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lovelookspretty · 3 months ago

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not so bad

— in which rafe and y/n absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned y/n as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.

college!rafe cameron x reader au

warning(s): n/a. just a bitchy rafe whos generous n gets awkward as fuck when it comes to u

authors note: college!rafe is lowkey nicer to y/n since he can’t help his buried feelings !! but he’s still an ass. i wouldve casted drew as himself but drew is too sweet i cant even imagine him having like a female sworn enemy that he lowk has a crush on

the door swings open, revealing rafe himself. he’s silent as soon as he sees you. “lock the door,” he says as he turns around and starts to head further inside, leaving you at the entrance.

“lock the door,” you mock-mumble under your breath as you enter, closing and locking the door behind you like you’re told. you look around, realizing you’ve never actually seen rafe’s dorm before. his friends’ dorms maybe, but never his.

his dorm is surprisingly clean, with only empty to fully filled water bottles scattered around, but very few. both sides of the room are displayed with posters on its walls, you can fell which bed is his and it’s made with its sheets tucked tightly in the crevices with two large pillows at the head of it.

you watch as he walks over to his desk and sits in the chair, opening up his laptop to the online textbook provided for the class.

he peers over his shoulder to glance at you, “can you fucking—i don’t know—sit down somewhere? the furniture isn’t coated in poison, you know.”

you fight the urge to make a remark, and you just sigh and let it go. “kay!” you say, and carefully making your way over to sit on the edge of his bed, placing your bag by your side. you catch his eye when you reply so eagerly without a problem, but you ignore this.

“where’s your roommate?” you ask him, looking around. “just wanna make sure when i need to expect someone- also, typically i charge for tutoring, and if crawford is making me tutor you then i’m charging you double. hundred-fifty an hour.”

rafe looks pissed, shaking his head and opening his mouth like he’s about to argue before closing it again. finally, he sighs, leaning against the wall by the kitchen. “my roommate’s just . . . out . . . today. he’s running errands. whatever, can we just get this over with? i’ll pay you after.”

you grin, feeling even satisified that rafe has to use his own cash to pay for however long this will take. “have a girl coming over tonight?” you guess from the way he’s rushing you. you reach into your bag for your ipad, “this wouldn’t be happening if you’d just pay attention in class, you know.”

“i know," rafe mutters, still annoyed but trying not to show it. "i just don't get how humanities could be important in the real world," he says, running a hand through his hair before resting the side of his head against his spread index finger and thumb, looking at you. “or my world, i mean.”

“still trying to do real estate?” you puzzle, pulling up the notes you took during class for him to look at. “it’s like your dad’s job, right? the cameron department thing.”

“cameron development,” he corrects you, hissing through his teeth.

“whatever. just surprised you’re not pursing sex work from all the girls i see you pull into bathrooms at parties,” you mutter out the end of your sentence under your breath, in a way not wanting to bring up that you’ve even noticed that before . . . again . . . and again . . .

“yeah?” he seems amused. “sex could sell more homes than fuckin’ humanities ever could.”

“sex?” you repeat with raised brows. “damn near prostitution versus political science, sociology, journalism, anthropology,” you name off as you lean left and right in your seat, pretending to think and weigh out your options. “yeah, maybe passing your humanities class can be a good thing! pull up your notes, please?”

“i did," rafe grumbles, gesturing to his laptop.

“i said notes, not the textbook. i wanna see what you’ve even written down while in class,” you say.

he’s silent as he opens up his documents, and he pulls up his most recent document filed under notes. he hands his laptop over to you as he leans back in his seat. you look over his text.

furrowing your eyebrows, you say, “okay, so you . . . you wrote the title of his lesson yesterday. that’s good. but under that you didn’t even write down any notes, you just have someone’s phone number. are you that predictable?”

he chews on his dog tag necklace and shrugs, taking his laptop back. “she was new. just wanted to make a friend,” he insists, closing out the tab.

you hum. you don’t really believe him but it isn’t like you care enough to argue over that. you hand him your ipad to show him your notes. “we’ll start at the beginning of the unit,” you tell him as he takes it.

rafe lets out a breath from his nose as he matches your energy from before, “‘kay!” he skims over your writing, gnawing on his pencil quietly.

you almost catch yourself smiling that he does this, but you refrain.

the lesson seems to be going better than you thought, though there are some pissed glances here and there from both sides. it takes two hours to go over the unit with examples and practices. you’re already exhausted.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, the lesson ends. rafe slumps back in his chair, relieved to be done with the humanities assignments that you made him do for now. he looks up at you, barely casting a smile your way. “thanks for the help,” he mumbles, awkwardly meeting your gaze.

“thanks for the money,” you say, half-reminding him that he needs to hold up his end of the deal as you stand from your seat.

as he stands, he bumps into your ipad on his desk. it collides with his opened water bottle he’d been drinking out of the past hour or so and both of you know what’s about to happen. you blurt out a noise and try to dodge the water coming your way but fail, getting his water on your legs and even more pouring at your crocs that invite even more liquid in. you can just feel your socks absorbing it now.

rafe grimaces as he stares down at your wet legs, and the least he does is reaches down to grab the bottle and the cap that flew off the desk. he closes it up and sets it on his desk as you take off your shoes and socks, holding them with barely your fingers.

“i have uh . . . towels, paper towels,” he says, and you just nod immediately, accepting whatever to dry yourself off.

when he comes back, you grab the paper towels and shove your soggy socks into his chest which he takes out of instinct before exclaiming and dropping them on the floor. you can’t help but look back and glare at him before patting your legs dry, and then tossing the paper towel into the nearby trash can that sat at one of the ends of his desk.

you can see rafe shrug as he picks up your socks and hovers over his trash can too. “might as well,” he murmurs.

“wh— are you serious?” you try to catch the socks, but then again, he’s too far and you have no business carrying some wet ass socks back to your dorm. your hands fall to your sides as you sigh.

it’s like he’s visibly contemplating (or debating with himself) before he walks over to his dresser and rummages through a drawer, finally pulling out a pair of socks. “here,” he says, tossing them to you, which you almost fail to catch from the sudden surprise. “they’re clean. swear.”

you give him a doubtful look. “i didn’t need your socks. i have plenty in my own drawer, thanks,” you say, placing the pair on his desk to reject them, and he stares at you.

he shakes his head and turns around. “so difficult,” he murmurs under his breath, and he quickly cleans up his drawer before closing it.

he grabs his wallet from on top of the dresser too, pulling out the wad of cash. you can tell from the look on his face that he’s not only doing this to count his money properly but also to subtly flex right in front of you. you roll your eyes and look away.

he counts out his three-hundred before handing it to you, scrunching up his nose as he stuffs his wallet into his pocket. you stare at the money, then take it while giving him a glare.

you quickly count it but bless, there’s two hundred dollar bills and then five twenty’s. perfect.

“okay, good luck on your exam,” you say and grab your bag, heading for the door like you’re in a hurry this time.

“wait,” rafe says, and you almost groan from annoyance. you just want to go back to your dorm. “here,” he mumbles to himself, and he steps over to the mini-fridge in the corner. he opens it up and grabs a water bottle, then tosses it to you.

“rafe,” you say, not really expecting all of these ‘gifts’ just for screaming at him for two hours about humanities. you toss it back to him, which he catches.

“just for the road,” he insists with a shake of his head. “since i spilled mine on you.”

you stare at him like he’s stupid. “dude, i live down the hallway.”

when you see his awkward reaction, you almost feel bad. actually you do. and it’s weird. usually you don’t notice this at all, but something about rafe feeling dumb about trying to thank you just makes you feel guilty for how you’ve treated him. fine.

you give him a look like you’re saying okay. that it’s okay to give you gifts and that you’re okay with receiving them. rafe doesn’t even cast a smile, he just nods. you squint your eyes at him before heading for his door again.

rafe meets you there and holds out the water bottle for you. you look up at him and take it. you almost smile, and it seems like he might too, but you both catch yourselves and quickly look away.

“ace your exam so you won’t have to hear from me like this again,” you say, half-joking to keep up their normal behavior.

“i’ll try, i’ll try,” he says simply, and stands at his door while you leave. you raise your eyebrows once before heading off to your dorm, taking your bag and your water bottle with you. you hear his door shut from behind you.

as you walk away, you can’t help but replay the moment in your head, the weird sense of camaraderie that just occurred. maybe, just maybe, rafe cameron isn’t the most horrible person on the planet. and it doesn’t help that he’s unfortunately attractive, which makes it slightly more difficult now to keep up the mutual hatred you have for each other.

from inside the dorm, rafe stands there for a moment, staring at the closed door. he shakes his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“not so bad,” he mutters to himself before turning back to his desk, ready to tackle his upcoming humanities exam thanks to you.

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nyaagolor · 11 months ago

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Ranking the Ace Attorney main cast on whether or not I think they'd be a narc

I was making a more coherent, serious post about the different approaches to justice each of the characters have and how that is shaped by their backstory... and then I realized a funnier question is what they would do if they saw you eating a weed brownie so I made this post instead

Phoenix: In the trilogy era, yes. He trusts people, but believes that trust has to be built on pursuing justice and always accepting the harsh reality. He'd be sad about it, but a narc nonetheless. In his Beanix era he's making his money through "totally legal gambling" and on the hunt for questionably legal evidence so I have no doubt in my mind there's a pot farm under the WAA for supplemental income. He gives up his narc ways and for that I salute him

Apollo: If I were to pick a single member of this cast who is NOT invited to the rotation it would be him. He had zero hesitation throwing Kristoph to the wolves after working for him for years so I know he has absolutely zero qualms about ratting out his friends or coworkers. Loyalty means nothing in the eyes of justice and it means nothing to him. He's a narc.

Athena: She's gonna lecture you and look all sad about it, but she's no snitch. She's been through the rounds with Simon so she gets it. Having to know you hurt her feelings is enough of a punishment in her eyes

Edgeworth: He's not a narc but he IS obsessed with being right, so if you don't immediately fess up with exactly what you're doing he's going to send your stoned ass to the chess dimension and honestly I think that's worse

Franziska: Unfortunately she is a cop. Narc.

Godot: Diego-era yeah he's a narc, but after the coma? I feel like he has better things to worry about, he would just ignore you. He has some soul searching to do and some grief complexes to unlearn he doesn't have the time to be a lil snitch. Post prison I think he's stoned somewhere in Kurain and chillaxing, as is his right

Klavier: Don't let his rockstar attitude fool you he's a narc and extremely annoying about it. The gavinners tour bus is dry as hell and it's all Klavier's fault. Daryan offers him a line and he gets all uppity and says "the only LINE i want you doing is the third line in the prechorus, you keep messing up the syncopation" and that's the end of that discussion

Simon: He's been in prison so he knows what's up. Not a narc. Might glare at you until you share though

Nahyuta: He's a narc and will lecture you so long about it you're tempted to turn yourself in to get out of earshot. He also never forgets and never forgives. Datz is trying to reform him but it isn't going well

Sebastian: Yes, but I think the idea of him having to turn in someone for it would make him cry so they end up comforting him instead. Kay thinks he needs to try a weed brownie

Maya: I want you to look at me and tell me she doesn't smoke weed. Not a narc

Pearl: I think if she found out that her big sister figure smoked weed she would have a heart attack. Def a narc

Trucy: I can say with absolute certainty that if you really wanted weed she could find you a dealer faster than anyone in the cast. Trucy is a magician and has grown up around a variety of people involved with some seedier institutions, she knows better than to snitch. Has not been and will never be a narc

Kay: Will help you shoplift. Not a narc

Gumshoe: A narc on principle, but would feel really bad about it and would probably let you off with a warning if you started crying or acting upset because I think he's a softie. He's not unreasonable

Ema: If you think she has even the tiniest sliver of respect for cops you're lying to yourself. Not a narc and will actively help you evade police out of principle. A homie, honestly

Fulbright: Not only is he a narc but he definitely runs the DARE program at the local highschool and is printed on half the posters they put up in the precinct. I'm also like 80% sure he doesn't actually know how weed works

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ronance4everbrainrot · 3 months ago

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EEEEEEven more incorrect quotes! Merlin Academy Gang! AND MORE. Kinda long? Idk

(and ships)

Hook: Okay, who's turn is it to give the pep talk?

Uliana: It's Hades's turn.

Hades: Don't die.

Uliana, wiping a tear away: Truly inspirational.

(so beautiful 😭 I don't know how to explain, but this is canon now)

---

Maleficent : Now it's time for some witty back and forth banter. You go first.

Fay: *sobbing*

Maleficent : Look, I'm not sure where to go with that.

(She's used to her and Hades banter and fights. Fay still needs to get used to that)

---

Fay: What the hell is wrong with you?

Hades: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

(mm. Yeah.)

---

Hook: Goodnight to the love of my life, Morgie, and fuck the rest of y'all.

(just a normal day)

---

Morgie: *is throwing stones at Ella's window*

Ella: You have a phone for a reason, Morgie!

*THUD*

Ella: DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

(Love my little chaos goblin. He absolutely knew what he was doing)

---

Ella: Hey, I was wondering, have any of you guys ever seen Morgie’s bedroom?

Bridget: No, they refuse to let any of us visit. You know what that means.

Maleficent, nodding: Dungeon.

Hades, nodding: Rich.

Uliana , nodding: Homeless.

Ella, nodding: Secretly in the mafia.

Bridget: What? No, I meant they’re messy. What the hell is wrong with all of you?

(Hook not being there because he's in Morgie's bedroom right now. they are cuddling)

---

Ella: I apologize for saying 'fuck' in front of Bridget.

Fay: You just said it again.

Bridget:

Ella: I am not a role model.

(don't worry Ella. She knows worse. She just doesn't use them)

---

Bridget: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

(once she went back to wonderland and didn't text anyone anything. Just sulking in her feelings for Ella)

---

Hades: How do you do that?

Charming: I'm fearless.

Hook: I saw you run from bees yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad.

Charming: I'm mostly fearless.

(Mhm. But fair)

---

Bridget, on the phone: I better go…kay, call me later… byeeee!

Hook: Friend of Yours?

Bridget: Nope, wrong number.

Hook: ???

(Hey. She's not gonna pass on making new friends 🤷)

---

(add some glassheart)

Chloe: What do you call quantums of electromagnetic radiation that don’t get along?

Red: What did you just say-

Chloe: Foetons! *Laughs*

Red: Wh-what?

(love how Red is just confused. Chloe making puns/dad jokes. Canon, actually)

---

Ella: Please pray for Chloe.

Bridget: What happened to them?

Ella: Nothing, they’re just very stupid.

(not her own mother saying that (he doesn't know tho lol). But honestly that's after the vase incident.)

---

Red: Chloe, you're my best friend.

Chloe: Best friend? BEST friend?! Bitch, I'm your only friend.

Chloe: I'M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF TOLERATING YOUR DUMB ASS!

(oop- true)

---

*The gang's thoughts on stabbing*

Morgie/Fay: Would never stab anyone.

Ella/Charming: Would stab someone in retaliation.

Hook/Maleficent: Yells "I won't hesitate, bitch!" first.

Hades: Would stab without warning.

Uliana/Bridget: Would stab as a warning.

(I wanted to put Bridget in the last one lol. Like if someone went too far and hurt one of her friends she'd be like *stab* don't do it again or next time it will be worse)

---

Uliana: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

Bridget: Those are wanted posters!

(yeah. Still)

---

Maleficent: *looks at Hades*

Maleficent: Baby boy. Bad Boy.

Maleficent: *looks at Fay*

Maleficent: goody two shoes

(changed it a bit lol. Also Me just randomly shipped Maleficent and Fay because gay. Just a crack ship lol)

---

Red: I got an idea!

Chloe: Does it involve breaking the law?

Red: By now don’t you think that’s a given?

Chloe: I was just trying to be optimistic.

Red: Don’t bother.

(GOTTA GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY! UwU)

---

Chloe: You're not my friend anymore.

Red: I was your friend?

(Red. You just called her your best friend a few seconds ago! She's just trying to play it cool. She's screaming on the inside.)

---

Red: Sometimes I talk to myself for no reason.

Red: Me too!

(oh no. She's mad. PSST. I HAVE THREE ACCOUNTS ON DISCORD AND ACTED LIKE TWO OF THEM WEREN'T ME. I HAD CONVERSATIONS WITH MYSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE WAS ONLINE AND I WAS BORED 😭 I was very invested in my own dramas that I created. It also started with only two accounts 🫠)

---

Queen of Hearts, to Red: You're starting to forget your Spanish. You don't practice.

Red: Lo siento. Estoy embarazada.

Queen of Hearts: You just told me you're pregnant.

Maddox: Congratulations Red, you're glowing!

(Red can speak Italian and Spanish and also has a hidden British accent. There, my new headcanon)

---

(a little surprise)

Mal, staring lovingly at Evie: I would die for you.

Evie, doing their own thing: Then perish.

(Mal, you know not to interrupt Evie while she's working)

---

Mal: As a responsible adult-

Evie: *chuckles*

Mal: … As a responsible adult—

(Eeeviee, don't do Mal dirty like that. Even if you aren't wrong)

---

Evie: What do I get?

Mal: A night of fashion, mischief, mayhem, and possible death.

Evie: Ooh, check, check, and check; not sure about that last one.

Mal: It won't be you.

Evie: I'll get my coat.

(what are they planning o~o)

---

Cinderella: What’s your greatest weakness?

Red: Interpreting the semantics of a question, but ignoring the pragmatics.

Cinderella: Could you give an example?

Red: Yes, I could.

(why does it feel relatable even tho I don't remember actually having done that)

---

Red: I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.

Chloe: Ok.

Red: Wait, why such a muted reaction? Did that not sound cool?

(Same Red, same Qvq)

---

Red, digging their grave: Long story short, this is ma grave.......Want me to make you one too?

(Omg Hunter! Is that you? ✨ love the owl house 😭😭😭. This is making me think Red fucked up a mission from her Mom. Like Hunter did.)

---

Red: I’m going to get so much done today.

Queen of Hearts: I’ll hold you to that.

*8 hours later*

Queen of Hearts: So how much did you get done?

Red: One thing.

Queen of Hearts:

Queen of Hearts: Well, that’s one more than usual.

(QvQ me TvT)

---

Mal, at Evie: You're my significant other.

Evie: Yeah I am!

Mal, at Celia: You're my child.

Celia: Yes boss.

Mal, at Uma: You're my bitch.

Uma: Yeah I am- wait, what?

Mal, at Carlos: My bestie.

Carlos: Naturally.

Mal, Jay: HA, GAY!

Jay: Fuck you.

(Jay x Gil 🤸)

---

Chloe: Wow! Celia made you cry?

Red, holding back tears: Yes, and they said some really mean things that are only partly true.

(Daaamn. She can do that tho. Wow fr)

---

*at an awards show*

Chloe: Can I carry you on my back like Mal did?

Red: I don't think Evie would like that.

Chloe: *pouts*

*Later*

Chloe: *carrying Red on their back*

Evie: What the hell??

Red: What was I supposed to do? Say no?

(Evie was panicking over Chloe's suit/dress because she made it for her. Do not ruin her designs. She will not take responsibility for what happens after that)

---

This was gonna be longer but I shall post it now anyway.

Hope you liked it.

Byeee

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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months ago

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Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: Dave loses his patience with you when studying and then feels super bad.

Prompt: friends to lovers - "oh shit, are you crying?"

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

Dave Lizewski is smart, if not sometimes a little airheaded, but he is your friend and friends make the best partners.

Or at least that's what you thought.

"Are you listening, Y/n?" Dave asks, clearly annoyed as you both sit on his bed, making some kind of art and crafts poster for your U.S history class. You've been zoning out because it's late and you haven't gotten much sleep with all the exams you've had coming up.

You nod, humming as you reach for the glue.

Dave is becoming more and more agitated. Clearly, something is bothering him. You want to ask him what it is but when he sees you begin to glue the cut-out map onto the poster, he completely freaks out.

"Woah, not there, Y/n! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why do you always mess everything up?"

Always? What does he mean by that? You stare at him, wide-eyed.

Dave just rolls his eyes and snatches the glue from your hands. "Don't look at me like that," he hisses and his sharp tone is too much for you this late.

Tears start to brim in your eyes and you look away from him, wiping them with the sleeve of his sweater—the one he'd let you borrow when starting this study session because you were cold.

Dave turns and catches your movement, his throat going dry. "Oh shit, are you crying?"

"What do you think, asshole," you snap and continue to hide your face from him.

Dave feels like he's been slapped as his previous words ring in his ears. He instantly feels like the worst person in the world as he scrambles to you, the poster forgotten.

He discards his glasses on the bedside table and rubs his eyes to wake them up a little. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispers, using the pet name to hopefully calm you down as his hands find your cheeks and he wipes away your tears. "I'm so sorry."

You huff and try and look away from him, your lip wobbling.

Dave keeps your head still and leans his forehead on yours. "I didn't mean it, of course, I didn't mean it. You don't always mess up—I'm a douche and I'm just so tired and stressed—"

"I'm also tired and stressed," you say, your voice shaking.

Dave's heart sinks as he hears the quiver in your voice. He'd been so wrapped up in his own frustration that he hadn't even considered how much pressure you were under too and how tired you had become.

Shit, he'd really just taken his stress out on the one person who least deserved it.

"I know, I know," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with immense guilt. "I'm an idiot for snapping at you."

You stay quiet, wanting to agree but also not wanting to make him feel worse. You let him hold you as he strokes your hair. "We'll figure this out together, kay?" he continues, "We'll get through these exams and this stupid project. You and me, like always."

You look up at him and although your eyes are still red and puffy, there is understanding in them. You know he's also stressed.

"Let's just take a break," Dave offers, glancing down at the half-finished poster. "We can finish this in the morning when we're not so tired. Do you wanna stay over tonight?"

You nod slowly, and the tension in the room begins to lift. Dave wraps an arm around you, pulling you in closer as you both settle back against the pillows on his bed.

The stupid project could wait—right now, what matters most to him is you.

Dave presses a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm really sorry, Y/n," he whispers again.

"I know," you answer, your voice still a bit shaky but softer now. You want to be angry with him, but your heart won't allow it and you're too tired to care. His body feels warm and you've never felt more comfortable in your life.

"Just, don't be a jerk again, okay?”

Dave tightens his arm around you, letting out a relieved breath. "Promise."

tags: @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski kick ass #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fanfiction #dave lizewski fluff #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski blurb #dave lizewski x fem!reader #kick ass #kick-ass #aaron taylor johnson kick ass #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson fic

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jamieontheroof · 7 months ago

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Random things I noticed while playing What Remains Of Edith Finch

There was a poster of the cannery that Lewis worked at on the boat.

2. Edith Jr wears what appears to be an engagement on a necklace. Whether this is her ring or her mothers is not mentioned.

3. At the start of the game, Milton's missing posters are EVERYWHERE. There is even a giant pile of them in a nearby lake.

4. The dragon slide that crushed and killed Sven is still outside.

5. As you walk toward the house, the music gets louder.

6. The swing that Calvin flew off decades ago is still looped around the branch.

7. There was a spare peep hole in the garage that didn't have any names or dates on it.

8. At multiple points throughout the game you can hear a train in the background, despite the fact that the train tracks are clearly destroyed.

9. There are multiple pots throughout the Finch house that looks like they have eyes.

10. One of the books the Finches possessed was 'King in Yellow', a book known for making anyone who read it insane.

11. The house sounds alive, or like there are people constantly moving around it.

12. Walters bedroom is painted with both ocean and train designs. One of the paintings is the old house that Odin tried to bring to America.

13. There are drag marks on the ground of Walters bedroom (most likely made when his drawers were taken out of his room.)

14. The entrance to the tunnels is hidden by a book called 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, a classic sci-fi story about a sea monster.

15. Molly's room is filled entirely with animal books.

16. There is a jelly fish on Molly's bed (possible connection to the monster??).

17. Molly has a chalkboard in her bedroom where she is a princess in an underwater castle and Sven is about to get attacked by a sea monster (slightly resembling the dragon slide).

18. As shark!Molly starts falling down the cliff, she passes a road where headlights are briefly scene.

19. When the monster gets back to Molly's room, the window that cat!Molly jumped through is still open.

20. There are still Christmas decorations in Molly's room.

21. The curse is 500 years old. That is a lot of dead people.

22. In Odin's viewfinder, it states "His [Odin's] daughter, Edie, is already dreaming of new Finch house" showing that even though her own father died not even a week ago, Edie has already moved on.

23. The house is filled head to toe with books about death, including two that Odin wrote.

24. Sven's shrine does not have a log painting like the rest of the family. His portrait is painted on a simple canvas.

25. Edie has a number of strange tapes in her room including one titled "conspiracy now".

26. The toys from Gregory's final bath are still in the bathroom.

27. There is an old bottle of alcohol in the bathroom bin.

28. A lot of Sam's photos are based on Calvin (a swing, astronauts).

29. All of Milton's drawings are based on the death. (Molly = cat, Barbara = pumpkin)

30. There are cigarettes and gin on Sam's side of the room he shared with Calvin.

31. Calvin already had bruises, Band-Aids and a cast on his leg when he died.

32. Sam blames himself for challenging Calvin.

33. In the story, Calvin doesn't fall. He keeps flying.

34. Barbara's birthday cake is still in her room.

35. Barbara is holding crutches in her portrait.

36. There are totem-esc styles statues of both Calvin and Molly

37. Barbara's outfit is over the railing.

This is the same way the Hook-Man falls

38. "Performance of her life" can also mean that it is the performance she is known for.

39. There are spare portrait logs in the basement.

40. There is a fake window in the basement.

41. Edie's grave is finished despite her dying and then nobody else going to the house.

42. There is no grave for Milton.

43. Lewis' grave has a crown on it.

44. There are times wear it seems like you can hear sobbing (this one may just be me).

45. There is a box of Kay's old stuff in Sam's bedroom.

46. Odin has a park named after him.

47. This isn't a fact but I think this may be one of the funniest photos of the game (LIKE SIR? YOUR DAUGHTER IS SOBBING!).

48. Both Calvin and Dawn are on Sam's shrine.

49. Gus has a skateboard over his name.

50. Gregory has the soap bottle from his final bath in his shrine.

51. The music cuts out when Gregory isn't moving.

52. Same also blames himself for Gregory.

53. Gus never met his step mother.

54. Gus was crushed by the (totem) statues of his deceased relatives.

55. Dawn's light switch is the only one on

56. Most of the rules are about past deaths. (No playing outside without permission : Calvin, No answering door for strangers : Barbara, No messes after dark : Molly (???)).

57. Milton's garden has a castle (reference to the Unfinished Swan)

58. There is a small Sanjay shrine in the classroom

59. Edith JR did an assignment on her family history.

60. Lewis drew on his desk.

61. There is no death date for Milton on his peephole.

62. Edith JR wrote Milton's death date as 2003 (the year he disappeared).

63. The door from the flip book is in Milton's room.

64. Lewis' dream Palace is decorated with fish.

65. The gnomes scattered around the house are outside the original house in Edie's story.

66. The credits roll in reverse order.

AND THAT'S IT!! I had a few others I thought didn't need to go in.

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bumblesimagines · 3 months ago

Text

The Deal

Request: Yes or No

Summary: When Pope needs some extra cash, he takes up the opportunity of helping others with their studies. However, things take a turn when he decides to help out a known troublemaker.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical OBX warnings, teasing over virginity, (Y/N)'s kinda an asshole, mentions/implied JJPope (should've been canon), implied bisexual JJ, Pope is bisexual and possibly ooc,

Super short but felt like doing something with sweet ole Pope

~~~

(Y/N) watched with a lazy grin as Mrs. Heyward shuffled into the room with a charcuterie board in hand, her smile big and warm and utterly welcoming as she carefully set the food down on an empty part of Pope's desk. Her son rolled his lips into his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut at her presence, his fingers rubbing into his forehead in pure embarrassment that only made (Y/N) snort quietly. Mrs. Heyward leaned back and clasped her hands together, her eyes crinkling when she faced them.

"There you go, sweetie. Eat as much as you want. You boys let me know if you need anything, 'kay?"

"Okay, Mom, thank you." Pope practically groaned, giving Mrs. Heyward a tight-lipped smile and watching her leave his bedroom while (Y/N) quietly snickered under his breath, his knuckles pressing into his lips to muffle the noise before it could reach the kind older woman's ears. Pope exhaled heavily and stood up to fully shut his door, ensuring to lock it before he returned to his bed and softly cleared his throat. "Sorry 'bout that." He muttered, swallowing down the mortification that'd filled him when his mother had strolled into the room.

"That was cute, Heyward." (Y/N) laughed, picking up a juicy apple slice and taking a bite from it, a bit of juice dripping off his bottom lip. Slowly chewing on the crunchy apple slice, he watched Pope retrieve some notebooks and flip through them until he reached his desired pages full of biology notes and some poorly drawn scribbles. He popped open the cap of his highlighter and took a peek through the pages of (Y/N)'s science notebook, unsurprisingly finding them mostly blank.

"Okay, so, uhm," Pope cleared his throat. "You know what monomers and polymers are, right?"

And right on cue, (Y/N) promptly zoned out and fully allowed his attention to shift onto the surprisingly semi-cluttered room of Pope 'Golden Boy' Heyward. He eyed the posters and drawings on the wall, some movies he recognized whilst others were characters from anime series with bulky muscled men and petite women.

(Y/N) shoved the rest of the slice into his mouth and squinted as he looked at the Polaroid pictures pinned to the wooden wall near him, recognizing a younger Pope with his parents in a few but JJ, Kiara, and John B were the subject of half of the pictures stuck around the walls of the room.

Scooting his chair closer to the wall, he felt the corners of his lips curl up into gleeful mischief when he took note of the way Pope looked at Kiara in most pictures; softened adoring eyes, a gentle smile, the look of knowing written all over JJ's smirking face in each photo. Pope liked Kiara, (Y/N) realized, and spun the swivel chair around to look at him. He'd never seen Pope flirt properly before, only ever spewing random weird facts that had chicks furrowing their brows and walking away when they got the chance.

"-dehydration synthesis is actually pretty cool if you think about it. Basically what happens is-"

"Heyward." (Y/N) purred, slowly rising from his chair and plucking another apple slice from the board. Pope's eyes darted away from his notebook to look at him questioningly, his body perking up and shoulders squaring as if awaiting (Y/N)'s question about whatever he'd spent the last few minutes blabbering about. (Y/N) popped the apple slice into his mouth and nudged the notebooks off the bed, letting them slip and fall onto the floor with soft thuds. "You're a total virgin, right?"

Pope blinked at him, his mouth flying open and then slamming shut. He visibly gulped, his adams apple bobbing and eyes flickering away to bounce around different objects in his room. "N-No, I've... I've- I've-" Pope stuttered roughly, his grip on the notebook in hand tightening and crinkling the paper. "I'm- I-"

"Wow," (Y/N) snickered, snatching the notebook from his hand and dropping it onto the floor with a soft thud. Pope's hands were forced to rest over his thighs, fingers flexing and curling into fists. "Never even kissed anyone, have you, Heyward?"

"Okay, what if I am? Virginty- Virginty is a construct."

"Sure, if it helps you sleep at night knowing even Routledge of all people has gotten laid before, it's totally a construct." (Y/N) laughed again, albeit more cruelly, and plopped down on the bed beside Pope's crossed legs with his head cocked to the side. "You can't leave high school a virgin with a face like that, Heyward. Besides, girls like guys who know what they're doing, trust me; I'm kind of an expert on this shit."

Pope grimaced. "Yeah, I've heard." He'd seen the pouty, sullen looks on the classmates he'd snatched up and then dropped once he bored of them. He'd even seen the occasional fight with a Kook when he slept with a taken rich girl. "It's- It's fine, I don't care. Peer pressuring someone to lose their virginity is something straight from an early 2000s movie."

"I'm not peer pressuring you, Heyward. I'm making fun of you." The shit-eating grin on (Y/N)'s face reminded him all too much of JJ. "But, because I am such a nice guy-"

"That's debatable."

"-I'm going to help you, Heyward." The grin grew at the bewildered look on Pope's face, his brows knitting tightly together and lips pulling into a line. Pope stared at him, his fingers rubbing into the fabric of his jeans, the contemplation clear in his eyes. "You think Kiara has time to teach someone how to please her?"

"W-What? I-I don't like Kie! She's like- I-"

"I can teach you how to kiss someone properly. I've had plenty of practice since middle school." (Y/N) pressed the bottom of his sneaker into the heel of the other, pushing until the shoe fell onto the floor before ridding himself of the other one. He dragged himself further onto the bed and arched an expectant brow at the stammering boy until Pope shut his mouth and swallowed again.

"I..." He trailed off, his eyes jumping toward the picture wall, his lips pressing together.

"Come on, you wouldn't be the first of Routledge's minions I've made out with." (Y/N) revealed and Pope's considering gaze turned into surprise as his wide eyes darted back to him. "J and I make out drunk all the time. You should try it sometime when you're wasted and bored."

Pope would've been lying if he claimed he'd never thought of kissing the chaotic Maybank. Hell, sometimes he wondered what it'd be like to kiss John B; especially on lazy days when they lounged on the boat after a swim and the setting sun warmed John B's skin, making it glitter from the droplets of water while he stared off into the distance. With JJ, the thoughts emerged more often. JJ cared little for personal space, his hand or arm somehow managing to always press against one of the Pogues, and Pope often found his space invaded by the blond. He assumed it to be natural thoughts, but he wondered if his curiosity expanded past innocence.

His skin simmered with heat, his hands curling into fists and his back straightening with determination. If JJ trusted him, so would Pope. He gave (Y/N) a firm nod and braced himself, his eyes squeezing shut and cheeks flaring with heat when (Y/N) giggled.

The bed shifted and creaked with movement, his eyes parting immediately when he felt hands grasping at his crossed legs and pulling them apart. (Y/N) hardly gave him time to question before pressing their lips together, his hand slipping toward Pope's hip and squeezing lightly; the scent of cigarette smoke clinging to (Y/N)'s clothes filling Pope's nose.

"Relax." He murmured into Pope's mouth, half-lidded eyes finally shutting and lips pressing harder against Pope.

Slowly, Pope forced himself to relax, his body slumping back against the pillow that began pressing into his back when (Y/N) pushed him into lying back. His lips felt soft, if not a bit chapped and sticky from the apple slices, and Pope felt a surge of insecurity bubble in his stomach at his blatant inexperience. His hands awkwardly fumbled around until he pressed them against (Y/N)'s sides, finding himself fully unsure of what else to do besides pressing back into his lips.

"There you go," (Y/N) cooed and the way his heart skipped a beat at the praise made Pope want to bury his face into his pillows. The top of (Y/N)'s thighs pressed into the bottom of Pope's, his knees sinking into the mattress as he began adjusting his position. He moved fully on top of him, propping his upper half up by bracing himself against his elbow. His fingers took Pope's chin and lightly squeezed. "Open."

With a face set ablaze, Pope meekly parted his lips and shut his eyes again. (Y/N) kissed him again, his lips wrapping around Pope's bottom one and teeth digging lightly into him, an action that shot heat down his spine before he mushed their lips further together. Their teeth almost clacked together as Pope weakly began mimicking (Y/N)'s movements, a muffled noise leaving him when their tongues collided and he tasted the apple juice on his tongue.

(Y/N) pulled back after a minute or two, a short string of saliva connecting them and quiet panting leaving them both. Pope's fingers dipped under the hem of (Y/N)'s shirt, carefully massaging his flesh as he attempted to ground his spinning, light-headed brain. He stared up at the ceiling of his room, chest heaving with pants and lips slick with salvia.

"Did- Did you know-" He paused to catch his breath again. "-that kissing releases a multitude of chemicals in your brain-"

"Oh, Jesus, Pope." (Y/N) dropped his head down onto the soft pillow beside Pope, his breath fanning against Pope's ear and making goosebumps rise along his arms. "If you want to nerd out, use it as a segway into kissing."

"I'm surprised you know what segway means."

"Fuck you." (Y/N) laughed, light and breathless. "I'm not dumb; school is just boring."

Pope traced the lines in the slanted wooden ceiling over them, his hands squeezing (Y/N)'s sides when an idea struck him. "Yeah? What if... what if it wasn't boring?" Pope tilted his head to look at him, their noses brushing against each other and a smile spreading across his lips. "I can teach you something about biology and in return, you can teach me something I can do to- to... to my future girlfriend, or something."

"Mm," (Y/N) grinned, a quiet chuckle leaving him. "You've got a deal, then."

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faeriekit · 6 months ago

Text

Health and Hybrids (XXII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... SOMEONE (Danny) had a PANIC ATTACK (it was warranted) and now he's laying low and trying not to move.

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

There’s a green guy in his room.

Danny keeps eating his mush. There’s mush apple in it today, for variety. It’s probably triple-pasteurized applesauce, but it’s something, and Danny’ll appreciate it while it lasts.

The green guy and the lady are talking. Danny is happy to ignore them—they’re quiet, and careful, even if they’re trying not to act too suspicious or too quiet. Danny has the sneaking suspicion that he’s supposed to be getting used to his presence. Like a cat meeting another cat, or something.

The thing is, Danny kind of remembers him—but his brain’s been so loopy and weird, it’s kind of…hard to be certain? There are some memories of pain, and some memories of stress, and…maybe he was there for one of his star-walks? Danny thinks?

His memories are all mush. Since waking up here, Danny’s been more confused the more he’s become aware.

He sticks his spoon in his mouth.

Hello, the green guy tries, flexing some oddly solid aura, but Danny’s very busily ignoring him; the television has another news segment on weather in places Danny’s never seen, and he’s trying really hard to remember what the extra letters actually sound like.

There’s, like, an ampersand in the middle of words here. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I would like to talk, the not-ghost says without speaking, which is how Danny knows he’s not human. He doesn’t feel like a ghost, per se, and Danny’s breath is normal and as warm as his body can arrange it. It’s still weird though, since he clearly wants to communicate in some way, and Danny just.

He digs his teeth into the plastic spoon. It’ll leave little tooth-shaped dents. He focuses very firmly on the television spot. There are so many towns. Some of them have very silly names. One of them is having an asteroid shower, if Danny trusts his understanding of the icons they’re using.

Asteroids are cool. There’s a couple shots of the sky and a projected time at 8pm in some time zone. Maybe he can get the fast kid to tell his medical team he wants to see them. Maybe they’ll actually let him out of his room at night to watch…?

A hand gently fans at his sleeve so that the breeze jostles the fabric just a little bit. It’s a signal Danny’s gotten used to—a non-verbal, attention-grabbing signal that doesn’t require physical touch.

Danny looks. The lady waves.

He huffs.

“Licie,” the lady asks gently, but firmly. It’s a pretty insistent Please.

Please be polite with the guests, Danny. Your father loves Vlad, so please be nice, Danny.

…Danny doesn’t quite roll his eyes but he does. Look away. He doesn’t want to talk to them. Boundaries aren’t so… Empathic beings are…

“Do I have to?” he asks, and then remembers. Right. Different language. “Ic sceal?”

“Licie. Pleese.”

Danny’s face scrunches up. All the scarring his face probably has pulls taut. “…’Kay.”

“Min þanc.” Thanks.

Danny…reluctantly…faces the green guy.

He looks. Nice. Enough. He’d look better if he wasn’t staring—if Danny couldn’t physically feel how heavy the green guy’s attention was weighing down on him, pressing into his head and shoulders and neck, and—

Danny looks away. Again. The lady sighs.

The green guy sends waves of peace, calm, which is definitely a threat! Danny’s been smacked by Nocturn more than once! He knows what safety feels like when wielded as a weapon!

Apology wafts around the room, but Danny doesn’t want to hear it. Feel it. Smell it? Whatever. It has nothing to do with him. Danny wants to fiddle with the bits of his space station and maybe practice writing his name again, which has so far been less than a success. But he should probably introduce himself soon enough.

It’s only been. You know. …Literal months.

Questions and answers/queries and information? the green guy offers to trade, which is theoretically nice. But Danny’s been hunted for answers before—and sometimes just straight up hunted for fun.

There’s no information he wants to give.

Ask me? comes instead.

…Danny’s fingers still. Wait. He’s allowed to ask?

A bubble of amusement/worry bursts. Yes. If Danny has questions, he can apparently…ask.

Okay. Danny sets the space shuttle aside. He tilts his aura around, and bends it—if the green guy were a ghost, they’d be able to share more emotions with Danny’s guard slipped downwards. He’s going to bet it works…kind of the same way for whatever he is.

Who’s the lady? Does she have a name?

There’s a bubble burst of a memory—some dude in all black with little cat ears announcing This is Wonder Woman, hand out to present her to the listener. Without her scrubs on in the memory, she looks…like a warrior.

Armored. Strong. Black hair, gold gauntlets and red boots. Firm back. Like on the television

…In her scrubs, she just looks like the same lady as always. In his head, she looks as powerful and mighty as Pandora.

Danny’s heart picks up. Breathing becomes—harder. Does she fight? Does she fight all the time?

Memories of shared battles play out from the green being’s point of view: punching and throwing and whipping her lasso in the air and confidence and freeing prisoners and the power of the gods behind her, a royal in her own right—

…Will Danny have to fight?

The green guy murmurs something sad, grief flashing up against Danny’s low emotional shields. His hands reach out—but Danny leans back. He doesn’t want to be touched. He doesn’t want to feel the dude feeling bad for him. He just wants to know; will Danny be forced to fight?

There’s a deep, painful sympathy brushing up against him. Danny recoils. The thoughts of healing, doctors, naps, coming off his meds, recovery. Of concern, worry, Wonder Woman settling the patient’s blankets, his green-marred face raw and luminescent.

Healing. Resting.

Which. Danny glares. He gets that. But what happens after? Medical care is expensive, and Danny doesn’t even have hint of an idea of how long he’s been lying here. He knows that nothing comes free.

The green guy’s expression squeezes with concern. His head might be kind of funky-shaped, but the face is pretty human equivalent. Danny would have struggled to read Frostbite’s more than his. Danny doesn’t like that.

Danny misses beings he recognizes. He wants his friends. He wants Jazz. He wants Frostbite or Wulf or…or…

…Or Mom…or Dad…

Something touches Danny’s hand. Danny looks down. The green hand that reaches for him doesn’t grab, exactly, but it lets him know that the dude is there, at his side. I’m sorry, the guy says, more sentiment than thought. And then there’s a struggle to convey the next few thoughts.

…Because the guy doesn’t have as much experience of being outside as the school bell rings, children going in. Lunches in the headquarters cafeteria. The phone in Flash’s hand turned sideways, so that Martian Manhunter can see the dead-fish kiss between Rosalinda and Romero from last night's episode—

Wait, is the guy actually an alien? It’s kind of rude, but Danny. Gawks.

The concern hanging around in the air of the room turns into green-tinged amusement. The green dude and Danny have already had this conversation.

…Danny peeks at his water bottle on the side table and sheepishly rubs his nose. Ah. Whoops. They have?

Yes, the alien continues, and pulls his hand back. But they were having a conversation. About school. And healing. And recovering, and a comfortable space to rest, and an apartment on Earth and peace and family, and—

Danny shoves his emotional shields all the way back up before he. Before he forgets. His heart is pounding. He can’t look.

He can’t.

He.

…He can’t have that again.

The green guy—the martian wants to tell Danny something else, but he can’t—he can’t open himself up to that anymore.

Danny doesn’t have a mom anymore. Danny doesn’t have a dad anymore. His sister is—gone. He’s not going to hurt himself for wanting them back. There's no family and no house and no safety.

There are more quiet, empathetic presses against Danny’s emotions, but Danny pulls the covers up as high as they’ll go, and breathes through the thin cotton sheet pressed against his face.

It catches his tears, when he has them.

Someone mutters, and someone else mutters back. When Danny feels something touch his wrist through the cotton blanket, he can’t help flinching, but the speaker’s voice is familiar enough that he settles quickly enough. Danny listens to the lady—Wonder Woman, he remembers—hum softly.

…It’s a nice hum.

She hums, and she strokes his wrist, and she doesn’t go anywhere. She’s a stalwart, soft presence at his side.

It’s nice.

It's... Relatively, it's safe.

Danny eventually stops acting like a baby, and. Takes the sheet off. He isn’t crying, so there aren’t and tears to wipe away (there’s no need to check the footage, just believe him!), but it takes him a second to get himself reoriented to the room without a giant psychic presence in it.

But the whole time, the lady just…rubs his wrist, and then his mildly obliterated (but mostly healed!) hand. And hums. And lets Danny reorient himself, at his own pace, and in a safe space.

Danny sniffles. He hopes it’s all mucus in his sinus cavity, and not, like, more ecto. But who knows?

The lady tilts her head forward, until Danny can see the blue eyes peeking over her lavender surgical mask. Her hand comes to her chest to tap against the paper-thin PPE covering her top half.

“Wonder Woman,�� the lady says, firmly and clearly. “Diana.”

…That’s a name. Danny’s nose scrunches. That's a human name. That's a very recognizable, extremely culturally familiar human name.

They never introduced themselves, right?

Maybe…well… He is in space. Maybe he’s far enough away that no one will know him if he says his name.

(Or maybe Mom won’t want him back anyway, even if she found him.)

And there’s probably a million black-haired kids named Daniel, anyway. It’s a biblical name. These people don’t even speak English or Esperanto, or anything else Danny knows; so maybe it’s. Safe?

And…maybe Danny just wants to hear his name said again.

“D…”

The lady frowns, and then eases closer. Danny—gently—tugs on a lock of her hair until she lowers, and his mouth can reach her ear.

“D’nny,” Daniel James Fenton whispers into Wonder Woman’s ear.

Diana raises herself back upright. Her eyes are wet.

“Danny,” she repeats back to him. Her callused hands gently take both of Danny’s scarred and lumpy ones. “Wel mete.”

“He believes that we are going to require his presence in combat as payment for his recovery,” J’onn reports diligently, and stuffs his trepidation deep into his countenance.

The league around him groans.

#Danny: who're you #J'onn: *deep sigh*#health and hybrids #dp x dc #danny phantom #dcu crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #tw medical #tw gore #tw body horror

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fictionalmenxyn · 3 months ago

Text

꧁𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭!꧂

Pairing: frat!rafe x sorority!reader

Warnings: language

Summary: two days after the party, you went ahead and return Rafe’s hat.

Pt.2 of ‘a party that leaves you thinking’

꧁𖥕𖥕𖥕꧂

It was two days after the party, you were busy with college work the next day, so you didn’t have a chance to drop by.

You texted your brother ‘hey is Rafe home??’ He soon replied ‘yep he’s here why??’ You replied ‘forgot I had his hat on at the party the other day lol’ he replied ‘hmmm sure u did’ and another reply ‘he’s here but we all have practice in an hour’ you replied ‘alright omw.’

And with that you pulled on your shoes and headed out of your sorority house. Walking down the sidewalk of the neighbourhood, you run your fingers over the bridge of the hat. You smile to yourself as you hold it. It was a strange feeling you had in you. You couldn’t pin point it, but this feeling was different.

You see the frat house at the end of the street. You walk over and down the front path. You went up the two steps and over to the front door. You knocked on the door and waited.

Kelce answered the door “oh hey Y/n.” You smiled “Hey, Kelce…Rafe still here??” He nodded and moved to the side. “Yeah, c’mon in..”

You walked into the familiar house, walking through the foyer you hear Kelce shout from behind you “ayo Rafe! Y/n’s here for you!” You watch as Kelce disappears into the kitchen. You look up at the top of the stairs to see Rafe, a grin to his lips. “Hey, princess, what’re you here for??”

You smiled and held up the hat “think you forgot this.” He chuckled and made his way downstairs and over to you. “Thought I forgot something, you kept it on all night… forgot I even wore it to start with.” You laugh, he smiled. You hold it out to him “here, came to return it.” He took the hat from you, fingers brushing against each other.

He smiled “so you up to anything for the rest of the day?” You shook your head “nope, free for the rest of the day.” He nodded as he fidgeted with the hat. He asked “wanna come watch us at practice then? I mean, you don’t have to… i know your dads like the coach and all..” you chuckle “sure I’ll come and watch.” He smirked and nodded “great, if you want you can hang out here till then…?”

You nodded “sure, if you don’t mind..” he quickly responded “not at all, c’mon, we can hang out in my room…” you nodded.

As you both were on the landing, you saw Kai leave his bedroom “oh looky here, so you did come over after?” You playfully roll your eyes. “I did, I’m staying till you guys have practice.” Kai smirked “oh really?? I take it Rafe is taking you to his room?” You playfully roll your eyes again and flip Kai off.

Rafe and Kai laughed, Rafe walked to the end of the hallway and opened his bedroom door. You followed behind. You’ve been in here many times. Not for long, usually just asking him if he had something that Kai needed or if he needed notes.

He gestured to the bed “make yourself at home, you’ll be here for the next forty minutes.” You smiled and walked over to the bed and sat on it. You look around his room. He doesn’t have much in it, some posters here and there. But he was more on the minimalistic side. He had his desk with school work and a computer set up. His tv and Xbox on the tv console. A small walk in closet and a en-suite.

He sat down next to you “so what do you wanna do till practice?” You shrugged “I don’t know, we could watch something??” He hummed “like what? What do you have in mind?”

After browsing through shows, you both surprisingly agreed on Chicago PD. You both laid back on his bed, his arm around your shoulder. You both sat like that for the full forty minutes.

Then he turns off the tv. He grabbed his gym back and looked over to you. He asked “ready to go?” You nodded and got off of his bed. You walk out of his room and downstairs. Heading out the door and over to his truck. He opened the passenger side for you, you thanked him.

As he drove the truck, all he wanted to do was place his hand on your thigh. Rafe had a burning need to always be touching you in some way. Even if you two were just friends.

Shortly after, you arrive at the football field. You got out of his truck. You headed over to the coaches and your dad. You smiled “hey all.” They all greeted you back. You stood with them chatting as the guys all stretched and warmed up. Sitting on the bench, you watched as your dad talked them through the first drill.

You watched them for a good while. Then they had a water break. All the guys walked over to where you sat and grabbed their gatorades and waters. You had watched each of them and analysed their movements. You saw how Rafe would throw the ball. Your sports course (and watching your brother play and dad coach) your ‘coaching hat’ had been pulled on.

You grabbed a spare football and held it in your hands as you walked over it Rafe. You called out “hey Rafe! You got a minute??” He turned to look down at you “sure what’s up?” You waved him over “wanna show you something.”

He jogged over to you, he smirked when he noticed the ball in your hand “what? Gonna coach me now?” You chuckle “exactly that… you know when you throw the ball? After games? Does your shoulder or lower back ache?” He raised an eyebrow, were you a psychic?? How did you know??

“Uhh yeah it does, why?”

You nodded “because of the way you throw it… you over use your shoulder.” You start to show him how to throw it without over exerting his shoulder. You nodded “got that?… good, now I’m gonna throw it as an example, ok?” He nodded as he stood beside you.

You call out your brother “Kai!! C’mere a sec!” He runs over “what’s up sis?” You asked “can you run out and catch the ball like usual, wanna show Rafe how he should throw…” your brother nods. You both get into position. You call out “hut!”

Kai starts to sprint down the field. As you saw him get close enough, you threw the ball. It sores through the air. The boys all watched in awe. Your dad smiled proudly.

Kai caught it perfectly, you turn to Rafe “just like that right??” He nodded, still in shock. You call out to Kai “thanks, throw the ball back!” You catch the ball that your brother throws back.

You hold the ball out to Rafe, “your turn, I’ll be the receiver. You throw me the ball, got it??” He nodded. You got into the same position your brother was at a few seconds ago. You wait for Rafe’s call. He shouted “hut!”

You started to run down that field like you were in the game. You hands out as you get closer to the end zone. You look up to see the ball coming down. You catch the ball as you enter the end zone. The boys all cheered for you both. You run over to Rafe. “How’s that?! Feel better when you throw??” He smiled and nodded “yeah, actually… how did you know all that??”

“I learnt it in my sporting course… also from my brothers playing and my father’s coaching… although I don’t do football, I sure do listen to it…”

He laughs… one of the coaches blows a whistle for the break to be over. The guys all go back to doing drills and plays.

After practice, you and some of the guys all sat on the field and chatted for a while. Rafe admired you the whole time you sat there casually talking with the guys. Some flirted and some joked. You were quick with your comebacks and remarks. Rafe watched you in awe. God he really could get used to more of your company…

꧁𖥕𖥕𖥕꧂

Feel free to ask or request anything that includes my pinned post! Have a good day/night!!

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wildfey · 3 months ago

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Thoughts on the new investigations official art as I suddenly realised I had some (also I really like it! I actually think it's one of the best of the big AA group portraits and clearly a lot of thought went into where each character is in relation to their role in the plot and to each other.)

Images are all terrible phone screenshots sorry but I'm on my lunch break at work

This is one of my fave official gumshoe images of all time. Up there with giving pearl a piggyback and fishing with Maggey. Look at them. I love them. Gumshoe and his lil puppy. Also a real cute missile. But also this is Edgeworth's game and Gumshoe is Edgeworth's friend (one of Edgeworth's closest friends - and we get to see the origins of that in aai) so it fits that we get to see the loveable gumshoe that Edgeworth sees here, right behind him, with his dog. It's adorable.

AHH my faves. First of all I just love seeing Shih-na looking very cool and mysterious whereas Lang looks cool at first glance and then you look closer and realise that his pose is actually really stupid. It's very them. And they are obviously next to each other as always - Lang in front but pushed out to the side, whereas Shih-na is behind him and slightly hidden but she's actually closer to the centre which is a nice little metaphor for their positions in the plot. She's also next to Kay which is a clever nod to what we learn in aai.

(Also maggey and lotta in the background are cute too).

No notes really just nice to see new art of team Interpol.

Okay so this is the bit I really do have thoughts on because positioning! Obviously Miles in the middle, it's his game after all. But having Gregworth and MVK in the background is just a fun choice - after all, they are literally his background! They are facing away from each other, going in opposite ways and Miles is in-between them! Just a nice bit of visual metaphor considering how much a theme of the games is his background and upbringing, and how Miles has to choose between these two opposing influences in his life and find a path between them (and both appear more in the investigations games then they do anywhere else so their size and influence is really significant here).

And finally, Fran! Only her 13 year old design is on this poster, despite the fact that she actually appears as an adult in the game more but that makes sense, this is advertising and this is a unique design for aai. But I like how she's also in the background, she's a figure from Edgeworth's past, but in a much more active pose than MVK or Gregworth are - she remains an active player in his story, unlike them. Also she's placed next to Edgeworth and MVK, which makes sense considering their relationship.

Also I genuinely do just like this design for Fran - I think one place where aai really works is its character designs which are almost universally really well done and nice to look at visually. I like that she's a horse girl and you can tell. I like that it references her trilogy outfit but with a far less adult silhouette. It's just good.

#ace attorney #ace attorney investigations #actively avoided putting spoilers in this but obviously there are some hints to the plot and themes of the games #my post #dick gumshoe #miles edgeworth #gregory edgeworth #manfred von karma #shih na #shi long lang #franziska von karma #i am actually quite hype #not even for the games though im excited about new sprites and translation #but mostly im hype for new fans #please play investigations i wont say theyre good games but theres great stuff in them

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withonly-sweetheart · 2 months ago

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Shades of Gray

Stylists and photographer; both such burdens but nothing can prepare you for the way Leon's arrival tips over your "shades of gray".

a/n: @chesue00 ... YOU LOVELY LITTLE MANIACAL GENUIS. I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH I CANT EVEN DESCRIBE IT HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE 😍😍😍

i was literally walking just walking you know i see that i have a notification from tumblr (if my slowass had checked the name i wouldve braced myself) but the post pops up

when i tell you i nearly hopped skipped and jumped like my friend gave me the weirdest look ever... like i cant tell you how much that art piece means to me its literally so hot im dying ahahhhhahhahhhh and i cant write smut for SHIT so future me revamp this when you learn the true smut writing ways....

tw: non explicit smut but just to be safe mdni!! also can u guess where the titles from.. heh

wc: 3.4k

“They might fire you with that attitude,” Ada muses quietly, humming to herself as she dusts off the camera lens, wiping it with such precision and care, something you couldn’t manage to do yourself.

You glare up at your superior from where you crouch at the legs of the tripod, scowling. “They can’t do that. I’m single handedly carrying this studio. How broke do you have to be to be both the one of the editors and the photographer?”

“Pretty broke,” she agrees with a small shrug.

“And it’s not even like the models are hot or anything,” you continue, exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to shut your mouth before you say something you might regret. “I better get a promotion after this new guy.”

“Who knows?” Ada laughs, a soft, tinkling sound that seems to ease some of your tension. Between your job(s), there hasn’t been much time to relax, but the fact you storm around the studio with set shoulders, lips twisted in a frown never seems to bother her.

You suppose you should be grateful you have such a good friend. You just wish there was something worth her time here, because you sure aren’t.

<><><><>

“Room 3,” you read from the list, craning your neck to read the words scratched into the paper that’s plastered onto the wall. “Is that where she is?”

“He,” Ada corrects. “A guy, again. Isn’t that exciting?”

She means to sound eager, but you can hear how dry her tone is, and you can’t blame her. Most of the guys that show up are only here to have a quick session, earn some cash, try to get with one of the girls working on set, before rushing away, never to be seen again.

You place a tentative hand on her shoulder, rubbing the muscle there. “I’ll deal with it. You get some rest before the shoot, ‘kay?”

Her weary eyes find you, but they light up somewhat at your suggestion. Without another word, she nods and dips her head before walking off to the lounge. Ada’s overworked, you know that. The least you can do for her is this, right?

Ignoring the fact you’ve never actually done this before, you wipe your trembling, sweaty hands on your pants before sliding the door open.

The man sitting in the chair, eyes slicing to you from the mirror, face softening into a smile as you gawk in the doorway, unable to do much more than offer fragments of a sentence.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I thought you were the director.”

“Uhm. No.” You recognize him, a man you’ve only seen in stretched out movie posters that are plastered everywhere on your apartment block, a man only seen in the vivid ink on paper, on the pixels that cross your screen.

Now he’s really sitting here, in front of you, feet carrying you to stand right behind him. What the hell were you thinking? You meet his eyes in the mirror, too abashed to look directly.

"What are you doing here?" you blurt out in surprise. "You’re an actor! This isn't exactly your scene."

"Is that how you greet a guest?" With an arched brow, he gestures to the cluttered room. "And I could say the same for you. It seems like I'm not the only one who's a little lost."

"You have no idea," you mutter.

"Ah, there it is." Leon leans back, tilting his head to stare up at you, regarding you curiously. "So what’s happening? This your therapy session?"

You glance down and flash a tentative grin. Reaching around him, you quickly wet your hands, then card them through Leon's bronzed hair, working out the tangles and smoothing it into place.

His shoulders tense when your fingertips make contact with the back of his neck, eyes narrowing down at the ground.

"Your hands..." he murmurs unexpectedly. "They're so soft."

You pause, fingers stilling to look down, only to find his eyes closed, a faint smirk playing at his lips. You smile to yourself, feeling a flutter of pride in your work. It had been a long time since you’d done this for a friend, since Ada often recoils at your touch. "Well, you know, this is kinda my thing. Taking care of models, seeing they're relaxed."

“You’re pretty good at it,” he muses.

You feel heat sear your neck and gulp, reaching for some of the confidence that abandons you quickly. "Alright pretty boy, time to get you camera-ready." Spritzing some product, you sculpt his hair into what the director had requested - “tousled but not too tousled, sexy without trying too hard.”

Whatever the hell that meant.

Your hands move fast, eager with a purpose. Under your touch, Leon seems further away, lost in thoughts. When you’re close to finishing, he lifts his head again to meet your gaze.

“I’ll assume you already know my name,” he remarks. “You’ve watched my work?”

“Kinda hard not to.” You don’t mean for it to sound so condescending, but he just squints back up at you as you massage some kind of lotion into his scalp.

“You wouldn’t, by chance, know Ada, would you?” he asks quietly.

“‘Course,” you say with a soft chuckle. “She’s the only reason I have this job.”

Leon nods understandingly. "Sounds just like her. She’s got a way of reeling people in." A wry smile plays on his lips. "So what's next - you joining in on the shoot?"

"Over my dead body," you reply hastily. Leon tilts his head, the silent question molding into acceptance as you continue, "No, I'm just playing assistant for the day, making sure Ada and the girls have what they need. Shouldn't be too hard, right?"

Somehow, looking at Leon's amused expression, you have a feeling you’ll be in for a lot more than that. But that must be the week-old guacamole you bought from Chipotle and ate for lunch today.

<><><><>

The shoot seems to be running smoothly, at least on the outside, when you’re finally done fussing over the minor details, checking off a mental list and trying really hard not to let your gaze dip a little lower than it should.

He doesn’t notice. Of course he doesn’t. He’s at least twenty years older than you. It only worked one way, didn’t it? Always did.

Next to the camera, you’ve taped reference pictures of other models artfully draped across ornate furniture, all courtesy of your work. You don’t exactly know what Leon’s advertising, but you caught a hint of the lavender rosemary liquid Helena was working on last week, so you assume it must be a fragrance shoot.

You spot Ada immediately, lounging on a chaise with one leg extended gracefully. Her emerald gaze flickers over as you approach.

"Well it's about time," she calls out, clapping her hands as she stands. "Hair and makeup, ten minutes ago."

Leon cracks a bemused smile. "We're here now, aren't we? Lead the way, assistant."

“How do you even know her?” you ask, slightly curious about their past, as you usher him into the couch.

“Acquaintances from our old job,” he mutters. And you quickly notice that something’s wrong. Leon looks too tense against the soft, relaxed background, too stressed as he frowns up at you, hands clasped between his spread legs.

So you do what you do best. You kneel in front of him, resting a hand on the ball of his knee. Once again, he steels at your touch, then relaxes, and you look up at him to see his jaw working, as if swallowing his words.

"What do you think you’re doing? Leon whispers, catching your wandering eyes.

“Just trying to help,” you say casually, with a shrug. It was safe to say you know what you’re doing, and even better, you can see it’s working. The corner of his mouth bunches up into a shit-eating grin, just the look you need.

<><><><>

Thirty minutes later, and not a single photo has pleased the director. He sits there like a goddamn statue, flickers of emotion passing his face only when spares a glimpse to the photos Ada calmly hands to him.

Her eyes are seething but her tone is level as she tells you in a low whisper, “I need some coffee or I will choke him.”

You know what that means. So, as if you’re programmed to do it, you swing by the cafe and pick up her coffee, two pumps of almond milk and light ice; the amount of times she’s sent you to fetch her drink is so absurd you’ve memorized it without meaning to.

You’re imagining the way her face will light up at the caffeinated drink chilling your hand, switching it to ease the strain on your fingers, when you turn the corner just as someone else does.

This someone else becomes only apparent to you after you’re done scolding them for not watching where they’re going, staring down at their faintly recognizable, designer brand, worn out shoes that currently have cappuccino dripping onto the material.

You drag your eyes up, ready to glare them down, when those blazing blue eyes meet yours and immediately you realize it’s all your fault, why weren’t you paying better attention to your surroundings?

Leon seems to be frozen, unable to move, as he stares down at his dripping shirt, and due to your perfect luck, the director also rounds the corner. He pushes Leon to the side, exposing the brown easily staining the white linen.

He presses a foot down on one of the stray ice cubes, crushing it and wiping his foot back. You grimace, paling at the idea of his wrath. Is this how you lose your job?

But Leon sighs patiently before he can say anything, inspecting the damage carefully. "Well, we had a good run. Not everything can go our way, hm?"

Your boss doesn’t seem to agree. He taps his foot rapidly on the tiles, a marching tempo, voice like sharpened steel. "You have exactly one minute before I find someone to replace you. Fix this, now."

Without another condition to his threat, he storms away to fume at the rest of the crew. They’ll be singing your praises for days, that's for sure. You wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out after him, sparking a rumbling chuckle from Leon. You roll your eyes and turn to him, jabbing him in the chest with your pointer finger.

“Why the hell does your shirt even matter when all you’re doing is smelling good?”

<><><><>

You quickly realize that the point of the shoot isn’t to showcase any scent. No, not at all.

The shoot starts like any other - adjusting lighting, discussing shots with the crew. But Ada's knowing smirk and the array of silky fabrics draped nearby piques your suspicion.

"Ada, tell me those aren't...?" you gesture weakly at the snug boxer briefs Leon now models, the only thing on his bare skin, miles of smooth, dewey skin, dimpled with years.

She laughs softly. "Don't pretend you're not enjoying the view. I can see it in your eyes.”

“But for the first shoot?” you whine.

“I don’t make the rules, hun. Now go powder his nose or something equally distracting."

You set to work on Leon's hair and makeup, desperately avoiding eye contact with his barely dressed form. But then he shifts, and the movement draws your gaze as his facade slips away, revealing a broad, scarred back, painted with the stories of his younger days, of memories lost to time.

Leon meets your hesitant eyes in the mirror, one brow cocked knowingly. "See something you like?"

You cough in response, flustered. "Just, uh, admiring my handiwork. You clean up well for a god, Ken- I meant, uh, an amateur model. Yeah. That’s what I said."

He chuckles, low and rich, echoing through your hollow eyes. "Whatever you say, assistant. Now, I believe we have some shots to take?"

He leaves you standing there, in a daze as you watch him saunter off, eyes fixed on a lower point of his back. It was going to be a long week keeping your eyes (and thoughts) professional.

The play of light and shadow dappling his skin, dipping into every crevice of his well-nurtured body and curving around his muscle is something you can’t keep your eyes off of.

He knows. You realize this with a sudden jolt as someone sighs nearby. He knows that everyone’s ogling, and he loves it. The arrogance only fuels his ego, you think, as a collective hush falls over you all.

And just like that, the cocky grin on his face is gone. You can at least admire how well Leon slides, almost effortlessly, into professional mode, shrugging at the director’s instructions to face the camera, to reveal sculpted plains of muscle and dusted chest hair.

Call someone to bring a water bucket, because watching him through the camera, your eyes to the world, the raw truth laid bare for you to witness, sparks flares of heat within you. You have a gut feeling that not even water can put it out.

You seek to capture the subtle shifts in expression on his face, the way his lips curve into a smile or his gaze lingers with a hint of longing. These small details, when frozen in time through the lens of your camera, seem to speak long tales of not only misery, but admiration.

And you catch exactly who they’re directed to.

Ada.

<><><><>

“What do you mean, nothing?” Leon scoffs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re pissy and this is the seventeenth time you’ve nearly pulled out my hair!”

“It’s not like there’s much left, anyways,” you snap back, equally as irritated as you yank at the strands, forcing them to separate, trying to clean the product. Against everything, you still feel the tiniest bit guilty when Leon winces.

“He’s not that old,” Ada calls out, swaying over to the cafe.

“Exactly,” Leon says, but he’s chuckling now, and he waves in greeting to her.

You can’t help but force a smile, trying to make your reaction seem genuine, your silent hatred unnoticeable. This isn’t healthy.

A man? Coming between you and your only friend in this wretched place? What are you, a teenager? But you can’t deny the disgusting, poison green envy that unspools in your stomach, catching onto the flames and turning them into toxic vapor everytime you notice his lingering eyes, her thoughtful smile, the small touches they think no one notices.

It’s hard for you not to, especially when you know he’s been teasing you all week, the bastard. You suppose you should be glad today is the second to last day of this collaboration, and that you’ll never see him after this. Pray that his movies never feature at the local theater again.

But why does he have to be so beautiful? You want to strangle the sculptor, the majestic mind that saw him in the block of hard set marble and brought him to life, all chiseled, lean body, marked with stories, the body you have to stare at with a stony expression as you click the camera. Yet the softest, most gentle touches you’ve ever felt come from him.

Soft like his fingers around your wrist as he glances up at you, evident concern in his azure gaze. "Hey, is everything okay? You seem down."

You shake your head dismissively. "It's fine. Just tired of playing assistant, I guess."

A frown twists his lips. "You know that's not all it was." His thumb rubbed gentle strokes on your skin, setting your nerves alight. "I didn't mean to lead you on if... Well, you seem so young, I didn't want to assume or make you uncomfortable."

Your breath hitches as he stares at you, awaiting your reply. Fortune favors the bold, right? In a rush of courage, you lean down to brush your lips against his stubbled cheek, just the faintest touch.

"Why don’t you come over tonight and try me?"

<><><><>

Leon’s always been depicted in shades of gray, through your camera, the filters of monochrome, white, gray and black sweeping him into dramatic stories. However many shades you have seen in him, more than fifty, you think absently.

When you met him, the glacier tilt of his glistening eyes.

When you shot him, iron gray, the set of his jaw in pondering poses.

The fog his breath on your bare skin, as exposed to him as he was once to you, ash in the scratch of his stubble that sets fire to every part of you it brushes, anchor to the peace bringing doves taking off against your shoulder where his eyelashes flutter, peppering your collarbone with cautious, restrained kisses.

He’s holding back. Right now, he’s the soft gray that washes over the hills in the early mornings, the gray of your tea as you stare out at the horizon.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, brushing wisps of hair that stick to his face away. Leon glances down at you, eyes contorted in pain.

“I-I can’t,” he chokes out. You’ve never seen him cry, but pearls well up in his icy, stormy eyes, clouds of emotion raining down his cheeks.

So you kiss the hurt away. You push him into the linen bed sheets, muse something about the coffee incident, which sparks a broken chuckle from his glorious, glorious mouth.

Eventually all sorts of things are sprouting from between those lips. You think most of them are profanities, but you’d prefer that over sobbing.

You realize that you never want to see him cry.

Never see the smoky pallor of his face.

<><><><>

You wake to the sounds of metal creaking and strange gushing sounds that you can’t identify. Slightly concerned, you pull on the blinds, letting the dawn sun wash over your tired expression as you peer down at the hotel parking lot.

“Is he…” You squint, rubbing your eyes and blinking before looking back.

Yeah, you were right the first time.

“Why are you- when did you- what?”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” The corner of his mouth crinkles into a sappy smile, barely visible from under the gleaming, spotless body of a motorcycle. “You aren’t the only one that can multitask.”

“You know you have a shoot today, right?" You rub your eyes, further taking the scene in. He’s definitely been working on the bike for some time, if the spread of tools was any sign.

He waves off your complaint with a huff. “That’s irrelevant. Besides, she matters more to me.”

“She?” You scoff.

"I know, I know." Leon wipes his hands, sliding out from beneath the vehicle with a half-sheepish, half-proud grin. "This old girl needed a tune-up, and I couldn't help myself. You know how it is."

You crouch to his level, sighing and wanting to be annoyed with his spontaneity but finding it hard in the glow of his expression, with the passion that sparkles in his eyes. "Just try not to get too grimy before call time, Leon. Ada will have both our heads."

Leon chuckles, unconcerned as always. "No worries. A quick shower and I'll be shining for the camera again." He waves off your complaint with a huff. “Besides, she matters more to me.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. "She who?"

Leon grins, running a loving hand along the motorcycle's frame. "Why, my precious Matilda, of course."

“Isn’t that your cat's name?”

“Yes… and?”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a fond smile. Only Leon would think of naming his vehicle. "Ah, now it all makes sense. I should've known no flesh and blood woman could ever compare to your one true love, your Ducati."

Leon meets your gaze with utmost sincerity, face twinged with amusement as he presses a fleeting kiss to your forehead, curling his fingers around the back of your head.

And his eyes are missing those rolling fogs.

Clear skies.

“Well, some things a man just has to do with his hands, you know?"

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fanart #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #death island #di leon #di leon x reader

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weebsinstash · 6 months ago

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I would be absolutely shocked if Hazbin Hotel ever depicted God outside of that one poster thst pretty explicitly stated he's a manipulative asshole but I'm almost absolutely positive they will never OFFICIALLY show him

BUT there is somethihg... especially tasty about the idea of like. Lucifer trying to get with his darling and he finds out FUCKING GOD HIMSELF is interfering or doing things to fuck with him JUST BECAUSE

I like learning certain things about religion from a scholarly perspective and there are several parts of the Bible where I feel like, um, they very much represent the time period and location the Bible was written during, and I feel like The Book of Job is kind of a great example of God being insanely cruel for no reason. Took a man's wife and children and said "oh no it's ok though, I'll give you new ones, forget about those old ones, these bonds of love you formed are replaceable" and caused this man absolute suffering because... he and Lucifer basically made a bet on how devout His followers were. Just an absolutely malicious, power tripping, cruel load of bullshit that never should have happened because God is supposed to be all knowing so he basically just tortured the shit out of a guy just to tell Lucifer 'I told you so'

I just picture like.... imagine Lucifer falling for Reader and you die during the attack on the Hotel by Adam and Lucifer finds out you're redeemed up in Heaven and basically has to threaten God to hand you back over. Literally threatens him that he'll come up there and take your soul back and create a big ass fucking mess while he does it unless you're returned peacefully

Or... you know the pregnancy ideas... imagine Reader is having a really difficult birth, one of those hours and hours of screaming in agony kind of births, and, everything ends up ok, you're exhausted holding your baby, Lucifer is sighing with relief, and later that night, he has a dream. There's God, sitting there cross-legged eating an apple, "so hey! Congrats on the new lady and new baby! You know, uh, at one point, she started praying to me that I could take and do whatever I wanted with her soul as long as the kid survived! Obviously I didnt take it!" And he just laughs like it's so funny and gives Lucifer This Fucking Look, "but I could have :) just behave yourselves down there with your little sinners and we can all keep getting along, kay? ^^ Heavenly Father loves you lots, k thanks byeeeeee"

I'm sure we'll have to save our "all powerful antagonistic figure" ideas for, probably Eve if everyone's theories are correct, but, there certainly is some juicy juicy drama in the concept of the very embodiments of Heaven and Hell in direct conflict all over little old you 👀

#hh #yandere hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #sinprompts #yandere stuff #i also like the idea of... what if lucifers baby was a preemie so its ALS0 very tiny fjfnfnfnnnf

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saekkas · 2 years ago

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𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐒.

includes: isagi, rin, nagi, sae, kaiser.

note: this was very much self-indulgent. comfort and a hint of melancholy.

❥ 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈– the man behind the persona;

isagi is grateful for what he’s achieved, for what he’s been given in his time with blue lock. people are cheering his name, kids wave to him every time he goes to the convenient store, people tell him they want to be like him someday.

he’s worth so much more than he started out. he's able to buy gifts for his parents without having the need to look at the price tag, sponsors are reaching out every second for his time, and his heart feels like its beating out of its shell every time he kicks a ball.

isagi’s grown into his skin, he’s become the person he wanted to be all this time.

and yet, he feels the expectations of the world on his shoulders and is slowly drowning with it. people are always staring; people are always watching. they're all waiting for the wrong move, the wrong kick, the wrong pass. most of all, people are dictating the person whom isagi yoichi is.

the egoist. blue lock's poster boy. the next best striker. the person who has it all.

isagi’s given up on counting the amount of names he has, all much more absurd than the last. no matter how many times his parents have told him to relax, to ignore the world, he’s never able to shake the odd looks coming from passer-by’s.

looks born from the image of him controlled by the world.

day ins with you are isagi’s favorite. the way he gets to curl up on your lap with your hands in his hair always has him relaxed. a complete one-eighty from the high he feels when on the field. isagi’s groan is muffled by the wind rushing through the open balcony, “the hot chocolate is going cold.”

“well good afternoon to you, mr sleepy-head,” you giggle, “did you enjoy your nap?”

his reply is another groan, this time with a nod of his head. your hands still in his head to give him room but isagi’s quick to pout as he shoves his head back onto your lap. “these days you’re more like a cat.”

your reply has isagi rolling his eyes, face popping out into view as your fingers continue threading between his strands. “you’ve even started purring in your sleep too, do my fingers feel that good?” you tease, “want me to start massaging you next, yoichi?”

isagi feels himself losing consciousness, drowsily nodding as you stretch across the couch. several moments and he would’ve fallen back asleep if it weren’t for a familiar voice coming from your screen.

“isagi yoichi?” the man on your screen chuckles lowly, “you mean blue lock’s poster boy? yeah he’s all bark and no bite. thinks he’s all high and mighty just because people are starting to know him. says a lot of shit too like he’s the one controlling the field when-”

you feel isagi stiffen before anything else. scowling and muttering curses under your breath, you’re quick to shut the tv off but the damage is done and isagi’s propping himself up from your lap into a sitting position next to you. you see the expression he wears, anger and hurt swirling in his blue eyes.

“yoichi,” you whisper, “don’t listen to them. they’re just nobodies who don’t know you.”

“yeah that’s the point isn’t it?” isagi knows it’s unfair to take his emotions out on you, someone who’s always been by his side, cheering him on. he’s quick to shut his eyes and count his breath, placating the anger shimmering under his veins.

isagi’s too lost in his own trance and he jumps when your palm encases his trembling fist. he opens his eyes to see you peering at him, a soft smile on your face as you gently place a hand on his cheek.

“it’s okay to be angry, yoichi. it’s okay to express your anger, especially when it’s justified,” you hum, a delicate reminder in every single word, “just don’t be angry for too long, ‘kay?”

“and don’t let them dictate you, the person that you are.” you’re staring at him, and isagi finds it hard to breath. you’re warm, hands tracing his cheeks before they slide down onto his neck. he watches you with lidded eyes, watches the way you place a peck on his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. “show them isagi yoichi. my yoichi. the sweetest boy with a dream he wants to achieve more than anything else.”

isagi smiles against your lips as he decides, yeah i’ll show the world who isagi yoichi really is.

❥ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍– a masterpiece born of tragedy;

itoshi rin was once a normal little boy, with big glimmering eyes and a love so big for his big brother.

if you ask the rin of today about his childhood, he'd tell you it was okay. nothing too special, just a bit boring. go to school > go to the field to watch his brother's matches > go eat ice cream with sae > come home to eat dinner and finish his homework > sleep > repeat.

outside of soccer, rin would tell anyone that his childhood was nothing like his brother's. born under the shadow of a genius, he's used to getting the second scraps. hand-me-down clothes, toys, shoes, books, everything.

and yet, rin's never told anyone about the day he had to leave his childhood. no sweet goodbye, no pat on the head, no nothing. because the day sae left their shared dream was the day rin was forced out of his.

it used to scare him, the emptiness he sees inside his eyes. the way his body only moved to a certain rhythm just to appease his own broken dream of becoming the best by his brother's side. the way anger always used to consume him until it all melted into sadness and despair.

"you're doing it again." rin's eyes leave the goal, teal orbs slowly making their way onto yours. he raises an eyebrow at the pout you're sporting, his hand instinctively coming to intertwine with your open one.

"you're looking at the ball like you're about to kill someone." you snort, one finger coming up to poke into his chin. one he swats away with an amused glare. "no wonder people are afraid of you, even with that handsome face."

you're used to the silence rin brings, never awkward, never too consuming. his mother tells you he's been this way since he was a kid and his teammates would say you're lucky to even have a nod sent your way.

but the rin you're used to, your rin has never been cold. always so warm and willing to please, even when he shows it in a different way. when his mood sours though, the way it's slowly doing right now, you know exactly how to turn in back around.

"wanna get ice cream?" you're see the way rin watches the ball, entirely focused on the match that your words go into one ear and out the other. "i'll pay."

and it's later that day, with the sky a combination of oranges and purples, and your laugh filling the air, when rin realizes you bring his childhood memories and relive them with him, hand-in-hand, and a smile etched on your face.

"hey, rin look!" the sound of cheering catches his attention, along with a goal post, patches of grass, and a whole group of kids playing soccer by the edge of the river. "c'mon let's go watch! maybe we can find a hidden genius for you to teach!"

with a tug on his hand and a mischievous smile sent his way, rin realizes that his childhood isn't as long gone as he once thought it was.

❥ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎– ambition is poison;

nagi’s never wanted anything in his life before.

he wanted to play games, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to eat snacks, sure. but before soccer, he’s never had anything that made him want to get his blood boiling and heart thumping.

keeps on hearing people says that he’s changed and they’re proud of him for it but nagi’s never really understood any of them. he’s never understood which part of him changed. he’s never understood why people are pushing more and more for it.

after beating isagi, nagi’s been more pressured by people than he has ever been in his entire life. score a genius goal, they say. win the world cup, they say. become the best striker, they say.

to nagi, everything’s slowly turning into background noise. expectation from people he doesn’t know and pressure from his teammates has him running into a slump. nagi’s becoming stressed the more he's pressured into doing more, more, more.

at the end, it translates to a lack of energy and will power to envision a new goal. every day nagi wishes to just stay in his comfort zone, pushing away ambition and all else. feels suffocated because soccer used to be so easy, so simply fun. now it's turned into a burden because of everyone else.

“not going to practice, sei?”

you aren’t surprised to find nagi in his room, headphones plugged into his pc whilst his fingers are busy on the controller on his lap. the phone call you just received plays in a loop in your head, his coach begging you to make him attend practice for the nth time today.

the moment you’re in his reach, nagi pulls you into his lap and you squeak, hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself. you don’t expect him to speak and you’re proven correct when he nuzzles his head into your chest, snowy whites contrasting your black sweater.

“you okay?” your hands are on each side of his face, palms gently cradling his chin. his eyes are downward turned, and it takes everything within you not to melt. “what’s wrong, baby?”

“don’t wanna practice,” he mumbles, pout clearly visible. “wanna stay here with you.”

“i wanna stay here with you too.” you’re carefully pushing away his bangs, revealing both his eyes as you lean down to press a kiss on his nose. “but you promised reo you’d come to practice today, remember?”

“don’t care.”

nagi’s wraps his hands securely on your waist, squeezing you into his chest. the boy goes back to tucking himself in your neck and you sigh, knowing he wouldn’t budge if you didn’t give him something in return.

“what about i come with you, hmm? you wanted to show me that awesome move you and reo did before, right?”

“tomorrow.”

“what if i give you a kiss every time you score a goal?”

it’s fifteen minutes later, and he’s two hours late into practice but as he walks with you the field, nagi thinks practice is a pain but he wouldn’t complain if he had you to push him along the way.

❥ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄– losing sleep by chasing stars;

sae had everything as a kid; talent, a loving family, a dream- things ordinary little boys could have ever hoped for. but itoshi sae wasn’t born ordinary. dubbed a genius his whole life, he dedicated his entire being into becoming the best. japan. spain. the world.

felt like his childhood was too long. too boring for a genius with bigger things on his path. too eager to carve the path to his dreams, sae left home at a young age, running and running with the support of his family and the whole world pushing at his back.

he never looked back.

sleepless nights, practice-filled days, gruelling matches. sae's gotten used to the heartburn he gets from his own schedule. he's convinced himself it's nothing compared to becoming the best.

at some point, time started slipping like sand in an hourglass. filling up too quick, burning through his fingers. and really, now all sae wants to do is rest, lay down his burdens and disappear from the world's storm.

he never will though. because to itoshi sae, resting means giving up, and giving up means saying goodbye.

enter: you. long lost childhood friend turned lover who seems to be the only person who can soothe his pains. you do your part in supporting his matches, cheering for his teams, and gently coaxing sae back into healthy patterns.

you help him sleep by rubbing random patterns onto his back and whispering support whenever sae becomes a stick in a mud. although it happens more than he would like it to, whenever sae shuts down, he's cold. tries to disappear from the world by shutting people out and pushing his body to its limits.

a ding sounds in the silence of itoshi sae's hotel room, a bright light emitting from his cellphone. sae's leaned back, head in his hands as he tries to analyze and replay the game in his head. the game he thought would have been easy, the game he misjudged, the game he lost.

another ding comes through and sae releases a harsh sigh, hands going through a flurry of motions to reach his phone before his eyes soften and his posture goes slack, the familiar stinging in his eyes a painful yet bittersweet reminder of what he's doing in spain.

angel: hi sae, i know you're probably busy

angel: but i love you and wanted you to remember that i am so proud of you. so so proud.

angel: come back soon, i miss you.

typing at his phone, sae remembers to breath, to carefully unwrap his heart from the iron grip he has on it. as his breath mellows out, a ghost of a smile appears on his lips, chuckling a bit at the silly voice-note you sent.

sae: i love you. thank you.

with you by his side, sae knows he'll grasp every star.

❥ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑– two sides of the same coin;

michael kaiser- god's chosen emperor. proclaimed playmaker who directs and acts on his own stage. on the stage, he's the perfect ruler, dominating each and every field with precise precision. something the people has learned to call as, "kaiser impact."

he thrives in it, really. lives for the applause. the way the people scream and cheer his name for everyone to hear. everyone has simply become the audience, the background character, and him the self-titled protagonist.

alas, kaiser knows it isn't real. he's deluded himself far too long to forget the echoes of the real world; how he isn't the best no matter how hard he tries to be. such is the price of fame.

kaiser remembers the warnings before he stood under the spotlight. how everything he did had to ensure perfection. the perfect act, the perfect stage. every little move calculated because he has to do what he can to secure his place in the world.

the lights are shining down onto his crown and he needs to shine bright. brighter than anyone else.

yet sometimes, kaiser feels the light is too bright. too scalding. it shines at the little imperfections, the insecurities he tries so hard to cover up. he feels his mask slowly chipping away. fragile little shards of glass falling at his feet. he hears the boos and the crown he wears suddenly feels too heavy for him to bear.

"y'know you don't have to always act like an egotistical prick, right?"

"i've been gone for a month and those are your first words to me?" kaiser is dramatic, he lives for the act. the way his mouth falls into a perfectly shaped ‘o’ while his hands come up onto his chest is the prime example of that. "i'm hurt, darling."

rolling your eyes at your boyfriend who's planted himself near the entrance of your apartment, you raise the remote to point at the tv, "you could've been nicer to ness and isagi too. you're going to play with them in the u-20 world cup soon after all."

the moment isagi's name leaves your lips, it's as if a switch has been flipped inside of kaiser. he picks his bags off the floor, quietly nudges the door closed, and pads into the kitchen without a word.

you're aware of the silence, the sudden change in his personality as you turn off the tv showing his latest match. shuffling into the kitchen, you're met with his back to you, the number 10 of his jersey still printed on his back. you watch as he picks and prods at your collection of tea, gaze so focused on the trinkets that he jumps when your arms wrap around his waist.

"hi, pretty baby." tightening your hold on him, you peck his cheek and situate your head on his shoulder. your boyfriend has always been a delight to watch, whether he's scoring on the field or cooking some meal in your kitchen. "i’ve missed you."

his little 'i missed you too' doesn't go unnoticed, and you're aware of how the tension starts bleeding off his body the longer you keep him in your embrace.

the whine he lets out at the feeling of you untangling yourself from him has you smiling, eyes crinkling at the edges as kaiser does a 180 to embrace you himself. he's warm as you murmur a muffled, "there's my clingy boyfriend," into his chest.

the first kiss pressed into the crown of your head has you looking up to him, eyes catching sight of each other. there's nothing but quiet ease, the soft lull from the aircon, and a steaming pot of water on the stove.

"i love you." you're standing on your tiptoes to reach him, pecking all the way from his forehead to his cheeks, intentionally missing his lips. "i love you so much it makes me go lightheaded sometimes."

"awww, loving me is that bad?"

there's that precious pout and tilt of his head you've been waiting for.

feigning a kiss, you cackle when he leans forward only for his lips to meet your palm. the whine kaiser lets out is music to your ears and you giggle when he snuggles into the crook of your neck.

"the worse," you tease. you feel his lips tracing their way to your collarbone and you tighten your hold on him. "but i don't think i can stop."

"why's that?" he drawls.

"if i do, who's going to stop you from being a menace all the time?" the laugh you pull from him has kaiser tingling, his heart softening, and the spotlight shining onto him not as blinding.

with you trapped in his embrace, kaiser realizes the brighter the light he emits, the darker the shadow it leaves behind. and as your fingers intertwines with his, he realizes he isn't afraid of the dark if you're there to guide him away.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #isagi yoichi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #itoshi sae x reader #michael kaiser x reader #isagi yoichi imagines #itoshi rin imagines #nagi seishiro imagines #itoshi sae imagines #michael kaiser imagines #blue lock fluff

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randomfoggytiger · 3 months ago

Text

React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Weremonster), Part III

Here we go, first comedic episode of the Revival.

…Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay…

Part I (My Struggle I) and Part II (Founder's Mutation).

Let's go!

MULDER AND SCULLY MEET THE WEREMONSTER

Why are we starting with adults huffing spray paint.

…Darin wrote two episodes with people getting high off of the strangest substances.

And that’s not a lot, but it’s odd that it happened twice.

Why do monsters always run towards the people or object or whatever they’re trying to scare or escape from? Like, what if he got surprise-shanked by two high, high school dropouts? (It’s not out of the realm of possibility.)

No self-preservation instinct, tsk tsk.

This dude’s okay, no that dude, woah that dude might not be okay.

…Random paper bag for the high man to stress-blow into.

Oh, look, a writer remembering the lore.

How quaint.

(Sidenote: Darin did not remember the lore, and kinda prided himself on not keeping up with all of it. But that won’t matter to me if he writes a good one-off.)

Mulder’s older now so he can’t stretch his neck to throw pencils at the ceiling. I guess. I suppose. I supposition. I presume.

Kumail’s in this one?

…’Kay.

“Mulder?” Yay, that’s Scully-- “What are you doing to my poster?” And that’s Gillian.

Mulder’s recounting all his failures in an upbeat, presentational way ‘cuz he’s wooing his girl. At least neither of them act like they’re on the precipice of death, that’s neato.

Oh, look, Scully can smile. Remember how she did that twice in My Struggle I? Good times.

Why’s her shirt look like it’s from Walmart?

Forgot this… pencil-scratch material was popular around the mid twenty-teens.

Can I forget it again…? …No? Do they leave it behind in Season 10?

“--Going through these cases with fresh, if not wiser eyes.” Well, I don’t know about that.

Also, is that a dig at his “wiseness” or a tongue-in-cheek joke at Mulder’s pat-on-the-back nature? (Lemme rewind.) Backpat coupled with epiphany.

“Mulder? Have you been taking your meds?”

…

….

…..

What, did they expect a laugh out of me? It just annoyed me because of the whole “Mulder’s depression” trauma I suffered for two episodes.

But at least Darin’s trying to remind us that’s an on-going issue (despite CC implying it doesn’t bother Mulder anymore in My Struggle I and Morgan?-- or Wong-- reinforcing that idea in his “bitterly healed and chakras open” Founder’s Mutation ending.)

Mulder’s a middle-aged man who just got back to the office and is wondering if anything he’s accomplished… well, if he’s accomplished anything.

A valid question in these dark times.

And by dark times, we all know what me and my chocolate-addled, My Struggle-PTSDed brain are referring to.

Mulder certainly does:

“Maybe it’s time to put away childish things-- the Sasquatches, the Mothmen, and… Jackalopes.”

Okay, well that’s rude-- I always wanted to see a jackalope case.

Mulder spent one weekend not getting a community response to his latest fanfic and let the dark thoughts take over.

All joke’s aside, this is an… it’s an okay scene. It’s weighty enough to be taken seriously, you feel for this clone of Mulder’s, you hope he gets his Mr. Incredibles act together--

Oh, wait, he already did by now.

I guess.

We skipped the traincar training montage while he was getting back into FBI ready shape.

…

.....

.......

You’re welcome.

On another aside, Skinner just pulled all the strings only for Mulder to have an identity crisis after one weirdo case.

Man’s been carrying everyone on his back for decades with no rest and his newly recruited, depressed-but-not-depressed-depending-on-the-writer, domesticated-feral-animal agent might just trounce back out of the FBI and go wall up somewhere to mope.

At least he’s not wandering off to take illegal substances to satisfy his curiosity.

No.

That’s saved for another episode.

Scully brushes over Mulder’s confession to say, “we got another case, and this one’s ALSO got a monster in it.”

And that makes him happy.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooookay.

*scribbling notes for later observation*

Darin has a favorite and that is OG Scully. And I will give it to him, she actually sounds happy for once.

ALSO, I noticed your smoker voice is gone, GILLIAN, unless you’re mumbling or using The Sad Voice ™. I noticed.

Scully’s insisting this is a monster case while Mulder mopes around the woods and says it’s a mountain lion.

…I’m NOT gonna nitpick. I’m NOT-- OKAY, so, rewind time.

Older Mulder-- as in the 90s Mulder-- would have at least been amused by Scully’s antics and followed her around for the fun of it, unless he felt used and abused, i.e. Host and Folie a Deux. Here is not the case.

Further, he was intrigued in the basement but is now kind of… dismissive.

Which is. It’s not a big problem, it doesn’t stand out, and it wouldn’t be something I’d clock except I’m very disgruntled and burned and grumpy about the past three days.

However.

Let’s continue.

Mulder’s Patriarchy Pants are making him do the Marilyn Monroe wiggle again. However, like a virus, middle-aged wedgie crotch has infected Scully, too; and the two of them are squeak-squonking ‘round the forest.

They do say marriage slowly turns you into each other.

Mulder sloughing off the naked guy in the crime scene pics as “Well, maybe he’s a nudist.”

Darin.

I know what you’re doing here.

Give Mulder the doubting identity crisis and have his faith transformed. A reverse Clyde Bruckman, if you will. I get it. But you gotta admit, "a nudist" is a pretty weak rationalization, let alone a comeback.

“That’s how I’d like to go out.” That saved it a little.

“The uniqueness of the wound, Mulder, implies a human element.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Scully, I gave up profiling before I gave up monsters.” WHAT? LAST WEEK?

YOUR CREDENTIALS AS A PROFILER GOT YOU HIRED BACK TO THE FBI--

Pause, pause, pause.

He’s probably being tongue-in-cheek. He gave up monsters this morning and profiling last night.

…If he’s not, what’s Mulder gonna do? Take up residence under Skinner’s desk? Have his bald benefactor feed him pencil shavings between meetings?

“You seen one serial killer, you seen ‘em all.” Quite literally, no.

I am.

Puzzled.

It’s not offensive-- WAIT, NO. I’m being emotionally manipulated by a softer Mulder and more upbeat Scully, youcan’ttakemealive--

“Mulder, I can see you’re going through a questioning phase of some sort--”

You don’t say.

From bar to basement. From closet to forest. From Founder’s Mutation to… Weremonster Investigation.

Scully points out they need to help the victims.

Mulder: “Okay, well when you put it that way, Scully, but mark my words--”

I’m not getting the essence of Mulder here, gang.

I got him for, like, three whiffs in My Struggle I and once at the end of Founder’s Mutation, but he’s MIA here so far.

…Perhaps my “clone Mulder” crack in a previous paragraph kinds fits.

Hmmm. If he continues to be Mulder-adjacent, I shall name him… I was gonna say ‘Charlie’, then remembered that’s Scully’s brother’s name. The CC name rot is infecting me.

The streetwalker-on-crack scene was amusing, but not really funny.

OH, MAN, JUST GOT JUMP-SCARED BY KUMAIL, OHMYWORD.

Also, that was a weird cut-- Scully opens her mouth to say something, Mulder looks at her, CUT, Kumail face.

The director was meaning to imply Mulder stopped Scully’s attempted defense with a look, but it only made it seem like one of them said something so cancellable the editors drop-kicked that bit from the final recording.

I haven’t laughed once .

Welp, Kumail ran off after playing a scared animal control officer for three seconds.

Pardon, but what was the purpose of that scene?

This kinda feels like a play: in this set piece, the hooker whacks a creature with a purse; in this set piece, Kumail gets spooked by the agents and runs off after hearing a roar; still in this set piece, Mulder whips out his phone and starts… hitting… the… picture… button.

My thought process:

It's dark at night.

2. I hear a ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR.

3. I'm pulling out my gun, not my camera.

You know why?

There are more tigers in North American than the world combined.

Just sayin’.

SCULLY, REINSTALL THE SAFETY FEATURE IN YOUR KEN, PLEASE.

JUST. PUT. THE PHONE. ON. VIDEO. MODE.

Oh, wait, he’s a tech goombus who doesn’t know how to take videos.

THEY SAW A DEAD BODY--

…

THEY SAW A DEAD BODY THROUGH HIS PHOTOS INSTEAD OF NOTICING THE CORPSE RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM?

I’m not mad because this isn’t as mean-spirited as the previous two episodes, but that’s just. That’s just.

That.

Wait, how’d they get from Mulder’s camera setting to his photo collage, without swiping or going there or…? He was taking rapid-fire pictures, Scully looks over, says, “What’s that?”, and the camera cuts to a picture that has to be in the phone’s gallery. …What happened-- you know what? Never mind.

Mulder runs off INTO THE DARK with ONLY HIS CAMERA OUT while Scully is yards behind him WITH THE GUN.

Solid decision making there.

My man, if this were a tiger (we’ve already seen it’s the horny Lizardman) or a cougar in heat (well, give Scully a few episodes), you’d probably be very dead.

I’ve named Mulder-Clone: Ken. He’s cute, he’s having an identity crisis, and he’s as dumb as a rock.

This fits unintentionally well with his Patriarchy Pants (though they’re wearing him, not of the other way around.)

Kumail’s here and they both scared each other and now they’re hyper-Ken-focusing on Ken’s wonky phone app and stuff.

Barbie-- clone Scully-- hears Ken and Kumail screaming their lungs out after getting jumped by Lizardman and only NOW notices Mulder had Marilyn Monroe shimmied off.

Imagine if this were the end of Mulders career: questioning his life’s purpose, losing the battle to technology, and T-posing, dead, on the ground.

Ken sounds completely fine when Scully runs up to him asking if he's okay. No wooziness. No nothing. (Kumail, too.)

“Okay. I quit.” Smarty Mr. K. over there (not Ken, but you knew that.)

Monster’s a-running, and Formerly-Mulder springs up and races off with Scully.

What did that jumpscare accomplish, narratively? What did any of these jumpscares accomplish, narratively?

I know we’re only 10 minutes in, but it’s feeling a little too… scene-scene-scene-scene-scene, jumpscare-jumpscare-jumpscare, phone-phone-phone-phone-phone. T-pose. That was a shakeup, I guess.

Ken was going to question the guy on the pot (who is, indeed, the Lizardman, btw) but notices Scully’s face and closes the door and walks away with her.

Strangely, that and the basement are the only scenes, thus far, where Ken was most like Mulder.

Scully, do you regret putting a battery pack in your Ken doll now?

This interaction is still Ken-not-Mulder, but Scully is kinda recognizable.

Just realized. Mulder replaced his slideshow with a phone. Now he can inflict them on his partner even in the midst of her autopsies.

No one is safe.

THERE’S A MULDER MOMENT, I ACTUALLY SMILED!

And now it’s gone.

“So now you’re saying you were attacked by a six-foot horny toad?”

“Woah, let’s keep this in the realm of natural sciences, shall we?”

Um.

That’s not a Mulder line.

That’s not even a Ken line, I don’t think.

Need to think up a new name for Mulder, I guess.

I figured it out. David’s attacking the lines too vigorously rather than letting them breathe. I’m sure he’ll get there.

Or Mulder and Scully were swallowed up by a black hole the second after they exchanged “Scratchy beard” niceties. Because that’s the last I’ve seen of them.

But honestly? Clone. Lives. Matter.

So, I shall fully support Clone Mulder and Clone Scully living their truth, expressing their lived experiences, and digging through each other’s brains like hairless capuchin monkeys dressed in skin-tight leotards.

I was gonna say “horny, hairless capuchin monkeys” but I’ve not got a LICK of sexual tension between them this whole time.

They do say married couples transition from goose-pimply “honeymoon love” to matured, knowing passion; but all I’m getting is the “knowing” and none of the “passion”.

Right after my point, the two exchanged a little upbeat moment. I’ll give it that; but the passion’s still not there.

WAIT, this episode has the fox-in-the-wall scene?

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I thought that was the doppelganger one.

‘Kay. Color me intrigued.

…WHAT is going on with these random, “comedic” scenes?

Desk clerk yells "Monster!", Mulder runs in, guy’s shaking over a bottle, makes up a story, tells Mulder to go back to his room “or I’ll kill ya.” Mulder nods and walks off.

I’m not getting the fun of this episode, but I’m only 12 minutes in. So.

Mulder’s snooping in someone else’s room.

Mulder took someone else’s meds.

Mulder found an animal head with hollow eyes that led him to a secret room behind the motel room.

Heh, get it, he’s a Fox looking through fox eyes at Scully. Get it.

I’m remembering bits from DD and GA’s commentary and how they were cheering him on in this moment. Someone should’ve told them this is Clone!Mulder.

More proof this man finds burrows in the unlikeliest places:

The manager says he installed those peeping tom hallways after 9/11, and yes that’s being used as an excuse but there’s supposed to be a joke behind it, right?

For instance: Rocky from Jose Chung’s From Outer Space took some political hits, but the jokes were funny and well-written. Here, they're either badly written or… someone’s directing these actors astray. And I know Clone!Mulder and innkeeper man are good actors because they’re doing their best selling this material. Things still feel wonky, unfortunately.

Mulder’s getting objectified again, Your Honor. He got closeted last episode, he’s “questioning” this episode, and he’s being stared at in his speedo. And he didn't mind one bit.

Innkeeper man’s got closets of his own, too. *badum tssssss*

HOW did Mulder’s phone get a picture of the Lizardman in his human form earlier? In the split-second he and Scully opened the potty stall before turning and continuing their search? I'll even grant that... but a CLEAR one?

Whatever, whatever, whatever.

Clone!Mulder’s patched his disbelief during the insomnia upgrade.

Clone!Scully unleashed a beast but still wakes up and stays up to hear him ramble. (Here’s the “my Mulder” line and the could-have-been-a-Knick’s-T-shirt moment.)

I do have another nitpick: why is Mulder diatribing here-- trying to convince Scully it’s a werewolf when she’s been saying monster or creature from the get-go? Is it the “werewolf” claim that he thinks she’ll rebut? Or?

I do like: Scully about to answer, then nearly smiling when Mulder cuts her off. Brilliant touch. Hats off to GA for that second of goodness.

“‘It defies every known law of nature’-- exactly, Scully, every known law of nature!”

Mulder, she’s agreed with this point since Herrenvolk. She kinda did a mini speech about it.

He doesn’t know how it came to be, but all he’s saying is, “it’s a MONSTER.”

She’s ready to go back to the Unremarkable House already, Mulder. She just needed you to nerd out over monsters.

Which… isn’t that actually the most Scully thing you’ve ever heard? Think about it: she wants to leave the Conspiracy behind, it’s eating her alive, she’s so sad and yadda yadda yadda. Darin says, “Hold up, this girl loves Mulder’s rants and raves” and makes her poke and prod him out of despair with a juicy creature case. And then (hopefully) reaps the benefits.

Girl’s got a mission.

And also, this doesn’t mesh at all with the Revival’s canon, but when has that stopped this crazy trainwreck?

Why’s Scully calling him watered-down-for-FOX’s-approval crazy when she’s been saying creature this whole time? Does she just… like arguing him? …That’s a stupid question, does she like arguing with him this much? …Again, that’s a--

Mulder spouts his theory, admits he stole stuff from another guy’s room, and tells Scully they can use his meds to track him down. “Well, that sounds like a good investigative plan.” In other words: “And you do so good at beach.”

Now Mulder wants to go peeping around the motel, for the lols.

Ken energy, I’m just saying.

Alsooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo not Mulder, sorry. He’d be curious, intrigued, perhaps roughishly amused by peeping tom corridors; but he’s never taken the time to search places inch-by-inch, top-to-bottom unless they directly related to the case. Is this a nitpick? Probably. But he’s flinging around broken FBI regulations left-and-right, carelessly reckless of all the rules and laws he’s breaking. Sure, Mulder’s a lawbreaker; but not to the extent that it would violate civilian rights. And even if it were fine, he’d be running off to the next lead instead of sticking around to snuffle through a useless one.

The “Lizardman stabbing himself in the mirror with green glass to break the curse, not realizing it’s him” story doesn’t… really…. Darin Morgan’s writing crackfic at this point.

Impotency jokes.

Ahhh, the middle ages: you end up questioning things about yourself or having to pop pills one way or another.

The comedy keeps failing, I think, because it’s trying too hard. This episode feels like a play (did I mention that earlier?) with dramatic pauses and etc. etc. Not really X-Filesy.

The psychologist prescribes Mulder a pill (because Mulder believes the Lizardman’s a lizard man), then pops the pill himself the second Mulder leaves… which meansssss he believed, too? Though he doesn’t?

I get he was supposed to be a crazy psychologist (ala Dr. Spiegel during the Johnny Depp trials), but, again, the comedy flopped.

“Horny toad lizard man” works at a smart phone shop OF COURSE. Because that’s soooooooooooo clever! Modernization, crises of humanity and identity, get it???

Weremonster’s not offensive, but it’s… I’m gonna be honest, it’s not clever, either.

Why does Scully wear her shirt open almost past her bra line now? Not shaming her, but that doesn’t seem a very Scully thing to do. I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking things. It was just her style, her way, her self-expression; and it feels smudged and lost in this version of Clone!Scully.

At least she seems more naturally Scully, this episode. Which means she can only be natural in the funny episodes, huh.

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Mulder has a gold car? Mulder rented a gold car? There’s a gold car here that serves as middle-age-over-compensation commentary.

Mulder chastises Scully about the danger of approaching a dangerous suspect without backup then runs off, get it, ‘cuz that’s FUNNY.

I must have a heart of coal because I’m bored instead of tickled. It’s waaaaaaay better than being angry and tired, though, so.

“I’ll take it” is giving this experience too many brownie points, so I’ll use “I’m resigned”, instead.

Here we go, the part where the Lizardman voices Darin Morgan’s gripes with work culture (and I say that because Darin himself said he only works because he has to pay the bills. Which, fair enough, I suppose.)

Wait. Did Lizo Man go from a generic British to an Australian accent?

Guy tries to stage a cop suicide by green glass at Mulder’s hands and…. I’m sorry, this is kind of a fever dream. I can’t even unpack that logic for some bizarre reason.

Let me unpack that logic for some bizarre reason:

Psychologist tells Lizardman the story about breaking the curse by getting stabbed in the appendix.

It involves the realization that the Werelizard stares at himself in the mirror and realizes he’s the monster.

Does… does that prevent him from committing suicide? The psycologist’s instructions remain murky.

Lizardman’s fed up with existence. Decides enough’s enough and goes back to the cemetery.

Mulder walks up and tries to get him to unburden himself.

Lizardman tries to bait him into cop homicide by green bottle.

…How in the world did he think that would happen.

MULDER. LOST. HIS GUN. Which is probably a wink-and-nod by Darin of the good ol’ days when Mulder lost it constantly.

This Lizard’s gotta know who Mulder is at this point, and that Mulder would track him down and find him. That’s my prediction.

Mulder agrees to kill Guy Mann. Guy Mann calls him the only nice human he’s ever met. Of course cut back to Mulder’s face as he insists Guy tell him the whole story, first.

Scully has no idea where Mulder is, does she.

I knew the psychologist’s “other client thought he was a werewolf” would play into this. Heavy-handedly.

The stupid, perfectly placed bush when Lizardman woke the next morning. I can’t even be mad at it.

He took the not-nudist’s clothes, that explains things.

The dialogue’s also kind of… juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuvenile.

Lizardman leaped over the natural order of human life by talking mad game, and Darin glosses over the details with “humans are the best at that.” Ooooooookay.

Nope, that doesn’t work for me. Not if Lizardman joined a tech shop and got promoted to manager the next day.

I feel like Darin hasn’t hung around iphone shops much.

HE COMMITTED A MURDER BECAUSE HE ATE A COW IN A HAMBURGER. Really.

Was this lizard a vegetarian????? Because animals constantly break their own eating rituals if they’re hungry (deer eating baby birds, rabbits, and even human corpses, for example.) I doubt a creature of that size and strength existed only on vegetation, especially if there were food shortages during the natural course of its life (which happens in the wild.)

But NITPICK ASIDE, he ate his first cow.

…Why didn’t he go find a head of lettuce and chow down on it? Then realize he’s missing something, eat the chicken from the salad, then go on a meat-eating binge? That would have been kinda funny.

Oh, he’s an insectivore.

So, he’s a meat eater.

And he--, uuuuuuuuuuuuugh--

Dude’s a protein eater via the carcases of other living things, not plants.

Dude didn’t have consciousness until he woke a man.

So it wouldn’t have mattered to Dude if he ate a cow, anyway, because he’s a carnivore and humans are omnivores.

So what gives?

“No one likes insects. Not even other insects.” SO INSECTS HAVE EMOTIONS, LIKES, AND PREFERENCES. YET, YOU ATE THEM. I don’t see sound reasoning for an ethical or moral stance here, Guy Mann.

Lizardman spent the rest of the day helplessly watching… porn. Just couldn’t help himself. Uh huh.

Dude, you were an animal YESTERDAY, with no association to human morays or social etiquette or guidelines or….

OH. That’s how the Scully scene plays into this.

But then that scene’ll be shot because it’s played for jokes-- males wanting to overexaggerate their knotch count-- rather than a very real reality of animals with zero morals when it comes to their procreation habits.

Let’s see if I’m right.

Guys, this would have been funnier and-- there’s that word again-- clever if Guy Mann lived like a caveman for a few days then overheard some humans talk about job, bills, and etc. spiraled, thinking he would be stuck as a half-human forever, and resigned himself to the fate of every other human (through the lens of his lizard brain, heh.)

It’s not supposed to be taken seriously, I know, but Darin always wrote plausibility into his previous scripts. This one feels like he didn’t try hard enough.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO wow.

Guy went to a "witch doctor"-- oops, “a psychologist”-- but stopped taking his prescribed meds because “it just clouded my thoughts” TO WHICH MULDER NODS IN UNDERSTANDING.

Mulder gets it because, as an Oxford educated psychologist, he could diagnose the other psychologist (who shouldn’t be prescribing meds) as a wack job.

Mulder stopped taking his meds.

Which is what Scully asked if he’d done in the intro.

Which means his depression’s gone away without his meds.

Which means his depression’s either CURED, BOOM, or he never needed meds to begin with.

Which means Scully misdiagnosed him.

And left.

OR Mulder stopped taking them and was on depression med withdrawal in the beginning of this episode, hence his melancholia…?

‘Tis a mess.

Only time to be happy as a human is to spend time in the company of a non-human-- YOU’RE AN ANIMAL. YOU’RE NOT A HUMAN. YOU JUST LOOK LIKE ONE FOR TWELVE HOURS A DAY.

Also, Daggoo. Yup. There he is. Uhuh.

Scully was robbed of her first dog by an overgrown lizard and robbed from another overgrown lizard in return.

Daggoo was let out of the motel and ran off, and Mann felt crushing loss and grief (while looking not quite that) then ran into Mulder and Smarty K and ran to the toilet and got pap shot by Mulder and etc.

(Also, he ran into the werewolf dude; and Mulder knows the urge to “strangle him and eat his flesh” when it comes to villains and their villainy.)

Hokey. That’s how I would describe this episode. Inoffensive, but new Scooby Doo.

Wait, he threw his clothes off while witnessing the werewolf man eat another man (get it, it looked like animalistic sex) then but had them on again when Mulder ripped open the stall door and took his pants-down shot.

What.

Wait, Mulder’s up-to-day with transgender procedures and terms but not? familiar with gay bars?

What, did he subscribe to a Queer Life email subscription between episodes, or is that too new-fangled?

This episode doesn’t know what angle it wants to tackle for Clone!Mulder (forgot that nickname temporarily) and instead becomes a mix of everything at different strengths (that also change depending on which scene.)

HOW did Guy Mann not recognize Mulder after Mulder took a picture of him on the port-a-potty??? And stuck around to ask him some questions???

“That was me, actually.”

“I thought I recognized you!”

So. He… diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid?

OR it was a jackalope head on the wall?

No, wait, it wasn’t a jackalope, Guy Mann just misidentified the animal head on the wall-- and he’s “creeped out” by jackalopes ever since a friend got “gored” by them and GET IT, GUYS, THIS ALL LINKS BACK TO THE BASEMENT WHEN MULDER TALKED ABOUT MOTHMEN AND JACKALOPES.

I swear, Mulder’s just trippin or suffering withdrawals from his depression meds.

Scully said, “We have a creature case,” and he went home and dreamed this all up in a slime pit of sweat.

HIS DEAD FRIEND GEORGE.

SO THESE LIZARD PEOPLE HAVE NAMES????

THEN WHY’S HIS NAME GUY MANN?????????????????????????????????????

SO, they have friends and eat insects that have some form of consciousness and consider burgers to be cow murder.

I need to stop thinking seriously about this plot.

It’s pit stink Mulder thrashing around in his bed, smiling over speedos and peeping tom tunnels and Scully affectionately calling him crazy-- and that makes the most sense, honestly.

“I think my phone isn’t working right because guy’s don’t send me pictures of their junk on it.”

More evidence that this was written not by Darin Morgan but by his middle school aged doppelganger, Marin Dorgan, who split from his body during the stress of having to write for the Revival.

“Ever since I became a human, I can’t help but lie about my sex life.” Stupid. He’d need a Twitter account, first.

Mulder’s back to doubting because the entire story’s too silly. To be fair, I do like this beat; and it does align (if you squint at it) with his journey out of depression. BUT it is all too silly, so… kinda think Clone!Mulder’s got a point.

Mulder smiling over learning that Shakespeare called us all ignorant idiots is a nice touch which I shall now spoil: how did Guy Mann know that? Porn?

“Fox, man, you’ve gotta put me out of my misery!” Get it, Fox Mann, Guy Mann? Animals, GET IT.

“You wanted to arrest me for something I didn’t do. Who takes advantage like that? I’ll tell you: a human.” That’s the only comedic bit that landed, for me, and even then it was a lip twitch. His contained righteous indignation got through whatever made the rest of this the way it is! WHOO!

The guys goes stomping off yelling “Monster!” behind him at Mulder to drive his point home, which drives Mulder to drink.

“Mulder’s the monster, get it, because he doesn’t know what he is and is just willing to use other people for his own selfish ends?” the plot says, affectionately, with a giggle behind its hand.

This is the scene where he collapses by Kim Manner’s tomb, isn’t it.

ARE YOU KIDDING, MULDER HAS HIS THEME SONG AS A RINGTONE.

MULDER’S HIGH, THAT’S IT. HE’S HIGH OR OVERDOSING ON HAPPY DRUGS, THERE’S NO OTHER EXPLANATION.

Now that I know this is Ken Mulder’s delirium, it’s going to be interesting to draw unauthorized conclusions about his Alice in Wonderland hallucination.

Aww, look, it’s Kim Manners.

Mulder’s got his Patriarchy Pants' cheeks right on Kim’s face.

Me, ten minutes into the Revival: “Maybe I’m just a fool, Scully. Maybe I always have been.”

Can’t knock that line too much because it is a Mulder thing to think or say.

And it still fits into my delirium scenario, so.

Oh, Kumail’s been turned. Didn’t see that coming. The music’s suspenseful, too. That’s cool.

There’s no way Mulder should figure this out, but he probably will.

Oh, he didn’t.

That’s good.

Also, Scully’s: “Maybe I miss having a dog. And someone to hold my grudges for me,” could apply to her tendency to own dogs but it also might refer to Mulder who she let “curse God for a while” in her stead in IWTB.

Also, where was THIS scene hiding? It’s really good.

Ken Mulder’s hobbling, not running, to his car. ‘Kay.

Wait, Kumail's not a werewolf?

And Scully's got it all handled????

Wait, NO, that makes no sense. AND IT’S ALL EXPLAINED AWAY WITH “I’M IMMORTAL.” what.

Scully went to the animal control shelter because she suspected Kumail of being the murderer.

She lingered with her back to Kumail, letting him have home court advantage.

HE SLIPPED A NOOSE AROUND HER NECK.

That’s it, she’s doneso. She’s a 5’2” woman that’s as light as a bird, there’s no way she’s topping a man, let alone one with a noose around her neck and distance on his side.

Yes, I know this was because the transgender woman surprised Guy Mann with her punch, but that doesn’t translate to a stunning twist for Scully to also have the upper hand. She doesn’t have enough meat on her bones, and nowhere near the arm length to stop her attacker.

Did Guy Mann show up and interfere? Help her out in anyway? Did the dogs rush in and tackle him until she could get up?

IS SCULLY A DOG WHISPERER????? If so, why did Daggoo bite her????????

I will say: Kumail being the murderer really changes that one scene where he was sneaking up behind Mulder.

And also… the fact that he worked for an animal shelter, since he started with small animals.

WAIT, this is a normal animal control shelter, yes? That’s what Mulder yelled into his phone, anyway.

But… there were only dogs in the room when Mulder and the officers arrived.

So. Scully is a dog whisperer, or she tackled Kumail, loosed all the dogs before he got up, and pinned him (impossible) until the cops arrived. I guess. Or the dogs were loose to begin with.

Oh, and chickens.

Dogs and chickens.

Dogs. And chickens. And goats.

(Were ALL the animals loose??????)

Scully, the farm animal whisperer. A trait she must share with her Wyoming son.

Welp. There goes that scene.

Scully approached a dangerous suspect twice without backup (says Mulder, who was Kenning it out in the cemetery with the first dangerous suspect… and the second, if you count him running off and nearly getting offed by Kumail without his knowledge); and excuses it by saying Mulder needed “quality time” with his Lizardman.

“Besides, I’m immortal.”

That sounds like the prequel to another poor decision tattooed on your back, Scully.

Mulder’s not soothed by this pronouncement (obviously), but realizes “If Guy’s story was true--” and runs off into the woods. Again.

And Scully asks the dog if he wants to go home with her.

And I question. Why a dog. Why that dog.

You miss dogs but you didn’t have a tie to any particular dog. And this dog bit you.

Because he’s Plot Relevant Dog. I see.

“Woah, I’m not a reptile! That’s racist!”

No it’s not you silly, silly reptile with utterly unexplainable human knowledge and reflection.

Also, another motif of Mulder just standing there watching another guy undress, casually.

An aspect of Darin’s writing I hadn’t considered: Mulder knows things Guy does is odd for a normal human, but also knows this is normal for Guy and just goes with it, for his sake.

Like a good psychologist. Like a decent human.

But also, he has his limits.

Also, get it, Mulder’s a man outside mankind, too, who just needs to find himself again. Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit?

“I want to believe,” Mulder says.

Mulder just needed someone to say they’re glad to have met him, they’re glad to have him in their life.

So.

I guess Scully hasn’t said those words yet.

Guy shakes his hand.

Mulder watches, stunned, as Guy runs off to hibernate for 10,000 years-- another hallmark of Marin Dorgan’s writing. Ha ha ha, a knee slapper, that one.

“Likewise,” Mulder whispers, overcome and disbelieving and renewed all in one.

A nice little heartfelt, cheesy, sincere ending.

CONCLUSION

What did I just watch?

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #Mulder and Scully Meet the Weremonster #React #A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try #Revival Reviler's first-time watch through #mine #Part III #Mulder #Scully #Revival #xfiles #x-files #the x files #first-time watch through #and there we go #xf meta #S10

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