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siriusmydeer · 4 years ago

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pov:ur drunk as shit and remus is tryna take care of u and make sure u don’t get hurt and ur just telling him that he’s ruining the fun and he tells u he’s just trying to make sure nothing goes wrong and he puts u to bed and it’s all cute n shit😚 thanks bestie✊ also i’m such a big fan, i literally look up to u🥰

taking care of you

remus lupin x gender neutral!reader

summary: remus takes care of you while you’re drunk.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: mentions of throwing up, mentions of smoking marijuana, mentions of alcohol, getting drunk and high, remus taking care of reader, swearing, kissing, pet names, fluff !

a/n: were literally on ft wym fan😐 and 2. the reader is wearing makeup so it could be implied fem but idrk?

“Bugger off, Remus.” You groaned, your eager hand sluggishly pushing at the Lycanthropes stiff torso. He snorted at your fatigued behaviours in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room, the intense pungent scents of Cannabis and Firewhisky soaring through the dull air. After heartily partaking in drinking plenty of shots for the spectacled male’s birthday as it efficiently was a grand celebration in his eyes that, rightfully, deserved some smuggling of Alcohol.

Unfortunately, for you, as well as your moral dignity, Remus had inevitably found you indolently waving your arms (Terribly attempting to dance) among other students soothing their drinks and puffing a shortening blunt that the Hufflepuffs had supplied.

The first time Remus had wisely decided to seek and beckon you off to his dormitory was after you were sat upon the Vermillion loveseat and had inhaled the grey pungent smog, a scarlet tinge began to bloom in the ivory pigments of your irises after the smoke had that infested your lungs and swirled to your addled brain, a hazy sense taking over your optics as well as your senses.

As you persevered the blunt between your agile digits, the distinctive aroma seething through your lungs had escaped into your trachea causing frequent rasps to escape with difficulty from the carmine pit of your throat. As terribly embarrassing as it had undoubtedly felt post-coughing fit, you had jumped up upon one of the tables dramatically singing (Mind you; it was terrible singing) an ABBA track that was lingering through the wood as the baritones continued to spew from the magically induced speakers.

After your abrupt karaoke outburst that could’ve had sober peers intentionally throwing their overflowing cups at you, Marlene had finally beckoned you to the dance floor where Remus had discovered you dancing and shouting into oblivion; amid your unsober tangent, Remus had endeavoured to inevitably make you rest, but, you had mumbled incoherently about how he was ‘ruining James’ birthday fun.’ For genuinely wanting you to sleep soundly through a hangover like a normal human. But, he had only chuckled at your intoxicated insinuations.

“Bunny, I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get wounded!” He laughed once more as you continue to flail your arms around under the strobing lights that had varied between various hues. At his grip you began to whine, with a groan adamantly following when he grasped onto the curvature of your waist, essentially barricading your drastic movements. “But ‘m having s’much fun!” You slur in a mumble.

“‘M a big girl, don’t need your help” Your grumble is the least bit threatening as his brow raised counteractively. Removing his hands from your waist, he encased your cheeks in an enclasp causing a pinched expression to twist onto your intoxicated features, seemingly squishing your lips into a jutted point. Laughing at his actions as well as your contorted expression he placed a faint kiss to the tip of your nose before venturing to persuade you once more.

“If you come up to bed, I’ll buy you anything you want from Hogsmeade.”

“Remus you already do that when I’m sober.”

“If you don’t come to my dorm, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and bring you there myself.”

“You wouldn’t” Continuing to undoubtedly provoke him through your pout. He removed his hands from your face as well as beginning to slouch down to your level before you hastily backed away. “Fine, fine! If you carry me, I’ll puke!”As Remus instantly regained his height, he stretches out his hand, his warm tingling palms melds with your own whilst he hauls you towards the shallow staircase before your scrambled thoughts could change your mind.

“Have fun, Lupin!” A boisterous yell by the Gryffindor male is emitted through the common room, turning around abruptly he watches as Sirius promptly sends him a wink, merely receiving a lewd gesture of Remus’ finger as a response from the Lycanthrope. After forcibly returning you to his dormitory, you stumbled awkwardly upon his indigo trunk with a warm palm clutched frantically to your forehead, a light glaze of perspiration slick on your forehead.

“My head feels funny…” You slurred once the hazy shapes had begun to sufficiently clear from your vision.

“That’s what happens when you drink too much, Baby.”

“Shhh, too loud.” You carefully looked into his hazel optics unaccompanied by the usual reflection of auburn tones of mahogany and spring buds of viridescent, without the comforting hues of mocha brown and lincoln green that twinkled under the suns rays, you were bewildered as too why his optics were so dark in your bleared state, (Mind you the lights were off) While earnestly pressing your forefinger against his parched lips, it felt as if alphabet soup was stirred feebly in your disordered brain and pouring out of your lips.

“I’m— stomach hurts, head hurts, wanna cuddle.” You began to blubber out in delirium, completing your sentence by opening up your arms and expecting the boy to climb into your slouched arms.

“Gotta get you out of those clothes first.” Remus cooed, lifting you from his trunk which only emitted a tired moan from you. Naturally following a delicate kiss pressed to your forehead, he skillfully unlocked his trunk with one hand to pull out some clothes for you; his other having a heavy grip on your torso.

His palms intuitively grasping a loose Beatles T-Shirt additionally a pair of your night shorts you had left in his dormitory for when you slept there (Not without Sirius and James’ teasing as expected) After removing your uncomfortable shoes with a prominent stumble from you, he had begun to steadily dress you in more appropriate clothes to sleep in, his scent of vanilla soon about to enclose you in a warm clutched embrace.

“Could you go any slower?” After groaning for the umpteenth time, he chuckles, yet again, at your antics, “Would you like to spill your guts everywhere?”He inquires while tapping at your bum as a signal he had carefully finished dressing you.

“Oh fuck, I still have makeup on.” While mewling your sentence Remus had gently placed you upon on his bed, the woollen comforter tickling at your backside as you laid upon his bed to relieve the prodding agony that was tapdancing, like a dancer, around your skull. Snickering at your state, one of the faux eye-lashes glued to your lash line about to undoubtedly fall off your eye he retreated to the small bathroom that had been shared among the five boys with a slight shout, “Don’t go anywhere!”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You replied bluntly in a grumble. He steadily padded back to his bed you were sprawled upon, your eyes promptly falling shut as he gently dragged the wipe against your features, his thumb running against the clean textures of your cheek. Grabbing his thumb, you gently pressed a chaste kiss to his palm, furtherly placing it upon your cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always, Bunny, always.” His lips began to quirk up at your gentle demeanour amid his soft gaze you naturally began to doze off in a befuddled formality. “C’mon, let’s get you in bed.” Removing the cerise quilt, he twisted you onto your side in case during the night you would require the position due to the alcohol flipping in your stomach.

After alternating his clothes into some comfortable ones he situated himself in a tangle of your legs and an arm wrapped around your waist. He carefully pressed a final kiss to the crown of your head whilst instantly removing the dishevelled hair that clung to your exposed neck. “Goodnight Baby.” He murmured tenderly, his prominent chin falling above your head. “Love you.”

taglist: @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness @i-love-scott-mccall @artemis1orion @miss-starkov @siriusbarnesslut @inglourious-imagines @livvysnaps @medalloway-blog @wh0reforthemarauders

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sanstropfremir · 3 years ago

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we're back baby!!!

it's queendom 2 time!!

i was debating whether or not i wanted to start my review series with the intro stages or just straight in with the main episodes, but i figured that i started with the dance performance film for kingdom so i might as well just get going. also it might be nice to have a reference back to the very beginning when we get to the end. idk it never hurts to plan ahead. this isn't going to be super long because i need to exercise some restraint, but i'm going to note a few things that stood out for me for each of the stages and then when the show finally kicks off on the 31st we'll get into the proper reviews with all the formatting and the whole kit and caboodle.

ordering this in order of personal faves because they split it up over two days for some reason:

hyolyn

HELL FUCKIN YEA!!!! perfect example of understanding scale and how to use lighting and simple effects to get the best dramatics. keeping to very simple projections and block lighting keeps the focus tight on her, so when it draws out to the full stage you get the full oomf of all that space. she's the only person who used the stage architecture (which is cool as shit, hello!) to her advantage; all those angled lines draw right into the centre and right to her, which is exactly what you want when you're the soloist.

remember how i always bitch about people wearing all black on stage? well this is how you do all black RIGHT. there are two very different variations in texture and both are reflective, so by way of controlling the lighting you can control how much of her is illuminated very easily and you can still easily see her limbs when necessary. plus you get two very different eye effects with the bedazzling and the shininess of the faux leather, so it's always interesting to look at

brave girls

i said that they might not always be the most conceptually interesting group yesterday and brave girls said 'well fuck you'! love to be wrong, and love that they went for something that was quite thematicaly different from the rest of the groups. love the suits, the choreo isn't complicated but it had a good amount of interesting movements and although they kept the space small because there's only four of them, the big incandescent bulb panels throw so much bounce in the atmospheric haze that it lit up that black space to make it feel so much bigger. plus i liked that they had a fun geometric opening 'frame' and that they kept it all on the steadicam in one take, as that also helped constrain the focus. very neat and tidy, no unnecessary bells and whistles, very similar to hyolyn in that they showed a very strong understanding of how to use all the design elements in their favour.

wjsn

i'm not gonna lie, it's absolutely fucking HILARIOUS to me that three of these groups are astronomy themed. y'all thought having the three 'z' groups in kingdom was bad, this is so much funnier. did mnet purposefully pick the three groups with space concepts? idk. regardless, i really liked wjsn's stage. good use of depth with the projections and i liked the idea of the costume change, i just wish they had made the transition a little bit more seamless. that type of costume 'transformation' is super common (it's how disney does all their dress transformations for their stage shows), but the key with the tearaway upper is that you have to misdirect from the physical tearaway in order to actually make it look magical, and there's a very obvious telegraph from the girl who's centre shot just before the wide cut. potentially it could have been an editing issue, since they had the right idea with hiding behind a smoke burst, but it didn't really clear for me though. great stage otherwise.

loona

i'm not entirely sure what this was supposed to be, honestly. my initial guess from the costumes (very stereotypical contemp style) and the thick ground fog was that the intent was to pitch the stage as more focused on their dancing, but if that was the intent the dancing was not up to par. i also do not know what the reason was for the state/stage change in the middle? literally nothing changed other than the fog disappearing and that would have very quickly dissipated with movement, so...what was the point? was it so they could 'kick' the camera just for the hell of it? usually a camera cover like that has a specific reason (like in mx's rush hour) so when there isn't one the gesture feels very empty. i also wish they hadn't been in all white because the exposure is so blown out (and mnet films on fucking potatoes) that it's hard to tell what's happening, and especially so when the fog is thrown in the mix. i do really like that they stuck to a very narrow blue/purple colour palette and i loved the projections in the back half, but that might just be my love of celestial illustrations talking.

kep1er

personally i'm not a fan of cheedleader/bandleader type things and i'm doubly not a fan of the whole 'we are the queens/kings' thing groups on these shows do and i'm triply not a fan of constant group name saying IN the songs itself. they've already got sashes with the group name embroidered on, it's not necessary and the combo of everything pushed this into obnoxious territory for me. it also doesn't help that they blew the lights and projections way crazy for no real reason other than visual noise. i would have liked to see the choreography better because the girls are fairly good dancers, but there was some really weird camerawork happening here that was not very flattering to the stage as a whole and made some sequences look very awkward, which i doubt they actually are.

viviz

idk who told these girls they can vogue but please can we not. serving empty plates. i appreciate that they made the effort and actually had a bit of set design to go for the club vibes with the disco ball and dry ice speaker, and i much prefer the lighting here to kepler's, but the way the projections are used made the space seem very small and like they didn't know what to do with it, which is exactly the opposite of how brave girls used the same sized space. also not sure what was up with the spirit halloween font, but that's not the font i would have chosen for a club type vibe.

---

final thoughts

this is about what i expected the shakedown to be in terms of an initial ranking. hyolyn and brave girls' experience definitely shone through and i was pleasantly surprised by how well constructed their stages were design-wise, which has my hopes up that the both of them have good performance directors on their side. also very promising that the wjsn team at least consulted with someone who has theatre knowledge; that also bodes well for their stages in the future. i know for a fact i'm going to have trouble telling all the space girls apart, especially if they stick to their concept(s), because all three groups are huge and well over my threshold of number of people on stage, so that's gonna be an uphill battle on my end. also hoping praying begging fingers crossed that this corner/triangle stage is the permanent setup for the rest of the performances, because it's a significantly more managable size than the kingdom stage and it doesn't have all that weird architecture that didn't make any sense. all in all, not a bad start!

#queendom #queendom 2 #queendom reviews #hyolyn #wjsn #loona #brave girls #kep1er #viviz #please i'm begging can we stop with the waacking/voguing. please. no idol can actually do it well #for anyone that doesn't know johannes kepler is a very famous astronomer who discovered the three laws of planetary motion #i didnt watch gp999 but i have to assume that they mentioned this somewhere in there #considering like. the name of the group. and girls PLANET 999 #anyways. i may or may not have done a whole year of research for my masters on celestial mapping in the age of exploration #text #longtime followers any guesses on how many gg stans i make angry by giving fair and accurate criticism #hm once the show starts i'll probably update my bio to say im doing reviews like i did for kingdom

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 139

Day Two of the Food Festival! This one has a specific request from @baelpenrose, which was fun to play with in the Low-Stim session (always on day 2).

To everyone who has reached out to tell me how much they are enjoying getting to see Sophia actually relax and just have fun for once.... Y’all are the best! It’s been fun writing it, too.

New reader shout outs go to @corvallis, @penguin--person, @amphibiousuprising, @chip5-0, and I think @lostsoul8822. I think that’s everyone... If I missed you, please DM me, and I’ll add you to the next chapter.

On with the show!

The first day of the Festival, Conor and I ended up staying through not only Maverick’s shift but the one after, just so we could drag him to our favorite spots. Day two, however, Conor was on deck as Support Personnel as well as Maverick, and neither were assigned to me - for the first half of day two, we were in the Low Stim Mode, so I was pretty sure I could brave it on my own with everyone else’s proximity alerts and my own personal hyper-alertness preventing accidental bumps.

For me, the most exciting part was the different foods offered, and the fact that I could focus on just the food. Not having to ignore the other stimuli was a completely relaxing experience. The visual of the mural, with everything present, was still completely different in the even, indirect lighting. The dual nature of it was toned down significantly, leading to the overall feel being softer and overall more pleasant without being distracting.

Halfway through a very good pad thai, I spotted Derek and Sam sitting with Ivan and poking at something that Sam was clearly excited about and Derek was equally doubtful of. I circled around so they could see me approaching, and made a point to wave. “What do you think?” I asked, trying to sign as I spoke but hampered by the food in my hands.

“It was a good try,” Derek confessed, cheeks stuffed with something that had previously been on a plate to his left as a backup plan.

Setting my food down, I grinned mischievously. “Doing my best,” I signed, leading to laughter on all sides.

“You just told him you do him the best,” Ivan murmured, my face immediately flooding red.

“That is NOT what I meant,” I tried to explain out loud, over-enunciating while I clenched my hands in embarrassment.

To his credit, Derek signed what he seemed to understand I meant, emphasizing each sign. It was clear that I had gotten several out of order and added one that changed everything overall.

After repeating the signs and getting confirmation, I shook my head and sighed dramatically. “I tried.”

Ivan was trembling with laughter. “You. You did,” he admitted. “But that was… wow.” His head dropped on his hands as he shook silently.

“Souffle pancakes?” I offered, finger spelling the word souffle since I had no freaking clue how to actually sign it.

“Egg pancake,” Derek explained, poking the one I offered and contemplating the jiggle.

“It’s cinnamon sugar, and not gooey,” I explained.

Apparently I got that one right, because Derek immediately stabbed a piece and shoved it in his mouth. The only judgement I needed was the fact that he dragged the entire remaining pancake onto his plate.

Sam watched his roommate before contemplating his own sample. Before he could even ask, I held up a cup full of macerated berries. “And fruit topping for you, sir.”

“Are those my berries?” he asked, skeptical.

I shook my head. “Bog standard, from the consoles. Your vegetables and fruits are being used in the other shifts. We didn’t want to give anyone here unexpected tastes.”

He nodded and dumped the entire cup of fruit over his pancake, digging in happily.

Ivan batted his eyes at me until I explained. “Sam’s produce has… unexpected pairings. Tomatoes that pair with cheesecake and wines, strawberries that really go well with steak…”

“The mango that goes with beer but not fish?”

“Yeah, that one. Von soil does strange things to produce, turns out.”

“Those matcha-edamame are amazing though.”

“For ice cream, yes. For tea, less so. They’re like… cooking matcha, almost.” I laughed. They actually worked better for ice cream than matcha did, oddly - reducing the sugar content but still giving the same flavor.

“One vendor on the last day is using nothing but my produce,” Sam announced happily. “They asked my permission.”

“That’s good!” I encouraged him. “They should always ask your permission to do things like that.”

“People ask with requisition forms,” he agreed. “Mona asked in person.”

Note to self: much more patronage at Mona’s normal spot, I swore in my head. She specialized in vegetarian dishes, and honestly made some of the best fried cabbage I’d had in my life. Knowing that she was so considerate of Sam cemented her as my new favorite takeaway place.

After a little more chat, I finally waved my goodbyes to everyone and strolled slowly to the next tempting stall. I wasn’t really in any hurry, and did more people-watching than I did eating. Latkes were infinitely more interesting when I could overhear people arguing over family recipes. A small bowl of udon was delicious, but not nearly as flavorful as the discussion around hot versus cold, what to top them with, egg or no egg… the only thing anyone seemed to agree on was that the smiling vendor ‘obviously’ ground their own flour, because the flour provided by the consoles was the wrong texture.

Another mental note: don’t learn to make udon. Despite what I had previously believed, it takes a lifetime to make it right, turns out.

Wandering further down, I was delighted by the discovery of something that was very clearly Hannah’s doing: demonstrations of older food prep techniques. Simon winked at me as he carried on a demonstration of - insanely - how to hand pull toffee. I didn’t know he could do that. Muna was demonstrating the correct way to make chapatis and handing them out as fast as she was making them. Clearly, she had been making them her whole life, because at no point did I actually see her look at them, but every single one was perfect.

Laughter erupted over my shoulder, and I whipped my head around to see the source. After wading through a crowd of smiling faces, I couldn’t help but join in. There, right in front of the entire Ark, was Maverick trying to flip takoyaki as fast as the person demonstrating, and ending up with just a mess of octopus and batter on his side. Both Maverick and the person guiding him were smiling, though, and in the end, the vendor handed Maverick four perfectly-round balls and quickly devoured all of the - less shapely, so to speak - ones on my partner’s side. With an exuberant cheer and extending his arms wide to the crowd, the man exclaimed “The first takoyaki of a new student are always my favorite! Nothing tastes better!”

After bowing to his sensei, Maverick turned and spotted me, face still flushed with laughter. He offered his food to a smaller man I did not recognize, who must have been the person Maverick was Supporting, before waving to me and continuing on. Despite the urge to crush him in a hug, I forced my feet to stay in place and reminded myself that he was working.

By the time I trusted myself not to race after him, I realized someone had been trying to get my attention and had resorted to messaging me rather than shouting. “Phee, I don’t know what la-la land you are lost in, but look 100 yards to your four.”

The hell was Arthur doing here? He wasn’t scheduled to work this shift, as far as I was aware. Craning my neck over my shoulder, I turned to see… Apparently a hallucination. It had to be. There was no chance in any of the nine hells that Arthur Farro was dishing out spaghetti, much less smiling while doing it.

Almost dreamlike, I found myself drifting over to confirm that I was wrong, only to be startled when he shoved a plate with not only spaghetti but two gorgeous pieces of garlic bread under my nose. “Special plates, you can’t smell anything unless it’s on purpose.”

“You… Spaghetti?” I asked, eloquent as ever.

“Family recipe.”

“Leaning into the stereotype a bit, aren’t you?” I asked carefully before shoving as much of one thick, crusty piece of toast in my mouth as I could.

He shook his head. “Anyone who tells you their family is Italian and denies having a family recipe for anything is a damned liar.”

Skeptically, I took a bite. It was amazing. “Ah ee deh rehahee,” I tried to get out around the heap of pasta I was steadily shoving in my mouth.

“Maverick is a very bad influence on your table manners,” he observed drily, plating more portions and handing them out. “And no. Not happening.”

“You know I can cook.”

“Not the point. I also know that you will fiddle with it until it is unrecognizable, so there’s really no point in giving it to you.”

Defiantly, I took a smaller bite and chewed carefully. “Garlic, onions, obviously. Sausage and minced… Lamb? But that’s probably just for this session, knowing you it’s spicy sausage regularly. I’m not getting carrot, though, so no soffritto? Unexpected…. Is that thyme, I’m tasting?”

“Rosemary, you heathen. And you’re still wrong.”

I mumbled to myself. “What did I get wrong? It’s gotta be the lamb… maybe he does usually use the lamb? I’m certain it is lamb…”

“It is lamb, and no, I don’t usually use it. But you left several things out.”

I stared at the plate again, confused. “I didn’t think I needed to mention the tomatoes….”

“Basil… oregano….” he drawled.

“Duhhh?” I poked through the last bite on my plate, sniffing it, trying to figure out what I was missing. “Fine, you win, I’m lost.”

“Mushrooms, Sophia. There’s mushrooms. Jeezus. It was an easy one, too.” He showed me a bowl full of what looked like cooked and crumbled sausage, only for me to realize it was the tiniest diced mushrooms I had ever seen in my life.

“I am dying to know how you got them that small.”

“With a knife?” He arched an eyebrow at me as he turned to start another batch of sauce.

“Yeah, no shit, Arthur.”

“Correct, there is no shit in the spaghetti,” he confirmed cheekily as the vegetables started sizzling.

“Asshole,” I laughed, scraping the remaining sauce from my plate with the piece of bread I saved just for that purpose. Just as I was frowning at the sauce-less plate and remaining half-piece of bread, a scalding hot dollop of fresh sauce invaded my vision.

“You love me, because I won’t let you frown at your bread like that.”

Fiiiinnnne I sighed in my head as I shoved a piece of saucy, saucy bread into my cheeks and waggled my fingers to let him get back to work.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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gloryofluv · 3 years ago

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Traditionally Obscure Chapter 5

Svart! Man, I had plenty of fun with this chappy for sure!

Previous Chapter

There wasn’t much time to adjust to the sudden change once she woke up when landing. Rosa had fallen asleep against Vyn’s shoulder and was out for nearly most of the plane ride. There goes comforting him at all. Once they had their bags, Rosa was overwhelmed at the sheer chaos of a foreign language everywhere.

It wasn’t that she didn’t travel as a child. However, this felt different. A different world entirely. Vyn had coiled his arm around her’s and led her through the weaving airport. When someone shoved her while passing, nearly ripping her away from Vyn, he glared back at the man and pulled Rosa closer.

Outside, the air felt a bit frigid and moist. It was definitely different than Stellis. Rosa was gazing at the massive outpour of stunning jittering of society and its differences. They stopped at the entrance, and a man with a plaque approached, speaking to Vyn in his native tongue.

Vyn responded and gestured to Rosa. “This is our escort to the estate. My uncle’s condition is failing. We will change at the estate,” he explained to her.

Rosa swallowed and rocked her head. “Alright.”

Vyn rocked his head and spoke again to the man in the uniform. He took the bags from Vyn and bowed before leading them out of the airport. Rosa wasn’t expecting the flashing of cameras as they walked toward the extended car. It definitely was royalty by the dramatic flags that hung in the back. Well, she was going to look like crap in those pictures.

Vyn ignored them with a soft smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. It was almost as if he was shielding her from the people speaking in their native tongue. Likely they were trying to get information from Vyn. He assisted Rosa in the car and gave them a subtle wave before joining her and shutting the door.

Rosa smiled and nodded. “That’s eventful,” she tried.

Vyn chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t need to make me feel better about subjecting you to this.”

“I’m not trying. I’m being honest. I’m an attorney, Vyn. I can handle some press,” she reminded him.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “That’s true,” he paused when his phone rang. Vyn retrieved it from his pocket and answered it. “Yes, we just landed and are on our way.”

He waited while the other person was talking and stared at her. “She slept on the plane. We’ll see you tonight for dinner, Marius,” Vyn hummed.

“Isn’t he already flying?” Rosa questioned.

“He’s flying in his private jet. He has service,” Vyn answered. “Yes, I will inform you when we’re done with the political business.”

Their conversation finished, and he placed the phone back into his pocket. She tilted her head and observed Vyn’s demeanor. It was strained, but he still maintained his air of calm. Rosa reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tenderly.

“So, if you need me to make myself scarce,” she started.

“No,” Vyn shook his head.

There was an underlined statement. Rosa stared at his expression and collected the resistance for her to part from. It was the first time she experienced this time of fractured emotion on the refined professor. He was such a master of his own emotions that this was an uncontrollable event.

“Then I’ll be at your side the whole time,” she agreed.

He glanced out the window, and she followed his eyes. The world around them was vibrant and colorful in comparison to Stellis. Her city was built with shiny metallic jungle features. Tall skyscrapers and sheen newness. This felt something of a fairytale. Older colored buildings with bold outlining. Massive statues of gods or deities of old.

“That’s Balder, of light and purity,” Vyn declared and pointed to the statue they were passing with a staff in hand.

Rosa leaned closer to him to get a better view of it. “There’s plenty of rich culture out here.”

He gestured to a fountain. “Njord is celebrated through fountains and running water through Svart.”

She smiled at him before examining the children tossing coins in the water. “How different from Stellis.”

“Yes,” Vyn agreed.

“I stick out like a sore thumb out here,” Rosa noted as she examined some of the lighter-haired people they were passing.

Vyn tilted his head and met her gaze. “That isn’t always a disproportionate issue.”

The man from the front rolled down the window between them and spoke to Vyn. He responded with a nod and adjusted his glasses. There was a little back and forth before Vyn breathed and agreed.

“He just informed me that my aunt has requested we have tea with her after we see my uncle,” Vyn declared and grimaced in the slightest. “I wasn’t expecting her to want to engage in conversation today. I’m apologetic. I doubt the last thing you’d like to do is entertain after flying.”

Rosa straightened her form and smirked. “Dr. Richter, you’re doubting my skills again.”

“Never, Rosa,” he smiled.

“If your aunt wants to have tea and you want my escort, then I will join you,” she nodded.

The man spoke again, and Vyn scowled and responded with a gruffer texture to his voice. The driver’s tone sounded almost apologetic, but he relayed information in a fast pattern of speech.

“He says Ragnar and my uncle are at the estate today,” Vyn explained.

“So your uncle, Ragnar’s father, is younger than your father, correct?” Rosa inquired.

He rocked his head. “Yes.”

Rosa breathed and dug through her purse, checking her face in her small mirror. It was one thing to go into a royal estate. It was a whole other thing to run into someone who was volatile before. Vyn’s hand made her jerk as it touched her cheek.

“You can freshen up at the estate. Don’t fret,” he murmured as his fingertips brushed back a few stray hairs.

Rosa set down her mirror and stared over at him. Vyn’s expression held sincere care and a hint of relief. All the words of gratitude wrapped in action instead of words. Somehow, instead of shying from it, she felt more than a heated tug at her gut. Rosa felt… bolstered.

She pressed her hand over his and smiled. “Alright.”

Their little tangled thoughts subsided with their arrival at a large gate. Vyn pulled from her and straightened his posture. Rosa replicated him and knitted her fingers as she glanced out the window. Holy crow. Her lips fell apart as she viewed the expanse of the entrance.

There was an intricate garden of trees and flowers that brought a whimsical feeling to Svart’s charm. The car traveled on the driveway toward the entrance to a massive manor with a bright white and gold glow over the vibrate flowers surrounding it.

Vyn said something to the driver and dug in his pocket. He held out his hand toward the opening when the car was parked. The man took the golden trinket with a nod before getting out. Vyn climbed from the vehicle and offered his hand to Rosa. She slid over and out of the car with his assistance. It was only then that she realized her legs felt like jelly.

The potency of sea air mixed with the light floral escape that was created around the property. It danced together with elegance and uniformity. Rosa straightened her cardigan and swallowed. She was completely out of her element, that was certain. However, she wasn’t here for herself.

Vyn offered his arm, and she rocked her head while falling in step with him toward the manor’s entrance. What a shocking sensation. Rosa almost couldn’t believe all of the information she’s collected in the last twenty-four hours. Vyn was royalty adjacent. That was insane.

He didn’t speak as they entered when a worker opened the door. He led her inside, and she stifled her gasp. The description of royal castles could use an update by the country of Svart. As traditional as everything appeared on the outside, that wasn’t the case inside this manor.

Beautiful traditional marble floors that paid homage to the world of old danced with the world of new by the brilliant modern art on the walls. Busts of royalty stood on tables, but alongside beautiful baubles that shouted freshness to tradition.

“Vilhelm,” a soft voice announced.

You both turned toward the staircase to see a woman descending. She was older, but age definitely didn’t seem to catch up to her. Her bright blue eyes were surrounded by soft blond hair, and her deep violet dress surrounded with golden accessories screamed royalty.

Vyn released Rosa’s arm and bowed before extending his hand. “Your majesty,” he declared before kissing her hand.

She beamed and glanced at Rosa before speaking in her native tongue. Vyn gestured to Rosa, saying her name before concluding his explanation. The woman shifted and laughed. “Vilhelm said you came to support us. That’s amazingly kind of you, Rosa. My name is Ester. I’m the Queen of Svart.”

Rosa attempted a curtsey she’d seen in films but soon simpered and scrunched her shoulders. “It’s truly an honor, your majesty,” she said.

Ester laughed and said something to Vyn with a wag of her finger. Vyn’s cheeks were dusted with slight color before responding. The queen turned back to the woman and smiled. “I have something to help you freshen up. Edmar is in decent spirits despite the looming storm. He’s been wanting to meet you for some time, Rosa.”

Vyn cleared his throat and said something else in his native tongue. Ester giggled and reached over, touching his cheek fondly before waving them along. “Vilhelm, you remember where your quarters were? I would like to speak to your companion. She is a lady, and I would like to assist with her comfort.”

Vyn turned to Rosa and smiled. “My aunt wants to introduce you to my two cousins. They are very warm and kind, which I know you’ll have little issue with. Are you comfortable with such an affair?”

Rosa’s cheeks warmed, and she rocked her head. “Of course, Dr. Richter. I’m sure you need a little bit of time to breathe after our long flight.”

“We’ll converge to see my uncle shortly,” he clarified.

Ester scowled and said something in her native tongue. Vyn shook his head and tutted with a reply. “My aunt is expressing your formality as unnecessary,” he smiled.

Rosa laughed and shook her head. “Your majesty, he has earned that title in Stellis, so of course I’m going to use it.”

Ester giggled and rocked her head. “Vilhelm, we shall see you later. I want to help your companion dress for meeting Edmar.”

Rosa stepped toward the queen, and Vyn waved with a nod. The dismissal was tense only in a sense that they’ve only been here a few hours, and she was already being skirted off to meet more of his family members without him? Well, she was prepared for the unexpected.

Ester gazed at Rosa as they climbed the staircase. “You’re an,” she paused and scowled.

“Attorney,” Rosa agreed.

“That’s the word. Languages have different meanings,” Ester laughed.

Rosa beamed and rocked her head. “Vyn was teaching me some of your language on the plane, but it’s difficult to be able to gather enough lessons in hours to hold conversations.”

“He writes that you both work together routinely,” Ester voiced.

Does he write to his aunt and uncle? That was the first she had ever heard of it. There’s definitely a sweet affection between them. It was clear with how she addressed him. However, there was so much of the story missing.

Rosa rocked her head as they paced through a large corridor. “Yes, we do outside of the work with my firm.”

Ester made a sound and said something in her native language. “It means ‘fate plays cards for souls,’” she explained.

“Your kingdom is magical,” Rosa declared.

She smiled and patted Rosa’s shoulder. “We are ways from the gem of Stellis, but we hold charm against the sea.”

“Forgive me for being curious,” Rosa started as they paused at a large set of doors. “You seem rather close to Vyn.”

Ester rocked her head and exhaled. “Vilhelm and Edmar are. We were not fortunate to have a son, and they share similar ideals. It’s very kind of you to come with him. It takes a person of great strength to hold up brilliance when it threatens to dim.”

“I had to nearly break his fingers to allow it,” Rosa laughed and shook her head. “But he would do the same for me. I couldn’t allow him to do this alone.”

“And that, Rosa, is why you and my daughters are meeting today,” Ester smiled and rapped on the door.

There were plenty of things to unbox by their conversation. However, Rosa had little chance. Ester brought her into a room with two young women that mimicked her appearance. The heavy conversation changed to lighter as she was brought inside, offered tea and dresses soon brought in by female workers. This wasn’t just an upper-class type of behavior. This was truly the royal treatment.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #tot fanfic #tot #tears of themis vyn #vyn richter #tears of themis mc #tot fluff #tot angst #tot vyn #tot mc #tot romance

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oh-my-may · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar, spice and everything nice ✵ Osamu Miya x reader

making christmas cookies with Osamu! ft. an Atsumu appearance at the end!

pairing: Miya Osamu x gender neutral reader

warnings: very mild swearing? (also this was not proof read so forgive any mistake you might come across)

genre: fluffy fluff

word count: 2.7k

Day 1 of my december/christmas event! I won’t be posting the works in chronological order/ the way they are on the list and rather in the order I like best. Decided to post this one first because I recently also made cookies and it really got me in the christmas mood :) Have fun!

Also sorry that this was not posted on the 1st as I was planning on, but I was really struggling with uni and time management lately, but I wrote this on one afternoon and I am kinda proud!

Your eyes slowly traced over the scenery in front of you: baking ingredients neatly plastered all over the counter, the packages even sorted from biggest to smallest, starting with the flour and ending with eggs. In front there stood a bunch of bowls, all of the same kind and just in different sizes, all of them stacked together. The work space of the kitchen had been cleaned and the light bouncing of the counter almost blinded you if you looked at it for too long. And of course, in front of all the counters, dressed in a candy cane coloured apron and messy hair stood Osamu, who was going over all the ingredients for what felt like the fifth time, making sure nothing was missing. Every now and then he looked up to give you a small smile before he returned to the task at hand.

After a few minutes you had enough and sighed dramatically, leaning over the counter as you stood opposite of him. “Samu, do you really think this is the way to do this?” The man in question looked up at you in confusion, the expression and widened eyes suddenly making him look several years younger. “Why would it not be? I’m just making sure everything is in order.” You bit your lip as a smile made its way to your lips. You finally moved and made your way around the counter, your fingers brushing along the border of the kitchen counter. “Look, I don’t know about you, but to me making Christmas cookies was always more of a messy experience, which in no way is to be seen as negative.” You slowly took his hands, which still hovered over the ingredients, and pulled him closer to you. “What I really like about you is that compared to your brother you like things neatly organized and ordered, but maybe put that aside for today, mh? For me.” He analysed your face critically for just a split second before he sighed and looked away. The way you looked up at him with your big eyes have always had a strong effect on him. “Alright”, he sighed and raised one of his hands to brush over your hair. “Then you’re the boss for today.”

You face brightened up immediately and you clapped your hands in an excited manner as you moved past him to play some festive music and he could only watch in delight, seeing as this made you so happy. He helped you put on an apron and then obliged to your commands as you researched your favourite recipes and slowly got to work.

Frankly, his preparations made the whole process a lot easier and faster in the beginning, as you just had to mix all the ingredients together. Everything was still in order and neatly organized during the first round, you had big fun rolling out the dough and deciding which shapes to cut out of the dough in front of you. You two bickered over the decisions, Osamu insisting on making the cookies look “elegant” with a bunch of fancy decorations like almonds, walnuts, even pistachios and expensive chocolate. You smiled at him as he explained his ideas but then slowly put your hands on his broad shoulders and got on your tip toes, before leaning in and cutting his words off with a soft kiss. You felt Osamu tense up and relax under your grip as his hands followed your hands from his shoulders down your extended arms to your waist, pulling you closer. But you leaned away too soon, tipping the tip of your finger against his lower lip. “You could have just told me to shut up, y’know” he mumbled and you grinned, shaking your head. “We both know that that is not the truth, ‘Samu.” Osamu looked not especially pleased as you clearly compared him to his brother, as they were both the same when it came to this. You giggled and turned away, trying to slip out of his grip. When he didn’t let you, you pouted and reached for the first thing near you – which, unfortunately, was the package of flour. You took a hand full of the white substance and threw it right at him in defence, not thinking twice. Poor Osamu got blinded by the white mist and struggled to breath for a few moments, coughing in some of the powder. “Oh my god” was the only expression the could leave your lips repeatedly as you took in the scene and watched your boyfriend struggle and dance around weirdly in an attempt to get rid of the haze in the air, waddling his arms around. You really wanted to help but all you could do was laugh more intensely with every second that passed.

Eventually, the flour disappeared and all that was left of it was a small film of it on the kitchen counter and the floor. And, of course, Osamu as well. His silver hair was now coated in white chunks of flour and you could see some smudges of it on his face and apron. He considered you throroughly for a while, his eyes scanning your figure from top to bottom, before he also grabbed the flour and you gasped, putting your hands up in defence. “WAIT! PEACE! I want peace! I’m sorry!”

Osamu stopped in his tracks, watched you for another five seconds and then sighed and slapped the flour on the counter. “Fine, then. We should continue on with the cookie baking or we won’t be finished until tomorrow morning. But this isn’t forgotten. I will take my revenge.” You nodded, trying to take his words seriously, but you couldn’t help but let a few wheezes escape your mouth in the process. “You’re right, we should continue.” You got closer to him again only hesitantly, until he took your wrist and pulled you next to him with an annoyed look, but you knew better. Just as much as you, he enjoyed these little games and playful times in your relationship and you smiled at him as you both resumed work on the cookies.

This time however, after the first trays landed in the oven, the dough preparation was messier, as you needed to focus on many things at once. Making sure you got the measurements right, cleaning up the used bowls and other materials and checking on the cookies in the oven. You got a bit more experimental with the cookies this time, adding more spices or other ingredients to create new textures for the dough. You didn’t speak much this time around, rather you enjoyed each other’s company, the festive smell lingering in the room with you and the bright melodies echoing from the walls, finding their way right into your souls. Sometimes Osamu would playfully bump into you as you were cutting out the cookies, and when you looked at him he had already gotten back to work, yet there was a mischievous smile lingering on his lips.

When you were finished cutting out the cookies, you were ready to put in the remaining trays into the oven, but Osamu halted you, putting another figure made up of dough on the tray you were holding. “What’s that?” “A cookie.” “It has a weird shape.” “It’s not finished just yet. Stop judging my work now and focus on not burning your fingers babe.” You rolled your eyes but took his comment with a smile, considering his thoughtful figure scanning the recipes after you were done with your task. There was still flour on his features, but for whatever reason it made him even more charming, as the soft yellow and red lightning from the Christmas decorations illuminated him. Some of the lights were reflected in his dark grey eyes, making it seem like there were tiny stars dancing in them. He looked up suddenly when he noticed your figure not moving, a questioning look in his eyes. But they grew a lot softer and formed into a smile when he took in your features and walked up to you, lacing both of his big hands on either side of your face, squishing the soft skin of your cheeks. “You’re so adorable, sweetheart.” He cooed and moved his nose against yours. Your breath hitched as you finally realized what he had meant. Even though it was already warm in the room, you had still managed to blush wildly at the sight of your boyfriend, your face heating up unnaturally in the process. A chaste kiss is left on the tip of your nose, before Osamu takes his hands off your face and places them on yours instead, intertwining your fingers. “Let’s wait until the last cookies are finished, yes?” He mumbles just above your ear, warm breath brushing along your hair, causing your to shiver. A consenting hum left your vocal folds as you leaned into his large figure, his heartbeat right under your ear beating at a slow and steady rhythm. Before you knew it your bodies were moving slowly, feet brushing over the tiles on the floor along to the soft beat of Cold December Night now flowing through the speakers. There was something incredibly reassuring about the weight of his head on top of yours, his cheek brushing over your hair and his hands on your waist and back trailing nonsense patterns on the fabric of your sweater and yet you felt it right through your skin. During the last chorus of the song your felt Osamus hand wander up from your waist, along your neck to your face, his fingers holding up your face to him, his thumb trailing over your bottom lip before pulling you in for a kiss, starting up slow but slowly pressing you towards the counter, your hips pushing against the edge of it. Your hearts beat sped up with every time Osamus lips captured yours, every single time a bit more passionate than the last. You tasted the sweetness of his mouth, asserting that you certainly where not the only one to try some bits of the raw dough, smiling at this realization. But then something cold and weird hit your face, something with a structure you couldn’t determine right away. Your eyes suddenly opened in shock, staring at your grinning boyfriends face through a soft haze of white. It took you a whole second to realize what had just happened “SAMU!” you screamed in horror, his unstoppable laughter ringing in your ears. You sighed in frustration and angrily moved your hands to your face to brush away the chunks of flour that surely found its place on your cheeks and even forehead. Osamu took a second to look at you, before he returned to laughing wildly. You blew away some hair that was messily hanging in your face, letting the situation wash over you and watching as your boyfriend enjoyed his victory. You couldn’t really be mad at him, you had it coming after that situation earlier today. So there was nothing left to do for you other than sit it out.

After Osamu had finally calmed down, he got closer to you again, his hand hovering over your head. “You look like a vampire, sweetheart.” You just glared at him and he chuckled, sighing. “Alright Dracula, the cookies should be done soon, come on.” He dragged you to the oven, where you prepared the different chocolates to dip in and decorate the cookies with, as well as all the sprinkles and icing. When everything was done, you hurriedly decorated all the baked goods. Trying to make special patterns on the cookies turned out to be a lot harder than you both thought and sure enough one time Osamu got distracted and upset, so he just pressed his in chocolate covered finger to your nose, but you ducked away the second he tried to lick it off. “That’s nasty, keep that kinda behaviour out of the kitchen, Miya.” “But you liked it just a few minutes ago.” He whispered sheepishly and grinned, earning an elbow hit from you. You will sure as hell not sacrifice hundreds of cookies for his horniness, that was for sure. After several such attempts and only two clap backs from your side, he finally gave up and resumed to decorating the cookies. He even got every much into it, which surprised you somehow. He kept on giggling to himself, but he wouldn’t let you see what he was doing. “Not until it’s finished and dried!” he insisted, so you went back to decorating the rest of the cookies.

When you were finished with all the cookies, the first ones you had worked on had already dried and you tried to steal looks at Osamus work. “What were you giggling about earlier, huh? What’s so funny about decorating cookies?” He looked at you almost a bit offended. “Isn’t Christmas supposed to be a holly jolly time? Am I not allowed to be happy and smile?” You sighed and playfully smacked his arm, but he turned away before you could do it a second time. “Fine, take a look. I really tried my best… With some.” He added the last part in a quieter but amused tone as you considered his cookies. You finally recognized the shapes, he had taken many of the human/ man formed cookies to decorate. Grunts escaped your lips as you looked at what could only resemble Osamus team mates, considering the colour of their clothes and hair. Everything else somehow… Didn’t look as recognizable. “What happened to their faces.” “I lived out my inner fantasy – punching a volleyball in everyone’s face. This is what I imagine it to look like.” You couldn’t hold the laughter anymore as your eyes kept on flying over the tray and got stuck on a collection of cookies that all portrayed the same person. “Is that your brother?” you laugh loudly, looking at all the cursed faces on the cookies. Osamu nodded proudly. “Looking as good as never before.”

After your laughter has faded out into a long sigh, your eyes landed on the last cookie that Osamu made, considering it carefully. “Is that-“ “That’s us, babe.” Osamu states proudly and lifts the cookie up so you can look at it better. “I hope I don’t offend you with this, but it’s just really hard capturing your real beauty on a damn cookie. You look nowhere near as bad as your dough twin-“ You cut him off with a quick kiss. “Shut up, it’s perfect. I wouldn’t have been able to do any better.” You giggle against his lips before he pulls you in for another kiss like the one before, this time you could just hope he didn’t have any ulterior motive of pressing baking ingredients in your face. But of course this time you were interrupted as well.

“Eww, don’t you two know that the kitchen is a commonly used space in this house? Would you please mind NOT spreading your hormones across every surface in this damn house?” Atsumu enters the house in that exact moment, the sight in front of him not exactly being the first thing he expected OR wanted to see. When you both turn to look at him he drops his bag, his expression changing to something between confusion and disgust. “What the hell happened with you? Are you not supposed to cover the cookies with chocolate and not other people?” When neither of you answer he just grunts and sloppily moves past you to investigate the products of your work. Osamu rolls his eyes at his twin and you grin, the anticipation building up. You could only imagine what Atsumu’s reaction to his cookie-selfs would be like, but the reality was so much better.

“YA! SAMU! What the hell is this? Ya think this is funny or what?” Atsumus angrily picks up one cookie of himself and points it at his brother like someone would with a sword, however it was not frightening at all. Osamu turns quickly to wink at you, before he answers his brother “I don’t know what your problem is, this looks better than you ever have or will.”

~ Cue them bickering and fighting in the kitchen and you kinda have to intervene before someone gets hurt because this is a KITCHEN and you don’t want to imagine what this could end like with all the knives around and such~

THE END

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nostalgic-pancakes · 4 years ago

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Watching the starlings as autumn draws in

Summary: Tommy and his friends try on some skirts, and he reflects a bit on how they all got here. (It's a happy story) Title from September by Sparky Deathcap

Pairings: None! Platonic everyone (esp in irl fics_)

Read on AO3 (preferred place to read)

Word count: 2570

Warnings: None, except for surface-level references to the exile/prison arcs, but not much.

Other notes: I wrote this in a fit of madness last night in like three hours at 2 am, so i’ll probably edit it honestly but for now, enjoy! (If the CC’s ever display discomfort with this type of fic I will take it down)

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"WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM, BOYS!" Tommy exclaims, rubbing his hands together as he starts rapid-fire answering questions about the stream, and the stream title from chat. It's funny, how over time, Tommy's come to see Chat as this one entity- an old friend. The nervousness of answering questions as a fifteen year old with nothing but a big personality, a twitch account and a copy of Minecraft is all but gone now, nineteen years old and happier than he's ever been.

Dreadfulzombie19: what are u doin this stream

"THANK YOU FOR ASKING, Dreadfulzombie19, today is gonna be a bit different, innit Tubbo?" Tommy raises his voice a bit at the end of his sentence, just loud enough for one of his flatmates to hear him. When Tubbo yells back an affirmative, Tommy turns back to his setup. Chat's gone a bit wild again, even though he, Tubbo and Ranboo have been living together for over a year now.

"Okay, okay, calm down chat- so recently I was at university, as usual right? And I had an eight AM class again, and… yeah I can see you all can relate."

"BUT! BUT! On my way back to the flat, I saw something really cool." Tommy hesitates in his speech to take a sip of coke again- his blood pressure's been acting up lately and watches Chat to wild again, asking him what he saw.

"Okay, so there was a shop- new place, which doesn't happen often this is fucking Brighton- and they sold skirts and dresses and stuff with adjustments for AMAB sizes!" Chat goes a bit bonkers, but Tommy's mod team- a little smaller than it used to be, now that he isn't the centre of YouTube or Twitch attention anymore, none of them are- are handling it, and pretty well.

"So I had to go, right? As many of you probably know, last year, I made the astounding discovery that gender-based stereotypes and expectations are, in fact, fake and I should not give a SHIT. And so I go in and look through the stuff- it's a really poggers shop by the way, and I find the perfect thing- it was the most poggers skirts and shit, okay? So, today's stream is going to have me wearing this pogchamp shit and wearing it right, with the help of…" Tommy ends his monologue by picking up the joke shaker-things that Phil had gotten him as a housewarming gift last year and indicates for his first two helpers to enter the office.

In walks his mother, face obscured from view as always, waving to the camera, and Wilbur, also wearing one of his only skirts for this occasion. Eret had taught him, on a phonecall in the skirt shop that week about the different types of skirts with a handy diagram. Wilbur's was a pleated circle skirt, brown to offset the bright yellow of his sweater and beanie, the same colour as his hair. It's very swoosh-y, so he's wearing black leggings with his regular shoes too. Motherinnit's also wearing her favourite skirt, a baby blue prairie skirt, Tommy thinks, and it's one he's seen fairly often.

Wilbur ducks down in order to show his face to Chat, and ruffles Tommy's hair while he's at it. Tommy's taller, but not by much, so Wilbur still fucking makes short jokes, That fucker.

Chat is now going so fast that he simply cannot read anything but some of the all caps messages and can barely make out some of the emotes.

"Okay, OKAY, CALM DOWN CHAT! WE HAVE TO GET TO FUCKING BUSINESS!" Tommy yells into the mix, like he did when he was sixteen and used the 'many people find me annoying at first' intro. Nowadays he just lets the content speak for itself. Anyone who wants to be here already is, by now.

Wilbur laughs a bit, and that hasn't changed at all. "Tommy, how is chat supposed to calm down if you're not calm?"

"I am their god!! They will obey via sheer digital willpower!" Tommy replies back, pretty zealously (What? An English Literature class is mandatory for his film degree, and The Great Gatsby by Zelda Fitzgerald is a good book, as are most of the other assigned ones. He's had entire conversations with Techno with just lit quotes and it drives everyone insane. Tommy loves it.) Chat seemingly has listened to his godlike abilities, with a few OG's spotting his half-quotation of one of Dream's last lines in the Dream SMP. The rest are spamming 'MOTHERINNIT'.

"If having a shitty magic trick book from a washed-up politician makes you a god, then what does that make me?" Wilbur replies, with one of Foolish's lines and swatting his hand at Tommy. Tommy swats back.

"Bitch" "Arsehole" "Shithead" "Fuckface" Wilbur finishes cheerily, as if this happens all the time. It does. Chat's used their antics now, four years of consistently making content together will do that for you.

Eventually Motherinnit reminds them both to get back on Topic, and Tommy goes back to facing the camera, addressing Chat directly.

"Today, my beloved mother, and my idiot brother-" "hey!" "And maybe my flatmates will be joining me to show off some cool as SHIT skirts! And a dress or two. We all have our selections, right?" Everyone nods in affirmative, even Tubbo and Ranboo. Though the camera can't see them. Ranboo's just come home from his final class, then. He should probably take the first hour back off, and judging by how Tubbo is forcefully judging Ranboo to the shower, he probably gets it. Tommy signs an affirmative to both of them, and gets back to the camera, where Wilbur's showing off all of his (very poggers) very stupid brown or yellow skirts. Tommy's are in cool colours, for fuck's sake.

"Oh yeah, Puffy just confirmed she'll be on stream! She'll be here in about twenty minutes, accounting for fucking traffic, and Niki' going to get onto VC after her own stream, what game is it this time?"

"GRIS." Wilbur answers.

"Poggers- she is the SHIT and will join us soon! So expect some QUALITY QUALITY content this stream!! Remember to not spam her chat to finish faster." Exclaims Tommy, even if it ends up as a light warning, as he picks up his own very poggers skirts from the extra armchair in his office to show the camera.

One is the classic red and white, mostly white but with bright red on the waist (elastic) and the bottom, and it reached to about Tommy's knee, if worn at the hip. It had no pleats, but the red bits were a very nice velvet texture, and while the skirt was heavy, it still had very much swoosh value, and pockets!! Big ones!! He slips the skirt on top of his jeans before entering camera view, the skirt visible in all its classic Tommyinnit glory, as he takes his place right next to Wilbur, who just took. a quick spin at the behest of several dono's., Skirt spying out from his lower shins all the way to his knee, making visible one of his (many) petticoats. ("What? It's cold all the fucking time here, Toms.") Tommy also makes a quick little spin, skirt flying outward, not upward, so it looks like he's hula hooping for a moment there. Lastly, Motherinnit spins around too, and while her skirts do not swoosh, she looks opulent, like she was about to go to waltz with the enemy, for whom she has a dagger in the back of her dress for. (He finished Anna Karenina and the Six of Crows duology within the same week and has not yet recovered. Jack Edwards is laughing at him as he thinks in his English Lit Graduate glory.)

It's fun, trying on different skirts- he and Wilbur accidentally bought the same dress at one point, which they paired up to wear, darting off into their respective changing rooms while giggling like idiots with their checkered blouses and the grindl skirts that Niki had sent over when she heard of this stream idea, laughing the whole time. Tubbo enters as dramatically as possible with Puffy, and while Tubbo looks really fucking good in his handkerchief skirt with embroidered bees and plain white shirt, it's Puffy who steals the show with an exact, real life version of her red banquet dress.

Fans from way back in the SMP, before Tommy had started branching out start going insane and are bringing back emotes Tommy wasn't sure were still available, but she is fucking stunning- deep shades of red and crimson, with slits on either side of her waist and all the detailing. She'd gotten the contact for her dressmaker through Bernadette Banner, Tommy recalls- she was so fucking cool when she streamed with him once, and gotten him to swear less and supplant those world's with bigger ones to intimidate instead. While he still curses like a sailor as part of his persona, it's less so and he does way less in real life these days, unless the situation calls for it. It's also just rude, especially in uni libraries, where he spends too much time these days wondering why he didn't read more as a kid.

Puffy's stolen his audience for a WHILE, and Niki coming on hasn't helped any, so Tommy exits camera view for a while to hug Ranboo really quickly- he's had midterms and has basically been dying all month.

Everyone on this stream- Tommy, Wilbur, Motherinnit, Tubbo, Puffy, Niki and Ranboo enter the camera frame after entering their dressing rooms for the last time on this particular stream, Puffy with full in-character wigs and makeup, Tommy in an Edwardian-Gothic reminiscent black and red dress, Ranboo in something he bought when he gap-yeared in Japan, punk lolita or something, Niki flaunting her pink in a Marie Antoinette style show of finery, Tubbo dressing in all green this time, something like a very deranged biology teacher who hasn't slept in days (Tubbo hasn't-Tommy has to get into that), Wilbur like a forest-nymph, all earthy tones and swishy fabrics and nature highlights, and finally Motherinnit, who hasn't changed but is here to take pictures as they all lean in together to fit into frame, as drastic as their height difference is. Niki is going to be edited in later, and everyone on the 'Dream SMP but nobody does Dream SMP and we're all fucking nerds' discord server is going to get a copy.

The stream wraps up there, after about two hours, and it's only about six in the evening- a far cry from the late nights and long hours from the beginning of Tommy's career, so everyone runs to their changing areas for the last time, into pajamas now, and packs away all of the clothes they wore, properly, as to not incense Karolina Zebrowska, and Jemma, Dan's wife, who would look at them disappointedly and nobody wants a sad Jemma because that means no cooing at their son. Also it just feels shitty.

Everyone huddles in Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo's living room, and they out on UP for like, the millionth fucking time (they still cry when Ellie dies), and Tommy is leaning into Wilbur's side and feeling his mum play with the hair in his very small, stubby ponytail he's developed by being in Uni as he and Tubbo intertwine their legs together and Ranboo rests his head in the tangle of limbs, playing with his fidget cube. Puffy stays on Wilbur's side, intently texting someone and smiling the whole while, and Tommy takes a moment to reflect (something he's been getting better at doing) on how the actual hell they all got here.

The Dream SMP was always going to end- everyone knew it, if course, they were the fucking writers. But by the time they did, not only were their respective brands too closely intertwined to just… sever that quickly, but they'd become too close to even want to. So the SMP discord never shut, even though Dream and George had planned it months ago, and they continued supporting each other with their interests. Wilbur made a lot more music solo, with his band and even just random ass streams where he practiced guitar for an hour. He kept playing Minecraft, but it wasn't his main focus. A bunch of people left. More stayed. YouTube left him alone.

Dream, George and Sapnap are still Minecraft streamers, but their YouTube channels are mostly blogs of them being poor excuses of adults with other former SMP members joining in sometimes. Tommy and the Dream Team were closer than ever, even though the seeds of their friendship had been sowed when they used to linger after heavy streams together, reassuring each other that none of that was true and that nothing like… that would happen in real life, because Dream had used real abuse tactics, and those still hurt unless immediately taken care of. So they were. It was a running joke that Dream was stuck at 99 million subscribers since nobody really wanted the face reveal anymore. The other Dream team members were doing peachy.

Phil and Techno were also still primarily Minecraft streamers, but they also released things like advice videos and mental health stuff, especially for relationships. They had a new scripted series where Tommy was a minor character. The dadza jokes were still as real, and yes, outside of streaming, both of them were lovely people and responsible adults (mostly). They collaborated with DanTDM and co a lot more now.

Puffy and Niki kept doing games, but did lots of different ones, testing point and clickers to triple A titles, and making it all fucking hilarious while they were at it.

So where had that left Tommy?

After the Dream SMP, he'd kind of had no idea what to do, and he was going to University for the first time, so he just… did whatever he thought would be fun. He learned about vintage fashion from the queens themselves- Mina Le, Bernadette Banner and Karolina Zebrowska and had fun learning how to sew for the first time, fixing and making his own clothes for the first time, clunky as they were, Wilbur had cried, genuinely, when he saw the Lovejoy shirts that Tommy had made for the band. He'd found a genuine love for literature in university, so Tommy started talking to booktubers and studytubers like Jack Edwards and Noelle Stevenson. Tubbo and Ranboo had joined him, fucking around in any YouTube niche they found even remotely interesting. Eventually, they all found a happy medium- a bit of everything.

Some people obviously weren't happy with that but Tommy was happy as he was, making what he liked with his best friend's, living together close enough to most of their friends (family) to have fun and drop in on one another at ass-o-clock in the morning to comfort, to laugh. His sub count hasn't gone up in a while- most of his audience is static, with about 80-90k online on a stream at any time.p

It was a nice feeling, to have carved out a space for himself and the people he loves, and be is so, so glad that he got this chance.

Looking at his mostly asleep family, Tommy thinks 'yeah. Life is good.' as the last thought before he sleeps.

#dream smp #mcyt #irl fic #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #nihachu #ranboo #vee's writing #2021

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hetvi1498 · 4 years ago

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Makeup Products for Beginner

Whether you're new to makeup or have been experimenting with it for years, having a collection of beauty essentials that will help you to create a go-to everyday look is key. It's a lot easier to add fun or fashionable makeup products to your collection and incorporate them into your beauty looks once you've mastered the basics.

Makeup Essentials – Face:

1. Face Primer

While some people believe that face primer isn't necessary, I consider it to be an essential part of my makeup procedure.

Face primers have a variety of impacts on your face and makeup, but their main goal is to keep your skin smooth and your makeup appearing fresh all day. Whether you're searching for a product to regulate oil and/or acne, hydrate, smooth out uneven texture, colour correct, or anything else, there's a primer for you.

2. Foundation

Foundation is undoubtedly the most difficult component of your makeup regimen to master, because you must consider not only the level of coverage you like (sheer/natural, medium, or full), but also your skin type and undertones.

If you're new to foundation or aren't sure which type or shade is best for you, I recommend visiting your local Sephora, MAC, or department store and having a makeup artist assist you in selecting one that matches your skin tone and meets your coverage requirements. Requesting a sample is also a smart idea if you want to check how a formula feels on your skin before purchasing it.

Even if you prefer to buy foundation at a drugstore, I recommend that you get matched at a higher-end store first. This will help you figure out which colours to look for.

3. BB Cream

I prefer BB cream to traditional foundation because it gives a more natural appearance. If you're searching for a product with skincare advantages like moisturizing or priming, this is an excellent choice (some BB creams have primer built in).

Furthermore, if you are new to makeup, a good BB cream is a better place to start than foundation because it feels lighter on the skin, is difficult to overdo, and can be applied with your fingers.One significant disadvantage of BB creams is that they typically come in limited shade ranges and do not cater to darker skin tones.

4. Concealer

Concealer is a must-have if you have acne, dark circles, or any other type of discoloration.Concealers are available in full-coverage and sheerer-coverage formulations, and which one you should use depends on how much you want to conceal.

When selecting a concealer for acne and/or discoloration, choose a shade that is as close to your foundation/BB cream shade as possible for the most natural look.

Dark circles are a little trickier to conceal because there is so much variation in their shades and how they appear on different skin tones, but in general, a peach or pink-toned concealer will do the trick.

5. Blush

Applying blush can have a significant impact on your overall appearance, and I never leave it out of my makeup routine. Blush is especially important if you're wearing a foundation with more opaque coverage, which can leave your skin looking a little flat. Blush is available in powder, gel, and cream forms, with powder being the most popular. However, cream and gel blush have recently gained popularity.

When selecting a blush colour, choose one that will give you a natural flush. Regardless of your skintone, avoid going too bright or applying with too heavy a hand, as these can make you look clownish.

Pink and peach tones look best on fair-to-medium skin tones, while mauve, purple, and maroon tones look best on darker skin tones.

6. Highlighter

Highlighter, like many other beauty products, comes in a variety of forms, including powder, cream, liquid, stick, and powder/cream hybrid. Each of these forms has its own set of advantages, but for beginners, I recommend powder or stick because they are the easiest to work with.

My go-to highlighter application technique is to lightly dab it along the bridge of your nose, the tops of your cheekbones, your cupid's bow, and just below your brows. You can even use your highlighter as an eye shadow!

Finally, finding the right shade of highlighter, like finding the perfect shade of foundation, is dependent on your specific skin tone and undertones, so it's a good idea to test out different colours in person if possible.

7. Bronzer

Using the right shade of bronzer is essential if you want to achieve a sun-kissed look. I suggest going no darker than one or two shades darker than your natural skin tone, and lightly dusting it all over the high points of your face for a healthy glow, or simply in the hollows of your cheeks (below where you'd put your blush) for a more chiseled look. In either case, use a light hand and blend thoroughly.

The choice between matte and shimmery depends on the rest of your look: If you're using all matte products on your face and want to add some radiance, try something with a bit of sparkle. However, if you're already wearing shimmery makeup, stick to a matte formula to avoid shine overload.

8. Setting Spray/Powder

Setting spray/powder, like face primer, works to keep your makeup in place all day.

There are various formulations available depending on the type of finish you want (matte, radiant, etc.) and what skin care benefits, if any, you want your setting spray/powder to have (e.g. moisturizing, oil-absorbing, etc.). But, if you want your makeup to last, don't skip this step.

Makeup Essentials – Eyes:

9. Eye Primer

My eye makeup would literally be virtually gone within two or three hours before I started using eye primer, so it's been a lifesaver for me.

Not only should a good eye primer keep your eye makeup from sliding off, fading, and creasing, but it should also have a formulation that keeps colours appearing true to how they should all day.Keep in mind that eye primers aren't just for oily skin–there are a variety of hydrating, color-correcting, and anti-aging formulations in the market.

10. Eyeshadow

Eye shadow is my favourite cosmetic product, along with highlighter, because it comes in so many various hues and finishes and can be used in so many different ways.Finding makeup colours and tones that match your eye colour is a terrific method to make your eyes stand out.

Always define your crease, regardless of the style you're striving for - from natural to smoky. By blending the shadow into the crease, you may create depth to your eyes and make them appear larger. The key is to use a soft fluffy brush to build up the eye shadow in a back-and-forth motion.

11. Eye Pencil

If I had to choose only one cosmetics product to wear before leaving the house, it would undoubtedly be eye pencil (or kohl). Because "eyes speak louder than words," I believe they should always be highlighted.

Always begin at the outside corner and work your way inwards while using an eye pencil. Always use tiny strokes and don't be afraid to press the pencil towards the waterline. You will not injure yourself while performing this task. Eye pencils are creamy and silky since they are made with the area in mind where they will be utilized.

12. Mascara

Mascara has a magical way of bringing your entire eye look together, and it comes in a variety of formulas to lengthen, thicken, and curl your lashes.

Most individuals can get away with black mascara, but if you have really light-colored lashes, you might want to try a brown mascara instead for a more natural effect.

13. Eyeliner

Eyeliner, like mascara, may offer that additional something to truly make your eyes pop.

While black eyeliner is frequently considered a must-have, if you have lighter skin, try brown or dark grey. Eyeliner may be applied in a variety of ways, but my preference is to draw a fine line at the lash line and wing it out just a little beyond my eye.If you want to make your eyelashes look thicker, line the waterline with eyeliner. Eye pencils and kohl products created exclusively for this delicate area are available.

If you're concerned of messing up with liquid eyeliner, I recommend lining your eyes first with a similar-colored eye shadow or pencil liner, then going over that line with the liquid liner.

Makeup Essentials – Lips:

14. Lip Gloss

Lip gloss was popular in the early to mid-2000s, but has lately resurfaced, with trendy brands such as Anastasia Beverly Hills, Glossier, and Fenty Beauty all offering their own variations.

When you're in a hurry, don't have access to a mirror, or when the rest of your makeup is more dramatic and calls for a subtler lip, go for lip gloss.

15. Lipstick

You can't dispute that lipstick is having a significant moment right now: whether you prefer a liquid or bullet formula, a glossy, satin, or matte finish, or a glossy, satin, or matte finish, there's a lipstick out there to suit your preferences!

Beginners should start with a colour that is near to their natural lip colour, as this is the easiest to apply and remove.

Once you've mastered that, it's a good idea to invest in a basic red that works with everything and can be worn to class or on special occasions. For a softer look, try a glossy formula or a lip balm, or a matte formula for a more glamorous look.In addition, I recommend wearing a red lip with minimal makeup or none at all.

#makeup #bueaty #mua #fashion #makeupartist #cosmetics #bueatiful #eyelashes #eyeshadow #lipstik #looks #love #brushes

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vanityloves · 4 years ago

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❄️and👏 for medic?

thank you for the ask, sorry for replying so late 😭

word count: 731 bc i cant shut up apparently-

❄️ - What are you and (Y/N)’s favorite activities to do when it’s winter/cold out?

Was anyone gonna tell me that New Mexico can drop below 0°F or was I supposed to google that myself 😐 I'm p sure this is just near the mountain ranges but it gets me thinking about some dumb ski trip. No ❤.

They both like staying indoors and bundling up, especially Chef since they're sensitive to the cold. When winter rolls around both parties get a bit homesick and lonely, since many of the mercs go back home to visit family, the two stay on base (with some others) and are free to do whatever they want until it's work time. Before they become uh, "romantically involved", they'd casually celebrate the holidays together - Chef makes a couple dishes while Medic provides drinks. They typically drink until drunk, aka, Chef can't hold their alcohol, so Medic gets to watch them ramble about something and loosen up.

When they're together, Medic would love to take Chef back to Germany - God forbid he's not actually banned from re-entering the country - to enjoy the snow and sights there! Chef, however, is not accustomed to such a dramatic change in seasons and has to bundle up, big time. It's both funny and sad how they have to layer their clothes and they're a bit over-dramatic about it but so is Medic bc like hell are they getting sick on their trip. If they decide to go around the holidays, they'd visit local Christmas Markets and share warm drinks (Medic gets that hot, spiced wine that Chef chokes drinking, while Chef is a baby and drinks hot chocolate), buy different types of food, look at lights, etc.

They're cute or whatever so they wanna hold each other's hand or link arms when walking around.

Chef is more hesitant on traveling to Japan bc of Personal Reasons but they convince themselves that they'll be far from their hometown. They take the tour guide role to show Medic around, since both cultures are pretty different. They both get lost in the hustle and bustle but they figure it out. Chef takes them to a colder region/side of Japan to get the Full Winter Experience. Sapporo has a snow festival they can walk around and admire the snow sculptures and lights. Ice skating is bound to happen and they're both surprisingly decent so it's kinda sweet 👉👈. Chef has gone to a hot spring like… twice in their childhood and it's a bit awkward thinking about it but they make Medic experience it anyways. But despite the initial uncertainty, it's rejuvenating and helps them relax a bit! They definitely make him try oden and nabe/shabu shabu - Medic can't stand the jelly texture of the food and tries so hard to hold back any rude comments/expressions. Nabe/ Shabu shabu is pretty tame, since it's just different types of meats and vegetables cooked in a broth in front of you!

Chef's more prone to playing in the snow than Medic, mostly bc they haven't grown up with it. It's less of throwing snowballs, moreso, taking their time with walking and listening to the crunch of snow - they're more of a scenic couple rather than thrill seeking, so it's pretty mellow for the most part!

Medic takes Chef shopping for thicker clothes and enjoys introducing them to German cuisine, while Chef takes Medic shopping for snacks and trinkets, taking him to Tokyo would be a trip since it's pretty flashy n the streets are always busy.

Their cheeks are rosy from the cold and they're a bit tired when they get back to their room so they trudge their way to the bed n plop down. It's always nice to turn to a pile of mush after a long day of walking around.

👏 - What’s your favorite habit of (Y/N)’s?

I think my favorite habit of Medic's is the Variations of his goofy ass 'hoo' bc he sounds either Up To No Good like 'oh ho bastard idea' or He's happy n excited ab something, very "Whaddya see boy?" He has a tendency to just...make noises sometimes which I think is really fun n cute? He just hums a certain way n I'm like 'awh yeah for real? wild' qjsjjdj secret language is just talkin in Hums and Ha's.

#self ship #self insert #tf2 oc #tf2 self insert #medic #tf2 headcanons #my writing #s: soul food #catboymeulin #ask reply #ahsjj sorry im on mobile but ill fix it once i whip out my laptop #everyones asleep. post the shit hcs!

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 5 years ago

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Oliver Twist and Little Orphan Annie

PART TWENTY OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: discussions of physical/emotional abuse, anxiety about future, serious angst, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.8K

Summary: As graduation approaches, Ella and Jess paint a room, and attend a party.

“How have you never painted a room before?” Ella asked, tiling her head at Jess as she guided his hand, armed with a roller, up and down.

A creamy white streaked the wall in stark contrast with the old color, giving off pungent fumes. Her one window was opened all the way, letting in the late May air. Rain poured on Stars Hollow, a thunderstorm which brought humidity and lightning. The sky had faded to a dark greenish-gray, a dull bruise. But Ella felt her spirits lifted high. Lorelai had paint leftover from redoing the Independence Inn following the fire, and she’d given it all to Ella. Sometimes, she didn’t know what she would do without the Gilmore matriarch. If she had to stay in her room during college, the least she could do was have a new mural. Three of the walls would be soft eggshell, while she had yet to decide the exact design of the one behind her bed. She had a lot of purple to use, and was thinking something floral. But the base coat was all they needed for the day.

Jess had volunteered rather than been recruited, but it quickly became clear to Ella that he had no idea what he was doing. His first few strokes were patchy at best, textured at worst. She was thankful Luke hadn’t gotten a new apartment back when they were thinking of moving. The plan then had been to have Jess paint it. Ella could only imagine the quarrels which would have ensued. As she guided Jess’s hand, she maneuvered around the mattress in the center of the room, piled high with almost all her belongings and surrounded by layers of plastic to protect the carpet.

“We can’t all be Michelangelo,” he quipped, frustrated with his clear incompetence. In theory, painting a room evenly wasn’t hard. But, a perpetual renter, he had zero experience. Theory was proving much different than practice.

Ella snorted a laugh. “Jess, it’s not the Sistine Chapel. You’re painting one wall with one color.”

“Easy for you to say. You paint all the time.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to help. Just don’t apply too much pressure. We’ll have to do a few coats, but that’s the only way to make it look good.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jess grumbled as she stepped away from him, going to her own paint tray and prepping her roller for the wall next to his.

“I know you will, James Dean,” Ella said, more sincerely than he was expecting.

Smiling a tiny smile, Jess glanced over his shoulder at her. Her hair, held away from her face in a black bandana, fell down her back. The old Pixies t-shirt she wore rose up as she reached high on her tiptoes, exposing the dimples in her back, above the waistband of her worn jeans. His stomach buzzed with pleasant butterflies as he turned back to the wall.

“You write your speech yet?” Jess asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Groaning playfully, Ella shook her head more to herself than to Jess. “No. Not quite ready to pretend to have some inspiring message about the last four years. Also, I’m pretty sure my speech is going to be the last one. I’ll have to follow whatever those student government kids have to say.”

“Well, graduation is still three weeks away. You’ve got some time, Miss Valedictorian,” he said.

“One of four valedictorians,” she reminded him, her tone dismissive. “With the lowest GPA of all four.”

“How many times, Eleanor? It’s still a huge deal.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she said, breathing a soft sigh.

Before Jess could speak again, a quiet knock sounded on the door. Ella’s father didn’t wait to be invited in before he opened the door. Both of them turned and Jess could almost see Ella’s body turn rigid. Jess bit his lip again and put his paint roller down in his tray as Jake Stevens began to speak.

“Hey, Ellie, how’s it going in here?” Jake asked.

“Fine,” Ella shrugged, gazing around the room. “Should be done by tomorrow or day after next.”

Jake nodded. “Good. Don’t want the house smelling like this forever.”

“Right,” she said. “I just figured...white will be a better color for a guest room when I move out, and with the pink gone only one wall will need painting by then.”

“But that won’t be for a while, right?” Jake said, eyebrows raised.

There was almost a warning tone in his voice, Jess thought. In the interactions he’d seen between Ella and her father, it was never blatant. Jake never said anything overtly cruel or malicious, but it was in the way he said things. Like he knew there was nothing his daughter could do to get out from under his thumb. Like he could forever bind her to the role her mother used to fill, the chores and the emotional labor, while still ignoring her as if she didn’t live in the room right next to his. It was such an odd dichotomy.

Jess could definitely understand having a parent who was often neglectful, but there was a strange, controlling element to Jake’s behavior which Jess had never experienced himself. Many of Liz’s boyfriends (and sometimes fiancés, and sometimes husbands) were addicts with less than friendly personalities. But they were never around long enough to establish true manipulation of him. Instead, Jess would fight with them (more often than not, to protect Liz) until they got fed up and left. Then, Liz would blame him for driving the guy away and the cycle would begin again. The last time he’d gotten into a scrap with one of her men, punches had been thrown. Jess had even landed a few himself, but his fighting back proved to be the final straw for Liz. Instead of watching the man walk away from her, she’d sent Jess to Luke. But, of course, she’d moved onto the next one by the time Jess returned to New York following the accident with Rory’s car.

Those men, their main weapon was fear. But Ella’s father wielded guilt instead. He used his words, how he said them, and small actions disguised as discipline, instead of his fists. He loomed over his daughter coldly. She didn’t often talk about it, but Jess knew Ella’s father had slapped her at least once as a child, for talking back to him at the dinner table. She’d made the comment off-handedly, as though it was nothing. As though all parents kept their kids in line using such methods. And she claimed her father hadn’t touched her in anger since, that things were getting better between them, that her father had a hard childhood of his own and he had learned to parent in an abusive environment. But touch wasn’t always the vehicle for household violence. A family could have some kind of love without it being a healthy kind of love. It wasn’t dramatic, he didn’t witness any blow-outs. And though Jake always had a beer in hand when he was home, Ella only shook her head when Jess brought it up, told him her father never got blackout drunk anymore. Not since Fiona came around. But the subtle, warning tone was always there. And Jess could see shades of it every time Jake and Ella spoke to each other.

“Yeah,” Ella said, offering a weak smile. “Not for a while. But I’ll be thanking myself in four years.”

“Smart,” Jake agreed, nodding. Then, he turned to Jess: “And how are you, young man? No college plans I hear?”

“No,” Jess said, shaking his head. “Personally, I think I’m better equipped for trades.”

Again, Jake nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on Jess. “I suppose only time will tell, won’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, it will,” Jess said shortly.

Jake smiled thinly. “Well, I can’t wait to see the room when it’s done. As you were, kids.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Ella said, picking her roller back up as her father shut the door behind him.

Swallowing dryly, she took a second to listen to the rain outside. She flexed her free hand once and then got back to work, humming a Fleetwood Mac song under her breath. Jess watched, hesitant to say a word. Slowly, he began to paint again, rollers squeaking quietly against the walls.

“I hate it when he calls me ‘young man,’” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

She scoffed. “Wow, I’m shocked.”

“Yes, I’m very unpredictable,” he quipped. “There you go, type-casting me again.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re James Dean back from the dead,” she teased, smirking over at him. “Speaking of which, are you too cool for the party next weekend, or are you gonna come watch Lane play with me?”

Running his free hand over his mouth, Jess locked eyes with her, looking over his shoulder again. “Depends. Are we gonna go make fun of everything like we’re gonna do at prom?”

Ella nodded. “Everything except the music. You can come be a Grinch with me, just like at the diner on Christmas.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And you don’t get to complain about my driving at prom. It’ll be a station wagon instead of a limo, since your rust bucket is gone,” Ella reminded him. Three weeks prior, Jess had walked out of the diner one morning and found his car gone. He had heard no leads about it since.

He sighed through his nose. “Whatever you say, soccer mom. I’ll get the tickets this week.”

“Okay, but I’m paying you back for mine.”

“If you insist,” he shrugged.

“I do.”

His eyes lingered on her a moment longer as she reached high on the wall. Sidestepping his painting tray, he brought a gentle hand to the small of her back and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Scrunching up her nose, she chuckled and told him not to distract her. And he went back to work laughing.

. . .

Though there were rips in her fishnets, Ella felt an added, confident skip to her step as she passed town square. The Spring Fling festival banner was still hung over the gazebo, though it had ended with a parade the night before. Bunches of flowers still lined the streets, beginning to wilt in the heat of May. In the back of her mind, she worried vaguely about her dark eye makeup melting off in the sunshine. Her Doc Martens squeaked on the tile floor of Luke’s as she waltzed in, breathing a small sigh at the gust of cool air conditioning. She smoothed down her black floral dress, blowing loose strands of hair, which had fallen from her half-up, half-down look, away from her freckled cheeks.

Only a few customers peppered the red tables, and no one occupied the counter. Luke scribbled on his pad as he stood behind the ancient register, preparing to close.

“Hey, Luke,” she called, smiling slightly at him.

He mumbled a greeting to her, not glancing up. Ella scoffed out a laugh at his disinterest, and didn’t bother asking if it was alright before going behind the curtain and trudging up the stairs. He’d been acting off lately, and though she wondered if it was something to do with his lawyer lady friend, she knew better than to ask. She’d spent the afternoon before visiting Julie in New Britain, and he seemed to have cooled off at least a little since she’d last seen him. Granted, it had been a Thursday, inventory day. One could always expect a fair amount of open hostility from Luke on inventory day. Ella could hear the sound of the Sex Pistols before she even neared the apartment door. Only knocking twice, and assuming she wouldn’t be heard over the music anyway, she stepped into the apartment. Jess sat up in his bed, reading Dead Souls, brows furrowed in concentration in spite of the noise.

Smirking, she came over and turned down the music to half volume. He only looked up to see her as Johnny Rotten got quieter, and blinked in surprise at her. She set her bag shoulder bag down on the worn wooden floor and sat at the end of the bed, legs hanging off the side.

“Hey, James Dean,” she said. “More light reading?”

He shrugged. “Seems that way.”

Clicking her tongue, she shook her head to herself. “I can just never stomach the Russians.”

Finally, one corner of his mouth quirked slightly upward. “So unrefined.”

She shrugged. “Maybe someday you’ll convert me.”

“Someday.” Jess put his book on the nightstand and ran a hand over his mouth. “You look ready to rock and roll all night and party every day.”

Rolling her eyes, Ella ignored the (millionth) KISS joke and cast her eyes down to her outfit once more. “Thanks. I was going for sort of a Winona Ryder thing.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“That I am,” she smiled, standing from the bed and holding a hand out to him. “We gotta go if we want to see the full set.”

Sighing through his nose, he grabbed her hand to pull himself up and nodded.

“Oh, and I finished my speech today,” she said as she watched him go over to the dresser to change out of the shirt he’d worn on shift and into his Metallica tee.

“Huh.”

“If you wanna read it before graduation, I can give you inside access,” she teased. “Or you can be surprised at the actual ceremony.”

“As long as it doesn’t mention me,” he muttered as he changed and checked his hair in the mirror.

She snorted a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mariano.”

Watching his reflection in the mirror, she saw a half hearted smirk cross his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. He ran a hand over his mouth again as he appraised his reflection, and Ella’s brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He turned back to her and gave an unconvincing nod. “Fine.”

“Really? We don’t have to go if you’re not okay, y’know. I mean, I want to see Lane play, but in general I think parties are meaningless excuses for teenage debauchery.”

Jess didn’t look back at her when he spoke, turning off his music and going over by the door to grab his shoes. “We’re going. I know how much you wanna see Lane.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she noticed the storms brewing in his brown eyes. His face was slightly pale. He looked exhausted. When he straightened up, shoes on, she went over and put her hand to his cheek.

“Do you feel sick?” she asked, feeling him lean into her touch though he wasn’t feverish. “You were fine Thursday night, but you closed alone. Did you get to sleep afterwards? I know sometimes if you work too late you can’t get to sleep-“

“Eleanor,” he cut her off, his voice tired, “I’m fine. Let’s just go. Please.”

Raising at a hesitant brow at the shortness of his tone, she bit her tongue and nodded slowly. He certainly didn’t seem fine, but they would be late if they waited much longer. And Lane was counting on her being there. Jess grabbed her hand and led her out of the apartment. And when he felt her give his hand a reassuring squeeze, he had to swallow down the myriad of emotions which rose in his throat.

. . .

Lane’s band, which still had yet to earn a name, got through the first set with little to no bumps in the road. The living room was stuffy, a suburban wet dream filled to the brim with drunk students. An ever-present smile shone on Ella’s face as she watched her friend banging it out on the drums, despite how much she disliked the stickiness of the atmosphere. She knew how much Lane had always wanted this, her own band, her own instrument. As they finished up with their first thirty minutes, having announced an intermission, Dave Rygalski walked by her, Jess, and Rory with a nod. Ella was glad Jess and Dave had been getting along so well. If Jess was going to stay in Stars Hollow for the foreseeable future, he had to have some other friends besides her and Rory. As soon as Lane hopped up from her drums, she came squealing over to the three of them in excitement, engulfing Rory in a hug. However, before she had too much of a chance to babble about the set, Dave whisked her away for a private conversation.

Rory smiled over at Jess and Ella weakly when she saw Dean nearing their vicinity with his new girlfriend, Lindsey, and quickly retreated to another room. Ella leaned back against Jess, who stood behind her, near the pristine couch, with his arms wrapped around her waist. She could feel his breathing against her back, smell his pine scent. And she thought for the first time in a very long time that the future might not just be survivable, but bright. Soon, she would be a high school graduate, be (tentatively) majoring in history, which had been her second-best subject in public school, still working at the diner. It wasn’t what her wildest dreams called for, but it certainly wasn’t bleak.

Jess’s breath was hot on her neck as he spoke into her ear, which was still buzzing from the loud music and the crowd. “You wanna go?”

She shook her head against his chest. “I think we should stay for the second set. And I haven’t even gotten a chance to talk to Lane yet. She’ll probably need my sage wisdom after whatever she and Dave are talking about.”

“Elle, I don’t-”

Before he could finish, he saw Dean and Lindsey heading directly for them. Ella could feel Jess’s muscles instantly tense, his hands tightening around her own, his face stony. She knew how the feud started, with Dean trying to pull Jess away from a fight when Jess first came to town. But, then again, she had once gotten him off of Peter Smith. Only then, he didn’t take a swing at her like he had at Dean. If Jess hadn’t changed so much since then, and Dean hadn’t been such an asshole to Rory, she probably would’ve been on Dean’s side. But in the few times she’d heard Jess and Dean speak, she knew there was fault on both sides. And she was inclined to align with one of her best friends and her boyfriend before some possessive dick from Chicago.

“Hey, guys,” Dean began, his hand in Lindsey’s grasp as they ambled over. “Have you seen Rory?”

Ella actually liked Lindsey. They’d been acquaintances in high school (though in a class of only about seventy kids, one was usually acquaintances with everyone else), and had always thought her very sweet. And she could rock the bleach blonde look like no one else in their grade. It was certainly a style choice Ella could admire.

Ella shrugged. “She’s around here somewhere. Why?”

“Just thought I’d say hello,” Dean replied, eyes searching the room for his ex-girlfriend, while his new girlfriend stood at his side.

“How sweet of you,” Jess said, venom in his voice.

Ella cleared her throat and pivoted the conversation before Dean could shoot anything back. “Yeah, anyway, you guys like the band?”

“Oh, they were great. I can’t say I recognized a lot of the songs, though,” Lindsey smiled, her voice light.

Nodding, Ella attempted a generous smile back. “Don’t feel bad. Lane knows every song in the English language. And some in pretty much every other language, too. There are bound to be some deep cuts in their repertoire, if she has any say in the set lists.”

Lindsey chuckled.

“So, Ella, I heard you’re going to Southern Connecticut State?” Dean asked, continuing the small talk despite the thick tension in the air.

Still, Ella forced a plastic smile on her face. She knew Rory wouldn’t want her causing any trouble, as the heartbreak was still so fresh. And she’d been able to master her people-pleasing artificiality after her years of serving Taylor at the diner.

“Yeah. Managed to score a spot.”

“Me too,” Dean said. “What are you going for?”

“History.”

“Oh, cool. I’m thinking maybe business, but I’m not entirely sure yet.” Dean had at some point focused his attention away from Ella and onto Jess, who still had his arms wrapped around Ella, watching the awkwardness silently. He just wanted whatever small town, false polite nonsense which was necessary to be over. “What about you, Jess?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going to college or anything, right? Seems like you’re not going to school at all anymore, anyway.” Dean narrowed his eyes at Jess, and a momentary staring contest ensued.

Disentangling himself from Ella, Jess decided not to humor Dean’s attempt to rile him. “I’m gonna go check out the state of that bathroom line,” he muttered to Ella before trudging off.

Brows furrowing in concern, Ella's eyes lingered on him as he went, until he turned a corner and she lost sight of him. Huffing out an angry breath, she turned back to Lindsey, and Dean, who had a pleased expression on his face. Shaking her head, mostly to herself, she excused herself to go find Lane, maneuvering through the sweaty bodies and drunken mumbles.

. . .

Balmy air and crickets, Ella finally found Jess again out on the back porch. Most people were inside, gearing up for the band’s second set. She’d had to spend a pretty long time pulling a drunken Lane off the phone to her mother, aided by a still-shaken Rory. The evening seemed to have come to a screeching halt in the hour since the first set, and Ella was debating grabbing Jess’s hand and dragging him out. It was doubtful Lane would be conscious enough to make it through a song, let alone a second set. When Ella didn’t see his gelled black curls in the living room sea of teenage heads, she knew right where Jess would be. The night was pleasant, not quite too warm or humid, despite it being late May.

He stood with his forearms leaned against the railing, facing the lush green backyard, and he didn’t even look back when he heard her open and close the screen door. Ambling up next to him, her boots felt heavy on her feet. The air was cool on her hot skin, and the spring breeze blew her hair from her face. Arms against the polished wooden rail, mirroring him, she waited a few moments before finally speaking in a soft tone. She tilted her head to the red solo cup Jess held in his hands.

“Penny for a sip?” she asked.

Jess smirked. Saying nothing, he held the cup out to her. Taking a gulp of his slightly warm beer, she grimaced and then handed it back to him.

“Thank you, good sir.”

“Who are you? Oliver Twist?”

She shrugged, noncommittal. “Or Little Orphan Annie. Can’t keep my broadway straight. You could probably help me out.”

“Very funny, Stevens,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his face. But it didn’t meet his eyes. They lacked their usual sardonic sparkle, even in the glowing moonlight.

Leaning into his shoulder, Ella took in another deep breath of the fresh air. “What are you doing out here, James Dean? Did you not bring your sulking book?”

“Just couldn’t handle it inside.” He took another swig of his drink, emptying the cup, and set it carefully on the railing next to him.

“Was it Dean?” Ella asked, placing a hand on the back of his neck and running her fingers through the ends of his hair.

Jess glanced down at the ground with a bitter chuckle. “You think I actually care about Frankenstein’s monster in there?”

She scoffed knowingly. “Okay, fair enough. We can go soon, if you want. Lane’s wasted and Rory’s all messed up about Dean being here. And, I think I forgot to feed the cat? I have no idea why I let him stay in our house. He showed up right after my mom died, and kept hanging around our porch. He was already so old and he was so skinny. So I started letting him in when it got colder. My dad barely even noticed. I thought he’d be grateful, but now he hates us. Guess there was a lot of yelling and crying going on when he first came to live with us. But I suppose misery loves company-”

“I just…” Jess began, cutting off her rambling voice. He knew she was still waiting for an answer, but didn’t want to ask him another question. “You work your ass off for four years, and Dean still gets into the same college as you.”

Ella shrugged. “I don’t mind. There’s lots of people there. I probably won’t ever see him.”

“At least he’s finishing high school,” Jess muttered, shaking his head to himself and looking down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them in fists.

Brows furrowed, Ella’s hand fell from his skin and she tilted her head in askance. “What do you mean?”

He heaved a big sigh, looking out into the woods beyond the yard. Somewhere through the trees, he thought he could see the shine of the lake. An ache tugged at his heart, and his stomach did a flip before he spoke again.

“I went to get prom tickets when you were in the art room at lunch today. But then I got called to the principal’s office. He said I missed too many days.”

“And?”

Chewing on his bottom lip, he shook his head again. “Don’t make me say it, Elle.”

Pursing her lips, she brought her hands to her hips and nodded. “Guess you’ll need my speech in advance, then.”

“Guess so,” he echoed flatly, finally stealing a glance at her to gauge her reaction. With her strong stance, he could practically see the gears moving inside her head. There was a crease of concentration between her eyebrows, and she began biting at her nails absently.

“And you haven’t told Luke yet?” she asked.

“Nope.”

Again, she nodded, more decisive this time. “Okay...okay. I wish you could stay with me, but my dad will have you dead inside a day. I bet if you take twelfth grade over Luke’ll let you stay. I mean, I know he tries to act all tough, but I don’t know who he thinks he’s kidding.”

Jess straightened up again, running a hand over his mouth. He turned to face her. “I’m not going back to school. I can’t.”

“Of course you can, Jess. World bites you, you bite back.”

“Fine, then. I won’t.”

“Why not? Where are you gonna go?”

He could only shrug in response, looking back down at his shoes. Sometimes her gaze was so intense, even he couldn’t handle it. Usually, though, it was because of butterflies in his stomach, not because his heart was pounding nervously in his ears.

Swallowing dryly, she tried to maintain a calm facade. “No, Jess. You can’t do that Kerouac bullshit right now. You need a plan. I mean…” she paused to sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You told me you had it under control. You told me all I had to do was trust you.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he composed himself and then wiped all emotion from his face when he looked back up at her. “I thought I did. I didn’t know how many days I missed, alright? But who cares! I never learned anything there anyway! It was a waste of my time!”

“And driving that forklift at Walmart forever isn’t a waste of your time?” she retorted, beginning to raise her voice. “If it made you happy, I’d say go for it. But it doesn’t! You’re too fucking smart for your own good, Mariano! You’re meant to be a writer! And you’re gonna settle on wasting your brain just because you were too proud to repeat senior year?!”

“Don’t talk to me about settling!” he countered, shaking his head.

“Fuck you, Jess,” she said, eyes narrowing as more blood rushed to her face, turning her skin scarlet with frustration. “Not everyone can just go wherever they want! Live wherever they want! I have people I actually care about!”

Rubbing at his mouth again, he sighed. “Yeah, well, lucky you! My mother is a wackjob who shipped me off because her boyfriend of the week didn’t like me! And my father is a fucking loser who couldn’t say more than two words when he finally met me!”

Ella took a step back in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Jess breathed another exhausted sigh. “On Thursday, after you left. While I was closing. My dad came in, saw me for the first time in eighteen years. He told me who he was, took a good long look at me, and then ran right back out of the diner!”

There was a seismic shift in her face, eyes softening, color draining. Shaking her head, she went to touch his shoulder. “Oh my god, Jess. I didn’t-”

He shrugged off her hand. “Yeah, you didn’t know. Because I didn’t tell you. Because I’m just your deadbeat, high school dropout boyfriend who’s gonna work at Walmart for the rest of his life! How disappointing!”

“That’s not what I said!” she exclaimed, swallowing back the sting of tears in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I can read between the lines pretty well at this point, honey,” he shot back, with a vicious, contemptuous tone.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she tried to remain calm. She tried to remember Jess had just failed senior year and met his dad for the first time in a span of two days. But, as always, the fire in her stomach won. It was something about the way he looked at her. So cold. Like he felt nothing for her at all. Her heart dropped and she began to back away, towards the screen door.

“Fine. Fuck it! Go and find yourself. While I stay here, and think about what a fucking mistake it was to trust you when we said no cop-outs! Serves me right. Holden fucking Caulfield!” she shouted, slamming the sliding door behind her.

Raking a hand through his messy hair, Jess took no more than one moment of hesitation before rushing after her. It was crowded inside, people standing around waiting for a second set which would likely never be played. After a little frantic searching and weaving through smelly bodies, he found her. She was marching up the stairs to find Rory, who stood looking exceedingly uncomfortable speaking with Dean and Lindsey on the landing. Ella tugged on Rory’s sleeve, muttering something about finding Lane and leaving the drums to pick up later. A scowl crossed her face the moment she looked back to see Jess.

“Did he do something, Ella?” Dean piped up, towering over her and casting an authoritative glance at Jess.

Ella snorted a laugh and shook her head. “You can stand down, Dean. He did nothing. Nothing at all. Fuck off, alright, Mariano?”

Catching the finitive, vitriolic tone in Ella’s voice, Jess shook his head back at her. Apparently she had decided the conversation was over. “Right back at ya, then, Stevens.”

But as he went to leave, Dean kicked into action. Before Ella, Rory, or Lindsey, could grab him and pull him back, he went into full testosterone rage and lunged after Jess, turning him about and clocking him square across the face. Ella watched in horror, and immediately went after them. Confusion painted her face. She heard Dean muttering under his breath as he fought, about what an asshole Jess was, about how Rory’s friends were his responsibility too, and they shouldn’t be spoken to that way. About how it was time Jess got a taste of his own medicine, making him feel like an idiot in class and acting like he was too good for Stars Hollow. She’d never had any classes with Dean and Jess, but the altercation made her wonder how deeply the feud ran. Apparently, much deeper than she ever thought. If not for the urgency of the situation, Ella would have rolled her eyes harder than she had prior known was humanly possible. She couldn’t help but wonder what at all Rory or Lindsey saw in that sexist prick. In Ella’s opinion, the Donna Reed Show incident two years earlier should’ve been the end of the relationship.

All around the house, they fought, various others trying to pull them off of each other. Each time Ella thought she had an opening to grab Dean or Jess around the waist, they moved, jostling around. It was far more intense than the quarrel in the schoolyard had been. No, tonight there would be blood drawn. Finally, after a decent amount of carnage to the mid-century Connecticut two-story, someone managed to throw the two of them out onto the front lawn, still at each other’s throats. Ella yelled endlessly for them to stop, but neither listened. Only the sound of the police sirens approaching, red and blue lights flashing on the manicured grass, finally made them separate, a few boys at the party also aiding the effort.

Just as Ella started rushing over to Jess, Lane began vomiting up the shitty keg beer she’d gulped down all night long into the trimmed bushes. Rory was by her side, but ultimately Ella cast only a sympathetic glance their way before continuing after Jess. She caught up with him a few paces down the sidewalk, grabbing the sleeve of his t-shirt to finally stop him.

“Jess, Jesus, are you okay?” she demanded, trying to get a substantial glimpse at his face.

Once again, he shook off her touch. He turned back to her in the light of the sheriff’s car, eyes darker than she had ever seen them. “Get outta here, Eleanor! I don’t need your help!”

“But, your-”

“Stop, Elle, just stop!” he interrupted, gesturing with his arms and practically bursting with anger. “Stop chasing after me! Stop trying to help me! That’s over! I don’t need it, alright? You can just fucking stop!”

Clutching at her necklace, she felt a heavy weight settle in her stomach, gluing her to the spot where she stood, hazel eyes impossibly wide. Watching him go, watching him disappear around a corner, watching him walk away. And the worst part was how unsurprised she felt. Had it always been this way? Him ready to leave at a moment’s notice, and her stuck in her old, familiar ways? Were they bound to end the moment they began? She should have seen it sooner. Suddenly, the sounds of the siren and the singing of late spring crickets overwhelmed her ears, and she could do nothing but stand motionless, feeling a sharp crack in her heart.

#jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano au #jess mariano imagines #jess #mariano #jess mariano #gilmore girls #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls au #rory gilmore #lane kim #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano x original character #original character stories

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crusnikroxas · 5 years ago

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Imagine this! The boys are out and the reader decides to do a self care day with face masks. They are sitting on the counter cross legged in the bathroom, peeling off a clear peel on mask with the door open and the boys come home to see it. And before Y/N can explain the boys react badly 😂😂😂😂

Ooooh, this is fun (✧∇✧) (so this’ll take place in the DEISY universe, just so you know)

“Sister, we shall not be gone long! I imagine that this business of Undyne being stuck under a boulder shall be nothing for the great Papyrus, nyeh-heh-heh!” Sans looks far less enthusiastic about the whole endeavor, but regardless, he winks in a comforting manner as he softly caresses your cheek. “Be back in a flash, sweetheart.” “Literally, considering that handy teleporting of yours.” He winks again, though Papyrus seems highly offended by this. “Nonsense! It will take a mere three hours to walk to Undyne’s house!”

....now Sans looked all the more unenthusiastic about this ‘adventure’.

“Bro, look, as cool as walkin’ through blizzards and rain sounds-” “Exactly! Very cool indeed! Let us be off, Sans!” And before poor Sans can even protest, Papyrus yanks his brother up and onto his shoulder, sprinting out the door, cackling victoriously all the way. You roll your eyes and chuckle from your place on the couch, stretching luxuriously as you do so. It had been a while since you’d found yourself on your own - and while the house seemed almost unsettlingly quiet without the brothers present, you inwardly vowed that you would enjoy this moment of solitude. Jumping up from your cozy spot, you stretch once again, releasing a sigh of contentment when almost all of your joints let out ear-splitting pops and cracks - a luxury you hadn’t really been allowed as of late, considering....the weird skeleton thing, that you still didn’t really understand. Practically bounding up the staircase Papyrus-style, you rush to your room, reach under the bed, and dig around for what you were seeking, letting out a quiet noise of victory as you find your prize - a bag that Kat had delivered to you just the other day.

Filled to the brim with human ‘spa day’ items.

Face masks, body scrubs, body lotions, heavenly smelling shampoo, conditioner, and body wash....yup, it was all there. Now, you weren’t normally one to indulge in such things (hell, this stuff was expensive, and on the surface you’d barely been able to buy yourself a new toothbrush when needed), but Kat had insisted that you take it. “Aw, c’mon - it’s not like I have many clientele who’ll want this stuff anyway! Plus, you deserve it after all you’ve been through, sweet.” You hadn’t had even the slightest bit of room to argue - plus, it wasn’t as if she was wrong, anyway. You had been through a bit of a hellish time lately, to say the least. Besides, not only would you smell amazing at the end of all this, it would also help to distract you from the fact that you were all alone in the house, and anybody could-

No. No. Not thinking about that. Self-care time.

Nodding resolutely, you stand with your treasures in tow, and hurry yourself down to the bathroom. Instead of digging through the bag carefully like one should, you simply tip the contents all over the bathroom floor, sorting out what you would want to try out on this particular day.

Your choices in the end were:

-Deep conditioner, heavy with the scent of roses.

-A luxurious shampoo and conditioner with a matching scent to the deep conditioner (not from the same brand, but eh, close enough).

-Jasmine body scrub and body wash.

-Another floral body lotion - you weren’t sure what flower it was meant to smell like (you couldn’t understand the language on the front, and the picture was pretty nondescript), but you knew that it smelt good, and you wanted it.

-And lastly, charcoal face mask - you’d heard that this stuff was damn good, and had always wanted to try it; the fact that it was in the bag was a blessing in your book.

Satisfied with your choices, you shoved the rest of the stuff back into the bag and got to work.

Firstly, came the deep conditioner - and man, you had not realised what a hassle the damn stuff would be. Sure, putting it onto your hair was all fine and dandy, but having to wrap your head in cling-film was an utter bitch. How the hell had all those women on the ‘do it yourself’ videos made it look so easy?

After your dramatic battle to make your hair more luxurious, you chill out on the couch reading more of Sans’ quantum physics book (nothing like catching up on atomic and subatomic scales), waiting out the time instructed on the bottle - and when that time was up, you traveled back into the bathroom for your next struggle.

Sure, the body scrub smelled delicious, but the sandy texture soon became very troublesome to shove and massage onto your skin - eventually, your task is complete, leaving you a grumbling gritty mess as you unwrap your hair and finally step into the shower to wash the damn stuff off.

But when you finally do, you realise that all that effort was well worth it - your skin felt stupidly smooth as the water flowed over your body. Releasing a contented sigh, you massage your scalp, freeing your hair from the heavy conditioner product - the bathroom is soon filled with the scent of roses and jasmine as you continue your work, the smirk on your face wide as you wonder how your skeletal roommates would react to the bathroom smelling like a damn flower garden.

When you finally step out of the shower and run the towel over yourself, you can’t help but let out another contented sigh; even if it had been a hassle thus far, your skin was so soft, and you smelt amazing. Still, you couldn’t understand how some women did this on a daily basis.

Sufficiently dry, you gently begin to rub tiny amounts of the lotion into your already soft skin - you didn’t want to overdo it and make your body and bathroom into a slip’n’slide (something tells you it wouldn’t be nearly as fun as it sounds). Now, all you had to do was wait for your skin to absorb it....

....and once that step was complete, you knew that your greatest challenge lay ahead.

Releasing a puff of air, you wrap your hair securely in a towel, dress yourself, and face the slightly fogged up bathroom mirror with a determined expression.

“...ok. We got this. Just....not the eyebrows. Definitely not the eyebrows.”

Bit by bit, you smear the inky goop that was the face mask onto your skin, carefully ensuring that it wouldn’t rip of anything you wanted to keep (like your eyebrows, for instance). After a moment of looking at your frankly terrifying face in the mirror, you let out a snort of laughter, reading the back of the package.

“Leave on until dry....right, back to the books, then.”

Sadly, this was how the brothers found you.

Reading peacefully on the couch.

While your face looked as if it was suffering from some kind of goopy necrosis.

All of you stare at one another for the longest of moments - their expressions slowly forming into utter horror, yours forming into a strange mix between concern and laughter.

“OH MY GOD! SISTER!”

Papyrus is the first to move, rushing to your side, sending the poor innocent book you’d been reading flying out of your hands and across the living room.

“Y/N! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

You wince as he yells as loud as he can in your face.

“....yes?”

Papyrus still scrabbles around, clearly at a loss of what to do - Sans simply seemed to be frozen in place at the doorway, his sockets empty of their usual eye-lights.

Whoops. Never a good sign.

“Uh, you know, I’m actually-”

“ARGH! THE FIRST AID BOOK NEVER WARNED THAT HUMAN’S FACES COULD MELT! ARE YOU TURNING INTO A SKELETON?! IS THIS HOW HUMANS TURN INTO SKELETONS?! THIS IS-”

“Papyrus, listen-”

You gently place a hand on his arm, stilling his motions - oh man, you felt awful for making them worry like this, but some part of you couldn’t help but want to laugh at the situation.

“-it’s just a face-mask.”

He blinks.

“...face....mask? Sister, while it is indeed on your face, it does not look like-”

“It’s a weird thing that humans do sometimes to relax! Trust me, perfectly safe. I’ve been, uh, indulging the entire time you guys were gone. Kat gave me some presents, so I....”

You look over to Sans, letting out a sigh of relief to see that his eye-lights were back in place, and instead of looking terrified, he now merely looked perplexed. Walking over to the couch, he reaches out to poke your cheek, which you quickly block.

“Hey! If you touch it before it’s dry, it won’t work its magic!”

Sans snorted (though he now looked vaguely worried).

“Wait, it’s not gonna make your face different....right?”

“No, it’s going to...uh....hang on...”

You get up from your spot on the couch, hurry into the bathroom, and hurry back, face-mask box in hand.

“Ok....anti-aging, though that’s probably just wishful thinking....cleans skin pores...yup. That’s about it.”

“...what’s the point, then?”

You think on this for a moment, before shrugging.

“Like I said, just one of the weird things humans do. I should have cucumber slices on my eyes too, but I wanted to read.”

Sans lets out the loudest of snorts at this, sniggering as Papyrus plants his hands on his hips with a frown.

“What would cucumber on your eyes do? I was always told to use limes!”

“...Papyrus, cucumber slices are supposed to be...relaxing and cooling. Limes would burn the utter hell out of my eyes.”

“...ah. That would explain why they stung my sockets so much when I tried, then.”

Sans was practically killing himself with laughter at this point, tears leaking out of his sockets as he collapsed to the carpet.

“It is not a funny matter, brother! Limes and cucumbers are both very similar in colour, so of course it would be incredibly easy to mix them up!”

This did not help Sans’ laughing fit in the least, of course - Papyrus lifted his arms up in a ‘I resign’ manner, before turning to you.

“Y/n, despite the...positive results for your skin, please attempt to remove that before dinner. It might fall into the spaghetti, and as I am not preparing squid-ink spaghetti, it would not look very nice.”

You give him a salute, before he stomps into the kitchen, leaving you on the couch with a still hysterically laughing Sans on the carpet.

It’s only at night when both you and Sans are tucked up nice and snug that your efforts during the day are truly recognised.

He audibly sniffs, leaving you to smirk up at him, while he looks down at you in confusion.

“...did you just sniff me?”

“...well....you, uh...smell different.”

Your smirk widens.

“Nice?”

“...well, I mean...you always smell nice, but....it’s just....different?”

“Oh, I always smell nice, do I?”

He huffs, shoving his face into your hair, his reply a muffled grumble.

“...you know what I mean.”

Sniggering, you manage to find one of his hands to grab onto under the burrito of covers the two of you had buried yourself under. He squeezes back, before he clearly pauses - his fingers slowly inch their way up your arm, his face leaving your hair to look down at you suspiciously. You smirk widens all the more.

“...it’s soft, huh?”

He chuckles, snuggling you closer.

“....yup. Sleep well, you pampered princess.”

“Excuse me! I did all that work myself, and it was hell - all so I could smell like a flower and be super soft!”

His chuckles grow louder, his hand patting you comfortingly.

“And it all worked out like a charm, sweetheart. Hope that you had a good day.”

“I...I did, I think? How about your day? Did you get Undyne out from under the boulder ok?”

“....Papyrus and Undyne ended up, uh, causing a cave-in. Undyne’s gonna have to stay with Alphys for a bit until her house is rebuilt. Again.”

“...oh.”

Pffft, welp, there you go, tiny one-shot of y/n’s day of luxury ;3 Hope you enjoyed!

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sanstropfremir · 4 years ago

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Okay, time for my weekly rant so buckle up. The vocal stages were okay-I cant really remember them well because I watched them only once so take what I say with a grain of salt. Well I watched the Spark one once and I only got through half of the other one because I can’t stand ballads especially when there’s no interesting movement on stage to keep me engaged. Like it’s no fault of the members themselves or the song (I actually think their singing was incredibly beautiful and Eunkwang always sings like his wife just left him with the kids which is how you know he’s good) but I physically could not pay attention. That’s why I liked the spark stage a bit better-there was enough movement that I was able to focus on it. I really liked the use of the fire and the way they were walking in and out of the frame trading off parts so there weren’t too many awkward moments where the other members where on stage but not doing anything. The opening was gorgeous with each members being lit by the spotlight as they harmonize. So stagewise, I prefer Spark but vocally I think the other group was stronger. I love Spark and Taeyon is such an incredible vocalist (I mean the song is great because of her) so I don’t get why their delivery was, I don’t want to say weak, but subdued might be a better word. The only one that really stood out was Junhoe (but also that man couldn’t not stand out even if he tried, not with that incredibly rasp) and even he seemed to be holding himself back a bit. Though it was a bit slow it built up well to the two last choruses but still the first half could have been stronger. I know they were trying to draw it out to a strong pay off but I don’t really know if it was enough. And yes the suits were *chef’s kiss*. I think at this point in their career the FNC stylist has put SF9 in so many suits they’ve got it down to a science. Also I’m a sucker for those shirts with the triangle cut out and we got not one but two of them here.

Okay moving on, I’m not sure which group was next but I’ll talk about the Ikon stage. It seems like they finally realized that they’re on a performance based competition show so they decided to pull out the big guns. Love the little skit at the beginning (making sure people don’t forget that they’re YG), it was cute and refreshing. I really appreciated how they leaned into the campy acting in this stage (Stray kids did it too-just adding to the similarities between their stages). The song was meh but I also don’t really like BP especially not their recent stuff so it’s not a big deal. I would have preferred if they had gone with another song maybe Whistle or As If It’s Your Last or if they’d done a 2NE1 song like Chanwoo mentioned some point in the episode. I also think the stage would have been way smoother if they’d let Ikon and Lisa interact. Like if the boys appeared in her set after her section and then they all moved back to the first jungle set and then the whole thing turns gold and they did a dramatic outfit change (but with better jackets because theirs look like they came out of Party City). I also get what you mean about the dancers outfits not being that great. I actually really liked the outfits of Lisa’s dancers in isolation but they didn’t match with her or the set so they threw me off a bit. At least with the ikon members they were going for a modern look so the dancers outfits didn’t look that strange in comparison. Do you think it would have been better if they were white? How would you have improved then? The best way I can describe this performance was that it was a stage, stuff happened, I enjoyed myself but I don’t plan to revisit it anytime soon. Oh and we also have to give points for them cursing on national television not once but twice (at this point Jinwan deserves to say fuck).

Now to Stray Kids. So I feel like I need to preface this with the fact that I am actually a stray kids fan (I won’t call myself a stay because I don’t associate with the fandom) and though I’ve been really critical of them and their stages tend to be my least favorite I still have a soft spot for them (I got into this show because of them after all). I loved, loved, loved the intro with Felix (and yes his biggest flaw is that he’s Australian but I forgive him for it) and the way it immediately transitions into the chorus of DDD-the abrupt transition does fit really well with the Deadpool theme and I guess it is the closest they’re going to get to the feeling of yeeting themselves into traffic like in the movie. Interesting choice to start with the chorus. Now that I’m rewatching it I do really wish they stuck with the comic theme. I think that’s my gripe with SKZ-they have a lot of good ideas but they move on too quickly from them. Just pick a handful of things and sprinkle them throughout instead of cycling through them at breakneck speed. Like okay they’re doing Deadpool and he’s a comic character so keep the comic styling (it would have been a good thing to put in the projection behind Seungmin’s scene), maybe in the subway they could have had some fight choreo so the guns coming in at Lee Knows part aren’t out of nowhere (also someone please tell me they were trying to recreate the meme with the cat and the knives, please I need to know). I absolutely agree that them having a goal or an antagonist would have really helped the story along. I mean they literally have a spoken intro so why couldn’t Felix just tell us who they were fighting (and I’m pretty sure in the movie Wade tells us he’s trying to kill Francis in that scene sooo). As always they put more focus on the rappers (please can we get less Changbin and more Seungmin, Jeongin, or Lee Know or at least give Felix more parts). Seungmin was the real mvp of this stage and he had the best outfit (I think it qualifies for Hanya’s best gay little outfit list). Personally I with they hadn’t gone with Gods Menu again. I’ve been hoping that they would perform My Pace (and maybe remix it with their B-side TA off their Go Live album) because that would be such a fun stage. Again, I enjoyed myself but I won’t revisit it anytime soon. At this point the only groups I actually look forward to are BTOB and SF9 (they’re doing fucking Move and I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified-there’s a clip of Taeyang covering Move from a variety show or interview and I think he does it really well so I know at least one of them can pull it off). Again thanks for creating space where I can info dump and I hope I said something of interest to you!

i think you wrote more than me!! i love this, im gonna put my response under a cut im not being super obnoxious on the dash.

i get that the mayfly stage would be not as visually stimulating for people and usually i would count myself in with that crowd because i love a good spectacle but i think because i watched the spark stage first and my colour perception is sometimes weird so when there's a lot of movement with very little colour variation my tiny pea brain loses track of whats happening really quickly. especially with red. so it was kind of difficult for me to pay attention to the spark stage in the second half. also i absolutely HATE watching people flub on stage because it brings up such visceral secondhand feelings that i couldn't even watch the stage when i started the full episode today.

i love a good suit but you know what i would also love: sf9 in more costume variations. tbh im just getting nitpicky about it because im a costume designer down to the core and i got trained by a designer who specialized in doing avant garde costuming so i tend to skew more towards wild than reserved. it looks like the move stage wont be be suits so ill take it, but oh man to do i want to see some really crazy stuff. which i know they'll never do because idols have to be pretty at all times or the fans get mad but oh i want it so badly.

do you mean how i would improve ikon's backup dancers outfits or lisa's? here why dont i do both. for lisa's dancers i would have just done away with that harness shape all together, its almost exclusively a military style. the jackets by themselves would have been fine but really what they should have done was put them in something that matched the gold but contrasted enough to give them shape. by having at least her dancers in all black on a gold stage there was a lot of "haha look at me do a duck walk because lets throw in some voguing for spice." they could have gone with a mesh bodysuit idea similar to what she was wearing or even just different colour coats. as for ikon's backup dancers, firstly pants. not black. or even a longer skirt. genuinely a part of the reason why i dont watch girl group content is because i HATE the hem length of the shorts they make everyone wear. words cannot describe how much i hate that cut. kpop is so obsessed with showing off women's bodies and especially their legs but they do it in the LEAST flattering way possible because it "can't be too risqué," just shoot me now. i hate it. i hate it so fucking much. yea yea everybody was on cocaine in the 80s whatever but at least they were all wearing french cut bodysuits so their legs looked fantastic. stop interrupting the lines!! anyways. pants so the only section of skin showing is thigh to mid calf, especially because they weren't even doing any fun legwork! if they really wanted to keep the full sleeve bodysuits they shout have done them in a fabric with a texture or external embellishments, like a patent/vinyl or sequins/rhinestones. something to catch the stage lights so we can actually see the shape of the limb. but the easiest way to fix it is literally just cut the arms off the bodysuits. stages are lit to show off skin, sometimes the best way to have something be seen is just to have it bare.

i agreed skz cycles through ideas way too fast, they need to just pick a couple and stick them out through the stage instead of just adding more and more different ones throughout. also ok good someone else noticed that there is just...so much changbin. we don't need that much changbin. i know there's other boys in the group let them do something! also im pretty sure theyre not recreating the cat knife meme but actually the promo image from john wick chapter two, which i also could have sworn i saw a deadpool version of as an instagram ad back when movies were happening, but now that im looking for it it doesn't exist so i might be crazy.

im excited for the move stage but im also trepidatious because...its move. i have NO clue what the concept is from the previews so i just hope its weird enough to take it enough out of the taemin context for me to enjoy it.

#kingdom #youre very sweet im glad you like sending asks in!!#realistically im just trying to replace going out to the pub and talking about art with people #this is my virtual pub you are welcome to a have a pint at my table!!#theres some costume talk in this one for anyone who reads the tags first #as you can see do not get me started on the shorts issue because it is one of the few things that gets me irrationally angry #i can ignore it most of the time by willfully not thinking about it #kpop questions #text #kingdom asks

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ambereyesandwine · 5 years ago

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We’ve Got Soul: Chapter 3

WC: 2450

Warnings: Sass, cursing, ya know, the usual

Beta’d By: @teaspacebar

Notes: This chapter is mostly relationship building between Fantasia and the boys, and to show the change in their relationships in the year-ish since the last chapter.

Chapter 3:

October 8, 2037

8:04 A.M.

“Hey,” Fantasia called out around the hair-tie bit between her teeth. “Gavin, get up.” She shoved his shoulder before putting her hair up the rest of the way.

“Nooo,” He groaned.

“Seriously, you have to go to work today.”

“I shouldn’t have to, it’s my birthday.”

“Yesterday was your birthday, today is Thursday. Get up.”

Gavin propped himself up on his elbows so he could face her. “What time is it?”

“Eight. I let you sleep for as long as I could before I came in to get you, but I have to go, and you need to leave for work soon.” She was walking around Gavin’s apartment, finishing putting herself together as she spoke. “My blanket is folded on the couch, and I made you breakfast, it’s in the fridge. Take a shower before you go, you stink.”

“You’re an asshole.” He called through his bedroom door.

She grabbed her keys, “That’s what friends are for, I’ll see you later!” And the door was shut behind her. Fantasia boarded the next bus to get to Carl’s and rang the doorbell right on time.

Markus answered the door, “Good morning Fantasia.”

A smile plastered across her face. “Good morning,” Fantasia said as she walked through the house to the studio. When she entered the room, Carl turned in his chair to face her.

“You’re late.”

“I am not,” She dropped her bag under the desk by the door, “You just get bored when I’m not here.”

“I’m an artist, I’m never bored.”

“I’m an artist and I get bored regularly.”

Carl chuckled lightly, “That’d be why you’re an apprentice with lots of work still to do. Today you’re working on texture. You get one color, and you’re going to tell me a story with just the paint thickness and brush stroke.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Have fun.” Carl left the studio without another word.

For a few moments, Fantasia just stood in front of the canvas with a blank stare. “How the hell am I supposed to do this?” She quirked her head a little. “What if I…” Fantasia collected a palette and the paint she’d need to make her color and got started. It was almost three hours later that Carl re-entered the studio to find her standing in front of a dull blue canvas with no visible concept, other failed attempts scattered on the floor.

As Fantasia continued to add paint to the piece as she spoke, “I’m almost done.”

“There’s nothing there. I told you to make a story, not a mess on a canvas.”

“Just give me a minute.” Fantasia looked over her project one more time before turning to face Carl. “It’s done.”

Carl sighed. “My dear, I sincerely hope you are about to surprise me.”

“Don’t I always?” Fantasia turned on the lamp she had set up to shine over the painting from the upper-right corner of the canvas. The shadows cast by the ridges in the paint formed a city block, crowded with silhouettes.

Carl nodded. “Pleasantly surprised, indeed. It’s an interesting idea to use the light, I may have to use that at some point.”

“Thank you,” Fantasia’s smile grew as she looked between Carl and her painting.

“I figured this would take you a larger portion of the day. You’re more than welcome to stay if you’d like to continue working.” Carl wheeled over to his lift and continued a large piece he had in progress.

Fantasia grabbed her bag and found a place to sit on a table across the studio from Carl’s lift. She sat cross-legged and hunched over her sketchbook as she drew her mentor at work.

Markus entered the room and approached Fantasia. “What are you drawing?”

“Carl,” Fantasia replied lightly and showed Markus the page. “It’s fun to draw him when he’s too busy with other things to stop me.”

“I can still hear you.”

“But you won’t stop me cause you’re already in the lift.” Upon receiving no reply, Fantasia continued to sketch.

“Do you need anything while I’m here?” Markus asked politely.

“Just your company, if you have some time.” Fantasia looked up from her work to smile at him.

Markus smiled back. “Of course.”

Fantasia scooted over and moved her bag to the floor to make room for him. She patted the newly opened space, which Markus gladly filled. When he was seated on the table comfortably, Markus switched between watching Fantasia draw and watching Carl paint, almost as though he was studying.

“What do you think?” Fantasia tilted her sketchbook Markus’s way to show him her semi-finished drawing.

“I think it’s very life-like.”

She hummed, “Mm, an easy answer. I’ll get an opinion out of you one day.”

“Were you looking for another response?” Markus questioned lightly.

A small huff left Fantasia’s chest. “No, Markus. It’s okay.” She smiled at him. “I think I’m gonna get some lunch. Carl?” She called across the studio, “I’m gonna make lunch, do you want anything?”

Carl continued to paint as he replied, “No, I’m fine, help yourself.”

“Awesome,” Fantasia hopped off the table and held her hand out toward Markus. “Do you want to come?”

“If you’d like.” Markus took Fantasia’s hand and neatly slid off the table before following her into the kitchen.

When Fantasia got to the kitchen, she immediately turned to Markus and asked, “What do you think Carl would like to eat?”

“He said he didn’t want anything.”

“Yes,” she huffed, “But he always says he doesn’t want anything and then as soon as I bring food into the studio, he asks you to make him something. I’m just trying to take out the middle step.”

“He does seem to have a pattern.” Markus replied. “What about a salad?”

“That sounds great, Carl could use some vegetables in his life.” Fantasia went to the fridge and collected lettuce, peppers, a cucumber, and some other vegetables. “Do you have any chicken breast?”

“Yes, second shelf from the top.”

“Awesome,” Fantasia grabbed the package and handed it to Markus. “Will you cook a couple up while I cut veggies?”

“Of course.”

The two had lunch put together in 20 minutes, and Fantasia put it out on the table while Markus went to collect Carl.

“I said I wasn’t hungry,” He said, rolling up to the table. “But that does smell pretty good.”

Fantasia smiled. “I figured you’d say that, that’s why we made enough for two to begin with. Here.” She placed his salad in front of him on the table.

“Aww,” Carl said with disdain. “I smelled chicken, I thought it was all chicken. This is not real person food, it’s for herbivores.”

“Good thing you’re an omnivore and can eat both.” Fantasia picked up her utensils and stared at Carl from across the table. “Eat.”

October 13, 2037

12:27 P.M.

As Fantasia walked into the station, she was greeted by the call of her name.

“Tasia!” Gavin jogged over to her and snatched the paper bag from her hands and kissed her on the cheek before plopping down at his desk. “Finally, I’m starving.”

She sat down in her usual chair. “You’re super affectionate today, are you dying?” Fantasia said it between bites of fries.

“Fuck you, I’m in a good mood.”

She nodded, “Ah, there you are. What’s up?”

“I made a big arrest today, for your information,” He laced the second half of his statement with attitude. “We’ve been looking for this guy for months,” Gavin continued to talk around mouthfuls of food, “And I got him today, cause I’m the fucking best.”

“Uh huh.” Fantasia gestured with sarcastic curiosity, “So were you the only police officer at the scene, or did you have other people there?”

“There were others.”

“Uh huh, and did you do all the work by yourself while they just stood around, or were they all involved?”

Gavin narrowed his eyes. “The second one…”

“Uh huh, so did Gavin Reed get him or did the DPD get him. Together.”

The pleasant expression on Gavin’s face melted. “You’re a soul-sucking terrorist. You know that?”

“Chris, I fixed him!” Fantasia called out across the station.

“Thank you!” Came back from the general direction of the break room.

Gavin’s eyes went wide, “What was that?”

Fantasia replied nonchalantly, “Chris texted me while I was on my way over. He said you were being scary. I fixed it.”

“I hate you.”

“I am the only person you don’t genuinely despise on some level or another, and I brought you food, so you have to be nice to me.”

He grumbled to himself and silently ate his food with his normal, grumpy disposition until Fantasia got out her sketchbook.

“What are you drawing.”

“You’re talking with your mouth full, and it’s disgusting.”

“Sorry m’lady.” Gavin dramatically attempted to swallow the entire mouthful of food and almost choked before trying to pretend nothing happened and asked again, “What’re you drawing.”

She looked at him, perplexed. “Do you regret that? Do you regret what you just did, or do you stand by that?”

“Yes.” His voice was strained as he coughed and reached for his drink.

Fantasia nodded slowly with an affirmative hum before answering Gavin’s question. “I’m drawing you with a smile on your face. It’s so rare, I figured I’d capture it forever. Ya know, ‘make a picture, it’ll last longer’ and all that.”

“That is not how the saying goes.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?”

“Ouch, the Clever Comeback Queen has struck again, let’s hear it folks.”

Fantasia rolled her eyes. “What else do you have going on today?”

“Paperwork.”

“Ah yes, saving the world and filling out paperwork. Real heroes don’t wear capes, they wear dirty leather jackets and listen to shitty music.”

“Hey,” Gavin pointed accusingly at her, “You stay off my music. Carry on My Wayward Son is a classic.”

She scoffed, “Yeah maybe, but its but its older than Hank and you act like it’s the last good song ever released.”

“Cause it is.”

“No. Look me in the eyes,” She pointed at her own face with two fingers. “I listen to you blast all kinds of terrible music from when you were in middle school and high school that is way different than Kansas, and I am willing to put money down that the only reason you’ve ever even heard of that song is cause of that show you used to watch cause you thought it would make you cool.”

Gavin’s face crunched, trying to formulate a response, but he caved, “I got nothin.”

“Yeah.”

“You free this weekend, or do you have super special painting practice?”

“I’m free, I think,” Fantasia stated as she started cleaning up their lunch. “Carl has some fancy charity auction thingy that I’m not allowed to go to.” She shrugged.

“Why not?”

“Oh, ya know, big names only, they have a reputation to keep up.”

“So, you’re not even allowed to go?”

“Nope.”

“That’s dumb.”

“Agreed. You wanna go out instead?”

“Depends,” Gavin considered.

“On?”

“Are you gonna be pissy the whole time about how you didn’t get to go to the auction thing?”

“What? No. It’s literally a bunch of old dudes in a room talking about ‘strokes’ all night and pretending they aren’t talking about their dicks. I am totally fine not being the only female in that room.”

“Awesome, then I’ll see you later? I gotta get back to work.” Gavin gestured widely to his mostly empty desk.

“Yeah, you have fun with all that. I’ll shoot you a text when I pick a place.”

“It better not be some shitty line-dancing bar again.” He called out as Fantasia started to walk away.

“If you actually cared you wouldn’t make me choose every time.” She shot finger guns at him before she turned to leave.

November 2, 2037

6:09 P.M.

“So, dad, what’s for dinner?” Leo walked into the dining room where Fantasia and Markus were serving dinner.

Fantasia’s smile dropped as soon as she saw Leo’s face.

“Oh, hey Tay, wasn’t expecting to see you here. Are you on the menu tonight?”

The resulting scowl and glare that Fantasia produced could have pierced most people’s skin, but Leo didn’t back down. “Nobody calls me Tay,” She seethed.

“Exactly! So, I’m unique!” He smiled a shit-eating grin.

“So, you can call me Fantasia. Nothing else.”

“Oh ouch,” He turned to Markus, “That bitch is almost as cold as your insides tonight, huh?”

“Leo,” Carl interrupted, “That’s enough. What do you want?”

“Well food for starters, if you’re offering.”

Carl made no gesture to offer the things his son demanded. “Why did you come here, Leo?”

“What, I can’t just come over to hang out with my pops?”

“You never have before,” Fantasia spat.

Leo turned on her, “I’m sorry, who were you again? This is my dad, not yours, little orphan girl.”

“I said enough,” Carl restated sternly. “No more games, Leo. Why are you here?”

“I need money.”

Carl looked confused, “I thought you said you got a job.”

“Yeah, well it fell through and now I need money for rent.”

“What do you mean it ‘fell through?’”

“They found out about the ice, does it matter?” Leo’s agitation covered his face.

A sigh left Carl’s chest, “How much do you need?”

“A thousand dollars.”

“Fine.”

“Thanks, dad, I knew I could count on you.” Leo made a pointed glance toward Fantasia before he spoke again. “I’m glad the help is keeping you good company while I’m away.”

“I’m not-” Fantasia started but dropped it when she saw Carl’s face. He was already upset, and she didn’t want to make it worse for him.

“Was that all you needed?” Carl asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Leo started back out toward the door. “I can’t stick around. I got places to be.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll see you around pops,” Were Leo’s last words before the door closed behind him.

Fantasia immediately turned to Carl and asked, “Are you okay?”

He took a deep breath before replying, “I’m fine. What did you two make for dinner?” The smile on his face was forced.

Markus chimed in, “Alfredo that Fantasia insisted we ‘wing.’”

“I just didn’t want it to be something from a cookbook you have memorized! I wanted it to be fun!”

Markus smiled. “It was fun.”

“Then the mission was accomplished, can I eat now?” Carl reached for his plate.

“Yeah, sorry.” Fantasia set the table the rest of the way and sat down across from Carl to dig into her food.

The two ate in relative quiet with only the sounds of the dishes being washed as background noise.

#Markus x oc #dbh #Detroit Become Human #Markus #Gavin Reed #Dbh Markus #Dbh Gavin #Detroid Become Human #RK200 #Gavin reed x oc #We've Got Soul

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cryptidkieren · 5 years ago

Text

come around (1/6)

ayy waddup its ya boy back at it again with good omens fic

i wrote literally the entire outline and the first couple chapters before my power randomly went out????? so i had to start from scratch rip

heres the ao3 link if you want it :)

edit: so i adjusted the tags a bit and it completely erased the body of the post???? i love being on tungle.com :)

-----

It first began, as these things were wont to do, on a quiet winter morning. This one happened to be in Aziraphale’s bookshop.

The angel had been enjoying his morning, flipping the sign on the door to ‘Open!’ somewhere around 10. The warm light of his gas lamps combined with the smell of old books still put him at ease, even after all these years. Snow was falling softly outside, muffling the chaotic noise of London a bit and bringing with it that impatient sense of the incoming holidays that December promised. He still hadn’t heard anything from the Head Office, not since Adam Young ordered both Heaven and Hell to leave them alone over 6 months before.

Aziraphale blinked in surprise, tea cup resting against his bottom lip.

There stood Crowley, wrapped in too many layers to be comfortable, snow and malice swirling around his feet as he clomped- yes, clomped into the shop. The heavy black boots he wore were packed with already melting snow, making small puddles on the hardwood under him.

“Do shut the door, Crowley, or are you trying to heat all of London?” Aziraphale set his cup back down on the tray beside him, lips twitching as he tried to fight off a grin.

“Anything to end this bloody weather, angel!” The demon waved a gloved hand carelessly at the heavy door, forcing it to close if it knew what was good for it. “I am sick to death of the cold! I might actually be sick! Can demons even get sick? If not, then I am definitely one of a kind!”

Aziraphale chuckled as he got up from his comfortable spot, allowing Crowley to rant and shuck his numerous layers onto the floor. “I swear, you get more prickly every winter, my dear.” The angel snapped his fingers and the scattered outerwear was miraculous hung up on the coat peg by the door.

Crowley glared at him, his dark shades slightly fogged and fiery hair a right state from his designer beanie. “I swear this is my punishment from the bust Armageddon. God is torturing me with this cold front, knowing I’m going to freeze my bollocks off and die!”

The angel snorted, cheeks heating slightly, and covered his mouth. How dramatic. He stepped up to unwind the crimson knit scarf hanging around the demon’s neck. “It’s only the first snowfall of the year, dear. I have no idea why you don’t retire to the south during winter at this point, to be honest. Greece is wonderful this time of year, and I know how you love to make fun of tourists at the Parthenon.” Aziraphale smiled at him, turning to hook the scarf on the coat peg with the demon’s jacket.

It was quiet for a moment. Aziraphale turned back to the other, an eyebrow raised in question. He willed it back down to a normal elevation; he had been spending too much time with Crowley.

The demon in question just stared at him, lips pursed and brows drawn behind his glasses. “You haven’t left your bookshop for that long since you opened it.”

“Um,” Aziraphale blinked, quite confused with the sudden topic change. “I-I suppose that’s true. How is it relevant, though?”

The angel could only as Crowley opened his mouth, paused, and let out a rush of air as he raked a hand through his already messy hair, turning to look out the frosted window. “I guess it isn’t.” He seemed… Dejected?

Oh!

“Crowley-”

Something in Aziraphale’s voice must have caught his attention, for he whipped back around to stare at the other, back ramrod straight and shoulders tight. He looked like he was ready for a fight.

It broke the angel’s heart.

“Crowley, darling,” he said, catching the way the occult being twitched at the endearment. He frowned, not wanting to make his friend uncomfortable. “I-I mean, my boy, this isn’t like Alpha Centauri. If you wanted to go on holiday during the winter, you can always ask. I could never imagine having a problem following you across the world.”

Aziraphale caught up with his own words only moments after they escaped, causing his face to flame and panic to set his heart racing. After 6,000 years, he finally let the cat out of the bag and now Crowley was going to hate him or be disgusted by him or quietly pretend it hadn’t happened and he didn’t know which one would be worse-

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as he watched Crowley open his mouth, obviously about to deliver Aziraphale’s death sentence, when the bell above the door rang out and broke the moment.

They both turned to watch as an elderly woman hobbled in from the cold, snow melting in her silver curly hair. Her lilac colored coat was promptly hung up next to one of Crowley’s, standing out against the all the black. She looked around for a moment, leaning a bit on her wooden cane, before spotting them and smiling politely.

“Good morning, gentlemen! Are one of you the proprietor of this shop?”

“Ah,” Aziraphale choked, clearing his throat slightly as he took a step away from the demon. He valiantly swallowed his terror and slapped on his customer service smile. “That would be me, madam. How may I help you?”

“Oh, I was looking for a book,” she said, hobbling over to him on her cane. Crowley politely moved away from them, towards the counter with the old fashioned register that was barely used.

“Obviously,” the demon muttered, though not very quietly.

The customer narrowed her eyes in his direction, as if she were thinking of hitting him with her cane.

“What kind of book?” Aziraphale jumped in. After all, he didn’t want violence to break out in his shop. He had a feeling Crowley wouldn’t come away unscathed.

The woman turned to him again, making the demon let out a breath audible from across the room. She smirked. “It’s an old book, of course. My great grandmother used to read it to me when I was little, and I wanted to start that tradition up with my newborn grandson.”

The angel smiled warmly, feeling the love pouring out of the elderly woman. One of the perks to being an angel was the ability to feel good things everywhere, like love, which this woman seemed to have an abundance of. “Of course, madam. Would you happen to have the title or the author?”

Here, the woman sighed mournfully. “‘Fraid not, dearie. My memory isn’t what it used to be. I can remember bits and pieces, though, would that help?”

Even a demon couldn’t say no to her hopeful, pleading face. Good thing he wasn’t, as the angel jumped at the chance to help.

“Worth a shot, right?” Aziraphale smiled widely, ushering her over to his chair with the untouched tea service. A little twitch of his fingers and the pot was steaming once more. He sat on the small floor pouf decorated with little bow ties tucked under the chair, something Crowley once got him as a gag gift. “Please, make yourself comfortable and tell me what you remember.”

He listened as the elderly woman described her book and sipped her tea, smiling as he made notes on a little notepad from his pocket. He admired the woman’s dedication to details, such as the texture of the pages and the style of the front cover.

Of course, he also noticed how Crowley leaned against the counter behind her, watching them with his chin in his hand. His eyes were unreadable behind his spectacles, but the small smile on his lips was easier to define.

Aziraphale ducked his head again, hiding his own smile.

When the woman finished her description, the angel straightened up and checked his notes. It sounded familiar enough…

“Oh!” he grinned, swiftly rising from his own seat before helping the old woman to her feet. “I think I know where that is!”

His enthusiasm was contagious, apparently, as even Crowley grinned and moved out of the way when the angel came bustling around the counter. He headed towards a case in the North wing, already picturing where the novel would be housed.

Aziraphale grinned as he looked up at the top shelf of the case. There it was, sitting amongst its brethren, just as he thought it would be! As he reached up, he immediately encountered a problem: it was inches out of reach.

The angel frowned, straining and stretching his arm, trying to make up the distance. He contemplated performing a miracle to get it down, but the woman was watching him with barely contained amusement.

He dropped back to his heels, toes and side aching a bit, as he stared up at the offending novel. The angel heard a huff of laughter behind him before a darkly clad arm suddenly invaded his eyesight. “Honestly, angel, I’m going to buy you a step ladder one of these days.”

The heavy book was dropped into Aziraphale’s hands. He blinked at it for a moment before his felt his entire face grow warm. Wrinkling his nose at the smirking demon, he thanked him primly before turning back to his customer.

Before he could even start, the woman chuckled, deepening her wrinkles. “My wife used to do things like that for me too, bless her soul.” Her bittersweet expression only touched on the sudden feeling of melancholic love she pushed out from her soul, causing Aziraphale’s breath to stutter in his lungs.

It also didn’t help that her insinuation made his cooling face reignite with embarrassment.

“Oh! He’s not- We’re not- I mean-”

Crowley fled then, heading towards the back room with bright red ears . Aziraphale caught a glimpse of his hand over his mouth before he disappeared and the angel felt his stomach drop out.

Oh. Alright. Disgust was the answer to that question, then.

“Don’t worry, love,” Aziraphale’s quiet breakdown was interrupted by the elderly woman, whom he had quite forgotten about as his heart was breaking. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Your young man seems to love you very much.”

The angel smiled tightly at the woman, feeling his face flush further against his will. He quickly brought the book to the register, intent on getting her out as soon as possible. As he was writing out the necessary information for his records, the older woman placed a hand on his own, effectively capturing his attention.

“Listen, my dear, if you two really aren't together, then you're both blind.” The woman raised an eyebrow at the angel, a kind smile on her lips. “It’s obvious to just about anyone with eyes that you love each other, and time isn't forever. If I could go back and be with my wife sooner, I would, because there was already so much wasted time before we both had to buck up and have a little faith.”

She patted his hand, then, grinning mischievously. Hers was dark and soft against his own, heavily lined though he had lived so much longer than her. “Have courage, my dear. As the kids say, you only live once.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Aziraphale bit his lip, ducking his head as the customer withdrew her hand. He finished cashing her out (at an extraordinarily discounted price, to boot) and helped her back into her coat. As she left the shop, the bell ringing happily above her, the angel sighed deeply as his earlier panic reared its ugly head again. He would rather face all of Heaven alone than go find Crowley at that moment.

Aziraphale steeled himself and determinedly made his way to the back room. It was cramped, the space not really made for what he used it for, but it was comfortable. The small kitchenette shoved in the corner was rarely used, while the tattered sofa and threadbare armchair dominated most of the space.

Crowley himself was lounging on the sofa, a glass of something amber in his hands despite the early hour.

“What a lovely woman,” Aziraphale said with a smile and a shake of his head. He moved to the kitchenette, determined to make himself a cup of tea the human way to soothe his simmering anxiety.

“Sure, lovely, right,” he muttered, draining his glass in one go. The angel tutted reproachfully.

“Isn’t it a bit early for that, Crowley?” He sat in the armchair with a contented sigh, sipping delicately on his too hot tea.

He didn’t have to see the demon’s eyes to know he was rolling them. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, etcetera etcetera.” He then reached for the crystal bottle on the table between them to refill his glass.

It grew quiet then, Aziraphale occasionally sipping from his cup while Crowley stared into his as if it held answers he was searching for. The old clock on the wall ticked away, the only noise in the room.

The angel took the time to ponder on what the old woman said. ‘Have courage.’ He felt his heart ache something fierce, a well of yearning opening up in him. He wished he had courage.

But courage couldn’t make Crowley love him. His expression as he made a break for it earlier was proof enough of that.

His mounting inner turmoil was then interrupted by the being who caused it.

“Tempt you to a spot of lunch, angel?”

Aziraphale smiled at him, feeling brittle, as he set down his cup. “It’s barely gone half past ten, Crowley. They’re not serving lunch anywhere at the moment.”

The demon huffed, sitting forward to set his own glass down next to the angel’s. He looked at Aziraphale over his sunglasses, golden eyes sparkling in the lamp light, as a mischievous smirk settled on his face. “Brunch, then. I know how you adore those little pie things in that café in Athens.”

“Oh, their spinach and feta pites are to die for,” Aziraphale moaned, already craving the dish. A sudden choking noise made him turn back to the demon.

Crowley’s glasses had slid down his pointy nose, allowing him to stare openly at the angel. Two spots of color sat high on his cheeks. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

“Crowley? Are you alright, my dear?”

He seemed to snap out of whatever trance held him then, jerking back as he roughly pushed his dark glasses back up. The color on his cheeks seemed to be spreading.

“I’m fine, I’m good,” Crowley said roughly. He jumped up from the sofa then, giving the angel a start. “Race you to Greece!”

And he was gone, the bell at the front tinkling behind him.

Aziraphale shook his head with a small chuckle. He rose from his own seat at a more leisurely pace, snapping his fingers to clean the glasses and send them back to their cupboard.

“What a cheat.”

Then he chased after his demon, feeling content enough.

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[next chapter]

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