#I am trying to launch the gremlin that says everything I do needs to have monetary or societal value in to the sun
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Killing the cop in my head that says "You should be working on fiction people actually want to read, not this stupid, inane fanfic drivel you've been slaving over for months."
#gemma rambles#I am trying to launch the gremlin that says everything I do needs to have monetary or societal value in to the sun
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Ok so what if I made a list of things I started at some point in the past like five years or so and haven't finished but am still pretending I'll get back to them eventually? Maybe that would be interesting to literally no one but me, which is good enough.
The Witcher 3 is one of my favorite games ever. I'm like 90 hours into it, have at least twice that left to go, and I haven't touched it in like three years. Like most of the rest of this first section the main problem is that it's on my computer, and being able to sit comfortably in a way that doesn't injure myself while also being able to see the screen isn't going well these days.
Tales of Berseria is also a lot of fun, but it has the computer problem. I need more Magilou because she's such a gremlin.
Final Fantasy 13-2 is definitely my favorite post-12 FF game and might even be the one I've had the most fun with since 6, 7, and 8. Alas, computer.
BlazBlue Cross Tag Battle is a very silly crossover that feels like it shouldn't exist. I keep saying I'll go back and finish the rest of the storylines, but computer and also I just haven't had a strong desire to yet. I did figure out that I can win fights using an old Guitar Hero guitar though, so that was fun.
Berserk and the Band of the Hawk is something I started after finally getting caught up on the manga after years and years, because I tend to like Warriors/Musou games when I'm in the right mood. It's decent but not amazing, which hasn't motivated me to get past the computer issue.
Xenoblade Chronicles X is technically also a computer thing because I was playing it in Cemu. It gets extra bonus points for being hard to see because the text and UI are so small, but also I managed to break my save file like 70 hours in and haven't gotten around to figuring out what's wrong with it yet. Everything seems fine except my character and the camera get loaded in different locations, and I could probably use the memory editor to reset my location and fix it, but it's not worth the trouble until I can see.
Boyfriend Dungeon is great and I already finished the base game right when it came out, and I've been meaning to go back and do the post-launch stuff they added later and still haven't.
Atelier Ryza finally got good like half a dozen hours in after one of the worst-paced intros I've ever seen, and I haven't worked up the fortitude to try playing more past there so far.
A Slug's Dream has some decent puzzles and I was enjoying it enough, but I totally forgot it even existed. Maybe some day.
Xenogears I also keep forgetting because it's in an emulator on my computer and not somewhere I remember to look to see what game I should play. It sort of bypasses the usual computer problem by being ancient and designed for 480i screens so everything is huge. I'll finish it one of these days.
Ok I think that's all the stuff on the computer. There are a couple others that I'm not including because I only made it like an hour into them before getting sidetracked, so I'll just start them over if I ever go back to them.
3DS next? 3DS next.
Fire Emblem Fates is what's currently in there I think. It's taken multiple years, but I've finished Birthright and most of Conquest. Some day I'll finish that one and then maybe do Revelation. Any year now...
Shadows of Valentia might come back around too. I've had enough of a break to at least partly get over how mediocre a lot of the maps are and how annoying certain enemy types are, and I do want to at least try to finish it for the sake of the story, just not while I'm in the middle of pretending to play Fates too.
Shadow Dragon deserves another chance too when I'm in a better frame of mind for it, I just don't know when that'll be.
Radiant Historia is amazing and I really need to get back to it and finish it, and I don't know why my brain keeps not letting me for the past couple years. One of these days it will though, and it'll be great.
Kid Icarus: Uprising is also pretty great, but it's physically painful for me to play. I keep saying I want to try to figure out some way to work around that, but it's been multiple years and I still haven't.
Shovel Knight is one I completely forgot I even have, but it was way better than I expected and I should give it another chance.
Project X Zone is another ridiculous crossover that feels like it shouldn't exist, and it's pretty fun sometimes too, but wow does it really drag sometimes with how long each level is and how many of them there are. I might be able to manage it in smaller chunks though.
Ok Switch gets to be in a separate post or I'm going to run out of tags.
#the witcher 3#tales of berseria#final fantasy xiii-2#blazblue cross tag battle#berserk and the band of the hawk#xenoblade chronicles x#boyfriend dungeon#atelier ryza: ever darkness and the secret hideout#a slug's dream#xenogears#fire emblem fates#fire emblem echos: shadows of valentia#fire emblem: shadow dragon#radiant historia: perfect chronology#kid icarus: uprising#shovel knight#project x zone
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How fucking funny would it be if post-reunion, after everyone has settled down on The Revenge and accepted their weird found family, Izzy still pulled out the “I’m resigning, Ed!” speech every few months, like a kid marching down the end of their driveway to “run away forever, I’m definitely leaving this time, Dad!” Because he’s a supremely repressed gremlin of a man who doesn’t know how to receive validation unless he’s made a dramatic production of it via this intricate ritual. So everyone just accepts that on occasion Izzy will throw a hissy fit, passive aggressively pack up the dinghy, and Ed’s gotta go down there all, “Nooo, mate, we totally need you, don’t leave, what the fuck am I gonna do without my fearsome First Mate?🙄” Really laying it on thick so Izzy can soak up enough Toxically Approved Praise to survive another couple of weeks. Meanwhile, the crew is just watching this sad production, exchanging knowing glances. They’ve TRIED to be nice to Izzy—the whole mutiny thing was so last year, dude!—but outside of The Ritual he will straight up bite off anyone’s head who so much as tries to smile at him.
“Oh, you think I’ve got a flight or bite response? Mr. Hands earned his last name for a reason, laddie,” Buttons says while staring pointedly at Lucius’ finger. That’s obviously bullshit, but Buttons likes fucking with them on occasion. It’s great fun.
Stede’s place in The Ritual varies depending on everyone’s mood. Usually, he treats it like another fuckery production, making a big ta-do about how if Izzy really insists on leaving them—and wouldn't that be terrible? Simply terrible... right, everyone?—then he must take plenty of supplies with him and a bottle of the good brandy and this warm coat because it can get quite chilly at night, don’t you know? This allows Izzy to fly into a very cathartic rage about real pirates vs. gentry twats, leading to him oh so magnanimously deciding to stick around, if only to continue saving Ed from this dithering fool. Sometimes though Izzy has legit pissed Stede off, just like in the old days, and the crew has to run damage control to keep another duel from starting, Izzy having entirely forgotten his desire to leave under the allure of skewering Stede. That too is cathartic, but Ed tends to get tetchy when Stede stabs or is stabbed by anyone other than him.
Every once in a while Izzy will dig his heels in and actually launch the dinghy, heading towards… nothing, because we’re nowhere near land, you idiot, are we really doing this today? So the crew has got to drop everything else they’ve got going on and just… follow him. Izzy spends a couple hours angrily trying to out-row a top of the line ship while the others watch from the deck, occasionally yelling out corrections to his form: “Keep your shoulders steady—you’ll get farther away if you improve your posture.” “I know that!” They let him wear himself out and then tow him in for dinner.
One time Lucius and Pete are ~distracted~ while on the night watch and Izzy is actually able to slip away unnoticed. He's so pissed about it that he leaves in a true huff, that anger taking him all the way to the Republic. Two days later Buttons gets a seagull from Spanish Jackie basically saying that their wayward First Mate is stinking up her bar, you’d better pick him up before I kill a bitch. Ed and Stede arrive like fussy dads whose darling sent the playdate into turmoil; come along, Israel, that’s enough fun for one weekend.
Sometimes Jim is already hiding in the dinghy when Izzy tries to “escape” and the two of them spend a day talking shit, The Revenge floating nearby. Sometimes other pirates will find Izzy in random places and sternly steer him back towards the ship: “Do your parents Captains know you’re out here?” Once Izzy made the mistake of loading his get-away bag with half the strawberries put aside for a new cake and Roach very nearly took a limb in vengeance. Frenchie has a couple tunes that he only plays during The Ritual, to set the mood and all. Lucius has immortalized a number of the attempts in sketch form and slips them underneath Izzy’s door when he’s sure he’s not there to retaliate.
Years later, when all the crew have a lot more gray in their hair, Izzy flips them off and starts packing his things, same old, same old. Ed sidles up to Pete on the quarterdeck, sighing down at the display.
“Can you believe he’s still doing this?” he asks, shaking his head. “I thought he got it out of his system back on the Queen Anne.”
“Remember that time the rope broke and he lost us that dinghy?”
“Ha! I was ready to flog the bastard.”
And that’s how the crew learns that yes, Black Pete really did serve under Blackbeard holy shit.
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Wowy hii, saw that you're writing for slasher, so here I am!
Can I plz have some hcs about any slashers with s/o, but their s/o is a literal gremlin, like they're not serious at all, always joking and annoying people around, but sometimes might be quite soft and quiet.
Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️
This was fun to write lmao
Warnings: Sexual harassment, NSFW, murder, blood, canabilism
Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Stu Macher, Michal Myers
Slashers With An S/O That Never Takes Anything Seriously:
Thomas Hewitt:
Thomas is a little overwhelmed by your personality at first.
He’s a quiet and reserved man who’s never had any kind of friends, so goofiness and jokes can make him feel uneasy at first.
But!! He gets used to everything very quickly!!!
Thomas loves everything about you and he finds you to be incredibly charming.
He can get a little anxious when he sees you annoying Hoyt because he doesn’t want his uncle to do anything bad to you in irritation/retaliation.
Your jokes are always a stress reliever for him, since he spends most of his days in a dark basement, surrounded by blood and gore. Your humor just shines a little bit of light on his day, and he loves you for that!
While Luda Mae and Hoyt might not like the fact that you never take anything seriously, Thomas finds it relieving. At the beginning of your relationship, Thomas was terrified of losing you because he thought you would be terrified of all screams, murder, and cannabilism, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that you didn’t pay much mind to it.
Thomas’ family mostly saw you as a clown, but Thomas could only ever look at you as the brightest ray of sunshine that has ever graced his life.
After all, he was the only one that saw your softer side.
Your soft and quiet side mostly shone through during the evening. Something about the sunset and cicada chirping calmed your heart.
You would often take Thomas by the hand and lead him outside to sit on the front porch with you, so the two of you could cuddle and watch the sunset together.
Thomas was always so used to your voice, because you loved to talk about anything and everything, so your temporary quiet nature was new, yet comforting.
During these moments, there didn’t need to be any talking between the two of you. You deep emotional bond allowed you both to communicate through actions.
You would lay your head on Thomas shoulder, stroking his chest, and Thomas would wrap his big arms around your smaller frame, resting his masked cheek against the top of your head.
This was Thomas’ way of saying, “I love you, you’re the best thing in my life,” and your way of saying “I could never live without you.”
Bo Sinclair:
:|
You’re gonna annoy the fuck out of this boy
Sometimes you both wonder how the two of you even got together, but the nights you and Bo spent pleasuring each other, going round after round, reminded you both how. (Your both just sexy okay its that simple)
Bo was a serious guy, so he was a little miffed that he was always the one having to take the lead in everything since you just couldn’t stop making a joke out of everything.
Sometimes you would actually make him really irritated due to your tendency to irk people endlessly, so he would have to step away to cool off and blow off some steam.
Sometimes he would yell at you in anger, which always made him feel like shit after, so he tended to stalk off to his shop to calm down before speaking to you.
You would have to go see him a couple hours later to wrap your arms around him from behind and shyly apologize to him.
He favored these moments the most.
Your voice quieter than usual, focusing on just him, touching him gently.
He would always accept your apologies, of course, and would let you know by kissing your lips softly.
Bo liked to take advantage of your softer side by lifting you up by your waist and setting you on the hood of whatever car he had been working on and kissing down your neck.
As revenge, Bo liked to draw out his teasing as long as possible. Kissing down your neck, chest, stomach, massaging your pussy through your skirt, palming your breast roughly.
It gets to a point where you just have to tell him, “Bo, I need you to fuck me.”
And he would oblige.
He would take you right then and there, on the hood of the car.
The metal beneath you was always shockingly cold, making you shiver against Bo’s chest.
“You cold, Darlin,” Bo would ask teasingly as he pulled your panties off. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you right up.”
He would spend hours licking your pretty pink pussy if he could. He licks and sucks and kisses your most intimate part until you're shaking and crying above him, begging him to fuck you sensless.
After he’s satisfied with your helplessness, he’ll lean back up and ram himself inside of you. There have been many nights where he has taken you gently and slowly in his garage, holding your hand with every thrust, kissing your sweet lips to quiet your whimpers, but tonight was different. There was a primal need shared between you two. Bo wanted to let his frustrations on through loving you, and you wanted to be taken hard and fast.
When the two of you are done, you lounge around inside the car to catch your breath, holding hands. Everything seems so perfect.
Until-
“Hey, Bo? What did the toaster say to the slice of bread?”
“.....”
“I want you inside me! Eh ha ha..”
:////
Lester Sinclair:
!!!!!
You like constantly joking and never taking things seriously? He does too!!
Lester would find you absolutely hilarious. Every joke you cracked would have him doubling over in laughter. Which would make you double over in laughter. Which would make Lester laugh harder, because now you both have the giggles and both of your laughs are just too infectious.
Everytime the two of you would go to Ambrose to visit his brothers, you guys would annoy the hell out of Bo and Vincent. Bo just wants to be left alone to work in his shop but instead he’s stuck listening to you tell a 40 minutes story about how you burnt dinner last night.
And Vincent just wants to be left alone to paint and sculpt but instead he’s here listening to Lester crack jokes that are a.) not funny and b.) don’t make any sense. -_-
Your and Lester’s trailer is always filled with so much love and laughter and the two of you could not be any happier.
You both have your own soft and quiet moments that hit at random times.
Sometimes it happens when the two of you are play fighting in the living room, howling with laughter. You both fall to the floor, wrestling and giggling until the both of you run out of breath and just gaze at each other as you lay on the carpet.
“You look so cute,” he giggles.
“No, YOU look so cute!”
“W-well!!! I love you!!”
“Uhm...well...I love you MORE.”
And it just turns into an argument about who adores the other more.
Billy Lenz (1974):
The perfect couple.
Literally.
The two of you are always joking around, cackling and goofing about every little thing.
Billy has finally found his soulmate and he could not be happier.
He two of you prank the sorority girls together, making sex sounds in unison to sound even more vulgar.
Everytime you crack a joke, you get worried Billy is joking because of how hard he’s laughing.
“Umm Billy you okay? It wasn’t even that funny.”
“HA haha...piggy makes me laugh...Billy loves your jokes.”
Needless to say, your relationship is filled with smiles, laughter, and praise.
Billy will tell you you’re the funniest person he’s ever met and he wants to keep you forever.
You tell Billy you love how much he laughs at your antics and that you can’t live without him.
It’s impossible to annoy Billy. It’s just not feasible.
Any time you try, he’ll just giggle and pat your head, telling you you’re his ‘favorite piggy ever.’
He LOVES when you annoy the sorority girls thoug!
Hearing you moan and squeal and speak so sexily vulgarly to Barb and Jess makes Billy so proud. And horny.
Almost all of your sexual encounters are filled with complete silliness.
Sometimes, however, the joking and cackling subside. The two of you will just be chilling, nothing else to do, and you just feel the need to profess your love for your boyfriend.
“I love you so much Billy.”
Billy will look startled at your sudden outburst, before he breaks out in a huge grin, launching across the room to tackle you into a hug.
“Billy loves you too! Billy loves you more than anything!!!”
Now the rest of your day will be spent in Billy’s arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other.
Stu Macher:
Match made in Heaven!
Stu loves to joke around.
He hardly ever takes anything seriously.
He annoys everyone.
And once he meets you? It's love at first sight.
The two of you are always in detention because you guys just cannot shut up in class. You are always disrupting something.
But you know what that means!
Detention dates <3
As long as the two of you together, Stu couldn't care less about where he was.
He and Billy appreciate your habit of not taking anything seriously because once the murders start occuring, you don't think too much about it, never asking questions or arousing suspicion around your boyfriend and his bestie.
When Billy had told Stu his plan to kill Sydney, and asked him if he was going to kill you as well, Stu’s heart sank.
He remembers when he was dating Tatum, just a few months ago, before he broke up with her for you, he had no qualms about killing her,
But you?
He loved you. You were his other half. The one person who understood him, who accepted him. He could never hurt you.
“Nah dude. I’m leaving her out of this.”
That night, he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.
“Stu! (where the hell have you been loca) What’re you doing here?”
The sparkling smile you flash at him and the love swimming in your big, beautiful eyes makes him feel even guitler.
He feels bad that you’re dating a serial killer. He thinks you deserve better, but he would never let you go.
“Hey babe! I just missed you!”
You rushed over to him, dressed in kitty cat pajamas, and hugged him tight. He had only snuck through your bedroom window a couple of times before, and they had all been planned. Seeing him in your room as a surprise made your heart burst with happiness.
Stu led you to your bed and pulled you up onto his chest to cuddle you. It was late, and the both of you were tired. Stu just wanted to lay with you in silence, appreciating your presence.
You didn’t feel like releasing your usual high energy at the moment. Right now, you just wanted to fall asleep on your boyfriend’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.
Michael Myers:
Girl
Michael does not appreciate your antics.
Annoying him is easy, but you would never know that.
He keeps his emotions very private, so when he is annoyed he’ll just stalk away from you.
He does not think you’re funny :(
He does enjoy your quiet moments. He likes to come home when your energy is low.
He’s usually covered in blood when this happens, so you clean him up without cracking a joke which he appreciates.
You’ll turn on a movie for the both of you, and Michael lets you cuddle up with him.
He does like you, he just doesn’t want you to know that...
#frankie writes#frankiekatt#slashers#slashers x reader#slashers imagines#slashers x you#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt imagines#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas hewitt x you#texas chainsaw massacre#tcm#Bo sinclair#bo sinclair imagines#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x you#house of wax#lester sinclair#lester sinclair imagines#lester sinclair x reader#leaster sinclair x you#billy lenz#billy lenz imagines#billy lenz x reader#billy lenz x you#black christmas#black christmas 1974#scream#stu macher#stu macher imagines
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GF Fic: (Insert Time-Related Pun Here)
Having a birthday on the last day of summer was great when you were a kid.
When you were in college and vacation ended somewhere in the last third of August? Not so much.
“Grunkle Ford, I...I don’t think Mabel and I can make it to Gravity Falls,” Dipper confessed, the day before his twenty-second birthday.
“Is it the travel time?” Ford asked from the other end of the phone. “If your usual transportation is too slow, we can call in a favor or two for you kids—I know plenty of entities that would be happy to give you a lift as a birthday present—”
“No, I know, I know,” Dipper said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I really appreciate that, Grunkle Ford, I just...it’s not the travel, it’s being there. The other years we’ve been in college, our birthday was always on a weekend—last year was a Monday, but we spent that year with you guys instead of in school—”
“Thank goodness that seer tipped us off about her vision of 2020!” Ford agreed. “Taking a gap year to sail the Arctic with us was definitely the right decision for you two.”
“Right? Half a semester of online classes was more than enough. But—I mean, maybe it’s being back in school after being gone for a year, maybe it’s just early-semester problems, but...” Dipper sighed. “It’s just, I’m taking five classes, and I’ve got a TA job this year, and I’m getting back into the DD&MD group again and maybe planning to DM a oneshot as a Halloween event, and...” He sighed again. “It all looked much more manageable on my schedule. It was color-coded and everything!”
Grunkle Ford hummed noncommittally.
“Yeah, I know,” Dipper admitted. “Not the first time I’ve overbooked myself.”
“Not quite, perhaps. But it’s very good that you’re learning to recognize it and take steps to take care of yourself—when I was in college, I burned out routinely.”
“Mabel would sic the ‘Self-Care Fairy’ on me again if I didn’t learn.” The “Self-Care Fairy” was a truly terrifying onslaught of Mabelness, complete with costume and character voice, and would not go away until its subject had reached an acceptable level of well-being and had examined their mistakes. “Which is why...I have to cancel. If I came to Gravity Falls, even with instant travel, I’d only be able to get there around like 5:00 PM and I’d be stressed and anxious the whole time. And then I’d get back here exhausted and with no homework done and with class tomorrow, and...I just don’t think I can afford that.” Dipper paused, a knot twisting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry, I wish we could come...”
“Of course, Dipper, we know you do!” Grunkle Ford hastened to assure him. “Don’t feel sorry for us—of course we’d love to see you, but we just had the summer together. I’m just sorry you’re so short on time.” There was a moment’s silence.
“But how is Mabel doing? Is she facing the same challenges?”
“I mean, sort of.” Dipper smiled ruefully. “She kept trying to figure out some solution so that we could have our usual birthday and everything would work out, but...neither of us could come up with anything that would actually work. And she’s really busy too. She jumped back into school full steam ahead, and she’s got her Etsy store, and all her social groups to keep up with—you know she’s better at managing her energy than I am, but it’s still a lot.”
“I understand that,” Ford said. “You both do what you need to to keep up with your responsibilities, okay? We’re very proud of you both, you know.”
Dipper swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know, Grunkle Ford.”
“Well, then, I’ll let you go—I imagine you have plenty to do right now! We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, even if only by text.”
“Thank you, Grunkle Ford! Mabel and I are going to video-call at some point, we think, so there’s that. Say hi to Stan and Soos and Melody and the kids and everyone for me?”
“Of course, my boy. Have a good evening.”
“You too.”
The call disconnected, and Dipper sighed, throwing himself down on his bed. After a minute, he picked up his phone again and texted Mabel.
Just called Ford and canceled plans. He said to take care of ourselves and that he and Stan are proud of us.
Then he pushed himself into the homework for tomorrow until his phone buzzed.
Aww, of course he did. <3 Thanks for calling, brobro. I wish we could go, but you were right--I’ve got WAY too much booked. Why didn’t we check what weekday our birthday was FIRST???
Dipper snorted. Maybe we’re dumb :/
IMPOSSIBLE, Mabel sent back. Clearly an evil College Schedule Gremlin messed with our brains
Is that the same guy who makes it so you can never take the prereqs you need when you need them?
Yep!! And the one who fogs your brain so you THINK you’ve filled all your requirements until it’s too late to patch up the holes in your plan. His phone buzzed a second time after that text. ...Ugh, maybe there ARE gremlins in all the college systems
It would explain Blackboard, Dipper agreed with a frown. Huh, maybe they should look into that...
Anyway, though, u good for Zoom tomorrow?
Dipper huffed, reminded of the fact that they had no time for a paranormal investigation right now. Yeah, he typed, I can do an hour or so anytime after 5:30.
Cool, I will figure out a time and let you know!! Can’t wait to see your 22-year-old face!! :) Even if it sucks that we can’t party :(
Same, same. TTYL :)
Dipper tossed his phone aside again, shutting his eyes for a minute. It wasn’t just the party that had him down—though he would miss the bash that Gravity Falls usually threw on their birthday. It was...everything.
It was having a birthday without Mabel.
Oh, sure, they would talk, but they wouldn’t be in the same place. That was why, really, he’d hung onto their plans until the very last minute. He’d made it work on paper—taking an evening to travel to Gravity Falls, have a party, and be back in time for the next class—and it just felt wrong to admit defeat, to compromise on something this important. Their birthday meant the two of them celebrating together, having a good time, acknowledging that it was important.
This year wasn’t going to feel like a birthday at all, Dipper thought glumly.
But no, that was quitter talk. They were going to do their best anyway, because they were the Mystery Twins! Even if the situation was lame. Even if he was going to spend his time on the call with Mabel tomorrow doing homework and/or bursting with stress.
He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I always overfill my schedule?” he asked plaintively.
The ceiling didn’t answer.
---
Dipper dropped his backpack with a thud on his dorm room floor, hastily unzipping it and digging out his laptop. He was late—he’d left his thermos in his last classroom, and been halfway across campus before he realized and turned around to go get it. He blamed his sleep deprivation (a week in, and his body still hadn’t readjusted to the rhythm of morning classes).
Now, though, he could finally pull up Zoom. He plugged in his headphones as he waited for it to connect (stupid dorm wifi), and was rewarded with an ear-splitting squeal.
“Happy birthday, Dipper!”
He grinned at her beaming face. “Happy birthday, Mabel!”
“Did you get a birthday cupcake?” she demanded. “Or at least a birthday cookie?”
He grimaced. “I got ice cream at the cafeteria, but I had to eat it there,” he confessed. “Here, I’ve got...a birthday candy bar?”
“Hmph.” Mabel looked crestfallen, but plastered a smile on anyway. “It’ll have to do! We can sing Happy Birthday, anyway. One, two, thr—”
Before they could launch into an inevitably out-of-sync rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Dipper heard a loud knock. Judging by Mabel’s startled turn towards her door, she heard it too—
Wait, what?
The knocking repeated. On both their doors.
“..Huh,” Mabel said thoughtfully. With a wordless glance between them, they both unplugged their headphones and went to their respective doors.
“Happy birthday, slugger!” Stan said, grinning, the instant he saw Dipper. Over the internet, Ford’s voice was greeting Mabel at the same time.
Dipper’s jaw dropped.
“Ha!” Grunkle Stan shoved past him into the room. Waving to the camera, he added, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”
Ford peered past Mabel into the screen. “Happy birthday, Dipper, my boy!”
“But—what—”
“Grunkles!” Mabel cried. “...But wait, why not just video call us? Not that we’re not happy to see your wrinkly faces, but you came such a long way!”
“Yeah, exactly,” Dipper said, waving his arm in confusion. “You guys—you know we can’t really visit, right? Even with you with us? We don’t have time. I dont want you guys to waste a trip—”
“But we didn’t,” Ford said smugly. “We came to bring your birthday presents.”
With a flourish, Stan produced something and handed it to Dipper. It looked like...a piggy bank, but with a clock face set into the side?
Mabel gasped. “It’s so CUTE!”
“But what is it, Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked.
“Simply put, my boy...it’s time.”
“It’s a Time-Savings Bank,” Stan said proudly. “Got our hands on these babies a few months ago, on a little side trip. See, when you’ve got some extra time—like, at night, or when you’re waiting for a pot to boil, or whatever—you can use these gizmos to store it up instead! Then when you need more time, you use the clock to take it back out. Whammo! You squeeze in a few extra hours between the normal ones.”
“Like Daylight Saving Time without the false advertising,” Ford added. “We know you two are short on time right now, but...if you’d like, there’s enough in here to give you and everyone currently at the Mystery Shack a good few hours of spare time. What do you say, kids? Still up for a party?”
“Are we!” Mabel crowed.
Dipper stared at this miraculous device. “But...that’s a lot of hours,” he said. “Where did you get the time?”
Stan barked out a laugh. “You kiddin’, Dipper? We figured from the start that at least one of you would burn out when you went back to school. We’ve been putting time aside in these things for months.”
“...Really?” Dipper said. Somehow, he found himself blinking rapidly, and swallowing down some obstruction in his throat.
Stan coughed uncomfortably, looking away. “I mean, it’s not like we gave you any time we had a use for. Just some odds and ends here and there...every day... Anyway! You kids wanna get this show on the road?”
“YES!” Mabel shouted.
Dipper beamed. “Definitely,” he said. “Absolutely.”
And a few minutes later, when they all found themselves in the Shack (courtesy of one of those “favors” Ford had mentioned yesterday), and Dipper had piled into the inevitable group hug with his twin and his grunkles—and with hours of birthday celebration in front of them all—he had to add, “Best present ever.”
#did i neglect my college homework to write this? yes. yes i did#anyway#happy birthday dipper and mabel!#belated in my timezone but NOT ON THE WEST COAST so it WORKS#gravity falls#mystery twins#dipper pines#mabel pines#pines family#my fic#i did not proofread this At All so...there may be glaring errors#i'll find out later
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Gale Reviews: ML season 4 episode 12 Crocoduel
(Spoilers below)
-So Kitty Section is playing. I gotta say... the outfits do not look as good as they did in the dark. I cant take them seriously with the little cat gesture. Im chuckling
-Oh look Zoe is there.
-That JULROSE HUG IS GOOD S***
-But Marinette isnt there for some reason.
-Luka thinks its his fault.
-Rose sweetie, I love you but no.
-Luka looks so sad... Okay no cap. This is kind of relatable. Look at them developing Luka.
-"I cant tell him Marinette is super embarrassed." Well yea, those outfits do not look good in the daylight. Except Ivans. THAT BOY IS STYLING
-Okay so Zoe being there is nice but it just reminds us that MARINETTE WAS FINE SEEING LUKA EARLIER! (Im sorry this plot hole really f***ing annoys me) (not gonna impact the score. Just need it to be known.
-So They plotting to have marinette and Luka talking again. by throwing Luka and Juleka a party. Cause their birthdays
-Out of context, them being happy adrien isnt there sounds REALLY bad.
-Juleka doesnt seemed sold on the idea...but JULROSE CHEEK KISS.
-Marinette Figured that out in like 20 seconds.
-"Luka loves me but I love Adrien!" just gonna memorize that line
-But Alya is right, they do need to talk
-Marinette does have a point tho. She doesnt want to hurt his feelings. You know, Marinette does care about his feelings and doesnt want to hurt him but she avoids actually talking with the person because she believes she is sparing their feelings.... HOLY S*** THE PARALLELS TO LADYNOIR.
-Marinette stealthed in a garbage can... HOW CAN PEOPLE HATE HER?!
-Marinette is putting a lot of unintentional pressure on Juleka.
-Okay so I really like this scene with Juleka and Luka. it is a good brother sister moment. Luka knows she was hiding something and cared to ask.
-JAGGED JUST SHOWED UP!
-And Jagged not noticing his daughter... dude not cool.
-And Anarke is here! Time for PARENTAL SMACK DOWN
-Jagged is not subtle
-Jagged dove out the window! The man is trying to be a decent dad now. So I will give him points for trying. and 3 points for that landing
-Poor juleka. She has so much pressure on her. And Luka looks so giddy. (or as giddy as his character model will allow)
-Juleka is standing there... the guilt... poor girl. Marinette why did you make her go through that.
-And the plan obviously backfired. SO LUKA IS GONNA GET TARGETED NUMBER 3!
-What akuma would he have he had anyway? I wonder if its like tear drops on my guitar
-Wow... Um that was touching. The group showing they care about Luka. That is sweet and prevents an akuma. NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO SALT ON THEM TODAY.
-Shadowmoth just like "They are teens.. SOMEONE WILL BE DEPRESSED"
-Now Shadowmoth focused on Juleka.
-Wait... doesnt Juleka have a charm at this point?! THE AKUMA WOULDNT HAVE WORKED? Yeesh the plotholes in this.
- Marinette comforted Juleka. It is still cute
- Jagged stone showing up to his kids party.
-Shadowmoth mothblocked twice.
-Everyone is shocked that Jagged stone is their dad. And Hawkmoth is going for attempt number 3
-AND FAILURE. Shadowmoth keeps getting dunked on. Even shadowmoth realizes it
-"Why do you think your dad loves luka more" Sees Dad give son gift and not to tell Juleka. NOT EVEN 10 SECONDS
-And Jagged proves he is an awful dad... And I got my hopes up.
-Shadowmoth you tried that already
-Marinette channeling her angry gremlin energy to yell at him. I love it
-plot twist HE ISNT A BAD DAD! The gift was for Juleka! And he was trying to be subtle. WELL PLAYED JAGGED. you escape my wrath for now. BUT SO HELP ME... I WILL BREAK YOUR FACE IF YOU MAKE HER CRY.
-Shadowmoth's consistent failure makes me laugh
-The album that caused their seperation? Oh damn
-Shadowmoth is like "FINALLY A DIVORCE!"
- Wait... the item broke as it was getting akumatized?! HOW DOES THAT WORK?!
-guitar villain vs CAPTAIN HARDROCK! AKUMA FIGHT! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. PLEASE DONT MAKE THIS BORING!?
-I love this already. Also Alya is acting to get a distraction.
-Ladybug arrives. And they are fighting...
-Adrien is make up first and safety second.... I love him so much
-Oh wow CANON is not nice to Ladybug. (thank you I will be here all week)
-CHIMNEY CHAN!
-Chat noir saving Ladybug... a nice change of pace.
-Ladybug doesnt even know she is already in love with him. (Ladynoir banter at its finest.)
-Chat noir... you have a jetpack power up.
-SKY FIGHT!!!!
- oH MAN THIS FIGHT Looks fun
-Shadowmoth is so done already.
-And ladybug learns the lesson of the day... Talk it out.
-Well that was suspect. (so help me if Luka figures it out...)
-JULEKA HERO DEBUT TIME!
-ROARR!
-I love the purple tiger. He really brings out the wild side
- The transformation is great. I love it
- Chat noir happy to meet another cat hero.
-THEY HAVE A SPACE POWER UP! WHY DID HE NEED TO LAUNCH THEM?!
-Oh.. that is interesting. It has to be put together for the akuma to come out. Interesting.
-Chat noir is clutch today.
-Thats where the tape comes in.
-OH HER POWER IS Collision?
-So its like... a Super punch? Neat.
-And now that it was all together it could be destroyed.
-They almost died in the air.
-So many people almost died.
-Oh neat two charms in one!
-Juleka spoke up! Oh no. I LOVE HER EVEN MORE NOW!
-And father daughter moment is cute.
-Now for Luka and Marinette finally talk.
-And they both agree to be friends
_____________________________________________________________
Overall 8 out of 10. (Not including the Plot holes. with plot holes included. 7 out of 10)
I will say this, Great episode for the Couffaine family. All of them got some Development. (well anarke was a bit lacking but still)
Juleka was MVP. And I am glad Marinette and Luka are friends.
It was cute and the fight wasnt boring. I think they could have done a bit more with it. But it was fine. The comedy was on point.
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Hope on Board
Chapter 7 – Polished, Public Appropriate First Date
Chapter 1 Chapter 6
“She will like whatever you do with her. She’s pretty easy going.” Tim advised plopping down on the couch next to an upside Stephanie, poking her in her exposed side and receiving a warning kick to the head as a result.
Dick gave Tim a cynical look and ran his hands through his hair. He groaned and ran to the mirror to fix his now messed up hair.
“No cologne tonight?” Stephanie asked sniffing the air.
“No. She asked if I would hold off on it for a few weeks until her stomach settles a bit more.” He turned to look at Tim. “And I want it to be special. I want her to feel special.” His anxiety apparent in his every fidget, hesitation, and tap of his foot.
“What, you don’t think making her feel constant nausea is special?” Stephanie asked with a smirk.
Dick threw his comb at her which she caught easily. “No, I think I have to make up for making her feel like that. She’s been miserable constantly. I want her to feel good.”
“You think stuffy and pretentious is the way to go if she’s feeling miserable?” Stephanie asked curiously, trying to cock her head closer to right side up in order to see him better.
“It’ll be something nice for her. This is going to work. She’s going to love it,” he said more to reassure himself than convince the others. “She’ll get to dress up. Get really nice food. Everything she needs to feel better.”
“She told you she’s been miserable?” Damian asked suspiciously. “Seems manipulative. If she’s even really feeling sick at all.” He batted away the pillow Stephanie threw at him without bothering to look up from his homework.
“She isn’t like that. And she’s pregnant you tiny gremlin, with your niece or nephew, if you remember.” Tim hissed. “And she doesn’t need to latch onto anyone. Give her ten years and she will be one of the leading names in fashion in the world. Why do you think I partnered with her in the first place? She doesn’t need Dick for money.”
“Enough. I’m not discussing this tonight,” Dick thundered, scowling at Damian. “She hasn’t said anything, but I can hear it in her voice whenever we talk and see it in her eyes whenever I see her. She keeps saying she’s fine and plasters on this fake smile, like she doesn’t want me to worry.”
Damian scoffed, but refrained from continuing. Tim spoke up instead. “She didn’t fake the vomit before our meeting earlier today… or after.”
Dick’s head whipped over to him. “She threw up in your office today? Twice?”
“In the bathroom, but yeah.” Tim nodded in confirmation. “I don’t think she expected Tam to see her or tell me about it. She threw up then went into our meeting like nothing was wrong. As soon as the meeting was over and I’d returned to the office she rushed to the bathroom and Tam said was just heaving that time.”
Steph nodded. “Probably didn’t have anything in her stomach to throw up anymore. Happens a lot. I don’t know if it makes it better or worse. They both really sucked. It all really sucked actually. The idea of eating made you unbelievably sick, but not eating made it worse.” She righted herself on the couch, throwing her legs over Tim’s lap and leaning against the arm rest. “And don’t even get me started on those bitches who don’t get any morning sickness.”
Dick hummed in consideration. His brow furrowed deeper the more he thought about it. He really didn’t want her hiding things from him, which admittedly was rather hypocritical of him, but if she was suffering, he wanted to know. “If it’s as bad as Tim says, maybe you should let her decide where you go instead. There’s probably food she can’t eat or makes her feel sicker than others and there may be something that her body is craving. And it may change from moment to moment. It did for me.”
Dick gave her a small, understanding smile. “Thanks, Steph. I’ll think about it. Now, wish me luck.” He shot them a nervous smile and left to pick up Marinette for their first date.
<><><><><>
“Are you sure you’re okay with this,” Marinette asked again.
Dick laughed and shook his head. “I told you, it’s fine. I like Batburger. This is great.”
“But you put so much effort into something nicer. And you definitely dressed for something more elegant,” she moaned.
He pulled her into a side hug as he guided her to a place to sit in the park. “I hate pretentious. I’d rather just hang around and have fun… I mean, unless you like fancy restaurants, then…”
Marinette cut him off with a laugh. “No. No, I don’t. I mean every once in a while is fun and I love the outfits at big events obviously, but I’d rather just do something where we can relax and have fun. Act like ourselves, not a polished, public appropriate version of ourselves.”
Dick smiled and motioned to a bench with a nice view of the park. She nodded and sat sideways on the bench so she could talk to him better. “You mean polished, public appropriate like cursing repeatedly at the host’s son at the biggest social event of the year?” He smirked at her.
Marinette groaned and hid her head in her hands. “Don’t remind me. I can’t believe I did that.”
Dick laughed and wrapped his arms around her to pull her into a comforting hug. “It’s fine. Very justified… considering.” Marinette made a noncommittal grunt and leaned into his chest, lowering her hands slightly. “But I agree,” he started slowly, “occasionally is nice, but relaxed is better. And galas especially are draining. They’re so boring and annoying. Maybe next time… we can go together?” he finished quietly. His heart was pounding in his chest as he asked. Was he being too forward? Was it too forward to ask the mother of your child to attend a family event? That wasn’t too forward, right? He didn’t want to scare her off on their first date.
Marinette looked up at him in surprise. “You…” She smiled at him for a few moments. She turned back to her food and pulled out her batburger. She looked back at him with a smirk. “Pretty confident this date’s going to go well, huh?”
Dick blinked a few times. He chuckled and gave her a charming smile, pulling his burger out as well. “I’m hopeful.”
Marinette looked at the burger before she took a bite and shook her head. “I can’t believe you have a restaurant themed after your heroes.”
“Vigilantes,” he corrected her.
“Vigilantes, right. Sorry. I’m not used to that. Paris and New York had heroes not vigilantes.” She moaned happily as she took a bite of her burger. “Oh my God. I don’t know if it’s just the pregnancy, but this is the best thing ever.”
Dick laughed and took a bite of his food. “That’s definitely the pregnancy.”
She hummed again as she rapidly ate her first small burger. “I don’t care. This is exactly what I needed.”
Dick watched her for a few moments before taking another bite himself. “So, how was your day today? I heard you had a meeting with Tim,” he asked in as casual tone as he could manage.
Marinette’s eyes lit up. She rapidly chewed the bite that was in her mouth before launching into a description. “It was great! We finalized the designs today, well as much as we can considering I’m just now seeing the fabrics they designed, which means I can start working on making the designs. Tim had some really great suggestions and now we’re starting to plan for the show for fashion week. Thankfully, a team at WE is handling all that so I can focus on the designs. I have more than enough time for the show, but I’ll need to have options in my store for people to buy once the show is over and that will take time.”
She took another quick bite of her second child sized burger and started bouncing in her seat. “I’m so excited to get my hands on the textiles. I’d only been briefed on what they were designed to do and felt samples before today. Next week I’ll get to actually work with them. Oh, and Tim introduced me to the man who did most of the designing for the textiles. That was amazing. I really liked speaking with him. I’m really looking forward to working with him more. He was so knowledgeable and had great suggestions and considered my suggestions. It was really enlightening for both of us, I think. He might go back and adjust his designs based on my suggestions. It felt like a really good understanding and respect. I was so nervous about signing the contract considering I am so new and I’ve never done… well anything, and WE is so huge. But I think this is going to be really great for both of us.”
Dick felt his chest tighten slightly. Not that he was jealous. And there was no reason to be. This was a work colleague. It was important that she had a good relationship with her colleagues in order to succeed and he wanted her time at WE to be enjoyable. But that did nothing to lessen the tightening in his chest. “So, who was the designer?” Was that nonchalant? That was totally nonchalant, right? He was cool. It was fine. The woman he liked and was carrying his baby was having enlightening, amazing conversations with another man. That was fine. Good even. That was ideal for her. He absolutely did not want to punch the enlightened, amazing man in his amazing, enlightened jaw.
“Lucius Fox. He’s the sweetest man and so smart. I don’t know how he thinks of all the things he does but it’s amazing to watch.”
Dick let out the breath he had been holding and gave her a beaming smile. “Yeah, Lucius is amazing. We all love him. He’s a close friend of the family.”
“I can see why.” She nodded taking another bite.
“Anything else happen?” he prompted casually.
She considered his question. “That’s pretty much everything. I can go into more detail on things if you want me to, but yeah, pretty much. How was your day? You never told me what you do.”
“Oh, I… do security with Bruce… in my own division.” He gave her a disarming smile. It was his standard lie, but for some reason it felt wrong to use it.
“You work at WE, too?” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Maybe I’ll bump into you next time! Or maybe we can get lunch together.”
“We can try. My hours are odd.” He winced internally. The lie was going to be harder to maintain if she was going to be there frequently. He looked up to continue deferring the possibility but got caught in her eyes. They were so bright and hopeful. He couldn’t let that fade away. He was sure she would understand, but he didn’t want her to have to. He could come into the building more often, make the lie more realistic. He smiled back at her. “But I can make sure I’m there for that. I can pick you up and take you to WE. I can walk you to Tim’s office and give you a kiss for good luck before you start your day.”
“That sounds like an incredibly lucky start to my day.” She snuggled closer to him and gazed up in his eyes.
“It will definitely make my day better. Anytime I see you, it makes my day better, happier,” he said earnestly, running his fingers up her arm.
She beamed at him. “Yeah?”
He looked lovingly in her eyes as he traced along her cheeks and jaw, resting his hand gently around her throat. “Yeah,” he whispered back.
She bit her lip and looked down, a blush settling on her cheeks. She suddenly swallowed heavily and threaded her fingers through his. She moved their hands to her lap with a reassuring squeeze. She breathed out slowly a few times before finally looking back up with a strained smile. Dick furrowed his brow. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She diverted her eyes and took a small bite of her burger.
He didn’t need to be a trained detective to read the signs she was giving out, the sudden shift from affectionate to slightly closed off. From leaning into his touch to leaning away from him. Her soft, warm smile turned tight and strained. Her breathing had turned labored. Her relaxed posture was rigid. He would think he had done something and she was uncomfortable but she was still squeezing his hand. “Marinette…” he urged her softly.
“Sorry,” she grumbled, looking down with a guilty look on her face.
“Morning sickness?” She nodded, still not looking him in the eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not going to last forever, just a few more weeks, and… I like you touching me. It’s just the pressure on my neck triggered a reflex. In a few weeks it’ll be fine and I don’t want you to think you should stop,” she explained, the blush on her cheeks now from embarrassment.
Dick smiled roguishly at her. “You like me touching you, huh?” Marinette rolled her eyes but her deep blush betrayed her pleasure at his comment. Dick brushed the bangs out of her eyes, and let his fingers linger in her hair, making sure not to put too much pressure on her. “Marinette, it’s okay to tell me the truth. I want to know. It isn’t a burden you’re laying on me by being honest. You aren’t just complaining. You’re telling me the truth. You’re letting me be part of this. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”
“Yes, of course,” she answered automatically.
“Then I want the truth. You’re not going to scare me off. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to be disappointed in you or the baby. I’m not going to get frustrated and pull away. I’m here for the whole messy, miserable, chaotic, amazing, miraculous process. I want to support you, both of you. So if you’re so sick you’re throwing up before and after meetings,” he gave her a pointed look. “I want to help. I can pick you up or bring you food or interrupt the meeting so it doesn’t go long.”
Marinette looked down guiltily and started fidgeting with her fingers. “Tim knew about that, huh?”
“Tim knows everything that goes on at WE,” he confirmed.
Marinette let out a long, deep sigh. “I didn’t want him to know.”
“Why not?”
“I… I can still do my job,” she insisted. “I don’t want special treatment because I’m carrying his niece or nephew. I want to get better and make sure this project is successful, not get coddled.”
Dick opened him mouth then shut it again. “Tim would go soft on you. So would Lucius,” Dick agreed. “But only if they thought you were doing your best. If they thought you were shirking or not putting your best effort in, they would let you know. But they aren’t going to push you into the hospital. They wouldn’t do that even if you weren’t pregnant. Okay?”
Marinette gave him an unconvinced smile but nodded. “Okay,” she agreed.
“Alright. So, how are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “Right now, pretty close to okay.”
“So… not good?”
“There is no good. There’s just less terrible. And this is just the first week of it. I’m scared I’m going to have to start taking medicine for it and I’d really prefer not to do that. They say it’s safe but… I don’t want to take anything unless I absolutely have to. Hey, do you think I can get another burger?” Dick smiled and started to pull out his second burger for her before Marinette put her hand on his arm to stop him. “Actually, ignore that.”
He shook his head at her again. “Marinette, you can have my burger if you want another one.”
She looked at him self-consciously. “I know. Thank you for that, but if I eat too much it’ll make me feel sick too. It’s better to maybe come back another time or get something small on the way home.”
Dick nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.” She nodded and reached into her bag, pulling out the last item in it. She giggled and held it up for Dick to see. “Hey, baby’s first toy!” He exclaimed excitedly.
She looked at him with soft eyes and nodded. “Baby’s first toy,” she repeated dreamily.
Dick reached out to rub her belly but stopped just short of touching her. “Is it… is it okay for me to…” he nodded toward his hand and her belly.
Marinette pointedly eyed his arm that were already wound around her waist, but his gaze was so earnest, her teasing comment died on her lips. “Yeah, yeah it’s okay,” she whispered softly instead.
He ran his hand over her belly reverently. This was his first time running his hand over the baby. Her belly was still flat, no external indication there was more developing beneath the surface. He could feel her lithe muscles through her shirt. But underneath the muscles was their baby. Their baby. Their baby was growing and developing. And then one day in no time at all the baby would be there, in his arms, looking at him, trusting him, needing him to protect it. And he would do anything he had to in order to make sure his child was safe.
He looked back up at Marinette with a warm smile. He tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She cupped his cheek and stretched up to kiss him.
She hummed contentedly as she pulled away and laid her head on his shoulder. He laid his head on hers and squeezed her again. Marinette picked up the figurine to get a better look at it. “It’s Nightwing!” She held up the small black and blue figurine for Dick to see.
Dick shook his head out of his stupor and sent her a sly smile. “Yeah, I remember you saying he’s your favorite.”
“Oh my God. I don’t even remember talking about him. How embarrassing was I?”
“How embarrassing do you get?”
She stuck her tongue out at him and shoved a few fries in her mouth. “Sorry can’t,” she motioned to her full mouth, “eating.”
Dick laughed and stole a fry from her. Marinette gasped in mock outrage. “You would steal a pregnant woman’s fries? I think I need to call Nightwing to take you away.” She winked at him.
“You’re right that was ungentlemanly of me. Here take my fries in reparation.” He pushed his fries over to her.
“I was kidding. I’m not going to steal half your dinner.”
“It just means you have more for me to steal.” He smirked at her as he reached over her and past his fries to steal a few more of her fries.
She giggled and took one of his fries. “Who’s your favorite?”
“Mine? Oh, um…” he had to think about that. “Wonder Girl, I guess.”
“Oh I didn’t know we could include heroes. That changes my answer. Why is she your favorite?” She turned back to her fries missing the pout that settled on Dick’s face.
“She’s got really good moves in battle. She uses just enough force, but not too much. Like she is more concerned about hurting anyone unnecessarily. But she’s really protective of her team and goes out of her way to help anyone who needs it. Or maybe I just have a thing for black haired, blue eyed, kickass women.” He smirked at her. He stared at her for a few moments and he knew he shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself. “But let’s go back. Who’s your favorite if you’re including heroes?”
“Chat Noir.”
“Wow no hesitation there at all. That… that hurts. I feel betrayed. And why is he your favorite?”
“That I’m choosing a Parisian hero instead of a Gothamite?” She raised an eyebrow. Dick mentally cursed himself. She didn’t know he was Nightwing. Of course she wouldn’t get the reference. Marinette missed his grimace as she reached back to grab more fries to eat as she talked. “He’s a really good guy. Really sweet and kind. I guess kind of like Wonder Girl. He went out of his way to help everyone he came across, though I suppose all the Paris heroes did that. He had amazing control over his powers and was so compassionate. Always thinking of others before himself. He saved me a few times. Used to stop by my balcony to talk sometimes… eat some free pastries. He was a friend. We kind of grew up together… I mean… as much as a hero can with a civilian.”
She gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile. It wasn’t. Dick made a mental note to do some research on Chat Noir and see how close he was to Marinette. He cringed again. That sounded pretty creepy. He couldn’t do that. “I haven’t even met Nightwing,” Marinette continued oblivious to Dick’s inner turmoil, “so Chat wins by default.” She looked at the figurine again and cocked her head to the side. “I need to make some Miraculous team dolls for the baby.”
“Should I be jealous?” Dick raised his brow playfully.
“Over me or the Parisian hero dolls or the pastries?” Her smile was coy but her eyes were sultry.
“How good were the pastries?” He leaned closer to her.
“Very.” She leaned in closer. “My parents make amazing pastries. So do I.”
“Maybe you can show me sometime.”
She nodded “I’d like to. I just need to know what you like.”
He traced her jaw with his finger. “I like you.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes, but moved closer to him with rosy cheeks. “You are so cheesy.”
He gave her a cheeky grin. “I haven’t even started yet. I like your eyes.” He slowly kissed both of her eyes. “I like your nose.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I like your cheeks.” He kissed both cheeks and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks after he kissed them. “I like your ears.” He gently grazed his teeth over her ear’s shell. His felt a warming in his chest when her breath hitched. “I like your jaw.” He laid small kisses along her jaw to the other side of her face. “I like this spot right here a lot.” She sighed happily as he ghosted nose over a spot below her ear and kissed it. “I like you.” He pulled her in for a passionate kiss. She whimpered as his tongue slipped between her lips to meet hers. She trailed her hands across his shoulders and up his neck slowly until she reached his hair. She pulled gently to pull him closer. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her into his lap.
After a few moments she pulled away breathing hard and rested her head on his shoulder, focusing on the ground. Dick waited for his breath to level back out and leaned close to her ear. “And chocolate. I like chocolate.”
She nodded slightly, still not looking at him and breathing deeply. His brow furrowed in concern. He gently rubbed her back. “Marinette?” She hummed quietly and held up a finger to let him know to wait. He gave her a nervous smile. “That bad, huh?”
She chuckled lightly and took another deep breath before looking back up at him. “Maybe we should hold off on tongues for a few weeks too.”
“Ah,” he nodded in understanding and cringed. “Gag reflex.”
Marinette hummed and settled back against his shoulder again. “And everything triggers it right now. Breathing triggers it. Thinking triggers it. Ugh. I can’t wait for this part to be over.”
Dick wrapped his arms tighter around her, but made sure to leave them light enough not to put too much pressure on her stomach. “Sorry you have to go through this. I promise to work on making my kissing less gag inducing.”
She giggled into his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his chest shaking with laughter as well. She pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes and rested her arms around his shoulders. “Chocolate. I can make that happen.”
Dick frowned at her. “You just almost threw up again. Maybe don’t push yourself. I’m more worried about you than getting some pastries,” his voice was suddenly tender.
Marinette smiled up at him and ran her fingers along his cheek, settling her hand on his neck. “I think it’s funny that you think I’m going to wait to start baking things for you or designing things for you. I’ve already started making plans and coming up with ideas.”
“I’m not going to convince you to take it easy am I?” She gave a resolute shake of her head. Dick shook his head and gave a defeated sigh. “Then, I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with.” He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss.
Chapter 8
Tags:
@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182
#maribat#Dickinette February#dickinette#Hope on Board#Knocked Up AU#platonic jasonette#platonic adrienette#prompt - figurine
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What did you think of Nari's characterization in ROTT?
Disliked it, as with most of the other things in the movie.
The short version of it is this: In Wizards, Nari's primary character traits were empathy and compassion for others. In Rise of the Titans, her primary character traits seem to be just a general lack of awareness for what's happening around her, and a tendency to make light of very serious situations.
Now before I get into the long-form answer, I will preface by saying that the writers of RotT were at a severe disadvantage when writing for characters who were introduced in Wizards because Wizards was still in production at the time. So I understand why Nari ended up feeling like a completely different character in the movie, and I am not shaming anyone for it. But the fact of the matter is that I found her characterization in Wizards to be much more appealing, and if that characterization had carried over to Rise of the Titans, I think I would've had slightly warmer feelings towards the movie. But let's get down to brass tacks now, because I've actually been dying to talk about this. This is gonna be a loooooong boi, so I've put everything under the cut to avoid clogging people's queues (I'm just really passionate about this bean goddess, okay? 😅)
When Nari is introduced to us in Wizards, she is quietly watching the arrival of our heroes at the castle. She doesn't make herself known to them, but it is clear she is very interested in what's happening. She does not make any other appearance until the Arcane Order launches their assault on Camelot.
Nari's first spoken words are, "Merlin! This is all my fault!" and as one would expect after hearing this, she is very obviously distressed and feeling guilty for putting everyone in danger. Merlin tells her they need to escape to the past, and that he needs her help in order to do it. Nari's response is to begin charging her magic as she says "I will do what I can."
After our main characters are thrown back in time, we're introduced to Nari as she was in the past. Although she is allied with the Arcane Order in their war against humanity, it's clear that she displays the least amount of malice out of the three. In fact, it's revealed that Nari has always been rather fond of humans, and has even reached out to them in friendship a number of times. After resurrecting Morgana, Nari is the one who does most of the explaining and introductions, showing a bit of a playful/mischievous side as she pokes fun at Bellroc and Skrael. ("I told you she would, Skrael! So old, and they still haven't learned manners.")
During the Battle of Killahead, we see Nari watching the war from a distance, and it's clear from the expression on her face that she is not liking any of this. Though she does briefly aid her siblings when they join in the battle, she reveals afterwards that she can sense the pain and suffering they have inflicted on others--and she doesn't believe the Order's ambitions are worth that. She abandons the Order, presumably spending the next 900 years in hiding, before seeking Merlin's protection.
Once our heroes have returned to the present, Nari becomes a bit more involved in the plot. She expresses genuine sorrow over the destruction of Arcadia Oaks High ("Your beautiful school-home was crushed!") and is clearly distressed by Jim's agony as the shard in his chest begins to work its dark magic. ("Poor soul! Your corruption...I feel it worsening.") After Jim is taken by the Order, we can see her comforting Toby in the background. She continues to show great concern and empathy for the people around her, and is still eager to help wherever she can, though her magic doesn't seem to be combat-oriented. She is also shown to be somewhat timid, hiding behind Merlin or Claire during confrontations with the Order--she is very clearly terrified of her old allies, and seems to want to avoid direct contact with them. When Douxie is struck down by the Order and is falling to his death, it is Nari who runs to try to save him before anyone else--apparently, if someone is in need, Nari's first instinct is to rush to their aid.
So, from all of that, we can gather that Nari, as she was characterized in Wizards, is intelligent, curious, cautious, gentle, empathetic, and very aware of what's going on around her. She is also a little playful and wild, but never to the point of disregarding what's happening or how others are feeling.
In Rise of the Titans, Nari remains consistent with this characterization for all of...seven minutes.
Initially, Nari is still very much herself in this scene (though I wish we could've been told what exactly made her want to stop running and face the Order head-on. Again, in Wizards, it was abundantly clear that that was the one thing she did NOT want to do). When Douxie expresses his anxiety about the situation, she takes him by the hand, offers him a reassuring smile, and says, gently but firmly, "No. No more running, Douxie." Excellent interaction. 10/10. Five stars. That's also the only time in the movie where Nari displays any level of awareness regarding Douxie's (or anyone's) feelings/wellbeing.
The body-swap scene is when Nari's character just completely swings in the opposite direction, and she becomes near-unrecognizable as being the same character from Wizards. Douxie, being our favorite Self-Sacrificing Idiot, swaps bodies with her at the last possible second, causing the Order to take him instead. Nari, now stuck inside Douxie's body, seemingly doesn't think much of this development at all. In fact, her first response is to giggle playfully. UM, NARI. NARI, SWEETIE, YOUR BIG BROTHER IS IN THE CLUTCHES THE MOST EVIL BEINGS KNOWN TO MANKIND. LIKE, THEY LITERALLY KILLED HIM THE LAST TIME HE RESCUED YOU FROM THEM, WHY ARE YOU NOT MORE WORRIED ABOUT THIS?! Up until this point, Nari has never been shown to underestimate the Arcane Order--she seems all too aware of the kind of violence and destruction they are capable of, which explains why she was so terrified of them in Wizards. But in Rise of the Titans she seems to just....not really care anymore? The entire time she is in Douxie's body, she doesn't express the slightest amount of concern for him, or for anyone around her. She just keeps doing...cutesy forest gremlin things, like singing to her flower, batting at a light fixture, and antagonizing Archie (she's definitely not the only character who was severely lacking in empathy in this movie, but this is an essay about Nari, so I'm not going to bother touching on everyone else). This is a direct contradiction to her characterization in Wizards, where she was shown to care deeply for the people around her, and displayed genuine distress whenever they were in danger or suffering.
Nari also persists in being pointlessly cryptic for the entirety of the movie because....reasons. Before the Order breaks Douxie's body-swap spell, she tells Jim, "Trollhunter make ninth configuration--the Kronosphere will make right." Which, of course, doesn't help him in the slightest. And when they finally succeed in rescuing Nari, she doesn't elaborate or explain this at all. She just says it again. Listen, I can get behind Nari being Insanely Ancient, and maybe a little out of touch with modern trends, but I'm fairly certain that Wizards Nari at least knew how to communicate. She never showed any inclination towards being cryptic or mysterious on purpose, at least. We're never given any explanation for Nari's sudden lack of clarity, so I guess it was just there for plot reasons. Which makes it that much more infuriating.
Also I don't know why, but the little "Hehe!" Nari does when Douxie pulls her into a hug kind of grinds my gears, because Nari, love, this is a really serious moment, you were just snapped out of mind control and your siblings are currently rampaging across globe in giant magical mechs, why are you giggling like a four-year-old and not, idk, SOBBING IN A MIXTURE OF RELIEF AND HORROR BECAUSE YOU WERE ALMOST PART OF WHAT DESTROYS THE EARTH?! AS THAT WOULD BE A MORE APPROPRIATE RESPONSE TO WHAT JUST HAPPENED????!!!!! But that's just a stupid little nitpick.
Now this is not me saying that Nari's characterization in the movie is objectively bad. Actually, it's kind of fitting for the Tales of Arcadia brand of humor--Super ancient demigoddess who houses the power to completely destroy the earth is also kind of a clueless ditz and needs to be babysat like a toddler. If she had not been introduced in Wizards, I would've been fine with this. But, much like the rest of the movie, Nari's vastly different characterization felt a tiny bit like a betrayal, and it consistently bothered me in every single one of her scenes. It also kept me from feeling the full impact of her death--seriously, I didn't cry at all when she was killed. Which....yeah, I'm just as surprised as you are.
So anyways, if you've made it this far, thank you so much for the ask, Non! Normally I have a bit more self control than to just....essay-dump like this, but honestly I've been thinking about this for way too long, and I had to get it out of my system. 🥴 And to anyone who really liked Nari's characterization in RotT--that's totally valid! Again, I don't think it was a bad characterization. It was just very inconsistent with her character as she was introduced to us in Wizards. And I just happen to prefer Wizards Nari over RotT Nari. 🌿✨
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A Ponderous Rewatch: In the Garden of Mindy
So today’s episode is neither a regular Pinky and the Brain skit nor a mere cameo. Today’s episode is…different, as the opening that spoofs the 1980s CBS Special Presentations pops up.
Perhaps the Warner Siblings can shed some light on this?
“Hi. We’re the Warner Brothers.”
“…And the Warner Sister.”
Look at these smug little gremlin children. You just know something is wrong when they make faces like that.
“And we’d like to invite you and all the members of your household…”
“…to gather around the TV set and join us now…”
“…for a very special episode of Animaniacs.”
“And what’s so special about it?”
“I’m not wearing any pants!”
…Wakko, you’re never wearing any pants.
Okay, okay, so we have the usual opening song and then the real explanation comes along.
“Welcome to the Animaniacs test kitchen!”
Oh no…
“We’re cookin’ up something really different for today’s show. All we need are our ingredients!”
Oh, kids, no!
“A dash of Pinky and the Brain!~”
WARNERS, PLEASE!!!
Man, the mice look so worn out. Did they…try to escape the Warner Siblings to avoid this whole thing? Like, that’s the only reason I can think of for why they look so tired as opposed to surprised or nonchalant like the other characters: They’re exhausted from attempting to run away. And for Pinky to be tired out is very, very telling.
“A cup of Slappy Squirrel!~”
Slappy is resigned to her fate.
“A tablespoon of Goodfeathers~”
I’m sorry about the smear face I managed to capture on you, Yakko.
I love how Bobby’s smirking a little, Squit is grinning like usual, and Pesto is looking at both of them like “If this is in any way you guys’ fault, I swear to the Godpigeon you’re all in for a beaking.”
“Add Rita, Runt, then swirl!~”
Meanwhile, Rita and Runt are just baffled.
“We add a pinch of Hippos~”
Why do you only have one of them?
…Wait, this is a fat joke, isn’t it? Goddammit.
“Buttons and Mindy, too~”
“Now top it off with Skippy Squirrel~”
Buttons and Flavio right now:
“What’s that make?
Animaniacs Stew!~”
Well, okay. We can at least call everything that results from this by a catchy name: The Stew AU.
“What’d we come up with?”
“Just watch…”
Oooh, children. You’ve committed a culinary evil this day.
“They’re Mindy and the Brain~”
So we’re mixing up the Animaniacs cast of characters and shows today.
[sighs]
Okay, so I guess it’s time to explain the basic premise of the Buttons and Mindy shorts and why they’re not fondly remembered, huh?
Well, the whole thing with Buttons and Mindy is a variation on the Baby’s Day Out type of scenario. Buttons the family dog is put in charge of guarding and babysitting Mindy, a friendly and curious toddler, by the mother of the family. The mother leaves to go…somewhere, and Mindy inevitably wanders off to chase after a bug or something new and interesting that she sees. Buttons goes after her because he loves Mindy very much and wants to keep her safe and be a Good Dog, and Mindy naively and unknowingly wanders into increasingly dangerous and life-threatening situations that Buttons must save her from, all the while getting beaten and bruised by the situations that were threatening Mindy.
The shorts usually end with Mindy and Buttons somehow ending up back home with Buttons ragged from the abuse he’s endured and Mindy perfectly fine except for maybe not being tied to her tether or in her playpen or whatever. The mother comes home and sees that Mindy is not quite where she was when she left her, or the surrounding area is a mess or something equally not that terrible, and berates Buttons for not taking better care of Mindy and calling him a Bad Dog.
And that’s where it ends.
If you’re not busting a gut at that description, congratulations, you are just like 90% of the Animaniacs audience.
The reason these shorts just don’t work for a lot of viewers, myself included, is that this kind of scenario is only funny once or maybe twice. After that, you just end up feeling bad for Buttons and don’t want to see a cartoon dog go through a conga line of pain that he doesn’t deserve. Not to mention that the whole premise can be boiled down to “Severe Parental Anxiety: The Show”, and not a lot of people like feeling that way for ten minutes or so per cartoon episode.
The reason the scenario works for a comedy movie like the aforementioned Baby’s Day Out is because the people going after the baby in that movie are kidnappers and obviously terrible people who only look out for the child’s safety so they can hold the kid for ransom, thus the pain they go through while the child remains okay is funny. Trying to do the same thing with an innocent family dog that just wants to keep a toddler safe? Not very funny at all. It’s just sad.
“Mindy and the Brain!
One’s a small child,
And the other’s…the Brain!~”
So now we have a Buttons and Mindy episode with Brain filling in for Buttons. Already this is…not great, but I suppose it’s the only suitable fit for Brain because he’d have it so, so much worse if he was put in the cast of the other skits.
I like the Goodfeathers skits, but I feel like Bobby and Pesto wouldn’t put up with his world domination shtick and end up berating him and/or beating him up. And Squit? Squit’s a do-gooder but he definitely doesn’t have Pinky’s level of passive subordination. Brain would be completely out of his league.
This isn’t to say that I wouldn’t want to see Brain interacting with the Goodfeathers, because holy shit yes PLEASE I would love the chaos that would ensue. I just think Brain wouldn’t last on his own with them.
Brain would, again, be completely out of his element in a Slappy Squirrel cartoon. Slappy’s skits hinge on her being a senior Looney Toon-type who knows just how to handle absurd scenarios and villains. Brain gets lost and confused incredibly quickly when unexpected situations pop up. He’s not a quick thinker in general. He’d be toast.
Being inserted into a Rita and Runt skit… Well, Rita wouldn’t be a good partner for obvious reasons that will become even more apparent later. And Runt is kind and a bit dimwitted but he’s no Pinky. Runt isn’t the type to be interested in helping to take over the world. He just doesn’t have the skills to do…almost anything that Pinky can, and he doesn’t have the drive to do it. Runt just wants a home and that’s it.
As for the Hip Hippos, there’s a skit of theirs down the line where Brain is involved and it honestly turns out about as well as it does for Brain in this episode.
So, let’s see how Brain fares in a world without Pinky.
“He uses his lobe
To overthrow the globe!~”
Also, we’re again treated to TMS doing the animation, which certainly elevates this skit quite a bit.
“She’s whimsy,”
I love how Brain goes from shock and surprise to absolute petulant grumpiness after seeing that Mindy put him in a jar.
“They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”
If only this was the extent of your humiliation today, Brain. If only.
[Various raspberry and baby babbling noises]
“Hi, Lady!”
“It’s ‘Mom’.”
This is honestly the only joke I ever liked in the Buttons and Mindy shorts. Apparently it was based on something a real child of a friend of an Animaniacs creator would say to their mom.
“Now listen, honey, mommy has to go to a better parenting conference. You stay right here and play.”
A “better parenting conference”, huh? Lady, you need it more than you know. For many reasons.
“Okay Lady, I love you, buh-bye!~”
Is anyone else getting a horrid sense of foreboding and dread from Mindy’s doll looking like a simplified Elmyra?
“Now, Brain, you keep an eye on Mindy while I’m gone.”
Nothing like leaving a mouse in a cage in charge of a toddler, huh?
Gosh, brain’s so adorably chubby in this episode. Look at him. Look at that grumpy face and that pudgy belly.
“I always get an attitude from him…”
Yeah, he’s… Yeah. That’s Brain, all right.
“At last, that meddler is gone! I’m free to begin my plan to…conquer the world!”
I love that back shot of Brain so much. It’s perfect. That’s the perfect Brain proportions and I can only dream of being able to draw cartoons that well.
“First, I’ll use telepathy to open the cage.”
C-come again? “Telepathy”?
Brain, honey… You’re looking for the word “telekinesis”. You should know this.
Also I guess Pinky’s not the only one with telekinesis capabilities.
The fact that he cocks his head to the side when he turns the trowel with his mind is a nice little detail.
“Now to get Mindy…”
That strut, though. He’s a mouse on a mission.
“Come, Mindy, it’s time for us to conquer the world!”
...Okay, I’ll say it: Mindy is very cute in this shot.
Meanwhile Brain...looks like a gremlin.
“Why?”
“By right of superior intelligence, I am best suited to guide the destiny of this planet.”
Careful, Brain. You’re getting dangerously close to--
“Why?”
“My empirical powers give me the mandate.”
BRAIN, this is starting to sound like eugenics...!
“Why?”
“Because it’s something I want to do!”
Oh lord, without Pinky to reel him in and remind him of all the real reasons he wants to conquer the world, the Brain of this universe has devolved into a mouse driven purely by ego and spite.
His little tantrum is adorable, though.
“Okay, I love you! [MWAH~]”
“I am uncomfortable with that.”
The Brain be like: What is this...”affection” you speak of? This is new and scary to me.
“Now listen closely, Mindy: Using the gardener’s weed killer, manure, and a little zoysia grass,--”
Zoysia grass is an actual thing, by the way. It’s the kind of grass you see mostly on golf courses.
“--I will construct a powerful stink bomb!”
GAH! No need to punctuate the term by making your eyes bulge, Brain.
“We’ll use the lawn mower engine to construct a rocket and fill it with the gas. When precisely launched, the prevailing winds will spread the gas across the world’s capitals.”
As impressed as I would be with you being able to make a rocket from a lawn mower engine, Brain, it’s kind of overshadowed by you doing that thing again where you make a drawing animate like a video. Another strange power to add to the list, I suppose.
“As the stench drives the government officials out into the streets, we will rush in and seize power!”
Good lord, Brain, calm down. You’re gonna break that pointing stick!
“You understand?”
“Mousey!~”
You’re...not very good with kids, are you, Brain?
“Pretty Brain mousey…!”
“I am mortified.”
I don’t see why, you look positively precious.
“Little mousey big head!”
Mindy, dear, I too wish to squish this cute little megalomaniacal mouse sometimes but you’re doing it way too hard.
“Put me down, Mindy, or I shall have to hurt you.”
“Okay, I love you, buh-bye!”
The Brain: [is a mouse with genius intellect and gadgetry know-how with the drive to take over the world]
Also The Brain: [gets dunked on by a toddler merely dropping him on the ground]
“I sense I’ve completed the first step of my plan: Finding manure.”
That’s one way to look on the bright side, I suppose.
Sweetie, you’ve got something stuck on your head still.
“Pungent aroma, if I do say so.”
“Now to construct the rocket…”
...Why would you take the mask off now? You’re still right over top of the stink bomb! Brain, have the fumes messed with your thinking abilities already?
I do like the animation of him tearing the mask off, though.
“Buggy! Buggy!”
“All right, Mindy: Bring me the mower!”
If you ever need a pose that sums up Brain perfectly, it’s this one right here. This is him distilled down to his purest form. God bless TMS for this.
“Soon the world will be mine!”
Uh, yeah, about that...
“Woooow! Buggy go fast! Wheeeeeee!~”
“Whoooooaaaa! GAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”
“Beh, peh, EUGH!”
Brain’s plans go to shit really fast without Pinky around. Sometimes quite literally, it seems.
“Buggy go ‘round!”
[Running in the 90s starts playing]
“Ahahaha!”
Don’t worry folks. As always, Mindy is okay. Brain, however...
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
Something I missed on my first viewing of this episode: the grass around Brain’s feet as he walks around covered in his stinkbomb juice dies near instantly.
“Wahahahaha! Silly Brain!”
“This is most unexpected.”
Is it, though? Is it really, Brain?
So, uh, something that caught me off-guard while watching this for the first time is what happens next.
Pinky and the Brain is, obviously, a Warner Brothers cartoon with some Looney Toon sensibilities. Despite that, though, while there is the occasional being-flattened-like-a-pancake or being-covered-in-soot-after-an-explosion types of cartoon slapstick and such, it doesn’t really go much beyond that when it comes to cartoonish injuries and such. The worst I’d ever seen it get in this show is at the end of Opportunity Knox when Pinky and Brain are all wrapped up in bandages and some of their fur has been scraped off raw. Even then, that was surprisingly “graphic” for the show.
But this upcoming bit?
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! D8
--was my reaction the first time. It’s not bloody and gory, but seeing Brain being sliced into sections by a lawn mower is just...startling, to put it mildly. To my knowledge (and well, it has been decades since I regularly watched the show, so take this with a grain of salt), the Pinky and the Brain Animaniacs sketches and the spinoff never does something this Looney Toons to them.
And what really gets me is that he’s not just cut into sections with his eyeballs popped out, it’s that there’s an obvious hole in the middle of each section??? For some reason??? What that to imply space for his skeleton?!? A creamy center filling?!?
TMS, you could have just animated him in sections like some kind of mousey marshmallow, why did you include the holes?!?
[Press F to Pay Respects]
“Bleh! Brain smell like poo-poo!”
“I must re-think my present career…”
Honestly, Brain? Without Pinky to help you, I’d say it’s a good idea to just try and escape this family first and then maybe try on your own to take over the world. You might have a slightly better chance then.
“What’s that horrible smell?! Is that you, Brain?! Have you been allowing Mindy to feed you old cheese again? Bad mouse! Bad, bad mouse!”
Wait, “again”?
“…I hate being chided.”
You know, it’s interesting how he says that about this human woman chiding him, but in the regular Pinky and the Brain universe Pinky will sometimes chide Brain for doing something dubiously immoral, and while he may hate it there too...he more often than not backs down and admits to his faults when it’s Pinky doing it.
“But she’ll be gone soon, then I can begin my plans for tomorrow: Another plot to take over the world!”
“But first: A bath.”
I mean, yeah. Priorities.
“He’s stinky,
They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”
Well, I never thought we’d get a Brain bath scene until the comics but here we are.
I wonder if Pinky would find it equally as appealing to watch as that one...
Okay, that sure was...an episode. Let’s see how the other half of the equation is doing.
“They’re Pinky and the Cat!
Yes, Pinky and the Cat!
Her name is Rita,~”
Oh NO...
I love the contrast of these two shots. It’s as if Pinky’s self preservation instinct kicks in only long enough for him to be vaguely worried about having a cat in his cage...and his lack of attention span overtakes it and he does whatever the hell this is.
“He’s a lab rat!~”
“A mouse!”
At least he still has it in him to be offended enough to correct the Warners about his actual species.
“They live inside a cage,
Making less than minimum wage.~
Aww...
Oh, Pinky, sweetie... I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen.
“It’s dinky,~”
“They’re Pinky and the Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat!~”
Pinky making faces in the reflection of the water bowl is another bit of animation that’s used in the spin-off’s opening theme. It’s kind of weird to pull something from this particular segment, but whatever.
“What do you want to do tonight, Rita?”
It was so difficult to get a shot of Pinky’s cute little coy stance here, but it was worth it. Look at this cute, naive little mouse. He just wants to be friends, Rita!
“I dunno, eat you for supper?”
[GULP]
[Press F to Pay Respects...Again]
“So far, this is my favourite episode.”
“Narf! Oh, roomy accommodations, Rita!”
Don’t worry, folks, he’s fine! Yup. He’s okay somehow.
Lord, I hope this didn’t awaken a vore fetish in anyone.
“She ate the rat
‘cause Rita is a cat, cat, cat, cat, cat!~”
So yeah, that’s the end of this little experiment by the Warner Siblings. Well, the end of what’s relevant to this blog series, anyway. There’s also a skit with Pesto and Runt trying to find a home, which is honestly the best one out of this whole bunch of AU one-shots.
Then there’s a Katie Ka-Boom and Chicken Boo crossover, which is as underwhelming as you can imagine.
There’s a short where Dot takes the place of Slappy Squirrel, which goes about as well as it can after the theme song repeatedly calls her “Dottie the Squirrel”.
Lastly, Slappy takes the place of Dot in a Warner Siblings skit (with a cameo with Flavio as Skippy) where the Warners barge in on a very thinly veiled parody of Saddam Hussein and, uh... Well, it’s about as awkward to watch as it sounds. Props to Slappy for not really being interested in any part of that skit, though.
Man, after this utterly bizarre set of skits, I think we really need that full episode length Pinky and the Brain episode, don’t we?
Soon, folks. Soon.
See you then!
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Underneath The Spotlight- A Sanders Sides Fic
Taglist: @sophiexteresa
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Chapter 12- The Most Stressful Twenty Seconds of Patton’s Life So Far
(Read chapter 1 here!)
(Read here on ao3!)
Warnings: Nausea, anxiety, stress, mentions of food, cursing, caps
A/N: this is it folks! Everyone wish Patton good luck, he’s gonna need it
Patton swore he was about to be sick. Waiting in the wings for the first of his back-to-back dances, wearing his next costume underneath his current one, not even Janus’ arms around his waist and soothing voice in his ears could calm his nerves. His breathing became erratic as he felt tears well in his eyes. Janus took his face in his hands.
“Here now, it’s ok. Don’t cry, your makeup will run.”
Patton violently shook his head. “Janus I can’t do this. It’s gonna fail, and I’m gonna miss my next dance, and all that hard work will be for nothing-“
“Patton Hart, you listen to me. Everything is going to be fine. I am here, and I will get you through this.”
Patton nodded but didn’t seem convinced, but it was too late for Janus to try and comfort him any further as suddenly the sound of applause filled Patton’s ears. Janus hugged him tight.
“I’ll meet you round the other side of the stage. Good luck, darling.”
Patton nodded as Janus left him. He truly was in this alone now. This had to go perfectly. It was now or never.
Patton pushed all his fears and anxieties down as the music began, plastering on a big smile as he walked on stage, ready to attack this energetic and fast-tempo dance with everything he had. He’d always enjoyed the more upbeat dance styles, they were much easier for someone of his short stature. Because he was so small, he struggled with the more lyrical and graceful styles- he only really enjoyed ballroom due to being partnered with Janus, he had no idea how dancers like Roman made it look so easy. This routine, however, was more up Patton’s street- it was extremely fast-paced and incorporated elements of jive with lots of kicks and leaps- it was probably one of Patton’s favourites he had ever danced... it would be great if all this impending anxiety and dread could just give it a rest. Patton’s stamina had significantly improved since he started rehearsing this routine, although it still wasn’t anywhere near on the level of Roman’s, Patton knew that wasn’t the real reason his heart rate began steadily climbing towards the second half of the routine. He performed the final steps and beamed out to the audience as he struck the final pose, taking in the sound of applause with pride. But as soon as the lights fell all of that collapsed, and he sprinted off stage faster than he’d ever ran in his life.
Janus, Remus, Virgil and a few others were gathered around a chair waiting for him, each holding an accessory for his next costume. Patton dove into the seat, holding out his arms and legs as about six people swarmed his vision, and he felt his shoelaces loosen and his shoes fall off.
“Virgil, take off his bowtie!”
“Who’s got his hat?!”
“Put on that other shoe!”
“Careful with his makeup!”
“Tie it faster!”
“Hurry up!”
“We can’t stall the music much longer-“
“Five seconds!”
The only coherent thought Patton managed to have throughout this process was “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone tie shoes so fast in my life...” When he was in it to help one of his friends, Remus always pulled it out of the bag. Tying dance shoes at hyperspeed was apparently one of his hidden talents.
A tap on the shoulder from Janus signalled to Patton that he was ready to go, and as he arrived in the wing ready for his next dance, looking himself up and down to give his costume a final check, it dawned upon him that he was actually early. He strolled out onto the stage, beaming with pride, ready to dance his heart out once again. Before arriving in his position on stage, he locked eyes with Roman (also in this dance) for a split second who grinned at him and seemed to say “you made it!” And Patton grinned back. Transforming his outfit in twenty seconds, mastering the art of telepathy, Patton seemed to have achieved it all on that night. What had once seemed impossible, helped by his amazing friends, somehow, he had managed it. And now, once again, he was doing what he loved, performing amazing dance routines on a grand stage. Patton had never felt more on top of the world...
Upon return to the dressing room, Patton launched himself at Janus, babbling words of thanks into his shoulders. Janus merely said.
“Don’t mention it, Patton. It was my pleasure to help you, my love. I couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner these last few months.”
Patton beamed up at him.
“Me either. I love you too.”
Janus suddenly looked as if struck by an idea.
“You know what you deserve?”
Patton tilted his head to the side, giving that damn innocently curious look he’d given all those months ago when Janus had first taught him the waltz, when he’d first fallen in love with him. He gave the smaller boy a fond smile.
“Pizza.”
Patton’s face lit up in a bright smile and he began clapping his hands together at some impossible frequency. Then his face fell a little.
“Aww, Janus that’s such a sweet idea, and I am a little hungry but I don’t think we’re allowed to-“
But it was too late, Janus was already phoning the pizza place.
“Hello, can I place an order please?... could I have two margaritas, two vegetarians, one with ham and pineapple... for the tasteless gremlin over here,” Janus mumbled, giving Remus a derogatory glance, “and...” Janus placed his hand over the microphone to call across the dressing room
“Hey Roman what kind of pizza do you want?”
There was currently a full-scale operation going on across the room to get both twins ready for a dance, Roman turned away from the mirror for a second to shout “Pepperoni please!” before bolting it out of the dressing room towards the stage.
Janus picked up the phone again. “And one with pepperoni please. Oh, delivery address... uhm... you can just bring it to the theatre foyer. Yes, the theatre. Yeah, the big one in the town square. No, this isn’t a prank! I just want pizza!”
Patton chuckled into his sleeve as Janus began to look frustrated.
“Thank you, have a nice evening.” Janus hung up. “Should be here in just over twenty minutes... that should be basically straight after the show finishes.”
“We’ll have to get to the foyer quickly, then.”
“We’ll work something out-“
“LOGAN HELP I CAN’T GET MY SHOE ON!”
“Remus what the hell do you mean?”
“I CAN’T TIE IT UP THE LACE HAS SNAPPED!”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S SNAPPED?!”
“I MEANT WHAT I SAID! LO YOU’VE GOTTA HELP!”
“REMUS KINGSLEY I FUCKING SWEAR TO GOD-“
Patton and Janus watched the commotion unfold as Logan took the lace out of Remus’ shoe that was indeed completely snapped in half, while Virgil watched helplessly.
“How the fuck have you done that?!” Virgil asked.
“Lecture me later, this is kinda time sensitive!” Remus yelled. He was somehow never ready for his dances in time, despite him having much fewer of them compared to Roman.
“We’re about the same size, just bloody take mine,” said Janus, throwing his left shoe across the room while Patton swore he heard Virgil say “yeet” under his breath. Logan caught it and gave it to Remus, before going to sit in his chair and lean his head against the mirror while pinching the bridge of his nose and taking deep breaths. Janus couldn’t help but laugh at this while Virgil helped Remus tie his laces before he raced out of the room, now wearing one of his own shoes and one of Janus’. Patton laughed out loud because now he could rest easy, with only a couple more dances to go and the promise of pizza afterwards, and the knowledge that he just did something he once thought to be impossible.
Next chapter
#moceit#romantic moceit#sanders sides#patton angst#platonic intrulogical#underneath the spotlight#sanders sides dance school au#my writing#patton x deceit#deceit x patton#platonic dukeceit#platonic royality#ts sides#tss#thomas sanders#patton sanders#ts patton#janus sanders#ts janus#logan sanders#ts logan#Virgil sanders#ts virgil#roman sanders#ts roman#ts remus#remus sanders#ts human au#sanders sides human au#sanders sides fic
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Can I ask for Bede jealousy headcanons? Also Bede's reaction to seeing his S/O getting jealous if it's not too much?
Bede (And You) Getting Jealous
Of course, it’s not too much~ But I would like to say that I apologize for not being able to answer this request earlier. But now I have finished finals and I have more time to write. Woo~ Anyway enjoy, and I hope you like it!
Bede Being Jealous
His first thought to cross his mind was, who did this dumb gremlin think he was to be flirting with a perfect being like you?!
He knew you were champion, but you had wiped the floor with this person’s disgusting face
But then again, he had expected nothing less from you
But Bede could not stop himself from just wanting to go over there and grab this insect from you and launch them right into space
Just far, far from you
At least 300 miles
But he won’t
Ever since Opal took him in and you somehow gave him a chance with this relationship, he has been trying his best to be a better person
Bede knows that before Opal he was, to put it lightly, a major jerk
All he wanted was to impress the chairman and leave his shadow of an orphan behind
But he couldn’t, and instead decided to do the chairman's bidding to feel at least a sliver of importance
But then Opal took him under her wing and gave him a chance to have a family, and an importance. And he knew how much work Opal put into him in order for him to succeed
So he decided he was going to be the best gym leader he could be
For Opal, and for you
One of the first things he has been trying to do is to be kinder to people
To understand that while he may have difficulties in life, so does everyone else. And quite honestly he has been doing well
He is able to help trainers that come into his gym and challenge him, and guide them to a goal he always wanted but never really needed
But when they say they are going to beat you, Bede just rolls his eyes
You had helped him to where he is now, and you have been a light to him
And now when he sees this unworthy troll flirting with you, he stops himself
Bede doesn’t want you to think less of him, he doesn’t want you to think he has no respect for you
So he stops
He stays where he is, and feels his past insecurities slowly rise from under
Jealously, anger… fear
And from across the room you see this, his face flushed, a scowl on his face, and his fists tightly clenching his shirt
You can see everything
And you quickly say goodbye to your opponent and rush over to him
You knew what Bede has gone through. During your time together as partners, he has given you his heart but also allowed you to break down his shell he had created for the rest of the world
And you were forever grateful he allowed you to see him, for him
Once you were in front of him, you softly unclenched his fingers from his shirt and brought it up to your lips
Bede’s face quickly turned red, and he huffed looking away. You just chuckled and kissed his other hand
Even after all this time you both were together, he could not get used to your affection
You then kissed his lips (which were at a higher temperature than usual) and intertwined your fingers with his
“Can I take my favorite fairy-type gym leader out to eat?”
“Y-Yes, you may.”
How did I ever deserve you?
You Being Jealous
You would not hesitate to bring out your pokemon and kick these people out of Galar
Like every other battle, Bede participates in, you are up on the stands cheering him on
Though he can’t help but glance at you every 5 seconds, which leads to his pokemon rolling their eyes
Since Bede has taken the mantle of being the Fairy-type gym leader, people have been able to see just how cute this tsundere boy was
Doesn’t help that during the battle he looks like an absolute angel (ST)
But there were some girls who took it too far
Like this girl who just lost to your precious boy
You were out in the lobby waiting for Bede like you do every time you come here
You spotted him coming out of his locker room, and you gave him your most charming of smiles
The blush that came onto his face was just the cutest
But then a girl approached Bede asking for his autograph, which he quickly signed then turned to walk to you
Then the girl decided to stop him again and ask for a date
When you heard this you immediately narrowed your eyes and started walking towards them
“I’m sorry but I have to go somewhere.”
“Then just accept my date, I promise we can have a good time.”
Oh goodness you wanted to punch this girl
“I have a girlfriend, so I am going to have to say no.”
“I bet she is nowhere ne-”
You cleared your throat and took her hands from his sleeve
“I believe my boyfriend told you no, so now excuse us we have somewhere to get to.”
You started to walk away with your boyfriend when she decided to speak again
“I challenge you to a battle! Whoever wins keeps Bede!”
Bede swears the moment the words came out of her mouth, your eyes became pure fire
The only thing you were able to see, was red
You let go of his hand and walked to this girl, and forced her to look into your eyes
“Bede is not some prize you can just battle for. And if you want to battle me, you will first have to complete the gym challenge because it seems you can not even do that.”
Bede was starting to wonder if you were ever this hot
Her eyes lit up with recognition and she started to shake
You let her go and walked towards Bede
Then you brought him down to the most searing kiss he had ever experienced in his existence
His knees buckled, and you swore you heard a tiny moan come out of his mouth
You let him go, as his face burst out into flames
“Besides he already chose me as his lucky partner.”
“Did you have to scare her off like that?”
“Yes.”
#pokemon#pokemon swsh#pokemon sword#pokemon shield#pokemon imagines#pokemon swsh imagines#pokemon bede#bede#bede imagine#bede x reader#bede scenario
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you know i’m stupid (for you)
Danganronpa V3 | Kokichi/Shuichi/Kaito | Rated T
Shuichi can only yell at Kaito to stop as the taller man begins to pull Kokichi in an attempt to get him off the refrigerator, but what happens instead is that Kokichi’s entire body weight is pulled forward, and with it, so is the fridge.
“Oh, fuck—” Kokichi says, and Shuichi feels his soul leave his body when the refrigerator topples forward, bringing Kokichi down with it.
(OR: Kokichi wants to prove that he's actually not that short; he's a bit idiotic, and Shuichi and Kaito are amused until they aren't.)
READ ON AO3!
--
The moment Shuichi walks through the door of their shared apartment, his heart launches through the roof.
“Hey, Saihara-chan!” comes the voice from the little menace, all happy and proud (though there is absolutely no reason for him to be proud because what the fuck is going on here) and he swings his legs from where he’s perched. Kaito is already home and he’s screeching, yelling at Kokichi to get the fuck down you little shit!
“K-Kokichi?!” Shuichi says his name in something akin to a screech, darting forward because his little boyfriend is on their very tall refrigerator, perched on the edge and looking dangerously close to possibly slipping off. “Kokichi, don’t—”
And it’s not as if Kokichi hasn’t pulled shit like this before, because he does—too often, in Shuichi’s opinion—but he and Kaito suffer from way too many headaches and heart attacks that Kokichi is completely responsible for, and Shuichi never gets used to his antics so every day is a new experience. However, perching yourself on the top of the fridge, being as small as you are while rocking back and forth (while said fridge looks close to toppling over), is a recipe for disaster.
“Kokichi! Get down! Get down right now!” Kaito screams, already having lost his cool as he stomps around the refrigerator, hands waving wildly, looking like he’s debating between yanking Kokichi to the floor or murdering the little thing. Both, maybe. In that order.
Kokichi giggles, shrugging his shoulders as Shuichi looks up at him helplessly. “Momo-chan is so loud, he’s going to get a noise complaint filed! And anyway, I’m just proving my point, aren’t I?”
A point? Could it be—
“Ouma-kun, is that really what this is about?” Shuichi says, appalled.
“Yep!” His legs swing haphazardly and Shuichi can feel himself getting lightheaded from the stress of this situation.
“I don’t care about whatever you’re trying to do! If you fall…!” Kaito says, and with that he lunges forward, reaching up and taking Kokichi by the hands as the boy squeaks in surprise. Shuichi can only yell at Kaito to stop as the taller man begins to pull Kokichi in an attempt to get him off the refrigerator, but what happens instead is that Kokichi’s entire body weight is pulled forward, and with it, so is the refrigerator.
“Oh, fuck—” Kokichi says, and Shuichi feels his soul leave his body when the fridge topples forward, bringing Kokichi down with it.
-
How did we get there, one may ask?
Like a lot of things in Shuichi’s life tends to do, everything starts with Kokichi. Shuichi is fairly certain that the world revolves around the purple-haired menace and he sits there in the middle of it all, bending the earth at his own will, because everything always leads back to Kokichi.
However, this time around, Kokichi hadn’t done anything in particular to instigate his future actions. In fact, he was merely existing.
And because Shuichi and Kaito are also menaces when they want to be, they had found a new subject to pick on: Kokichi’s height.
“Give it back!” Kokichi whines, hopping up and down as Kaito holds the object—Kokichi’s remote controller for his brand new drone (that he totally didn’t beg Shuichi into buying)—up high above his head, holding back snickers as Shuichi watches on in guilty amusement.
“Huh? Is someone talking to me right now?” Kaito says, looking around in faux thoughtfulness as he pretends to not see Kokichi. “Oh, Ouma? Sorry, you’re just so small that I can’t really see you.”
“You—!” Kokichi screeches, face beet-red in what Shuichi can only perceive as frustration and/or embarrassment. Shuichi could step in, but this scene is all too entertaining, and both of his boyfriends interacting is just too much for him to handle anyway, so he looks on in fond joy. Kokichi continues to scream, “Momo-chan, you dickwad, give it back or else I’ll smash you upside the head!”
“Can you even reach my head?”
“You—! I’ll grab you by your ugly spiky hair, pull you down, and then smash your head in!”
“Hey, let’s not be violent,” Shuichi says, barely holding back laughter as Kokichi looks to him with round eyes filled with crocodile tears. He decides to take a little bit of pity on his smallest boyfriend, “Momota-kun, come on, he’s not that small…”
“Poor Shuichi, always sticking up for the little gremlin like that,” Kaito sighs, but he doesn’t relent in his teasing, even dipping his hand down to let Kokichi have the chance to grab at the controller before Kaito moves the controller out of reach again. This particular action makes Kokichi yell and stomp down on Kaito’s feet, which then makes Kaito start to jog around the room as his smaller boyfriend wails and chases him around.
“Momo-chan, I’ll kill you!” Kokichi cries, grabbing onto the back of Kaito’s shirt and yanking so hard Shuichi is afraid the fabric might end up ripping. “That’s the controller for the drone Shumai just got for me! Give it back!”
“N-No violence…” Shuichi snickers, voice bubbling into laughter at the end of his words, unable to hold it back anymore as Kokichi loses his will to jump for the controller, instead wailing while pounding his fists against Kaito’s chest. (He’s just kind of maybe very totally in love. With both of them. Maybe. Definitely.)
“Saihara-chan, why are you letting him do this to me?” Kokichi wails again, tugging on the front of Kaito’s shirt. “I’ll kill both of you!”
“You’re way too short to even do anything so bad to us,” Kaito says, spurring Kokichi on.
When Kokichi looks like he really may just burst, both into tears and into a torrent of screams, Shuichi finally intervenes, stepping to the both of them. He wraps his arms around Kokichi, hooking his chin over the smaller one’s shoulder. This elicits a small whine from the older one, who gives one final halfhearted pound on Kaito’s chest. “Jeez… both Shumai and horrible Momo-chan hate me enough to make fun of me…” he sniffs softly. “Ah, jeez…”
“Come on, we’re just joking, don’t act like you haven’t done worse things to us,” Kaito says in amusement, finally handing Kokichi his controller back. When Kokichi grabs it out of Kaito’s hands, pouting petulantly, the taller one only chuckles. “Little shits like you need a taste of their own medicine.”
“I’m not even short, you’re just… all above average height,” Kokichi murmurs, seemingly all out of energy to come up with proper rebuttals. Shuichi hums in gentle reassurance, rubbing circles into Kokichi’s hips, which make the smaller boy giggle softly (Kokichi is ticklish which is so fucking cute but he’s cute in general, Shuichi decides). “H-Hey! Is this Shumai’s way of agreeing with me? Silly Saihara-chan, doesn’t know how to keep his hands off of me and all!”
“I’m not agreeing,” Shuichi says, wanting to join in on the teasing, because it’s not fair to let Kaito steal all of Kokichi’s reactions. “You have to admit you’re quite short, Ouma-kun. I’m not trying to agree with Momota-kun or anything… just, y’know, stating facts.”
Kokichi is silent for a beat before he groans, wriggling out of Shuichi’s embrace. Another beat of silence passes, and then: “You guys all suck,” he mutters, eyes glassy with what Shuichi can tell are merely crocodile tears. He wants to tease him, but not to the point of genuine tears, so that’s a relief. “I’m… I’m going into my room and I’m going to sulk and hope you all fall down the stairs or something!”
“Ouma-kun—”
“I hate you too, Shumai! I am tall! I can prove it!”
“Ah, can you?” Shuichi laughs lightly, reaching out for Kokichi again in order to pull him back into another embrace, but the little one darts away from them while sticking his tongue out obnoxiously. “Hey, come on, don’t be like that…”
“If you’re going to be mean to me, your leader, then obviously you need to expect some consequences,” Kokichi complains, blowing a raspberry at them both before skipping off, presumably to head to their room, where he would then lock the door and not let them in in order to fulfill his role as angry little boyfriend. It’s practically routine at this point, and Shuichi is so, so endeared. Apparently so is Kaito, who looks at Kokichi with a dazed expression on his face as the smaller one skips away.
“He says he’s going to prove that he’s tall,” Shuichi says, breaking the quiet atmosphere that comes around once Kokichi is gone. Kaito wraps an arm around him, and Shuichi leans into the embrace. “Think he’ll live up to that?”
“He’s Ouma, man,” Kaito says, making a tsk noise with his tongue. “Who the hell knows?”
Shuichi hums. Who the hell knows?
-
The current predicament:
Shuichi had just walked in after a very tiring day, and there his smallest boyfriend is, sitting on the top of the refrigerator and giggling like a little maniac.
“Kokichi! Get down! Get down right now!” Kaito screams, already having lost his cool as he stomps around the refrigerator, hands waving wildly, looking like he’s debating between yanking Kokichi to the floor or murdering the little thing. Both, maybe. In that order.
Kokichi giggles, shrugging his shoulders as Shuichi looks up at him helplessly. “Momo-chan is so loud, he’s going to get a noise complaint filed! And anyway, I’m just proving my point, aren’t I?”
A point? Could it be—
“Ouma-kun, is that really what this is about?” Shuichi says, appalled.
“Yep!” His legs swing haphazardly and Shuichi can feel himself getting lightheaded from the stress of this situation.
So this is how he’s proving he can be taller than us?
“I don’t care about whatever you’re trying to do! If you fall…!” Kaito says, and with that he lunges forward, reaching up and taking Kokichi by the hands as the boy squeaks in surprise. Shuichi can only yell at Kaito to stop as the taller man begins to pull Kokichi in an attempt to get him off the refrigerator, but what happens instead is that Kokichi’s entire body weight is pulled forward, and with it, so is the refrigerator.
“Oh, fuck—” Kokichi says, and Shuichi feels his soul leave his body when the fridge topples forward, bringing Kokichi down with it.
Shuichi, now soulless and about to pass out, dives for Kokichi from where he is, like he can somehow save him from the fall. It all happens in slow motion—Kokichi’s look of impromptu fear, Kaito’s look of even more fear, the fridge falling forward, Kokichi falling with it.
Kaito manages to yank Kokichi hard enough away from the refrigerator, easy because his hands were still clasped around Kokichi’s, obviously afraid the huge tall object might squash him like a bug. Shuichi squeaks as the fridge meets the floor, a terrifying crash echoing throughout their apartment and resonating loudly.
It takes him a full two seconds before he moves, avoiding the fallen fridge as he kneels in front of his boyfriends’ sprawled forms. Kaito is already working on sitting up, eyes blown wide with panic as he pushes himself to his elbows. Kokichi, however, is facedown, and Shuichi’s heart seizes with unfathomable fear because oh god, Kokichi, fuck, is he hurt is he okay is he breathing is he—
“Kokichi?!” Shuichi cries, hands quivering as they hover over his boyfriend, Kaito’s hands the same, hesitant on touching The thud-thud-thudding of his own heartbeat pounds in his ears—
“Ah…” Kokichi says, voice shaky as he lifts his head up, eyes blinking rapidly. Shuichi feels the first beginnings of relief, but they’re quickly replaced by horror when he sees the blood beginning to drip from Kokichi’s nose. It steadily drips down, splattering to the floor in a steady rivulet.
Kaito swears under his breath, quickly getting up and probably rushing to get a tissue, but Shuichi barely registers the movement as he helps Kokichi get into a sitting position, panic increasing at the dazed look on his face. “Kokichi, shit,” Shuichi hisses, cupping his face in his hands. “Oh, my gosh.”
Kaito returns, immediately staunching the nosebleed with the wad of tissues in his hand. “Kichi, can you hear me? Look at me, look at us,” he says, unable to conceal his own panic as his free hand cups the back of Kokichi’s head. Shuichi rubs his thumb across the purple haired boy’s cheek, trying to get him to look him in the eyes. “Kokichi!” Kaito repeats, and Shuichi is speechless, himself; he could die from this anxiety.
Then, Kokichi blinks, a small-but-there smile beginning to spread across his face. A pregnant pause. And then, “Nishishi… A-Ah, concerned? Jeez, Momo-chan and Shumai are going to get wrinkles like old grandpas from how much they yell over me…”
“You little—” Kaito stammers, but the relief is clear as day. Shuichi exhales, thankful that Kokichi is not nearly as catatonic as he had previously been, but still.
“I might die from how much I’m bleeding out,” Kokichi mutters, crossing his eyes in order to look at the tissues that Kaito is still holding to his nose.
“Where does it hurt? Where are you hurt, Kichi? W-What do I need to fix?” Shuichi asks, rapidfire questions shooting out of his mouth as his hands tremble against Kokichi’s smooth cheeks. Concussion? Broken bone? Punctured lung? Please let it not be a punctured lung—
“Gosh, Saihara-chan! I literally just said I’m not dying, stop looking at me like I am!” Kokichi whines. “Where does it hurt, you ask? Considering I just slipped off a fridge, everything hurts, including my eyes and nose and lips and legs and head, so I think I may be dying.”
“O-Ouma-kun, I’m serious!”
“Aw, fine…” Kokichi murmurs. “I-I don’t know… maybe I hit my head?”
Kaito curses again under his breath. “Fuck, are you serious? Look at me, Ouma,” he says and Shuichi relinquishes his hold slightly to let Kokichi turn his head in order to look Kaito in the eye. “I just need to…” he trails off; Shuichi can only assume that he’s searching for signs of a concussion. “Does your head hurt? Feeling nauseous? Do you remember what happened?”
Kokichi’s face scrunches up in a way that tugs at Shuichi’s heartstrings, because even now, he’s still fond through his nervousness. “Momo-chan, what is wrong with you, asking dumbass questions? My head hurts a little bit, I’m not nauseous, and I fell off the fucking fridge because you’re the one who pulled me off! Duh!”
The flash of guilt flickers on Kaito’s face, and it remains. “...Sorry.”
Kokichi pouts. “I mean, I was the one who climbed up there, so… um… don’t look so mad at yourself. I was just…” he blinks rapidly. “I was just trying to, uh.”
“Prove yourself, I know, I know,” Shuichi shushes him, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Kokichi’s temple. There’s guilt stabbing at him too—he’s part of the reason why Kokichi tried to do this in the first place, he should’ve known better than to spur him on the way he did—and he brushes a few stray hairs from his boyfriend’s forehead. “Ah. Fuck. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, Kaito and I were the ones who teased you, I’m so sorry— ”
“Saihara-chan, it’s fine,” Kokichi insists, side-eyeing him. Kaito is still gazing at his boyfriend intently, continuously searching for any sign of a concussion, anything to indicate anymore injuries, obviously still (rightfully) guilty.
“It’s not, you’re hurt.”
“Well, I was kinda stupid and climbed up there,” Kokichi mutters. “But! I’m not going to say it’s my fault. You were the ones who teased me, of course I had to prove my point! I’m not Ouma Kokichi if I don’t challenge myself to refute every single thing you guys say. So, thanks to you two, I’m about to die from a nosebleed and potential concussion!”
“I…” Kaito says, trailing off. His face relaxes. “Well, you’re still your snotty little self, that’s for sure.”
Shuichi feels like he can breathe again, leaning forward and pressing close to the side of Kokichi’s face, swallowing thickly as the entire scene plays again in slow motion inside of his head, like a movie. It was downright terrifying. Kokichi being squashed like a tiny bug is not something he would’ve liked to see. But Kokichi is not squished like a tiny bug (thank heavens), so Shuichi breathes him in and presses another lingering kiss to his temple.
“Seriously…” Shuichi sighs. “God. Don’t scare us like that ever again.”
“Right! I almost had a heart attack!” Kaito exclaims. “A-And, um, I’m sorry for pulling on you like that. It’s my fault you’re hurt. You fell because I pulled you.”
“Or maybe I was planning to fall anyway so you guys could fawn over me like you are now!” Kokichi says. Wait—what. Kaito and Shuichi’s eyes widen almost comically, eliciting a snort from their smallest boyfriend. “Kidding! Am I? I don’t know, it’s up to you whether you think I’m lying or not. This attention on me feels good either way!”
Shuichi smiles fondly, shakes his head. This entire situation is enough to never make him bring up Kokichi’s height again, in case something like this happens anytime soon in the future. Shuichi does not want his little boyfriend to die for some stupid reason. Please.
Kaito grumbles. “You’re annoying. Now I have to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t end up having a secret concussion or anything. Jeez, just how much trouble can you get into?” He quiets when Kokichi’s eyes narrow. “No, don’t answer that.”
“Why are you even talking to me right now? I think a lowly peasant such as you shouldn’t be speaking to me so freely, especially after what you’ve done to me,” Kokichi says, poking Kaito in the chest with his finger, voice nasally from the tissues still pressed against his nose. “I think you both owe me!”
“Aw, man,” Shuichi says in faux exasperation, smiling softly. “Right, that’s only fair. What do you want from us?”
Kokichi hums in thought, before perking up, a smile flashing on his face. “I think Momota Kaito should give me all of his money, buy me some more drones, get me a brand new phone, stop being annoying to me, stop kissing me because he’s stinky... yeah!”
Kaito gapes. “Wait, huh, what? Why didn’t you mention Shuichi at least once? This isn’t fair!”
“Because Shumai is nicer to me, and he doesn’t stink like you do? Maybe Momo-chan should just shut up and take a shower or something, y’know?”
Shuichi can’t hold back a peal of laughter as Kaito threatens to break Kokichi’s nose, Kokichi obnoxiously sticking his tongue out as he tugs on Kaito’s ear.
(He is very smitten, and very thankful Kokichi is alive and un-squashed.)
-
“U-Um, if he does have a concussion, isn’t it bad to let him sleep? People with head injuries shouldn’t sleep,” Shuichi whispers, fingers threading through Kokichi’s purple locks from where the boy’s head is resting on his lap.
Kaito, on the opposite end of the couch and having Kokichi’s feet sprawled on his lap, taps his fingers against Kokichi’s foot absentmindedly. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have one. I mean, I wasn’t planning to sleep soon, so I could keep an eye on him.”
Shuichi’s eyes narrow, sleepy as well, but the movie they’re watching isn’t over yet. He hums softly, continuing to stroke Kokichi’s hair, corners of his lips twitching as the boy lets out a particularly loud snore (still a bit quiet, though, because Kaito is the loudest sleeper of the three). “No, you should go to sleep. There… was a lot to deal with today, anyway.”
He and Kaito spent the rest of the day catering to Kokichi’s needs, pampering him to make up for the fact that they were a direct cause for Kokichi falling off of their refrigerator. Said refrigerator is up and running again, only sustaining damage to the inside where their food suffered and splattered everywhere (Kokichi took the liberty of forcing the rest of them to clean it up).
They settled down in the evening for their movie night, Kokichi picking an English movie that he seemed to be enjoying the most out of the three of them, but honestly, Shiuchi would do anything to hear him laugh the way he does in his little obnoxious way. Kaito is no different, loving eyes concealed by mock annoyance, fondness tucked behind retaliating remarks. Kokichi, despite being the one to pick the movie, crashed first; throwing himself over the both of them and lying down, head in Shuichi’s lap and feet in Kaito’s. He fell asleep perhaps half an hour in, giggles fading out to soft snores.
Kaito massages Kokichi’s feet gently. “Huh. Not that I’d admit it to the annoying little shit, but fuck, I was scared. I pulled him forward at the last second while he was falling. I thought for sure the fridge was going to crush him because of me.”
Shuichi can recall seeing Kaito yank Kokichi towards him as the fall occurred, etched into his memory. “Yeah, I remember seeing that happen. Um. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Stuff like this is inevitable as long as he exists.”
“Yeah. I’m just,” Kaito breathes a sigh. “Happy, kinda? That we can still all get along like this, after everything. That we can settle. Be with each other. Fuck, that sounds really gross and sappy, but—”
“I get it.” Shuichi glances down at Kokichi, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Hopefully his dreams tonight are good ones. We’ve all been having less nightmares, y’know?”
“Yep. I’m thankful,” Kaito mutters, smile mirroring Shuichi’s as he glances at him, and then his gaze falls to Kokichi. “Even… if every object in this place, even our fridge, is in danger.”
Shuichi blinks slowly, exhaustion claiming his body and sleep clouding his vision. He chuckles softly at Kaito’s comment—and Kokichi is warm, he acknowledges, even though every single second spent with both of them is warm and full of starlight and moments that make his heart absolutely burst.
(And if their fridge has secretly sustained hidden damage or something, he’s pretty certain he can speak for Kokichi as well then he says Kaito is going to be the one to pay to get it fixed.)
#danganronpa#danganronpa v3#drv3#shuichi x kokichi#kokichi x kaito#shuichi x kaito#kokichi x shuichi x kaito#kokichi ouma#saihara shuichi#ouma kokichi#kaito momota#danganronpa fanfiction#danganronpa fanfic#fluff#danganronpa fluff#ao3#fanfic
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Riverbound, Chapter 3
You are THE GUARDIAN again, and you feel like a whole army of Chuck Norris clones used you as their punching bag.
This in itself is not out of the usual, given your lifestyle and who you are as a person, but when you try and move to get up a stabbing pain tears down your left side. You suck in a sharp breath, which also turns out to be a horrible idea as your broken ribs scream profanity into your soul. God damn it, what-
Everything comes back to you before you even finish that thought.
The cholerbear. Somebody saved you, and then… brought you somewhere?
You force your eyes open. The ceiling is spotted with bioluminescent fungi that fascinates you into almost ignoring your wounds. A blanket is draped over your body, which is nice because it’s kind of cold in here.
A jade green blanket.
Wait, is this…?
Something lifts from your lower shoulder, and you look over to see a familiar handsome face staring back. His slow smile lights up the whole room.
“Lanque,” you get out.
“The one and only. Welcome back to the land of the living, darling,” he says softly.
Despite the massive amount of pain you’re in you can’t help but grin right back. Lanque had been one of the last friends you had made on Alternia, and while you two weren’t best buddies or anything you’d ended up being his unofficial date every time he needed somebody to go with to a party. The first time was to make it up to him for snitching to Bronya, and then it just kind of snowballed from there. You needed somebody to show you how to have a good time, and he needed somebody to help drag his drunk ass back to the caverns in the morning. It was a perfect symbiotic relationship.
“I’d give you a hug, but I can’t really move right now. Did you save me?” you ask.
He shook his head. “No. Lynera found you nearby after a cholerbear threw you into a tree. You needed stitches so she came and got me.”
Stitches? Damn. Carefully, you reach over and feel your side. From the bottom of your armpit to about one-quarter of the way down your side was a bandage, and underneath the bandage you can feel something thick holding the broken skin together. It’s so sore to the touch you instantly regret moving at all.
Lanque scowls and bats your arm away. “Don’t, I worked hard on that. Two of your ribs are broken on the same side, too, so don’t even think about trying to run off again.”
“Yessir,” you snipe nasally, doing your best imitation of a freshly-recruited private responding to their drill sergeant. Lanque gives you a look that would have killed a lesser Guardian.
Something about what he just said finally gets processed in your brain. An extremely important question almost has you leaping off the couch in a panic as you fully turn to face him, wincing as you do so. “Oh, shit! Lanque, you were the last person I saw before I disappeared, right? How long have I been gone?”
Dark green eyes widen almost comically. “You mean you don’t know?”
“No, I don’t know, why would I ask if I don’t frickin’ know?” you snarl.
“It…” Lanque shakes his head. “Babe, it’s been nearly six perigees.”
Six perigees? That was over a full fucking year! “I what?! Please say sike, dude, I am begging you. Lanque, no.”
A large hand splays out across your chest and pushes you back down into the couch. “Stay. Down. It’s been six perigees, four weeks, and three nights since you disappeared. I know because Daraya keeps count.”
“Oh my God, I’m gonna go find a nice ray of sunshine and roast myself to death,” you moan. “I can’t believe I fucked up that bad.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened to you, but I know that whatever happened wasn’t your fault. I know you never would have left us on purpose,” Lanque insists.
You grab the pillow closest to you and scream into it for ten seconds straight. Then, you fluff it out and put it back where it was.
After you take a couple more deep breaths, you move on to the next most important thing. “You said Lynera saved me from the Cholerbear? She wasn’t injured, was she?”
Lanque snorts. “Of course not. Any animal with half a brain cell knows to not mess with us. Where there’s a jadeblood, there’s a cloister not too far away.”
“Good.” If somebody had gotten injured because you were being stupid you would have never been able to forgive yourself. “Thanks for stitching me up.”
“You’re more than welcome. Don’t make me have to do it again.”
“No promises.”
Lanque rolls his eyes, but there’s no exasperation behind it. He doesn’t meet your gaze, either, even when you turn your head to fully look at him.
“What?” you finally ask.
“... What happened to you?”
He’s being patient, and you appreciate that. Not just anybody got to see this side of Lanque.
You then begin to realize how badly all of your friends will want to know why the hell you up and dropped off the face of Alternia.
“Isn’t that the million dollar question?” you say, morbidly amused by your entire situation. “It’s a hell of a story. I want to tell it with everybody here, though, because I only want to have to tell it once. Some parts are going to be really bad and I will cry and make it awkward for everybody.”
Lanque nods, staring off to somewhere far away.
“And once my ribs heal, we’ll go crash some rich fuck’s party like old times. I’ll introduce you to some of my other friends, too. I think you and Tagora would get along famously,” you add.
One corner of his lips twitches.
“He’s a lawyer and one of the slimiest bitches I know on this planet. One time at his hive, I put on this lotion that made my skin glow, because I could, and he took me outside so I could see the full effect. His black crush lives nearby and walks up to Tagora to antagonize him or whatever. He didn’t see me until I was like ten feet away because he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He, his name is Galekh, and he’s this huge indigo guy,” you start giggling like an idiot even though your ribs feel like they’re actively trying to escape your body. “He took off running and shrieking like a wiggler. That dumbass thought I was a rainbow drinker.”
That did it. Lanque fell over, muffling his laughter into a pillow.
The fact you got Lanque Bombyx to crack up over some stupid story was well worth the agony in your side, but you decided calming down was the best course of action before you passed out again. You still couldn’t stop smiling, though.
It’s a couple of minutes before the two of you can look at each other without losing it. God, you had missed this so much. Just… hanging out with somebody you cared about because you could, not because you were being the puppet of some god, or because you were a lonely little gremlin with nothing better to do.
Lanque chills out when he sees you flinch every time you snicker. “Alright, darling, you got me. It’s good to have you back; it’s all dreadfully boring when you’re not around.”
“Call me the mitochondria, because I’m the powerhouse of this cell,” you agree.
“I have no idea what that means, but sure. Listen, Lynera went to go get the others just before you woke up, so I think-”
A door slams in the distance, and by the sound of it it’s the one in the closest stairwell. The echo of swift pattering feet follows.
“Good timing,” you say, but your mouth is dry.
Lanque nods and squeezes your shoulder.
The lock on the study door turns. Lynera slips in, sees that you’re awake, and she covers her mouth as her pretty eyes fill with tears. She’s here, and right behind her are Bronya, Daraya, and Wanshi.
If it wasn’t for Lanque holding you back you know your stupid ass would have launched right off the couch to run to them. You must look like shit, sweaty and bloodstained and countless little scratches everywhere. There’s a new scar on your exposed right forearm from when Dirk tried to teach you how to swordfight. Your hair has grass in it, and you’re pretty sure you lost an alarming amount of weight during your travels. Whoops.
The first one to move is Bronya, who comes forward to stand beside Lynera, whispering your name like she can hardly believe what she’s seeing. She’s still regal and beautiful, and you smile when you notice her increasingly anxious gaze flit across the cuts, the bruises and blood.
Wanshi’s jaw is pretty much on the floor. Wait a damn minute, is she taller now? Is she… no way. She’s up to Daraya’s shoulders. Your baby grew up while you were gone.
She grew up, and you weren’t there, and fuck, you think you’re going to cry-
Lanque signals for her to come over, and she obeys while furiously blinking back tears. She grabs his outstretched hand first before taking yours. Delicately, with a cautiousness you’ve never seen in a kid that young, she climbs over your legs to curl up next to you on your good side. You wrap an arm around her and pull her close. Her hands form fists in your hoodie.
You look up, and Daraya is still staring at you.
Please come here, honey, please. I won’t leave you again.
“Daraya,” you rasp.
Abruptly, she stiffens, sucking in a shaky breath, and then she’s storming over to you with her fangs bared. She goes down on her knees with a thump that would have easily broken a human leg. The sound rattles in your jaw.
You reach out to her, and then she’s wrapping both arms around you and sobbing hysterically. Christ, you’ve never heard anybody cry like that before. It sends shards of cold metal raking through your chest. They hurt more than a broken rib ever could.
Your face is wet with tears, too, but it feels damn good to let it out.
:::
For a long while you just let these kids cry on you, and sometimes you’re awake and sometimes you’re in that gray area between consciousness and sleep. You hear Bronya and Lynera talking to themselves about something, but you’re too out of it to care, and if something juicy was going on you trusted Lanque to fill you in on the tea.
“Psst. Hey.”
You smile and crack open an eye. “Hey yourself.”
Wanshi stares at you in awe, her cheek squished up against your stomach. “I can’t believe we’re in Lynera’s study. Lanque always told me she kept dead bodies in here, but I don’t see any.”
You side-eye Lanque, who gives you his best disarmingly attractive grin. Unfortunately, it works.
Daraya raises her head and wipes away some smudged mascara. “No, that would be too obvious. She totally keeps the bodies in the empty seadweller pools.”
“Guys, come on,” you protest.
Wanshi sticks her tongue out at you, and Daraya snickers wetly into your hoodie.
“... Like, really? If I was a jadeblood, and I killed somebody, why would I keep the body in the caverns?” you ask as seriously as you can.
All three of them turn away to pretend to cough into their sleeves when Bronya and Lynera look over at the sound of Daraya letting out the most undignified snort you’ve ever heard. You accidentally giggle as well and let out a pained squeak when your side flares in response.
The two head jades are on you in a flash.
“Alright, you three, quit it,” Bronya orders, but she’s smiling, too. “The faster their ribs heal, the sooner they can rejoin us and their other friends. How are you feeling?”
“Like the time I met Nihkee Moolah at a muscular theatre event and she wiped the floor with my carcass,” you tell her cheerfully. “Actually, that hurt way worse, so I think I’m good.”
“... That sounds like you had a very interesting night.”
“Oh, it was.”
Lynera peered worriedly from around Bronya’s shoulder. “We’re so happy to have you back, but… why did you have to go?”
“I didn’t want to,” you sigh. “I was kidnapped.”
Five pairs of reflective yellow eyes snap to you in a heartbeat.
“You what?” Lynera shrieked. Lanque hisses at her to be quiet, and she glares at him before sitting down next to a wide-eyed Daraya.
Looking at your friends, you realize that in order to tell the entire story you would have to start from the end, not the beginning. “Look, what I’m about to tell you… it’s going to sound completely insane. But I swear on whatever trolls hold holy that I am telling the truth.”
Bronya’s lips part, like she wants to say something, but then she just nods.
So you tell them.
No matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to tell them everything-- the fact that you’re now the First Guardian of this universe, or how you pulled it away from the rest of the universe to protect it, or the extent of Ultimate Dirk’s full power. You also don’t tell them about the rebellion they’re about to fight in, and how only fifteen sweeps in the future their names will be erased from history, only to be remembered in the most secretive of documents.
You do tell them about meeting your other friends on Earth, as well as your adventures on future Alternia. You tell them about how you saved both planets from playing a deadly game that would have destroyed both civilizations. You even manage to explain the extent of Doc Scratch’s manipulation, the abuse you endured at his hands, how you eventually escaped and lost your memory in the process.
This part totally fucks with the trolls. Wanshi dives under the blanket when you recall the mirrors on all of the hallway walls that watched you like eyes, no matter where you went in that hellish dimension. Bronya and Lynera look absolutely horrified. Daraya starts staring at a pillow resting on your leg like she wants to shred it to pieces. Lanque is stone-faced and still.
“... and so I finally get away from Ultimate Dirk, and then I go make sure Regular Dirk is okay, because he’s a good kid. Then I go make sure everybody else is okay. I was terrified that he or Scratch was going to come back and… hurt people.” You don’t mention how you then peaced back out to the void of space for who knew how long. “When I was certain that the kids were going to be okay I decided to see if I could still go back in time to see you guys. And I could.”
A long, long moment of silence follows that.
Daraya is, of course, the first one to break it. “... Holy fucking shit.”
“Daraya, language,” Bronya growls, but her eyes are haunted.
“Yeah, I’m going to need a drink after this,” Lanque mutters, viciously scrubbing his face with both hands. “You’re telling me that the multiverse theory is correct, gods are real, and you have near absolute control of time and space.”
“Uh-huh. Wait, trolls have the multiverse theory too? Wow.” You made a mental note to tell that to Rose so she could have another excuse to talk with Kanaya.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. If any of those two monsters try and show up, I’ll shove all of my knives through their throats,” Lynera snarls, tearing holes in the cushion she’s gripping with her claws.
Wanshi stirs from underneath the blankets, and one little hand shoots into the air to give you a thumbs-up.
You smile and pat her arm. “Don’t worry, I don’t think they’ll be coming for me again. They had their fun.”
Bronya sighs heavily and claps her hands together. “Well, it’s late morning, and I know Daraya and Wanshi have class tomorrow-”
Wanshi shrieks in protest and Daraya turns to face her leader with an ugly glare. “But-!”
“No buts! We’ll all take turns keeping an eye on our friend while they recover. I know we’re all very excited to have them back, and perhaps you can use that as motivation to work harder during schoolfeeding so you can come visit as soon as you can,” Bronya declared. Her tone left no room for arguments.
Reluctantly, Wanshi and Daraya disentangle themselves from you and gave you the longest hugs of your life.
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” you promise. “Study hard, okay?”
Wanshi sniffles and nods, and you give her hand a squeeze before she shuffles away to wait for Daraya by the door.
You reach out for Daraya and pull her into another embrace. She squeaks, a little caught off guard, but you hold her tight and whisper in her ear.
“Text Tyzias.”
She freezes, finally understanding. “Got it.”
You watch her go, proud as hell when you see her hold herself a little higher than when she came in. Bronya clasps your hands and does the same. The strain of holding it together for everybody else must have exhausted her, you think guiltily. You vow to be as small of a burden on your friends as absolutely possible.
Lanque is the last to leave. He doesn’t say anything, but he does gently smooth the hair back from your face before heading out the door, turning the lights off as he goes. Your stomach flips around itself like a slinky.
You try really hard to not think about that, and also the fact that he was the one to cut away at your sports bra so he could stitch you up. Yes, you know about that. Yee-haw. Oh, hey, the ceiling has a crack in it.
Lynera calls your name from the other end of the study. “Do you need more blankets?”
“No, thank you, though!” You’re already falling back asleep. Everything that just happened over the course of the night hits you at once, leaving you utterly drained.
The sound of something big being dragged over stone catches your attention before you can fall asleep. You look back to see Lynera in her nightgown-- she must have changed in the bathroom-- hauling a recuperacoon over to the couch.With practiced ease, she hops up and slips into the hole at the top.
“Good morning,” she murmurs. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
In that moment, you knew that everything you went through to return to your friends was worth it. The injuries, the loneliness, the trauma. It was all worth it. You were sure of that.
You close your eyes and let yourself be happy, just for a little while. “Me too. Good morning, Lynera.”
#hiveswap#Hiveswap Friendsim trolls#homestuck#MSPA reader#The Guardian#jadebloods#this chapter was so much fun to write#lol#c3#riverbound
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Shklance -- Protectors (Demon AU)
To start, thanks for the kind messages this last week, guys. I will try to thank ya’ll individually later today, but I wanted to make sure I did it at some point, in case I forget. You guys are incredible and have no idea how much those messages helped me get through last week.
Okay, this is short, late, probs not very good (trust me, I hate myself for this just as much as anyone else could). But I am determined to keep up with my goal, even if I’ve missed it a couple of times. I’m gonna do this. Unfortunately, last week was a mess of trying to recover from my vacation, catching back up on assignments, literally the following Monday we got back started the last week of midterms, which is when I apparently had most of mine, plus my husband got in a car accident so now I’m having to get myself (and him) up even earlier than I usually do for classes so I can take him to work in the next town over and then come back for my classes, and then I have to pick him up when I get off work. In short, guys, I’m leaving the apartment at 6 every morning and getting back at 11 or 12, and then I have homework before I can go to bed and do it again. I’m tired.
Also done complaining. For now XD
ON THE STORY: Okeiiii so this is part of a demon au I forgot I did? Apparently it has two parts, Despair and Kindhearted. I’m pretty sure that’s the order they go in, too, so 5 points to Gryffindor for that. Anyway, here’s another piece!
-------------------------------
Shiro sprung from the couch, instantly overcome with an overwhelming urge to throw up. He rushed to the nearest bathroom, focused on his need to rid himself of the roiling in his gut, but was foiled by his boyfriend, who was already leaning over the toilet. Talking hurt, but Shiro managed.
“What the hell is this?” Keith shook his head, turning after a moment to speak with Shiro, but he had already fled to their other bathroom. Really, though, Shiro had a point. There wasn’t much that could knock down a demon like that. The last time he remembered it happening was whenever they accidentally…
“SHIRO!” Keith stumbled to his feet, weak and shaky. “Where the hell is Lance?!”
There was a silence before Keith heard a clamber, the slamming of a door, frantic steps coming from their bedroom. Keith launched himself in the same direction he knew Shiro was taking, and, sure enough, they met each other in front of Lance’s door. Shiro hesitated before he gently nudged it open to expose the emptiness behind it. Keith checked his phone. It was after 11, way later than Lance usually tried to stay out when he had a major test in the morning.
They’d spent all day studying for their midterms the next day.
“I thought he went out with Pidge and Hunk?” Shiro broke Keith out of his quickly-growing-frantic thoughts.
Keith bit his lip. “They’d be able to take care of him and make sure Haggar and her witches stay away from him, right? I mean, it took us so long to figure out what was happening to him…”
They made eye contact, their concern mirroring the other’s. Shiro sighed, “Well, he is still extraordinarily clumsy; I’m sure that’s all it was…” But he sounded unsure, and they both knew that probably wasn’t what had happened. Keith groaned.
The next fifteen minutes were some of the worst Keith had ever experienced. They spent most of it on their phones, desperately calling and texting Hunk, Pidge, and Lance himself. With each vacant ring, they found themselves tensing more and more. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before they heard shuffling at the door, and they both flung themselves in that direction. Though somehow Shiro managed to “fling” himself much more slowly and carefully. Keith didn’t give a fuck. He was going to find their human.
Upon reaching the door, Keith barely even paused before he swung it open, both shocked and unsurprised to find Lance cradled carefully in Hunk’s sure arms. “What happened?” he demanded, rushing to relieve Hunk of the precious weight.
“Someone spiked his drink.” Pidge’s grim reply, coupled with flashing eyes, made Shiro’s tail lash from its bindings, black smoke swirling around his hands.
“Nothing happened to him,” Hunk rushed.
Shiro stared incredulously. “Are you kidding me? He can’t even focus on what we’re saying right now!”
Hunk winced. Pidge didn’t even blink, the stupid little gremlin. Her second set of eyes opened, making the stare down twice as intense. “But he’s safe, he’s whole, and nobody hurt him. He’s home now, and you and Keith are going to take care of him. Right?”
Keith bristled at the challenge. “I’d like to see someone try and stop us!” As he turned to whisk Lance upstairs, Hunk stopped him.
“Keith… take care of him, all right? He’s important to me.”
A solemn nod. “Hunk, I would die again before I let anything happen to Lance, I swear to you.” A whisper of black smoke rose from his mouth at the words, and Shiro shook his head. “Keith, you are lucky demons aren’t actually bound to their promises, you moron.”
Keith gasped indignantly, though they could all hear the laughter hiding in his voice when he responded with, “Take that back, you fluffy wombat! I would absolutely die for Lance, and you can’t stop me!”
Hunk’s giggles were cut off when Lance began to stir, whimpering lightly in protest at… something. Keith had no idea. He shot Shiro a panicked look.
“All right, Hunk, Pidge. Thank you for bringing him back. We’ll have him call you tomorrow to let you know how everything turned out, don’t worry. For now, we need to get him taken care of.” And with a quick round of goodbyes, their friends saw themselves out while Shiro turned to his boys. And yes. They were his boys. Even if 50% of them didn’t know they were, Shiro would be blessed before he would let anyone hurt either of them. He put a hand on Keith’s lower back, guiding him and their lovely boy to their room, where they could easily keep an eye on Lance and make sure he recovers from whatever drug he had been given. Nothing else mattered.
They had a human to take care of.
#shklance#shklance fic#takashi shirogane#keith kogane#lance mcclain#vld#vld fic#voltron#voltron legendary defender#voltron fic#demon au#supernatural au#demon!shiro#demon!keith#gremlin!pidge#idk what hunk is#human!lance#protect lance#protective shiro#protective keith#the word protective looks weird now is this what crack is like#ummmm#soft keith#but still angry and murderous#cause keith#mywriting#my writing#jessi rambles
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DBHI: Redemption- "The Open Door", pt. 2
ARE YOU A FAN OF DETROIT? DO YOU LIKE GAY SHIPS AND COMPLICATED, LOVEABLE BOYS?? Then please keep up with our fic, you’ll love it, I promise!
(Chapter art by dark_dumb)
**Co-authored by grayorca15
Characters: Trevor Langley, Dylan Fleur, Dennis Lenore (mentions of Rhea Fleur, Dahlia Fleur, Spencer, Nicodemus) Word Count: 8,354
Trevor finds the wayward Fleur sibling and discovers there's a lot more to the boy than rumors let on.
• Archive link • Chapter Index • • Related Works • Characters •
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July 4th, 2041 - 7:56 PM
The appearance of the elusive gremlin was as unsurprising as it was surprising, just as he both was and wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting. His honey-brown skin, auburn red hair, and generous number of freckles pegged him a Fleur without a doubt, but compared to the rest of his kin (including the youngest boys), he was certainly the most informally-dressed. Typical of most art students, he favored comfort over fashion, while still maintaining some sort of hipster style. A loose gray v-neck shirt under a long-sleeved black cardigan that hung down to his calves, obscured the waistline of a pair of slim-cut, tattered jean-shorts (spotted from years of dry-brushing to switch colors) down to his knees. About five different black corded necklaces of varying length, set both tight and loose over black-inked tattoos splayed around the back and sides of his neck, completed the picture of the family ‘black sheep’ in exhausting detail. Though most worrisome was the ever-growing smirk twitching its way into his cheeks the longer he stared at the newcomer that had knowingly breached the boundary of his territory. It didn’t bode well for anyone trying to not get roped into upcoming shenanigans. “If you’ve got a thing for redheads, you’re in the right place, but she’s already spoken for,” Fleur teased as he snapped one more rubber band into the side of his shoulder. Trev stared him down but didn’t bother affecting a scowl or a flinch, having seen it coming. “I know, so your warning is hereby rendered painfully redundant,” he stated with a tilt of his head, still preoccupied with studying the young man’s appearance. “Yeah…?” The boy’s brows twitched with a soft pop between the eyes, a misdirect for the extra stretch taken to grin. “Then who’re you?” A simple enough question, except when it wasn’t. Trev only bothered with crossing his arms. He wasn’t about to launch into that topic all over again with the family outcast. “A guest of Detective Lenore. So you can see why I am in the know of his and - Miss Fleur’s association.” After letting that information sink in for a moment, he added, “And I needed a break from the company, in part because of it-” The rubber band on the tip of his finger stretched back, poised to fire, but it halted when he instead gave a half laugh and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I could tell- I heard you coming a mile away,” he commented before letting the band fly, this time flinging across his visitor’s other shoulder. “Those hurried, annoyed steps really carry in here when you’ve got two wooden blocks in your soles.” “Very astute observation,” Trev retorted, eyes narrowing, slowly coming around to the thought of disliking this one’s company as well. As if the arm-folding wasn’t hint enough. “That said, me and my hurried, annoyed steps will just be going, then.” Predictably enough, the moment he tried stepping away, another band zinged toward him. He stopped short just in time for it to wing by his nose, having anticipated it.
“It only gets more peopley the further you get toward that side of the house,” Fleur informed as he loaded another rubber band, tilted his head, and squinted skeptically. “Didn’t you say you wanted a break from that…?” “Yes, well, your mansion is so small, I went looking for no one and still ran into you.” The redhead pursed his lips, clicked his tongue, and chuckled with a coy grin. “Sure you weren’t just drawn here by my charm? I’ve been told it’s magnetic.” “More like repulsive, so I’ll just be on my-“ Trev happened to look away at just the wrong time- the next rubber band clipped him right across the forehead, harder than the rest. Expecting the boy to look as cross as he felt, Trevor huffed and turned back to find him on the verge of bubbling over with laughter, chest rattling with only the faintest hint of a wheeze. Exasperation didn’t begin to describe the feeling the sight evoked. “What are you- stop that,” he demanded, patience finally worn thin enough to warrant a reaction. “C’moooon…” Fleur drawled as he primed another rubber band and rolled his head against the wall he’d been leaning on, ankles crossed and shoulders slumped. He creased his brow and turned muddied green eyes to regard him, and from somewhere behind the couldn’t-care-less façade flashed a moment of sympathetic candor. “You really wanna go back to all that weird family bullshit…?”
The accuracy of his assumption caught him off guard, but considering they were the only two people in the house actively trying to avoid the festivities, it wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion to draw; however, it was his choice of words that grabbed his attention. “Weird family bullshit” at an event thrown primarily for friends was entirely too specific. No, he thought with a small pout. He didn’t want to go back to it. Trev knew the last thing he wanted was to be needled and patted on the head and told everything would work itself out. All he had to do was ‘chin up and smile and play along’. They made it sound so disgustingly easy. Standing here letting himself be a target of another sort was hardly better, but in a way, this cursory annoyance was easier to bear. Trev’s fingers curled into fists and he let his arms drop from their folded position, shoulders hunched in clear aggravation. “Say I do. Are you going to follow me all the way back?” Undeterred, another shot snapped Trev across the hip, causing him to flinch and flare his nostrils. “Sure you wouldn’t rather do something fun instead…?” “I have my own idea of fun, and it doesn’t involve-“ Another shot slapped across the back of his hand before he could finish the thought, and he yelped quietly and yanked it out of the way a split second too late. “...rubber BANDS, for starters. “Then let’s do something else, ya wet blanket,” Fleur suggested in a mocking tone. “I am, I’m leaving, something you can’t-“ Another popped him square in the middle of the forehead. “Seem to-” Followed by another in the neck. “Grasp- for the love of- KNOCK IT OFF!” “Ah ah ah-” the man scolded with a smirk as he impudently wagged a finger and loaded another rubber band. “The punishment will continue until morale improves.” Trevor’s lip curled, the corner of his eye twitched in irritation and one finger lifted in idle threat as he warned, as calmly as he could manage, “If you keep shooting those at me, I am well within my rights to confiscate them as evidence of-“ But it only served to embolden his assailant’s taunting. One, two, three, then four pelted him in rapid succession, leaving Trevor flinching, backstepping, and sidestepping, as he attempted to block every last one. “-haraSSMENT!” The second half of his threat stuttered out with an angry huff. “Go ahead and try,” his opponent laughed, “But be warned, I have worse things in my pockets that’ll find their way onto your clothes before you can get to them.” As that constituted a fair warning, a second scanning look with a few extra filters layered on confirmed as much. His heads-up-display outlined about a dozen round objects filled with some sort of liquid, stuffed into the deep outside pockets of his cardigan, as well as a few unconventional inner pockets. Trev grimaced and shook his head at the sight, less perturbed by what the contents could be than the fact his mind engaged such programs on automatic -depending on the input given, like Fleur admitting to being armed for mischief- without his consent. Of course it would scan to see what concealed weapons there might be. Convenient as those features were, sometimes he missed the days when he was too naïve to have ever been aware of those programs. But now that they’d come to an impasse, he couldn’t get closer, as much as he couldn’t walk away- “non-negotiable nonsense”, as Spencer might have called it. Coining such a term to describe the paradox which typically triggered a deviant break had been astute of him. Trev’s expression soured at the reminder, and he turned away. “Go find someone else to pelt and laugh at. I’m-“ The redheaded, squinting blue-eyed face he almost stepped into stopped him cold. “You’re what, Langley? Off to places unknown?” He turned to hide the embarrassment flushing into his cheeks but found himself stuck between two people he didn’t want to speak to. Naturally someone had come looking when he didn’t return with a fresh drink like he’d claimed to have left for, and of course, that person was Dennis. Better go find your missing puppy, Lenore, before he trips and falls down a foxhole, Trev retorted inwardly. Interestingly enough, his company also seemed perturbed by Dennis’ sudden arrival. The Fleur rolled his eyes and exhaled a loud sigh. “Go away, Den,” he muttered as he turned his whole body and leaned back with his shoulders flat against the wall, slight tension evident in his tone and body language. The boy’s fingers stiffened and his jaw clenched as the Detective peered over at him from behind Trev’s shoulder. Not that Langley was curious enough to ask, but there was clearly more to the story there. At least, for now,, they could agree on finding Lenore’s presence a bother, albeit for different reasons. “Hmph. Knew you’d bite if I brought bait.” His choice of adjective was enough to get a raised eyebrow out of Trevor, if not a revolted frown. He did not appreciate the notion of having been brought anywhere without being told he was the lure in a given plan; but then again, Dennis couldn’t have counted on him getting fed up and walking away. Or had he? After a pause, he glanced back at his mentor and adjusted his frames in nervous habit. “I’m sorry, sir. I was on my way back before this one decided it was worth wasting time to interrupt me-” The next rubber band whizzed past him with a sharp fwip, picking up enough speed to make sure it would hit Dennis right in the chest. Olive green eyes leered over at him from the direction it had come. “Told you once, Detective- you’re not my type.” “Yeah…? Well, what about this one?” A thumb and a loosely closed fist gestured toward a slightly flustered Trev (who sputtered a surprised look of protest and puffed his cheeks) as Lenore took a few steps forward to stand next to him. The boy exhaled long and slow in response, eyes rolling even further into the back of his head before closing completely. “Still deciding,” he mumbled in blatant annoyance. “But I don’t need you to go shoppin’ around for friends for me.” “No, you probably don’t- but this one is a cut above the other kids you’ve been hangin’ around, even if he’s a tough one to crack. You think you could loosen him up? Without getting any of that stuff on the floor?” This much confirmed the balloons definitely weren’t full of water. Trev frowned again, only this time it was out of bewilderment. “What ‘stuff’ do you mean?” The boy sighed with an audible groan and turned to face them, pushing himself up on the wall to stand up straight. “I’m tryin’, but he’s not makin’ it easy,” he retorted as he shifted his weight and snapped another one at his thigh, at which Trev jumped aside with a half shrieked ‘STOP IT!’ Politeness be damned, this was getting to be too much, too fast. Dennis’ expression shifted from exasperated to something like smug as he glanced between them. Over what was the question. He looked like someone who had just discovered a reason to be proud of some unintended brilliance; or, much more likely, he was only making that face as to further addle the situation. “I could tell you, but that’d ruin the surprise.” The creeping grin returned, smaller than it was before, as he threw Dennis a skeptical squint laced with curiosity. “What a mood you’re in…” Fleur commented impishly, as if he was reluctant to see him go. “Why can’t you be this fun all the time?” Before he could answer or Trev could protest, he let one last band snap across his target’s neck, harder than he had yet, and braced himself for the impending reaction. A foot chase was the last thing Langley thought he would be doing tonight, but enough was enough. He had hit his threshold for dealing with irritation, however low or high said bar was set that day. Words clearly weren’t going to stop this assault, so the next best thing to do was make it stop. “I warned you- MULTIPLE times...” Trevor hissed as he stormed over, reached for his sleeve before he could get too far, aiming for the pocket from which most of that ammo had been drawn. “Now hand, them, over-!” But Fleur was far more nimble than he’d anticipated, and reflexively stepped back in the half-second before Trev could get a secure grip. With a low chuckle of delight, he blitzed out of the way of Trev’s hand, dipped under his arm and bolted through the door of the room he’d been in and out of all night, the hem of his cardigan flapping in the wind draft behind him. With a disgruntled sound somewhere between a groan and a shout, Trev rushed after him. Dennis might have said something to the effect of “mind the floors”, but in that moment all Langley was really interested in was a bit of payback. Secret weapon or not, if anything went his way he would get every one of those remaining rubber bands and stretched them until they- Langley stopped cold in the threshold as a water balloon struck him in the chest and exploded in a canary yellow mess all over his burgundy jacket, splashing a few large drops over his shoulder into his hair and into the hallway. Trevor held his breath until he could feel the thick liquid seeping into his shirt and dripping down his blazer. “What in the-” Paint. The little devil had filled them with PAINT, because of course he did. “I warned you,” the redhead scolded in a sing-songy tone as he tossed another balloon between his hands and flashed him a coy grin. “Follow me, and you’ll only catch another,” he warned with a wink as he trotted back a few steps toward an open door at the back of what looked to be an enormous art studio, furnished just as chaotically as he looked. Trev grit his teeth and clenched his fists as his face flushed a darker shade of red than ever, inwardly mortified at what Dennis would think of the now-spattered suit. Now he really wasn’t going to let this stand unanswered. “I said, get back- hey!” One unfortunately-placed puddle of paint foiled a second attempt at catching his sleeve. Trev’s lunge stopped short as he slipped, and his hand caught empty air as the boy laughed and skipped out of the way; another balloon filled with indigo pigment splattered onto his shoulder as he broke the fall with his left hand and right knee. Some of the smaller splashes of yellow on his suit morphed into an unsightly mahogany brown as the new color mixed in with it. “Watch your step,” his quarry chimed from the doorway, just before he turned, sprinted out onto the veranda, and vaulted over the balcony railing with an effortless hop. Trev did his best to up and follow, not wasting his breath on more fruitless shouts, but the paint on the sole of his shoe made for poor traction. One leg skewed out from underneath him and he made a few scrambling steps before he caught his bearings, then pushed off from the floor with one hand and charged after him. His target was already halfway to the tree line and pulling away quickly by the time he’d reached the balcony. This shouldn’t have been any contest, but it was quickly turning into a farce of a chase, like a fox trying to outrun a hare that was armed with paint bombs to keep its pursuer’s traction down. “We’ll see about that,” he huffed as he hiked himself over the rail in one smooth motion, absorbed the landing with a deep crouch, and took off again. The mansion wasn’t close enough to the lakefront that he could see it at a distance, with all the bands of trees between them, but he could tell where Fleur was headed- the northwest-facing property put the backside exits pointing southeast toward Lake Saint Clair. His target knew the area well enough that he didn’t even slow as he turned to glance over his shoulder, then took a sharp left turn into the tree line off the stone path. The road was well-trodden but unpaved, and he was running barefoot through god knew what; but whatever grit and sticks might have been poking into his feet didn’t appear to slow Fleur down. For a moment Trev thought he’d lost sight of him until a particularly loud crack of blue lit up the sky and traced a form moving through the trees to his right. “Got you! Come here, you bloody…!” In the middle of nowhere among the foliage were several rope and tire swings, a stone fire pit, and two wooden park benches that looked like they’d been there a while... But no Fleur. Langley paused momentarily in the clearing, only to be blindsided from above by another balloon full of orange paint, now coloring his right thigh. With a protesting groan of “Oh, come on!”, he lunged for the boy as he dropped from his perch on the rope-swing platform and managed to snag a handful of his sweater before yanking him back in his direction. Fleur took an off-balance slide in the dirt with a wild look and bumped into him shoulder-to-chest, as Trev reached into the pockets of his cardigan and pulled out three pieces of ammunition with a triumphant “HA!” But he only smiled back with a devilish grin as a crack of red and white light illuminated the area with successive loud booms. “Hey now, aren’t you coming on a little strong?” he teased as he reached into one of the inner pockets. “Well, I’m not about to stick my hand down your trousers to see if-” A handful of bright green paint slapped across his cheek while he was only halfway through his snarking, leaving him furiously gawking for a moment long enough for his prey to escape, laughing all the way. Somehow, he felt like the supercilious hare going after the cunning fox, not the other way around. It only took a few seconds for his aim to calibrate the weight of the paint balloon, and calculate the trajectory and speed necessary to hit him at a distance, but when he’d finished he wound up like a major league ball-player and pitched it as hard as he could- successfully clipping Fleur’s arm in bright red paint. It wasn’t a direct hit, but he was trying to throw around all those sneaky trees. Finally, he had made his mark, and with Trev now holding the majority of what remained of the paint bombs, it meant he had the advantage. The hunt was on. Another couple minutes of running beneath an increasing amount of fireworks popping off overhead yielded another brief victory resulting from a misstep on (who by now he was pretty confident was) Dylan’s part. In the darkening twilight, in between bursts of flashing light, the maintenance shed managed to sneak up on him. Wide eyes turned to look for his pursuer but spotted him a moment too late. A balloon overfilled with white paint burst open with a particularly large splash, drenching his right hip in white gesso. “And that’s for my suit!” Trevor shouted in vengeful victory; but just when he thought he’d won, Fleur threw his head back against the hollow shed with a soft, clanging thud and let out a rolling laugh. Dumbstruck as he was by his behavior (because being covered in paint didn’t seem to bother him at all), he was quickly learning that this was typical of him. In fact, if Trev didn’t know any better, the way he smiled looked like he was saying ‘This is exactly what I wanted’. Too distracted by the nuance, if only for a moment, Trev didn’t even notice as Dylan slipped away and chucked one of the smaller balloons still in his pockets, and matched his last hit with a small splash of blue on his hip. “How many of these things do you HAVE!?” he half-shrieked in dismay as Dylan sprinted toward the lake, and began the chase anew. Ten minutes and another shot to his left leg after they’d started, and Trev was about ready to admit defeat and call it quits; but by now they were so far from the house and so deep in the woods, he couldn’t tell which way would lead back. Even if his internal map of the property had updated the further on they went, like the unexplored canvas of an open-world adventure game, there were still too many blank spots to get lost in. And he would rather not have Dennis have to assemble a search party to come find them; he hated being the center of anyone’s attention enough as it was. Heedless of their antics, the fireworks show launched into its third, loudest, most explosive phase yet. Wherever they were shooting them off from, it sounded close. He could hear the shrill whizzing, screaming, and shrieking of each payload as they propelled into the sky, and felt the explosive percussive blasts in his chest cavity like an uncomfortable pressure in his gut. Only so much of the bursts of light from the fireworks illuminated the undergrowth beneath the elms and oaks, but it was just enough for him to notice Fleur’s footprints had disappeared from the path. The tracks came to an abrupt halt after a sharp right off the trail, as if he had grown wings. In addition to being nimble and quick, it seemed he was also stealthy enough to get the drop on him, quite literally. Langley figured out where Dylan had gone (or rather, not gone) a second too late. Trevor barely had time to brace himself as the boy leaped from his perch in the tree above and tackled him to the ground. Wrestling for several moments just to get a grip on the squirrely foe, he finally rolled him over onto his back and gripped both hands in as many layers of clothing as he could, stood, and hurled him back toward the beaten path, harder than intended. For being so observant, he’d failed to account for how light Dylan was. The boy flew further and longer than he’d anticipated, arms and legs flailing almost comically as he tried to flip himself so he wouldn’t land on his head. His back and shoulders took the brunt of the landing, momentum absorbed by the damp soil as he hit, but he just took it in stride with a tuck and roll and sprinted along the lakeshore. Much to his dismay. It was unbelievable that he was still running. How could he have so much stamina when he looked like he only ate enough to keep his family off his back? With a long, tired sigh, Trev wound up with the last balloon he had, and threw it right at the back of his head, hitting him with enough force that it knocked Fleur clean off his feet. A stumbling face-first trip into the damp grass and sandy dirt of the marshy lakefront was all it took for him to decide he was finally too tired to continue. So instead of getting back up, he lay giggling on the ground for a few moments. But at least he hadn’t been hit by a rubber band or paint balloon in almost two whole minutes. “Now will you please leave me be...?” Trev whined after him. “I just - ugh.” Now that he didn’t have to worry about any surprise attacks, he took a moment to absorb the disheveled state he was in. Between the mud on his shoes, the paint streaks over his body gummed up with bits of leaves and shredded rubber, and the half-covered lenses of his glasses, it all added up to one conclusion: he was a hot mess, but that wasn’t really news. The only difference was, the outside now matched the inside. Trevor frowned. “This is terrible. You’ve ruined my only suit.” “Nah, it looks way better than it did when you got here...” Dylan joked with a beaming smile as he rolled over, sat up and ran a hand through the back of his hair to fling free as much of the dirt and paint as he possibly could. Too mentally and emotionally exhausted at the moment to protest, Trev caved and plopped down next to him on the beach. “That shit’s acrylic, it’ll wash out with water,” the freckled imp explained, gesturing to the lake as he leaned forward over bent knees, pulled a hard-earned cigarette from behind his ear, and lit it. Already Trev had started to paw and scratch at the green paint drying onto his jaw with a grimace. Beneath it was a cool tingling sensation, as his projected skin hadn’t yet reformed from the trauma of the impact. “C’mon… you really still wish you would have stayed inside? You’ve finally loosened up a little,” he scoffed and mumbled with the cigarette between his lips as he capped the lighter, then looked over at him with a small sigh and an expectant look. The faint cloud of smoke that puffed into his face stung his eyes and nose, but he cringed for another reason. Trev held his breath until it had passed before answering with a hearty dose of sarcasm. “It didn’t loosen anything up. If anything, I’m in an even better mood than I was before, only thanks to - oh, come on, it can’t have dried that fast!” The sarcasm gave way to real dismay. He rubbed at the bigger smear covering one eye and left an impressive track along the side of his face, though didn’t make any real progress to clean off any of it. The thought rankled instantly. “Are you happy now, then? Got what you were looking for?” “Yeah, actually,” Fleur confirmed as he tapped at the end of the cigarette and folded one arm over his knee, then directed a big grin his way. “You know- you’re not bad for a stick in the mud.” The sun was gone. The fireworks hadn’t stopped, they’d only changed in location- now instead of them launching from the Fleur estate, they’d begun firing off on the other side of the lake’s impressive horizon. For a few quiet minutes, they sat and watched the faraway spectacle, until Dylan brought up a sore subject, unintentionally. “Guess I should’ve figured you were an android if you came with Den and Dahlia.” To anyone else it was a casual enough observation. These days it tended to matter who was what just as much as it didn’t. Trev wasn’t so political about it as others were, owing to his seemingly-unique situation. Their opinions didn’t line up with his, but as much as it felt like the case most days (being an anomaly), he hated to think he was the only android who had ever been fooled so completely for so long. Nevertheless, daily reminders were bad enough without someone putting it into words. He cringed again as the skin projection finally dialed in on the missing portion along his jaw, feeling a faint spreading of warmth as the false epidermis melted back into place. It gave him away, if nothing else had up until this point. “Great. Just when I was starting to fool myself into thinking it wasn’t true all over again...” he muttered under his breath as he tried to unbutton a loose cufflink and use it to scrape more paint out from under his eye, only taking his glasses off as an afterthought when he realized they were in the way. A look of pure confusion crossed his company’s face. “Sorry- what? Fool yourself?” He dodged the need to answer that with another slightly-ridiculing question. “And so long as we’re comparing, what does that make you? Some kind of - French-African type?” The redhead’s smile faded just a little, and he rolled his eyes. “Take it easy... alright?” There was a real gentleness in his eyes as he looked at him and reassured. “Doesn’t matter to me either way what you are, I just wasn’t aware of it.” “And there you have discovered my reasoning for wanting to be left alone. Bravo.” After everything he’d endured since arriving at the Fleur’s estate that evening, he wasn’t exactly in a frame of mind to be placated by that. Trev took another dig at the caked-on acrylic, and his skin receded like water being pressed out from under a sheet of paper. “I don’t want to talk about it, to you or anyone else, understand?” “Fine, I get it- I won’t ask,” he replied, apparently un-insulted by his curtness. Of the small handful of redeeming qualities he’d discovered thus far, this was one of them. It was extremely hard to offend him, though it was proving to be more of a curse than a blessing. Just when he thought he was safe, Dylan took one last balloon out of his pocket and smashed it over the back of Trev’s head with a couple of fond pats to his shoulder before laying down in the dirt. Instead of wasting energy on a hapless wail, Trev sighed deeply and lulled his eyes shut to brood. Another silence passed between them, though that time it was just a little more comfortable, as opposed to tense and awkward. Instead of prodding further, Dylan had actually made true on his word not to ask; in spite of what he may have thought about the boy, it was one more small thing to be grateful for. “So, what’s your story…?” Fleur asked after about ten minutes of watching the distant fireworks and listening to the humming and chirping of insects in the night. “I mean-“ He paused mid-thought to tap the butt of his cigarette and knock the ashes into the dirt on the other side of him. “How’d you end up here, with Detective Lenore?” It wasn’t as much of a change in topic as he would have liked, but it was just enough. Trevor hesitated to answer, but Dylan’s silence as he took another drag on the cig was as insisting as asking the question over and over, without being as demanding. Trevor drew his knees to his chest looked away as he fidgeted and leaned over them. As much as he had kept to himself over the last few months, the desire to talk to someone about his trauma eventually overcame the shyness. It was more than most in the academy had bothered to do. Keeping everything to himself hadn’t exactly discouraged developing a reputation as a misanthrope. Appealing as it once sounded, the more time went by and he realized he missed people as he once knew them, that want had to win out somewhere. Besides- by the looks of him, it appeared Dylan Fleur wasn’t that far off from a kindred spirit. Trev stopped fidgeting after considering the offer to speak freely a little longer, then slid the paint-spotted glasses back on. “I’m from… out east. Boston.” One word there sufficed to explain the where and why of the equation in a single breath. If Dylan was really stuck on the idea of getting to know him, he’d have to work harder. “It’s where I met Detective Lenore. He found me- wandering the streets, trying to get out as they were… headed in. I wasn’t thinking straight at the time. He clocked me over the head and handcuffed me to a water main behind a laundromat for safekeeping. They found me again after Nicodemus was arrested. The rest is… well, here I am.” His company froze visibly, stared at the horizon and held his breath for a moment longer than planned before he turned and exhaled the smoke in the opposite direction. It hadn’t quite been six months since the Horsemen -a violent group of android supremacists- had rolled up on the unsuspecting city of Boston and turned it into hell on earth overnight. For two weeks they’d held the city and all its inhabitants hostage under threat of nuclear detonation in the form of a dirty bomb that would have killed all human inhabitants and left Purgatory to the Androids. Nicodemus and his Horsemen had eventually been taken down by Archangel brass (with the help of one rogue RK900), but it was only after the military’s efforts to save the city had resulted in the deaths of nearly a thousand people, humans and androids alike. It was considered a national tragedy and had again fanned the flames of prejudice spread by gangs like the Watchdogs (human supremacists, hell-bent on making sure the line between human and android remained defined). Clearly, it wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but it sure explained a lot. To his credit, Dylan didn’t divert from the heaviness of the subject right away. One dark, freckled hand lifted to run through the longer lengths of hair as he turned back to him and grimaced sympathetically. “You were there…? Fuck… I’m really sorry...” His response was more genuine than Trev had expected from the family misanthrope. But then again, based on the way his family had been talking about him, he’d assumed little more than to expect nothing short of a spoiled brat. So far, though, Dylan was proving to be the opposite. Impish did describe him well, but so did kind. “Sorry’s not your name, either,” Trev muttered in a muted, underwhelmed tone, arms folded once again. The weak impulse to joke, he couldn’t quite rise to; just as well, Dylan didn’t take him up on that. “Look- say no more, y’don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he assured as he put his mostly-spent cigarette out in the dirt, stood and waded into the water up to his knees. The cardigan came off, followed by his shirt, revealing several tattoos in addition to the branches wrapping around his right wrist and thumb- across his shoulders and the back of his neck was a lotus flower, the petals spreading out and around the sides of his neck in inky black brush strokes. The other, on his upper left arm, an ornate floral piece, and an hourglass on the underside close to his body; all of them were in black and white, and still a few years fresh, no greening or bleeding of the ink to indicate their relative age. It seemed he wasn’t afraid of a little pain if he was willing to sit long enough to have such detailed work done. “So, what’s your name?” came the question as he stooped down to rinse the paint off his shirt, then wadded it up into a sopping heap and scrubbed at his jeans with it to remove as much of the white paint as he could. Trev attempted to wipe some out of one eye, but only smeared the coagulating mess back above his ear in an unintentional homage to Nicodemus’ bullet. He could still feel the furrow in the panels there, even if it wasn’t visible with the skin projection running. “Trevor,” he replied, a little less annoyed than before, even with paint gunking up his hair and sticking to his fake skin. “...That’s it? Didn’t Dennis call you somethin’ else?” “Langley,” he added as a begrudging afterthought. No use in hiding such a crucial detail if it had already been revealed once. “And you are?” “What- you mean you didn’t hear my name bein’ thrown around by my disappointed family?” he teased with a quiet smirk thrown over his shoulder. “It’s Dylan. Fleur. Unfortunately.” It was true- their response to his absence was nothing short of exasperation, borderline apathy, and irritation, but Trev knew that giving someone the chance to introduce themselves, apart from what others had said of them, was key to understanding them. Archangel had afforded him the same courtesy once they had gotten back to Detroit. “You were clearly intent on doing something else tonight,” he noted instead, elbows propped on his knees, eyeing him warily from his spot on the ground. Dylan nodded and gave a crooked shrug. “What can I say? I got tired of big dinners and parties a long time ago.” Trev squinted, tilting his head so as to look out from behind sullied lenses. “Why?” he persisted, curious rather than judging. “Aren’t you one of them?” It kind of defeated the point of family to separate oneself from the pack. Dylan stopped from scrubbing the last of the paint off his pants and half turned toward him in deep consideration. It was clearly a loaded question with a multifaceted answer that he wasn’t yet willing to give. As he slung his shirt over his shoulder, he reached for the sweater that was still floating in the water a foot behind him, rolled his eyes and shrugged. Trevor knew a sore subject when he saw one, so he dropped it. Seemed they were both a study in living removed. “Forget I asked, then.” “It’s a long and boring story,” Fleur replied dismissively as he rubbed the pink paint off his face with the dripping wet sweater. The bright color transferred to the cotton fabric in a wide swath, leaving a slightly opaque layer smeared across his cheek until he swiped a clean sleeve over it again. “So boring, you’re carrying around balloons full of paint for laughs?” Dylan scoffed, popped his brows and shook his head as he dunked the cardigan in the water again to wash out the paint. “No- I was getting ready to do something else when you found me, but this sounded more fun.” Naturally, that only raised more questions than it answered. What purpose would water balloons filled with paint possibly serve, if not to be thrown at other people...? “By the way,” he added as he lifted the sweater out of the water, still sopping wet, and hurled it at him. Trevor jumped as it slapped over his face with a loud, hollow PLOP and pushed his glasses uncomfortably high up on his nose. “You should wash up before it dries.” Trev tugged the wet fabric free with a grudging groan, but took his advice and started scrubbing at the paint on his cheeks. Most of the lighter streaks were easily saturated and wiped from existence. On a whim of a program recommendation, he sampled the substance out of curiosity and determined it was exactly what Dylan claimed. The molecular formula ghosted across his vision to add itself to the pile of data still compiling. His company snorted in amusement at the sight of him licking paint off his finger, not at all subtle in calling attention to it. “You can’t get high off that shit, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Dylan teased, then bent forward to submerse his hair in the water. Hands rubbed vigorously at his head for a few seconds before he whipped it back and pushed as much of the water as he could out of the thick mop of auburn red. “How far out here are we, anyway?” Trev asked in idle thought, rubbing the glasses between the folds of the sweater as he looked out over the lake at the last fireworks going off in the distance. Dylan shook the water out of his hair and wrung out his shirt as best he could, then pulled it back on and ran his hands through his hair in a futile attempt to push it out of his face. “Far enough that no one would hear you scream.” It was a joke. Obviously. But he delivered it with such deadpan finality Trev couldn’t help a bemused pause, eyebrows hiked up in mixed skepticism and concern. Scream? Because…? The look said this plainly enough without him putting it to words. The devilish smile returned to its rightful place below squinting green eyes as the boy stepped out of the water and stopped beside him, reaching down to take back his cardigan. “Relax, I’m only half kidding…” Again with the comical vagueness. Trev didn’t smile back through bent, paint encrusted eyebrows. The suit was still a wreck, but at least his face was mostly clean again. He indulged in one last wipe across the brow with the improvised rag as best he could and handed it back. “About which part…?” Dylan sighed and rolled his eyes, draped the cardigan over his shoulder, and extended a hand in an amicable offer to help him stand, but Trev just leaned back and eyed him warily. “Don’t you wanna get out of those clothes and clean up?” As badly as he did, to fuss and bemoan over his current appearance wouldn’t do. Even after an impulsively-sparked, borderline-foolhardy chase, he wanted more to pretend he had retained some kind of composure, a stab at maintaining a shred of dignity. Other than that, it wasn’t as though he had another set of clothes readily available. “It can wait until we get back.” Trev pushed off the ground and grabbed his outstretched hand in the same movement, as Dylan leaned back and helped him up. “I’m not about to go wading and end up smelling of lake silt.” “There are worse things to smell like,” his for-better-or-worse company mused as he slipped his hands into his pockets and turned up the path back toward the mansion. It was a clear enough trail, even if at a walk it would still take them a quarter-hour to return. “But that’s what showers are for- first you live a little, then you deal with the mess later.” There it was again, Dennis’ sage advice about getting out to experience what chaos existed beyond the walls of the academy dorms. Right about now -as he trekked back in muddy, slippery loafers- Trev missed the clean, orderly nature of the place. Langley rolled his eyes, out of sight as he was following Fleur’s lead, and avoided mentioning what a mess Boston had turned into. And how, prior to that, he thought that lie of a life was all he needed. “Detective Lenore is still not going to be happy with the state I’m in, half clean or not.” He laughed, in a way that spoke of how little he cared. “Yeah? Well, if he isn’t, he can eat my ass. He knew what was coming, and he practically endorsed it.” The flagrant disregard with which he said it made Trev’s impression of him do a slight flip-flop. On the one hand, Dylan was obviously more perceptive and sensitive than he led others to believe; on the other, it was because of such nose-thumbing the rest of the family probably found him so tiresome, and therefore regarded as a lost cause. But in the most cursory of ways, Trev simply found the use of vulgarity annoying. “Be that as it may. There’s no need to be crude about it.” “You’re right, there isn’t.” The agreement came without explanation or apology, and the way he smirked as his voice trailed off said all he needed to let him know he couldn’t care less about how he was perceived. They walked on in silence for a minute more before Dylan thoughtfully asked, “Do you miss it…? Boston, I mean, not Purgatory…” Purgatory seemed like less of a place and more of an event the country would just as soon forget. Even if those files could be selectively deleted, Trev didn’t fancy letting go of them. Without that reference how was anything now supposed to make sense? The rapid-fire slideshow played over his retinas again, but instead of focusing on any one frame too long, he tried to shrug off the resulting discomfort; whether it had resulted from this train of thought or the chaffing of the paint-saturated fabric was hard to tell. Regardless, how interested could Fleur actually be? “Sometimes- there are fewer boats here, obviously.” The bustling Boston harbor made the Detroit River look like a carnival ride of a channel. “And I probably won’t miss the winters. Although Detroit isn’t much better on that front, is it?” “It’s worse,” Fleur chuckled with a quiet grin. “Guess you haven’t heard about the ice storms and freezing rain… make sure you get a thick coat, it gets so bad it’ll freeze even an android’s joints.” Trev stomached the reminder with only another shrug and batted a thin branch out of his way as they turned a corner along the path. “Boston has the same issue, only here it’s lake effect snow you have to worry about. You’re sooner to get buried in and freeze if your car breaks down.” He hadn’t spent all that time shut in simply not doing any research. Both cities were at the same given latitude. “By what I’ve heard the spring thaw came early this year, though…” In a manner of speaking. One near-silent minute later, he blinked down at his company, who had stopped to stare with an exhausted grin. “What?” “I’m sorry, but- are we really doing this…?” Dylan stopped, held up a hand, then covered his face and laughed under his breath. “Doing what?” Trev scowled, ever so slightly, not seeing the humor in a simple discussion about the weather… Until he did and slowed to a stop just a couple steps ahead of him. The hardness in his brow dissipated. “Oh.” It seemed it wasn’t as easy to derail uncomfortable conversations with this one unless he outright stated he didn’t want to talk about something. “I mean- I’m glad you’re talkin’, Trev, but the weather…? Really?” Meteorology was the one subject most near-strangers went for when they weren’t quite sure what should and shouldn’t be touched on. The more benignly, the better. But it was the former half of that statement that set him on edge all over again. “You’re glad? /What difference does it make to you that I don’t care to discuss much else?” The last time he was so familiar with anyone it turned out to be a sham, and he wasn’t eager to relive it in any capacity. The man sighed deeply and rolled his eyes again. “Because being a killjoy is no fun, and the weather is boring, but you’re the most interesting person I’ve laid eyes on all day. Is it really so bad to just want a little social interaction that doesn’t lead into a lecture about god knows what…?” Interesting didn’t always necessarily mean good for getting to know. In hindsight, Trev could see so many occasions in which he might have strayed and wondered, had Spencer not kept him on task and none the wiser. He missed that arrangement more than the city itself, that steady presence, and as yet Dylan Fleur was at best a fifteen percent match to Langley’s former partner. Of course, it would mean looking at compatibility issues, front and center. Dylan hadn’t the first clue at what an inner wreck lay under the hood; but as of yet, he didn’t need to know, either. It was safer for everyone if they just left it alone. Time to reiterate that. “I’m afraid all I’ve got are amended lectures at the moment. The rest is too much to go into, like I said. Would you care for it if I started picking your brain apart just as thoroughly?” “Who said y’had to tell your story?” The look on his face bore no hint of playfulness so he’d get the message across loud and clear, and boy did he. When he really wanted to, Fleur could be downright convincing, and genuine, contrary as it seemed. It wasn’t as tiring trying to keep up, but it was a little jarring how easily he could switch between carelessness and seriousness in the blink of an eye. “Didn’t I say I wouldn’t ask…?” Dylan turned on heel in front of him and took a couple of steps back, holding up his arms and lifting his brows. “I get the feeling you’re not too practiced in conversing for the sake of entertainment, ‘cause there’s plenty more we can talk about without rippin’ open old wounds- like why the hell you decided to wear a suit to one of the most casual holiday parties of the year,” he gestured with a teasing grin. Trevor shuffled his feet and crossed his arms, glanced down and tapped a toe into the dirt to hide the embarrassment in his expression. Admitting he didn’t own any respectable clothes besides his cadet duds was yet another confession he’d sooner avoid. How had he not grown tired of hearing what he didn’t want to talk about yet? “Hey-” One hand reached out to give a soft pat on Langley’s upper arm, and he flinched back instinctively. Touches of that nature were not his preference, either. “You wanna know what I was really doing with all those balloons before you showed up? C’mon...” Hitting something with them would be the logical assumption. And given what acrylic was meant to do, color and cover in equal measure, it wasn’t a stretch to parlay something into someone. All in all, Dylan appeared to have gotten some enjoyment out of it. Good for him.
#dbh: fanfiction#detroit: become human#detroit become human fanfiction#dbhilluminate#dbhiredemption#dbhfanfiction#dylan#trevor#dyvor
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Sorry if you’ve answered this before, but how did you and ETD meet? I love reading about your interactions! You guys are so sweet and you make me excited to find someone in the future who loves me and my oddities. ^-^
All right well brace yourselves, this is likely not as romantic as you’re thinking.
It was online a very long time ago, on a geeky writer fanzine run predominantly by elf enthusiasts (the final Lord of the Rings had just come out, everything was elves for a long time). He liked my writing, and I liked that he liked my writing, so we became friends in what would turn out to be very turbulent times for both of us.
I was an emotional wreck, stuck at home, dating my abusive ex and unable to get away from him, and ETD was also going through some shit as well. My abusive ex was also on the fanzine (because wherever I went online, he went too. He also used to log in as me and go through my messages and delete any he didn’t like) and unlike ETD and a few others, like @ahzuri and @dreamwaffles (holy crap we’ve been friends a long time), he thought my writing was worthless and took every opportunity to put me down and just generally be a bag of assholes.
So while I was dating Asshole, future-husband-to-be and cryptid-in-training now known as ETD, sort of filled in the void where emotional stability and support ought to be. Something which I was also doing for him, while we both urged the other to get help and basically just sort of held each other above water long enough to find the strength to keep kicking on our own again. He was my best friend, long before I realized he was my soul mate. (Though not necessarily my sole mate, I’ve never ascribed to the idea of “one true love” or fate.)
I still remember the first time we had a webcam chat and I felt my stomach drop cause “oh no he’s hot”. I tried valiantly to stop staring at his hands or the crook of his smile, but the guy talks a lot with his hands and smiles a lot too, so it wasn’t easy. And I was still very much firmly in denial that I had feelings for him because nope nope nope, that just wouldn’t do. Besides, I was still dating Asshole and as much as I was desperately unhappy, I was just as equally desperate for his approval and affection and thought maybe if I just tried harder, I might deserve it.
Except things just kept going from bad to worse and some days the only thing keeping me going was the hour a day where I could talk to the dorky American sending me vaguely flirty but mostly benign friendly messages from over 4000 miles away, and who was always telling me I was smart and funny and he loved what I had written that day, and how he always looked forward to talking to me. Vs. my then actual boyfriend, who isolated me from my friends and got off on hurting me in not good ways, and made me feel like I deserved it. And he hated that I was talking to husband-to-be, hated it. It actually resulted in an argument where he told me (again) that I was lucky to have him because no one else would ever want me because I was so ugly. But instead of backing down like I normally did, I stormed off thinking to myself, “fuck him, who the fuck does he think he is, I bet ETD would appreciate a picture of my tits” and, well, I was right.
…Anyway.
That went on for a while and I eventually found the emotional strength to break up permanently with Asshole and moved on with my life. I started going to college, made new friends…and still lived for those little moments when the $1 text message would show up every morning that would say “Good morning gorgeous :)” and tried to convince myself I had no feelings for him beyond enjoying his attention and our meaningful conversations about love, life and the universe as a whole. We even talked to each other about other partners we had, we were just…the constant in each other’s variables.
And then my family decided they were going to go on vacation in the USA and we thought, hey great, lets meet up. He needed a friendly date for a wedding, and I needed to not spend three weeks in Florida with my family, great, sure lets meet up.
So I’m getting off the flight from Florida and I want to vomit. Like for real, I almost throw up in a trashcan I am so nervous which is ridiculous. Because I am meeting my friend. Sure he knew all my deepest darkest fears and all my fragile hopes in dreams. And what I looked like without my clothes on. But it wasn’t like this was a Big Deal or anything (haha, right…right? guys?…right?)
So I’m hightailing it through the airport, checking my phone to see if he messaged me back after I texted him from the plane, and I make it to baggage claim, and there’s a lull in foot traffic and the people part—and of course he has his back to me—and I get this overwhelming sense of calm wash over me. But he also very firmly has his back to me, and because I’m an absolute gremlin I decided to sneak up behind him because that’s the kind of person I am. Except that didn’t work because he turned at the last minute and suddenly I’m off the ground and we’re hugging and laughing and it takes over a full minute or more before either one of us actually says anything and when we do it’s this giddy breathless rush of hi/hello…you look, haha, no you go first, no YOU…how was your flight/drive, here let me get your bag/no it’s okay I, well if you insist…
I’d like to say it was love at first sight but I’m not that much of a romantic. I mean it was something at first sight because on the drive back to his parents house we didn’t say anything, we just stared at each other, holding hands the entire way. Which was very bad because he was meant to be watching the road not me. But we survived, made it into his parents house, put my suitcase into the guest room, went downstairs to get a glass of water and managed about maybe…two minutes?? of polite conversation?? And then we just sort of launched ourselves at each other and have been largely inseparable (emotionally speaking) ever since.
It was one of the best weeks of my life, and I finally knew we had something more special than what I had allowed myself to believe it was. And not just because the final Harry Potter book came out that week and he let me read his copy before he did, but I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a big part of it.
Flash forward through five years of me finishing college and only being able to see each other once a year and trying to figure out where our relationship was going, (we like each other, we decide, we really really like each other and we’re good for each other and we love each other, maybe we could make this whole thing work if we try really hard) and he proposed via a rhyming treasure hunt and a mug of tea.
A year and a bit later we were married in Scotland, with our friends and family around us, and a sizable chunk of Internet friends who had been following our blatant denial for years, cheering us on from the sidelines. And now we’re here, five years married in May, still holding hands in the car when we shouldn’t, still very glad with the life choices we made that brought us here. Even on the bad days.
Which I figure must mean we’re doing something right.
#personal#memories#long post#ETD#how I met your mothfather#let me know if you guys need things tagged#okay to reblog#shadowbloodninja
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