scent of soap and mint taking over my senses. I bury my head in Chenle's chest as he caresses my back gently as if I was a frightened cat. I wasn't far from being one though.
"Is it that bad?" He asks gently and I chuckle but it comes out more as a chocked sob and Chenle laughs.
Loud, bright, genuinely. Exactly how I love him.
"Okay gross, you're ruining his T-shirt, crybaby." I hear Hyuck saying behind me and my friends' laughter following after.
"You're next, fucker!" I say in a dry voice and Chenle laughs once again.
He was not perfect. He was far from being perfect. But somehow all the imperfections that were part of him made him be perfect in my eyes. He was more than what I deserved to get and I was more than thankful to the heavens for dragging him into my life. I had always tried to be perfect, to write, to act, to speak perfectly. But he has showed me that there's beauty in imperfection. There is perfection in imperfection.
And he is the living proof for that.
~The End~
A/N: It’s been SO long, I am so sorry! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this lil story. Thank you so much for reading it, it really means a lot to me!♥ I would like to write short stories like this one in the future as well, what would you guys want to read about?
hailene x
#nct fanfic#NCT#nctdream#nct angst#jaemin#chenle#Jeno#renjun#JISUNG#kpop#highschool#haechan#donghyuck#fanfiction#angst#writer#au
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HEAR ME OUT: PARIS HILTON INSPIRED ME TO GO TO ART SCHOOL
HEAR ME OUT: PARIS HILTON INSPIRED ME TO GO TO ART SCHOOL AND BECOME A FILMMAKER.
My sister and I played it cool until my parents dark purple grand caravan left the driveway. We knew we had to conceal our excitement of being home alone for a few hours in order to not seem suspicious. It was our chance to watch whatever trash was on television that day without the normal censorship our parents had set on us. My mother strived to win the gold medal for being a helicopter parent and my dad just agreed with whatever she said. Somehow we were always a step ahead of them. There was a vast lack of communication within my household which lead me to crave answers and sneak around to get them.
We really made a day of it. We pulled our big fluffy comforters off our beds and brought them to the couch, gathered every unhealthy snack from our cabinet (which was difficult as my mother kept a strict, low carb, low sodium, no sugar menu to chose from in our house) and hung heavy blankets over the windows to block out the glare on the 30 inch Panasonic VHS combo unit. My older sister, Cate, had control over the remote, she knew which channel number MTV played on and she memorized the Parental Control Password that was set on various channels that aired the exact rubbish it was to protect us from, but quickly became our favorite shows. At the time I didn’t even really know how Cate found out these shows existed. Our amount of media consumption was little to none. Living in a tiny town in Pennsylvania, attending private Christian school and hardly having a social life; our only connection to whats out there
would be the local blockbuster that my mother skirted us in and then quickly out of after renting wholesome family movies. I remember slipping away from my moms watch just long enough to find the “1 Night in Paris” sex tape DVD that was made in 2004 with Rick Salomon (who by the way has been married to Pamela Anderson TWICE!) and Paris Hilton as the star. A few years later, The Simple Life, featuring Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie became a huge success for Fox and was later taken over by E! network. The glimpse of the DVD cover was so scandalous I felt guilty just for looking at it. We were a few years late, really just catching the reruns of the show that E!, MTV or VH1 would play during the middle of the day, but we ate it up nonetheless.
The first episode I ever watched was on Season 5. The two girls become camp counselors and every week a different theme and set of campers come in to encounter their shenanigans. This episode was “Fat Camp” and the first order of business was for Paris and Nicole to give the campers enema’s before they start their week of dieting and exercise. It was absolutely ridiculous. I felt bad that these campers who fell victim to their bratty comments, yet my sister and I couldn’t take our eyes off it. Reality TV works in that way you know, where you feel bad, but not bad enough because its not your life.
Soon Cate and I started adding other reality shows to our pallet of rebellion. The Girls Next Door, a reality show about Hugh Hefner’s girlfriends living in the Playboy Mansion. Real World Cancun, AKA Jersey Shore before there was Jersey Shore. And of course The Hills where Lauren Conrad and Heidi Montag live it up in Orange County, a place I
thought was made up until I visited there in 2014. But the Simple Life remained my favorite of them all. But Paris Hilton was my first glimpse of glamour, so she always remained my favorite. Granted, Kim Kardashian has seemed to surpass her on many levels after starting out as her intern. And sure maybe Paris is an heiress who will never run out of money or resources and people behind her, producing her, but Miss Hilton found a savvy way to brand herself right at the pinnicale of the internet and she still had to work for it. As a filmmaker I am hyper aware of the way we consume media, which is why I’ve taken such an interest to Paris and this manipulation she had turned into an art form.
Before we go on, in case you don’t know how Paris got famous, I’m here to give you a brief backstory. Paris Hilton, heiress to the Hilton Hotels empire, was actually raised a lot like me. Her parents were strict. She wasn’t allowed to wear makeup or have much of a social life. I believe her parents knew what kind of name she bared and the harsh reality that could come with it, so they kept her on a tight leash. Despite their efforts to keep her tame she slipped away, out into the world long enough to meet famous photographer David LaChapelle, who became enamored with Paris and her sister Nicky, and insisting he take their photo. She knew it was highly against her parents rules to engage in that kind of activity but she went for it. He designed an elaborate set and costumes for them and they went ahead naively thinking the photos would be just for them to admire in private but were later were published in a 2001 Vanity Fair issue, getting her in a whole lot of trouble. She later had to turn down and offer to do Playboy because her parents would disinherit her. By the time she was 18 her career as a model
and professional partier could really take off. Paris became absolutely obsessed with fame. She came up with a formulated routine on how to grab the paparazzi’s attention. She would find all the places photographers would be hanging out that day and go to every single location just to be seen and her plan really seemed to work. She was the bright and shining star of every tabloid in America. She describes in the documentary film, “American Meme” how desperate she was, spending hours searching for a place with someone, anyone to take her picture no matter what it took. Her paparazzi access seemed responsible for Paris to become a household name. — add on?
We have to remember that this time, 2007-2009, was a turning point, as smart phones and blackberries were now in almost every American’s pocket and we were craving the tea more than ever. Tabloids started working around the clock to deliver us the latest scoop at the now possible all hours of the day; i.e. the tragedies of Amy Whinehouse, LiLo and her drug escapades, Britney Spears and her hairless melt down, the list goes on. We asked for it, we got it and kept asking for more. After Paris sought out these outlets, the offers poured in. Her own show, movie roles, modeling for brand name designers, she became a DJ, became an author, a business woman, a fashion designer she owns hotels in Dubai and is currently carrying a hefty 10.5 million instagram follower count.
I know what you’re thinking, like okay so who cares about this rich “bimbo” (dubbed courtesy of a New York Post article circa 2007) but just hear me out. Most of us can relate to her story and if not, at least to some of her tactics. What I grew to realize after becoming social media obsessed (possibly because I was deprived as a child) is that
no matter how information changes or what new technology comes to pass it along to us, we will always be doing it in the same way. I watched Myspace come and pass, seeing thousands of singers, bands and actresses get discovered through that site, even some playmates in Playboy magazine. I saw Facebook allow us to put every single thing about our lives on blast at any minute of the day. Twitter allows us to barf our thoughts up in once 180, now 280 characters, Vine stars made 6 seconds videos and now make 6 figures from their fame and last but not least Instagram, and trust me when I say I cringe having to say this, “influencers” sell to us with every photo or video they post. Whether that be a lifestyle, a product or just themselves as a person. A vast majority of us have to admit that we are drinking the juice. We ourselves are partaking in marketing our “best life” being lived via Instagram. So ask yourself, what is the difference between what we are doing on the Gram versus what Paris was doing in 2006, showcasing her persona to the media in the only way it was accessible at the time? Why not manipulate it the same way it manipulates us? Find out where the quote on quote Paparazzi are and market yourself the same way reality stars did.
Not that I have the intention to come up in the same way some of these heiresses who’s names are already famous or these vine stars or twitter comedians did but I have the power to show a portion of the world who I am and what I can do to earn my career as a filmmaker and communicator via social media.
I realized that what I was doing as a little kid, waiting for my parents to leave to seek a world outside my own is exactly what Paris did. She took the risk and got the answers.
Her obsession with fame coincided with my obsession with social media, to communicate and or get my work out there. I’m just trying to work system to brand myself. My research shows that the reality show we down load from an app store and place in our pockets has led me to some big wins. Upon getting hired for shoots or my work recognized in some way, I see there is a formula to the entire thing. When to post, how to post, who to follow, etc. I have no producers behind me to curate my Instagram, I have no connection to someone with a big name. All I have is myself to show for what I can do and if I keep going back to the place with the most access to the loudest voices , like Paris did I may have a shot at getting my own voice out there and I will say more important things than “thats hot” I promise you.
In the end I think that the reason I clung to Paris and her story so deeply was because it was virtually first and foremost example I had and to as impressionable young woman, that kind of thing sticks. The definition of success and how to obtain it was taught to me was by sneaking her show on a Saturday afternoon while my parents when to Shop Rite without me. I’ve just stayed observing all the ways fame has developed via internet and can lead to success. But the beauty of the defying gravity factor is that this blond “bimbo” and many other “bimbos” like her have done the same thing, most without the Hilton name. All I did was think twice before I believed that reality television was just a trashy phase. Instead I realized that I, like many others, am still consuming similar content in 2009 now in 2019, the difference is its in the palm of my hand and I’m deciding to take advantage of it.
#y2k#paris hilton#nicole richie#new york post#early 2000s#early 2000s fashion#90s fashion#90s nostalgia#90s kid#90s#the simple life#kim kardashian#kylie jenner#art school#pratt#pratt institute#blog post#art blog#journalism#cultural commentary#social commentary#new york#brooklyn#la#los angeles#nyc#photography#disposable camera
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𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔬𝔡𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔲𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔟𝔦, 𝔄𝔯𝔞𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔗𝔲𝔧𝔄𝔯𝔞
"𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚖, 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚜, 𝙱𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐."
In light of my blog being revamped officially I am creating a Muse sheet for all of my mutual followers and silent worshipers. I won’t be going into immense detail about my Muse’s past/creation as I have had multiple threads that dissected every ounce of it including a few AU’s where her history was either less enticing or she was mortal. Stick around until the end for a special ‘shout-out’ for my partners who have helped shape my blog in one way or many.
Bɾιҽϝ Hιʂƚσɾყ
Aramath and TüjArä are one of the same, they share a body, heart, and mind but not a soul. The Queen was not always split between good and evil, however, she was created as one being- a part from each Ancient that attended her Creation. With her being ‘born’ the mortal world was introduced to the power and weakness of Lust, the Goddess of Succubi, TüjArä. Although in the beginning of her history she was a cruel ruler who only wished for her children to divulge in the tasteful wants of the lesser species as well as going on massacres by their mother’s word.
Her world changed when the Goddess found what was at the root of all her lust- that being love. Don’t start smiling now, this isn’t a typical love story, matter of fact I wouldn’t consider it a love story at all. TüjArä fell in love with a viking and bared a half mortal child with this man- against every ruling of the Ancients that stated it was forbidden for a woman of pure lust to pursue. Knowing this, TüjArä stepped from her throne and above into the mortal world, hiding from those who wished to put her back into place. For six years she lived with those she loved, learning what it meant to have humility and compassion as a mortal would.
Aρρҽαɾαɳƈҽ; Vαɾιαɳƚʂ
In the original story I write Aramath rocks a crimson hairstyle, usually quite lengthy and wavy in previous cycles that was her iconic look. However after a long debate I had wrote her into isolation from those she learned to care for and in this she became immensely ill- the red of her hair fading until it became a ghastly platinum. It is very important to note that the original Aramath and the current one I am writing for both possess their own personality differences as well as differing internal conflict with TüjArä.
Her body is covered head to toe in an array of stories about her existence as well as other oddities that come alive upon the command of her Oracle. Aramath is usually seen in black leather of all sorts, her style has toned down over the years but she is a rocker at heart, which is seen in various band tees and skull based clothing and jewelry. A few things stay the same however- the rings she wears each possess their own special abilities, ranging from her own internal power to the unique array of her kind, Oracle, and lovers.
Wԋαƚ Gɾιɳԃʂ Hҽɾ Gҽαɾʂ
Aramath is a very tedious creature to write for, she is hot headed yet well tempered, childish at heart yet cold and stern mentally, and while she does not wish to end humanity anymore- that does not mean she is in love with humans. Most she can barely stand so she approaches with a bitter tongue and sharp wit, however when a very special few come to make her acquaintance they are met with soft smiles and the exposure of what a monster looks like when they are tamed. Humans are meat sacks to her, ones that have ruined the Earth they all inhabit due to their selfish ways and this mindset finds her at crossroads- she wishes to rid Mother Earth of the plaque that is humanity but that seems like a waste of good talent. Isn’t that a blessing in itself?
Creatures on the other hand; God or grunt they always amuse Aramath as she sees them full of themselves- no exclusion to her dear friends either. Being around for most species creation has come with clear visions of what the creatures are, humanized or not they all have a sense of higher being in this world dominated by meat sacks. However depending on your class and how you act, Aramath might just consider you something worthy.
Wԋαƚ Tσ Exρҽƈƚ
Well for starters, expect the unexpected my dear children of the night. Aramath as tamed as she is has a thirst for violence and agony, it gives her a sense of life just seeing the simple fear of women when she snatches the attention of their partners. Although she tends to keep the violence to more of a sexual nature she isn’t hesitant to rip off a man’s crotch or sew a demon’s lips shut, all while taking her sweet time. Don’t be mistaken just because she is a succubus that she will sleep with anyone- that is far, far from the truth.
Aramath does not ‘sleep around’, she goes through a very emotional process to choose who enters her bed. This isn’t just for the sake of morality however, to take a succubus use to be a very primal and romantic thing as their kind does not necessarily need to lay with someone to feed. Those who are chosen as special tend to experience hallucinations, feelings of true ecstasy, and in some cases Aramath shares her life experiences with them through touch. With this being said, it is important to understand pushing yourself upon this Goddess- will end with your head mantled on her fireplace. You’ve been warned.
EʂƚαႦʅιʂԋҽԃ Rҽʅαƚισɳʂԋιρʂ; Tԋҽ Mυʅƚιʋҽɾʂҽ
Through the years I have been writing Aramath one thing is clear, once you have a place in her heart you will forever have that spot. This is no different for myself as I wouldn’t have lore if it weren’t for those who helped grow with me. These characters may be an OC or in their own universe- either way they are all loved equally. Here are a few of the characters I most frequently interact and/or click with during threads, some Aramath is very possessive over and others she views as equals. Please do not be discouraged if your muse is not on this list, it does not mean I love you any less my dears.
Henry Pearl, Sunset Peach, the Oracle of the Goddess.
@henry-pearl-battlecreek
Roman Godfrey, a White Tower Dragon in Prince skin.
Eddie Brock, Snarky Reporter, Kingsman In Training.
@venom-inside-you
Venom, Parasitic Terrestrial, Unknown Limits, Enjoys Flesh.
Pan, Horseman of Death, Man of Knowledge.
@thedarklibraryworld
Michael Langdon, Son of Satan, Your Dark Lord, Puppeteer of the Apocalypse.
Jerome and Jeremiah Valeska, A Pair of Laughs, Equally Charismatic and Deadly.
Kai Anderson, Terrifying Candidate, Godlike Ego, Could Make Me Drink the Kool-Aid.
Iɳƚҽɳƚισɳʂ
If you want angst, joy, or death Aramath is the girl to go with. She is very versatile in every aspect that I write her, if you wish to have a particular plot please invade my inbox so we can discuss what you’d like. If not, I frequently post open threads with an already settled plot, starter calls, and interactive dialogues. Never be afraid to send a meme or random prompts into my inbox, I love interacting with my followers!
Mυɳɳҽԃ
Now as we get to the end of this long, long sheet I just want to take a moment and say a few things as a Mun. I- am so terrible about timely responses, between working, streaming, and studying for my degree I do not find a lot of time for my writing passion. However, if you bare with me through the odd times of night when my responses flow I promise you we will have amazing threads together. Now that you know a little about my existence let’s get my blog rules out of the way;
ℝ𝕌𝕃𝔼𝕊
No persons under the age of 18 allowed- period. This blog has intense scenes and NSFW threads, I will not be held responsible for the corruption of children so turn away now or blocking will occur.
As much as I preach love and acceptance, absolutely NO threads will occur with me that involve animals or characters under the age of 18. I do not condone the act of pretending to be an underage child, nor will I bring children in as extras to my thread.
Unless your character is an actual God of some sort, do not attempt to God-mod our threads, I will not allow it to happen and it will terminated immediately. Clarification: Yes you can toss my Muse, but no you cannot kill them (unless discussed or of course- you’re Pennywise.)
Sexual themed threads must be discussed with Mun prior to the beginning of it, if not my character will act as normal- and your muse will lose a hand or two. Discussing is a key point when it comes to certain topics in writing, and as everyone says, Consent is Key.
Remember, we’re all here to enjoy ourselves with our characters, even if the thread is violent and hateful please remember. I am not my Muse and my Muse is not me, you are allowed to spit and curse them but do not dare step past that line and spew venom at me. I have a zero tolerance for drama, hate, or sheer stupidity.
Fιɳαʅ Cσɱɱҽɳƚʂ
Well my loves we’re at the end, it is time to say my final goodbyes as I finish off this sheet on a good note. I will always be open to new partners, new ideas, new universes so please again- never feel scared to shoot me random things. With this revamp I am turning my engines over and putting the pedal to the metal- and it’s only just beginning. With all love, and secret lust- Shalom and Blessed Be.
{Will be updating frequently throughout these next few weeks, stay tuned!}
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Hey friends!
I found King Falls AM at a time in my life where I felt scared, hopeless and alone. I didn’t want to be here at all, and I thought for the most part I’d never be happy again. I’m still most of those things, but every day in King Falls makes that a little easier to be okay with. I thought long and hard about what I could manage for this, but most of all, I just wanted to say thank you. So. Here goes.
Thank you for Sammy Stevens, who is my favourite kind of character. He’s sassy and pretty and humble and full of love.Thank you for his cynicism and snark, but also for his ability to push aside his own beliefs and ideas and wants when it matters. Also, for letting him Suplex Grisham, because that was pretty neat! Thank you for the way he relates to the people around him, but especially to Lily. For a character who makes mistakes and actually tries to learn from them - he doesn’t always get it right, but he tries, and that’s so important. He’s made me laugh, he’s made me cry, he’s made me want to scream. I adore his backstory, it means more to me than I can say, but also thank you for the way you handled the events around 75. It was so meaningful. I love him with everything I have, which is why it hurts me to thank you for his pain, which is so unbelievably relatable to my own. For my own hurt that comes out of his mouth. The kind of hurt that transcends circumstances. I was in a dark place before this show, and parts of me are still there, but watching Sammy grow, and change and heal has meant everything to me. It gives me hope for better days. For Sammy, and for me too. Thank you for giving him the courage to stick around, and for giving him hope.
Thank you for Benny Arnold. Who I can’t write about coherently without bursting into tears. He’s messy and flawed and just absolutely gorgeous. Seeing him grow through the years has been an absolute joy, but most of all, I love his ability to remain untainted by the horrors he’s been through. He’s still got the same heart, and it’s the best heart there is. I love his passion, his hope, his resilience. His belief in everybody around him. He remains unapologetically himself through everything, and I adore him. He is The Good, and I’m so glad we have him.
Noah brings such complexity to him too, and I can listen a thousand times to a single episode and continue to feel all the things.
Thank you for Emily. For making a strong, intelligent, badass women who’s also soft and desirable and loving. For letting her write her own story and for letting her be more than a prize to be won. She’s so good natured and considerate and thoughtful, and even in her worst moments she never loses that. Every moment she appears is wonderful and Jess KILLS IT every time! I’ve especially enjoyed phase two Emily, as her relationships with other characters become more integral to the story. Thank you for speaking out against the Frickards of the world through her, because it hurts and it’s hard but it’s so important. Using your audience for good means so much.
Thank you for the thoughtfulness and care with which you consistently apply to sensitive subjects. For day-to-day happiness, for happy places and for months of quiet kindness without ever being asked.
Thank you for Jack Wright. For the reminder to choose love (even when it’s hard. Maybe especially when it’s hard.) For the reminder that we’re all worthy of love, in all its forms. The affirmation that nobody corners the market on sadness, but also that we don’t always have to go it alone. That grief is universal, and that’s not always a bad thing. For quiet moments of humanity in the midst of absolute tragedy. For vulnerability, for heartbreak and moving forward together. For forgiveness and acceptance, and humility.
Thank you for Dwayne Libbydale, who’s a special kind of chaos. I am again lost for words, but I love him, I love him, I love him.
Thank you for Pete Escobar Ed Edwards Yardboy Myers and his funyuns and disdain and snark (even if me saying I love him means he’ll never listen to this show again.)
Thank you for PHENOMENAL journalist Lily Wright, who is an absolute delight! She feels like the personification of grief, loss and trauma, but at the same time so, so real. Her reluctant acceptance of King Falls as home is beautiful, and I hope she gets ALL THE HUGS really soon. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, even if it means alienating the people she loves. Her shaky vulnerability with Sammy, Ben and Emily is so good, and I’m so excited to see where the future of Lily Wright lays. King Falls Chronicles was some KILLER story telling, and Candace was the icing on the cake. The acting chemistry she has with everybody is absolutely on point. I’m so glad we get to keep Lily. That she’s found home.
Thank you for #DeputyDead. His unwavering optimism and willingness to see the good in everything and everybody is absolutely wonderful.
Thank you for Debbie and RoboTim, who I still believe in, despite all evidence pointing to ‘don’t do that.’
Thank you for Maggie Masterson, an Actual Icon. And for our Man’s Man’s Man and his lil Kingsie Bab. For Regan who is a sweetheart and Chet who I hate to love.
Thank you for villains that fill me with white hot rage. Who’s actions are explained, but never excused. For Frickards and Gundersons and ShadowFUCKS and HFB3’s and Leland Hills and Ernies and Grishams. They’re different levels of despicable, and I adore hate them all.
Thank you for ridiculous caricatures ; the Gwendolyns and the Cynthias and the Jacob Williams. Thank you for SPORTSBALL (CHOP. DAT. WOOD.) and WALL CRABS and GARBAGE BEARS and DANGER NOODLES and every other ridiculous Benism.
Thank you for Teareal and serendipity and redrum roses and for the inability to see the word ‘ghost’ and not correcting it to APPARITION. Thank you for Dan & Larry and boy band battles and Doyle’s Conspiracy Cavern and Devon Hamptonframptonshire. For Golden Owl, Finn and Gator Jack and Alvin and every other ridiculously loveable character you’ve created. Some of them barely last longer than an episode, but their chaos will fuel me for a lifetime.
Thank you for Mary Jensen, who is the mom I wish I had. All moms are champs, but Mary is perfect. Thank you for Betty and Nancy and Loretta and Marigold. All who I expect deserve the praise they’re given.
Thank you for Herschel and Cecil, who are cranky old bastards and who probably shouldn’t fit together, but they do so effortlessly. The care and compassion they have for each other is inspiring, and I too hope to have a friend like that someday. Trent is wickedly skilled, and I’m sure he hears it so often but!!!!
Thank you for BE WELL BUDDIES and silly puns in the titles, and short jokes and RoboTim mixups and Science Institute break-ins with vigilante superheroes and mysterious callers. Thank you for love through overnight oats and moustache talk and non-binary pals. For a willingness to grow and change and learn and laugh. For the electrolocaust and my favourite threesome and for sammiversarys. For Ben posting Sammy’s bail, and heart-to-hearts in jail cells. For stupid bets and bensplosions and the fucking kickball story. For creepy dreams and technical terms, for badly timed BEEPS for awkward flirting and on-air confessions. For idiots who can’t keep secrets, let alone not talk about them on air for more than five minutes. For missing hikers and weird shadow tornados and notebooks and shooting down UFOs and death by damnation. For the SECOND BEST small town in American Celebration, for Christmas Gifts for Ben’s Mom and Jupiter Jaundice. For Ben’s monopoly tactics and Sammy’s audible eye rolls, for prophecies and ‘legend-has-it’s and for love and love and love.
Thank you for the mysteries, and for the constant need for MORE. You do cliffhangers so wonderfully, and I feel like I’ve never anticipated anything so keenly in my life. Tim Jensen, The Dark, Merv, Death by Damnation, The Rainbow Lights, The Zombies.
Thank you for Cameron Chambers??? How does he do it?? I have no idea, but I hope he keeps doing it. Especially all them Christmas BOPS. Legendary. Jazz-Hands worthy!
Thank you for making Zombies the F- plot.
Thank you for the Eagle Screech in the DALE’S DOLLAR TREE ad. And all the other ads too, I guess. I don’t understand The Fucky List, but thanks for that too!
Thank you for JACK IN THE BOX JESUS which has caused my internet to constantly recommend me eat at Jack in the Box, despite the closest one being literal continents away.
Thank you for continuing to choose this. For being open to sharing so much of yourselves with us. Thank you for fan interactions and live listens, Q&As and twitter replies and twitch streams and retweets and Beyond the Falls. Thank you for the love and care you show us all, which above all feels genuine.
Thank you for being the catalyst for a community where I finally feel like I belong. Like I’m important. Like I matter. Thank you for being the reason for hours and days and weeks and months of in-jokes and teasing and theories and head canons and screaming and food talk and love. For so much kindness. And acceptance. For a space to be myself without fear. For people I feel like I’ve known lifetimes, and for whom I hope I can love for lifetimes more. For people to cheer on, and cry with, and poke fun at. For stupid nickname changes, and memes and words in reactions. For making me feel like i’m part of something much bigger than me. For a place to be passionate without judgement. For a place to just be. For friends. For family.
Thank you for the push I’ve needed to create again. And for all the others you’ve inspired too.
Every moment inside King Falls have been an absolute blessing, but the impact it’s had on my life outside of it is absolutely everything.
Congratulations on (almost) 100 episodes. What an adventure it’s been. I’m so excited for everything the future of King Falls holds, but most of all;
Thank you for making this fuckin’ mean something.
#contest entry#100 eps!!#kfam100#king falls am#kfam#thanks#kfam discord#ramble#unashamed fangirling#long post#text#words
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QOTS 4x13 Reaction Post
It’s the finale AKA my very own reenactment of that taste-testing kombucha reaction meme!
Yup, that’s the one lol.
I feel like this ep will require a few rewatches to process BUT the good news is: Marcel lives! Oksana lives! King George lives! Chicho lives! (er...the Judge lives?) and the unexpected guest we’ve all been waiting for...LIVES. James ends the season alive and in Teresa’s company and fully available for S5. It’s a miracle.
About that--well damn guess we know now why the crew was piiiiiissed the network released those promo pics. They kept James out of the previouslies and Peter out of the opening credits because he was supposed to be a literal last second surprise. They even shoved an Eddie red herring in there last minute to throw us off (bless Bailey b/c THAT is a thankless role omg. I can count on one hand the number of people who needed an Eddie update and they’re all related to the actor).
But gotta love the writers knowing they finally had PG for the finale and then packing the ep with as many James parallels/references as possible. Oh did Javier lie to protect the woman he loved? Fancy that. Interesting choice of goodbye between Javier and Pote, can’t put a finger on where we’ve heard “Take care of her”/”Always” exchange before. And O RLY to “If you had trusted me I could have protected you” and on and on. Who knows if the specific parallels mean anything or the writers were kids in the James-is-finally-available-to-reference-in-the-script-again candy store but I’m looking forward to finding out in S5.
What’s weird is going out of a finale we don’t really have a clear view of S5. With the Judge surviving the season, I’d think Teresa would stick around in NOLA for unfinished business. But with Oksana’s scaryass cousin beckoning Teresa further down the Queenpin path, NYC sounds like an option as well. Can’t wait to see who they cast as Kostya.
And as thrilled as I am that James showed up to tell Teresa the title of the episode (very considerate of him lol), who is this “they he speaks of? It’s a cliffhanger but a wide-open one. We have no idea really what is next.
One hopefully good omen for Season 5 is Teresa had FIVE scenes with three different women characters this episode and I hope in my heart that those dark Bechdel Test failing times of midseason are gone forever more.
As for the rest of the episode--
Damn, I knew Javier’s death was pretty much inevitable but what a way to go. And in true Javier fashion, he managed to double down on the deception consequences til the bitter end, backing Teresa well and truly into a corner before confessing.
And wow, the confession scene was amazing for Alice and Alfonso. I loved both of their acting choices.
Good thing James is back though because apparently he is the only person on this entire show who can successfully shoot someone?
All that Randall/Javier chase scene needed was some Benny Hill music. What in the world lol.
Okay I might be using humor to heal the sadness of seeing Alfonso go because Javier levitating amidst the flames to take down Randall made me scream and not in the way they intended. To be fair, I guess Javier’s athletic ability of jumping out of trunks was foreshadowed last week.
SEE YOU IN ANOTHER LIFE, BROTHER. There has to be a take Ryan used the Desmond accent on that line, right?! Give us the deleted scenes, QOTS! Oops he said other side. I still want deleted scenes tho.
Hellloooo S2 Queenpin outfit. So it’s gonna be like THAT, huh. And did anyone else think Eddie was wearing a wire at first in that scene??
But at the same time, the Queenpin transformation wasn’t as literal as I feared going into S4. She’s still OUR Teresa too.
Curious to where her journey goes next
And curious to see how they fill in the James blanks. What’s he been doing the last 9 months? Is he a free man now or on the run? And the really important questions such as: does he have like 10 extras of that exact same leather jacket stashed in safe houses across the country?
SO glad it got early renewal so we can find out.
And just like that we’re in hiatus again. While this Season may not have been what I wanted it to be, or what I believed it could have been, at the end of it I’m still so thrilled I get to spend at least one more season with these crazy fools and you wonderful people. THANK YOU to everyone who messaged me, commented, reblogged, tagged and to everyone who posted content--you made this season more fun than it had any right to be lol and I’m so grateful for you!
Here’s to a fic-filled hiatus and an amazing Season 5!
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Six Baudelaires AU, Part Two: Reference Guide
A quick guide for everything I intentionally referenced in The Six Siblings, Part Two: This Tale is All Sorrows and Woes.
{ao3} {tumblr} {part one reference guide}
MAJOR SPOILER WARNING - the plot twists from this section of the fanfiction will be discussed at length.
Without further ado…
Chapter One / Prologue - in which Lilac has to Older Sister
“Release Nick, you fiend!”
Violet tackled Klaus to the ground, as both of her brothers burst into giggles. “Never! Nick’s my prisoner of war!” Klaus said, trying (and failing) to push her off.
Nick being the “captive” in the childrens’ game throughout the chapter is a bit of an obvious foreshadow to his captivity from Chapters 12-20... which meant it was really fun when none of you noticed until then and then tried to kill me. XD
A full reference of the books namedropped in the childrens’ game:
Violet and Nick’s kingdom, Terabithia, is from Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson. Their original characters, either Susan/Lucy and Peter/Edmund, are a reference to The Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis.
Lilac and Klaus’s kingdom, Gwyntystorm, and their characters, Irene and Curdie, are from The Princess and the Goblin and its sequel, The Princess and Curdie, by George MacDonald.
Lilac says she thought Nick was Eragon, from The Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini, and Klaus says he was Aragorn, from The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien. Nick’s suggestion for a new name, Glaedr, is also a character from The Inheritance Cycle. Nick finally decides to be Peter Pan, obviously from Peter Pan by JM Barrie.
“Naw, they definitely are.” Nick nodded. “When a new baby is born, one of the other children has to die. Everyone knows it.” [...] “Now, since it’s a girl maybe, they could take out one of them,” he gestured towards Violet and Lilac, “But you’re the most useless, Klaus, so-” [...] “But yeah. Babies suck and we should totally throw our sister off the roof.”
Direct reference to Addams Family Values (1993)
“Watch me.” Nick’s eyes lit up. “Wait, no, better plan. You guys remember Moses-”
Reference to the story of Moses, who was placed in a basket in a river as an infant.
Lilac quickly answered the phone, saying, “Baudelaire residence. This is Lilac Emily. To whom am I presently speaking?”
Lilac’s middle name is taken from her actress, Emily Browning.
“We’re sensible and proper!” Nick added.
A reference to S Theodora Markson’s catchphrase in All the Wrong Questions.
“What was that, Dad? No, no real ropes. Yeah, promise. We’ll go to bed on time, too. But you’ll all be back in the morning? Yeah, I know. Don’t open the windows.”
The Baudelaire parents don’t want to risk their children getting recruited.
“He said we have a new sister.” Lilac reported. “Solitude Theodora Baudelaire.”
A direct reference to S Theodora Markson.
“Can we make a blanket fort?” Klaus asked. “Like we used to?”
Much like the last prologue, this is a reference to the scene from the 2004 film.
Rest of the fic under the cut.
Chapter Two - in which the Baudelaires move into a nice Shack
As he stood, Nick turned to look at his brother, and after a second, he realized something. “Wait a minute.” he said. “Are you… taller than me?”
A reference to Louis Hynes’s growth spurt inbetween TMM and TAA in the Netflix series. (Though, fun fact, at this moment in time, Liam Aiken is currently taller than Louis Hynes, so I guess Nick eventually does end up taller.)
Violet groaned and stood, and Solitude said, “Winnie,” which meant, “We could have Babbitt judge; they’re good with numbers!”
A reference to the main character of Babbitt’s namesake, Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt.
After a moment, Nick said, “I’ll give you a tip.”
“Yes?”
Nick smiled slightly. “There’s a book, about the mother of a girl who reminds me a lot of you, in that everyone thinks she is adorable and perfect. The mother gets scared when the girl’s classmate drowns on a field trip and her daughter steals something shiny off of him, and she then finds out that she has a very suspicious genealogy.”
Nick giving tips in the form of book recommendations is a reference to Lemony’s habit of doing the same thing to Pip and Squeak in All the Wrong Questions. This is a double reference, as Liam Aiken, Nick’s actor, read the audiobooks for ATWQ.
The book he is referencing is The Bad Seed by William March.
“Gah-ahc.” said Solitude, which meant, “Let’s sleep outside.”
One of Soli’s lines in the 2004 film.
Chapter Three - in which the Baudelaires make new friends
Sunny narrowed her eyes. “Armoracia,” she muttered, which meant something like, “That doesn’t sound right. Apples and Horseradish taste very differently.”
Early foreshadowing for Sunny’s cooking interest.
“I can get the windows,” Lilac said, “Should be an ordinary-enough pin-tumbler lock.”
The phase “ordinary enough pin-tumbler lock” is repeated a lot, as a reference to the second All the Wrong Questions book, When Did You See Her Last?
“Yeah, there’s no locks.” Duncan said. “Bonnie said that they fell off a few years ago and never got replaced.”
A reference to a main character from The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken.
Chapter Four - in which Duncan and Isadora break into a Library
“See? Researcher. Like Klaus.” Nick said.
Klaus narrowed his eyes at his twin, trying to figure out what Nick was on about. “Is that… really important?”
“Yes.” Nick said, and failed to elaborate.
[...] “I think Klaus and Duncan should take the fungus.” Violet said, sharing a look with Nick. “The rest of us can keep an eye out for that book.”
“Why should we take the fungus?”
Violet held back a smile and shrugged, but Klaus quickly figured out what was going on. His face went red, and he glared at her, but Duncan said, “I’m fine with that,” so all he could do was shrug and keep shooting his siblings dark looks.
Violet and Nick are trying to set Duncan and Klaus up, much to Lilac’s horror.
“Like a little cat.” Duncan said. “One of those feral ones that are super tiny.”
A reference to the world’s smallest cat, the Rusty-spotted cat.
“That doesn’t sound right, but I really don’t give a shit.” Nick shrugged. “We’ll find it, won’t we, Soli?”
A reference to a line from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia episode 5x03, “The Great Recession”, which later became a meme - “That doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about stars to dispute it.”
Chapter Five - in which the children run amok at Prufrock Prep
“You’re lucky.” Isadora said, sitting on the edge of the roof and kicking her legs as she looked down at the dying grass fields. “Our parents’ estate’s executor doesn’t give a fuck until orphans are ‘in’, whatever the hell that means.”
As revealed in The Slippery Slope book, Esme was left in charge of the Quagmires’ estate.
Lilac giggled. “Yeah. Mom used to have [a necklace] just like it, except instead of these gear patterns, it had her initials. I always thought it was pretty, but she never let me wear it, so I learned how to make my own. She was… so proud.”
2004 Film Violet does indeed have a necklace throughout the entire film; I just added a backstory.
“Nick Liam Baudelaire, what the hell is that?” Lilac shouted.
Nick’s middle name is in reference to his actor, Liam Aiken.
“Marbeau,” said Sunny, meaning, “Maybe they’ve finally opened a daycare or toddler school.”
A reference to Firmin Marbeau, who pioneered a forerunner of modern daycare.
Chapter Six - in which the Baudelaires have Gym Class
“Tik,” said Sunny, meaning, “No! Typing and stapling is so hard when we’re tired!”
“Tik” spelled backwards is “Kit”, which, no, is not a reference to Kit Snicket, but Kit Kittredge, who famously carries a typewriter.
“Say goodbye to Nick, Solitude.” Lilac said, grabbing the toddler’s hand and dragging her to her feet.
Another bit of foreshadowing for Nick’s capture.
“Olil.” Sunny groaned. “Leave me alone to die.”
“Olil” spelled backwards is “Lilo”, as Sunny is directly quoting a line from Lilo & Stitch (2002).
“Speaking of which,” Carmelita said, “As this is the second message I gave you, I really deserve a tip at this point.”
“There’s a book about what happens when you let a bunch of schoolchildren run around unsupervised,” Klaus said, “And it features a pig’s head on a stick.”
Once again, the book recommendation instead of a tip is an All the Wrong Questions reference.
Klaus is recommending Lord of the Flies by William Golding.
Chapter Seven - in which Nick gets them all in Even More Trouble
“I’m just telling you what I was told to tell you.” Carmelita giggled. “And since this is my eleventh message, you’re overdue eleven tips.”
“We gave you our tips.” Nick said, glaring at her. “But here’s today’s; there’s a book that was made into a popular film that is about a hound dog and a fox. In the book, at the end, the hound kills the fox.”
Once again, ATWQ reference with the tips.
The book he’s recommending is The Fox and the Hound by Daniel P Mannix; and, yes, that IS how the book ends. The Hound dies, too. You’re welcome for ruining your childhood.
“Klaus?” he sounded very uncharacteristically terrified. “Klaus? Are you okay?”
Klaus, startled, quickly stumbled out, “Y-yeah, I’m fine…” as Lilac and Violet also jumped up, grabbing the infants, and the Quagmires hurried to their feet.
“Did your glasses break?”
“No, I’m-”
“Are you hurt?” Nick pulled away from his slightly, his eyes moving fast as he scanned his brother.
While Nick’s PTSD worsens much later, the first signs of it start showing here; he’s still traumatized from Klaus’s hypnotism, which was always kicked off with him getting tripped and his glasses breaking.
“I wouldn’t say that.” said Nick, glaring down at the floor. He hadn’t looked anybody in the eye since he’d attacked Carmelita.
Nick isn’t ashamed of attacking Carmelita; he’s ashamed that he “overreacted” to something so minor. He doesn’t like admitting he needs help, which becomes a problem after his capture.
“We know what homeschooling is.” Violet said. “We were-”
In this continuity, the Baudelaires were homeschooled before the fire.
“Halloween, age nine,” Isadora said, “Was when we wanted to go as a certain family of six children. The problem being that there’re only three of us.”
A reference to The Brady Bunch.
“We know you’re not asking.” Isadora said, smiling. “We’re volunteering.”
whelp.
Chapter Eight - in which Lilac Snaps
No major references in this chapter.
Chapter Nine - in which the Baudelaires are given Fashion Lessons
They fell silent again, and then quietly, Lilac started to sing. She sang a song that was normally played very loud and energetic, but she gave it a slower melody, quietly soothing Sunny as they walked up and up the large staircase. It was a song about how everybody’s looking for something, and as they walked, listening to Lilac’s soft voice, they all really hoped that whoever was looking for the Quagmires would find them quickly.
A reference to “Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)” by Eurythmics, but more specifically, a reference to Emily Browning’s cover version.
“Ah, you’re very adventurous!” Jerome said. “Just like your mother. We were friends a ways back. We hiked up Mount Fraught with some friends- gosh, it must have been twenty years ago-” [...] “Hmm? Oh, no, just the Snickets and that Markson boy.”
Lilac narrowed her eyes. “Who?”
“That Markson boy” is a reference to the theory that Bertrand Baudelaire was adopted by S Theodora Markson’s family. Lilac’s recognition is not of her father’s maiden name, but of “Snicket”, which she vaguely remembers from her childhood.
Chapter Ten - in which the In Auction is planned
Currently, the Baudelaires were spread out in the living room. Nick and Klaus were trying to read through a book on Emily Dickinson that they’d bought the other day, while Violet and Lilac were going through the newspaper, trying to find something interesting, or some news on the search for Count Olaf.
The Baudelaires miss the Quagmires so much they’ve accidentally picked up their habits; Emily Dickinson is a famous poet, and Violet and Lilac are reading the newspaper.
“She seems like the kind of person who’d try to set me up with some rich kid.” Nick said. “And I’m never getting married, not even when I’m older. I’m gonna live alone in the woods, and the only one who can come visit me is Soli.”
Nick is aromantic.
“Ihering!” Soli said, which meant something like, “I’ll live with you and we can raise reptiles in the woods!”
A reference to Hermann von Ihering, a zoologist.
The waiter nodded. “I didn’t realize this was a sad occasion.”
[...] “Did you say-?” Lilac began.
The waiter is a VFD agent; once again, Lilac vaguely recognizes the code phrase.
Chapter Eleven - in which Klaus finds an Ersatz Elevator
“I’m not going to let us chase red herrings!” Lilac shouted back, hurt.
Dark foreshadowing to the red herring statue.
“Solitude is,” Nick said, moving past him to find a pencil and paper, “Sunny is the albatross that curses us.”
“Doom!” Sunny cheered.
A reference to The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
“It worked.” Violet smiled.
“We never expected otherwise.” Klaus said.
A reference to the line from “The Bad Beginning: Part One” in the Netflix series.
Chapter Twelve - in which the Baudelaires fall
“Not so bad.” Solitude muttered. Then, she said, “Radec,” which meant, “Just think of it as a ride, instead of an actual fall.”
“Radec” spelled backwards is “Cedar”; a lowkey reference to Cedar Point.
“No, we’re going to make a lockpick.” Lilac said. “Flamethrower’s too volatile. Besides, I don’t trust you with it.”
“Too volatile” is a reference to the phrase being used in The Grim Grotto.
She spun on her heel, exiting out a door behind them. As she did, Nick said, “Should I go after her and tell her the kitchen was out the other door?”
Esme went to call Olaf and the henchpeople, instead of going to the kitchen.
“Yeet Babbitt.” Solitude suggested.
A reference to the vine/meme.
They had to walk through a parlor to get to the door, and as they did, Nick stopped a moment, glancing at the phone. It didn’t look broken.
“Hey, guys?” he called, but they didn’t hear him, so he started to run to catch up.
Nick started to run to catch up; he never did, because that’s when one of Olaf’s henchpeople grabs him.
And then, with a swish, there was a thump, thump, thump, and the Baudelaires stopped falling.
Only three thumps- because Klaus and Lilac were carrying the toddlers, and Nick didn’t fall, only three kids hit the net.
“Nhojnod!” Sunny shouted. “You bastard!”
“Njohnod” is “Don John” spelled backwards, a reference to the character from Much Ado About Nothing, who is a bastard in both the legal and ethical use of the term.
Chapter Thirteen - in which Sunny crawls up an elevator shaft
“Sunday Theodora Baudelaire!” Lilac shouted. “You get back down here right now!”
Sunny’s middle name, “Theodora”, is once again a reference to S Theodora Markson; even after her death, she’s still confusing people about what the S stood for.
Sunny sighed and turned slightly towards them, calling out, “Salvo!” which probably meant something like, “I’m going to go get us some rope and see if I can find Nick! I’ll be back soon!”
“Salvo” is a Latin verb, meaning “to save.”
Sunny bit her lip and shook her head. “Appentier,” she said, meaning, “He’s not in the penthouse, at least from what I saw.”
“Appentier” is a french word from which “penthouse apartment” is derived.
“Kim?” Sunny asked, meaning, “Wait, we get leeway for being kidnapped?”
“Kim” is the name of the girl who is kidnapped in the film Taken (2008).
Solitude glanced at her in confusion. “Greywater?”
“Yes, Soli,” Violet said, “A word which here means, ‘basically piss and shit.’”
A reference to a line from IT: Chapter One (2017).
Chapter Fourteen - in which Some Children are sold at auction
“You’d be surprised what’s legal and what’s not, actually.” Esme said. “For instance, in our society, cannibalism is legal, but religiously frowned upon-”
A reference to the only ASOUE canon that matters, the Real-Time Fandub. (part one, part two)
“Very interesting.” Olaf said. “And I suppose you think that your dear sister Lilac will take care of you then?”
Olaf is taunting Nick here, as he’s about to drop quite a lot of secrets to him, but mainly that Lilac is his half-sister.
Notably, Nick is the only Baudelaire not present in this header image.
Chapter Fifteen - in which Nobody’s having a good time
No major references in this chapter.
Chapter Sixteen - in which Lilac has a bad plan
For sapphires and fortunes we are held in here.
Only you can end our fear.
Isadora’s poems are ever-so-slightly different in this AU, due to Nick’s presence.
The addition of and fortunes indicates that Nick is still with them.
Until dawn comes, we cannot speak speak.
No voices come from this sad beak.
“voices” is more specific than “words can”; Nick has already started to go nonverbal due to his trauma, and Duncan and Isadora are unable to yell through the statue.
Chapter Seventeen - in which the Village makes a Big Mistake
But as she passed the Baudelaires, her hand slipped, and the man turned and met Lilac’s eyes. He stared for a moment, as if he realized with a shock he recognized her from somewhere. Then, he said, very quietly, “The world is quiet here.”
Jacques is realizing that Lilac has Lemony’s eyes; if he hadn’t realized before she was his niece, he does now. He tries to signal her with a VFD codephrase.
“Now,” Lilac said, “We will need full access to all your inventing materials.”
“And I’ll need blueprints of the uptown jail.” Klaus said.
“Dead fly.” said Solitude.
While this is an obvious reference to Soli wanting to feed Babbitt, it is also a reference to a similar request made by Wednesday Addams in the 1964 sitcom The Addams Family, episode 1x10, “Wednesday Leaves Home.”
The first thing you read contains our clues:
An initial way to speak to you.
“Our clues”, once again, signals that Nick is still with the Quagmires.
Chapter Eighteen - in which Count Olaf was not murdered
No major references in this chapter.
Chapter Nineteen - in which the Twins get a Birthday Present
“You won’t keep Nick.” Lilac added. “He’ll get away from you, and the Quagmires, too! We’re never going to give up, and neither are they!”
“Baudelaires don’t give up!” Solitude shouted.
Olaf just smiled. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”
Nick’s trauma has already caused him to shut down completely, and Olaf knows this.
Inside these letters the eye will see
Nearby are your loved ones and the VFD
Nick and the Quagmires are still together.
Chapter Twenty - in which Sunny drives a Firetruck
“Nick, hey.” Isadora slowly pulled away from Violet and Lilac and stepped closer to the fountain, her voice very soft. “Your siblings found us. We were right. They found us.”
The Quagmires aren’t as traumatized as Nick; they’ve learned how to avoid the wrath of their captors, and have complete faith that the Baudelaires will save them. Nick’s been tortured and told quite a lot of things that temporarily broke him.
Duncan and Isadora shared a glance, and to the Baudelaires’ surprise, Nick flinched and also shared the triplets’ look. “Well, that’s not a surprise.” Duncan said. “He was the brother of a man who-”
Duncan, Isadora and Nick all know about Jacques Snicket, his relationship to Lemony, and Lemony’s relationship to Lilac.
Nick was backing away from the fence, eyes wide, gripping onto Solitude so hard his knuckles were white. Isadora ran forwards, and Lilac realized then that he was shaking uncontrollably.
“Nick, Nick, it’s okay!” Isadora said. She reached forwards, grabbing his face. “Look at me! Look at me! Duncan-”
Duncan ran over, putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder, as Nick said, “They’re going to find us. They’re going to catch us. They’re going to find us-”
A lot of Nick’s trauma came from punishments after he attempted to escape, so he goes into a panic whenever they’re about to be caught.
At that moment, Solitude pushed Babbitt onto Nick’s shoulder and said, “Hold this!” She immediately started running, jumping over Lilac and crawling through the window and onto the seat beside Sunny. Then she slid to the floor and jumped on the gas pedal, causing them to take off again.
A reference to Pip and Squeak from All the Wrong Questions, who drove their taxi in a similar way.
Klaus stared back, and then his gaze hardened, and his siblings had never seen him look so furious.
“I’m going to kill them.” Klaus vowed, and he meant it. “I’m going to kill them, Nick.”
Nick’s eyes widened, and for several seconds, he looked like he physically could not process what his brother had just said.
A running joke up to this point was that Nick would suggest murder and Klaus would remind him that was illegal; after seeing his brother in such a state of shock and fear, this gag drops as Klaus decides Olaf and his troupe have to die.
Chapter Twenty-One - in which Nick is not feeling great
Meanwhile, Klaus was leaning against the wall, with Nick leaning onto his shoulder, curled up so he could be as close to his brother as possible. He had his eyes shut, but Lilac knew he wasn’t asleep; she didn’t think he’d slept at all.
A symptom of severe trauma is the loss of sleep, either because of nightmares, or fear of what could happen while in such a defenseless position. This will be explored in Part Three.
Nick bit his lip, and then nodded and said, “I-I’m sorry-”
Nick’s gotten over the initial shock of his rescue, and he’s starting to regret breaking down and starting to hate being so obviously traumatized.
“Wait, Li…” Nick paused. “Can I… can I talk to you?”
“Of course.” Lilac said softly.
Nick glanced from Klaus to Violet to the toddlers. “Alone?”
Nick has decided it’s Lilac’s right to know she has a different (possibly living?) biological dad than the rest of them, but he also knows it’s her decision who else she wants to know, hence why he wants to tell her alone.
Nick looked up at Klaus, and said, “I-I…” he shut his eyes. “I thought I heard… no, no, I must’ve… I thought I heard her, but… I had to… she wouldn’t… have found us this fast…”
Esme and Olaf were Nick’s main tormentors; they trigger his panic attacks more than the presence of the rest of the troupe.
“No! No, don’t leave!” Nick shouted, leaping forwards and grabbing Klaus’s arm.
Nick is absolutely terrified of isolation/abandonment, especially in enclosed spaces.
“Never!” Klaus pushed Nick farther, incredibly terrified by just how quiet his brother was.
Nick was punished a lot for “backtalking” his captors, so when he’s around Olaf and Esme, he almost never speaks.
Chapter Twenty-Two - in which the Baudelaires break into a Hospital
“Dimidium,” Sunny said, which meant, “Well, it’s only half a hospital.”
“Dimidium” is a Latin noun, meaning “half.”
“We could kick down the door.” Lilac suggested. Then, she gave Nick a small smile. “Remember, Nick? When you were locked in the closet and wanted Mom to kick down the door?”
A reference to a previous one-shot for the Six Baudelaires AU.
“Do you think that’ll have the information we need?” Violet asked.
Nick flinched again, and then he said, “Um-”
Nick heard the word “Snicket”, and immediately assumes the worst- that it’ll out Lilac to the rest of their siblings.
Chapter Twenty-Three - in which Solitude steals some shit
Nick still didn’t respond, and Violet’s voice broke. “You have to remember. You couldn’t have been younger than… six or seven. Mother and Father were so mad, when they found us I thought they were going to explode… but you weren’t even upset, I cried but you just said you’d… you’d heard some kind of animal cry, and you thought it might need help, and I was the only one awake to help you… they got even madder, told you you should’ve stayed with them, but you didn’t see anything wrong, and… Nick, please tell me you remember that…”
An animal cry is a signal from VFD recruiters to prompt the children to say the codephrase that begins recruitment. The Baudelaire parents don’t want their children recruited, and were terrified to wake up and find their children gone on a night that they could have been kidnapped.
Violet carefully pulled the scraps from her pocket, spreading them out in front of her, while Klaus turned to Nick. “Did they tell you anything?” he asked. “While you were… with them? About VFD, or this whole ‘Snicket’ thing, or Olaf?”
Nick didn’t look anyone in the eye. “There wasn’t… much time to chat. I only… Lilac, can we talk?”
Pretty much all of Nick’s pleas for Lilac to talk to her are brought on when Snicket is mentioned.
Nick pulled away, scratching at his arm, “That’s not…”
POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: IMPLIED SELF HARM
Nick’s arm scratches are a tic he picked up during his captivity; he starts to scratch whenever his captors are mentioned, to keep himself alert. This will be discussed and resolved in Part Three.
Nick looked sharply up at her and said, “Mom stole from Esme. She wouldn’t give a shit.”
Nick knows about the theft of the sugar bowl, as well as the Opera Night. (which are separate incidents, fuck you Netflix.) He’s very pissed at his parents for keeping vital information from them.
Chapter Twenty-Four - in which Violet makes a decision
They went to the Js. Then, quietly, Nick said, “Can we go to the L cabinets?”
“Why?” Lilac asked.
Nick glanced towards his siblings, and then away. “Just a guess.”
Lilac shrugged directed them to the Ls, and Nick flipped through one drawer, eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head. “Nothing here.”
He’s looking under both “Lemony” and “Lilac.”
Nick paused. “I mean… we don’t have to- to watch it right away.”
[...] “Li, please,” he said, “Can we talk? Just outside, just the two of us, there’s something-”
Nick wants to be able to tell Lilac about the whole “Lemony Snicket” thing before they can risk having her find out from the file.
“I did.” Jacques nodded. “I managed to contact-”
He managed to contact Quigley.
“We’ll find them.” Lilac swore. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you scared?”
“I’m scared you won’t let me make a flamethrower and turn it on that bitch.”
A reference to this incorrect quote, which is, of itself, a reference to a line from the television show Brooklyn Nine-Nine, episode 3x10, “Yippie Kayak.”
Still no response. Lilac looked around in terror, her hand flying to her necklace. “Violet Malina Baudelaire! You get the fuck out here!”
Violet’s middle name is taken from her actress, Malina Weissman.
Chapter Twenty-Five - in which Lilac breaks down
“I’m not…” Lilac sniffled. “I’m not like you.”
Nick froze. “What does that mean?”
“You all are so close.” Lilac shut her eyes. “You and Solitude, you and Klaus, you and Violet, Violet and Klaus, Klaus and Sunny, Solitude and Sunny… all of you. You’re all each others’ best friends. None of you care about me like that. [...] I just… feel like… like there’s this wall between us. That we can’t see, but we can’t cross. And I can see you all… you all together. And I just… can’t be like that. Cause I have to be responsible? Cause I’m the oldest? Cause… cause I just can’t be loved?”
“Li!” Nick put a hand on her cheek, turning her towards him. “Li, we do love you. You’re our big sister! You’re our sister! You are our family! Sure, we pick on you, but not because we hate you! We all love you, too!”
This is why Nick doesn’t take the opportunity to tell her about her heritage; he wants to wait for a moment where the information won’t give her more anxiety, or make her think she’s somehow less family.
Nick paused a moment, and then he leaned his head on her shoulder, shut his eyes, and said, “They fuck you up, your Mom and Dad. [...] They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, then add some extra, just for you.”
Lilac stiffened for a second, and then carefully put an arm around Nick. “Where… where’d you learn that?”
“The Library.” Nick lied.
Nick is quoting “This Be the Verse” by Philip Larkin, which is later quoted by Olaf in “The End.” He learned the poem during his captivity.
“Nick.” Lilac wiped her eyes, and then put her hands on his. “It’s okay to… to talk about what happened to you.”
Nick bit his lip. “That’s…”
“I’ve been busy, yes, but I’ve also been scared. Scared that I’ll… I’ll hear something that makes everything worse.” Lilac’s eyes darted to the ground a moment, before going back up to Nick. “But I’ll listen. I want to hear you. I want you to tell me.”
TRIGGER WARNING: CSA MENTION
Lilac has been avoiding Nick in fear that he’ll explain what he suffered under Olaf. While she knows learning the details can help her better protect her brother, she is terrified that she won’t be able to handle it, and she’s completely terrified he might have been sexually assaulted, seeing as Olaf threatened to do that to Violet specifically to punish Lilac, and he had Nick under his control for a while.
Nick smiled at her. “You can do anything, sis.”
Nick knows she’s biologically his half-sister, but he wants to make completely sure she knows he will always consider her his sister and his family, and nothing can change that.
Chapter Twenty-Six - in which Klaus impersonates a Doctor
Nick flinched. “You want to be like him?”
Something to note: After his capture, Nick never refers to Olaf or Esme by their names; just him or her.
Nick took a deep breath. “These vents are a lot bigger than I thought, but, um… they’re still pretty cramped.”
Solitude shrugged. Of course it didn’t seem cramped to her, she was only a little over two feet tall.
“I was just… I’m not sure I like how small it is.”
Nick’s claustrophobia, gained from being trapped in a red herring, a statue, and possibly other small spaces inbetween, is starting up.
“Doctor Howser.” Lilac said in an austrailian accent, thinking very fast. “We’re going to perform surgery soon.”
A reference to Doogie Howser, MD, which starred a young Neil Patrick Harris, who played Olaf in the Netflix series.
“Since when could you do an Austrailian accent?”
“You don’t know everything about me.” Lilac scanned the list.
Lilac’s actress, Emily Browning, is Australian.
Chapter Twenty-Seven - in which the Baudelaires jump out a window
Nick had placed Solitude onto the ground and now held Violet by the shoulders, shaking her slightly as he shouted. “What did they do to you, Vi? Vi, what did they do?”
Nick knows exactly what could have happened to Violet in captivity, so he’s completely and utterly panicked.
“I’m with Klaus.” Nick said shakily. “We go together or not at all.”
A reference to the track “Together or Not at All” from Doctor Who, by Murray Gold.
Chapter Twenty-Eight - in which the Baudelaires visit a Carnival
No major references in this chapter.
Chapter Twenty-Nine - in which Solitude finally morphs into a reptile
“Well, if they…” Nick shut his eyes. “We just… better get there before they drink too much, that’s all.”
Nick has had experience with the troupe while drunk, and would rather attempt to speak with them before it goes too far.
“Well, then,” Lulu said, stepping forwards and looking a bit confused, “What exactly are you, please?”
“You can call me Babydoll.” Lilac said.
A very clear reference to the character that Emily Browning played in Sucker Punch (2011).
Surprisingly, the henchpeople looked a little startled at that, as did Lulu, but Esme laughed. “Sounds like my kind of girl!” she said. “I drowned an ex once. So did you, dear, right?”
Olaf was taking another swig of wine, so they couldn’t exactly see his reaction.
Olaf “drowning an ex” is a reference to the Netflix show canon, where he left Georgina Orwell under a bridge to drown.
His reaction being hidden is because, for obvious reasons, he doesn’t quite want to talk about murdered parents.
“Well, I’m Elliot,” Klaus said, “And this is my other head, Janus.”
Janus was a Roman god with two faces.
“And that down there,” Lilac said, pointing her thumb at Solitude, “Is our little pet gorgon. We call ‘er Euryale, cause her actual name is just a buncha hisses.”
Euryale was one of Medusa’s sisters in Greek Mythology.
Chapter Thirty - in which the Baudelaires put on a show
But as they started to leave, they heard a low rumble, and Nick immediately grabbed onto Klaus’s arm and let out a nervous gasp that was, thankfully, missed in the noise.
Nick recognizes the sound of Olaf’s car.
Chapter Thirty-One - in which the Baudelaires play fortune teller
“Or maybe,” Nick said, very quietly, keeping his eyes shut tight, “They were told not to find us.”
Nick learned a lot about VFD during his captivity, including their recruitment. He’s worried that their surviving parent may be ready to give them up to the organization.
Nick grabbed a selection of paper, staring curiously, and then he quickly tried to shove it back, but Klaus’s eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of it, and he grabbed it from his brother.
Nick, once again, sees the name “Snicket” and assumes the worst.
Chapter Thirty-Two - in which the Baudelaires are asked to murder
“No, thank you.” Esme said, looking down a Sunny and frowning. “I’m afraid I don’t like cinnamon in chocolate anymore, the woman who introduced it to me recently perished in a fire. But it’s very kind of you to offer.”
The Baudelaires received their taste for cinnamon in hot chocolate from their mother.
“Sounds good.” Kevin said. “I’ve committed crimes before. Why, when I was no older than Elliot and Janus-”
A reference to the theory that Kevin from ASOUE is the same as Kevin Old from File Under: 13 Suspicious Incidents, who committed vandalism and thievery.
Chapter Thirty-Three - in which someone is pushed to the lions
“I’m sure you are.” Olaf smirked, and he reached forwards and put a cold hand on Nick’s cheek. Nick tried very hard not to cry, but he wasn’t succeeding very well. “Now go jump into that pit. We want to see you devoured by lions.”
Olaf, who knows that the freaks are the Baudelaires, specifically picked Klaus and Nick to sacrifice to the lions specifically to torment Nick more; he knows what effect he has on him, and is relishing it. Once the boys are gone, they can grab the rest of the Baudelaires and escape.
“I wish we had a cartographer with us.” Violet sighed.
A reference to the next book, where Violet will have a relationship with Quigley, a cartographer.
Chapter Thirty-Four / Epilogue - in which they should have said something
“Come on.” Bertrand said, taking Violet’s hands and spinning her as she giggled. “It’s Duke Ellington. That’s your fav, Li.”
A reference to All the Wrong Questions.
“What song is this?” Violet asked.
Beatrice smiled over at Soli, who was curled up on Nick’s lap, biting his sweater. “It’s got a very special name, isn’t that right, dear?” Solitude giggled.
“Solitude”, by Duke Ellington, likely Ellington’s song in All the Wrong Questions.
“Dashiell if it’s a boy,” Bertrand replied, “Sunny if it’s a girl.”
“Dashiell” after Dashiell Qwerty from All the Wrong Questions.
“We could adopt one of the outdoors animals.” Nick suggested. Beatrice and Bertrand turned to look at him.
“The what?” Bertrand asked.
“I keep hearing animals outside my window, every now and again.” Nick shrugged. “Howling or yipping or sometimes breaking a branch. Maybe if we brought them into the house, they wouldn’t get in so much trouble.”
Recruitment attempts that have not been working, because Beatrice and Bertrand refuse to let their children join VFD.
She turned to a selection of beach photos, slowly pulling out a small picture of baby Lilac, sitting on Briny Beach. It hadn’t been the first time she’d seen the ocean, but she’d still been so excited to splash in the water.
Since Lilac was born eleven months before Violet, it’s likely she was born on the island.
#asoue#asoue netflix#asoue movie#a series of unfortunate events#six baudelaires au#six baudelaires bonus#six baudelaires official fic#six baudelaires reference guide#mine
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The One About the Hermit Crabs
I haven’t really posted anything original lately. Life took a big dump on me back in January & I’m just starting to crawl out of the rubble. I’m not sure where I’d be without the kind and generous support of my friends @vkelleyart @argylefetish & @carryonsimoncarryonbaz. You guys were a rainbow spark of light in a pretty dark time. The rest of you: fic writers, artists, meme posters, rebloggers and the like. You helped too. Opportunities to focus on something besides drowning.
Anyway. Enough about that.
Here’s a lil’ uni AU Snowbaz fic that I wrote. It was inspired by a prompt from @carryonsimoncarryonbaz. Her prompt brought back memories of my 90′s dorm room, and my 2000′s hermit crab phase. The fic and some bonus material are beneath the cut ;)
The One About the Hermit Crabs
Word Count: 1315
Summary: It was a routine room inspection. Typically, I just look around for contraband. A quick scan for illegal cooking devices, alcohol stashes and the like. “This room is a shit show, Snow. Are you hiding a body in here?"
Simon and Baz are suitemates in their uni dorm. Just to notch up the tension a bit, Baz is also the RA and he's got a job to do.What will Simon do to convince Baz to let him keep his illegal but beloved pets?
Read on AO3
Baz:
It was a routine room inspection. Typically, I just look around for contraband. A quick scan for illegal cooking devices, alcohol stashes and the like. Simon’s room is a deplorable disaster as usual. The only clean area is a path on the floor from the bed, to the bathroom, to the wardrobe, to the door. Every other horizontal surface in this room is strewn with clothes, paper and books. The walls are a nonsensical hodgepodge of band posters, concert flyers, newspaper comics, and photos. He lives like an animal.
Simon is splayed across his bed, pencil behind his ear, eating salt and vinegar crisps (Are those mine? WTF?). He glances up from his physics book, “To what do I owe this honor Mr. Baz?”
I’m pretty sure he’s being sincere with the “Mr. Baz” shit. Not a trace of snark or sarcasm. I’m his age for snake’s sake, I just happen to the RA of this god-forsaken shithole dorm. It’s not like I’m the queen.
“This room is a shit show, Snow. Are you hiding a body in here?”
Did Simon’s eyes just widen a little?
In the ensuing silence, there’s a pop, like a pebble thrown at glass.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask, scanning the room.
Simon sits up in his bed, eyes definitely wide. “What was what?” He stammers.
Well, this just got interesting.
I hear a brief crunching sound, like gravel shifting.
The color drains from Simons face, turning his skin a lighter shade of tawny, his moles lonely sentinels in stark contrast to the surrounding skin. It’s lovely, really, like tiny archipelagos in a sunset sea.
Focus, Baz.
I shoot Simon my finest glare, “What. The fuck. Are you hiding, Snow?”
Now that I think about it, does this room smell fishy? I had initially attributed the scent to masculine funk, but this has a marine edge to it. Fishy and gamey.
Snow has jumped to his feet and is in my face now. Well, technically three inches below my face, but somehow his presence seems to inhabit the space. He just fills it with sheer will, and I want to melt.
My heart races as I take a deep breath, I fucking hate conflict in general. Conflict with Simon is particularly difficult because it’s simultaneously edged with, well, an overwhelming desire to knock him down and snog the living daylights out of him.
“Don’t you need a warrant to search this room?” Simon exclaims.
I exhale. Slowly. I growl (probably a little louder than necessary) “No, you imbecile. This is uni, not the real world. I’m the RA here, and I get to do what I wish.” I stretch to my full height and glower down at Simon for full threatening effect. Truth be told, I just want to run away and let him be, but I have a job to do.
I reluctantly turn my back to Snow and search for the source of the noise.
“Can we just talk about this, Baz?” Simon changes tack, imploring now.
I ignore him and eye a particularly large pile of clothes on the dresser.
He grabs my shoulder as I make my way to the pile.
“Baz, STOP.”
I whirl on him, my shoulder on fire where he touched it. Fuck this. “The university has a strict no animals in the dorm rooms policy. It is my responsibility to enforce such policy, so back the fuck off and let me do my job.”
I sweep aside the pile of clothes to reveal an aquarium, over half filled with dirt, with a glass lid. The surface of the dirt consists of a lovingly arranged warren of sticks and plants, a wide, shallow bowl of clean water and a bowl of what looks like dead shrimp and egg shells.
“Dammit Snow, what is this, a terrarium?”
Simon’s cheeks redden. He looks at his feet.
“It’s a crabitat.” He replies.
“A what?”
Simon shoves his hands into his pockets, looks up at the popcorn ceiling, and takes a breath.
“Crabitat. For Calvin and Hobbes.” He exhales.
“Are you even speaking English?” I ask
He looks at me now. His eyes are blue. The color of a clear spring sky after a week of rain. A brilliant blue that I want to dive into, get lost in. Fuck. Are those tears?
“Calvin and Hobbes are my pet hermit crabs. I’ve had them for months, and I love them. They’re actually really cool, and for fucks sake Baz, can you please get your head out of your ass and just pretend you never saw this?”
I think he’s actually about to cry. He looks adorable right now. Full stop.
I cock my eyebrow. “What’s in it for me?” (What am I even doing right now? I’m resorting to bribery. What’s next? A life of crime?)
Simon brightens. “I’ll help you with your calculus homework. I see you working on it all the time in the library. You don’t seem to enjoy it.”
“Nobody enjoys calculus, you dolt.”
“I do.”
I curve my lips up and down and scrunch my eyebrows at him incredulously. “There’s something wrong with you.”
I allow myself to think, yes! Fuck yes! Teach me math. In your bed. Or mine (fewer crumbs). All night, until we fall asleep together and I wake up in your arms and smooth the ruffled curls off your forehead. Then you kiss me with your moles and your morning breath and call me darling. We skip class and snog all day, until our lips are sore. Rinse and repeat.
I do not allow myself to think about Simon noticing me at the library. Intuiting that I absolutely abhor calculus and anything having to do with math. Hours spent, trying to make sense of it all. What did he notice? Why did he notice?
“I know.” Simon interrupts my reverie. He smiles. “I love math. It just makes sense. It’s constant and predictable.” He looks away, “Unlike pretty much everything else in my life.”
I’m not sure what he’s talking about. He’s the golden child, here on a full academic scholarship. Internet famous for pulling a bunch of kids out of a fire at a care home years ago. He’s charming, devastatingly handsome, kind, and everybody loves him. Including me (in case you haven’t figured that out yet).
Fuck, what’s that look? He seems…sad? Thoughtful? This conversation is quickly leaning towards relational. The last thing I need is to talk about his feelings.
Time to change the subject.
“Aren’t crabs insects? You can’t love an insect, Snow. Get rid of them.”
Simon lowers his eyebrows, “They’re arthropods. They’re funny and cute, and I do love them, so you can fuck right off.”
Then he takes my hands. Why is he taking my hands? I should punch him. (I won’t punch him. I won’t hurt him.)
He’s looking into my eyes again. I can’t escape his piercing, devastating gaze. I lean away. Can he see my pulse racing? I’ll do anything for him. Anything.
“Baz. You’re right, they’re just glorified bugs. They’re not causing any trouble.” His voice is like butter and honey, “Nobody will notice them.” He actually smirks at me, “It’s not like they’re going to shit on the rug or chew up the furniture.”
“It’s against the rules.” I respond. Weakly.
“Please, Baz.”
Puppy dog eyes.
Fuck.
“Fine. Keep your disgusting creatures, but you will help me with my calculus homework.”
“Deal,” Simon proclaims.
He’s still holding my hands. Has he forgotten that he’s holding my hands? Has he forgotten what it means to hold hands? He smells like bacon and intensity and looks like something I want to lick. Everywhere. I’m going to let him keep his ridiculous comic strip hermit crabs and he’s going to tutor me in math.
Crawley, what have I gotten myself into?
Bonus content:
A photo of my actual dorm room in the 90′s, the inspiration for Simon’s:
#carry on#my fic#uni AU#simon snow#baz pitch#snowbaz#tyrannus basilton grimm pitch#there are original dead milkmen concert flyers on the wall#bonus pic#i can't believe this took all day#it's just 1k words#oh geez#im still a train wreck#but thats ok#hermit crabs#baz pining
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Words On My Skin Part 16
Bucky Barnes x Reader (Soulmate AU)
A/N: Sorry this took so long! If you guys read my updates, you would have seen that my WIFI has been down for most of the week! Honestly, Century Link can just… burn in hell... They came today to ‘fix’ stuff, and NOPE! Not fixed. Using my mobile hotspot to post, and it’s slow af!
*This part is a filler, but has important information!*
Warnings: Bucky holding a baby... *heart eyes*
Main Masterlist // WOMS Masterlist
“Alright, kid. Work with me, here.” You huffed out, for the third time, trying to wrangle the squirming baby – Farida’s son, Ilyas – into a good position to burp him. The burp cloth covered the whole left side of your shirt and shoulder, since you’d made the rookie mistake of not wearing it, once before. “You’re going to start getting pretty pissed off, if that burp doesn’t come out, soon.”
The little guy squirmed in response, a little whine squeaking out as he tried to burrow is face into the burp cloth.
You were tasked with the job of babysitting Ilyas, while Farida and her husband went to some work party on the Upper East Side, since Farida had texted you – freaking out that the party was last-minute, and they didn’t have anyone to watch him. She’d begged you to babysit, remembering how good you were with children when you’d met her family back in college, and you’d agreed with the condition that it was in the compound – since you were still technically working, and had mountains of paperwork to do.
She’d been so thankful that she’d brought you a succulent to put on your desk – the cactus with the red ball on top that you had to Google how to take care of – and a giant container of her mom’s recipe of a fish curry. She’d even gone as far as wearing the silky, floral scarf you’d sent her from when you’d shopped with Wanda at some name brand store – claiming it was so nice, she was going to wear it with her black dress to the work party.
“Knock, knock.” You heard from the doorway, just as Ilyas let out a large belch from your consistent patting on his back.
Perfect timing!
Glancing up, you grinned at Bucky – who was coming in with a large bag of take-out and a drink tray, “You’re my savior, right now. I’m starving.”
He startled, glancing down at the little boy who was currently spitting up on the burp rag placed over your chest. You picked a bad day to wear a white blouse. “Who’s this?”
“Farida’s son, Ilyas.” You laughed, wiping the baby’s mouth and turning him around so he could stare at Bucky and bang his slobbery hands on your desk. “She asked me to watch him while her and her husband go to some party for his work, or something. You missed Claire, by the way. Caleb brought her in and she played with the baby, while I finished typing up some forms for the new recruits.”
“Thank god I missed the two of you, together.” He snorted, plopping down in the chair and unpacking the food. “Last time, you both ganged up on me and stuck a bunch of magnets on my arm.” He passed you your container of French fries, stealing one from the open container and popping it in his mouth as he opened more containers. When he was done chewing, he continued, “Also, I had to take a dish scrubber to my hand, because the slime you guys were making got stuck between the plates of my fingers.”
“Poor you.” You giggled, shifting the food away from Ilyas’s reach, and opening the container that housed your sandwich. “You had fun, don’t even whine.”
“Maybe so,” He pointed his fork at you, leaning back in the chair and running his free hand through his tangled hair, “but you and Claire like to scheme when you’re together. It’s dangerous.”
You rolled your eyes, remembering when you and Claire kept sneaking up on Bucky – who probably knew exactly what you were up to, due to his insane hearing – and sticking magnets on him. Until, finally, he’d just grumbled and stuck out his arm for you and Claire to mess around with. Claire had a lot of questions, while playing with some letter magnets and spelling out names.
Anyways, he’d gotten you back on the mats, later…
Okay, that sounds dirty.
He made you do a lot of cardio.
…Still sounds dirty.
Jesus Christ.
“You’re good with him.” Bucky commented, staring at you while you shifted Ilyas around and brushed your hands over his dark hair, “I’ve never seen you with any other children but Claire… When did you become the baby whisperer?”
“I’m not sure that I am.” You smiled, while the baby played with the buttons on your shirt and laid his head on your chest, chewing on his tongue. “I babysat a couple times when I was in middle school and high school… but that was only for my friend’s little sister, when I wasn’t working at the coffee shop.”
“How’d you work at the coffee shop without your mom findin’ out?”
“I was supposed to be making the money by tutoring, but I worked a few towns away, instead.” You nabbed a fry from the container, taking a small bite. It had been a really small coffee shop, one that made specialty drinks but wasn’t popular enough to draw the attention of your parents. There was a slight suspicion that your father knew you were working, having seen your apron in your car once, but he never said a word. Your mother was the one who would’ve had a cow, anyways… and that she did. “I worked on the weekends, early in the morning. I left before my parents were awake and stashed my money in a safe in my closet. Our housekeeper was the only one who knew that I had a stash of money, but she never said anything. She covered for me, a lot… Until my mom found out I was working and forced me to quit.”
“You had a housekeeper?” He asked in surprise, eyebrows almost shooting up to his dark hairline. His dark hair was brushing into his face, which blocked the view a bit. “How big was the house?”
“My parents are pretty loaded.” You shrugged, the usual feeling of disdain in your chest. “They’re the stereotypical rich type. We had hired help, my parents travelled a lot, and we were part of country clubs… all that.” You grabbed your water, taking a sip and pushing back all the memories of forced tutors, forced dates, forced friendships, and diets. “I hated it. Everyone was so… awful.”
“What about other family?” He handed stole another fry from your container, replacing it with the pickles from his burger. “You don’t talk about them much.”
“My grandparents are kind of spread out around the world. I’ve never actually met them.” Ilyas shifted in your arms, pressing his cheek against your chest as his eyes started to droop heavily. “My mom’s parents lived in London for a long time, but I’m not sure where they are, now. I haven’t heard from them in years. I think they’re divorced, now.” You furrowed your brows, trying to remember where your mom’s sister lived. “I think my aunt lives in Paris, or something… I don’t know.”
“What about your dad’s side?”
“My dad was born in South Africa, actually.” You smiled, remembering the story that your dad used to tell you, back in the day. “His parents loved to travel the world, but when my grandma got pregnant, they slowed down for a while. They ended up in an accident, and my dad was born in… I can’t remember where… Close to the coast, I think.” God, it had been so long since you’d heard the story. “The accident was pretty bad, but one of the doctors saved my grandmother and my dad. They named my dad after him. Bokamoso. His friends call him ‘Bo’, though.” You rolled your eyes. “Apparently, they think his name is ‘too hard to pronounce’… which is completely stupid. I like the name.”
“When did they move to America?”
“My dad’s lived in America since he was young, but my mom didn’t move here until college. It’s where they met.”
That one took some prying, because they – surprisingly – met at a giant, booze-fest party. Your mother refused to tell you the story, deeming it inappropriate for her child to know, but your father told you the story – once you got a few beers him.
They’d gotten hammered, rolled around in a ditch for a few hours, and started dating by the next week.
You chose to forget the gory details that you’d received with your father’s colorful storytelling.
“We lived in California after I started middle school, because my mom wanted me to get a decent education and not fall behind from moving, like she almost did.” You finished your last french-fry, moving on to the pickles that Bucky had given you off his burger. “They continued to travel, but I was left home with the nanny.”
“If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?” He suddenly asked, cleaning up some of the mess on your desk with a small smirk lifting his cheeks.
“I don’t… I don’t really know…” With a frown, you handed him your empty container that used to contain your sandwich, dinking some more water before continuing, “I think I’d like to see where my parents are from… Or, maybe, see what Rome looks like.”
“Why Rome?”
“The history is interesting.” Gently, you moved the baby into his car seat, placing his soft blanket over his sleeping body as he twitched once – giving you a mild heart-attack – and fell back into his deep slumber. “What about you? Where would you go?”
“Wakanda.” He grinned, playing with the plates on his vibranium fingers as he talked, “I know I’ve already been there, but I only got to be there for a year or two… I miss it. There’s a lot of cool things to learn. The people in Wakanda were the first people to treat me like ‘Bucky Barnes’, instead of ‘The Winter Soldier’. Especially after I got my trigger words removed.”
“Shuri is the one who did that, right?” The kid who sends him all the memes and funny videos. “She removed them?”
He nodded, glancing up with a large grin. God, he had such a cute smile… “She also made the arm your so obsessed with.”
He had a point. You were kind of obsessed.
“I happen to think it’s awesome. Who doesn’t want a soulmate with a vibranium arm to stick magnets on?” You teased, stacking your paperwork into little ‘done’ and ‘not done’ piles. “Regular arms are boring.”
Glancing down at his phone with a snort, he pulled something up on his phone and showed it to you. It was the ‘notes’ in his phone, with little random reminders and memories saved in them. “I don’t remember much of my own past, but I did remember something that I’ve been thinking about since I saw you holding Ilyas.”
“You don’t have a love-child out there, do you?” You snorted, tone joking. “I heard about your wild times in the thirties and forties. You got all the ladies.”
“If there are, I don’t know about them.” He rolled his eyes, shoving the phone back in his sweatshirt pocket with a small smile. “Anyways, I still have a lot of missing pieces, but there was a random memory that came back when I was in Wakanda. I saw a woman feeding her baby, and it reminded me of when our neighbor had a little one. My sister, Rebecca, used to babysit for the neighbor and bring the baby back into our apartment. I think I helped a few times, but I was more concerned about going out with my friends and datin’ pretty dames.”
“Too bad for all the ladies in this century.” You leaned forward, snatching Bucky’s to-go cup full of pop and taking a sip of the carbonated, sugary, delicious liquid. God, how long has it been since you’ve indulged in sugary drinks? Yesterday, Y/n. Yesterday. Calm down. “You’re taken.”
“That I am.” He raised an eyebrow at you, unamused at the theft. “I was going to drink that, you know.”
“Mine, now.” You grinned, holding the pop close to your chest so he couldn’t steal it back. “Sucks to suck.”
“So, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” His face switched into a neutral look, not betraying any emotion – though, his anxiety spiked slightly through the bond. “We kind of talked a little about it, but… what… What did you and Natasha exactly talk about, the other day? Is she going to be nicer to you?”
Oh… Ugh.
Did you really need to dive back into this topic?
“Yeah… She, uh, she said that she was jealous.” There was a faint twitch in his eyebrow at your words, but his face remained neutral, so you continued, “She told me that you were sleeping together before we got together, but you ended it.” You took another sip of the bubbly liquid, wishing that the cold coke would wash down the awkward feeling in your chest. A lump was starting to form, and images of the two of them together were starting to flash in the back of your mind, but you forced yourself not to react. You were going to be mature about this. You were going to act like the adult that you were, and not freak out. It was before you. “She said that she really liked you and she was jealous, that’s why she was a little… standoffish.”
“A little?” He snorted, lips lifting slightly. His eyes still held no emotion, but you didn’t need to look at him to know how he was feeling. You could feel it, yourself. Anxiety, mixed with a slight anger, and a dash of annoyance. “So… We never really talked about how you took the news. We kinda’ brushed over it.”
“What do you want me to say?” You leaned back in your chair, inhaling through your nose and closing your eyes for a moment, wishing that this moment would end. “I wish that it had been you who told me… though, I understand why you didn’t. It’s really none of my business, anyways. I just… didn’t like hearing it from her.”
“I didn’t want to tell you, because… well… I didn’t know how to bring it up, first of all.” You saw his adam’s apple bob when you finally lifted your lids to look at him. He was starting to trace the plates along his palm, again, which he did when he was nervous. “I didn’t think it was something you’d want to know.”
“It’s really not. That’s why I understand you not telling me.” Glancing down at your cellphone, you realized how late it was starting to get. The lights on that side of the compound were bright enough that you wouldn’t have even noticed through your office window that the sun had already set. “I just… I didn’t like hearing it come from her mouth. Especially the way she said it.”
His body went ridged, “How did she say it?”
“I’d rather not-”
“How did she say it?” He repeated, eyes tightening in anger. His voice didn’t raise in volume, but the annoyance he was feeling bled into his tone – which felt just like yelling. “Was she rude about it? Do I need to talk to her about it? What’d she say?”
“Bucky. Calm down, okay?” You snapped, crossing your arms and looking away, refusing to make eye contact. “It was as if she was trying to pick a fight, but I didn’t fight with her. It wasn’t anything bad. It’s over, and we’re fine. I’d rather drop it, please.”
The room was quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being your breathing and Ilyas’s quiet snores from his car seat. You could faintly hear footsteps from outside your office, and the quiet chatter of agents walking down the hallway, but the room was awkwardly silent.
Which you were awful at handling awkward silences.
You squirmed in your seat, fingers tracing along the hemline of your pencil skirt and glancing down at your freshly painted toes, which were visible since you’d taken your heels off hours ago.
God, someone say something!
Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long, because he exploded.
“I just don’t get it!” He sprung up from his chair, and you flinched – though he didn’t notice, because he was too busy pacing the length of your office, from one side to the other. “Why the hell does she pick now to talk to you about it? Why the hell didn’t she talk about this months ago?” He stopped, throwing his hands up in frustration. “She still won’t even talk to me unless it’s work related. We used to be friends!”
Ah. So that’s what this was about.
You raised an eyebrow, not moving from your position in your chair, but glancing over at the sleeping baby, praying that he didn’t startle awake at Bucky’s little drama-show.
He continued to rant, frustration ebbing into your chest from the bond, and bleeding into your own feelings – but you didn’t say a word. You just watched him, eyes moving back and forth as he paced like a caged lion, anger coming off him in waves. You were listening to him, and you understood his frustration… but it was a little awkward, you had to admit.
“Are you done?” You finally spoke, as he halted his pacing, opting to cross his arms and stand by your window, watching agents bustle around the grounds like he was judging each and every person down there. “Bucky?”
His shoulders sagged, but he continued to stare out the window. “I just… Since I’ve gotten parts of myself back, I’ve realized just how few friends I really have. I lost most of them to the war, and old age.” A pang of sadness – from your end of the bond and his – tightened in your chest. “There are so few people in my life that I care about, and I don’t want to lose anyone in my new life. I already lost too many people I care about.”
“…and you don’t want to lose Natasha, too?” You supplied, voice quiet and calming, though you were entirely heartbroken for your soulmate. You stood, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his middle, resting your forehead on his back. His arms moved so he could rest them along yours, and you felt his breathing begin to even out. You waited until he was fully calm to continue, “I’m sorry.”
A breathy chuckle escaped his lips, and you felt the muscles in his abdomen clench with each little chuckle. “Why the hell are you apologizing, sweetheart?”
“I just… I don’t like that you’ve lost so much.” You sighed, snuggling into the warmth of his back and twisting your hand so you could entwine your fingers. “Breaks my heart.”
He pulled you around, so you were snuggled into his chest instead; and he could wrap his arms around you, tightly. You shifted your arms, wrapping them around his neck and tightly pulling him close. You wanted to wrap him in your arms forever, until all negative feelings in that man were gone. He didn’t deserve it. He’d had nothing but loss since HYDRA. Too long had HYDRA stripped him of his life, his body, and mind. He deserved so much better.
You breathed in his smell, warmth chasing away all the negativity in the bond, leaving you calm and content with staying in his arms for the rest of your life. You listened to his heartbeat slow to a regular pace, his breathing back to normal. You felt the warmth of his breath on the crown of your head, as his face pressed into your hair, breathing you in just as much as you were breathing him in.
“You make it better.” He finally murmured, his voice vibrating through his chest, and the side of your face tingled. “You make me better.”
You hummed, pulling back slightly when you heard a small whine coming from the car seat. Baby’s awake. You shifted so your hands were cupping his face, fingertips lightly pressed against his bearded jaw as you looked up into his ice-blue eyes, which gleamed with adoration. “You should talk to Natasha, okay? Tell her that you don’t want to lose her friendship.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch as the baby’s whines morphed into shrill cries. “Okay… I will.”
“Good.” You smiled, sliding your hands down to his chest, before detangling yourself to pick up the angry child. Spotting the next day’s itinerary, you cursed under your breath. “Oh, I forgot. You have a haircut, tomorrow morning. The whole team have hair appointments, before the show.”
“Do I have to do another stupid interview?” Bucky grumbled, moving back to his chair as you grabbed a bottle from the little cooler to heat up in the hot water of your sink. He held out his arms, taking the pissed off baby while you scurried to warm the bottle quickly. “The last thing I want to do is another one of those shows where they sit you in a chair, in front of an audience, and ask you a million personal questions.” He shifted the baby into the crook of his flesh arm, trying not to use his metal arm; though, that was all the baby was concerned with, once he noticed it. “Makes me feel like I’m back in Dr. Collins’s office. I hate it.”
“Well, everyone’s doing it.” You replied, exiting the bathroom with a bowl of hot water from the sink, and sticking the capped bottle in the bowl to heat it up. “You have more fans, than haters, anyways.”
“No, I don’t.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he gave in and let Ilyas play with his hand, careful that the baby didn’t try to stick Bucky’s metal fingers in his mouth. Wow, he looked damn good holding a baby. Shut up, hormones. “I’m pretty sure that the majority still think I’m a terrorist.”
“You’ve proven that you’re willing to get better.” You insisted, finishing organizing your papers, before nabbing your phone and quickly snapping a photo of Bucky before he could protest. You had to document the first time you’ve ever seen the man holding a baby. It was hot. “Anyways, have you looked at social media? I don’t see as many trolls on your posts, anymore. If anything, it’s a bunch of horny people wondering what else you can do with that metal arm.”
His eyes widened, choking a little as his cheeks tinging red in embarrassment. He looked absolutely horrified. “What?”
“Oh, my god.” You laughed loudly, shaking your head as you grabbed the bottle from the bowl and passed it to Bucky, “You need to read the comments, more. They’re hilarious.”
“You read the comments?” He grimaced, adjusting the baby so he could feed him. He glanced at his phone like it was diseased, “Are they on the pictures of you and I, too?”
“Unfortunately.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone off the desk and scrolling through some of the pictures on your profile. You hadn’t had many photos before your time at the compound, but there were a couple new ones. Mostly of Bucky, Wanda, or food. There was one that Tony had taken of himself when you’d left your phone unattended, with the caption ‘#blessed to be hacked by Iron Man, himself. -TS’. “Honestly, I think people mostly follow my social media to catch a glimpse of you or the team… Though, I don’t really post much else. Maybe some food pictures.”
“Mine’s not much different.” He stood, passing you the baby and setting the empty bottle on the desk. “Are you done with your work?”
“Why? What do you have in mind?” You raised an eyebrow, grabbing the rag to quickly burp the baby before you left your office. “Can I wear sweatpants?”
“Netflix marathon, sweat pants, and popcorn?”
“I’m in.”
Part 17
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The Wrong Side
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: When she’s on the wrong side
Requested: Yeah!
“You’re pretty young to be on the wrong side of the law,” a voice sounded out form behind the girl. She whipped around, instinctively forming an energy ball between her hands.
“You don’t know shit about me,” she says at the red and blue hero in front of her. Her words come out as a snarl and Spider-Man lets out an easy laugh.
“I guess we’re even then,” he says. Y/N lets out a hollow laugh before shooting the energy ball his way and making a break for it out of the alleyway before Spider-Man can cotton on to what just happened. “That was rude!” He calls breathlessly as he shoots webs in a desperate attempt to follow her.
But the girl has disappeared, seemingly into thin air. Peter frowns at that, not liking it that an obviously dangerous villain was walking the streets and he hadn’t been able to stop her.
“Karen? Can you alert Mr Stark that there’s an enhanced individual at large in Queens?” He asks.
“Certainly Peter,”
Mr Stark had been asking Peter to text him more seriously when there was an actual matter at hand, rather than his usual texts that consisted of stringing popular memes and vines together into a sentence that took Tony hours to decipher.
Which was why Peter was not surprised that almost immediately Karen informed him of an incoming call.
“Kid? What’s happened?” Tony asks immediately.
“There was this girl,” he says and Tony lets out an impatient sigh.
“I don’t have time to listen about your crushes, kid,” he says.
“No, no, no, wait Mr Stark!” Peter insists. “It’s not like that!”
“Then what’s it like?” Tony asks, frustrated.
“She’s... enhanced. Like Miss Maximoff, she was robbing the bank a few streets away from where I live,” he tells his mentor, who looks more interested now that he realises that Peter is not talking about his love life.
“Did you see what she looked like?” Tony asks.
“Kinda, she was wearing a black hoodie that covered her face so not so much,” Peter admits. “Sorry, Mr Stark,”
“Don’t worry, kid, we’ll keep an eye out for her. Thanks for bringing it to my attention,”
There was a click, indicating the end of the call and Peter let out a sigh, still feeling bothered by the clearly dangerous girl being on the lose, and yet there was a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that maybe she wasn’t dangerous so much as misled. He knew that something bad was likely to happen to her should Mr Stark find her before he did.
“You know that’s definitely illegal, right?” the girl turned around and Peter could see her roll her eyes through the slits in her mask. “Nice suit,” Peter comments, grinning despite knowing that she couldn’t see him.
“Whatever, Spiderling,” the girl snaps, already forming an energy ball between her hands. Peter is quick to send a web her way, forcing one of her hands to secure against the building behind her.
“That really hurt,” Peter mocks, rather enjoying himself is he was being honest. “But you know you don’t have to do this,”
“Do what?” the girl asks and Peter can feel how murderous her glare is.
“Any of this, the illegal shit, living on the run, whatever it is that you do,”
“You’re a kids super-hero, you’re not meant to swear,” the girl says and Peter notices the green wisps climbing up her arm, slowly melting through the web that was keeping her in the same place. “And, as you said last time, we know nothing about each other so don’t lecture me on how to live my fucking life,” she hisses and Peter laughs bitterly, shaking his head.
“Crime isn’t the way to go, you can’t be much older than me,”
“Sometimes you don’t have a choice in the matter,” she’s quick to bite back with, just as the last of the web melts away and she pushes her hands forwards, towards him and Peter is knocked back by the force of her energy ball.
“There’s always a choice between right and wrong!” Peter shouts, shooting a web, desperately trying to stop the girl from moving.
“And sometimes you don’t get to make the choice yourself,”
She was called the Black Shadow. Months had past and it had become common knowledge to the people of Queens that Spider-Man and the Black Shadow were pretty much arch-enemies.
Peter had made it his mission to catch her and for once, it wasn’t to impress Mr Stark and the Avengers.
He felt bad for the girl.
Peter could tell that she felt as though she had been backed into a corner, in every interaction that the two of them had had, she had let another little thing slip, and he was beginning to piece them all together, beginning to understand her.
But he wasn’t the only one on her trail, since the Black Shadow had been becoming more and more of a threat to the people of New York, the Avengers had started getting involved.
Whenever Peter found a lead on her, Mr Stark was constantly on his back to get him to share, insisting that he wanted to help him take her down, as if that was all this was about.
But it wasn’t just about taking the Black Shadow down anymore, it was about helping her.
Somehow or another, throughout his time fighting the girl, because that truly was all that she was, Peter realised that he wanted to help her more than anything in the world. And he couldn’t tell the Avenger’s that, he’d be a laughing stock.
And that was why he found himself to be utterly devastated when he got the call from Mr Stark.
“Kid? We’ve got her,”
“Where are you sending her?” Peter asks, his knee is bouncing nervously as he sits in the back of the car with Mr Stark, Happy driving them towards the Avenger’s compound.
“Wherever will take her,”
“And if nowhere will?” Because he knows that it’s a possibility and a high one at that, given the Black Shadow’s recent intense criminal record.
Mr Stark doesn’t answer.
Peter’s fingers start to drum on the car door.
“So you’re Spider-Man,” she sounds different to how he remembers her, tireder, more hopeless.
But maybe that’s just because this time he can actually see her.
Her hair is messy and unwashed, dark circles under her eyes, her skin pale and her wrists are stick thin. Worst of all, she had a collar around her neck, one he had been told was to ensure that her powers would be unusable. Peter had asked Wanda about it before he had come in, knowing that she had had similar treatment and she had admitted that it was horrific.
But she was undeniably pretty.
Peter wasn’t good around pretty girls.
“That’s me,” his voice is quiet and shy and he hates himself for it. Her eyes narrow slightly and for a brief second he sees the Black Shadow in the girl before him.
“You’re different than I expected,”
“You’re chattier than I remember,” he bites back before his brain has time to process the words and the girl laughs.
“I didn’t know you had called the Avengers on me,” she says and then she scoffs, shaking her head. “What am I on about, of course you did,”
“What do you mean?” Peter asks, finding himself confused by the words. Maybe she wouldn’t be so hard to understand if he didn’t keep getting caught up staring at her features.
“I thought you were different,” she tells him honestly. “I know you let me get away,” Peter wishes he could deny her words, but they’re true and his mouth his dry and he can’t muster up any words at all. “But you’re like the rest of them,”
“What do you mean by that?” Peter implores, finally finding his tongue again.
“You don’t even think about why we do the things we do, do you?” She asks, letting out a mean, sharp laugh, “No one wants to have to live like this,” the silence that follows her words stretches out in between them and it seems infinite.
“There sending you away,”
“I know,”
“Do you know where?”
“No,” the silence falls between them again and it hits Peter all at once that he doesn’t want that to happen to the girl in front of her.
“They don’t have to,” he blurts out. She raises a single eyebrow. “You could join us - the team! Be on our side rather than...” Peter trails off, seeing the look on her face.
“Rather than the wrong side?” She fills in. Peter swallows, fearing that he already knew her answer. “To me, Spiderling, your side is the wrong side.” Peter clenches his jaw and nods.
“C’mon Black Shadow, time’s up, off you go!” Mr Stark announces, coming in and forces the girl up. She doesn’t say another word.
“Wait!” He calls, just before they exit the room. As for his next action, he’s not sure why he does it, what he expects to gain, but for some reason it feels important. “I-I’m Peter.”
And it’s worth it, to see the small smile grow on her face at hearing his words. Her eyes seem to soften and she just seems so human.
“Y/N,”
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