#I’ll try but not making promises to do some birthday fan art maybe
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Happy birthday Newt Scamander!!!
Happy birthday to my favourite character from the potterverse of the wizarding world! Eddie Redmayne did an amazing job playing him and capturing my heart! 🥰
#eddie redmayne#newt scamander#fantastic beasts#birthday post#yeah I celebrate fictional characters birthdays and what of it#shut up lol#I’ll try but not making promises to do some birthday fan art maybe#got family round on Mr Mans here’s birthday#I still need to finish his birthday story but struggling to edit#which is why I’m probably procrastinating and struggling to finish it#I made a big mistake and saw a huge plothole and need to fix it#it’s so big it gives me anxiety#problem is what I wrote was really good as well#oh man
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The Wrong Lifetime – Eight // Wanda Maximoff
chapter seven | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter nine
author’s note: Y/C/N = your cousin’s name, also this is later than I wanted today but i’ve been super busy so sorry for that! Also, I’ll be responding to comments from the last one as soon as I’m free. Enjoy 😊
"...okay, so now use the water to dilute the colour."
I did as Wanda said, dipping my brush in the glass of water and diluting the watercolour I was using, but I must have used too much because it made the paint run and then the paper started to get too damp to hold together.
Wanda facepalmed, sighing as I smiled sheepishly.
"My bad...?"
She glared playfully before ripping a page from her sketchbook. "Try again, milaya (darling). And use less water this time."
I squinted in the sun as I glanced at her. "Can't you just accept I'm not very good at painting? Or art in general?"
She shook her head, taking the torn page from my grasp and replacing it with a new one. "No way. You're not getting out of it that easily. It's not hard, I promise!"
I groaned lightheartedly. "You said that about drawing. And about using acrylics. And about using chalk."
"And I'm saying it about this, now c'mon, try again," she encouraged with an amused smile before returning to her own painting.
We were sat in my garden, hanging out and making the most of the lovely day we were having. The Spring breeze was getting warmer as we transitioned into Summer and it was a nice change of pace from the usual bad weather we had. So nice that Wanda wanted to do some painting and also teach me how to. But art was never my strong suit and I'm sure she knew that but still proceeded to try anyway.
Sketching out the tree before us for the third time today, I attempted to provide an outline that I could eventually fill in with green watercolours. Unlike Wanda though, it wasn't fun. My eyes veered over to her and I smiled to myself as I admired the look of concentration on her face – her 'art' look, I dubbed it. It was this very specific expression she got whenever she worked on a painting or drawing, and it always reminded me of that first time I saw it, after we met in the stationary store and when she took me back to her room. Absolutely wonderful.
"I don't hear a pencil moving," she said, not looking up but beginning to smile.
"That's because I'm looking for... what did you call it?" I racked my brain, thinking back to the day in the store when she talked about inspiration. "Vdokhoventi?"
A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. Attempting not to laugh, she tilted her head adorably. "Vdokhnoveniye."
I quirked a brow. "Is that not what I said?"
She giggled, shaking her head. "Definitely not."
I grinned, shrugging. "Well, that's what I meant."
She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not it, so eyes on your page."
"Oh, how dearly mistaken you are, love," I said quietly, leaning close and giving her a knowing smile.
She looked up, expression softening with a smile. Her eyes were heavenly, pupils dilated as she squinted in the sun, and they flickered to my lips before she settled on nudging me in the shoulder slightly. I snickered, leaning my head on her shoulder since everybody thought we were as close as best friends, so it wouldn't look suspicious. She sighed contently, letting me watch as she moved her paintbrush, painting a flower that was peeking through the grass we were sat on.
I could have stayed there forever, in that moment, sitting with Wanda and watching her paint under the sun. But of course, all good things come to an end when you don't want them to.
"Y/N, dear," I heard my father call, and when I looked up, I saw him approaching Wanda and I from the direction of our house.
Straightening up, I watched as he attempted to sit on the grass, but his legs were too long and he struggled to cross them. With a hearty chuckle, he stretched them out, slightly bent, and leaned on his hands.
"I'm getting too old for this, ladies," he said humorously, making Wanda and I smile.
"What d'you need, dad?" I asked, raising my brows.
"I just wanted to check in and see if you were ready for tonight," he said casually, making me furrow my brows. He seemed to notice my confusion, prompting, "Tonight? Your cousin's birthday party?"
"My cousin's what-now?"
He sighed, massaging the point between his brows. "Y/C/N? They organised this months ago. We're all expected to be there." His glanced to Wanda. "You, too, dear."
Wanda hummed, pulling her gaze from her painting and looking to my dad. "Yes, I'm aware. Got my dress ready and everything."
My eyes snapped to Wanda's with surprise. "You knew about this?!"
"You should be more like her," my dad muttered, as Wanda smiled with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
I looked back to my father. "I was planning on helping Y/B/N with his manuscript tonight."
My dad waved his hand. "I've already talked to him. He's agreed to work on it before the party starts so you're both on time."
I groaned, already tired at the sound of yet another party. Did it ever end?
"Don't be late," he ordered, though his voice was anything but stern. Cue another groan. He smiled before looking to Wanda's painting. "Wow, that's great, dear. Apparently you've got Y/N here attempting to do the same?"
Wanda chuckled as she handed him my several failed attempts. "Key word being 'attempting'."
He accepted the pages and stifled a smile of amusement. "Wow... maybe you should stick to writing, Y/N."
I ripped the pages from his grasp. "Cheers, dad, really."
He laughed before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. "It's all in good faith, dear. Now remember. Don't be late tonight, okay?"
I sighed, which he took as my response, before pushing himself off the grass with a grumble. Dusting his trousers, he nodded to Wanda and I before leaving us be.
"You could've told me I had yet another party to attend tonight," I told Wanda with narrowed eyes.
She shrugged, smiling helplessly. "I thought you knew."
I laid back on the grass with a dramatic sigh. "I just don't understand why our life revolves around extravagant parties, balls and dinners."
"That's just how it is, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said with a warm smile.
I looked up at the sky, raising my hand to shield the sun from my eyes, though my heart fluttered at one of the many nicknames she called me in Russian. "I'd rather live in the middle of nowhere. Where nobody expects anything of me and there's no stupid parties to attend."
She rested a hand on my leg before laying beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. I relaxed my head on hers, appreciating how well we fit together.
"Same here," she agreed, making me gasp playfully.
"What? Don't you love the glitz and glamour?"
She laughed quietly. "I do, but I like the peace and quiet more."
I breathed out, fingertips brushing hers. "Maybe I can be a little late tonight... accidentally run over time so I don't have to stay as long."
Her fingers tugged on mine between us as a warning. "No. I'll be left alone and I'll be bored. And when I'm bored, I drink."
It was my turn to laugh. "You won't be alone, Wanda. You'll have Pietro."
She shifted so she was no longer leaning on my shoulder but instead tilting her head to look my way. "I want you."
I turned my head and gave her a small, promising smile. "I'll try to be on time."
She quirked a brow. "Try? You will."
My eyes flittered away, ready to argue otherwise, but she sat up and grabbed her paintbrush. I sat up, too, ready to tell her I would try, but I flinched when she flicked water towards me from the tip of it.
"Are you serious?" I asked, wiping the water from my eyelids with tongue-in-cheek.
She chuckled and I grabbed my paintbrush and did the same, watching her squirm when it flicked on her face.
Suppressed smile on her face, she wiped away the water and glared with dazzling eyes. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, milaya (darling)."
Smiling from ear to ear, I quirked a brow devilishly. "Oh?"
"You're so lucky we're in front of people," she said lowly, leaning close enough to be platonic, but her hand slipped under my dress and creeped up my leg, making me involuntarily shiver. "Or you would be in serious trouble."
I stopped her hand from going any higher, the rings on her fingers cold enough for me to not melt under her touch. "I highly doubt that, love."
She held my gaze, intoxicating and mesmerising all at once. A sly smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Don't test me then. You heard your father. Don't be late."
I exhaled, licking my lips. "Fine. I won't be."
—
Later that afternoon, I found myself sat in my brother's study as the two of us worked on his latest manuscript together. It was a love story, his (my) specialty, and I was helping him to sort out his sentence structure when he decided to question me.
"Will you entertain me for a moment?" he asked randomly, making me look up from the pages.
"I'll probably regret it, but go on," I said jokingly, before looking back down and adding some notes to the paper.
His chair creaked as he leaned back, eyes watching me thoughtfully. "Are you in a secret relationship?"
I almost choked on my spit as he asked this, heart dropping to my stomach with panic. He couldn't know about Wanda, right? We'd been so careful.
Thankfully, I played it off well as I merely glanced his way before distracting myself with note-taking.
"Why would you think that, Y/B/N?" I asked like he was insane.
He shrugged in my peripheral. "I don't know... I've been wondering for a while. You've just loosened up so much more. And you're not as uptight as you usually are."
"Cheers," I said sarcastically.
He leaned forward, head resting in his palm. "This all happened right about the time I met Wanda..."
I swallowed hard, quirking a brow at him to play down my panic.
"I saw you with Pietro the other week," he continued, and I could finally breathe when I realised what he was insinuating. "I'm happy if you're happy, Y/N, but I'm not a fan of you sleeping with my publisher."
At that thought, I shuddered and proceeded to shove Y/B/N on the arm. "Don't say that. And I would never."
Just your fiancé, I thought guiltily.
"Good," he said with relief, straightening up. "Because you're not supposed to do that until you get married."
I rolled my eyes dismissively in response, but wondered if that still applied in a world where one was not allowed to marry the person they loved.
Y/B/N gave me a reassuring glance. "Look, I'm okay with it, I guess. But I'd appreciate the heads up so I can give him a stern talking to."
Realising there was a hint of mirth in his voice, I looked up and gave him a warning look. "Don't you dare."
He laughed, patting me on the back, to which I shrugged off with annoyance.
"It's the Maximoff charm," he commented knowingly. "The twins have that effect on people, don't they? Wanda sure has it on me."
A short silence fell after he said that and I chewed on my lip curiously, unable to stop myself from speaking until it was too late.
"Is her love reciprocated?"
He looked down to me from his daydream, no doubt of Wanda. "Pardon?"
Knowing there was no backing down from the conversation now, I avoided his eyes. "The engagement between you both was arranged... you're clearly in love with her, but is it returned?"
His lips twitched into a frown. "I'd hope so."
I hummed, diverting my attention away from him and to the pen in my hand.
"Why? Did she say something?" he asked, voice laden with worry.
"Of course not," I reassured him.
"But you'd tell me if she did?" he asked eagerly.
I looked his way and saw him peering down at me, hanging onto my response. I nodded lamely, which seemed to put him at ease as he sank into his chair with relief.
We spent the next few hours working on the manuscript without a hitch, but I noticed the time and realised the party was already in full swing. Wanda's words came to mind and I hoped she wouldn't be too annoyed at my lateness.
"We're wrapping it up now, don't worry," Y/B/N said, noticing me check the clock. "Thanks for the help. I'm gonna get this to my editor tomorrow. Your amendments should help make the process go a lot smoothly."
I hummed in response, feeling a heaviness settle on my shoulders as he mentioned his editor. It was always the same routine – I helped him with his manuscript, he got it edited, got his book published and got all the credit. And I was stuck in the same position, wishing I could do the same.
"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, sensing my mood.
Playing with the corner of the manuscript, I met his gaze. "I help you with your writing, but I never get anything from it."
"You get to help me," he pointed out, not seeing the issue. "Isn't that enough?"
Pietro's offer came to mind as I said, "What if I wrote my own book? And got published with my name on the cover?"
He squinted as he studied me, trying to find the humour in my words. Letting out a laugh, he shook his head.
"Y/N, that's absurd."
I raised my eyebrows hopefully. "I mean, is it? Would that be so bad?"
He pressed his lips together and breathed out through his nose. Resting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me a condescending look.
"I'm saying this because I care," he said, making me feel like crap. "But yes."
As if I didn't already know the answer, I asked, "Why?"
He motioned with his hand like it was obvious. "Because. People would look at you differently. You'd be undesirable. You know men don't like smart women. I'm just looking out for you as your brother."
I looked away, the bitterness at his words stinging more than usual. "Well, I like smart women."
Thinking I was joking, he chuckled. "Don't go saying things like that. One might misinterpret."
My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard, trying to contain my frustration.
"You can do this every now and then," he said, referring to the manuscript, "but any more isn't possible. Besides, two authors in one family? That's insane."
I forced a smile, but I wondered if his last comment was the real reason he wouldn't let me at least try to get published.
"Anyway, never mind that," he said indifferently. "We should probably head out. Dad is not going to be pleased. Especially since I promised we wouldn't be late."
I nodded, sliding my chair out and wanting to be anywhere but here right now. "Yeah, come on."
He gave me a sneaky smile. "Can't wait to see Pietro?"
I slapped him on the arm before standing up, ignoring his laughter. Nothing to make an already-depressing night worse than going to a party you didn't care for.
—
Wanda Maximoff was a very difficult drunk to be around, I'd learnt that the hard way.
As soon as Y/B/N and I rolled up to my cousin's house, a third of the guests were drunk and the rest were tipsy. A typical Y/L/N get-together. Y/B/N was instantly dragged away by some family whilst I was quick to make myself scarce, attempting to find Wanda. But the place was bustling with people and there were way too many rooms to check.
I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.
I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.
"If you're expecting a brand new fountain pen, you won't find it in there," I teased, making him jump.
He sighed when he looked my way, realising it was me. "I know that. But there's nothing better here to do, so I may as well know what freebies we'll be getting by the end of it."
I smirked. "Anything good?"
He shrugged, seeming disappointed. "Just some chocolate and perfume samples."
Holding back a smile, I said, "How tragic."
"If you're looking for my sister, she's over there," he said, nodding behind me. "You'll love this one."
"What do you mean?" I asked, brows knitted with confusion, before turning around and following his gaze.
Wanda was indeed stood on the other side of the dining room and I could just about make her out between idle guests. She was chatting to some woman, hands moving erratically and with expression, a grin on her lips.
"What is she doing?" I asked unsurely, tearing my eyes from her and looking to Pietro.
He was withholding laughter as he answered, "Sometimes, dear Y/N, my beloved twin sister gets drunk when she's–"
"Bored," I finished, remembering what she told me this morning. My face dropped as I mumbled, "Uh-oh."
"Uh-oh indeed," Pietro said, grinning at his sister's dismay. "Drunk Wanda is a very truthful Wanda. So, any secrets of hers will most definitely be revealed tonight."
Pietro was too caught up in his own amusement to notice my eyes widening.
"One of our servants made me a platter a few years ago," Pietro explained, oblivious to my panic. "It was a delicious cheese platter, the cheese having been imported from France. Then, Wanda proceeded to eat it without telling me. When I asked if she did, she lied. And I only discovered she lied because she got drunk a few weeks later and bragged about how good the cheese was."
Continuing to ramble, though this time in Russian, Pietro complained about said incident, though I wasn't listening as I watched Wanda talk to the woman enthusiastically. I could only imagine what secrets she was sharing.
"Pietro!" I cut him off, earning his attention. "Shouldn't you do something? To stop Wanda?"
The cheese platter story long forgotten, his grin reappeared on his lips. "Nah, it's funny watching her make a fool of herself."
I gave him a look of disbelief before looking back to Wanda, who was laughing at something by herself. The woman she was speaking to seemed partially confused, but smiled to be polite. I gulped, before shaking my head.
"I'm not that mean," I said to Pietro before making a move to stop her.
Pietro booed me playfully, but I ignored him and approached the drunk brunette, managing to catch her conversation.
"–and they're usually such catty bitch–"
"Wanda!" I immediately cut her off, bumping into her side slightly to get her attention. "There you are!"
Green eyes widened with excitement as they met mine. "Y/N! You're here!"
Ignoring her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close before looking to the guest she was talking with.
"My apologies for her behaviour," I said with an awkward smile, hoping Wanda hadn't revealed anything suspicious.
"No need to apologise, dear," the woman said with an amused smile. "Wanda here was telling me all about how lovely of a sister-in-law you are. Or will be."
Wanda grinned, looking to me and leaning in so close that her nose brushed my cheek. "Yeah, she is," she continued to the woman, though her eyes were on mine. "She's sweet, not like other people make out their sister-in-laws to be."
My face was warm as I cleared my throat and smiled once more to the woman. "If you'll excuse Wanda and I."
The woman barely got out a nod before I dragged Wanda away, trying to keep her lips away from my neck (she was also an extremely clingy drunk). Tugging her into the bathroom down the hall, I closed the door behind us and released a breath of relief, grateful for the escape from guests.
"You look very sexy when you're worried," Wanda complimented, stepping forward and smiling dazedly.
"Wanda–"
She placed her hand on my jaw, moving closer so that her lips were grazing mine as she mumbled, "You came late, milaya (darling). But I still love you."
I'd like to say that I had the willpower to push her away and scold her for acting so obvious about us before, but my lips went numb as she captured them between hers. I could taste the alcohol on her lips as she moved them against mine, making me dizzy and forgetting what I was going to say. Her thumb caressed my jaw and I relaxed under her touch, hands resting on her chest. When she tried to part my lips with her tongue, I seemed to come to my senses.
"Wanda, you're drunk," I muttered, pushing her back gently.
She chased down my mouth again, sucking on my lip and tilting my head back so she could have better access. I tried not to let her win as I kissed her briefly before pulling away. Clouded hazel eyes met mine with a matching smirk.
"You're such a tease," she whispered, her accent thicker than usual and making my stomach flip uncontrollably. Her thumb traced my lips as she continued, "You shouldn't do that when I already know how you taste, moya lyubov' (my love)."
The way she was staring at me made me flustered in place, and she seemed to notice her effect on me as she winked my way.
Shaking my head and trying not to let her win, I said, "Look, Wanda. I'm sorry for being late. But did you really have to get drunk?"
She shrugged, leaning her weight on my shoulder with her hand. "If you hadn't kept me waiting, then I wouldn't have."
I sighed, looking to her apologetically. "I didn't realise the time."
A permanent troublesome smile was fixed on her lips as she watched me.
"Your brother told me how you can be when you get drunk," I said with mild concern, hoping she'd register my seriousness. "You need to be careful, Wanda. We can't have people finding out about us."
"It seems to me," she began agonisingly slowly, lacing her arms around my shoulders, "that you'll have to watch me all night to make sure I don't do anything out of line."
Determined not to play into her teasing, I maintained her gaze with a stern stare. "It seems I'll have to."
She bit her lip, eyes flickering between mine, before leaning further into my ear. In a whispered voice, she said, "That means you can't leave my side, printsessa (princess)."
I clenched my jaw, ready to agree, but a gasp escaped my lips as hers sucked on my earlobe, teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin. Stupid Wanda and her stupid flirting and stupid attractiveness.
"Wanda!" I scolded, though my cheeks were flushed as I pushed her away gently.
She laughed adorably, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "What?"
"You have to behave," I told her, swallowing hard and trying not to let her teasing smile get to me. "You can't do this out there. Okay?"
"Okay," she agreed in a way that wasn't reassuring in the slightest.
I rolled my eyes before grabbing her hand and leading her back outside the bathroom, returning to the party. I wasn't planning on leaving her side for the rest of the evening, even if Y/B/N wanted to be with her. The last thing I wanted was for her cute drunken self to reveal something she couldn't take back.
To my relief, she kind of behaved after that. There were times when she would get a little too touchy to be platonic, but a quick stare set her straight. Y/B/N wasn't around much, as when he did join us, he was immediately pulled away by some family friends who wanted to discuss his books. For once, I was glad he was an author, afraid of what would happen if Wanda got too comfortable in his presence.
At one point though, he was able to join Wanda, Pietro and I at a standing table, relief flooding his expression when nobody called after him. His arm wrapped around Wanda's waist and he kissed the top of her head, making me look the other way with distaste. She scrunched her nose up at the action before distracting herself with a drink. I gave her a knowing look, having told her earlier to stop with the alcohol. She pretended not to see me.
"Sorry I've not been able to spend time with you tonight," he said to Wanda, oblivious to her tipsy state.
"It's almost like it's your birthday and not your cousin's," Pietro joked, smiling at him.
My brother chuckled. "I guess. They just all wanna talk about my manuscript."
"Ah, yes, the reason you were late, right?" Wanda asked, eyes falling to mine.
"I'm sorry," my brother apologised, assuming it was him she was speaking to.
"You were helping him, too, right?" Pietro asked, looking to me curiously. "Maybe I'll finally get a glance at your work."
I narrowed my eyes at him, having figured he'd put the subject to rest after last time. He merely grinned in response, finding joy in messing with me, just like his sister. Before I could say anything, my brother beat me to it.
"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"
"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"
So he was jealous. Wow.
"You don't need to hide your relationship, y'know," he continued when I didn't respond, looking to Pietro.
The silver-haired publisher choked on his drink as he looked to my brother, clearly very amused.
"I know you're together," Y/B/N said with agitation. "Everybody does. And don't get me wrong, Pietro, I respect you as a publisher."
I groaned quietly, closing my eyes with embarrassment. When I opened them, Pietro was watching my brother with an entertained smile, meanwhile, Wanda was looking between them with a twitching frown.
"But if you're going to date my sister, you should do it the right way," my brother continued stupidly. "It's not appropriate to have whatever this is." He motioned between us with his hands. "It's wrong."
I jumped when Wanda's hand slipped to my arse, squeezing it gently. Thankfully, our backs were to a wall so nobody would have noticed behind us, but I instantly glared at her and removed her hand. She gave me a cunning smile, not bothered by the consequences.
"...and if you're sleeping together like I suspect," Y/B/N was saying, making me flush with humiliation, "know that our friendship is at breaking point. I can't have that blatant disrespect in my life."
Wanda continued to attempt to grab my arse, making me slap her hand away several times, all whilst trying to manage whatever conversation was happening right now.
"I can't believe you just said that," I finally spoke up, managing to keep Wanda at bay long enough. "You're such an idiot, Y/B/N! I told you I wasn't with Pietro!"
Pietro tried not to laugh as he met my brother's intimidating stare. "I value our friendship, too, Y/B/N. Which is why I can promise you I have no... relations... with your sister. I don't like her like that, I can assure you."
Wanda snorted with amusement, before hiding behind a glass of wine when everyone looked her way.
Y/B/N seemed embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "Oh."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, oh!"
"I guess I should apologise," he said awkwardly, looking to Pietro. "I–"
"No apology necessary," Pietro cut him off, raising a hand. "I am thankful for the entertainment however."
"I'm gonna go literally anywhere else," I dismissed myself, unable to take the uncomfortable situation any longer.
Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away. To my surprise, Wanda trailed after, falling into step with me.
I glanced at her unhappily, quirking a brow. "Can I help you?"
"Oh, don't be mad at me because your brother's an idiot," she said with a wag of her hand.
I gave her a suggestive look. "I told you to behave."
She pressed her lips together in a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry... Y/B/N was talking about you and Pietro and I– well, I don't like sharing, remember?"
The improper glint in her eye as she stopped before me, watching with amusement, made me feel warm all of a sudden. That day when she first told me that and we proceeded to make love flashed to mind, and she seemed to know as she had a mischievous look on her face.
Clearing my throat, I pointed a finger her way. "Behave."
I should have known by the devilish look in her eyes that she wouldn't.
#wanda maximoff au#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#elizabeth olsen x you#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#elizabeth olsen imagine#marvel#mcu#scarlet witch#scarlet witch imagine
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heeeey, in love with you, your writing and your blog 💖 Tbh I have read everything you have and I really in love with your writing. And I know that your request are close, but if you want could you write a Tom x reader where they have a fight and Tom has to leave a few days to promote his new movie and when he's back he sees like some of the reader's stuff are missing and thinks she left but in reality she's in another room couse she's awfully sick and doesn't want to get Tom sick too
Thank you so much anon!
Give Me a Minute to Hold My Girl
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: Tom can’t find you after a bad fight
Masterlist
Tom was away a lot.
You knew traveling was a big part of his job, so you never did complain. That being said, it wasn’t easy having a boyfriend who was never around. All the missed birthdays, events, and art shows weighed on you after a while. You were more than proud of him, but you were growing lonely. He had a saying, something he said every time before he left you:
“Wherever I am, and wherever you are, we’re always looking at the same moon.”
And it used to assuage you. You’d go outside on nights he was away and stare at the moon, wishing he was looking at it where’ve he was. You knew it was never true though. He was rarely in the same time zone as you and was definitely not spending his precious time staring at the moon.
You couldn’t help it. You were miserable.
On a night where Tom came home three hours later than he said he would after being away for a week. He sent a short text alerting you that he’d be home late, therefore missing the art show he promised he’d be at after missing the last three. Upon reading the text just mere moments before your show, you decided your quota was filled. You couldn’t handle the lonely nights anymore. If he didn’t start shaping up, you were gonna have to start considering looking elsewhere for love. You loved Tom, but you had to love yourself more.
“Hi, babygirl.” Tom came behind you that night and wrapped his arms around your waist as you rinsed your brushes. He smelled like he had been using a new cologne, one you didn’t recognize. You stiffened a little in his embrace as you wiped off a brush.
“I thought you were gonna be home at 2.” You said quietly.
“Plans changed. Sorry I didn’t call.” He kissed the back of your neck with strangers lips.
“Do you remember what today was?” You asked for your own amusement.
“Oh uh…” Tom scratched the back of his head as he raked his brain. “Not your birthday.”
“No.” You confirmed with half hearted humor.
“Not our anniversary.” He continued.
“No.” You shook your head.
“Um…” he trailed off until his eyes landing on your paint brushes next to you. “Your art show. I totally forgot.” He rubbed his eyes. “It was today?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, never meeting his eyes.
“I knew it. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Tom took your hands and looked at you apologetically. “I got pulled into a meeting about Spider-Man 3 and it just slipped my mind.”
“It’s all right. I didn’t place or anything.” You shrugged, not wanting a fight. “You can come to the next one.”
“This was the one where you paint on the spot right? Can you paint me a new one while I get changed?” Tom suggested as he brushed some hair out of your face.
“Sure. Anything specific?” You asked, warming up to him now that he was showing an interest in you again. The fire you felt for him was burning once again.
“Paint how you feel. I’ll be back soon.” Tom kissed your forehead before leaving the room.
You put a blank canvas on your easel and squirt some dark paint on your palette. As you painted, you heard Tom shouting and cheering from the other room. You decided it wasn’t worth it to get angry at him for playing a video game, after all he did have a long day. You kept the painting simple and void of color so you could get back to spending time with your boyfriend. When you finished and felt happy with your work, you called him back.
“I’m done, Tom.” You called out to him.
“Just a second. I’m in the middle of a game.” He called back. After ten minutes had gone by and he still hadn’t come into the room, you decided to add another small detail to the background of the painting. Tom walked in shortly after with a different outfit and freshly showered. You gave him a small smile.
“I can clean up and we can grab some dinner.” You said as you collected the used brushes.
“I actually gotta go soon, honey. I have meeting in Manchester tonight.” Tom told you timidly. You stopped collecting your brushes and looked at him.
“But you just got home.” You said, not bothering to hide your disappointment.
“I thought I’d come back for an hour to see you.” He said as if was no big deal.
“And then you spent that hour playing video games with Tuwaine.” You pointed out in anger. You felt the fire fizzle out.
“He’s never on, I didn’t want to miss him.” Tom said light heartedly in an attempt to cheer you up. “He’s the best at 2K.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t really he was the best at 2k.” You said sarcastically. “How stupid of me to try to pull my boyfriend away from making virtual half court shots after I haven’t seen him in a week.”
“I haven’t seen him either.” Tom reminded you, only fueling your anger.
“But you gave your only free hour to him. When am I gonna get to see you, Tom? When you’re dead?” You questioned.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He held out his arms.
“Until your car pulls up.” You shot a look at his phone which you knew would be buzzing any minute.
“What do you want me to say?” Tom asked. “I work. I’m a working actor. People need me.”
“I need you.” You threw a sheet over your canvas and finished collecting your brushes, not wanting to look at him.
“I don’t know what to tell you, darling. I’m sorry. I can’t be everywhere at once.” He apologized. You shook your head before turning to face him.
“You spent last week in Mexico, Berlin, and Scotland. You’ve been to LA, Germany, and Vancouver this week. And now you’re off to Manchester? Do you mean you can’t be everywhere at once, or do you mean you can’t be anywhere I am?” You accused.
“I don’t pick where I go. If I have a meeting, I go. If I have a premier, I go. If I have to film, I go. It’s part of the job.” Tom defended himself.
“Chris wasn’t at the London premier.” You said quietly. You weren’t going to bring it up, but it felt warranted.
“What?” Tom asked at the random claim.
“Chris Pratt. He wasn’t at the London premier for Onward.” You told him.
“Okay?” Tom said in confusion.
“Do you know why?” You tested him.
“No.” Tom said after a minute of thinking.
“He was home with his family. He said his son started crying as he was leaving for his flight so he stayed. It was all over the news.” You told him. “Traveling is part of his job too, and yet he knows how to be there for his family. Why can’t you do the same?”
“Harry and Sam were there.” Tom pointed out.
“I don’t care about Harry and Sam!” You raised your voice. “I care about how the only time I get to see my boyfriend is when I’m scrolling through Instagram. Girls all over the world get to see you but the girl you swore you loved is lying at home in an empty bed. You can make time for millions of strangers but you can’t make time for me? Do you know how it feels every time you don’t answer my FaceTime calls but then you go on Instagram live? Do you have any idea how unhappy I’ve been?” You asked desperately.
“I have to tend to my fans, it’s a part-“ Tom began.
“Of the job, I know.” You cut him off as you stormed out of the room.
“What do you want me to do? Quit?” He laughed bitterly as he followed you into the living room.
“Would you?” You spun around.
“What?” Tom faltered.
“Would you give it all up for me?” You repeated lowly. “If I asked, and I wouldn’t, but it I did? Would you give up the money and stardom and power for me?”
“Why are you asking me this?” Tom sighed.
“Because I think I know the answer.” You said tearfully. You and Tom stared at each other for a long time. He could see how hurt you were and prepared to make amends.
“I love you.” He said meekly.
“Don’t give me that.” You shook your head and looked up at the ceiling.
“I do.” He said firmly but you didn’t answer. “What do you want me to give you, then?”
“A reason to stay, maybe?” You shrugged sadly as tears fell down your cheeks. “I’m seeing nothing but a lifetime of loneliness ahead of me because of your beloved job.”
“We love each other. Isn’t that enough of a reason?” Tom stepped closer to you but you backed away. His face fell at your indifference.
“I always thought it would be but…” you shrugged and pulled your sweater tighter around you.
“You wouldn’t leave.” Tom said starkly.
“I would if I had nothing to come back to.” You looked him in the eye. His eyes were red now too.
“I’m here. I’m what you have to come back to.” His voice wavered as he got to the point of tears.
“Tom, when are you ever here?” You laughed at the absurdity of his statement. “When have I ever had you to come back to you?”
“You think I like the traveling anymore than you do? I hate leaving you. I miss you like crazy when I’m away. It kills me to be apart.” He defended himself as he raised his voice.
“Oh, is that why you don’t answer my texts? Because being away from me killed you?” You asked sarcastically. “That makes total sense now. Although, I never really got the feeling you “missed me like crazy” when you were dodging my calls.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Tom apologized, knowing this wasn’t an argument he was going to win. “I’ll start coming home more, I promise.”
“Like you promised you’d come to my show?” You shot back, not yet ready to let him off easy.
“I just forgot! Am I not allowed to forget things?” Tom shouted.
“You have ten thousand assistants who revolve around you like you’re the sun and not one of them was there to remind you about my show?” You yelled. Tom quoted down when he realized you were right.
“Darling, I cannot deal with this right now.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Can we please talk about this tomorr-” he cut himself off with a sigh.
“What?” You asked bitterly.
“I won’t be here tomorrow. I have press in New York. I have a flight out of Manchester after the meeting tonight.” He told you with dad eyes. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot to tell you.”
“How convenient.” Your voice cracked. It was at the point where you were plenty used to the goodbyes, but this one felt final.
“I was gonna tell you, I swear. It just slipped my mind.” Tom apologized.
“That’s been happening a lot, hasn’t it?” You snapped.
“You know this is part of the job.” He said weakly, hating himself for having to give you such a lame excuse.
“I do know that.” You nodded. “What I didn’t know is that I was gonna live my life freezing to death in the shadow of your career!” You shouted.
“Then get a new life!” He shouted back, eyes immediately displaying regret. You tilted your head as tears streamed down your face.
“Do you mean that?” You asked quietly.
“Maybe I do.” Tom shrugged as he stared you coldly in the eye. His phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. “I have to go.”
“Good. Go.” You snapped. He went to the door but stopped and looked at you.
“You’re gonna be here when I get back, right?” He asked timidly.
“Would you even notice if I wasn’t?” You responded as you went to retreat into the bedroom.
“Darling, wait-“ Tom began to follow you but you stopped in your tracks.
“I don’t have anything left here to wait for.” You told him and you watched his heart break.
Tom opened his mouth to speak but his phone buzzed again. He looked at it and sighed as you wiped a tear.
“Go. Your car is waiting.” You said.
“I can’t leave you like this.” He mumbled as he typed something into his phone.
“Just leave. You know how.” You said bitterly. Tom looked up at you at your words. He was in a bad way. His nose was running and his eyes were bloodshot.
“I can cancel on the press. I can stay home-“ he said desperately.
“This is not a home! This is a prison!” You yelled. “I am chained to this one man cult we call a relationship. Please, just go! You have people waiting on you, people you clearly find more important than me. You need to leave, because I will never kick you out. Go on your press tour. Go to New York. Go do your precious “job” and meet your fans. Go stare at the fucking moon. I don’t care. Just leave.” You yelled until your voice was ragged.
“You’ll never find someone like me.” Tom warned, saying anything he could to get you to stay.
“I hope to God that’s true!” You screamed.
Tom took a step towards you, but his phone buzzed again. He wiped a tear off his cheek and nodded.
“I’ll be back in a week.” He swallowed.
“Good for you.” You said dismissively as you walked into the bedroom and slammed the door. He stared at the door for a long time, about to knock when he got yet another text telling him his car was there. He swallowed thickly, pressed a kiss to the outside of the door, and left without another word.
“I’m home.” Tom called into his home a week later.
He immediately felt the chill of your fight hitting him. When he didn’t hear a response from you, he shivered in his jacket, suddenly feeling like he was wearing somebody else’s clothes. He set his bag down timidly in the ground and looked around. The first thing he noticed was the lack of dishes in the sink. You weren’t one for cleaning up after yourself and Tom had grown accustomed to coming home to a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. You’d usually wash and dry them together before settling down on the couch to watch a movie. Tom felt fear prickle the back of his neck at the empty sink. There was no way you’d actually left, Tom told himself. You wouldn’t just up and go without a note or a call or a text. Not that Tom was very good at answering your calls and texts. Tom took another step into the house and glanced around the living room. Your favorite blanket was missing and the room looked like it hadn’t been touched since Tom left a week ago. Your pile of movies was no longer next to the TV and Tom began to feel sick.
“Y/n? I’m home.” He called out again. His voice bounced off the walls but didn’t get a reply. His palms began to sweat as he walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet. All of your coffee mugs were gone. There was an empty space in the middle of the cabinet where they used to be.
“Princess? Are you here?” Tom called out, desperately this time. When he was met with silence, he rushed into the bathroom. Tom washed his face with cold water and noticed your toothbrush was missing from the holder. He started at the vacant spot for a long tome before rushing into your shared bedroom. Upon entrance, he noticed your pillow missing. The bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in all week, and Tom feared it hadn’t. He flung open your closet doors and noticed a large gap in your clothing. All your favorite T-shirts were gone. After rummaging through the drawers, Tom found that your leggings, bras, underwear and socks were all missing too. Tom sat on the bed and out a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs.
You’d done it. You’d left him.
While he spent the week with friends and fans, you spent the week packing up your life. Tom snapped his head up when he heard the doorbell ring.
“Babygirl?” He asked as he rushed to the front door. He swung it open, only to find his next door neighbor.
“Oh, hey Tom. Glad to see you’re back.” His elderly neighbor smiled at him.
“Hi Shane.” Tom said weakly.
“I wanted to see how Y/n was doing. She left kinda late Thursday’s night and I haven’t seen her since. Been about a week I think.” Shane informed Tom. He perked up at the mention of you.
“You saw her leaving?” Tom asked. “When was this again?”
“Thursday. Sped off in such a hurry, you’d think she was in a race.“ Shane laughed. Tom looked past Shane and noticed your car wasn’t in the driveway.
“Did she say where she was going?” Tom inquired.
“Oh, no. My wife and I only saw her leave. We were visiting our son all weekend and got worried when we got back and saw her car was still missing. I rang the doorbell a few times this week but there was never an answer.” Shane said and Tom felt like crying all over again. “When I saw that you had come back if figured I’d ask you. Is she okay?”
“I’m sorry Shane, I don’t know.” Tom answered honestly.
“She’s not home?” Shane asked.
“Uh, no.” Tom looked back in the house and then back at Shane. “Shes not home.”
“Do you think it’s serious? Has she ever done this before?” Shane wondered.
“No. Never.” Tom shook his head.
“Have you tried calling her? You two are always so cute, I thought for sure you’d know where she was.” Shane said worriedly. Tom bit his tongue to keep from crying.
“We had a fight before I left last week.” He admitted, feeling like he needed to tell anyone who would listen.
“Oh, did you?” Shane said sympathetically.
“A really bad one.” Tom continued as his voice weighed heavy with guilt.
“That’s okay. Every couple fights. My wife and I have been fighting for 52 years.” Shane tried to cheer him up.
“Shane,” Tom sniffled as he gathered his thoughts, “I don’t think Y/n is coming home anytime soon.”
“No?” Shane asked sadly.
“I think she might’ve left.” Tom said with a shaking voice. “Left me.”
“Oh, Thomas.” Shane nodded in understanding. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“I’m so sorry, will you excuse me?” Tom closed the door quickly before his neighbor could see his tears. He leaned against the door and slid down it as tears poured from his eyes. He sobbed into his hands for a moment until he noticed something. Your easel was standing in the middle of the living room with a sheet covering it. Tom got to his feet and carefully approached the easel. He soon reached it and pulled the sheet off. The canvas was a mirage of gray and white with a portrait of a woman crying. She was holding half of her own broken heart and cradling it to her chest. In the background, a faint silhouette of a man walking away with the other half of her broken heart trailing on a string behind him.
Toms words echoed in his mind from that night: “Paint how you feel.”
That’s how you felt. Heartbroken, abandoned, and tethered, all because of Tom. Tom ran his fingertips over the painting as if were a piece of you. He tilted his head and smiled at it fondly, always blown away at how talented you were, even when painting your lament.
He noticed another canvas leaning against the back wall, also covered in a sheet. He walked briskly to it and ripped the sheet off.
Underneath the off white sheet was a portrait of Tom himself sitting on the world. He had a crown on his head and a bright smile on his face. There were tiny, detailed fans and billboards with his name on either side of him. He was in a suit and had his hand clamped firmly around a the sun. You had painted with bright colors, colors of the sunset and the sky. Your words from the fight came back to him:
“You have ten thousand assistants who revolve around you like you’re the sun and not one of them was there to remind you about my show?”
On the other side of the globe sat a girl. Tom turned the portrait around and saw you. You were sitting alone, literally on the other aide of the world. Tom felt his heart break when he noticed you were staring off mournfully at the moon. On the top corner of the painting was a blue “first prize” ribbon. Tom distinctly remembered you telling him you didn’t place, despite you winning the entire competition.
That was enough for Tom. The tingling sensation started in his nose and he found himself able to see less and less of your painting as tears well up in his eyes. Body shaking sobs ripped through him as it finally sunk in that you had left him. He cried into his hands until he heard something coming from the guest bedroom.
A cough.
Tom almost thought he imagined it until he heard it again. Someone was coughing in the house. Tom scrambled to his feet and pressed an ear against the door. He heard silence for a while, then a sniffle. His heart pounded in his ears as he twisted the doorknob.
Tom opened the door slowly and heard a clanking from the floor. He looked down and saw a pile of your favorite coffee mugs, a few plates, and some bowls on the ground. He pushed them aside and fully stepped into the room. Sitting in the guest bed was a very pink-nosed and red-eyed you. You were lazily scrolling through your phone as you dabbed at your nose with a tissue. There was a bottle of bills and a bottle of cough medicine on the nightstand, as well as a sea of mugs. There was a garbage can next tot he bed with a mountain of tissues coming out as well as surrounding it. Tom felt like he was seeing a ghost and suddenly felt like a stranger in his own home. He looked around the room and saw all your missing clothes strewn around. You were wrapped in your favorite blanket and your pile of movies was next to a tub of ice cream by the TV. Tom blinked a few times in shock.
“Oh, you’re home.” You spoke and Tom snapped out of his daze. You didn’t sound angry, just congested.
“Y/n?” Tom whispered as if he spoke to loudly, you might disappear.
“Hi, Tommy.” You said sleepily as you rubbed your eyes. “Did you just get home?”
Tom watched your every movement as you scratched your head and reached for the cup of water next to the bed. He quickly got it before you did and handed it to you, taking a careful seat next to you on the bed. You gave him a grateful smile before downing the glass. You licked your dry lips a few times and sighed.
“Yeah. I just got in.” He said, never taking his eyes off you.
“I didn’t hear it. I’m on this medication that completely knocks me out. Oh, I’m sick, if you haven’t noticed.” You laughed sleepily. “I got the flu from one of my friends.”
“You’re sick? That’s why you’re in here?” Tom asked as hope burbled in his chest.
“I didn’t want to contaminate all your stuff.” You told him. “Can’t have you getting sick before Uncharted starts filming.” His heart warmed at the thought of you looking out for him even after the fight you had.
“Thank you, princess. I appreciate you looking out for me.” He told you sincerely.
“Uh oh.” You looked at him with a half smile. “You only call me “princess” when you’re really upset. What’s going on?”
Toms lip began to tremble at your words and you looked worried.
“Your toothbrush isn’t in the bathroom.” Was all he could find the strength to say.
“Yeah, because it was disgusting. I had to throw it out this morning.” You assured him.
“All your stuff is missing. Your clothes, movies, mugs.” Tom continued.
“Look around you.” You laughed again, gesturing to all your previously “missing” stuff.
“Shane is worried about you. He said you left Thursday and never came back.” Tom told you.
“Aw, is he? I drove to the hospital Thursday night because my fever was so high and the doctor made me stay overnight. I took an Uber back on Friday because I got sick in my car. Its at the shop getting cleaned until tomorrow. Would you tell him I’m okay?” You asked.
“Of course.” Tom nodded, feeling himself relax a little.
“Thank you.” You said. The room fell into an awkward silence. Tom toyed with what he needed to say in his head.
“I saw your paintings.” Tom spoke up.
“Oh.” You said causally, knowing the content of the paintings.
“You didn’t tell me you got first place.” He said softly.
“I didn’t want you to feel bad for missing it.” You admitted.
“Princess” ,Tom laughed sadly, “I feel terrible. I feel terrible about every thing. Every word I said to you, I regret it. I thought about you and our fight the entire time I was gone. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I was miserable without you. And when I came home today and all your stuff was gone…” Tom trailed off as he got emotional again. You pulled him to you chest and let him cry it out. “I thought you left. I thought you left me.”
“I would never leave you.” You promised.
“But our fight.” He cried.
“All couples fight. The ill-timing and stress didn’t help. But I’m not someone who just walks away. Especially not from something like this.” You assured him as you stroked his hair.
“I hurt you. I missed your show, I didn’t talk to you when I was home.” Tom listed off his mistakes. “I abandoned you.”
“It’s the job.” You laughed sadly.
“No. I’m not gonna let that be an excuse anymore.” Tom pulled his head off your chest and you wiped his eyes. “You deserve better. So, so much better. I’m sorry it took you almost leaving for me to realize how much I need you to stay.”
“I’m sorry about the fight.” You told him weakly. “I said some things I didn’t mean.”
“What didn’t you mean?” Tom asked as he gathered your hands in his and kissed them.
“I know I said there wasn’t nothing here for me to wait for, but there is. Of course you’re worth waiting for. You’re away a lot, and it sucks, but nothing compares to when you’re here. A few days with you is better than a lifetime with somebody else, I know it. It’s just hard to remember the good times when I’m sleeping alone every night.” You finally told him your feelings in a much calmer manner.
“Princess, I’m so sorry. This ends today. If someone needs a meeting with me, they can come to Kingston. I’m not gonna fly all over the globe to talk about movies for an a hour anymore when I could be at home with my beautiful girlfriend. You are so much more important than any job.” Tom promised you. “I didn’t answer you that night, and I honestly didn’t even know the answer, but now I do. I’d give it all up in a heartbeat for you, love. All the money and fame is nothing to me if I don’t have you.”
“Do you really mean that?” You asked him.
“I do. And I’m gonna prove it.” He swore. “I want you to come with me when I shoot Uncharted. And I want you there for the rest of my press tour. You can bring your easel and your brushes and paint all over the world.”
“Really?” You asked happily.
“Yes. People are gonna stop coming to see me and start coming to see you because you’re gonna be the most famous painter in the world.” Tom painted you a picture. “You have more talent than people could even dream of achieving. The world needs to see your work.”
“I’d love to come with you.” You told him with a smile.
“Then do it. We don’t ever have to be apart again. I can’t sleep if it’s not next to you anyway. We won’t have to look at the same moon anymore. I can just roll over and see you instead.” Tom cupped your face. “We’re gonna go to Berlin and Italy and Mexico, all the places you’ve wanted to see. You’re gonna see the prettiest sights and eat the greatest food and live the most wonderful life by my side. And we can go anywhere else you want to go too. Fuck it, baby, we’re going to the moon. Or mars. Wherever. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together. That’s all I need.”
“That’s all I ever wanted to hear.” You told him as a happy tear rolled down your cheek. “I don’t want someone like you. I just want you.”
“I just want you, too.” He grinned as happy tears welled in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, baby.” You apologized for the fight.
“I’m sorry too.” Tom nodded tearfully as he reached forward to kiss you.
“I’m sick.” You reminded him as you pulled away slightly to dodge his kiss.
“I don’t care.” Tom shook his head as he pressed his lips to yours before pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’m never leaving you again. Just give me a minute to hold my girl.”
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Essays in Existentialism: Plus One, Ch. 2
Previously on Plus One
It oscillated every other minute between being an amazing idea, but also being the worst idea of all time, and Lexa was mostly exhausted of bouncing back and forth. It might be easier, she decided, if she just got herself on board with it being a good idea, but a deep, gnawing hole seemed to manifest itself in her gut at the very thought of seeing her ex.
As she went through the motions of finishing the day, of doing inventory because it was Wednesday, Lexa tried not to distract herself with the thoughts of her impending trip. In just forty-eight hours, she’d be face to face with Costia, who she hadn’t seen in months, who she avoided before occasionally running awkwardly into each other at mutual friends’ events. She’d come face to face with her ex who was getting married.
And she was going to do it with a complete stranger on her arm.
With a heavy sigh, Lexa tossed her clipboard on her tiny desk in the storage closet and plopped down in the squeaky chair, tipping it back with a wail. Her sister was the worst.
It was quiet in the shop, closed for just a handful of hours, Lexa always took a day to inventory and repair the damage of the week. She enjoyed the late evening work, when her workers were gone, and the shop was empty and full of dreams. No one knew how the cabinets stayed so clean, or how the scratches on table tops got sanded and fixed, or how the wobbly table by the window was miraculous cured one day, or how the ceiling fans got dusted, just that it all happened, and Lexa was off, meaning she didn’t come in until at least ten, the following morning.
But Lexa sat in the chair and let her brain do the same mental gymnastics it always seemed to do in the new quiet she found herself craving. She opened her laptop and ignored the awaiting spreadsheet, and instead opted to look over the answer Clarke had given her to the “Know your partner” quiz Clarke googled and made them both do. A mix of basic information and Newlywed Game style innuendos, Lexa filled hers out after a bottle of wine and anxiously waited for Clarke’s.
That was what started the daydreaming. She scrolled through Clarke’s answers and furrowed, doing her best to memorizing all that she could, as if she’d be tested on it all, as if it’d be impossible to believe she could be happy with someone like Clarke.
And when those thoughts started to seep into her brain, Lexa leaned back again and dug the tips of her fingers into her eyes.
In a week it’d be over.
And with that and a deep, heavy sigh, Lexa looked at the screen again and went about learning Clarke.
She started professionally, of course, looking at her corporate page and resume, because this was, if not anything, simply a business transaction and Lexa thought it was easier to parse a person if she didn’t actually have to fall for her.
A graphic designer at Anya’s firm, Clarke held accolades and a long list of references. The link to her work showed a wide range of commercial campaigns and a certain amount of talent evident by her list of upcoming projects. A graduate of a small, private, liberal arts university, her academics leaned heavily scientific, which was a surprise until Lexa read some of the answers in the survey about a degree in physics given up for art.
Lexa promised that she wouldn’t have looked at Clarke’s Instagram if Clarke hadn’t requested her first. She wasn’t someone who lurked, or at least she thought she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, digging through someone’s past, analyzing every filter and caption like a private investigator. But then Clarke appeared.
And there were pictures of Clarke with friends getting drinks on a rooftop. And then the one with her laughing and baking. Or the Christmas party where she was on a corporate Santa’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes were shut. Despite herself Lexa found herself smiling along with the girl in the pictures. The one who went hiking with a pack of dogs, and the one who seemed to always be eating something. The one who had a lot of friends and enjoyed making them smile and laugh. The girl who posted storie about her morning run, and the girl who seemed to have a healthy work life balance.
Lexa closed the webpages and stared at her inventory for exactly two seconds before curiosity won again and Lexa started looking at Costia’s account. There were the standard pictures of her pre-wedding planning. There was Costia working out. There was her new bride-to-be, happy and smiling at a gift for her birthday.
And then a throwback that made Lexa’s stomach drop as she stared at a familiar image of Costia smiling in a bikini on a beach. It was from the last trip they took. Lexa was the one behind the camera.
Three weeks after that picture was taken, Lexa walked in on Costia and a girl in the middle of the afternoon. Right in their own bed. Only to then discover it’d been going on for months. And it wasn’t the first. And then, Lexa didn’t remember much except that she moved into the apartment above her coffee shop and woke up one morning alone on sheets that weren’t familiar, in a room full of boxes.
It seemed even more difficult to start inventory after that shot to the gut.
But her phone went off, and Lexa leaned back in her chair after shutting the laptop again, wondering if that sinking feeling ever went away when it came to someone you love, or loved, or once loved, even for a moment. She didn’t have anything to compare it to, and she didn’t have any idea what love really was.
It felt like a deep wound was scratched open, the scab pulled back, and a burning numbness gnawing at the bottom of her spine. It felt like it would swallow her whole, and Lexa hated, more than anything, giving anyone the power to do anything as such over her.
Hey! Do you think this will go with your outfit?
An image came next, of Clarke in a dressing room wearing a very pretty dress, with very messy hair with her tongue sticking out. Lexa didn’t notice the gnawing feeling disappear.
We don’t have to match completely.
We do! Don’t you know how to date?
Not really.
Another picture of another dress came a moment later. Clarke was pretty. She was happy and silly and kind. It felt oddly normal, for as crazy as the whole scheme actually was.
I like that one, Lexa wrote, making sure to add a heart-eyed emoji to emphasize her point. Maybe that was flirting. Maybe she was allowed. She definitely needed more rules.
Good, I do too. It matches your tie, you know? And these heels will still leave you a little taller than me.
Sounds good to me!
Kind of excited. I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.
I’ll be the one at the bar.
I’ve heard it’s possible to find your soulmate at the airport. Something about the crossing of paths and time and space.
If my soulmate is a bottle of wine, then I reckon I might.
A love story for the ages.
Lexa smiled once more at her phone before tossing it to the side and letting her head drop to the desk. With a groan she growled into her hands and broke it down. She just needed to make it seventy-two hours. That was it. She could sleep for about twenty of those. She could drink for another twenty or more, if she really tried.
But this was it. This was the end.
And regardless of the weight of everything else, there was something satisfying about knowing it was almost over.
XXXXXXXXXX
The airport was absolutely teaming with bodies and people, weaving their way through the swelling crowds, loading and unloading the terminals at a constant, steady thumping rate, so regular one could set a watch to the heartbeat of the building.
Clarke adjusted her bag on her shoulder and tapped the ticket against her thigh as she moved through the security line. The nerves were coming for some reason. That was why she was at the airport three hours before the flight. She was anxious and needed a stiff drink and a few moments to catch her breath. She needed to escape the whirlwind she’d allowed herself to create.
Carefully, she made her way through the airport, checking the boards and finding her way to a seat in the empty waiting room. Not even an attendant waited at the kiosk.
Once again, she let herself awkwardly scroll on her phone, learning everything she could about her future date and weekend plans.
Lexa was nearly non-existent online. She didn’t have any pictures of herself. She rarely posted anything on her personal account, and when she did, it was just a book or a coffee or from a trip. She wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, but when it came to her shop, she made sure to post almost daily, highlighting her employees and their recommendations, she made share to highlight events, she made sure to be as active as possible.
Anya had already warned Clarke that her sister was devoted to her work. She’d poured all of her effort into being successful and part of the community, and Clarke admired it, she just wished that there was more for her to see.
And so, once more, she flipped back to the long line of questions they’d filled out before giving up and gazing out the window at the planes coming and going.
For a moment, she allowed herself to think that she was doing something nice and good. It was an act of charity. It was the shake up Clarke needed and was selfishly trying to package as benevolent.
“You beat me, and I’m usually the first one here for a flight,” Lexa observed, walking up to Clarke, stealing her from her reverie.
“I like airports. Just waiting for true love to stroll up and introduce themselves.”
Lexa shoved her hands in her pockets, her bag balanced on her shoulder as she cautiously looked around, surveying the empty terminal slowly. Clarke watched her look around, smiled at the innocence of it. Enjoyed the way she ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up a bit and tossing it to another side.
“No one likes airports,” Lexa shook her head before taking the seat beside her.
“I do. They’re romantic.”
“Romantic?”
“You can get onto a plane, and a few hours later, you’re hundred of miles away, and it’s different weather, and it’s a different time zone. You can go to sleep in a different state. How can you not be romantic about that.”
“It’s a tin can filled with recycle air.”
“But there are peanuts.”
That did it. Lexa cracked a smile to herself and relaxed a little.
“I was going to be the first one here. Surprise you with coffee, but you beat me to it.”
“You are quite a good girlfriend. Someone clearly trained you well.”
Lexa shook her head, somewhat bashful, somewhat reserved. There was always something right there, just below the surface, obfuscated by a kind of resolve to never give anything away, not at any price. Clarke read it between words in their texts and emails, a glaring finality in the simple pixel of a period.
“Can I get you a coffee? Two creams, two sugar right?”
“You don’t have to--”
“It’s early and I’m trying to be charming. Allow me to somewhat repay you for this whole endeavour.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, darling.”
With the term of endearment, Lexa nodded, grinning into her chest as she stood and made her way across the terminal in search of sustenance. Clarke watched her take out her phone, texting her sister no doubt.
Once more, Clarke resumed the digging on her own, scrolling on her own phone at old pictures on Lexa’s profile. She was ready for fun, and she was ready to crack at that facade.
“I don’t know if this will help,” Lexa sighed as she sat down. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
“Oh this won’t be good for me either,” Clarke said as she took a sip. “I’m a fairly nervous flyer.”
“And yet you let me get us both coffee.”
“You made a good point, and I’m prepared to be paid back all weekend.”
With another grin, Lexa leaned back, her arm going on the back of the chair that Clarke inhabited, naturally, with ease, with a level of comfort.
“Are you ready to tell me the story?”
“Which one is that?” Clarke turned to look at her date, returned from an absent moment.
“How we met.”
“How we met,” she nodded, her smile bordering on mischievous. “That’s simple. Don’t you remember? It was a very blustery Tuesday, and I was trying to escape the wind and rain. I almost tripped coming into your coffee shop, but you happened to be sweeping, and were kind enough to catch me.”
“You’re severely overestimating my reflexes.”
“Fine. I ran you over and we both ended up on our asses in the middle of the coffee shop. Coffee everywhere.”
“Sounds pretty likely.”
“And I knew right there, I was hooked. Those eyes, all angry and annoyed at me for not looking where I was going, despite my persistent defense that I’d been assaulted by the weather.”
“Why do I have to be the angry one?”
“Wouldn’t you be though?” Clarke returned, daring her to be contradicted.
“Maybe,” Lexa agreed over the lid of her cup, fretting with it nervously.
“So I crashed into you, and you bought be a coffee. I turned up every day after that until I finally asked you out. You took longer than I would have liked to answer me, but I accepted it anyway, and we’ve been madly in love ever since.”
“And when was this?”
“About eight months ago.”
“How’s it going so far?”
“Splendidly. I’ve already met your sister, who it happens that I work with, which is super convenient for everyone.”
Quietly, Lexa sat there, going over the story, going over all of the past eight months of apparent bliss in her head. Clarke watched her furrow before softening, her eyes not seeing, but rather looking through the window as a plane took off and another landed. The softening of her features was soon met with a perplexion, a slight, gentle contortion of the brow and the lips, a tightening as a kind of confusion overtook the ease of the entire story.
“Is it that easy?” Lexa asked quietly, turning her head toward her date. Clarke cocked her head, waiting for more. “Is all of it… just… a wind? Waiting for someone to just ask you out? Is it that easy? Does that happen to people?”
“It can. How does anything happen in the world? It just… does. The universe is just a series of things happening, all of the time, right?”
“But is it that easy?”
To her credit, Clarke thought about it. She flexed her jaw and took a deep breath before slowing letting it go as she wondered if it really was.
“I don’t know. Maybe it can be.”
“How?”
“I guess there has to be a balance to making things happen and letting things happen.”
“I don’t know if I’m good at either of those things,” Lexa confessed. She sat up straighter a moment later, afraid of her honesty, and surprised more by how easily it came out.
“I think you can be.”
“That’s probably too kind.”
“We’ll see.”
Clarke rubbed Lexa’s shoulder, rubbed the middle of her back between her shoulder blades until she reached the collar of her shirt, where she massaged her neck. She tensed before relaxing, and Clarke didn’t stop, just rubbed there gently, slowly until she knew it was enough and she trailed her palm back toward the seat.
It was right there, they just didn’t know it.
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*all pictures owned by original owners
Chapter 3 - Service With A Smile
Pairing: Drake Walker x Riley Brooks
Author’s Notes: Hi loves! Thank you so much for checking out my past two chapters. It means the absolute world 💛 This story is slowly building into more and more, just wanting to get in some minor details and conversations!
Tag list: @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @lovingchoices14 @gkittylove99 @darley1101 @kingliam2019 @tinkie1973 @whiskeyslullabye
Warnings: language, slight sexual innuendo
* Pixelberry owns characters
Riley’s POV
A knock came on my door way too early for my liking. I swung my legs over my bed, recognizing that I was late for breakfast with Daniel. After I told him I needed to talk to him, though he was out with a date, he asked if we could grab breakfast. I checked through my peephole, recognizing my best friend scrolling through his phone, waiting for me to open.
I unlocked the door, and Daniel immediately walked in, urging me in and closing the door quickly. “If you need to talk to me about that man next door I just saw walk down the stairwell, I’m all ears.” He fanned himself as he fell back on my couch. “Did he look familiar to you?” I asked, taking a seat next to him, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
Daniel looked away from me at the wall, appearing as if he was trying to put the face to someone. “He doesn’t ring a bell. Should he?” I nodded as I sat back. “Well, tell me! Did you hook up? Was he an old fling?” Unfortunately no.
“No, but you might recall the best friend I borrowed your parents boat for.” “Wait, oh my gosh. The prince. That was the hot best friend that you had intentions with.” It started to come back to him. “Oh my gosh, this is your chance.” He grabbed the pillow next to him and placed it in his lap.
“You know I told you, no more random hook-ups. I’m past it.” “Look, I know you were going through a lot and I’m not saying go hook up with him, but you can’t deny he’s hot and yeah, he seemed like a dick that night, but there may be more to him than what meets the eye.” I laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows. “Now, go get ready and I’ll wait on you. A chai tea latte and cronut is calling us before we go to hell.”
I pulled one of my work shirts out of the closet, matching Daniel, and a pair of black shorts. I grabbed my tennis shoes and placed them into my bag that carried my extra clothes.
Daniel and I walked into the place we’d been into so many times before. “Ah, we were starting to get worried! We hadn’t seen either of you in a couple of weeks.” Abigail, the owner exclaimed as we walked in. “Life has been crazy, Abbi, but we’re back and better than ever.” Daniel said as we made it up to the counter. We grabbed our usual and walked out the door to head to work.
As we walked down the sidewalk, enjoying our sugary goodness, Daniel talked about the plan he had made for my birthday already. “Just promise me it’s not a night of clubbing this time.” “What? Last year’s shindig didn’t make you want to do it all over again?” I recalled the hangovers Daniel and I had both experienced last year while we were living together. We fought desperately all morning for the bathroom and we didn’t speak of alcohol for a few weeks.
“No, but really I want to go more your speed this year. I say we go back to my place, games, drinks, music, and just chill out. Good food, it’ll be great. We can all go out for dinner and it’ll be a good night. Maybe you can even invite you know who.” I shook my head. “It sounds like a perfect night, I’m down. But, I doubt Drake will say yes to that, we’ve barely talked, remember?”
The day went by slowly as the customers were in and out. Surprisingly enough, Joe didn’t come in until right when Daniel and I were leaving. He made his typical snide remarks as we walked out the door without so much as a goodbye. It was seven at night so we each grabbed some food on the way home. My apartment came before Daniel’s, though his wasn’t that much farther. We said our goodbyes and I walked towards the door of my building.
“Here, let me grab that for you.” Drake rushed up behind me, coming from the other way with a bag of food in his arms. He grabbed the door as I walked in. I could feel Daniel watching and knew I’d be getting a phone call later that night. “Thank you.” I said, giving a smile. “I’m going to take the elevator, it’s been a long day. Want me to hold it for you?” I asked, walking past the stairwell. “Uh, sure.”
“I recognize that shirt.” Drake said with a small grin. I looked down at my work shirt. “Oh, this old place? I hope you got good service.” “Service with a smile.” I shook my head as we both got off on the third floor.
“Hey, do you actually want to come over and eat dinner at my place? I know eating by yourself can get lonely, I’ve done it for a few months now.” Bold move, Riley. “Are you sure? I’d hate to intrude.” “You’re not at all intruding.” I said. “But, don’t feel forced either! I was just pitching the idea, I can give you some tips about the city, I don’t know.” Stumbling over my words was an art.
“I’d like that.”
#trr fanfic#drake walker x mc#drake x mc#drake walker#riley brooks#liam rhys#maxwell beaumont#the royal romance#fanfic
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Alea Iacta Est Ch. 1: Blue Soul Bound
Summary: You can run from consequences, but you can’t hide from them.
A/N: For Dark’s birthday. Title means “the die is cast” in Latin.
Chapters: 1, 2, 3
The instant Dark’s visitors were gone, and everyone had settled down for bed, Dark got out of bed and headed into his office and began pouring over the various scrolls and books he’d collected over the years.
Eventually, through the deep, piercing pain, Dark found the scroll he needed and used it to be able to amplify his ability to search his own aura. It used to feel as vast as the ocean, but now he felt diminished. Dark could still afford to get into fights and open dozens of portals to deal with the heroes, but it would be years before he was at his old strength.
Dark sat in his chair and turned his soul and his mind inward. It was a cold winter forest and a single wood cabin in the woods. Snow occasionally drifted down in a light flurry. The light was on in the canon and the crest of the Doom family erected over the door.
The Entity walked up to the door and his red soul was the one who threw it open and glared at him, shotgun in hand
“No,” she ordered firmly.
“If I couldn’t consume him after fifty years, I can’t do it now,” Dark reminded her with a light hiss in his voice.
It took her a while before she finally stepped aside and let Dark in, his blue soul was sitting by the fire, shivering under a blanket.
“What did you do?” His red soul demanded.
“I did nothing,” Dark defended himself heatedly. “It was the hunters and that infernal spell. I am trying to fix it.”
“You better,” she spat.
Dark scoffed angrily, before walking around to look his blue soul in the eyes, the weakened soul was not meeting him in the eyes.
“Hmmm,” his blue soul whimpered in pain.
“How bad is it?” Dark asked.
The soul didn’t answer.
“Are you trying to split off?” Dark demanded.
“Where would I go?” His blue soul asked morosely.
“I don’t want to hurt you if I don’t have to,” Dark told his blue soul. “But you tend to make things difficult.”
“Is Wil happy?” The soul asked. “Is Illy happy?”
Dark wasn’t 100% sure but he replied, “Yes. How aware are you of what they’re doing?”
The soul shrugged.
“Illinois is getting married in September, I’ll try and make sure you can see it,” Dark promised him.
“My baby,” the blue soul thought out loud, looking at the fire.
Looking back at his red soul, Dark saw the worry on her face.
“Damien, I think you need to go to sleep,” Dark’s red soul told him.
Dark and his red soul got the blue soul to go to sleep and Dark began drawing spells on the walls with magic, making sure that as much of his souls stayed intact. Then he emerged from his own magic and decided he was tired and went back up to his bed. Wil was still snoring in his sleep and seemed none the wiser of Dark’s absence.
Unlike most times, Dark didn’t have trouble forcing himself to sleep. He hadn’t even been planning on really sleeping, as a fully matured demon he could choose whether he was going to actually sleep or not. It required a body — which Dark had — but Dark could either go the rest of his existence without sleeping, or give the body he was in an actual rest.
He meant to rest with his eyes open, to make sure his souls were actually healing. But when his head hit the pillow, he blinked and was suddenly asleep in peaceful silence for a few hours.
Then he started dreaming.
The Entity rarely had dreams but tonight he was walking through the halls of the Manor, children’s laughter coming from somewhere.
Directly in front of him was an old grandfather clock. It wasn’t ticking and the hands on the face of the clock weren’t moving.
He was about to get up and move, but then a thick grey fog rolled in around him and he felt three sets of small hands grab onto him.
And pain sliced through him, Dark awakened in an instant and in such absolute pain that it paralyzed him. His souls were screaming and the Entity felt absolute panic as he tried to hold onto his red and blue souls.
Then Dark felt something in his souls give and he screamed as part of his aura shot off of him, turning from a deep black-purple to three swirls of black and white that fell towards the end of the bed.
Dark stayed in paralyzing pain for a couple more seconds as he frantically checked on his twin souls. They were none the worse for wear, Dark’s aura shielding them from most of the damage. So he wasn’t in as bad of shape as he feared. After a couple steadying breaths, Dark shoved himself up with his aura.
He knew what they were without even checking. They were spawnlings, but Dark already had too many to manage. He was already trying to recover from the attack from the hunters. These were three newborn spawnlings that would be ravenous, and Dark and King were already working to get Lunky to feed less.
They weren’t even sentient yet, all he had to do was make it—
“Darkling?” Wil sat up and Dark’s aura froze, halfway across the bed to the three spawnlings. “Are you okay? I heard a scream?”
The little spirals spun out into clouds of aura. One was mostly dark with specks of swirling white, another a perfect mix of black and white, and the one still the closest to Dark was white with flecks of black.
“Hello,” Wil greeted, his aura naturally diffusing in the room and to Dark it was like a calming balm for his wounded aura. “When did you three get here?”
Wilford pulled the little clouds, each of them currently half the size of Wil’s forearm. They sat in his lap and Dark hesitated in taking them from Wil. His blue soul had been roused from his slumber from the pain and the sight of spawnlings in Wil’s arms.
That, and just being in Wil’s aura was already making them swell in size. They were only an inch bigger but they were almost to a point where Dark would have to kill them to reabsorb them.
So he had a choice . . .
Fuck! Dark mentally cursed as Wil chuckled.
“Aren’t they delightful?” Wil smiled at Dark.
“아빠![1] Wil!” A knock came at the door and Dark snapped his fingers and made sure Wil was fully dressed.
“What’s wrong, Illinois?” Dark called out.
The door opened hesitantly and Illinois walked in. “You tell me, I heard a—”
Illinois froze at the sight of the swirling aura in Wil’s arms. “—a . . . a scream.”
“Come meet your new siblings, Illy,” Wil smiled.
Illinois froze and suddenly every part of Dark’s being was on edge. Illinois closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath before walking over. “That explains the scream, everyone okay?”
“I’ll heal,” Dark dismissed. “It does explain why my aura has been out of sorts.
Illinois spent a second or two looking at the new spawnlings before walking around the bed to where Dark was still sitting, Illinois’s aura unfurled out towards Dark and the Entity hesitated.
“I,” Dark fought not to reach out to the offering. “I’m fine.”
Illinois knelt down and looked Dark in the eyes, “You and I both know that’s not true. You’ve been hiding your aura from us and you almost died. You need it.”
Dark flinched, another denial caught in his throat, frozen by the look in Illinois’s eyes. His blue soul was churning with conflicting emotions: the urge to still try and look invincible, despite wanting to give Illinois what he was asking for.
“By Joe, my dear, if you weren’t feeling well, you only had to say so,” Wil leaned in and his aura tangled with Dark which sent a shiver down Dark’s spine at the sudden rush.
He felt lightheaded and suddenly he was on his back and Illinois was pulling out amulets filled with aura.
“Dad?” Illinois asked in concern.
Dark’s vision was spinning and all he could see was Illinois. Wil leaning over soon after.
“I’ll get him some tea,” Wil decided.
“Get him something not warm, it’s a thousand degrees right now,” Illinois ordered.
“Right, right,” Wil agreed, and suddenly he was gone.
“I can get up,” Dark promised despite the vertigo.
Illinois placed a hand on the center of his chest to keep him pinned down, “No, you shouldn’t, stay down. You look like you’re going to vomit.”
“I’ll be fine, I just need to get back on my feet,” Dark told him, internally he was screaming. Dark couldn’t afford to be seen like this, not so soon after being knocked out like he had been by the hunters.
“Dammit, Dad, stay down, let us take care of you for once,” Illinois grumbled. “I know for a fact that after demons split they aren’t good to act like nothing happened.”
Dark tried to fight the exhaustion and humiliation he felt, but when Wil came back in, the little clouds of aura following him, Dark felt Wil’s aura fueling his own recovery.
As Dark was drifting off he heard Wil and Illinois talking.
“It’s so stuffy in here, let me get the window,” Wilford offered and strolled over to the bedroom window.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Illinois warned as Dark drifted off to sleep.
But Wilford was at the window in an instant and the second the window was open, the darker cloud of aura shot off and the other two clouds followed.
Wil just braced his hands on the window, stalling as Illinois glared at the back of his head.
“One second,” Illinois told him firmly, not wanting to scream and wake up Dark. “He is out for one second and you lose a trio of newborns.”
“I’ll go find them,” Wil began to climb out of the third-floor window.
“No,” Illinois told him.
Wil brought his foot back in.
“You are staying here, Dad needs the aura. I’ll go find them hopefully before he wakes up, I’ll call the Host,” Illinois pointed to Dark as he stood up and walked over to close the window.
“Right,” Wil agreed and Illinois gave a last parting look to Dark before racing out of the bedroom and getting ready to track down the spawnling trio.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Post A/N: Okay so, I know I said somewhere that I didn’t plan on using Unus and Annus in my stories but honestly the fan art of them with the other egos is so cool and I just couldn’t help myself.
Accessibility Translations:
1. Dad! (Korean — Informally used, phonetically read as: Appa.)
#superhero au#masks and maladies#birthday post#footnotes#Darkiplier#wilford warfstache#ahwm illinois#illinois the adventurer#Memento#Mori#SCP Amy#who I will refer to in future fics as Tempus#damien the mayor#celine the seer#Darkstache#Dark trying to bury his feelings instead of facing them
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Hey! I hate to ask this, you already do so much for us! But would you mind just a tiny recap of Vlamis’ live from last night? You don’t have to go into a ton of detail or anything, I just saw that it was a half hour long. I have a weird anxiety thing that keeps me from watching lives and stories for the most. Still haven’t even been able to work myself up to watching the vlamburn one as much as I’d love to! 🙁
Either way, thank you for everything!
Okay, nonnie. I went and watched the whole thing again and wrote you a detailed account of what’s been said. I’ll link the live again, then you can watch here if you want to. Or not. Up to you. 🤗 Hope this helps. 💕
youtube
Brushing his teeth and flossing for 3 minutes while talking.
800 new follower lately “where have you been before?”
“Do you do anything to your hair at night?” He adds Moroccan hair oil in the morning, nothing at night.
“What’s your favorite of the drop?” He hasn’t seen everything from the drop (like the COSMIC tie-dye) bc he’s in Santa Fe. He loves the COSMIC and MALEX embroidered things (“so subtle”) bc they are in Vlamburn’s handwriting, he loves the Manesqueeze shirt bc you can make Alex and Michael kiss by putting your wrists together. He *loves* the candle (there’s one burning on his bedside table), the silky PJs are great, but he can’t decide on just one favorite thing.
“How’s Jesa’s sanity?” She needs like 3 weeks of sleep. He explains, that while we *are* the Vlambase, the Vlambase merch company’s just Jesa and Vlamis. Jesa has a team, but all the day-to-day things, ideas, emails/customer service (Jesa), the newsletter (Vlamis). They hadn’t collaborated with anyone before Tyler, so working with him was a new experience.
One fan mentions how they wanted to buy stuff but couldn’t. Vlamis says that he’s been there, and when he wanted something in the past he couldn’t afford, he started putting away a Dollar a day.
“Thought on One Direction?” Vlamis is a Harry Styles guy. “Harry Styles’ swagger is next level!”
“What do you think about Russia? Will Vlambase merch be available here?” Talks a bit about how annoying things are with shipping companies, says they wanted to protect themselves for the holidays, and now that the Christmas rush is over, some shipping options have become available again.
“Who came up with MANESQUEEZE” He ponders about it, and settles on Jesa. It was Vlamis’s ides to put tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves so that they can kiss tho. And Tyler came up with the idea to put a “toupee” on his head (in a previous drop, the NEVER LOOK AWAY design had tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves, but poor Alex was bald) for the design.
Someone got a MALEX pin and the candle. He knows the pin sold out fast, and he feels bad about that. They want everyone to get everything they want, but it’s difficult to make proper calculations how well an item will sell. The pandemic made things even harder. Like the PJ sets. Normally, they would wait until the sale ends and see how many sets were actually ordered, but during the pandemic, stock listings have been changing dramatically from day to day, so they had to pre-order the PJs and robes to make sure they had a certain number at their disposal. He said that they “overshot” on a couple of things, but ultimately sales have been great, and he appreciates that.
“I’m excited to make the MANESQUEEZE doodles kiss bc I do that with the NEVER LOOK AWAY shirt” Vlamis jumps up and shows his closet that’s full of Vlambase merch items.
“Why am I here, it’s almost 3am” He mentions that he’s been staying up until 4 in the past couple of days, but he has to be on set in 7 or 8 hours.
“Hello, just wanted to let you know that I got a tattoo for you” Vlamis asks for a photo and to be tagged.
“Kyle the packer [Vlamis’s roomie KA, who works in the warehouse when a new drop is ready for shipping]” Vlamis says they’re working him to death.
“Please save this live” He doesn’t know whether he’ll save it. Thinks the one with Tyler was important, but since it’s just him, he doesn’t think it’s important.
“I followed Jesa, Jesa is the real MVP” Vlamis says that Jesa is “a beast, and best in the game”. Quickly explains who Jesa is, and that she’s his partner in the Vlambase merch company. He mentions that she recently called him with an idea for Valentine’s Day, and he was like “Jesa, we need to relax!” But she loved the idea. She’s a big fan of RNM and the characters (and Tyler). “Jesa’s amazing.”
“What about new Soli art [Soli’s the artist who created the Boys Will Be Boys art for a previous drop]?” Vlamis smiles. “What about new Soli art. I like that idea. 😏“
“Your house [in New Mexico] is so cute.” Vlamis says thank you and shows the ceiling of the house (which he likes best). “Santa Fe is dope!”
“I adore your teeth” *shows his teeth* Says he had to wear braces (some even adjustable)
“I could’ve used my birthday money to buy something but I forgot” 🤨 << Vlamis’s face. “How you you forget, man?”
“Back to Twitter after this live” He mentions that he’d just been on Twitter before the live.
He got retweeted by Mountain Dew and loves it.
“I’m from Australia and hope my merch arrives before winter” Vlamis says he hopes shipping will be fast.
“Love the Valentines” They’re not actually Valentines, hence they’re “Love Notes”. Vlamis considers doing them not just around Valentine’s Day.
“You catch any of the CW shows returning this month?” “Might have to” But he knows what he’ll be catching on the 12th. “Prodigal Son, baby!”
“Where did you get the Game Boys?” Those are his Game Boys. He has a Game Boy Advanced and a Game Boy Color.
“How do you feel about Forlex?” *scoffs* 😒 “Yeah”
“So excited for the robe!” Vlamis gets excited. “The robes and the PJs are so comfy!” Talks about how it’s a bit weird, bc they don’t make them themselves.
Several people mention that their closet looks like his closet bc of all the merch and he loves that.
“How do you feel about Forlex” *gets agitated* “Why are you asking me this? Don’t do that to me, alright?” *softer* “Don’t do that.”
“How are you doing?” He’s doing very well. Very relieved that eh sale went well. This drop was like 3-4 months of work, the night before the sale felt like an entire month, too. Jesa and Vlamis Facetimed for more than 5hrs. They set up the website, and that’s how the glitch with the GIVE ME MALEX OR GIVE ME DEATH shirts and poster happened. They made a mistake and only noticed after the website went live.
“Do you know when S3 will air?” No, he thought it might’ve been sooner, but apparently not.
“I love your poetry from the last drop so why no poems this time?” He writes poems when he’s inspired, he hasn’t written a poem in a while. He’s currently preparing to direct his first movie in June 2021, and he’s been very focused on that.
“The Meet & Greet day changed.” Filming schedule changed bc they had snow, the schedule’s changing constantly. He’ll be set all day tomorrow (well, today, Jan 11) from 8am until 8 or 9pm. Sometimes they might even wake up in the morning and learn that the schedule’s been changed.
“You could talk about nothing and we’d still watch.” He doesn’t want to talk about nothing, wonders if anyone has any questions about the sale.
“I’m so excited about the robe. I was going to buy more but I’m broke.” He says we should be responsible.
Someone’s still waiting about their Black Friday stuff, but he says it’s the shipping company, not them.
“Vlamentines" He *loves* that, thinks it’s a good pun.
“Gotta support Aurora.” Always. 🥰
“Jealous Guerin in S3?” You’ll see, you’ll see.
“I placed 3 orders, last one last night. Give me Malex or give me death.” He loves it. He also mentions, that they’re working hard on figuring out how to combine orders in the future so people don’t have to pay for shipping several times. They just can’t do that logistically at the moment.
“Real talk, how often do you check your DMs?” He says, that some people might’ve noticed that he occasionally likes random photos on people’s IG pages. When that happens, it’s a sign that he read someone’s DM. He feels bad when he checks his mentions with a delay, and people’s stories have already vanished after 24hours. He sometimes doesn’t get to checking DMs for a week.
“Will we ever get the original pic of the kiss recreation?” *smiles* *waggles his eyebrows* “Maybe in the morning”
“So happy the Trevor Project was chosen for this merch drop!” He’s very happy, too. According to him, it was a no-brainer. Tyler’s worked with them in the past, so it made even more sense. They wanted to make sure that Tyler felt very strongly about wherever they’d be donating.
People urge him to go to sleep. “You want me to go to bed?”
“Why is your merch not available in India?” *deep breath* “It should be, it’s ridiculous. Unbelievable.”
“Your poetry was awesome.” He appreciates the praise and promises to write some more poetry.
Someone asks whether the movie he’ll be directing in June will be a comedy, but he says it’s the opposite. He’s mentioned in the past that Aurora and him will both act in the movie, but apparently he forgot about that. He doesn’t want to jinx the movie and doesn’t know how much he should reveal just yet. Talks a bit about 5 Years Apart.
Someone mentions that it’s Jeanine’s birthday on January 14th.
“Do (or don?) a face mask, Vlamis.” He refuses. Mentions his friend and roommate Spencer Waldner, who makes face masks.
“If there’s leftover merch, will you do another sale?” He says that most things are actually sold out bc they use Blank Clo’s blanks and will only make what’s been ordered. They might try to restock some pins tho, bc they went so quickly.
“USPS are a joke” He defends them. “They’re a public service, they’re trying hard, guys.”
“You should do a Vlambase drop with the Real Vlamis [a.k.a. Jeanie]” He’s excited and thinks it’s a good idea and asks if anyone’d be interested.
Someone congratulates him on directing his first movie. He points out that he’s directed before (Making It, a 3-part web series, it’s on YouTube).
“Would you ever come to Australia Comic Con?” He’d love to. Mentions that he’s supposed to be in Paris in May for a convention, but he’s not sure whether that’s gonna happen considering how things are currently going with the pandemic.
Some more talk about 5 Years Apart.
Circles back to doing a merch drop with Jeanine. People like the idea.
“Please save this live.” After an IG update, things have changed and he doesn’t know how to do it. In the past he had the option to save it [for 24hrs], now he can only upload it to IGTV.
“$30 shipping to Australia hurts my soul but I did it anyway.” He appreciates that and mentions, that he lived in Australia for 6 months in the past.
“Sing some Bright Eyes” He thinks his singing would hurt people’s ears.
Jesa Joy pops up in the chat and urges him to go to bed.
“Jesa is yelling at you.” Vlamis says that Jesa’s a “yeller”, and that she has a tattoo that says “Don’t yell tho”. He admits that Jesa often yells for a good reason. “I need to be yelled at sometimes.”
Someone asks him to accept a request to join his live. He says he’s pretty tired.
He says hello to someone from Germany (not me btw :P) “What’s up, Germany ✌️”
More people ask him to sing, but he says he cannot sing. He says it’s not like a joke or him being modest, he straight up can’t sing and is a horrible singer.
“Will there be a sequel to 5 Years Apart?” Maybe a sequel called “10 Years Apart” (he’s joking and visibly tired)
“Should I buy anything before the sale ends?” Yes.
Jesa Joy’s from Michigan, and Vlamis’s grandma’s from Middlesborough, Kentucky.
“Is Tyler singing again?” He doesn’t know. “I hope so. Love that kid’s voice” (Tyler’s 3.5 years older than Vlamis :P)
He’s getting sleepy and will read a little bit before bed. Considers drinking some Mountain Dew.
“Do you take design ideas.” Sure. Sometimes he sees design ideas from people they’ve been working on for months, but he’s gonna “steal” an idea from someone, he’ll tell them. He’ll steal it, though.
“Are you still reading SAGA?” He read the first one and is half-way through the second. He’s currently reading a book called “My First Movie” by Stephen Lowenstein. “How cliché.” Aurora got it for him.
Purple Skittles are his favorite. Purple everything.
“Your girlfriend’s the best girlfriend.” She is, she really is.
Asks Jesa Joy whether he should go to bed now.Even though it’s late, he’s hungry. Considers eating something. People tell him to go to bed.
He asks “Should I get naked and put on the PJs?” *waggles eyebrows* “I’M KIDDING, YOU’RE SICK. YOU’RE ALL DISGUSTING.” xD
“Don’t eat!” He laughs.
Says goodbye and says that Jesa’s posted a surprise picture.
“Any advice for aspiring actors?” Tells them to make their own stuff bc no one’s gonna hire them. (He’s being sarcastic). “It’s dark, but it’s what you need to hear.”
“Okay, love you guys. Thank you again! It was our best sale yet. Means a lot to me. Means a lot to Tyler. Us doing so well might mean that Tyler will work with us again. So I really appreciate it. Okay, I love you all.”
Jesa promises to post the pic in 4 minutes. He’s excited. “See, I got her to do it! The picture is kind of ridiculous.”
*pretends to take off his shirt, stops halfway through* “Noooooo, noooooo, noooooo!”
*throws kiss* “Love you guys, good night.”
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Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life Review
Happy Birthday To Me, as I continue my birthday celebration by taking a look at comics that have a personal connection to me.. And for our main feature, i’m taking a look at the first volume of a series that was vitally important to a teenage me, Scott Pilgrim.
Scott Pilgrim is the brainchild of Brian Lee’O’Malley. O’Malley came up with the concept from a number of things. Being a fan of the band Plumtree, O’Malley was curious about the name of their song “Scott Pilgrim” and wondered who this Scott Pilgrim guy was. So over the years he slowly built the guy up in the back of his mind using bits of his life and what not. As for why he ends up fighting 7 evil exes, that came from a discussion with his then girlfriend, later wife and currently ex-wife Hope Larson, where he threw off the joke that her exes should form some kind of League. After finishing his first solo work Lost at Sea, O’Malley decided Scotty would be his next project and the rest is history. To date while O’Malley has written two works since, Seconds which is delightful and Snotgirl which didn’t grab me but I intend to try again, Scott remains his most popular work, in large part due to it’s SUBLIME video game and movie adaptations, the former of which is finally getting a rerelease next month.
The series charm is in it’s style: A manga styled comic that combines two desperate kinds of story: Shonen Fight Manga and Slice of Life Indie Comics. The story shifts from Scott going through normal life stuff while trying to make his new relationship work and get his shit together and Scott getting into big bombastic fights with his new sweetie’s exes for the right to keep dating her and to you know, stay alive. The series effortlesly blends a video game like world with real grounded characters and is wonderful for it. As for where I came in, one Free Comic Book day I found a little comic named Free Scott Pilgrim, which I genuinely loved and was instantly charmed by it’s humor and well done art. So I picked up the second and third volumes of the series proper and the first once I could find it and the rest ,as they say, is history. For my high school life, this was one of hte most important things in it and I wrote fanfiction, which I thankfully never put online and in general enjoyed the hell out of the series. Then I just kind of.. let it sit on my shelf for a while. It wasn’t BAD, I just never got back to it and as the franchise went dormant I just sorta slept on it and the movie and that part of me...
Cut to a few weeks ago, when Comixology did a massive sale for black friday that marked a ton of Graphic Novels down to just 1 buck each, and the color editions of Scott Pilgrim happened to be part of this, though only volume 1 was that cheap. But thanks to my best friend micheal and an early christmas/birthday present I got the rest and got to revisit the series as a whole, with me rethinking my previous thoughts of volume 1 and thus.. wanting to review it and share both why this series is so damn special and what’s good, and what’s not so good about it. I’ll also be covering the game, once i’ts re-released, and the movie once i’m finsihed with the comics so look out for that. And get ready to take a trip to the glorious land of canada...
As a heads up and as you can tell i’ll be using the color version as while I could get scans of the black and white, I prefer the color version. While the black and white was fine and always will be, I think the impressive coloring job really adds to thing and makes the already great fight scenes pop more, as well as making certain background elements stand out a bit. While it does negate the black and white gags, the tradeoff is more than worth it. That being said either version is fine so if you can get the black and white cheaper that’s fine and i’ve kept my original copies, with volumes 4 -6 having been picked up as they came out.
So as our story starts we meet our hero: Scott Pilgrim Age 23, a charming but jobless and kind of sketchy possible college graduate whose really been adrift in his life since a breakup about a year ago. And when our story opens he’s taken a turn for a worse and decided to date sweet but naive and inexperinced Knives Chau, a 17 year old girl. And why yes the power dynamics there are messed up and why yes Scott is pretty damn sketchy in this moment in time, and while yes I am aware the age of consent in canada is 16, it dosen’t make this any less greasy and the story knows that. And how it knows that MOST of his friends aren’t on board. The only ones who seems to is Stephen Stiles, leader of Sex Bomb-Omb, the band scott’s in with one of the best names ever and even then it’s hard to tell if he’s being sarcastic or just a total douche. The other, Young Neil Nordgraf, Stephen’s roomate, is well 19 or 20 and kind of a dipshit so we just ignore him. I used to use him as kind of a projection, to put myself in the adventure when I was younger as Neil kind of lacks personality in the comics but in the comics.. he’s not hte best or most complex character. He is great in the movie though and Edgar Wright did an amazing job fleshing him out. The rest of his circle are .. not so permissive. His best friend, roomate and king of all gays for all time Wallace Wells very much does not want to come with Scott to school to pick her up because every part of that sentence after hurt to type. Granted Scott gets him to come with him with promises of boys, but frankly knowing wallace he was probably just playing along/wants to protect this poor child. His ex and fellow bandmate Kim is clearly bothered by it and is flat out worried Scott is taking advantage of her. Kim and Wallace are easily my faviorites both for personality and because I have a massive crush on both. With Wallace it just didn’t manifest till the reread. Finally Scott’s kid sister Stacey chews him out over it before genuinely wondering if he’s gone insane or he’s actually happy. For my two cents: he’s not. He WANTS to be, but he dosen’t know how. And as someone whose both neurotypical, which given Scott’s troubles with empathy and relating to people like yours truly I strongly suggest he is, and has struggled with depression I can relate to that. He wants to move on but he just.. can’t, he just wants to get past the haze he’s been in since Envy dumped him.. but he dosen’t know how. So instead of doing someting constructive or finding a job or anything .. he just took the first and easiest way out of his depression he could. I’ve done that with video games and stuff. Scott did that by entering a relationship that’s really easy, requires only so much effort, and is with someone who utterly adores, looks up to him and will never expect better. Being with Knives makes him feel better.. but it dosen’t MAKE him a better person. As i’ve made clear dating someone just for a boost makes him actively worse and had fate not intervened, I shudder to think what Scott might have become. That being said his actoins are still creepy and since Scott has a habit of landing ass backwards into being an asshole here’s a counter to track that. That’s 2 for doing this overall, one for tleling her to be good, and 1 for trying to ply wallace with underage boys.
Your the Scum of the Earth Scott Counter: 1
Thankfully fate does and Scott’s dreams, ones of him crawling through a desert alone, are interupted by a mysterious pink haired girl on skates. The next day he’s just sort of in a daze, kind of confused, and even more so when he sees her IN REAL LIFE, while at the library with Knives. He’s understandably frazzled but ends up finding out he’s not hallucinating when talking to MIcheal Cormeau. Micheal is a minor character and another artist and friend of o malley’s who represents that one guy in social circles who knows everybody. And indeed he knows the mystery girl, Ramona Flowers and that she’s there. Scott TRIES talking her up but just creeps her out, so Scott goes with plan b and decides to ask around about her. Enter Sandra and Monique, two college aquantinces of Scott, who just sorta show up at major events and aren’t that developed or intresting. They turn him to Julie who forbids him to date her. To which I say.
Naturually we’ll aslo be needing a counter for this.
Shut Up Julie Counter: 1
Scott however did find out she’s a delivery girl for Amazon Canada, and thus orders some CD’s on Wallace’s Credit card to hopefully see her. And while his behavior IS obessive.. it’s understandable. I’d be weirdly obessed with finding someone too if they showed up in my dreams every day and were apparently a real person. I’d probably play it cooler but still i’ts kind of understandable. So after a day with knives in which he’s clearly checked out she kisses him, he freaks out and it’s very clear that while Scott’s good at attracting women he’s just.. not good with his emotions and has finally woken up to how messed up this is, but has no idea how to get out now he’s intrested in someone he actually has a future with maybe. Speaking of Scott’s package and Ramona finally arrive. Scott’s move is to.. ask her out abrubtly but after he mentions her Dreams, Ramona finally puts two and two together and explains things: She’s been using Subspace, a seris of highways connected by the subconcious and apparently more common in america, though it’s later revealed she was taught this but being the first book with a lot of the lore and what not ironed out this is fine. Point is she was just using his dreams as transit and didn’t mean to get him obessed. Scott continues to try his schtick and eventually gets her to agree to hang out with him. Why she does I generally do not know, as SCott basically fell ass backwards over himself conversationally, but whatever. If he didn’t succeed we wouldn’t have a plot.
That being said things pick up a bit with the date though. The scene is really good and simply just the two.. talking. Having plesant conversations getting to know one another. That good stuff. it’s just really nice to read and it’s hard to explain why. Highlights include Scott’s x-men patch, Ramona not wanting to talk about her last job and Scott admitting he hasn’t been obessed in a long time.. and it comes off sweet rather htan creepy like that sounds. It just means he hasn’t fell this head over heels felt like this. As I said Knives was easy.. but this is hard.. and this.. feels right. So as things Snow Ramona yanks scott through subspace to escape the blizzard.
So we end up back at Ramona’s place and she offers some tea which leads to one of the best gags of the volume as she lists them off:
So Ramona goes to get Scott a blanket, Scott ends up following finds her changing, and she decides to warm him up another way.. by embracing him... cue.. the inevitible really.
It feels organic though: The two are clearly attracted to each other and while Scott came on as strong as freaking colossus, he still rebounded well once they hung out and he could relax a bit and show the scott underneath the lairs of dumbass. The two end up cuddling in bed and Scott seems..genuiley happy saying he needed this... awwwwwww. They part the next morning with him asking her to his band’s performance.
So Scott finds Wallace at home who says what Scott needs to hear “You need to break up with your fake highschool girlfriend scott’ Granted the entire first 40 pages could’ve been titled that but now he’s actively cheating. He’s also got a letter.
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It’s a death threat Scott barely grazes through, just like an email earlier.
But scott’s more concerned with his emotional distress.. i.e. the consequences of his throughly shitty actions finally hitting him in the face.
Scott heads to practice for his gig and can’t bring himself to break up with knives, but does find out about the opposition: Crash and the Boys, based on an NES game title because of course it is. Crash, their leader, Joel their baseplayer who scott hates because he hates all other baseplayers (”I don’t hate myself kim) and Trasha, an 8 year old progedy they found playing Drum Mania. Don’t ask me what that is, i’m not going to get every refrence.
So at the show Scott runs into Stacey and her new boyfriend Jimmy with Stacey being supportive. And then Knives shows up and then RAMONA SHOWS UP. Oh no scott’s cheating might be discovered!
So Scott books it while we’re introduced to Crash and the Boys. Wallace heckles them, to the band’s annoyance, until they eventually get fed up and we easly get the best gag of the volume. I was wrong this clearly tops the tea thing.
So Crash and The Boys continue to play their set, including a song that supposdely kills the audience but really knocks them out.. which of course bothers kim because they play next. Meanwhile Ramona and Stacey meet and the two really get along.. and come back to find the audience ko’d and Wallace Making out with Stacey’s boyfriend. Oh no! Which is a dick move, no question. But Stacey’s next move is questionable even for a 19 year old: She says “You won’t steel another guy from me and tells wallace to sit over there”. Okay Stacey even if he is bi, and this series has trouble with the concept of bisexuals we’ll get into that later trust me, he made out with someone else entirely while on a date with you. Wallace is still an asshole, it’s part of his charm.. but it dosen’t change the fact your date kissed someone else seconds after you were gone and has been eyballing him all night, as seen even above. He’s not into you as you thought, just accept it, move on, and kick Jimmy in the balls and then wallace like a proper lady. So Scott prepares to play and this happens
And it’s here, at the very end of the comic the series main premise finally kicks in and the world takes it’s true shape. It’s a world where an indie comedy about a mess of a being putting his life together after finding his dream girl.. also has said mess being forced to get into fist fights with wizards, movie stars, vegans, half-ninjas, twin roboticists and a katana wielding douchenozzle record exec in order to continue to have the right to date his girlfriend.
It’s where the series charm comes from and really what made it a huge sucess so it’s no suprise this volume perks up immensley for the climax. I’ll get more into it’s pacing problem at the end. For now it’s fight time and as we find out in a hilarious and awesome turn.. Scott is the best fighter in toronto.. which just makes me REALLLY want a Scott Pilgrim version of letterkenny. I mean who wouldn’t want to see wayne fight some guy who can turn his hands into dragons or see Squireely Dan do E.Honda’s hand slap move from streetfighter or see the skids all fuse into one mega emo. It’s just.. the possiblities are as endless as they are wonderous and I want this now.
But yeah as Patel is both the first boss and Scott’s first real opponent Scott.. handles him really easily. This was by design as O’Malley wanted a shonen progression to the fights.. and honestly it’s a great way to do things. Since the fights are styled after shonen and video games, and both have power based progression in bad guys and threats, it just made sense. Patel.. is just pathetic even with his magic powers, and his habit of sending letters and emails just pounds it in. Though he is right to be a bit pissed Scott didn’t read a letter he hand delivered in a snowstorm. That’s just a tad rude.
Mid-Fight, Scott, now he knows the whole evil ex boyfriend thing, wonders what Matt and Ramona’s past is and while Matthew refuses to tell.. Ramona spills easily. It was midddle school, all the jocks wanted her for whatever reason, likely because from experince in high school, guys really like indie girls. Matthew was the only non-white non jock, so they teamed up and with her strength and his mystic powers they beat them.. but since his use had dried up, she flipped him off and left. Matthew dosen’t take this well and summons demon hipster chicks to fight while Scott and co, minus ramona, fight back with a finger gun routine and block his fire balls before propelling Scott into matthew somehow, and landing the KO Evil Exes Left: 6 Matthew bursts into coins though fun fact, O’Malley says the Exes all respawned back at home afterwords and learned their lesson. With Pattel I genuinely don’t think he did... but clearly given his penchant for formality what with the letters and emails, he probably felt it’d break protocol to attack before the rest were done. He probably jsut formed a hipster emo band and found more sucess using his magic for that instead and just forgot about the whole thing. Could be wrong but that’s what i’m going with. So Scott asks Ramona to go out with him then make out with him, both of which she says yes to. Nice one scotty boy. Ramona then explains the whole evil exes thing: He’ll have to defeat each one as they come after him, and while Scott wonders if they’ll come one at a time Ramona’s not sure. As time will bear out, Scott is MOSTLY correct as most exes take him one on one, with the exception of the twins. But since as I said earlier the twins are basically one person, and as we’ll find out by choice, so it’s an exception. Plus their the last step before the final boss, so by that token it’s a bit fairer to have the penultimate boss get an unfair advantage. Scott is fine with that, he and Ramona share another moment and a kiss.. but Scott makes the mistake of asking if gideon is one and Ramona’s head starts glowing with her dodging the subject, though still going out with SCott and him worried.. it just feels.. off. not a bad ending but the only one of the series three cliffhanger endings that just dosen’t work for me, especailly since it is a bit before the Gideon mystery really picks up steam again. But with that we close this chapter
FINAL THOUGHTS:
Precious Little Life is a decent start to the story. While Scott is loathsome at first, he’s still a compelling character and does get more likeable as things go, the humor when it is there shines and is one of the series best assets and while the fight is short and only at the end, it is oh so glorious especailly in cover with the impacts taking cues from the movie. It’s a good intro to Scott’s world and ther’es a reason the movie adapts this book the closest as it sets up the cast and premise well, with only Stephen Stiles feeling a bit off and ONLY for the first few chapters. The volume is only really held back by it’s pacing, as before Scott runs into ramona in his dream the story feels a bit sluggish as we’re just watching some douche date a high school kid. While it is necessary to set up the world, it just dosen’t have the snappy pacing the series would be known for and that makes the rest of the series more charming. it’s nto BAD.. but it’s not FANTASTIC like the series would become. What keeps it from being bad is simple: These aren’t general badness signs but more just O’Malley coming into his owna nd getitng better and better as the book goes, to the point that by the next book the pacing is much better and by book 3 onwards he has it down pat. Overall not a BAD volume but certaionly the weakest of the bunch.. which given it’s still really good says something about the ride we’re in for. I’ll be back sometime in the future, likely january. Yup i’m taking on YET ANOTHER PROJECT. but since this one, while clearly exausting and time consuimg, is much shorter in overall length, and i’m still proritizing the three I have running over this, I think i’ll be just fine. Until next time, have a happy holiday.
#scott pilgrim#scott pilgrims precious little life#ramona flowers#wallace wells#kim pine#stephen styles#knives chau#neil nordgraf#julie powers#matthew pattel#gideon#crash and the boys#reviews#comics#oni press#micheal comereau#stacey pilgrim
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baby I’ll come back to you: coming soon
Well folks, since my current wip, where the wild things are, is winding down (there’s only one chapter left WHAT) and I’m taking off March/ early April from posting anything to focus on finishing up my remix fic(s) on time, I wanted to share a sneak peek of my next wip (mostly just so I could show off @dragonanddirewolf‘s BEAUTIFUL beautiful art.) So here it is: the long-awaited Jonas Brothers au (sorta), which I hope to start posting in late April. I am really excited to start working on this fic, and even more excited to share it with everyone! Hopefully this little preview intrigues you and gets you as excited to read it as I am to write it! And tides you over while y’all wait for my next update, since I am incapable of really working on more than one project at a time. WHOOPS. Anyways, here it is, so enjoy!!
It feels like it’s been a bloody age since he’s actually seen both Robb and Theon in the same room.
He spots them the moment he steps into the coffee shop, even though they’re tucked away in a back corner, away from prying eyes. Jon keeps his head down as he maneuvers through the crowded café, sunglasses still on even inside, just in case people are looking his way. It’s an old habit he has yet to break— out of the three of them, he certainly gets recognized the least nowadays, which is probably why all the tabloids claim he’s fallen off the face of the planet. Theon’s been doing movies, Robb was in a new band and is married to probably the most famous woman in the world, and Jon— well. He’s been living, best he can. Getting better, all of that bullshit. But truly, he hasn’t done anything like his brothers have in the past five years, so people don’t recognize him as much. Enough to squint at him in an I-know-you’re-famous way, but not enough to rush him like they do Robb whenever he steps foot outside his house. He outgrew his nineteen-year-old baby face and started tying his hair back, and all of a sudden it’s like he’s wearing a mask.
Jon’s not sure how much longer that will last, though, because he has a feeling he knows why Robb’s asked them to meet him here today.
“Jon,” he hears that familiar voice call, and he nods towards the two men at the back table, head still down. The last thing they need is the paps recognizing them, starting to spread rumors about the three of them all together again.
“Hi,” Jon says, slipping into the booth, finally taking off his sunglasses. Light from outside streams in through the large windows, the busy sprawl of King’s Landing right before them. Theon slaps him on the arm in greeting; Robb smiles at him in that way he does now. That way that looks like everything’s fine, but where the light doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
Gods, he can’t remember the last time his brother actually looked truly happy to see him. Probably before their last tour.
He knows why, of course. Robb would never say it, but Jon knows that he blames him for the breakup. For everything.
“Bloody hells, Jon, it’s been an age,” Theon says, grinning at him. “Where’ve you been?”
“I’ve been here,” he responds, crossing his arms. “You’re the one who was off filming that movie for three months.”
“Aye, how did that go?” Robb asks, gaze turning to Theon, that guarded look disappearing. “I haven’t seen you since you got back. You missed Rose’s birthday party, you know.”
“I know,” Theon grumbles. “I’ll make it up to her, I promise. I have to maintain my favorite uncle status.”
They chat for a while— mundane things, catching up. Theon tells them about the movie he’d just wrapped on. Robb shows them both a million new photos of his children. Jon keeps quiet, just listening. It’s… nice, to be back with both of them, the warm sunlight spilling in through the window, making Robb’s eyes shine like they used to when he was younger. It makes him forget, for a moment. Wish for those days back, when the three of them would spend every moment of their time writing music, pouring their hearts and souls into their careers. It was something so fleeting and magical, he’s not really sure he’ll ever find anything like that again.
Jon realizes he’s lost track of the conversation when Theon clears his throat, looking at the two of them almost nervously, in a decidedly un-Theon-like way. “I’m glad we did this,�� he says to them, “because I wanted to tell you both.” He pauses, looking at Robb, as if trying to gauge his best friend’s reaction before he even says anything. “I’m going to ask Sansa to marry me.”
Robb’s eyes get comically wide, so much that Jon chuckles, ducking his head. But it only takes his brother a moment to recover, before he’s grinning widely, eyes sparkling in a way Jon hasn’t seen them in a long time.
Or maybe that’s just because Jon seldom sees Robb anymore.
“Wow,” Robb says, almost speechless. “That’s— that’s brilliant, Theon. Congratulations!”
“Well, I haven’t asked her yet,” Theon says, giving Robb a look. “Don’t go cursing me or something now. She’ll go on and say no.”
“You think she would?” Jon asks. Theon shrugs.
“I don’t really, but— hells, I don’t know.” He gives Robb a look. “How did you know it was right when you asked Margaery?”
Robb huffs in laughter. “Oh gods, don’t take advice from me on that,” he says, raising his hands in surrender.
“What do you mean?” Theon demands. “You’re the only one of us who’s bloody married!”
Jon looks down as the sudden feeling of coldness creeps in, like an icy dagger to the heart. Memories flash before his eyes, and he’s trapped back in the past, glimpses of hair like moonlight and teasing smiles dragging him down, drowning him.
He still has that diamond ring somewhere— buried in the back of a drawer, probably, where he won’t stumble upon it. Seeing it is too painful, but getting rid of it— well. That’s painful in an entirely different way.
“Aye, but Margaery made it easy for me,” Robb says. “She wrote a whole bloody album that basically told me she was waiting for me to ask her.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Y’know I still get asked if I married her with paper rings.”
At that, Jon snorts, a little of the darkness lifting. He’s seen his goodsister’s engagement ring, and it is certainly not made of paper.
Jon tunes out as Robb continues on, reassuring Theon. He doesn’t realize he’s being addressed until both men are staring at him expectantly.
“Sorry, what?” he says, and Robb rolls his eyes amiably.
“I asked, what have you been doing, Jon?” Theon repeats, and Jon shifts uncomfortably. Nothing, is really the most honest answer. Working out. Walking Ghost. Trying to keep his mind occupied and himself sober.
It’s probably sad, to look at his life now, compared to what it used to be. When he was nineteen years old he was touring the world, singing for millions of fans, writing songs every single minute of every single day. Music was most of his life. And now he’s just— trying to get by, he supposes. It’s sad, but it’s what he’s become accustomed to. Just… making it through the day, one day at a time.
“Er, not much,” he admits. “Not like you two, anyways.”
Robb glances up at him, that guarded look back in his eyes. “Arya told me you’ve been writing again,” he says, quietly. Jon curses mentally— he never should have told her that.
“Fuckin’ tattletale,” Jon grumbles. But he can tell from Robb’s expression he’s not going to drop it. “Aye, I have been,” he admits, heaving a sigh. “Not anythin’ good. Just… I dunno. I missed it, I guess.”
“I miss it too,” Theon says, a smile tugging at his lips. “Acting is fine, but music… it’s something different, isn’t it?”
“Aye, it is,” Robb agrees. “Margaery’s been workin’ on her next album, and it makes me think back to then. When we’d just crowd around the table in Mum and Dad’s living room, and Jon would come up with a lyric, and Theon would just hear how it should sound, and we’d write a song in an afternoon.” He sighs, a little wistfully, looking down. “Watching Margaery at the piano, it just…”
“Feels like a part of you is missing,” Theon supplies.
Jon doesn’t answer, but he knows what they mean. Maybe that’s why he began songwriting again. Not because he wants to have a music career anymore— just because it’s so ingrained in him, he doesn't really know what to do with himself if he’s not making music. And if he’s being honest, writing down lyrics, coming up with a melody on the guitar or the piano that mainly just collects dust in his living room… there’s a comforting familiarity to it. Like maybe his sense of self hasn’t been completely destroyed. Maybe some of the old person he used to be is buried down deep.
“Do you ever think about it?” Theon asks, and Robb’s brow furrows. “Y’know. The possibility of… us. Getting back together.”
Robb exhales slowly. “More than I should,” he says. “I… it’s really hit me, in the past few years. How much I miss it. And doing things by myself, or with other people, it’s just not the same.”
“Aye,” Jon agrees, both Theon and Robb looking a little surprised at the fact that he’s participating in this conversation voluntarily. But he knows what Robb means. He did solo things after the breakup, just because he didn’t know how to do anything else. And it had been a lackluster replacement, nothing like he’d felt for the almost seven years he and Robb and Theon were together.
“What about you, Jon?” Robb asks, and as casual as his brother may be trying to appear, Jon knows him better than that. He can hear the apprehension in his voice. And the hope.
Jon exhales, trying to sort out his words in his head before he says something he regrets. “I… do miss it,” he says. “And sometimes I think about it. Gettin’ back together. But I always…” He hesitates. “Would it even be the same? Can we have that again, truly? Or was it just some miracle we stumbled upon we can’t get back?”
“I wonder that too,” Theon admits. “If we got back together— would anyone even care? Would anyone want to listen to our music in the first place?”
“I know what you mean,” Robb says, and his blue eyes flash with determination, desperation. Like he’s clinging onto this with all his might. “But I miss making music with you two. And I think if we truly did this, we couldn’t worry about the fans, or the people. We’d have to do it just for us.”
Just for us, Jon thinks, trying not to roll his eyes. That’s a novel thought in Hollywood. All he seemed to do when they were a band was give and give and give himself away. Nothing here was ever just for him.
Well… there was her. But now that’s gone as well.
“I would do it,” Theon says, with a conviction that surprises Jon. “It would be hard, and who bloody knows what would even come of it, but I would. If this is you asking, Robb, then I say yes.”
Robb blinks, a little taken aback, but then Theon’s words really seem to hit him, and he smiles. A laugh falls from his lips, eyes shining in a way that Jon rarely sees anymore.
“What about you, Jon?” Theon asks, and that’s when Robb’s eyes dim.
Jon sighs. “I dunno,” he says. “That’s… a big decision. I’d like to just say yes, but…”
“I know,” Robb says. “And I don’t want you to say yes unless you really mean it, Jon. If you just… do this for us, nothing will end well.”
His eyes drop down to the coffee table, heart heavy. Yes, he knows that’s true. Because isn’t that how it all blew up the first time? Jon couldn’t do it anymore, and instead of telling anyone, he soldiered on for Robb and Theon. For his brothers. And it all ended in fucking disaster.
“I’ll think about it,” he promises, and the sincerity in his voice takes him by surprise as much as it does Robb and Theon. “Truly, I will.”
Maybe it’s not a bad idea. He loved making music with Robb and Theon. It was his entire life for so long— some crazy dream they somehow made come true. The most surreal, incredible thing in the world, right there before them. And he does miss it. He misses having a purpose, an outlet, an… anything. He misses the time when his life wasn’t an endless void, a monotonous parade of going through the motions day-to-day, trying to learn to move on from something he never really thinks he’ll be over.
Robb’s smile is warm when it meets his, and Theon claps him on the shoulder, looking uncharacteristically hopeful. And for a moment, Jon’s heart feels light, not like it’s made of iron, still heavy in his chest after nearly seven years.
But then Robb’s expression shifts, and his stomach sinks once again.
“There’s somethin’ else,” his brother admits. “Sansa just told me. And I figured you’d rather hear it from us, than see it plastered across all the tabloids in King’s Landing.”
“What is it?” Jon asks, dread filling his stomach. He just knows, somehow, that this is it. This fragile peace he’s tried to build these past years is about to shatter, the rug pulled out from under him.
Robb exhales, like he has to physically force the words out, and Jon prepares himself for the fallout.
“Dany’s back in town.”
And with that, the world stops spinning.
#jonas brothers au#my writing#jonerys#jonerys modern au#jonerys fanfiction#baby i’ll come back to you#im so excited for this one guys#AND THE ART!!!#I CANT!!!!#martha did such a good job#really im posting this because I was too impatient to wait#to share her gorgeous gorgeous artwork with yall#HOPE YOU ENJOYED#coming soon to an ao3 near you
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Elastic Heart Chapter Two
Title: Elastic Heart - Winchester
Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFCs
Pairing(s): Past Sam x Reader
Summary: Y/N worries about the past catching up with her.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: some cursing, fluff, small doses of angst
Notes: Series will be mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. Also, for purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.
Please give a comment or reblog and let me know what you think!
Elastic Heart Masterlist
Read Chapter One
Chapter Two - Winchester
Present
“We are so proud of you, Y/N” mom smiles, pulling me into a hug.
“We all are.” I turn to face dad. “Me, your mother, and sister. Isn’t that right, Delia?”
My 10-year-old sister is standing in front of him, looking more like me than I would care to admit. She beams up at me, jumping into my arms, “I screamed for you when they called your name, Y/N! Did you hear me?”
“Of course I did, Cordy!” I squeeze her tightly, using my nickname for her.
“I miss you, Y/N, it’s not the same when you’re not home, mom and dad…” she leans in to whisper in my ear, “they’re already talking about me going to college.”
I knew that it was something that they would want for her, but I hate that they are already starting to bring it up. They had pushed me into making those same decisions before I was ready, and it put me on a collision course that I might never have been on if they allowed me to be a regular teenager for a few more years.
“She’s a little young for college talk, don’t you think?”
“Y/N, you should know, it’s never too early,” mom defends. “We started looking at programs when you were about her age.”
“Had your entire future planned out,” dad interjects, “and look where you are now! Even with your setbacks .”
“I was about to start high school,” I say, trying to keep myself calm. I take a deep breath, putting Cordy down, “she needs time to be a kid… to have a little fun.”
“As I recall, Y/N,” dad’s mood changes quickly, “you had plenty of fun, so much fun, in fact, that it almost ruined everything we had worked for.”
“I was seventeen, not ten,” I assert, stepping closer to him, “and my ‘fun’ didn’t almost ruin anything. If you think Cordy will be in a similar situation anytime soon, then we’ve all got much bigger problems.” I take another deep breath, “maybe it’s time to tell her about my setback , and she will learn from my mistakes.”
“This is not the place, Y/N,” mom puts herself between us. “Your father and I just want what’s best for Cordelia; you know that. We can talk about that later,” she looks down at Cordy, who is watching all of us intently, “but not now. Let us take you out for dinner, please.”
I nodded reluctantly. Mom’s right; this isn’t the time or the place.
“Later?” I look between them.
“Later.”
“What about me?” Cordy chirps, looking up to me. “Don’t I get a say?”
“I got you, kid.” I wink and squeeze her hand. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Joe’s!” she yells, and I laugh, it has been years since I’d been to Joe’s. For the past two years, I practically never left campus, only visiting home during the breaks for a few days at a time, and even then, I spent most of my time studying. It was easier to stay focused on class, keep my priorities straight , as dad would say.
“Delia,” dad rejoins as we walk toward the parking lot, “let Y/N choose, this is her night. As a matter of fact, we were thinking about going to that new restaurant downtown. What do you say, Y/N?”
“I say… Joe’s!” Cordy squeals with delight. “How about Cordy and I take my car, and we’ll meet you guys there? I can take her to my apartment, I’ll change out of these robes, and we can meet there in about an hour?”
“Do you really think that’s the best idea?” Dad says, shooting a side glance to mom then back to me. “Being alone?”
“Yeah, I think I can handle a ten-year-old for an hour,” I laugh.
“Ten and a half!” she corrects.
“Excuse me, ten and a half,” I bring my attention back to my parents, “and if I remember correctly, I used to be the only person in the house who could calm her down when she had her infamous temper tantrums.”
“I didn’t have tantrums!” Cordy pouts, walking in front of me, “I was a good baby!”
“Hate to break it to you, kid. But you had the worst fits. You grew out of them, eventually,” I give her a playful wink. “Anyway, Cordy has been asking to see my apartment basically since I moved in, and this is my last chance to show her before I have to move off-campus.”
Dad nods, and he and mom walk toward their car. Cordy and I head across campus to my apartment. Her sparkling eyes fill with curiosity and wonder as I explain the statues and buildings, even pointing out one of the many stray cats that I see every day.
It only takes about fifteen minutes to walk to my apartment. It’s nothing fancy, just a small one-bedroom, but Cordy takes her time, studying the place. She seems fascinated by the pictures on the walls, framed photos of her and me, mom and dad, the handful of friends I have, and some art.
“Are you moving back home?” Cordy asks excitedly. “It’s been so long, not since I was little!”
“You’re still little, kid,” I laugh.
“Really little! I never get to see you anymore Ellie,” she follows me into my room.
“That’s because I was working really hard at school, but now, I’ll make sure that I see you more often, even if I don’t move back home.”
“Promise?” Cordy holds her pinky out in front of me, and I grab it with my own.
“Promise.”
She smiles widely. I notice a tooth missing and laugh to myself. I watch as she grabs one of the pictures off of my nightstand and sits down on my bed. It’s one of my favorite images of just the two of us. It was her first birthday; Cordy had just slammed her face into the cake, and I was laughing wildly.
“Why aren’t mom or dad in this one?” she asks, gesturing towards the picture.
“Oh…” I took the frame out of her hands, studying it, “You were so cute back then,” I tease. “You were so cranky that day, we’d given you all these presents, but nothing worked. Then, we put the cake in front of you, and you lit up. Mom and I were trying to help you blow out the candle, and you just threw your face into the cake. You covered your whole face, then tried to get me too. Mom was laughing so hard she had to step away. We didn’t even know that dad had taken the picture until later.”
“Who’s that?” she points at a figure in the background, I freeze for a moment, never realizing that he was in this photo. He’s slightly out of focus, but he still looks how I remember him. “He was in another picture, but when I asked mom about him, she wouldn’t say anything.”
“Oh, him?” I feign ignorance, knowing precisely who he is. “He’s some relative on dad’s side of the family, a twice-removed something or other; mom wasn’t exactly a fan of him.” I force a laugh. I know I can’t be completely honest with her about the man in the photo, but I won’t lie to her either. “He used to visit us a couple of times a year, whenever he was in town. He was crazy about you, and you were obsessed with him. Dad hated it so much,” I laugh, thinking back to all the times we had seen him. “Dad thought he was getting replaced as your favorite person.”
“Why don’t I remember him?” she asks quietly.
“I think the last time we saw him you were only two, I remember he told dad he wanted to help pay for my college and even start a college fund for you, it caused a big fight. You were a little too small to remember him.”
“What happened to him?” she looks up at me.
“I don’t know, kid. We didn’t hear from him again after that last visit. I think he got in some trouble with the law or something. We tried tracking him down, but nothing ever came of it.”
She looks disappointed in my answer.
“I’ll tell you what, in a couple of years, if you want, we’ll see if we can’t track him down. And I bet that we can find another, clearer picture of him somewhere,” I half-lie again, knowing exactly where to find a picture of him, “Whaddya say, kid?”
“Okay.” Cordy takes the photo out of my hand, and I can see she still has questions. I’m always afraid of this happening, and I’m not ready to conquer it today.
“You know why I picked that one out of the hundreds dad took that day?” She shakes her head. “That’s just you and me, kid. There aren’t that many of only the two of us.”
She frowns and looks back down at the picture again. “What about before this one?” she asks, and I’m stunned by her question.
“Huh? What do you mean?” I’m afraid I know what she means, but I promised I wouldn’t lead her down that path until we decided it was the right time.
“We did a family tree this year. They wanted pictures from when we were babies, and when I asked mom for pictures, she gave me a bunch like these. I told her my teacher wanted ones from when I was younger, but mom said she didn’t know where they were. All my friends have pictures with their mommy’s still in the hospital. But I don’t.”
“They’re around the house,” I stretch the truth again. “We weren’t expecting you, and you took us so off-guard, our little surprise baby. It took mom and dad so long to get used to the fact they were gonna have a baby in the house again. I was gonna move out, but after you were born, I just wanted to be around you all the time. And we were all so frazzled the first few months after you were born, I don’t think they even thought about picking up a camera half the time. But after your first birthday, dad couldn’t put one down.” I walked to my closet to get a change of clothes. “There are hundreds of them.”
“Really?” she looks up at me, a smile growing. “What about you?”
“Well, good cameras were still pretty expensive when I was born, plus, you had to buy film, then get it developed, and sometimes the pictures would turn out to not even be good, or out of focus or something. Or you would have to go to a photo studio and have them professionally done, which was also expensive.”
“So, they didn’t take any pictures of you when you were a baby?”
“They did, I’m sure they’re also hiding around the house somewhere, there’s probably more than they have of you,” I tease her. “I was the firstborn, after all. I think they have more videos of you, though. How about this weekend we look for them together?” she perks up at the thought, I make a mental note to let mom know what we will be looking for. “What do you think?” I asked, stepping out in a dress, and she scrunches her face. “Too formal for Joe’s?”
She nods, laughing. I head back to my closet and pick a simple shirt and jeans to wear.
“Y/N, why are they so mean to you?” Cordy’s tone changes when I walk out. “Mom and dad, they act like you were a bad kid.”
“Cordy,” I gather my thoughts and choose my words carefully. “Mom and dad had only me for seventeen years before you came along. They want what’s best for me, and that means that sometimes they have to push me. It comes from a place of love, know that.” I sit next to her offering a smile. “It’s been like that since before you were born, they were always stricter with me than they’ve been with you. I may be a ‘grown-up’, but to them, I’m still their little girl, same goes for you, kid.” I pull her into a hug. “Now, can we go to Joe’s? I’m starving!”
I grab my keys and cell phone, messaging mom on our way to my car.
Me >> We’re leaving my apt. we should be @ Joes in 30 mins or so
Mom << Okay =)
Me >> One other thing… Cordy’s starting to ask questions.
Mom << About what?
Me >> Everything. I think it’s time we told her.
Mom << We’ll discuss it later. See you soon.
I put my phone in the cup holder, frustrated by being shut down already. I know what they will say, she’s too young, she won’t understand , and a part of me knows they’re right. I know they only want what’s best, and I do too, but this is one of those days where it almost seems like it’s too much.
“It’s not fair! I should have a phone too! Dad says I’m too young!” Cordy gripes, pulling me out of my thoughts, “I don’t need a fancy one—"
“Dad’s right, you are too young.” I laugh as she settles into her seat. “What do you need a phone for?”
“So my friends can call me,” she argues. “I hate that they have to call the house, dad won’t even let me get a phone for my room.”
“I definitely gotta agree with dad on that one.”
“Y/N! You’re supposed to be on my side, that’s what you said earlier! Big sisters are supposed to be on the little sister’s side!” She pouts in her seat and I have to suppress my laughter.
“C’mon Cordy, give me one good reason, and I’ll be on your side.” I wait as she struggles to come up with a reason. “You gotta boyfriend?” I drag the word out, making her blush and shake her head. “You don’t need a phone yet. Can I trust you to pick out some music for us?”
She laughs and searches through the player, finally picking a song.
I’ve never seen a diamond in the flesh I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies And I’m not proud of my address, in the torn-up town No post code envy
“And we’ll never be Royals!” I chime in, looking at her with a wide smile.
“It don’t run in our blood!” she joins me, laughing.
We spend the better part of the 30-minute trip to Joe's singing very loudly and badly to songs from my playlists.
We pull into the parking lot, laughing as another song finishes playing.
I spot my parents’ car and pull in next to them. I can see that they are arguing. Mom’s cheeks and eyes teary, and dad, he just looks angry. A kind of angry that I hadn’t seen in a long time. Mom sees Cordy and me and quickly changes her expression. Dad does as well, softening his features.
“Y/N, what took you so long?” She says, as we both leave our cars, trying to hide the fact that something is wrong.
“I said 30 minutes, right?” I look at her with confusion, “I mean, maybe it’s been a little longer than that, but not much.” I offer.
“We just thought… Maybe you changed your mind about coming here?” Dad looked at me, still clearly angry about something.
“No, why would I do that? Cordy? Is there any other burger place better than Joe’s?” I laugh, trying to break the tension, which I could do better if I knew why they were so anxious.
“Heck, no!” she yells, “Joe’s is the best!”
“What your dad is trying to say, Y/N, is that we can go somewhere else.”
“Nah, Cordy’s right, and it’s been too long since I’ve been here. I wonder if there’ll be anyone here that I’ll recognize,” I question out loud, “Dan, Jana… some of the other staff?”
“Come on Y/N! I’m starving!” Cordy grabs my hand and starts dragging me towards the entrance.
“Cordelia! Slow down!” Dad says harshly, “The food will still be there.”
“Yeah, but the faster we get there, the faster I can eat!”
I laugh at her as she pulls me inside. The place still looks the same, mostly; there are new flat screens on the walls, a fresh coat of paint, and updated furniture, but it’s still Joe’s.
“No fucking way,” a voice yells from behind the register. Mom quickly covers Cordy’s ears, who begins to laugh hysterically. “Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?”
I finally see who is calling me, “Jana? Oh, my God! It’s been so long!”
She pulls me for a hug. “What’s it been, 5, 6 years?”
Dad places our orders as mom takes Cordy to a booth by the window. Jana looks the same, only slightly more worn than when I had last seen her.
“Before I was in school full time, something like that, yeah,” I smile. “Just graduated, actually.”
“Wow! Y/N! That’s awesome. I’m so happy for you,” she offers a sad smile, “I know it didn’t look like it was gonna happen there for a while, but I’m glad you got what you wanted,” she says quietly.
“Thank you. It’s been tough, but it’ll be worth it. What about you?” I ask as she pulls away. “How have you been?” She pulls her left hand in front of her face, showing off the diamond ring on her finger. “Oh my God, congratulations! Who’s the lucky guy?”
She tells me all about her fiancé, a local boy who started working at Joe’s shortly after I stopped.
“And Y/N you’ll never guess who was in here the other day.”
“Who?” I ask, looking at her curiously. But before she has time to answer, a familiar voice fills the air.
Winchester.
My eyes go wide, and I start to pant. I step away from Jana, making my way towards the bathroom where I am unable to stop myself from vomiting. I’m panicking, I never expected to see him again. He had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me. I do my best to compose myself, splashing water on my face. Why was he here after all these years? Once the color returns to my face, I return to the dining room, taking my seat next to Cordy, who has already made herself comfortable at the booth, coloring, not paying attention to anything. Mom gives me a look; we tried to warn you . I try to control my breathing as Jana delivers our food.
“So, who do we have here?” she says looking between Cordy and me.
“This is my sister, Cordy.” I laugh as she barely looks up from her page. “Cordy, this is Jana.”
“Of course!” Jana exclaims, “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner! She’s practically your twin! Except for her eyes.”
“Yeah,” I say nervously. “We get that a lot, I think it’s just cause of the age gap.”
“Odd,” she looked us all in the eye, “you all have dark eyes.”
“Um, yeah—well, if—both parents have the recessive trait, there’s a 1 in 4 chance of the child having it,” I spouted, hoping she would buy the not-technically a lie.
“I guess I should have paid more attention in Biology,” she laughs “anything else I can get for y’all?”
“No, thank you, Jana,” dad answers, looking relieved.
I stare down at my plate, appetite gone. I watch as Cordy scarfs her burger down and then tells an outlandish story that she insists is true. “It’s a monster! It sneaks into the rooms of kids, sucks out their souls and then they die!” she says seriously. “Three kids from my school are in the hospital!”
“So, a monster is making the kids at your school sick?” Dad raises an eyebrow. “Delia, you know there’s no such thing as monsters.”
“It’s true!” she says loudly. “It’s a soul-eater!” Cordy pouts, upset that no one believes her.
“She’s got a point.” A familiar pair of green eyes walks towards our table, trying to appease the upset child. “It’s not actually eating their souls. But the good thing is there are people like me and my brother—Y/N?”
“Dean.” I wanted to die. It had been years since I had seen him, either of them. I stand up from the table, giving him an awkward hug. “You’re here on business?” I ask, desperately trying to keep my cool.
“Yeah, S-Sam and I got into town a few days ago. Wow, Y/N, we didn’t think we’d ever see you again, it’s good to see you.” He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Sam?” he shouts. I don’t know if I can do this. “Sammy…c’ mere!”
I hear grumbling from a few feet away.
“Sam!” he yells. I’m gonna die of embarrassment . Cordy, none the wiser, laughs at the green-eyed man hollering. He looks down at her, “Hey princess, what’s your name?” he squats down to meet her eye level.
“Delia, that’s what everyone calls me, except Y/N, she calls me Cordy.” Her large expressive eyes look up at him.
“Well, can I call you Cordy as well?” Dean asks, and she nods. “Well Cordy, my name is Dean, and I know Y/N from a long time ago.” He leans in and lowers his voice, “Me and my brother, we take care of monsters. So I don’t want you to worry about that anymore, okay?” She happily nods as he turns away. “ SAM !”
“Dude, I was on the phone with the hosp—” Sam stops dead in his tracks 3 feet from our table. “Y/N/N,” he gasps.
“Hey, Sam,” I somehow muster, “been a long time.”
“Y-yeah,” I can see the wheels turning in his head, “about 10 y-years?”
I turn to my parents, whose faces are showing an array of emotions. Some that don’t even make sense to me.
“About.” I glance down at Cordy, blissfully unaware of what was happening around her, and back up to him. “Right after graduation,” I mutter.
Somehow, he’s taller than I remember. I rarely thought about him, mostly because of the pain and anger it would bring.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He drags his hand through his hair. “I- I can’t believe you still live here. I thought for sure you were leaving.” There’s a bitterness in his tone that I can tell he’s trying to cover-up. “You’d always said…”
“I’m just visiting. We’re just here celebrating. Cordy insisted.”
“Cordy?” He notices the little girl at the table. “Who—?”
“Cordy,” I say, grabbing her attention. “I want you to meet someone.” My eyes fall onto my parents’ faces, which now have nothing but sheer panic written all over them. Cordy places her crayons down and gives a dramatic sigh. I move to the side, allowing her to stand in front of me but facing the brothers.
“Cordy, this is Sam, this is Dean’s brother, he helps him hunt monsters.” I look at Sam, who seems confused. “Sam, this is Cordelia.”
“Y/N!” she whines playfully, “don’t tell him my whole name! I don’t tell people your whole name!”
“I know how you feel.” He crouches down to meet her. “I don’t like when people use my whole name either. If you want, you can call me Sammy.”
“ Wow ,” Dean whispers from behind him. He always hated being called Sammy by anyone other than Dean. “ That is an honor, Cordy.”
“Your eyes look like mine,” she giggles. “Even the green specks!”
I watch as a variety of emotions play on Sam’s face.
“Y-yeah,” his smile fades, and his eyes fill with confusion and panic, “they’re the same.”
Next Chapter
#sam x reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fanfiction#supernatural#supernatural fic#spn family
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Inspired by @thunderpot‘s BEAUTIFUL art...I’m working on a birthday present for her. I have an outline. I’m 50 pages in. I’m powering through this like no other and it’s been a BLAST.
I can’t keep calling it Atlantis though, or else the name is going to stick...So...I need help.
Kagome and Sango are scientists and treasure hunters, looking for a new clean energy source. Kagome’s hair-brained idea? Let’s find Atlantis! Little does she know the world she’s about to fall into... (horrible summary but I’ll deal with that later)
Unedited excerpt below!!
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Kagome paused, adjusting the strap on her purse as she looked up from the trashcan. It was a lovely day - the salty ocean air filled her nostrils and the warm sun caressed her tanned skin of her exposed back. A gentle breeze ruffled her midnight tresses, and she nervously tucked a strand behind her ear. His accent was thick and indiscernible. Not quite Greecian...but...something more. Mysterious.
“Excuse you?” she replied, confused by the man before her. Long, thick, inky hair…deep, cerulean eyes with just a fleck of gold in the left iris. His body was lean - his muscles ropey, as if he were an experienced swimmer.
Made sense given that this was an island over a hundred miles away from Santorini. Nothing but vivid blue seas for miles.
She had been getting lunch with her fellow colleague, researcher, and best friend, Sango, when this man just…Came up to her out of nowhere!
“That dive you’re planning to do with your friend,” he continued, his eyes serious. “You shouldn’t do it.”
“Were you listening in on us?” she replied, incredulously as she took a step back, away from him.
“Kinda hard to not,” he shrugged dismissively. “You’re rather loud.”
“Excuse you?” she repeated, trying to not let him grate her nerves. She didn’t know who the hell he thought he was, but he had no right telling her what she could or couldn’t do. And, on top of that…how fucking rude is it to…to…eavesdrop on a random stranger’s conversation and then snidely comment on how loud they are!
“You won’t find it,” he continued, unperturbed. “You think you’re the first ones to come here looking for Atlantis? Hardly,” he scoffed. “You should just go home.”
“Yeah?” she bit back, now more than a little annoyed with this rude stranger. “And what makes you so sure we won’t?”
He just smirked and turned away from her.
“Just am. Go home while you still can, Kagome.”
“That sounds like a threat,” she yelled after him as he started walking away.
He paused, looking over his shoulder back at her.
“Not a threat. A warning. Take your friend and go home.”
***
“Take your friend and go home,” Kagome mumbled under her breath, slipping a tank top over her head as she thought back to earlier that day.
“Still upset, huh?” Sango commented, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“You weren’t there Sagno,” Kagome bit back as her friend squeezed a dab of toothpaste out onto the dry bristles of her frayed toothbrush. “He was so...cocky...and... condescending! And! And! He was listening long enough to know not only my name, but also the fact that we’re looking for Atlantis!”
Sango just rolled her eyes, allowing her friend to rant about this mystery man as she brushed her upper teeth, watching Kagome’s arms wave around animatedly as she retold the story. Again. For the tenth time.
Kagome watched her friend pull her hair around to the side of her neck, leaning over the sink to spit the white foam of her toothpaste into it. “You’re obsessing,” Sango finally replied, pointing her toothbrush at her friend. “Men have, and always will, be condescending to us. We’re treasure hunters, Kagome. Not teachers. This is a male dominated field. They are always going to look down on us. Why do you suddenly care what this one random guy thinks?”
“I don’t care what he thinks!” She shot back, pulling her hair into a bun at the top of her head. I’m just...pissed at him! He doesn’t know us and he’s just...just assuming that we can’t do it? Who the hell does he think he is!”
“No one,” Sango sighed. “He’s a no one you are spending way too much time and energy on. Forget him,” she encouraged, beginning to brush her teeth until a thought struck her. “Do you like him?” she gasped, her words coming out garbled as she spoke around the toothbrush hanging limply from her mouth.
“O-of course not!” Kagome sputtered, brushing off her friend. “He was rude, and condescending and--”
“--And attractive and you haven’t stopped talking about him like...once since you got back. I think you have a thing for assholes,” Sango smirked and Kagome reached out, grabbing a damp towel off the rack and threw it at the other woman. Sango just laughed and caught it, chasing after Kagome as she stomped out of the cramped bathroom into their small room, turning on the fan. Even at night, the humid air clung to them like a sticky sap.
“I do not have a thing for assholes!”
“Yeah? Then what word would you use to describe Hojo?”
Kagome was silent for a beat before snapping back, “cheater. I would describe him as a cheater.”
“So...Asshole?”
Kagome just glared back at her friend, her ire raising with each passing second.
“Listen, Kags...Don’t let this guy get in your head. You’re a smart, strong, determined woman. We’ve ignored nay sayers all our lives. Why stop now?”
“I know,” she sighed, thinking back to the serious look in the mystery man’s hauntingly blue eyes...All blue, except for that one, beautiful fleck of gold. She wondered why he had it...Genetics?
Sango was right.
She was spending far too much time focusing on this guy when she should be getting sleep.
***
“Fuck!” Kagome swore, sitting back down on the bench in the small boat they had rented, next to Sango, peeling out of her wetsuit. The sun had almost set, the last warm rays of light nearly hidden beyond the horizon. “I thought we would find more out there than that…”
Sango handed her friend a towel, raking her fingers through her hair to work out the knots in her long black tresses.
“Bad dive again ladies?” their skipper, Miroku, asked in his thick Grecian accent. They would have preferred to have done this without him, but unfortunately...he came with the boat.
“Yeah. I’m disappointed too,” Sango bemoaned, nodding as Kagome stood, running the terrycloth towel over her wet body. Her skin puckered, turning into gooseflesh as a breeze swept over the ocean water, caressing her body.
“I’m not giving up hope yet. Everything we have researched so far has told us that the gate should be here.”
“I know,” Sango sighed. “Hey...did...did that place kinda give you chills?”
“Chills?” Kagome pressed, raising her leg onto the bench to dry it.
“Yeah...I don’t know Kags...I just...I felt watched down there. I know it’s crazy, but I swear I felt like something was watching our every move. Maybe we should...just...move on to the next site. The place is so creepy anyways…”
Kagome just rolled her eyes. That place? Creepy? And what would be watching them? Fish? She loved her friend dearly, but Sango was overreacting. It was a little unsettling looking around ruins, sure…but she didn’t think for one second that it was creepy. Besides...They had planned to spend two more days exploring the area before moving onto the next spot.
“Nonsense,” she soothed, tossing the towel back to her friend. “It’s nothing we haven’t seen a hundred times before. Our permit is good for a few more days...I think we should stick with the plan. Head back first thing in the morning. Maybe breathing in all that air from the tanks got to you? I feel it in my bones, Sango. This is the place. I just know it!”
Sango shot her an uncertain look, but just shook her head as Miroku moved inside the cabin, reappearing a second later with a bottle of champagne and three flutes.
“Enough of this! You are starting your adventure!” he grinned. “Why don’t we pop some champagne in celebration? What do you say ladies? It’s a perfect night to drink a little bubbly at sunset! We can all get to know each other better, since we will be spending quite a bit of time together,” he finished cheekily.
Sango just narrowed her eyes at the man, and told him they were not interested in drinking at the moment. Instead, she sent him to turn on the ignition and begin the trip home. She hoped they could make it back before the sky completely blackened.
“Hey,” Kagome soothed when they were alone again. “I promise...two more days. I’ll be with you the whole time. Everything will be fine. It always is, right?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, still unable to shake the eerie feeling that they were being watched.
Little did she know how right she was...nor did she notice the black haired head poking out of the waves, watching the unwelcome explorers pull away from the sight. Keen, blue eyes narrowed as they disappeared from sight, a single golden fleck glimmering in the last rays of light.
That’s it for now...Hopefully it’s enough to spark some ideas?!
It was supposed to be a one shot. Then I wanted to keep it under 60 pages. Then 100. Now I just want it to stay under 130 pages. I’m already 50 pages ( 17478 words) in...I should stop pretending I can keep things short.
ART:
https://thunderpot.tumblr.com/post/617420192100827136
https://thunderpot.tumblr.com/post/617850310848872448/idk-kags-i-felt-watched-down-there-maybe-we
PLZ HALP GUYS I SUCK SO HARD AT TITLESSSSSSSS AND YALL CAME UP WITH A WORTHY SACRIFICE LAST TIME WHICH IS DOPE AF!
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Dogcopter Appearance Masterlist
thank you to resources SU Wiki Dogcopter and Dogcopter/Gallery, and Steven Says wiki transcript searcher
This is just a list of Dogcopter appearances in SU, not analysis. One or two may surprise you!
Dogcopter episode appearances
Lars and the Cool Kids
Lion 2
Some people say ‘You can't teach an old dog new tricks’... Unless you're Dogcopter 3, in 3D! This February, the fur hits the fan!
Steven: Whoah, I can see why this is your favorite film franchise. Connie: That's right! In a world where humanity is pushed to the brink, it turns out that the one who is most human, is a dog! Copter. Steven: and did you see where that missile came out of? Connie: Heh, yeah. I just hope it stays faithful to the book.
Amethyst: Oh, that's easy! Who needs to go see movies when you’ve got magic?
Steven: I'm sorry! I ruined everything, didn't I? I don't know why you hang out with me. I mess stuff up all the time. Connie: I don't know why you hang out with me! I'm so much more less interesting than you! And obviously you have some sort of magical destiny. Why would you even care about something like Dogcopter? Steven: Why?! Because it's Dogcopter! He's a dog, and a helicopter, and a cop! He shoots missiles out of his butt, and he's gonna save the world! Dogcopter is very cool and important to me. Connie: Well, I'm no Dogcopter.
Keep Beach City Weird
Dogcopter 3 SUX April 23, 2014
I saw Dogcopter 3 in 3D tonight and all I have to say is WOOF!
First of all, it’s a huge mistake to turn the last Dogcopter book into THREE movies. Yes, the last book is over 900 pages, but there’s not enough story! And the 3D was completely unnecessary. If I wanted to see butt missiles flying at my face, I’d feed a dog some bottle rockets and put on a pair of safety goggles.
Dogcopter is supposed to be an uncompromising look at the military-industrial-pet complex, not “fun”! Fun is the worst.
Also, if you live in the Delmarva area - do not see it at the Beach City Cineplex. The parking lot is a mess! Probably from a bunch of angry Dogcopter fans rioting. Ugh, I’m going to see this 3 more times to make sure I hate it.
Tags: dogcopter 3 in 3D keep beach city weird kbcw
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Lion 3
Dogcopter: I win. Steven: Oh, what? That was a good move! Dogcopter: Thanks. Steven: Dogcopter. How do you do it? Dogcopter: How do I do what? Steven: I mean, what's your secret? How'd you get so talented? Dogcopter: Don't focus so much on talent, Steven. Making art is all about communication. A piece of art is a conversation. Every choice you make, is a statement.
Continued under cut
Dogcopter: Don't worry about labels, or conforming to a standard. Just be true to yourself, and people will appreciate your honesty. Steven: Woah. Thanks for the advice. Dogcopter: And take a deep breath. Steven: What?
suworkbook wrote a brilliant piece of meta around this dream
Steven: Here again? I don't know what this place is but it feels... familiar. Why can't I breathe? Wait a minute... Lion! Lion, my face is not your bed! What's going on with you?
Chille Tid
Steven: Whoa. Dogcopter! Mr. Copter! Sir! I'm one of your biggest fans, can I please have your autograph? Dogcopter: (meows) Steven: Mr. Copter, please! Steven: Hey wait! Where are you going?! Steven: I hope the rumors about Dogcopter in the tabloids aren't true. Steven: Huh? Oh! Hey, Pearl! Steven: Wait! Don't eat me! Steven: Oh, man! Thanks for the upgrade, Pearl! Now I can catch up with Dog— Steven: Woah, Amethyst? Steven: Hmm... This is... getting really weird. Lapis: This is weird. Steven: Hey, that sounds a lot like— Lapis: Steven! Steven: Lapis Lazuli! Lapis: Steven, what are you doing in here?
Keep Beach City Weird
KEEP BEACH CITY SPOILER FREE January 04 2016
Hey weirdos! For the past few months, I’ve done something unprecedented - I’ve stayed off the internet.
It was hard but I had to do because I’ve been trying to stay SPOILER FREE for the movie event of the new millennium! This December was the revival of one of the most famous sci-fi franchises in the world. Yep, you know what I’m talking about: DOGCOPTER.
So for three months, I sequestered myself from all internet communications. I handed over my laptop and my phone to my little bro, Peedee, and ordered him to bury them in an undisclosed location in the deserts of New Mexico.
I think he just put them in the walk-in freezer at the fry shop.
I won’t lie, it was hard. But I calmed my nerves by reacquainting myself with the “Young Adult Conspiracy” section at my local library. And instead of getting in arguments with internet trolls, I got in real life arguments! With my dad!
And after months of avoiding and spoilers or teasers or trailers, I was in line for Dogcopter 4, and then some dummy walking out of the theater TOTALLY SPOILED EVERYTHING and was like, “I can’t believe that Dogcopter’s parents are actually cats.”
Ug! I hope you’ve seen the movie because that’s pretty much the big ending. Dogcopter dies defending the planet but then he comes back to life because he’s actually part cat and cats have 9 lives. Anyway, the movie was pretty much ruined. So now I’m back. Spoilers are the worst.
Tags: Keep Beach City Weird Dogcopter
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Fun fact if you invert this poster and adjust the contrast a bit, some odd diagram in the back appears:
Steven’s Birthday
Amethyst: What are you doing? Steven: Well uh...What are YOU doing? Greg: What are YOU doing to your body? Amethyst: Woah, woah, woah, have you been stretching yourself out all day? Steven: No! I was just... slouching. Greg: Why are you doing this? It... really isn't like you. Steven: Because, Dad, I can't stay a kid forever, when Connie grows up and becomes president what is that gonna make me? First Boy!? Amethyst: Steven, you can't just keep stretching forever. If you hold it too long, you could really hurt yourself. Steven: Yeah well, I'm half human so maybe it works different for me, we'll just have to wait and see, right? Greg: Steven...
Connie: That one's... "Canis helicopterus". Steven: Uh-uh, "Helicopterus"? Connie: Yeah, Dogcopter, get it? Now you make one up! Steven: Okay, um, That one's, uh, snake constellation. Connie: That's... pretty good. Are you okay? It looks like you're gonna throw up. Steven: Oh yeah, everything's fine! Connie: Okay... that's good. You know, to be honest, I was a little worried before. This might sound silly, but I'm really glad that I'm going to get to grow up with you. Connie: ...Steven? Steven! What's going on? What happened? Connie: We were just talking then all of a sudden- Pearl: He turned back into a baby?! Connie: YES!
Keep Beach City Safe
DOGCOPTER 4: ALL DOGS GO TO WAR Jan 5 2016
Dogcopter 4 has finally been released! All Dogs Go to War!
I’ve been dying to see this movie for age, but I never had the time. I’ve been so busy with my blog and picking the perfect present for Steven. I’ve watched all the other Dogcopter Movies, but I haven’t had time to watch this one. But now I have a little free time to do something. After I watch it I won’t spoil it for the rest of you. I’m gonna be a Smart Spoiler and drop hints in my post for you guess. Only those who have watched it will notice the clues. Yep, watching it 9 times.
#Dogcopter 4 #Steven's Birthday Present #Dogcopter Movies #Smart Spoiler
Same Old World
Lapis: So, what does happen in Empire City? Steven: Well, let's see. If you lived here, you could get a cool apartment, and be a single Gem taking on the big city. You'll have a fun job at a local coffee shop and come home to a wacky roommate... Lapis: I have no idea what you're talking about. Steven: Awww.
Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service
Steven: I'll take care of this! Kiki: Steven, be careful! Steven: Don't worry about me! Anything is possible when you have... rockets for bones! Kiki: Steven, that was so brave! Steven: Well, it's cheddar than nothing.
Steven: Oh, hey, Dogcopter. Dogcopter: (meows) Steven: See ya, dream Kiki! Kiki: Oh, okay. See you, dream Steven! Steven: Dream Steven!
Little Homeschool
Steven: Sadie's been touring with The Suspects, promoting their new album, and Connie has been getting a head start on college prep. She's two years away from applying, but she says it doesn't hurt to start early. Steven: And speaking of higher education, Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl and I have been cooking up a dream of our own! Cherry Quartz: I have no idea who you're talking about.
Snow Day
Amethyst: Guess what we've got lined up tonight. "Pupcopter's Sky-High Adventure"! Pearl: Sheet masks with cute animal faces! Garnet: And, most importantly, pizza. Steven: Uh, guys, I've been a vegetarian for, like, a month, and "Pupcopter" is for 6-year-olds, and I have my own skin care routine. Anyways, it's cool. I already ate. Amethyst: Oh well. We'll just watch the movie with Cat Steven. Garnet: My bad. I was sure we were in the pepperoni timeline.
In Dreams
Dogcopter: (flies away) Stefan: Noooo!
Together Forever
Lion: (roars) Connie: Huh? Steven: Hey, Connie! How you doin'? Connie: Steven? What are you doing here? Steven: You're gonna have a fifteen-minute break in...two minutes, right? Connie: Whoa! Spot on. Steven: Connie, let's go for a walk. I'm sure you could use some fresh air. Connie: I would love to! But um... Steven: No, no, no! Don't worry! We'll go with Lion, and I promise you'll be back in fifteen minutes! Connie: Okay! Let's do this!
Growing Pains
Drew: I know you're eager to chase the mail truck, Dogcopter. But the mail truck is a decoy. Good boys chase the blue car. Be a good boy, Dogcopter. Drew: Nice work, DC! Now get the bomb off the bridge! We're almost out of time! Drew: Dogcopter! No! Drew: Dogcopter, I can't lose you. Drew: Is this... what I think it is?
Announcer: Dogcopter 6: Till Death Do We Bark: I Now Pronounce You Man And Woof! Steven: Everyone's getting married but me! Ugh! I feel like poop.
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Tree House Kisses, Chapter 30 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica
A/N: Click here for previous chapters. xoxo!
Chapter Summary: Courtney faces a nemesis and makes a big decision.
Chapter 30: Complicated
Courtney paced back and forth along the porch, wanting to make a run for it, but not wanting to chicken out. She shouldn't be so nervous, but she couldn't help thinking about the pressure of first impressions. Which in itself was an odd worry because she already knew Adore's friends, for the most part.
When she had told Adore that she wanted to hang out with her, she didn’t mean Adore and friends. She had no problem with any of them, but Violet still had some kind of animosity towards her and Courtney wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond to that kind of hostility, especially when she was in Violet's house. She was basically stepping into the den of the beast.
Fortunately, Pearl seemed to like her, and Courtney was sure that she and Willam were friends on some level. But she hadn't had much interaction with Trinity or Fame. From just having classes with both the girls, she knew that Fame could talk an ear off and Trinity seemed easygoing, if a little aloof. But they were two of Violet’s best friends, so Courtney needed to be prepared for anything.
-
“He is so cute, Adore!” Trinity squealed, petting the tiny gray kitten as he explored the shag carpeting in Violet’s basement.
“I know, right?! Bonnie finally came through with her promise to let me get another cat.” Adore grinned happily, eyes never leaving the little baby kitty, making sure her friends didn’t crowd him too much.
“Hey, didn’t you say cheerleader was supposed to be coming over?” Willam looked up from the little cat.
“Yeah, she is. I’m gonna text her; see where she is,” Adore said, grabbing her phone.
“I hope she got lost,” Violet said to no one in particular, earning a smack on the thigh from Fame. “Hey!”
“Be nice.”
“Thank you,” Adore nodded to Fame.
ADORE: Ur still coming, right?
COURTNEY: I’m here
“Oh, she's here.” Adore hopped off the couch, jostling Pearl awake.
“I still don't like the idea of her infiltrating my home with her heterosexual cooties!” Violet yelled after Adore, earning another smack on the thigh from Fame.
-
Adore swung Violet’s front door open to reveal Courtney. The blonde’s fingers twitched, nervously grabbing at the bottom of her skirt, a bright smile on her face.
“Hey, babe,” Adore smiled, grabbing Courtney’s arm and tugging her in the house.
“Hey, Dory,” Courtney wrapped her arms around Adore’s neck, pulling her into a tight hug before following her inside.
Violet’s house was nothing like Courtney’d imagined. She figured that it would be all stark white walls, abstract art and fancy, sharp-edged furniture. Instead, there were warm tones of terra-cotta and gold, walls and surfaces filled with family photos that she was dying to get a closer look at. She caught a glimpse of Young Violet out of the corner of her eye, cheeks covered with frosting from a birthday cake, and slowed down to get a better look before Adore tugged her forward.
As they descended the steps into Violet’s basement, Courtney could hear talking and laughing. Her stomach still churned nervously, the smell of weed and cinnamon candles hitting her. The basement, like the rest of Violet’s house, was oddly different from how Courtney imagined Violet lived, with furniture straight out of the 70s. An old bunny-eared TV was playing a Friends rerun, volume turned down low so everyone could still hear each other.
“Hey Courtney!” Pearl waved from her spot on the couch. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head, hazy blue eyes graced by her signature thick liner.
“Adore, I never told you that you could bring her. Courtney, get out of my house.” Violet raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.
Courtney stopped mid-step, eyes widening as she looked to Adore.
“She's messing with ya,” Adore shook her head, before pulling Courtney towards the couch. Pearl moved her feet to make room.
“No, I'm not. Ow!” Violet jumped as Fame pinched her thigh.
“Courtney, I love your outfit. You are always so cute,” Fame pushed Violet off her lap, hopping up to hug Courtney.
“Oh, thank you. You always look amazing too,” Courtney pulled back from the hug, gesturing to Fame’s checkered light pink and white dress, that stopped right above her knees, her blond hair pulled back into a braid, a little left out to frame her face.
“Hey, cheerleader,” Willam spoke from his place on the floor beside Trinity.
“Hey, you guys- oh my, whose kitty is this?!” Courtney cooed, flopping down on the floor next to the pair.
“Oh, I didn't tell you. I got her the other day,” Adore said, getting comfy on the couch, throwing her legs over Pearl's lap.
A look of hurt flashed across Courtney's face as she pet the grey kitten.
“How could you forget to tell me? Why didn't you invite me to go with you?”
“Uh…”
“Oh, here we go. Whiny best friend feeling left out. Adore-” Fame threw her hand over Violet's mouth, cutting her off.
“Hey, how about we go get some snacks?” She offered with a smile, then leaned close to Violet to add, “I know you survive off of babies’ tears and hate, but some of us-ow!”
Fame snatched her hand away when Violet bit down on her palm.
“Anyway,” Fame continued. “I'm pretty sure the rest of us are starving. Right?”
Fame looked around, trying to get the others to help her.
“I would kill for some Del Taco,” Pearl groaned from the sofa, emptying the cash from her pockets.
Trinity punched her leg in enthusiastic agreement. “Yes! Omigod, some hash brown sticks and a queso loaded nachos sounds amaaaazing,” she said.
“Perfect!” Fame chirped. “Violet and I will go grab food for everyone.”
Violet stood with a sour face, knowing what the others were doing, as Fame collected the money and orders from everyone.
“Court, you hungry?” Adore asked, noticing her friend sat there with a solemn look on her face, petting the kitten.
“Oh, that’s okay. I don't have any money on me,” Courtney shrugged.
“I'll pay. No biggie,” Adore shrugged digging in her pocket for a couple more crumbled dollars, telling Fame, “Get her two breakfast burritos and extra sauce.”
Courtney smiled up at Adore gratefully, happy that she knew her order without even asking. She decided to drop the whole ‘why did you get a cat without me’ line of questioning, instead saying, “Your kitten is precious. What’s her name?”
Adore flopped down beside her on the rug. “It’s Shane.”
When Fame and Violet left, the whole vibe of the room lightened up.
To Courtney’s delight, she found Trinity fun and likable, and soon found herself relaxing and just watching her and Willam banter back and forth. The way they sniped at each other reminded Courtney of siblings, and she leaned her head back on the sofa, amused by their antics.
By the time Violet and Fame made it back with the food, Courtney found herself totally comfortable with the group, she and Trinity getting Shane to chase a little piece of string while she told them all about cheer practice drama.
Violet lingered by the stairs while Fame flopped down on the ground with Courtney and Trinity. Her dark eyes narrowed, observing the way Pearl’s hand absentmindedly rested on Adore’s thigh while they dug into the food.
When Courtney rose to ask where the bathroom was, Violet smiled and generously offered to lead the way. Upstairs, she paced outside the bathroom door, waiting for the blonde to emerge, planning out exactly what she was gonna say as they headed back down to the group.
“You know…” Violet began quietly, as they made their way through the kitchen. “Pearl and Adore have been getting awfully close this summer…”
“Okay…” Courtney replied uncertainly.
“What do you think about that?” Violet asked.
“I think...I mean, great. That’s...good for them.”
“You sure about that? ‘Cause you don’t seem too excited to me. And it seems like, if you were a real friend, you’d be just thrilled for your bestie to snag someone as hot as Pearl Lent.”
“I...what are you talking about, Violet? Of course I would be happy for her, but she hasn’t told me anything about this, so I don’t know what you’re-”
“Well, of course not. Because you sabotage everything, so of course she’s not going to tell you.” Violet leaned against the doorway to the stairs, rolling her eyes.
“I don’t...what?” Courtney’s cheeks began to burn. “What are you talking about?”
“Why do you think she and Raja didn’t work out? It’s because she has her hands full dealing with a needy best friend who demands attention 24/7 and gets jealous every time she touches someone else!” Violet announced triumphantly.
“I do not get jealous-”
“You’re a liar! I’ve seen the way you looked at them, it drove you totally crazy! But guess what, princess? She doesn’t want you. So maybe you should focus on your boring asshole boyfriend and leave her alone.”
“Why are you such a bitch?” Courtney choked out.
“Because unlike you, I actually want my friends to be happy,” Violet said, flinging open the door and heading downstairs, leaving Courtney dumbfounded.
Courtney stood at the top of the stairs, heart pounding, skin flushed with anger. Was it true? Had she really fucked things up for Adore with Raja? There was of course, that one time she’d walked in on them in the costume room, but that was an accident. Adore knew that. And she never tried to stop Adore from spending time with Raja. Raja was just busy. But Courtney couldn’t deny that she wasn’t Raja’s biggest fan. There was something haughty and aloof about her that she just didn’t like. But so what? She didn’t have to like everyone! Pearl was totally different. Pearl was sweet and fun and if she and Adore got together, well, that would be just great. Fan-fucking-tastic.
As Courtney struggled not to cry, she realized that, more than anything else, she needed to get out of Violet’s house. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few moments, taking a deep breath, and then went downstairs to grab her purse, with the excuse that she was getting a migraine and needed to head home to lie down.
“Since when do you get migraines?” Adore asked, frowning.
“Um, I’ve gotten a few this summer. You know my mom gets them. I guess it’s genetic,” she laughed weakly.
“I’ll walk you out,” Adore said, starting to untangle herself from Pearl on the sofa.
“No!” Courtney exclaimed. “I mean...No, it’s fine. Don’t bother. I’m...I’m fine. Have a good time.” She bit her lip and turned, scrambling up the stairs.
Adore turned to Violet with narrowed eyes.
“Okay...what the fuck happened, Violet?”
“What do you mean?” Violet blinked innocently, reaching into the bag of Del Taco for her burrito.
“Confess, asshole!” Adore grabbed a handful of dark hair and yanked her back towards the sofa.
Violet let out a mischievous giggle.
“Alright, alright. I’m not sure why she took it so seriously. I was just ribbing her a little about how she’s so needy and demanding and how...you know, maybe that had something to do with why you and Raja broke up and that she should back off.”
“Violet!” Adore cried.
“What?!” Violet grinned, unwrapping her burrito.
“Dude,” Pearl said, shaking her head. “You’re a real douche sometimes, you know that?”
-
“...and what did I ever do to her?! She’s such a fucking bitch!” Courtney said, pacing back and forth in front of Roy’s bed.
“Yeah, its sounds like-”
“Not to mention, I mean, what was all that nonsense about Adore sleeping with Pearl? Why would I care about that? Like, she thinks I’m gonna try and prevent Adore from getting laid? Since when have I ever done that? And why would I?! I don’t care who Dory has sex with!”
“It kind of seems like you care,” Roy said quietly.
“No, I don’t! I just think Violet is a bitch! Why are you looking at me like that?!” Courtney demanded.
Roy sighed. “She’s always been a bitch, Court. Why did it get to you so much today?”
“Because!” Courtney exclaimed. “What if, what if Bob had a friend who hated you and talked shit about you? All the time?”
“I'd talk shit back. Besides, you have a friend who hates me and I deal with that, don't I?”
“Who?!” Courtney asked, hands on her hips.
“Uh, Adore?”
Courtney threw up her hands. “Adore doesn't hate you!”
“She does so!”
“Does not,” Courtney countered. “You just have like, a sibling bickering thing going on. She treats you like her brother. It’s actually kind of cute.”
“Well, I guess I don’t get it because I’m nice to my brother.” Roy folded his arms.
“But you’re mean to your sisters.”
“Am not!”
“Roy.”
“Not unless they start with me first! It’s not my fault my sisters are evil,” Roy said.
Courtney sighed, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you can’t compare you and Adore. It’s totally different, because Adore doesn't say nasty shit about you to me. She always defends you when we’re fighting. In fact, Adore is the one who told me to go out with you in the first place.”
“So...you only went out with me because Adore Delano told you to?”
Courtney paused, turning around to look into his eyes, taking in the slightly hurt, slightly challenging look on his face.
“Well, no. Of course not…” She moved forward, putting her hands on his shoulders. “But...I just mean, she was supportive. It's...it’s different.” Courtney cupped his cheek, heart racing, hoping that he would understand.
“Uh huh.”
“And like, I don't care if Adore sleeps with Pearl, I just don't know why Violet was talking about it like that. It was weird.” Courtney climbed on the bed beside him, sighing.
“Right.” Roy cleared his throat slightly, swallowing down a lump in his throat.
Eyes squeezed shut, Courtney asked in a small voice, “Can you please just be on my side?”
Roy reached for her hand. “I’m always on your side. I don’t even know how not to be on your side.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, clinging to his fingers, teeth worrying her bottom lip.
“So...” Roy began, after a moment. “She was a real cunt, huh?”
Courtney turned her head, a smile finally playing on her lips. “Yes! Exactly. I just wish I knew why she hated me.” She pouted slightly, pressing Roy’s hand to her cheek.
“Hmmm. I can’t help you there, babe. Because you’ve got the most lovable personality on the entire planet. Are you sure she’s not...you know...a little deranged?”
Courtney giggled, climbing into his arms. “You think that’s it?”
“It’s the most obvious explanation,” he said, nuzzling her cheek. “In fact, we should probably warn her parents. Maybe they’ll want to get her evaluated before she hurts someone.”
“Yeah?” Courtney began to kiss his neck.
“I mean, the failure to fall hopelessly in love with Courtney Jenek is the first sign of mental instability,” Roy murmured.
“You’re a pretty smooth talker, Del Rio…”
“You think this is good, wait until you hear my bit on the perfection that is every…square inch…of your skin…” Roy said, flipping her onto her back.
Courtney laughed, pulling him down for another kiss.
“I’m serious!” She ran her fingers through his hair, gazing up into his brown eyes. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. Which I guess bodes well for my mental health.”
“Roy!” Courtney swatted him playfully and he caught her hand, kissing her fingers. She watched his face carefully, that mischievous smirk hiding total and utter adoration. If there was one thing she’d realized this summer, it was that Roy was someone who would never let her down. Who would always be there for her. Who loved her more than she probably deserved. She cleared her throat and said, “You know, I’ve been thinking about you...and us…”
“Yeah?”
Courtney nodded, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Uh huh. And I think that...um…”
Roy held his breath, as if she was a butterfly that he could scare away with the slightest movement.
“...maybe it’s time for us to take the next step? I mean...physically?” When Roy didn’t move or say anything after a beat, Courtney quickly added, “If you want.”
Roy finally cracked a smile, deep dimples appearing in his cheeks. “If I want?”
“I don’t want to be presumptuous.”
“Right.” He lowered his head slowly to kiss her, hands sliding up under her top, weight bearing down against her as his heart began to race. As the kiss grew deeper, he suddenly felt hands on his chest.
“You do know I didn’t mean this second, right?” Courtney asked breathlessly.
“Yeah, sorry,” Roy pulled his head back, panting. “I got a little overzealous.”
“It’s okay.” She reached up and ran a thumb over his lip. “But I was thinking like, maybe...Saturday?”
“This Saturday? Seriously?”
“Yeah? Think you’re up for it?” she teased.
“I think I can handle that.”
Courtney smiled, rubbing her thigh against him with an impish look in her eyes.
“Stop that,” he warned, causing her to giggle, then placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m gonna plan something really special, I promise.”
“Can’t wait,” Courtney said softly.
-
ADORE: U okay?
COURTNEY: I’m fine
ADORE: Sorry about Violet. She told me that she said it was ur fault that me and Raja broke up?? I yelled at her.
COURTNEY: lol, i figured she was full of it. nbd
ADORE: Seriously. I’m not defending her at all. I don’t know what made her say that. It’s not true. I’m really pissed at her.
COURTNEY: Thanks
ADORE: Can we hang out again, but just the 2 of us?
COURTNEY: Of course <3
ADORE: Sat?
COURTNEY: Sunday okay?
ADORE: U got it. Hit me up anytime, I’ll be home.
-
April studied Courtney’s face critically, eyeshadow palette in one hand and angled brush in the other.
After a few moments, Courtney began to shrink self-consciously.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m just trying to figure out...oh!” She put down the palette and picked up a liquid liner, leaning over to touch up what she’d done earlier. “Hold still.”
Darienne fastened a clip into her hair, running her fingers through the blonde curls to give them a more tousled look. “Okay, so, remember, your mom thinks you’re here, so if she calls, we’ll text you.”
“She won’t,” Courtney said. “She’s doing some meditation workshop with her boyfriend.”
“God, this is so much easier with flaky parents,” Darienne sighed, and off Courtney’s scowl, stammered out, “No, I mean, your mom is awesome, I’m jealous.”
April snickered, finishing her lips and handing her a tissue to blot, then turning the chair to face the mirror. “So...what do you think? Is it what you wanted?”
Courtney stared at her reflection. The face that stared back was hers, and yet...not. Between the dark, smokey eye makeup and matte red lips, April had certainly fulfilled her request to look “older and more sophisticated.” Her clingy black dress was simple and a stark departure from her normal wardrobe of bright colors and girly pastels, sparkles and ruffles. She nodded, swallowing.
Darienne put a hand on her shoulder. “How do you feel?”
“Um...I guess a little nervous.” Courtney bit her lip.
“Yeah,” Darienne said with a light chuckle. “Listen. I’ve known Roy my whole life, and I have no doubt that he’ll have some very sweet, kind of cliché, but totally lovely evening planned for you. It’ll be romantic and beautiful and show how much he loves you.”
“Sounds accurate,” April laughed.
“But like...it’s your first time,” Darienne continued. “Both of your first times. The sex itself? It’s not gonna be good. At best, it’s gonna be like, bearable. For you, I mean. For him, it’ll probably be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
Courtney giggled, twisting the tissue in her hands.
“What I’m saying is, and I don’t know if this totally makes sense but...if I were you, I’d try not to make it all about sex. Try to just...relax, and enjoy the rest of the night. You know? Being close to him. How much he loves you. Because that’s what you’ll want to remember.”
“Yeah.” Courtney smiled, taking a deep breath.
“If it helps, my first time with Bob was in the back of his car. And he came in like, 2 seconds,” April said.
“Oh, god,” Courtney said, stifling a laugh with her hand.
“It got better,” April said with a shrug. “I mean, if he’s prepared properly, he can last through almost a whole song now.”
“Good to know,” Courtney grinned.
“Speaking of prepared, let’s make sure you have everything you need!” Darienne said, turning her attention to Courtney’s overnight bag and little silver clutch.
-
Roy stood outside April’s front door, nervous anticipation building in his stomach. The door swung open to reveal Darienne, smiling in that obnoxious maternal way of hers.
“Hi honey,” she cooed. “Come on in.”
“Would you please stop,” Roy murmured.
“Stop what? You look really handsome. Is that a new jacket?” She grinned, lashes fluttering.
“I mean it, Dar, stop being weird, this is-” Roy stopped talking abruptly when Courtney turned the corner, April at her side.
“Hi,” Courtney said softly, giving Roy a sweet, lopsided smile.
“Hi,” he breathed, transfixed. “Wow. You look...wow.”
She giggled, biting her lip coyly. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, absolutely…” He reached out his hand, and she walked forward, lacing her fingers into his. April sauntered behind her with a small black duffel bag, which Roy took quickly, peering into the family room where April’s dad sat in front of the TV. “Come on.”
“You kids have fuuuun!” Darienne sang from the doorway as they walked towards the car.
Roy rolled his eyes, tightening his grip on Courtney’s hand. She looked down, realizing for the first time that maybe she wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
“But not too much fun!” April added, snickering.
Roy opened the car door, shaking his head. “God, those two are so annoying. I can’t wait to finally-”
Courtney cut him off with a soft, sweet kiss, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. Roy relaxed against her, pulling her closer by the waist. When she lifted her head, he sighed blissfully.
“Thank you. I needed that.”
“No problem,” she said, sliding into the car with a wink. “Let’s go.”
#rpdr fanfiction#tree house kisses#scorpio#veronica#adorney#adore delano#courtney act#bitney#adore x pearl#bianca del rio#pearl liaison#violet chachki#miss fame#willam belli#trinity k bonet#darienne lake#april carrion#lesbian au#high school au#angst#fluff
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A rant talking about and defending Saihara Shuichi from haters for like an hour for his birthday.
(Warning: This post is long, again.)
Over the last (two-three???) years after DRV3 has been released I actually came across Shuichi haters here and there, and I have seen their arguments as to why they think he sucks, why he should’ve died, why Kaede should’ve survived instead, etc. Making full on posts on amino, or just scribbling his face on drawings of him and reposting the edited art on instagram. (Don’t do that to anyone’s art that’s disrespectful as hell, disgusting.)
So after I’ve seen all that, I’m going to explode and defend Shuichi right here on his birthday. I rant a lot so it’s not really new or anything so! Enjoy?
> “Shuichi doesn’t deserve to be a detective, he’s so dumb and afraid of the truth.”
Shuichi IS afraid of the truth, but he’s smart as hell. Let’s discuss something, would you, in all honesty, want Shuichi to be exactly like Kirigiri? Because most of the people who believe Shuichi is actually not smart had these expectations for him.
First off, that would be very unoriginal and unlike the writing in danganronpa. What I like about the games is how every character is written, they are all so different and unique. Just because Shuichi is the ultimate detective doesn’t mean he is going to be Kirigiri level or act like her, same as Nagito and Naegi who have the same talent and yet are so different.
The second point is that Shuichi’s specialty was doing small cases for his uncle so that he can focus on important things, which basically included finding lost pets and infidelity cases (catching cheaters). He solved only ONE murder case, he isn’t at Kirigiri’s level who may I remind you was born in a family full of detectives and had undergone strict training by her grandfather Fuhito who wanted her to be a detective no matter what. They are two different characters with completely different backgrounds, personalities, and mentalities, so they shouldn’t be compared for having the same talent.
Third thing, Shuichi ended danganronpa. He’s not stupid, he figured out Tsumugi was getting them into a trap with the hope and despair options and exposed her for wanting them to choose hope so danganronpa continues. He also figured out that Kaede’s plan to kill the mastermind failed as soon as he found a shotput ball in a trashcan. He is an actual detective, just went through shit making him afraid of the truth (which I’ll discuss next.)
People who say Shuichi doesn’t deserve to be a detective should be legally not allowed to have ice cream, no cookies and cream flavor, no oreo flavor, nothing is allowed. (I’m jk ahahaha… maybe-)
> “Shuichi is weak.”
Shuichi didn’t have enough self-confidence in himself at first, but there’s a huge reason for it. It’s the same reason why he started being afraid of the truth. Because every single time he tried doing the right thing, life came back and bit him.
He solved a murder case, turns out the killer was taking revenge for his family. He told Kaede about the possibility of a traitor, she ended up using their plan to try and kill the mastermind and was executed for killing Rantaro. He solved Miu’s case and Gonta was executed, Kaito literally stopped talking to him when all he was trying to do is keep them alive.
His parents also neglected him as a kid, probably making him think the problem is with him until he started being bitter towards them instead. These situations and the way Shuichi was raised led to him having self-confidence issues, always doubting what he was doing, if it was the right thing, and if he deserved to be a detective. (and I don’t think he should be blamed for feeling this way, heck.)
But in the end Shuichi had to believe in himself and all his feelings and deductions to end danganronpa in chapter 6. If anything, in my opinion, Shuichi is one of the strongest characters in DR for dealing with so much, he’s no longer “weak” by the end of the game but I don’t think he was in the first place.
TLDR; he’s not weak, just went through a lot and probably suffers from anxiety rip.
> “Shuichi is also extremely physically weak, a noodle, a twink, etc.”
Shuichi is in fact not weak, he is shown to be able to do up to 50 pushups a day. I can barely do one (yes the real noodle was actually me all along) He may not be the strongest man alive, but he’s not that lacking in physical strength. At some point even during the training with Maki and Kaito he reaches 50, then Kaito says he lost count and makes him start over.
If you check the caged child scene, he lifted the cage with Kokichi (Who was saying he shouldn’t have lied about being strong because it was really heavy.) So he can at least lift up a cage too.
> “Shuichi’s real self is some murder obsessed psychopath that assaults others.”
That was never confirmed by the game, it is just a fanon version of pregame Shuichi that some fans believe in. We never know if those tapes that Tsumugi showed were real or not, since the pre-memories Shuichi that we saw in the beginning of the game was more of a nervous and scared boy who said he was kidnapped (Also Kaede had to yell at to calm down, which is a notable difference to her reaction when he did the same thing the second time they got out of the lockers.)
I believe those characters we saw in the beginning were their pregame selves, Kaede wasn’t as nice and had lost her faith in humanity (but she probably knew what DR is because she was trying to ask, and didn’t exactly look happy about it), Rantaro suspected what was going on because he experienced the same thing before, and Shuichi was confused and most probably scared (I have a feeling he’d know what’s going on if he really is a huge fan of DR). The reason Tsumugi got the idea of “a weak detective that gets more confident” is because of his pregame personality. So pregame Shuichi is actually way less confident than his ingame self and it shows mostly in chapter 6.
But that’s just how I view it, take of it as you will. In the end pregame Shuichi and Ingame Shuichi are two different characters, just like pregame Kaede and ingame Kaede. So even if pregame Shuichi was like that I don’t think his ingame character should be held accountable for it. (and like I said, that's just a fanon version of him, not confirmed. You can’t even tell from the tapes if he assaults people like everyone claims he does.)
> “Kaede should’ve survived instead, she’s a way better protagonist!”
Now this is a controversial topic in the fandom, I think. Because some people love Shuichi more than Kaede and vice versa. I think people can love Shuichi but also want Kaede to be the protagonist, So I’m not going to touch on the topic of whether our favorite pianist could be a good main character or not. (We only experienced a chapter with her, we can’t tell what would’ve happened if Shuichi died instead and we continued the story with her so we can compare who is a “better” protagonist.)
But I’ll explain why Kaede HAD to die.
Kaede didn’t die for Shuichi’s development, she died because she was practically a perfect character. People suspected her dying before the game even came out! She had an actual talent, she was positive as hell, she tried uniting everyone as best as she could, she was confident and sometimes even bossy. Those were all warning flags to the fandom.
But thing is, Kaede isn’t perfect, paranoia got to her too and because she wanted to save everyone so bad she tried to kill the mastermind and died thinking she killed someone. I personally love how everything played out (except for the part where it turns out she didn’t kill anyone anyway, but I can see the appeal of the plot twist) but that’s just my opinion.
Point is, Kaede didn’t die for Shuichi to become the protagonist, there was a reason everyone suspected she’d die before the game came out and before they knew the role would go to Shuichi instead.
Also a lot of people tend to forget that Shuichi was the one who ended danganronpa. I’m not sure Kaede would’ve been able to because she probably would agree with Kiibo and chose hope, she’s not a detective after all.
Now onto the smaller arguments that I saw
> “His design is boring”
Let me see you make a better one 👀
I’m just kidding don’t kill me, but I’m pretty sure the thousands of fanarts of him prove that a lot do not agree with that point. (Me included, he is pretty boi.)
> “Playing as him sucks because he cries a lot.”
Are people are not allowed to have feelings now? The portrayal of his feelings is what made him my favorite DR protagonist, so saying you hate him for crying a lot makes it obvious that you’re either grasping at straws for reasons to hate him, or you seriously lack empathy... I don’t even think he whined / cried as much as the haters claim he does.
> “He stands in the way of my ship!”
…. Wow, I’m actually at a loss of words. I only have one advice if you hate a character for standing in the way of your ship: grow up. It’s good for your emotional health I promise.
#rant#shuichi saihara#danganronpa#drv3#ndrv3#New Danganronpa V3#oof thats all i remember for now#my sideblog is gonna be filled with shuichi fanart reblogs soon#youve been warned 😂#i think writing this took more than an hour PPFPFF#sorry for the sprinkled salt im seriously done with some people 😂#i think its totally alright to dislike a character its your opinion#but dont shove it down people's throats with shitty arguments like these#everytime someone calls shuichi weak infront of me#my nonexistent faith in humanity dies even more
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6/9: The Con(vention) Run-in
Rating: PG (Fake fight for photo op)
Characters: Convention Attendee!Bang Chan x Reader (any gender), featuring Convention Attendee!Felix and mention of other characters
Notes: The final day of my birthday surprise series. Normally I try to attend Comic Con or its sister convention WonderCon, but both were postponed due to current events. This is a non-idol AU. The Aussie line are imagined as cousins in this story. All content is fictional. Please do not repost anywhere!
————–
llamajinnie
I can’t believe it... Sent 8:10 AM
bc1997
It won’t be that bad! Besides the tickets were free! Sent 8:12 AM
Chan looked up from his phone when he felt a tap on his shoulder. His cousin was holding out his badge he needed to wear to enter the convention and he thanked him. He put his phone away in a pocket and slipped the lanyard on over his head.
Instead of working on music like he usually did in his spare time, Chan was accompanying his cousin Felix to a comic convention. The latter won tickets through a radio contest and his parents couldn’t attend. Because his mom didn’t want him going alone, she asked Chan if he could spare a weekend and accompany Felix to the convention.
Most his friends were shocked he would tag along with the younger boy, especially since Felix was the one who was more into the nerd scene, namely anime and manga. Chan’s friend Hyunjin was convinced that the former’s aunt likely bribed him with money if he drove and chaperoned Felix for a weekend at the convention, but Chan insisted he really wanted to go. Sure he wasn’t a huge comic book or pop culture nerd like his cousin, but it gave him an excuse to wear that Captain America costume he spent too much money on from Halloween.
“Thanks again,” Felix said as he flipped his badge to the front, showing his name. “Mum said lunch and dinner is on her.”
“No, it’s fine,” Chan insisted.
Felix shook his head and replied that it was non-negotiable. The pair made their way to a line to enter the convention center and waited for security to wave them inside. They flashed their badges at the security personnel and stepped inside.
Felix adjusted his beret, which was starting to slide off his head, due to the long rabbit ears he put on top.
“So uh, who are you again?” Chan asked as he studied his cousin’s costume.
“Momiji from Fruits Basket,” Felix explained. “He’s the rabbit in the Chinese zodiac. Thought it made sense, since everyone thinks I’m still a kid with the baby face.”
“Plus the hair,” Chan added. “Okay, never saw the anime, but cool!”
Felix nodded as he fixed his backpack straps and dashed ahead to check out the tables in the art section of the convention. Chan tried to catch up and had to apologize as he weaved around other participants. He ducked as a Harley Quinn from the recent live-action film barely missed him with her toy bat, as she started to put it up for a photo op.
“Hang on Cap, can I get a picture?” a male voice asked.
Chan whirled around and saw it was a father with a young son, dressed as Thor. He smiled at the son and nodded as he removed his shield backpack off his shoulders to hold for the photo. The son hesitated, and shyly looked up at Chan.
“Come on Thor, we need you in the picture too,” Chan said as he motioned for the young boy to stand next to him.
The young boy skipped over to him and Chan knelt down on one knee. He held out his shield backpack, while the boy clutched his toy version of Mjölnir. The father snapped the picture with his digital camera and quickly checked the photo, before flashing a thumbs-up.
“Thank you,” Chan said as he stood up. He waved goodbye to the young boy and secured the backpack on his shoulders. He craned his neck, looking for Felix, who was several feet away, talking to one artist at their booth. He quickly walked toward his cousin and tapped him on the shoulder.
Felix whirled around and pointed to some example works of art that the artist had on display. “Perfect timing! Actually I was thinking about doing a commission with this guy. Who should I have done?”
Chan bit his lip and tried to think of any anime characters that he might know. He maybe watched a few as a kid growing up, but his mum made him go out and play or practice swimming, which was better than sitting in front of a screen in her opinion.
“Um...Goku from Dragonball Z? Naruto?” he offered, trying not to wince. “Sorry, it’s been a really long time since I’ve watched an anime.”
Felix nodded and flipped through the dossier on the table for inspiration for a few seconds. Eventually he settled on some character from an anime he wasn’t familiar with (Tower something?) and the artist scribbled a note in his notebook.
“It’s going to take me probably until 1 PM to do that,” the artist told Felix. “Someone is ahead of you with a two character commission, so that’s gonna be worked on first. I’d say come back around 2:30 and I might have it ready by then.”
Felix thanked him and dug out his wallet to pay for the piece. He passed over some bills and the artist made change for him.
————–
“Is that Binnie you’re messaging?” Felix asked.
Chan shook his head as he looked up from his phone. “Hyunjin. He’s convinced I’m trapped and not having fun. But then again, he’s not big on crowds and comic stuff.”
“Oh...” Felix trailed off. He craned his neck and noticed there were two seats closer to the front of the room. “We should grab those before the next panel starts.” He pushed himself out of his seat and quickly walked over to the empty chairs.
Chan stood up and followed his cousin, eventually taking the aisle seat in their new row. The pair had walked the floor for a few hours and now they were sitting in a room to listen and watch a panel on some anime series that Felix watched regularly. This allowed Chan to sit and relax, as well as respond to Hyunjin about how things were going.
“I promise we can grab lunch after this,” Felix whispered as someone came on stage to introduce the panelists.
Chan flashed him a thumbs-up and pocketed his phone out of respect for the panel. He leaned back in his seat as the moderator introduced all of the voice acting talent and then they rolled a new trailer for the next season. Once the trailer ended, the moderator began asking questions to the members on the panel and the audience listened to their responses. Eventually the panel began accepting fan questions, and Felix decided to rush up to the mic to ask one.
“MOMIJI!” one of the female panelists yelled with a huge smile on her face. “Oh my gosh, you are precious!”
Felix blushed at the compliment and ducked his head, before composing him and asking his question. The deep voice shocked the panelists and Chan bit back a laugh as one of the male panelists joked that he wanted to trade voices with Felix. The comment made the room laugh and Felix laughed along with them, then stepped to the side for the next fan to ask their question.
————–
The boys exited the panel room after Felix’s panel concluded and Chan began researching local restaurants they could get lunch at. Both decided against the convention center food, as it was pricey and Felix mentioned that Minho had tried it once during a cat convention, giving it poor reviews.
“There’s a cat convention? Oh wait, that’s rhetorical,” Chan mused as he pictured their friend walking every row of the cat convention with a content smile on his face. “Do you know if they had cats for adoption? Or was it products for your cat?”
“Both apparently,” Felix replied as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Minho went to look at special food for one cat, cause he needed to go on a diet, and then he wanted a fancy collar for his female cat.”
“That’s not where he got the third cat right?”
His cousin gave him a blank look and scrunched his brows. “Hang on, he has three now? I thought he only had two!”
“No he’s got three now,” Chan confirmed. “His Christmas card showed him with three cats plus him wearing Santa hats.”
Felix tried to recall if he got a Christmas card from Minho, while Chan went back to looking at restaurants. He paused when he found some options and started to show them to his cousin. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned his head to see it was someone dressed as Bucky Barnes in his Winter Soldier attire.
“Hey Cap, could we get a fight picture?” you asked under your black mask.
He nodded as he slowly removed his backpack from his shoulders and held the straps so they wouldn’t show in the picture. He turned to face you and you balled up the fist with your “metal” arm.
“I’m going to punch your shield, okay?” you explained.
He nodded and positioned himself as if he was defending himself with the shield. You placed your fist on the center of the shield and adjusted your feet, so it looked more convincing.
Felix stepped between the two of you and asked if you had a camera or phone you wanted to use. You nodded and used your free hand to pull out and unlock your phone. You switched to the camera app and handed it to him, murmuring a thank you.
He took the phone and put in landscape mode, checking to make sure everything was in focus. He counted to three, before clicking the button your screen a few times, just so you had more than one. He then switched to his phone and took some pictures too. He passed your phone over and you thanked him before checking the photos over.
“Perfect, thanks,” you replied. You dug around in your tactical vest and produced a card with your name and Instagram handle on it. “If you’re on IG, feel free to tag me. I’ll be uploading pics later tonight.”
Chan accepted the card and thanked you with a smile. He put it away in his pocket and added that you did an amazing job with it.
“Thank you,” you replied. “The arm was the hardest part but it came out good. Not the most comfortable thing to wear, but it’s all good. You make a good Cap.”
Chan ducked his head and waved it away as nothing. “I bought my costume – wish I had your talent.”
“Ah who cares? It looks great and you do too,” you confirmed, flashing him a thumbs-up. Your phone buzzed in your hand and you groaned when you saw it was your alarm for your next panel you were hoping to see. “Shoot, gotta run. My panel starts in 7 minutes. Have a great con!”
Chan nodded as he waved goodbye to you, while Felix held up his phone to show off his pictures.
“They came out pretty good,” he noted. “I’m guessing they’re a professional cosplayer.”
Chan patted the pocket with the card. “I’ll have to look them up online when we’re done.”
#Stray Kids Bang Chan#Stray Kids Felix#Stray Kids AU#SKZ AU#Bang Chan#Lee Felix#Bang Chan AU#Lee Felix AU#yourkeeperoftherunners original#number 3007
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So a few days ago Natsuki Takaya tweeted out That Hajime is a daddy’s boy, but is also a grandpa’s boy.
So I got inspired and wrote a small fanfic of Hajime spending time with his dad and grandpa. It’s been years since I wrote a Fruits Basket fan fic so hopefully it’s good.
A Day with Daddy and Grandpa
Hajime Pov- Eight Years Old
“Daddy come on! We’re going to be late,” I yelled, standing at the front door and practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. He promised me that we would get to go to the dojo today and see grandpa. I wanted to watch another match between them.
Daddy made his way into the hallway, mommy following close behind with the same sweet smile she always has on her face. The sight of her smile always made one appear on my own face. It was just so soothing, it made you feel like you were soaking in a lukewarm bath.
“Calm down Hajime. It’s not like grandpa is going anywhere,” Daddy sighed.
Mom’s smile grew as she handed daddy a bento box big enough to hold lunch for the three of us. “He’s just excited Kyo-kun. It’s been awhile since he’s seen Master after all. I wish I could go with you, but I promised Machi-chan I would help her shop for a birthday present for Yuki-kun.”
“Just get the damn rat a potted plant or something,” daddy grumbled, making mommy playfully push his arm.
“Kyo-kun! What did I say about cursing in front of Hajime?”
“Cursing is a part of my vocabulary Tohru. It can’t be censored.”
I never knew why mommy bothered scorning daddy about his cursing. It’s not like I went around repeating the words he says. I did it once and mommy freaked out and turned into a fumbling mess of words. I also never understood why daddy calls Uncle Yuki a rat. They both had weird nicknames for each other. Uncle Yuki was a rat, and daddy was a ‘stupid cat’. Mutsuki and I always found it weird.
“Come on daddy!”
Daddy sighed shaking his head at me before smiling back at my mommy. “I guess we’re heading out now. I’ll tell Master you said hi.”
Mommy nodded before leaning in and kissing daddy on the lips. Groaning, I covered my eyes with my hands.
“Gross!”
Daddy put the bento he was holding in his sports bag before throwing it over his shoulder. “You only think it’s gross because you’re a kid.”
“Kissing will always be gross,” I argued, crossing my arms over my chest.
Mommy smiled at me, walking over and kneeling down to be at my level. “If you think it’s gross, does that mean you don’t want me to kiss you goodbye?”
My shoulders stiffened at that. There’s no way I can leave without a kiss from mommy… but I just made a big deal about how gross it is. Daddy says a real man never goes back on his word. Will letting mommy kiss me goodbye mean I’m not a real man?
I clenched my hands at my sides, my facial expression serious as I tried to hold my ground.
“Sorry mommy, but I can’t kiss you goodbye.”
Mommys’ smile turned sad, making my heart clench painfully. “I see… that makes me a little sad. My little boy is already becoming a man. Kids really do grow up so fast.”
My hands clenched tighter, my knuckles turning white from it. I can do this. I can be a man and leave the house without a kiss from my mommy. It’s what a true man would do!
Mommy reached out, running her fingers through my orange hair gently. I always loved when she did that. It was something soothing that she usually did when I had trouble sleeping at night. She and daddy would let me lay in bed with them and she would just rub my head till I fell asleep.
Guilt filled my chest, making my fists slowly unclench until my hands were just limp at my sides. As mommy started to stand up, I quickly threw my arms around her neck and hugged her before kissing her cheek. She seemed surprised but the expression quickly turned to one of pure happiness as she wrapped her arms around me and kissed my cheek in return.
“I love you, Hajime. I hope you have a wonderful day with daddy and grandpa.”
I smiled letting her go. “I always have fun with grandpa.”
“Hey, what about me,” daddy asked crossing his arms.
I smiled up at him. “It’s fun being with you too daddy. Grandpa is cooler though. He always wins when you guys fight.”
Since they both own dojos, they always spar and let me watch them. I’ve never seen daddy win. He claims it happened once, but grandpa won’t tell me whether it’s true or not. With how strong grandpa is, I don’t believe it.
Daddy scowled at that for a moment before just laughing. “Yeah, grandpa is pretty cool.”
He kissed mommy one more time before grabbing my hand and leading me out of the house. I went with him, glancing at how much bigger his hands were compared to mine. Seeing the size of his hands always makes me wonder if mine will look like that someday. I can’t imagine myself as a grown up, but if I think about it, I feel like I would look just like daddy.
The older people at the main estate say I already look like him. It’s rare for us to go there, but when we do, I hear a bunch of whispers and even a few scorns directed at daddy. They make it sound like looking like him is a bad thing. The way daddy reacts to it isn’t any better. He smiles at them, but it’s not the one he always gives mommy and I. It seemed… nervous.
I don’t know why the older people talk about daddy, or why it makes him so uneasy. Once I asked mommy about it, and she just smiled like always and told me it’s something I don’t need to concern myself with. That didn’t feel true though.
Whatever they are hiding… it feels important.
“Are you excited to train with Grandpa today,” Daddy asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I smiled, looking up at him. “Always.”
Daddy was the one who was teaching me martial arts, and I loved learning from him. It was also fun learning from grandpa. He teaches me things that he taught daddy at my age, and he tells me stories about what daddy was like while he was being trained.
I want to say that Daddy was grandpa’s most skilled student, but I can’t after seeing Uncle Yuki kick him far enough to end up on the other side of the yard. It was shocking for sure. Uncle Yuki didn’t seem like someone who knows how to fight.
He doesn’t know how to cook or clean, so I guess there had to be something he’s good at. He makes really pretty flowers and yummy veggies in his gardens. That’s a skill I guess. It’s just not as cool as daddy’s.
“I’m sure he’s excited to train with you. It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to come over. Knowing him, he’s going to dote all over you the moment we get there.”
That made me smile wide. Grandpa always gave me tight hugs and read me the best books. He also gave me presents every once in awhile.
We were down the street from the dojo and I could already see Grandpa waiting by the door. He smiled and waved as he saw us approaching. Letting go of daddy’s hand, I ran the rest of the way, holding my arms out to him laughing. Once I got to him, he grabbed me by the sides and lifted me high into the air, over his head. I laughed more, loving every time he did that. It always felt like flying and the air I breathed always felt a little bit clearer.
“Master, be careful. You aren’t as young as you used to be. Someday you’re going to throw out your back,” Daddy said, when he finally caught up to me.
Grandpa lowered me but kept me in his arms. I wrapped mine tight around his neck, laying my head on his shoulder happily.
“He’s not heavy at all. You’re looking well Kyo. How is Tohru?”
Daddy shook his head before taking me out of grandpa’s arms, making me whine. “She’s doing great. The beginning signs of pregnancy hit her a couple of days ago. She was getting sick a lot, but it seemed to have passed. She said she was sorry she couldn’t make it today.”
Grandpa shook his head, leading us inside. “It’s no problem. Sounds like your second child will be born strong and healthy.”
Daddy nodded, setting me down on the floor once we were in the family room. “It’s still pretty early. She isn’t even showing yet. We are both hopeful that they will be born safe though.”
I tried not to think about the new baby coming. The thought of having to share mommy and daddy’s attention was not something I was happy with. Not only that, I will have to share grandpa too.
Grandpa beamed at the thought of another grandchild. He would always bug my parents about having more kids and they finally got around to it. I’m not sure how they did it. Maybe it was some kind of magic. Aunt Hana has those freaky wave powers. Maybe there is magic that puts babies in people.
We all sat at the table on the floor, and grandpa grabbed a dumpling from a bowl and held it out to me smiling. “Here Hajime, have a treat.”
I smiled excitedly, taking it from him and biting into it. It was so sweet and didn’t taste like ash, meaning he got them from the market and didn’t cook them himself.
Speaking of that, daddy was glancing around, stretching his neck out to peer into the kitchen for signs that grandpa had tried cooking again. He was horrible in the kitchen. As daddy says, ‘he can kick ass like nobody's business, but he can’t boil water.’
“Whatever are you looking for Kyo,” he asked, watching him.
Daddy gave him a blank stare. “You know damn well what i’m looking for. Signs of a fire.”
“I promised you I would stop trying to cook and I meant it.”
“I have a hard time believing that,” he sighed, unzipping his bag and pulling out the bento mommy made. He set it on the table before standing up and going to the kitchen to get some plates.
Grandpa watched him go before smiling at me. “How have you been Hajime? Do you like school?”
I shrugged, glancing away. “I guess… all the kids make fun of my hair color. Mutsuki isn’t in the same grade, so I'm all by myself.”
He smiled sadly at that. “Kids can be cruel sometimes. Your dad used to get picked on all the time because of his hair.”
“Why does daddy have orange hair grandpa? Did daddy’s other parents have orange hair?”
He shook his head no. “It was a special genetic trait.”
A lot of us seemed to inherit ‘special genetic traits’. Mutsuki has his daddy's gray hair, while Riku has a mix of white and black like Uncle Haru. A lot of our aunts and uncles have weird hair. Mutsuki’s uncle Ayame had plain white hair.
“What about the baby? Are you excited about having a brother or sister?”
I quickly shook my head no. “I don’t want to share mommy, Daddy, or you.”
He chuckled at that. “It can be hard to adjust to a thought like that. You’re used to getting all of our attention. Don’t think that me or your parents will love you any less with another kid around. You will still have the same amount of love that you always get.”
I shrugged, looking down at the table. “What if mommy and daddy can’t love the both of us?”
“The love of a parent is the strongest power in the world Hajime. It doesn’t shrink or weaken. It only grows bigger and bigger. There will always be a place for you in your parents' hearts. In mine as well.”
His words made my chest feel warm, just like mommy’s words always seem to do. Grandpa reminded me a lot of mommy. He was nice, and always said things that make you feel safe and comforted. I strive to be half as amazing as he and mommy are.
Daddy came back with the plates and set the table before distributing out the food mommy made. Once it was all plated, I thanked him for the food before grabbing my chopsticks and breaking them apart. I held them as steadily as possible and struggled to pick up a slice of omelette, dropping it every time.
Daddy reached over and steadied my hand better, teaching me how to properly hold the sticks. I tried again but still kept dropping my food. He smiled slightly at my effort before reaching into the bento box and pulling out a fork. It seems mommy was prepared for my not being able to hold the sticks.
He held the fork out to me and I pouted, reaching out and grabbing it. I didn’t want to have to use it. I wanted to show grandpa just how much I’ve grown. That wasn’t working out too well.
“You held those chopsticks great Hajime. I’m sure soon you will be using them like a pro,” Grandpa acknowledged, trying to spare my feelings.
I just silently ate, listening to him and daddy talk about mommy and how one of the guest rooms is being turned into a nursery for the baby.
After lunch was done, we walked down to Grandpa’s dojo. Well, I practically ran there. I couldn’t help it, I was just so excited to see them spar with each other. It was always so cool to see the way grandpa barely has to move around to avoid getting hit by daddy. Daddy says his movements have become slower with old age, but he still can’t get a punch in.
We got there and Grandpa got low to the ground smiling at me. “Show me how much stronger your punches have gotten, Hajime,” he said holding up his hand.
“I don’t know grandpa. Mommy says my punches are very strong, I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
Grandpa looked up at daddy with an amused face, making him laugh. “Tohru likes to encourage him.”
I pouted angrily. “Are you saying mommy lied? Mommy never lies, I am super strong.”
Grandpa looked at me again, still holding up his hand. “Well then show me.”
I nodded getting in my stance and taking a soothing breath. All my power had to be put into this one punch, to prove to them both that I’m not a weak little kid. I’m a man and I can fight just as hard as they can.
My fist flew toward grandpa’s hand before making contact, slamming into it so hard grandpa’s hand got pushed back a little. That made me smile and I looked up at him smugly.
“See that, I moved your hand because I’m so strong.”
He shook his head before pulling me toward him, just to painfully flick me on the forehead and send me falling on my butt. I groaned, putting my hand over the spot he flicked. It was warm and hurt.
“You are getting stronger, but you shouldn’t be cocky about it. There will always be someone stronger than you. Never underestimate your opponent or get too comfortable in your level of strength.”
Daddy rubbed his own forehead as if feeling sympathy pains. I’m sure grandpa flicked him all the time as a child.
“Why don’t you go sit on one of the benches so you can watch us?”
I nodded, getting up and doing as he said.
They both got into a fighting stance before daddy ran at grandpa, jumping in the air and trying to kick him. Grandpa moved out of the way, not even lifting his arms as he dodged each one of daddy’s attacks.
I laughed shaking my head at daddy. No matter how much he tries, he never gets one over on grandpa.
They went on like that for an hour until Grandpa finally put daddy out of his misery and punched him in the face, sending him to the ground. I covered my eyes before peeking through them, seeing daddy was laying on the ground laughing. Only grandpa can make someone like daddy laugh at being punched.
“Okay, you won this round master. I swear I’ll win the next one,” he said standing up and dusting himself off.
Grandpa chuckled at that and scruffed up daddys hair. “I can be eighty years old and you still couldn’t get one over on me.”
Daddy smirked at him. “Just you wait, I’ll prove you wrong.”
Grandpa smiled sweetly at him before looking over at me. “Perhaps Hajime will be the one to finally beat me.”
I nodded enthusiastically before jumping off the bench and running over to them. I threw a punch toward grandpa but daddy caught my fist before it could connect and flipped me, making me land on my back with a grunt. Daddy laughed at me, shaking his head.
“You have to be able to defeat me before you can even get close to beating him.”
I pouted at that, knowing he was right. I can’t even beat daddy in a fight yet. My training only began last year. He’s still teaching me the basics.
“Fine, then I will beat you. I will beat you and then I will beat grandpa!”
Grandpa smirked at that before looking at daddy. “He sounds like you when you tried to beat Yuki.”
“His goal of beating you is unlikely as me beating Yuki,” daddy responded, making me huff.
Daddy pulled out his phone, looking at the time. “Oh, Tohru should be getting done shopping with Machi by now. We should head home. She wanted us to go to the store with her to get the ingredients for dinner.”
I gasped excitedly, getting up off the ground. “Are we going to help mommy make dinner?”
Daddy smiled, picking me up and holding me over his head, just like grandpa did. I laughed and held my arms up, loving when he did this too. He set me back on the ground looking back at grandpa.
“You’re free to come over for dinner if you want. I’m sure Tohru would love to see you.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll be having dinner with my wife. She was hoping you all would come over next weekend though. She wants Tohru help her with a new recipe.”
“I’m sure she would love that. I’ll bring it up to her.”
He nodded and stroked my head smiling. “Thank you for spending the day with me Hajime. I always love getting to see you.”
I jumped into Grandpa's arms, wrapping my arms tight around his neck in a hug. “I love you too, Grandpa! Will we get to do this again sometime soon?”
He nodded hugged me tight. “Very soon I hope.”
Daddy took me from him before setting me on the ground and taking my hand. “Let’s get going little man. Mommy will be waiting for us. We don’t want to keep her too long.”
I nodded squeezing his hand and waved to grandpa one more time before walking away with Daddy.
“Did you have fun spending time with grandpa,” he asked looking down at me.
I nodded smiling excitedly. “I can’t wait till the next time we see him. Next weekend can’t get here soon enough.”
Daddy shook his head smiling, squeezing my hand as we made our way back home.
“No, no it can’t.”
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