#WHEN THINGS GOT DANGEROUS LUCAS WAS THE ONE WHO CLOCKED IT FIRST
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My Stranger Things fandom pet peeve is the way the fandom gets onto the Duffers and Netflix for discarding characters and relationships as if they don’t to the exact same thing.
The example that comes most prominently to mind is the way y’all are out here throwing Steve at every new love interest who walks by as The Most Important To Him as if this mans life doesn’t revolve around Dustin and Robin.
If Steve didn’t have somewhere to stay he wouldn’t be shacking up with Billy Hargrove or the Munsons. He’d be hiding under Robin’s bed or in Claudia Henderson’s guest room.
#stranger things salt#fandom salt#stranger things crit#and don’t even get me started on how yall are about Lucas and Max#especially Lucas#the rampant misunderstanding of every action he took in season 4 is infuriating#WHEN THINGS GOT DANGEROUS LUCAS WAS THE ONE WHO CLOCKED IT FIRST#HE PLAYED ALONG BECAUSE HE WAS ON FUCKING GROUND ZERO#FACE TO FACE WITH AN UNSTABLE JASON CARVER#WHO WAS LOOKING FOR A TARGET#HE TOOK STEPS TO GET HIMSELF SOMEWHERE#THAT HAD RESOURCES AND TOOLS HE COULD USE#AND THEN FUCKING BOOKED IT#this is not excusing the duffers being shitty btw#this is about fandom hypocrisy
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"i don't care about any of that, are you okay?"
warnings: ptsd, panic attack, mentions of violence
relationships: steve harrington/ female reader
summary: steve helps you through a panic attack episode
the soft whimpers of eleven as she crawled away from billy and the mind flayer filled your ears. his body was littered in bruises, his hands pushing against the arm of the monster. you were quick to grab eleven by her waist, pulling her away from the danger.
billy's head tilts back, one of the mind flayers vicious limbs reaching out to him and stabbing him through the chest. it was as if everything went silent for you, like you were living inside an action movie, everything moving in slow motion. billy fell to his knees with a quiet thud and you turned your head, watching as max screamed, but you couldn't hear anything. you couldn't hear anything. you couldn't smell, you couldn't taste the remnants of blood in your mouth, and you couldn't speak. maybe it was from the impact on the side of your head, blood dripping down your face or it maybe it was how your whole body shook with fear. whatever the reason, you didn't know.
your body was numb, frozen in time. you couldn't move; it was as if you were paralyzed in that moment until mike's hands land on your shoulders, shaking you and screaming for you to run.
"fuck!" you're torn out of the nightmare, the bed you're laying in being shaken by your boyfriend jolting out of bed. it takes you a minute to wake up, rubbing your eyes and looking around the bedroom until you shut off the alarm clock, reading the time as seven thirty in the morning. looking around the room, your eyes squinting from the sun peeking through the window.
"what are you doing?" you whisper from your spot on the bed, your voice hoarse from having just woken up. he's brushing his teeth in the bathroom that connects to your shared bedroom.
he spits in the sink, glaring at you. "you said you set the alarm, y/n!" you knew he didn't mean to be frustrated, just stressed from having woken up late. "i told you last night i had to be at work by seven, remember?"
"what? no, work starts at nine for you." you climb out of bed in your night gown, walking slowly to him as he explains how he told you he had a meeting early this morning. you lean up and kiss him on the cheek, rubbing his back.
he sighs, "sweet girl, you know i love you, but i don't have time to cuddle you right now." he tears away from your gaze and rushes back into the bedroom, looking for a button-down.
"okay, sorry." you shrug, you don't even remember having this conversation. "i'm gonna take a bath then." walking into the bathroom, you turn on the water, letting it warm up while you undress. lifting your night gown over your head, you discard it to the floor, along with your underwear. you set a towel on top of the toilet lid, stepping into the tub. the water is warm and nice, the tub floor shining underneath the water since you replaced it almost ten months ago now.
you and steve had changed a lot about this house since you bought it together a little over a year ago when deciding to move in together. it was definitely a fixer upper, having to replace the stained carpet in the living room first, and working on the bathroom was the second thing you two had fixed. you loved your boyfriend, but your time in the bath was your quiet time to yourself. closing your eyes, you let the warm water soothe your muscles as you sit back.
"billy, no!" max screamed, lucas holding her back with all his might. she scrambled to get to her step-brother who she had claimed to hate, hitting at lucas' arms that surrounded her, begging him to let her go.
"y/n, come on, we got to go!" mike shook you, waking you out of your coma. you look behind yourself, eleven standing in front of the monster and billy's dead body.
your eyes shoot open, taking shallow, shaky breaths. you put your hand over your chest, tucking your knees in. "oh my god," you whisper, choking on your own breath. your hands shake, gripping the sides of the bathtub. you close your eyes again and lean back into the water, letting your hair get wet.
"billy, no!"
you don't know how long you were out when steve had run into the bathroom, pulling you out from under the water. "y/n?" his voice is muffled in your ears, hands placed under your arms. he moves your hair out of your face, gently patting your cheeks to wake you up. "y/n!" your eyes finally open, your head thrown back and not having the energy to move very much. he grabs the towel you had laid out on the toilet lid and uses it to warm you up. "god, you're freezing." he notes, helping your sit up and lay the back of your head against his chest, his arms wrapped around you.
"what- wait, what happened?" you mumbled, holding the towel around yourself.
he runs a hand over your hair, smoothing it out. "i don't know. i was trying to talk to you through the door and you didn't respond, so i came in and you were down under." he explains, hugging you to his chest.
your hands shake, recalling what it was you were dreaming about. your breath shudders, your chest tightening to the point where you think it might just explode. "hey, hey." he mumbles, pressing several kisses to your head. "take a deep breath, honey. in and out with me." he inhales a long breath, waiting for you to follow before exhaling. "that's it, sweet girl. again, come on." he rubs his thumb over your cheek. "that's it, atta girl."
you look up at him, the clock on the wall reading seven thirty-eight. "baby, your meeting. you have to go, go!"
he stays in his spot on the floor, shaking his head, that look of concern sewn into his features. "i don't care about any of that, are you okay?"
you nod, "i'm okay, stevie."
"well, let's get you dressed and get some food in you, alright? get you feelin' better. you take your anxiety meds yet?" you shake your head no. "you can take them with breakfast, shouldn't be takin' meds on an empty stomach, now should ya?"
"french toast?" you inquire, holding onto his hand as he pulls you to your feet, a supporting hand on your back.
he grins, kissing the top of your head. "that's my girl."
#steve harrington one shot#steve stranger things#steve harrington#steve x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things s4#stranger things 4#stranger things#oneshots
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11 | In danger
I was made for lovin’ you
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Pairing : Eddie Munson x (they/them) Henderson! reader
Summary : Lucas joins them and they figure out Max is cursed but Nancy has figured out a plan which requires her, Robin and Y/n to visit the infamous Victor Creel for answers on how to save her.
Word count : 1.3k
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"It was here. Right here." Max pleaded, shining her light on the wall as the rest of the group stood behind her. "A grandfather clock?" Nancy asked, her tone coming off as disbelief, making y/n wince. They loved Nancy but sometimes she was intolerable to people and came across as harsh which she strongly disliked, especially the time she had shut the door on Dustin when he had offered the last few slices of pizza. "It was so real. And then, when I got closer suddenly I just...I woke up." Max said, looking at Steve, Y/n and Dustin who had witnessed her in the trance. "We...we had to shake her a couple times and called her name, but she didn't respond..." Y/n said quietly, remembering what Eddie had said about Chrissy and mirroring Max's confusion. "It was like she was in a trance or something. Exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy..." Dustin finished, the group dead silent. Max turned around to face the group, lowering her flashlight.
"That's not even the bad part..."
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"Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelley for help. Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that wouldn't go away. And then...then the nightmares, trouble sleeping - they'd wake up in a cold sweat. Then they started seeing things. Bad things, from their pasts. And these visions, they just...they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually...everything ended." Max explained, panicking slightly. "Vecna's curse." Y/n said, looking over in worry. "Chrissy's headaches started a week ago. Fred's six days ago. I've been having them for five days. I don't know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock, so...looks like I'm gonna die tomorrow." Max cried, everyone jumping as they heard a clank in the distance. "Stay here." Steve said, grabbing the lamp and walking out. Y/n scoffed and shook their head, walking out after. "He wouldn't do shit if someone was here, come on." they admitted, as everyone looked at them before agreeing and following.
Steve slowly walked forward, clutching the lamp securely in his hands. The group quietly shuffling out so he wouldn't notice. The footsteps running down the hall to them got rapidly louder. Lucas appeared, screaming at Steve which made him and the group all yell, Steve stepping back. "It's me!" Lucas yelled, putting his hands out in front of him, looking at Steve. "Lucas?" Y/n breathed out, stepping forward and pulling the boy in for a hug. "Jesus, what's wrong with you Sinclair? I could've taken you out with this lamp!" Steve shouted, earning snorts from the group. "I'm sorry! Sorry, guys, sorry." Lucas panted, trying to catch his breath. "I was...I was biking for eight miles. Give me one second, shit. We've got a code red." Lucas told them, turning to Y/n and Dustin. "I've been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they've gone like totally off the rails. They're trying to capture Eddie, and they think you guys know where he is. You're in terrible danger." he explained, hoping he remembered everything. "All right, yeah, that definitely sucks, but we've got bigger problems than Jason right now." Dustin said, looking at Max.
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"Okay, be honest, uh...you guys understand any of this?" Steve questioned, Lucas shaking his head. "Pretty straightforward." Y/n teased, Dustin agreeing as Steve looked at the pair, placing his hand on his hip. "Oh, straightforward, really?" Steve asked, biting his cheek. "what's confusing to you? So far, everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He's the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it's him." Dustin responded as if it was the simplest thing ever. "That's assuming he was cursed Henderson, which we don't even know." Steve added. Lucas shook his head, reading it again. "How can Vecna have existed in the fifties? It doesn't make sense." Steve huffed, scratching his head.
"As far as we know, Eleven didn't create the upside down. She opened a gate to it. The upside down has probably been around for thousands of years. Millions. I wouldn't be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs." Dustin said, everyone stopping him as he started going too far. "But if a gate didn't exist in the fifties, how did Vecna get through? And why now?" Lucas questioned. "How's he getting through now? And why then? Just pops out in the fifties, kills one family, and he's like, 'I'm good.', and poof, he just disappears. Just...gone? Only to return thirty years later and start killing random teens? Na, I don't buy it." Steve grumbled, shaking his head. "Straightforward, my ass. You know, honestly Henderson, a little humility now and then, it wouldn't hurt you." Steve scolded, pointing at Dustin. "Watch it Harrington." Y/n commented, glaring up at him. Steve sat down in the arm chair, looking at them. Y/n's attention turned to Max, watching her in concern. "Any idea what she's writing?" Dustin questioned, looking at his friend. "Did she sleep?" he commented, earning a slap on his arm from Y/n and a scowl. "I mean, would you?" Lucas grumbled, Nancy and Robin coming down the stairs.
"Okay, so...we have a plan!" Nancy smiled, looking at the boys and Y/n. Nancy pulled out a book, looking through it. "Thanks to Nancy's newspaper minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame, along with Y/n! I'm now Ruth, Robin is Rose, and Y/n is Riley." they said, Y/n nodding and listening. "Ruth?" Steve questioned, Nancy smiling. Dustin looked at the documents, surprised. "Nice GPA." he complimented, Nancy thanking him. "So, we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we'd like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we're co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics-" Nancy paused, being cut off by Robin. "To which they said no." Robin finished, huffing. "But we landed a three o'clock with the director, now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor." Robin told them, hopeful. "Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse, and somehow clear Eddie's name." Y/n muttered, the two nodding.
"Yeah, uh about that. We've been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh we got some questions. Lots of questions." Steve and Lucas admitted, the girls nodding. "So do we. Hopefully, Victor has the answers." Nancy reminded, handing Robin and Y/n their documents. "Wait...wait...wait a second. Uh...where's mine?" Steve asked, Nancy smiling at him.
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"Nancy, you're outta your mind if you think I'm babysitting again." Steve argued, stumbling in after her. "Okay, first of all, they're not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger, she needs people around her." Nancy responded, opening her wardrobe. "I know, but why does it always have to be me?" Steve huffed, Robin and y/n running into the room. "Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster!" Robin squealed. "You have a Tom Cruise poster." she repeated, looking at Y/n knowingly. "That's...old." Nancy defended, searching through her clothes. "Can you please not touch anything?" Nancy snapped, regretting it as she saw Robin's face and Y/n's glare.
"I can't do anything here, Nance. I... Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don't know. I could turn on my...my charm." Steve tried to persuade, not getting anywhere with it. "Not the charm we need." Nancy said, Steve wincing and looking hurt. "I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world. if we're gonna win him over, we're gonna have to convince him we are too. That like him...we are true academic scholars" Nancy finished, Y/n taking the jewellery box out of Robin's hands softly. "Academic scholar? They are giving you an academic scholar vibe? yeah." Steve huffed as she half agreed. "No, but..." she started, pulling out two slightly old, frilly and preppy outfits she had stored, with matching shoes. "...they will." she finished, grinning at the two who looked horrified.
"Oh, please, tell me you're joking."
#eddie#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#strangerthings#stranger things imagines#stranger things imagine#stranger things season 4#eddie munson x henderson!reader
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hi! can i request a one shot with polnareff x reader but he’s still stuck as the turtle but a twist like the princess and the frog? the reader kisses the turtle and he comes back to being his old (part 3) self because the reader is the one? lots of fluff plzzz? ty ;w;
A/N: Okay but this idea is so unbelievably cute?! I apologize for taking forever to get it done. I went a bit deep and overboard with the storyline on a request that is so simple and I’m pretty sure this is my longest one up to date actually BUT- it’s whatever. There’s plenty of fluff near the end, I promise. I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it too!! 🤍
(If this flops, I will be so sad omg)
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“You’re The One, My Love.” (Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader)
Warnings: mentions of drug abuse and depression
tags: gender-neutral, gender-inclusive, jean pierre polnareff x reader, turtle pol, magical, kiss, twist, slight angst, sfw, fluff
Description: One day after having to escort Polnareff as orders from your boss, you begin to grow quite fond of him. During your usual hangouts, you jokingly offer to kiss him as a way to recreate one of your favorite fairytales.
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You giggle as Jean pulls you into a kiss, you feel him smile as he holds your face gently. You’re happy to see the man you love not be as serious and hurt as he was when you first met him. Your expression reminiscent of the memories shared between you before this moment.
~A Year Before~
Your personal servant had drawn the curtains. Your eyes fluttered open, body awaken by the bright sunlight shining from your windows and murmurs outside your bedroom. You groaned in frustration as you threw a pillow at him, he managed to catch it and place it back by your bed frame. You huffed,
“Didn’t boss say I have the week off? I’m allowed to sleep in.” you stated blankly, remembering how you had the strong urge to strangle him for ruining your slumber. He shook his head as he sat by the edge of your bed and pointed at the clock that stood on top of your nightstand. You distinctly remember the screen marked 7:25AM exactly. You sighed as you thought you could’ve at least slept in by 10. You sat up and criss crossed your legs and played with the lose strings of your blanket as he replied.
“Technically you do, but today is last minute and different. Sr. Giovanna wants you to escort out a close individual he works with today by 8.”
Frustrated, you plopped your hands down onto your lap and rolled your eyes as you said back,
“Not to be bratty but...can’t he just do that himself or get one of you to do it?” you raised your pointers and middle fingers to create air quotations “This individual must be pretty important if not even the boss can take care of it.”
Your servant shut his eyes and sighed. After what you had just told him, deep down you felt bad about how much he had to deal with your bull on a daily basis- not to mention your constant grumbling in the morning whether he woke you or not. Either way, you were pretty grumpy most mornings. He shook his head again.
“It’s not that either. Sr. Giovanna could easily lead him out but he’s currently finishing business with other people in the country. Sr. Mista is with him as well so you’re the only one we have present. They both must attend all meetings, they are not to miss one.
“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer my question. What’s so important about him or her or whatever the hell they go by?”
“I’ll let you figure that out for yourself.” He said finally as he patted your bed as a way to non-verbally tell you to get ready.
You huffed when he exited the room, plopping your back down hard into the foamy mattress. You roughly grabbed at the pillow you had thrown earlier and placed it over your face, you screamed into it for a good 10 seconds.
Looking back, were you being a little too dramatic? Yes, sure- of course. It’d make anyone cringe if they were to had witnessed it though you didn’t really mind. You were still maturing anyway. You were still getting used to the life Giorno Giovanna and Guido Mista had offered and gladly given to you.
Before meeting your boss Giovanna and his right hand man Mista, you had been living life miserably at home. Though before anyone asks, no: your parents were not abusive, no: your siblings weren’t either, no: nor were your friends or teachers. You had just become very distressed with the life you were leading on. You didn’t like the person you were and were expected to become. Anxiety took over rather unexpectedly. So what did you do when you had enough? You moved on to drugs.
You were surprised to find out how easy it was for a person in their late teens to gain access towards those terrible substances. But none the less, you later learned your dealer was from the mafia known as “Passione.”
Was it dangerous for you to have figured out that information? Yes. However, you remained cautious and never told a soul...until one day you bumped into the now late capo, Bruno Bucciarati.
You were walking down your local dealing alleyway, hands in pockets and school bag still in sight. You usually dealt after school as many adults were distracted by the kids that filled up the streets. Thus making them barely notice the illegal activity going on as a large number of students would walk down alleyways as a shortcut to their home. You were swift in paying back and receiving your desired substances anyway.
All of a sudden you heard a distant call, a call out of your name. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to look at the direction from where the call was coming from, that’s when you saw him. He stood a few feet from you.
“I’m glad I was able to find you...my name is Bruno Bucciarati. Your parents sent me to look for you, they’ve mentioned to me that you’ve been coming home late from school lately.”
You only shrugged and completely ignored his claim. You began walking away but were stopped again when he said,
“Leaky eyed Luca deals with you, doesn’t he?”
You kept your gaze forward and your back turned away from Bruno. Turning your head slightly over your shoulder, you mumbled,
“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”
Without having to look at him, you knew he had tilted his head when he answered.
“That depends. If you answer honestly, no trouble will occur. I’ll remain calm with you, that is a promise.”
You blinked, sighing as you kicked at the small pebbles near your feet, staring at your shoes as you thought about what he said.
You had been dealing with Luca and you knew that his business was risky. Though you didn’t care. You felt that you needed to get the drugs you wanted pronto and Luca was the only one who would give them to you quickly. You shook your head, deciding to give up as you didn’t want anyone to notice you both speaking. You turned to face him and quietly replied,
“Yes, he deals with me. He’s the provider, I’m the receiver.”
Bruno smiled, satisfied with your answer.
He followed up with informing you that Luca had been killed at a local airport and was told to investigate his death. He didn’t provide too many details as to the cause of his death but you didn’t feel like asking anyway. Bruno admitted he came to speak to you as hours prior one of your parents really did come to speak to him about your behavior. After connecting some dots, he suspected you had something to do with Luca’s death as you were not attending school and were gone for most of the day. Not to mention, your teachers had called your parents that day as well.
Luckily, he was able to clear you out as a suspect as you cooperated with him and weren’t sweaty or completely jittery. He also gave you a little talk about using drugs. He promised he wouldn’t tell your parents that you got yourself involved in that abusive life if you promised to not buy more again.
You truly felt at the time that he was the only one who understood and cared for you in just the short time you met him. Your eyes watered as you complied with Bruno, promising to do what he suggested. A promise you have held onto forever.
After some investigating of your own, you found out that it was your future boss that killed Luca. You were rather impressed than angry that he was able to kill him. You honestly believed Luca would never be caught.
Back to the day you had to escort this individual- after some more complaining and grumpy remarks towards everyone in the household, you were finally ready to meet them. Your personal servant led you to the front door. He made sure to quietly remind you to be polite.
Your attention turned to another servant walking down the stairs towards your direction. A pillow in hand with a piece of cloth covering whatever was on top it. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, laughing as you sarcastically remarked,
“Is this some kind of joke? It’s not April, is it?”
“No, but I guess this household treating me with the upmost respect is.”
Your eyes widen. ‘Did that thing under the cloth just speak?” you asked yourself.
The servant removed the cloth and there revealed a turtle. A turtle with a key-shaped hole embedded on its shell. You almost assumed that the turtle smirked at you when he added,
“I know, don’t be too surprised. I plan to get out of this animal once my soul decides to give up. I haven’t always looked like this, ya know.”
Your mouth gaped open as to say something, but you quickly shut it as you didn’t know how to reply. He chuckled,
“Hand me over to them, we’ll talk more when we get to my destination.”
You hesitantly took the pillow from the servant’s hands and remained in shock as you walked out the door. You were careful not to drop him as you got down to the front gates. Gulping as you asked,
“So...my servant wasn’t that specific on me having to leave you in the car or actually riding with you. It’s kind of my fault as I don’t like to listen and talk in the morning...”
You nervously laughed as he looked up to you. He replied,
“It’s quite alright. I was told you have to ride with me. But don’t worry, you won’t have to stay for long. It’s only around a 10 minute ride.”
“Yeah, okay.”
You sat behind the passenger seat and placed the pillow in the middle, right next to your side.
The ride was relatively quiet, you looked out the window as you kept a fist under your chin. Your expression showed that of concern. You were too nervous to say anything. Even though he had joked back earlier, you were afraid he didn’t like you as his voice stayed stern throughout your small talk. You were afraid you had offended him in some way.
Your mood changed when the driver alerted that you had arrived. You thanked him as he opened the door for you, your hands grasped the pillow tightly so the talking turtle wouldn’t fall. You asked him with a small voice.
“Is there anywhere you’d like for me to set you?”
“Yes... put me on top of that balcony over there. I want to look at the lake.”
“Of course.”
You did as he said and sat him on the balcony. Your eyes gleamed when you caught sight of the glimmering water and greenery of the setting. You’ve always known that Italy is one of the most beautiful places in the world but at that time you had forgotten and were fascinated all over again. Like when a child sees a playground for the first time.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, you nodded.
“Yes, it really is. It’s no wonder you asked me set you on here.”
“Yes... I wanted to look at one more beautiful sight before I go. Like I said earlier, my soul is no longer fit to be here, so I might as well admire my surroundings for now.”
Your mind quickly became curious after he said that. You wanted to know more behind what he meant. You weren’t going back to that car until you got answers. So to make things easy, you started off with asking his name.
“If you don’t mind... would you like to tell me your name?”
“It’s Jean. Jean Pierre Polnareff.”
‘So he’s French.’ you remember thinking, his accent wasn’t too thick but you assumed and your assumption was right. After that, you went on to tell him your name and your experiences before meeting boss Giorno Giovanna. He shared the same with you.
You talked for so long in fact that you paid off the driver of your assigned car to go back and finish his shift early, promising them that you’ll find a ride later yourself.
You ended off the chatty night with placing Jean under a nearby bench and waving at him. You were saddened but Jean said he enjoyed your company so much that he’ll try to stay for longer and that you’re welcome to come him visit him everyday.
And so you did.
For months you came by to talk to him. You were happy to see that his soul wasn’t giving up yet- you knew you would cry if it were to one day. You had come to realize that you love him but you didn’t know if he felt the same way about you. You had only seen his face once- that was the day he decided to show you the physical embodiment of his soul.
You thought (and still think) he was so beautiful. The missing of bottom limbs and blindness in one eye did not bother you at all. His white-silver hair, style and personality is what did it for you. What it did to make you fall in love with his vanity and him. Just him. Jean himself.
~A Year Later~
It’s been a year now and as per usual, you spent half your days speaking to Jean by that same lake you were ordered to drive him to.
Boss Giovanna and Mista have noticed how fast you are in missions since then. They appreciate that you get things done but they still remain curious as to why you’re more happy and less grumpy than you were before. Though they don’t bother to ask, as they’re kind and don’t want to ruin your pure joy.
Today isn’t particularly different. All you had done earlier in the day was speak to a few citizens in town and dealt with giving details to your boss about a certain drug epidemic at a school. Nothing too out of the ordinary, a situation like this occurred at your old school too years back. Your duties were basically done once you learned information got to police.
You drive down to the park where the lake is at, smiling when you see a familiar small green circle on the balcony, looking over the glimmering waters. You park in the nearest lot and lock your car after getting out. You excitedly run over to Jean and smile when he turns his little head to greet you.
“I’m glad you’ve come again.” he says with a smile.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” you reply in a genuine tone.
You go on to talk about random topics and subjects as you always do. The conversation moving onto favorite pieces of literature and genres.
You roll your eyes in embarrassment as you tell him your most favorite one- one that is a fairytale and goes by the name of “The Frog Prince.”
“Well... it’s very fem of me but I really enjoy fairytales. Especially the ones from the Grimm brothers. My favorite is actually “The Frog Prince”
You place your elbow on the rail and use a hand to cover your burning cheek. Hoping that the redness rushing to your face won’t be noticed by Jean and that the sunset covers it up. Jean only laughs and hopes to comfort you when he says,
“Oh, that’s fine. Who cares if it’s feminine? They’re very well written stories and people shouldn’t be ashamed for what they like. I admire that your favorite genre is fairytale, you don’t hear people say that as often, you know?”
His words do comfort you and you thank him for that. He welcomes you and you feel like you’re actually looking into his sapphire eyes. The ones you fell in love with so long ago. You speak up before you’re even able to fully think.
“Say, the frog prince and the princess kissing, huh? Why don’t we kiss and see if it turns you back?”
Shit.
‘Did I really just ask that?’ you ask yourself ‘What the actual hell is wrong with you?!”
“I don’t see why not...”
“Huh?”
You’re stunned. You thought he would get offended for spurting out such a stupid thing. Of course your request won’t work- that shit is from a story book. It’s pure fiction. This is real life.
He’s a turtle now and you’re a human. You can’t and you won’t kiss him. You raise your hands up in defense.
“Hey, no! No need to play along after saying something so stupid to make me feel better. I just blurted that out I’m so sorry-“
“No, it’s okay. And I’m not playing along, I’m being serious. Go ahead. I’ve grown to like you a lot, a small kiss wouldn’t hurt.”
This answer is not what you expected. You nervously fiddle with your fingers as you look around. You sigh as you give in.
“Fine. I like you a lot too and I’ll do it. Let me just-“
You lift up the top half of Jean, his front turtle legs up in the air and his little face staring up at you. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, you slowly lean in and- kiss✨
The turtle falls out of your grasp. You stop puckering your lips and open your eyes. In a panicked state, you frantically look over the balcony and both sides of you to find him. You look forward and gasp. You grab at the railings to hold you steady.
There sits a groaning man on his knees. He rubs at his neck as he silently curses to himself, blinking fast and harshly as he tries to understand what’s going on around him. It’s dark now but the moon shines bright enough for you to get a better glimpse of him. You furrow your eyebrows as you slowly recognize who he is- Jean.
He has that same white-silver hair, sapphire eyes, big stature though the only difference is no eye glass in sight and his “legs” aren’t made out of metal.. they’re completely real. Flesh and all and you know that blood flows right through them like the rest of his body.
“J-Jean?” you whisper.
The man doesn’t hear you. All he does is groan and cross his legs in front of him. He stretches his arms and looks over any possible injuries on him.
“Jean.” you say again, louder this time.
He finally looks up at you. And there they are, those sapphire eyes you love so much. That face you’ve grown to be so fond off. His expression more than surprised. Though that expression quickly changes and softens- his eyes crease and a small smile appears. He says your name. And you tear up after he does.
He attempts to get up but his legs give up on him. You sprint to his side before he falls, letting him use your shoulders as support. He blushes.
“I’m sorry... I haven’t had real legs in years. Apparently I forgot how to use them...”
His voice is softer than before, the sternness isn’t there. He sounds younger almost. You giggle, as you use a hand to wipe at the tears of your eyes.
“Okay, I think I can stand now. Let go of me so I can look at you fully.”
You do as he says and as you watch him wobble, you reach out to help again but he shakes his head, waving your hands off as he’s able to maintain balance. You grin proudly when he does.
Jean turns to face you, he clasps your hands together and brings them up to his lips. You blush as he proceeds to hold them over his heart. He looks at you with pure love in his eyes.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. What you suggested was silly but it worked.”
“Yes, you’re welcome...” you say softly, looking down. He makes you look up again.
“You’re the one, my love. You always have been and always will be. My feelings for you started when we first met, I meant what I said. I have grown to like you a lot though it’s more than “like”- it’s love. And I’m so happy to know you feel the same way.”
You tear up at this and hug him. He hugs you back and you can’t believe that he does.
The turtle is no more and you have your true love back to human form.
He raises your chin up with his thumb and pointer, he kisses you and you kiss him back. The kiss long and meaningful.
You’re happy to know that the man you love, loves you too.
#jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo imagines#jojo x reader#jjba x reader#jjba x y/n#jjba oneshot#jjba imagines#jean pierre polnareff#polnareff x reader#part 5 polnareff#magical#kiss#sfw#slight angst#fluff#jojo fluff#jjba fluff#oneshot#gender inclusive#gender netural#frog prince#fairy tales#jojo part 5#jjba part 5#jojo part five#jojo vento aureo#jojo golden wind#jjba golden wind#golden wind
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Pull a george lucas??
yeah basically george lucas went back and edited the star war films. you can't get a copy of star wars nowa days without those edits -so even if you prefer the original unedited versions, you're out of luck.
famously, he lazily edited the scene where Han shoots first against the alien at the bar. they just... added a bolt of a gun in the shot and tried to make it look like he turned away. fans are STILL pissed at this, because 1) its a shoddy edit that looks bad 2) wasn't needed or wanted 3) goes against Han's characterization to act when he realizes he's in danger. it's a character defining movement. This guy ain't scared to shoot first.
just look at that. it looks so frickin bad. no wonder fans are still pissed. i'm not a fan of star wars (i like the original trilogy in a causal way at most) and i'm pissed on their behalf.
you can get around it by getting old vhs videos or i would think it's online somewhere, (lol go pirates) i'm not really a star wars fan so IDK. as far as i'm aware there's no legally produced copies of star wars that don't have the new edits.
anyway i'm really against the idea of changing art and gatekeeping the previous version because it doesn't suit the director's current ideals. like, yeah I want to remove mishandling and errors and old art grossness from AFR. If I had it my way, I'd erase the old version from everyone's minds and have the new one be perfect and already created. but life don't work like that.
i'm sure even though i'll find AFR rewrite to be the best version ever, there will still be people who find the old version more nostalgic or simpler or better in whatever regard they prefer. i'm not taking that away from them -they have a right to my art! i made it and it exists out of my hands! people own it now in their memories and emotions. i could never -nor would I want to, control that.
and to be clear, i do think smaller edits soon after the fact aren't the same as the above. editing out grammar, adding small details ect. are fine. i'm super on board with toby adding small updates to undertale and we got details like Don't Forget and the dog food bag patched in
there's a scale to this though, i'm sure you can debate on if it's ultimately a good thing that toby is making a sequel with deltarune (though, that's a bit easier for this discussion because its in a different universe) and to a greater extent, the alarm clock update. Which seems to be canon and set post pacifist. (and the clock is put on hold, not cancelled btw. we will someday get more of it)
i think its a cool topic to think about. what does it mean to be engaging with art that the creator has the chance to change or recontextualize? what death of the author philosophy? does that turn to death to the edit? death to the sequels as well? things to consider, things i can't answer for ya.
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missing from here, missing from me
Fic title: missing from here, missing from me
word count: 3347
summary: Alberto goes missing. Luca manages as best he can, which is not very well at all. Alberto/Luca, Luca and Giulia as close friends, and some dad!Massimo angst in the background.
warnings: angst with a happy ending, crying, tension in friendships and family dynamics at times, missing person, mentions of/allusions to experimentation, reckless decision making. Please let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: First time writing for Luca and it’s an absolute angst fest. Would love to know what you think! Played with structure and style here too, so I hope you enjoy it! <3
--
Luca knows before Giulia’s mother has hung up the phone that something is very wrong. Alberto is the first thought in his head, and it’s the one that does not let go.
He stands up so fast that he knocks back the chair he’d been sitting in as Giulia’s mother gasps. It clatters against the wooden floor and he should probably pick it up but his feet are rooted to the ground and his hands cannot let go of the edge of the table. Giulia says something, but she sounds like she’s in a faraway tunnel. Her touch on his arm is the only thing that keeps Luca from bolting out the door.
Giulia’s mother says little. “How long ago?” she asks into the reciever, followed by a “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Luca’s stomach has a lead weight as Giulia’s mother turns brown eyes onto her daughter, and then to Luca.
“It’s Alberto,” she confirms. “He’s missing.”
--
The train ride is long. The Italian countryside passes by in a rush of greens and blues and grays. Luca looks out the window and thinks that it would be more beautiful if he was on a Vespa, with Alberto’s chest vibrating beneath his arms as he shouts with eurphoria.
Missing.
Alberto has been missing for 13 hours and Luca feels like there’s a part of him that’s missing too.
--
His own mother and father, in their human forms, are there at the Marcovaldos’ place when Luca opens the door. Giulia runs straight into her father’s embrace, pressing her tear-stained face to his broad shoulders. His rumbling voice offers words of reassurance that Luca doesn’t hear.
Luca stands in the doorway and feels lost.
His mother takes a step towards him, says his name. Luca cannot bring himself to move.
“Where is Alberto?”
--
The police had already come, Giulia’s father explains as the adults drink coffee and Giulia drinks water and Luca tries not to throw up. What if he’s dead? Luca thinks and then immediately: Silenzio, Bruno.
There’s a crease between Signor Marcovaldo’s thick brows and a hunch to his shoulders. He is gripping his mug of coffee so tightly Luca wonders briefly it if might break apart in his hand.
“We’ll find him,” Luca’s father says. Luca opens his mouth to respond when he realizes that his father is looking at Signor Marcovaldo. That the words of reassurance were not meant for his son, but for the other father in the room.
Giulia’s dad sets his cup on the table in front of him and walks out of the room without responding. Luca sees the way he about to slam the door before he stops it, and closes it softly.
--
His parents offer to take him home. Luca uses as few words as possible to explain that he would rather stay here. In case there’s news. Luca expects a fight that is parents don’t give him.
His mother hugs him extra long before they leave. Luca returns it, if only because he knows it will help his mom feel better.
They promise to come back in the morning. Luca nods. He bites his tongue from asking them to stay, too. What if they disappear like Alberto?
--
Giulia is quiet that night. Luca sleeps out on the hideout and tries not to feel like the weight of Alberto’s absence will send him tumbling through the floor and crashing to the ground. Giulia leaves the window open and for that, Luca is grateful.
“Luca?”
“Hm?”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
“Do you think Alberto… ran away?”
“No.”
“I’m scared for him.”
Luca knows that he should offer some words of reassurance. That’s what friends do. But he cannot speak past the hardening lump in his throat and he stares at the lights above him that Alberto once insisted were anchovies and can feel his chest pulse with an ache he cannot name.
Alberto was always the one to quiet the fear inside of him. Silenzio, Bruno, Luca thinks fiercely, and swallows when he realizes that voice sounds an awful lot like Alberto.
--
Luca smooths his hand over the poster to adhere it to the wall. His hand does not linger no matter how much he wants it to. Neither does his gaze. If he does either for too long, he will begin to cry.
“C’mon,” Luca tells Giulia when he can feel her worried stare boring into the side of his face. “We have more posters to hang up.”
“Hey,” she says, putting her hand on his shoulder.
He shrugs out from under her grip. “I’m fine.”
He knows that he is a terrible liar. He knows that Giulia can read him better than anyone. He waits for Giulia to call him out on it, unsure of what he will say in response.
She says nothing. She can, after all, read him better than anyone. So she hands him the next poster, and they get back to work.
--
I’m gonna fix this. That was his promise to Alberto a year ago. He wants that to be his promise now. He wants to say it—wants to scream it—wants it to be true.
Luca doesn’t know if he can. He thinks of the clock at the bottom of the ocean and wonders if it is still counting the seconds. Luca is.
He makes it to noon before he cries.
--
Signor Marcovaldo starts to make Trenette al Pesto and stops halfway through. Luca watches from the dining room table as his parents and Giulia’s mother have a hushed conversation in the next room over. Signor Marcovaldo’s hand wavers as he reaches for the garlic cloves, then drops to his side.
“Perhaps we should… order something instead,” he says.
“Papa—”
He leaves. Giulia sighs. When she starts chopping the garlic, Luca busies himself by draining the pasta. He pretends he doesn’t see Giulia wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her striped shirt, and he decides to return her watery smile.
--
“Maybe he ran away,” the police say the next day. Early afternoon sun filters through the open windows, the salty ocean air tickling Luca’s nose.
“He didn’t,” Luca interrupts. He has spent most of his life not knowing things, but he knows this. Alberto didn’t run away.
“Sweetheart,” his mom begins, and Luca’s stomach rolls. He steps back when she reaches for him.
“He didn’t.”
“I know he’s your friend, kid,” one of the officers tells him, “but we found plans and maps at that island you said he used to spend his free time at.”
“That’s different,” Luca says, his throat tightening. “That was before. He wouldn’t run away! The life he has here is important to him. I know it.”
“Luca—”
“No! I know Alberto! He didn’t just run away.” Luca can feel his heartbeat pounding in against his ribs, like it wants to break free of his confines of his chest. As desperate to reach Alberto as the rest of him is. Luca’s eyes flit over the room to settle squarely on Signor Marcovaldo, who stands in the corner and stares at the floor.
“He wouldn’t abandon the people he loves,” Luca insists.
Signor Marcovaldo’s gaze rises and steadfastly meet’s Luca’s own. “And we won’t abandon him.”
--
“You’re going to collapse if you keep going like this,” Giulia tells him quietly the afternoon of the following day, in the middle of the town square. Luca can feel the rain against his scales and dripping off his fins.
“I’m fine.”
“Luca, you’re not yourself—”
“What do you want from me, Guilia?” Luca snaps. “I’m trying to find Alberto, and I don’t know where to look, and I don’t know who took him or why and I can’t sleep at night because I don’t know that he’s safe and I never got to tell him—”
Luca’s voice fails him when Guilia grabs him and pulls him into a hug. She doesn’t let go for a long time. And when she feels Luca’s shoulders jerk with an aborted sob, she just squeezes tighter.
--
Luca sleeps for a few hours the third night. He wakes up when the door opens and Signor Marcovaldo’s broad frame is silhouetted against the light form inside the house. He is wearing his hat and has a lamp in his hand. Luca slides down the ladder and calls out to him.
“Luca. You should be asleep.”
“Are you going to look for Alberto?”
There’s a beat, and Luca wonders if he’s going to lie to him. “Yes.”
“I want to come with you.”
“It is late—”
“Please, Signor.”
Luca looks up at him. He can sense, more than see, the way Signor Marcovaldo looks at him. Close and studying, as if trying to parcel something out. Whatever it is, he seems to find it, as he looks in the direction of the town, and then back.
“Alberto cares very much for you, Luca.”
Luca’s heart stutters a little. His lungs squeeze. “And I for him, sir.”
A heavy hand lands in his hair and ruffles it. “I know. Come. Walk with me.”
--
Luca had learned much in his year at school. He learned about stars, and spelling, and addition.
He did not learn how to deal with this.
He did not learn how to count the hours when the days bleed into sleepless nights and time itself starts to lose meaning. He did not learn how to stop counting the minutes, as if counting to sixty a million times will stave off the way his vision blurs on the edges if he stands in one place for too long.
Luca throws a tarp over the rusting Vespa and wishes that the hole in his heart could be covered as easily.
--
When Luca becomes too exhausted, he sleeps. When he sleeps, he dreams of Alberto.
The dreams are a patchwork quilt in memories. Alberto’s sun-warmed shoulder brushing against Luca’s, the teasing quirk of his eyebrow, the stretch of his spine when he planned to put himself firmly in the way of danger. Then the echo of take me, gravity as he disappears down the edge of a cliff to dive into the water below.
Luca follows, every time.
Alberto disappears.
Every.
Time.
--
Luca stares at the anchovies (stars, he knows, hot balls of gas lightyears away from here but Alberto is not here and Luca wants to hold on to the parts of Alberto that he can with both hands) when he hears the phone ring.
Signor Marcovaldo picks up on the first ring. Luca realizes he must have been waiting. He wonders how many nights he spent at the kitchen table, also unable to sleep. Luca glances at the still-open window to Giulia’s room, sees her light immediately click on, and wonders if maybe nobody in this house has slept since Alberto went missing.
Luca sits up when he hears Signor Marcovaldo knock on her door.
--
They have a lead. Signor Marcovaldo sits on the edge of Giulia’s bed. Looks at Luca through the window. Found some fabric that matched his shirt a few miles north.
Luca slides down the ladder to the ground so fast he feels his palms rubbed raw from the rope burn.
Luca tears the tarp off the Vespa and kicks it into gear. He hears his name being called from the house, the thundering of footsteps down the stairs after him.
“Wait!” Signor Marcovaldo calls to him, but all Luca has done for the past week is wait.
He feels a sudden weight on the back of the Vespa and sees Giulia yanking on a helmet.
“Go!” she shouts in his ear.
He turns the Vespa north and goes as fast as he can.
--
Luca races the moon. Portorosso gives way to a tree line, thick with the scent of dew and dirt. He thinks he can feel Giulia’s hands shaking around him, but he does not know if that is the thrum of the Vespa beneath them or if her anxiety is an echo of his own.
All he knows is that Alberto is north. So that’s where Luca wants to be.
--
“STOP!”
Luca sees it at the same time Giulia does and brings the Vespa to a lurching halt against the dirt trail they had been following. Giulia tightens her grip on Luca to keep them both from careening off the vehicle.
Luca blinks at the figure in the road, clearing the spray of dust from his eyes.
The moonlight filters weakly through the leaves of the canopy above them. Luca can barely see, but the headlight from the Vespa offers enough of a glow to make out the form that stands on the path. Just far enough away from the light to be a shadow in the darkness.
Luca tentatively climbs off the Vespa and takes a step forward. It has been over a year, but Luca has seen that same silhouette in his dreams every day for a week.
“Alberto?”
The answering voice is raspy and hoarse, but its familiarity thunders in Luca’s head. “L…Luca?”
And then Alberto collapses.
--
Luca does not reach him before he hits the ground but it’s a close thing. “Alberto!”
The bottom of Alberto’s tank top is torn, he cheeks gaunt. Parts of him are blue scales. The base of his skull has purple fins that fade up into his soft tower of curly hair. Almost like he had gone for a swim, and not fully dried off.
“He’s bleeding. And I think he has a fever,” Giulia says quietly, and only now does Luca realize that she is kneeling on the other side of him. Luca hears her voice as if he’s underwater. There’s something off about it, he knows, but he cannot place it.
“C’mon, Luca. We have to get him home.”
--
The trip home is quiet. They sandwich Alberto between them and Luca drives even faster on the way back.
Alberto’s weight and heat against him is a reminder of his presence—heavy and warm and here—but it’s not as comforting as Luca had thought it would be. He’s hurt. He’s sick.
I’m gonna fix this, Luca thinks, and guns it even faster as Portorosso comes into view again.
--
Luca does not know what he expects when he pulls up to the Marcovaldo’s home. He had not thought about it. Giulia is pulled aside by her mother, hushed and harsh words shading the concern from which they originate.
Signor Marcovaldo says nothing. He pulls Alberto up in his arm and disappears into the house. The churning in Luca’s gut spikes the moment Alberto disappears from his view, so Luca follows.
Giulia’s father takes Alberto back to his room, ducking into the small doorway. Luca lingers at the threshold and watches.
“Never do that again,” Signor Marcovaldo says as he lays Alberto down in his bed. It’s not until he turns to look at Luca in the doorway that Luca realizes he was speaking to him, not Alberto.
It is not a promise Luca can make. Not when he can see the rise and fall of Alberto’s chest for his own eyes.
“I had to, sir.” Luca takes a step into the room. “Is… Alberto going to be okay?”
Signor Marcovaldo turns to him, then sighs. He wordlessly places his hand on top of Luca’s head as he passes by.
“I need to make some phone calls,” he says in lieu of an answer. “Watch him for me, Luca.”
--
In the hours that follow, Luca does not leave the room.
Giulia’s mother comes in and lectures him about running off. Giulia tries to come to his defense—“we found Alberto, Mamma! Can’t you just leave him alone?”—but Luca shakes his head and apologizes, even though he is not sorry.
Signor Marcovaldo has a doctor attend to Alberto. Infected, the doctor says. But treatable. I believe he will make a full recovery.
Luca pretends he does not hear the relieved tremble to Signor Marcovaldo’s breath in response.
--
Luca is alone with Alberto and the sun is just barely peeking over the ocean’s horizon line when Alberto wakes up.
Alberto’s hand twitches in Luca’s. His green eyes crack open, and Luca leaps to his feet.
“Luca?” His name falling from Alberto’s mouth—dry and raspy as it sounds in this moment—is nearly enough to make Luca’s knees give out from under him.
“Sì, sì, sì.” Luca fumbles for the glass of water and straw on the table beside the bed. “Here.”
Alberto does not look away from Luca’s face as he drinks the water. Luca knows this because he, also, cannot bring himself to look away. As Luca pulls the cup away and turns to call for Signor Marcovaldo, Alberto’s grip on his hand tightens.
“Wait,” Alberto says.
In this moment, Luca does not believe himself capable of denying Alberto much of anything. So he stops, and turns back.
“You’re really here?”
Alberto has never sounded so small. When he touches Luca’s cheek, Luca goes very still.
“Sì,” Luca whispers.
He watches as Alberto’s green eyes flood with tears, and then hears the creak of the floorboards behind him. When Luca glances over his shoulder, he sees Giulia’s father in the doorway.
“Alberto,” Signor Marcovaldo says, and Alberto breaks.
--
Luca has to leave the room when the police come to get Alberto’s statement, but he hears whispers of it amongst the adults late at night when he is supposed to be asleep.
Word of sea monsters is spreading, Giulia’s mother says. You said Alberto said they were talking of research? I do wonder if it may have been more about experimentation—
Signor Marcovaldo’s rumble interrupts her. He escaped, Giana, and they raided the warehouse. They are not a threat any longer. That, and Alberto’s forgiveness, is all I care about.
Massimo, it’s not your fault—
It is, came the firm disagreement. Dio mi perdoni, but it is.
--
Two days later, Alberto sits in the hideout beside Luca and watches the sunlight filter through the leaves above them.
The quiet between them is filled with the sounds of Portorosso around them: children playing soccer in the town square, fishermen calling to one another on passing boats, seagulls squaking as they pass by overhead. Giulia was working on selling what remained of the family’s stock of fish, so her idle chatter is nowhere to be heard. Luca closes his eyes and listens mostly to Alberto drumming his fingers against his own stomach.
Alberto had been quiet in the days since waking up. Luca didn’t press him on it. The sound of the breath passing through his lungs and his footsteps when he walked was enough for Luca.
“Hey,” Alberto says suddenly.
“Yeah?”
“I never thanked you for coming to find me. That night, in the woods?”
Luca frowns and looks over at him. Alberto is still staring at the sky. “You don’t have to thank me. Of course I’d come for you.”
“Yeah, I just…” Alberto trails off, then sits up suddenly. Startled, Luca sits up too. Alberto turns to look at him, his green eyes intense. “I… I feel like I knew that. When I was… there. I can’t explain why, I just… I just knew.” He grabs Luca’s face in both of his hands.
Luca swears his heartbeat stops all together, then starts thundering in his chest. “Alberto—"
“I…” Alberto swallows. His eyes search Luca’s face like he might vanish if he so much as blinks. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again. I fought my way out for you, but even then, I… I wasn’t… I couldn’t be sure, but I kept thinking—”
“Silenzio, Bruno?” Luca supplies, and turns to kiss Alberto’s palm against his face.
Alberto’s answering laugh is watery and thin as he presses his forehead against Luca’s. It is the most beautiful thing Luca has ever heard in his life.
#luca#luca fanfiction#luca/alberto#luca/alberto fanfiction#alberto scorfano#angst#missing person#experimentation cw#crying
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Just Passing Through
The sun was rising on another day in the Commonwealth, but as far as Lucas Miller was concerned, that bright, lazy son-of-a-bitch had had more than its fair share of rest. His day had started hours before dawn, with the bellowing of his restless pack Brahmin better than any alarm clock; he'd rolled up his sleeping bag and doused the dying embers of the campfire, while the two guards who traveled with his caravan grumbled over cups of the steaming homemade tea they brewed from Bloodleaf flowers.
It was Sunday, two days since his caravan had set out from Bunker Hill with its usual itinerary. Their destination was Tenpines Bluff, one of the Minutemen settlements. It was small - just a handful of settlers and their shacks, and the field of Tatos they tended - but the armor trade was brisk and there were always orders coming in from nearby Sanctuary Hills. General de Havilland and her growing band of men and women had become his best customers, he reflected, as he finished tying his bootlace and rose to his feet.
The Brahmin let out a long, low moo of protest as they set off walking again.
“All right, Ol' Girl,” he told the cow, patting the side of the head nearest him. “Not much further now. We'll rest up soon and get you fed and watered.”
As he walked, his eyes settled on the road ahead, at a point just below the horizon. It always paid to keep your eyes on the road. The caravan routes were safer now than they had been for some years, with the new Minutemen patrols on the roads, but his father had always warned him to be vigilant when traveling. There were still dangers to be found out here if you weren't wary – Bloodbugs and Stingwings had taken down more than their fair share of Brahmin, and sometimes people. There were Raiders too - fewer than there used to be, but still the occasional brave or foolhardy group who took their chances. Gunners, for the most part, knew better than to disrupt the trade routes that they depended on for their own weapons, armor and chems, but some of the hotheaded ones preferred to do their negotiating down the barrel of a gun when disagreements arose. Yao Guai, Radscorpions and Deathclaws were the worst, he thought, shuddering. And Mirelurks. He hated Mirelurks.
One of the guards looked up at the sound of a distant noise. Lucas looked up too, and saw the shapes coming over the horizon; another pack Brahmin, heavily laden with boxes and bundles of goods which rattled and rustled and jingled as the two-headed cow trudged along, hooves thudding on ancient asphalt. No guards accompanied the beast of burden, but a person he recognized was walking alongside it; a weary-looking woman in a familiar blue jacket.
“Carla,” he greeted her. “How's business?”
“You again,” she said dryly. “Here to trade?”
He nodded.
“Mm-hmm. The usual. Tenpines Bluff and back again.”
“Need to pick something up? Road's pretty long from here.”
Lucas smiled. Trashcan Carla, as the locals called her, sold junk, but it was good junk – household goods, odds and ends, useful scrap scavenged from old ruins and sold to whoever had enough caps in their pocket. Sometimes she sold bulk goods, oil and steel, wood and screws, things that homesteaders and builders would put to good use as they staked their claim in the wastes, putting down foundations for farms and families. The General was a regular customer, she'd said once, as they'd stopped to chat in Bunker Hill between trips. Always building, and rebuilding, wherever she went.
“You keep traveling and I'm sure we'll do business by and by,” he replied politely.
“Maybe next time,” she said, amused. “All right then. Safe travels.”
“Safe travels to you too.”
They passed alongside each other, perfectly parallel; their Brahmin brushed past each other with long lowing noises, and the guards both nodded in Carla's direction; the small greeting designed to acknowledge each other's presence without getting caught up in conversation when you had other places to be, which she returned in kind.
Safe travels. That was the traditional farewell when your paths led you in different directions, no matter who your fellow travelers were. Farmers venturing out to bigger settlements to sell baskets of bulbous purple Mutfruits and bundles of Razorgrain; the provisioners who traveled between the smaller settlements, entrusted with the essential tasks of delivering goods and messages to their neighbors, smartly dressed in the Pre-War postal uniforms that the Minutemen issued to make their role look more “official”; the Minutemen patrols themselves, in worn jeans and yellow jackets and the militia hats popularized by Colonel Preston Garvey, the General's second-in-command; and occasionally a passing squad of Power-Armored soldiers from the Brotherhood of Steel, who might reply with a salute and a gruff response of “Citizen”, if they were feeling talkative that day.
The General wore Power Armor too, sometimes, when she wasn't wearing her famous tricorn hat and military overcoat. He'd been told that she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel herself, in addition to leading her own army; he'd seen her out and about a few times with the former Paladin Danse, who had been forced out of the faction he'd once served over some internal disagreement, if the news reports on the radio were to be believed. For someone who'd lost everything, he decided, the man had looked surprisingly happy. He supposed he would be too, if he had a beautiful woman like the General following him wherever he went...
“Who's that behind us?” said one of the guards, by his side.
Lucas blinked, and turned around to look. Sure enough, there were two more Brahmin coming up behind them, and a few more shapes, human ones – two were caravan guards, much like his, with leather armor and suspicious scowls, and rifles slung on their backs. A third person was the merchant they guarded, a bearded man in a long coat and sturdy armored boots.
“Haven't seen him before,” he responded. “Not a local, by the looks of him. Must be from outside the Commonwealth.”
The second guard, the younger one, took the hunting rifle from his back in readiness, but the first one shook his head.
“Settle down, kid, they're just traders,” he told the other. “Wrong armor for Raiders and they're hauling too much gear. Raiders travel light round these parts, and they tend to hole up somewhere and stay put. Besides, they would've taken pot-shots at us by now. And Gunners make more of an entrance. Nothing to worry about.”
The second guard reluctantly lowered his rifle again.
“Yeah, I guess so. Who's that with them?”
There were two other people with the approaching caravan, Lucas noticed, as they got closer and the second Brahmin came into view. A young woman in a Vault suit and a leather jacket was trudging alongside the animal, complaining loudly about her aching feet; the other was a little boy, mop-haired and freckle-faced, sitting on the Brahmin's back and holding onto its neck as best he could. He was about four or five, Lucas supposed, and his clothes were slightly too big for him, although wasteland kids tended to wear clothes that didn't fit them too well, and slightly too big was always considered better than slightly too small. He and the woman had clearly come a long distance, perhaps even further than the others; they both looked tired and travel-worn, their clothes and boots thick with dust from the road.
“Hey,” called out the woman. “Hey, you! Wait up!”
Lucas and the guards stopped walking.
“Whoa there,” he told his own Brahmin, and Ol' Girl obediently came to a halt. “Let's see what they want.”
The other caravan drew closer, hurrying to catch them up, and then stopped right behind Ol' Girl, who looked unimpressed by the presence of the other two Brahmin; she mooed at one when it tried to get too close, and one of its guards shooed it away a few feet.
“Hey, friend,” Lucas greeted the newcomers. “Looks like you've come a long way. Where are you headed?”
“That's just it,” said the woman, cutting in before the other trader could speak. “We're… kind of lost. Could you give us some directions? You're from round here, right?”
Lucas nodded.
“Aye. Name's Lucas Miller. I sell armor for Old Man Stockton's outfit. Based out of Bunker Hill,” he told her. “And who might you be?”
The young woman frowned, and he was suddenly reminded of the way the General frowned; the purse of her lips, a slight wrinkling at the bridge of a shapely nose, and the furrowing of a pale brow that hadn't seen very much of the outdoors.
“Best you don't ask her that,” the trader beside her interjected. “Bit of a sore topic. She's given us three fake names already, and she didn't speak to us for a day and a half when we tried to get the real one out of her.”
“How about yours, then?” Lucas tried again.
“Name's Cartwright,” said the man, with more enthusiasm. “I sell junk, mostly, odds and ends, but there's a few bits of tech the Brotherhood boys might be interested in.”
“Don't think we've met before,” Lucas remarked. “What brings you all the way out here? I take it you're not from the Commonwealth.”
Cartwright laughed.
“You're right about that, my friend. We came up here from the Capital Wasteland.”
Lucas couldn't keep the surprise from his face.
“That's quite a way to travel for a pile of junk,” he said, in spite of himself. “Just those odds and ends bringing you out here?”
This time Cartwright shook his head.
“No, not really. Wouldn't have journeyed this far, but an old friend called in a favor. You know Daisy? From Goodneighbor?”
Lucas nodded. He knew her; the Pre-War Ghoul who ran Daisy's Discounts, although he rarely frequented Goodneighbor, where the locals were more interested in chems and ammunition than armor.
“Then you'll know how persuasive she can be,” said Cartwright, with a chuckle. “No saying no to a woman like that, is there? So I promised her we - ”
The woman standing beside him gave him a sharp look. If her eyes had narrowed a little more, her expression might have nailed him to the ground.
“They told us not to talk about why we're here,” she reminded him. Her voice was less pointed than her expression, but the hint of danger was unmistakable; there was a flash of steel in the violet-blue eyes. “Mercenaries out there, remember? Gunners, or whatever they call themselves. If that guy reports back to them and they find out why we're here, then we're in a whole world of trouble.”
Lucas shook his head at that. Gunners were, on the whole, bad for business. Angering them somehow seemed like an even worse commercial decision.
“I won't ask, then,” he said firmly. “I stay out of the affairs of others. No good comes of it.”
This time the woman gave him a friendlier look; still cool, but more appreciative.
“Smart man. Sorry. Nothing personal, but the instructions we had were pretty clear. All we want is a nod in the right direction.”
“I think I can help with that,” Lucas volunteered. “Where is it you're wanting to go?”
The woman paused to roll up her sleeve. There was a Pip-Boy on her wrist; a rare sight, thought Lucas, although the Vault suit now made more sense. There was a trading post at Vault 81, one of the few that still functioned and hadn't killed its Pre-War inhabitants in the process, and a few regulars came out to barter for goods they needed. Those Vault-dwellers tended not to travel too far from their home, although the General herself hadn't been able to get out of hers fast enough. Frozen, they'd said, before the war; what a world she'd emerged into, and how different it must have been from the one she'd left behind.
“Sanctuary,” she said, after checking an entry on the screen. “Or Sanctuary Hills. Heights. Something like that.”
“Sanctuary Hills?” Lucas suggested. “That the one you mean?”
The woman made an irritable noise, and waved her hand impatiently.
“Whatever. Close enough. But yeah, that's where we're going. We have a delivery we need to make.”
“Special delivery!” the little boy said proudly, from atop the Brahmin's back. “That's me!”
The woman smiled, perhaps a bit distantly, and ruffled the kid's hair.
“Yeah, that's you. Good job, kiddo, you've told everyone we met so far. So much for not talking to strangers. Your dad's not going to be pleased with me if we run into anyone who's not the friendly type.”
“You don't need to worry about that, miss,” Lucas' older guard assured her. “The Minutemen don't take kindly to folk who harass travelers on the road, and that goes double for kids. Mess with someone's child, steal them away or what have you, and the General will get to hear about it. You might be worried about mercenaries, but trust me, they're more worried about her.”
The young woman smirked.
“Hmm. And I thought Talon Company were scared of me back home. Sounds like this General is a woman to be reckoned with.”
“You'll reckon with her soon enough,” said Lucas, raising his eyebrows. “Sanctuary is her home and it's well-guarded. Turrets and watch towers and the like. You mind yourself when you visit and be sure to make a proper introduction. Strangers who won't give their names aren't the welcome kind.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Fine. If she wants to know who I am that badly, I'll be sure to tell her. Now can you tell us how to get there?”
“That I can,” Lucas told her. “Here, let me see that Pip-Boy of yours. I'll mark it on your map.”
The younger of his two guards muttered something to the other about Colonel Garvey, and the other let out a small chuckle. Lucas ignored them, and studied the screen, patterned in green and black. The topography seemed less familiar from above than it did at eye level, but he followed the road until he saw some landmarks he recognized.
“Concord's that way, and then the Red Rocket station. Follow the road up north and cross the Old North Bridge. It's dead ahead, you can't miss it.”
“Thanks,” said the woman, as he let go of her arm again. “Appreciate the help, Mr. Miller.”
“Not a problem. Any armor for you today?”
She shook her head.
“No, thanks. I think we're good.”
Lucas shook his head too. He'd been selling his wares to wastelanders for many years, and it was the bold and foolish ones who went away empty-handed. Still, there was something in the woman's expression that suggested that it would be more foolish still to try to grab her unawares, and there were subtle hints in the way she moved that suggested that her blue-and-yellow Vault jumpsuit had already been customized to her liking, and that she was more than adequately armed and armored.
“As you say. Well, safe travels then,” he concluded. “Good luck with whatever it is you're here to do. And give my regards to Daisy, when you see her.”
“Thanks, we will,” said Cartwright, with a friendly gesture. “Good to meet you, Lucas. And travel safe yourself. Perhaps we'll see each other again on the road.”
They parted ways, and the caravan moved on ahead of them, faster now that they were moving with more purpose. Lucas heard the little boy pipe up:
“Will we see Daddy soon?”
“Don't worry, Duncan, we're almost there,” she said casually. “They said he'll be there waiting for you. Been a while, too, hasn't it? I bet he can't wait to see you again…”
Their voices were already fading on the wind, dwindling in the distance as they followed the road and disappeared over the hill. Lucas shrugged, and gave his Brahmin a gentle nudge.
“Don't mind them, Ol' Girl. They're just passing through. Off we go now, there's a good girl.”
The Brahmin made some vaguely displeased noises and swished her tail a few times, but started to lumber off in the right direction again, unfazed by the goods on her back and the steeper incline as they followed their usual path.
As they climbed up the hill, Lucas caught another glimpse of the travelers from the Capital Wasteland; a long way to travel, he thought, and an even longer journey back if they hoped to avoid the greenish clouds that were already rumbling ominously over the Glowing Sea. It seemed a great deal of effort to go to, just to bring a small child all the way out here.
Still, he thought, as he turned his gaze toward the small cluster of shacks and caught sight of the bright blue Minutemen flag waving above Tenpines Bluff, they probably had their reasons.
#this was a little leftover from an abandoned writing challenge#short but sweet#Elle [Last Name Redacted]#Lucas Miller#Trashcan Carla#and a small Duncan MacCready cameo#more of which later#Our Bond Is Steel#OBIS#tales from the Margotverse#Fallout 4#Fallout 4 fanfic#writing
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Sanguine I Mafia
Genre: Mafia AU Warnings: dark themes Word Count: 3k ANON Ask: Hi I really LOVE your writing and I’d like to request the reader in the nct mafia series gets in some trouble with another company. Serious trouble. But on accident. So the boys have to really work something out to get her back – I’ve taken the idea and done a little series, hope you like it <3 Summary: You were a second year med student taken in by the house of NCT. It’s not uncommon to be the last to learn things within the house but when your safety is threatened, your forced to leave home with no option. But it only makes things worse.
****
Waking up to a loud racket in the morning was nothing new or surprising for you. After moving in, the rarity of having a silent morning was priceless and you could only dream of those days. However, for this Thursday morning, waking up so late in the morning was a disaster, finding out you’re running late to your morning lecture wasn’t what you were expecting. As a second year med student, suggested by yours truly, Qian Kun, you were crushed by the weight of content, leading to late study nights and hectic schedules.
When you were first bought in, you were still a first year student, confused in what course direction to take, what your interests were, and your own capability. As you got comfortable within the house while your first year ended, Kun suggested going into medical school, noticing your attention to detail and caring nature. Lucky for you, your studies were never an issue and getting in proved no difficulty.
Your bedside clock given as a gift from Doyoung (because your always late), showed 8:02am, 28 minutes before it starts. Quickly jumping out of bed you ran to your bathroom, brushing through the knots that had formed in your hair overnight and taking a shower. After getting dressed and grabbing your phone and bag you ran downstairs to grab a snack before leaving. Surprisingly the house seemed strangely quiet for an early morning. A few of the boys slept in during the mornings, somehow managing to sleep though the heavy noise, but majority would be up and about by now.
You sneaked a peak into the living room while grabbing an apple from the fridge, seeing the absence of people. You grabbed your usual set of keys from the row of hooks at the entrance to the garage, noticing most of the car keys were missing but too late to think deeply into it. You ran over to your favourite car within the garage and threw your backpack onto the passenger seat beside you before starting the engine and driving as fast as you could to your class.
Arriving 5minutes after the lecture started, you sneak in through the back door hoping no one would notice you. Obviously with your luck, the class happened to be completely silent when you entered and the sound of the door creaking open caught everyone’s attention. You mumbled a small apology to the lecturer who didn’t bother to acknowledge your presence and continued with his talk. You settle into your seat and pull out your laptop and begin typing away as he talks.
Almost halfway through your lecture your phone buzzes. You ignore the initial vibration felt from the phone on your desk, too immersed in typing as your lecturer continues talking without bothering to slow down. However, as soon as the continuous texts popped through, the students around you were starting to give you looks and you had no choice but to answer to your phone. You glance at the screen noticing the texts from Jaehyun.
Jaehyun: Where are you?
Jaehyun: Y/N?
Jaehyun: Y/N? Answer me.
Y/N: In a lecture, something up?
You see the three little dots typing through the screen for a minute, then disappearing, and then reappearing.
Jaehyun: No, have fun and stay safe.
Not bothering with it too much, you placed your phone in your bag this time, and tried to catch up to what the lecturer was explaining. When the digital clock above the board showed 10am, the lecturer began piling up his paperwork, and dismissed the class.
Normally you’d find the Dream group who would be roaming around the campus around the same time as you had your lunch break. The 2000s line were first year students due to their part time commitment as students. They balanced life at home with training and missions while also completing a normal life – forced upon by Taeyong. You made your way over to the tables under the shaded trees and pulled out your phone to pass time. It was almost 10:30 when you realised there was still no one here.
You pull up the group chat you had for the bunch of you who attended college; Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, Jaemin and you.
Y/N: Did you guys all ditch today?
Haechan: We got held back at home
Y/N: You’re at home?
Haechan: Yeah
Y/N: It was so quiet this morning though, I thought no one was home.
Haechan: Big meeting today
Y/N: Guess I’m spending lunch alone
Jaemin: Go make some new friends
Jaemin: Girl-friends only
Y/N: :(
You hum to yourself, putting in your earphones and grabbing your drawing pad along with a pen. The time passes rather quickly as you sketch out the trees in your view, the figures of people passing by, the group of friends gathered on the lawn. The music abruptly stops and you look at your phone, confused at the interruption. You notice the call coming through and pull out your earphones to place the phone against your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey can you come to the car?”
“My car?” You ask, confused.
“Yeah, I’m at your car.”
“Okay, give me a few minutes.” You tell him, hanging up to gather all your belongings.
You notice the familiar car parked next to your own car and your face crinkles up confused at the unannounced visit from Lucas coming to your campus. Lucas stands leaning against the bumper of his car, staring at his phone not seeing you approach him.
“Hey what are you doing here?” You ask,
“I’m picking you up.” He simply states, putting his phone in his pocket and taking your laptop and textbooks from your grasp.
“I drove though.” You tell him.
“I know, one of the guys will get your car,” he says, motioning to the passenger side of his car for you to get in as he places your stuff in the back seat and opens the door on the driver’s side for himself.
“What’s going on?” You ask, closing the door before your fighting with your seatbelt strap to pull over your shoulder.
“We’re going on a vacation.” Lucas replies, leaning over to help you with your seatbelt. You lean back against your seat as he fumbles with it for a second and then buckles you in.
“Thanks, and I don’t know if you’ve realised but I still have lectures to attend tomorrow.” You tell him.
“Jaehyun handled them already.” He tells you.
“What do you mean?” You ask, starting to get concerned with the sudden situation. “Lucas what’s going on?” you ask again.
“Call Jaehyun, it’s better he tells you,” Lucas says, letting out a sigh as he pushes the gear stick into drive. You pull out your phone and dial his number, being sent straight into voicemail. You try again while Lucas watches, waiting for a response as well.
“He isn’t answering.”
“Try Taeyong.” He tells you. You click onto your speed dial for 1, calling Taeyong immediately. The phone rings for a few seconds and as your about to give up, he answers.
“Hello?”
“Hey princess what’s up?”
“Jaehyun didn’t pick up his phone and what’s with this sudden vacation? I still have classes to attend.”
“I’ve put your application on defer for now.”
“You did what?!” You yell into the phone. Lucas flinches from your sudden raise in voice.
“Sorry I should’ve talked about this with you.” You hear Taeyong sigh through the other end.
“Yeah, obviously. I’m not going on vacation or whatever this crap is Tae, I’m going back to class tomorrow.”
“Y/N things aren’t going very well recently and I need you to get away from everyone so your safe.”
“I don’t care about that, since when did you have a say in my education and what I do?!” You yell, “I’ll move in with a friend if I have to but I’m not leaving.”
“Sorry Y/N but I can’t let you do that, please just go with Lucas for now okay? I’m busy at the moment so I’ll call you back later.” He states, hanging up before anyone has a chance to say more.
Little did you know, the meeting that occurred earlier in the day was to discuss the current situation with enemy plans and events that have recently been going on. The members had been taking turns following you secretly to classes or trying to accompany you wherever you went without you realising it. Taeyong had been receiving threats lately regarding the entire NCT and the safety of the members. When someone sent an anonymous email to him containing images taken of you doing your daily activities outside of the house he decided it was time to separate you from the group.
Much to many of the members disliking of being separated and out of site, you were in danger to be living with them in this current situation. You leaving the city was planned last minute today and was agreed upon by majority in the meeting. Doyoung and Lucas had packed all your essentials within a few minutes before Lucas left to pick you up, leading you to where you were now. Your safety had been left in the hands of Lucas, unfortunately. Not saying that you were on bad terms with Lucas but more of his reliability seemed to be questionable.
Lucas on the other hand was even more miserable than you. The problem of babysitting you while being separated from all the action back home and being stuck inside a hotel would kill him of boredom.
The car ride was mostly silent, Lucas trying to change through the music playing and then being interrupted by phone calls coming through. He connected them to his in ear Bluetooth, trying to avoid you from hearing about the business projects he was dealing with. You rotated between sleeping and scrolling through social media for the car ride. Eventually as night falls, he pulls into a hotel within a small town. The two of you get out the car and he goes in ahead of you, tossing the keys to you while he susses it out.
The front desk lady had placed a pair of keys on the counter bench when you walked in the front door. You could see Lucas was running a hand through his hair – a habit he did when he was frustrated - when you approach him.
“What happened? Did you place a reservation?” You ask Lucas as he dials Jaehyun.
“The guys did, Jaehyun gave me the address for this place.”
“What’s the problem then?” You question, confused.
“Why did you book only one room and there’s only one bed?” Lucas complains into the phone. As soon as Lucas mentions one room you go blank. Sharing a bed wasn’t an issue for either of you, considering you’d had frequent movie nights with him which you ended up sleeping there instead of returning to your room. The problem is his sleeping habits. They want me to share a room with this loudass? How am I meant to sleep through his snoring? Your head was running through a billion problems and you were bought back into reality just as Lucas was about to hang up.
“Jaehyun what is this?” You ask, motioning for the phone from Lucas.
“Hey baby how are you?”
“Great. A little frustrated but you know, nothing new.” You tell him sarcastically.
“Yeah I know, sorry everything was too sudden for you.”
You sigh into the phone, knowing that you shouldn’t be taking your feelings out on him, “Yeah.”
“It’ll be over soon,” He says, comforting you through the phone.
“Okay,” you mumble, “Lucas and I are checking in now, be careful okay?”
“Yeah you too.” He replies, just as you end the call and hand the phone back to Lucas.
Lucas takes the keys on the counter and the two of you head back to the car to bring your belongings up. The room was simple. A large king sized bed and a TV in its direct line of sight. The bathroom connected near the entrance in a separate area and a little study desk and lamp. A little couch at the far end near the curtains covering the sight of a balcony.
“I’m going to shower first.” You tell him, searching for your pyjamas.
“Don’t be so slow, I’m tired.” He complains.
“Says the boy who spends 20minutes in there.” You shoot him a glare and he smiles at you blinking his eyes with innocence. “Also who packed my suitcase, where’s my pjs?”
“Doyoung and I did, don’t know if we packed pjs though..” he trails off. He pushes himself up from the couch and flips through his bag. He pulls out a plain white shirt and throws it across the room to you, “Wear this.”
“Is it clean?” You ask, holding it with the tips of your fingers. His hygiene routine isn’t classified as one of the best within the group and you feared he had given you a sweaty one.
“Obviously.” You give him a suspicious look and gather your night time things, heading into the bathroom. You strip down and step slowly into the tub, turning the water on high and letting it beat over your head as the steam begins to fog up the mirror. Closing your eyes, the heat of the water soaks into your skin and you lean against the cool tiles, exhausted at the day of events.
After you’ve washed shampoo and conditioner through your hair, you turn the tap off, squeezing out the water with your hands into the tub before stepping out. The towel hangs from the door hook and your easily able to grab it without getting the floor wet. You quickly dry yourself off and chuck on a bra, undies and Lucas’ white shirt. You wrap the towel around your hair as you step out and the temperature difference of the rooms immediately causes you to shiver.
“You can go now.” You tell Lucas, jumping straight under the covers of the bed. He hums in response, throwing you the TV remote while he disappears. You lean up against the bed board and flick through the channels, finally deciding to just turn it off instead when nothing seems interesting just as your phone beeps.
Johnny: Hey Princess are you still awake?
Y/N: Yeah, how is everyone?
Johnny: Everyone’s okay, there’s a training session going on at the moment so they’re all a bit busy
Y/N: Ahh okay.
Your debating whether you should ask about Taeyong, regretting yelling at him earlier and knowing he was only trying to keep you safe.
Y/N: Is Taeyong mad at me?
Johnny: He’s not mad, just a little stressed is all.
Johnny: Don’t worry about it.
Y/N: Okay
Johnny: Go to sleep now, it’s getting late, you and Lucas still have to keep driving tomorrow.
Y/N: I will, goodnight.
Johnny: Night <3.
Just as you shut your bedside light, Lucas walks out the bathroom shirtless, ruffling his hair with the towel and eyes glued to his phone.
“You’re not sleeping on the couch?” He asks, glancing over at you.
“Me?” You question.
“Well I’m too tall to fit and besides, I’ve been driving all day and I’ll be driving all day tomorrow.” He states, pulling the sheets down on the other side.
“Do you know how many bedbugs are on that couch?” You ask before answering it yourself, “too many.”
“Just don’t kick me throughout the night like last time.” He warns you, flipping over to his side.
“Wow you’re so terrifying.” You mumble, crawling more towards your side of the bed. “Don’t snore like your Santa Claus okay?” You remind him.
Lucas obviously ignored your warning as he snores throughout the night. You let out a groan as you sit up and push him over, tossing him more towards his side of the bed. He stops snoring momentarily and then it starts again after a few minutes of peaceful silence. Are you kidding me. You do your best to just ignore him and fold the pillow against your ear, making the sound as quiet as possible. Your phone rings just as you feel like you’re finally falling into sleep and you cry in frustration, rolling over to reach it and pick up, not looking at the caller ID.
“Hey baby, how have you been?” The deeper voice asks.
“Sorry, do I know you?” You mumble, still asleep in your state.
“Ouch, that hurts, how could you say that to your lover.”
You open your eyes, squinting at the light of the unknown number on your phone screen. “Sorry I think you’ve got the wrong number.”
“Do I really? I swear this was the number for Miss Y/N, the beautiful lady who happens to be living with one of the desired Mafia gangs.” You stayed silent through the phone, immediately sitting up, obviously this guy knew who you were and your relation to the boys. You glance at Lucas whose still asleep and your feet search for your slippers. Quietly you tip toe out to the hallway, leaving a gap in the door behind you. “If I’ve still got the wrong number feel free to hang up, I’ll continue chatting with the so notorious leader who happens to be knocked unconscious.”
“WAIT!” You whisper into the phone,
“Hm?”
“Wh-what do you want?” You hesitatingly ask.
“That’s what I thought.” He laughs. “Now I know you aren’t alone baby, so is anyone listening to us?”
“No.”
“Good girl.” He hums before continuing “I want you to come home.”
“What?”
“Come home, alone.” He says, “and remember to keep this a secret, or it might be bad for the present I have for you. I’ll be waiting.”
#nct#nct127#nct dream#nct mafia#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct blurbs#nct reactions#nct fanfic#kpop#kpop mafia#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#nct scenarios#nct angst#nct x reader#nct taeyong#nct jaehyun#nct mark#nct haechan#nct lucas#superm#wayv#lee taeyong#jung jaehyun#lee donghyuk#nct johnny#mafia fanfic#mafia imagines#nct mafia au
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Modern Wonders - Chapter 2
Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV), Alice (TV 2009)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Grumpy | Leroy, Hatter (Alice TV 2009), Dodo (Alice TV 2009), Queen of Hearts (Alice TV 2009), Carpenter (Alice TV 2009), Mad March (Alice TV 2009), The White Rabbit | Agent White (Alice TV 2009), Doormouse (Alice TV 2009), Widow Lucas | Granny, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Wonderland, Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Pining, UST, Violence, Psychological Torture, Torture, Exploitation, Revenge, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Reconciliation
Summary: Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, and when Regina casts Rumple's Dark Curse, just a few words here and there creates Storybrooke in a very different place, with a very different atmosphere, and very different issues to deal with. Alliances and enmity permeate the lives of the citizens of Storybrooke, (and beyond), as they tiptoe around the various dangers they face every day. Who is awake? How can they break the curse within a curse? And what of the power struggles rife both within, and outside of Storybrooke itself.
Read previous chapters on AO3
Chapter 2 - Storybrooke
The gold handled cane did him little good in the surroundings outside, the broken terrain, but within the confines of the shanty town that was Storybrooke Gold’s stride was long, and confident, more like a lord measuring out his demesne than a poor crippled pawn broker living on the deals and heartbreak of others. He smiled wickedly to himself to think of the impression he gave to others, and the thrall he kept them under in spite of appearances.
Oh, if only they knew.
Storybrooke was not as ‘dead’ as they thought - or rather, as Regina thought - because Storybrooke was a tiny little bubble within the larger cesspit that was Wonderland, and he had the advantage. He had been here before… with Jefferson - and he frowned.
Since their arrival he couldn’t remember having seen Jefferson, not even lurking in the mansion that Regina had meant as his prison… his torment, to be shut away from his Grace. He made a mental note to pay the man a visit, determined to unlock the conundrum. Of course no one else cared. No one else was awake… and he wasn’t meant to be, he was sure of it - another conundrum for him to unravel.
“Um… Mi— Mister Gold, I ah… that is…”
Gold halted on the paved sidewalk, and turned his head to watch as Archie Hopper, umbrella in hand - in preparation for what rain, Gold wondered - cross the deserted street toward him.
“Doctor Hopper,” he greeted the man with false cheer. “A pleasure, but out with it, man, I haven’t got all day.”
“Oh, I… um…” Hopper pushed his glasses up along his nose, back into place, “I wondered if you’d had a chance to consider my… ah… proposition?”
“Ah, yes,” Gold purred. “Walk with me, won’t you?”
Gold turned without waiting for the good doctor’s agreement or otherwise, and set a slower pace toward Granny’s diner. With the library still closed, it was the one place left open for informal, communal gatherings. Of all of Storybrooke’s other, cursed, inhabitants, the proprietor was someone for whom he had a good deal of respect. Tough as nails, no nonsense, Widow Lucas was as upstanding a pillar of the community that Storybrooke possessed.
All the rest were crumbling; as crumbling as the buildings and the streets of Storybrooke itself. Gold wondered if anyone else had noticed.
It was subtle. The odd crack in a sidewalk here, the tendril of a vine there, a wall, beginning to crumble and weeds reclaiming a spot or two in the well manicured gardens. Subtle, but unmistakable. Wonderland was reclaiming its own.
“I’ve give it a good deal of thought, as a matter of fact,” Gold told Hopper before he allowed his observations to run away with him. “And while, obviously, as an upstanding member of our town council, I can’t condone what you’re suggesting…” he left a long pause as they reached the diner’s doorstep, whereupon, lowering his voice to a dangerous growl, he blocked Doctor Hoppers path with his arm, stretched across the doorway, and said, “I think it might be just what some people in this town need.”
**
Whale growled softly and turned away from the window. It wasn’t the paint, peeling, that was the cause of his frustration, but the fact that he couldn’t reconcile the feeling that was flowing through him, and the sky outside of the hospital. It was almost cloudless.
He was, he tried to tell Sheriff Humbert when the man called in to find out about his latest patient who had been found wandering - raving by all accounts - about some kind of ‘door,’ a doctor and not an investigator. The sheriff however, refused to help him get to the truth about his patient’s ramblings.
“This isn’t Narnia,” he said in a somewhat poor display of bedside manner, “there are no doors to other, magical kingdoms. No witches, no wizards, no—”
“Yeah?” the citizen interrupted. “How do you explain this then?” Whereupon he pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the strange, abstract shape standing out raw and painful looking on his arm.
“A uh… tattoo?” Doctor Whale suggested in an overly patient tone. “And a somewhat fresh one from what I can tell.”
“Uh-huh,” the patient argued, “And you get em just like that,” he snapped his fingers somewhat inexpertly, “do ya?” He jerked his head toward the window. “When the sun shines on ya?”
“Sheriff Humbert, please,” Whale turned his attention to the man hovering uncomfortably in the doorway, looking as guilty as sin and extremely distracted. “You see? You can at least tell me where you picked this man up, and if there were, indeed, a door there?”
“I’m sorry, Doctor, but… there’s nothing I can tell you,” Humbert answered. “I’d like to tell you I saw a door, but the truth is, I was far too worried about your patient here to pay too much attention. His safety was my priority.” He took a breath and added far too hurriedly in Whale’s opinion, “Anyway, I just called round to see how he was getting along. Can’t stay though,” he said. “I’ve a council meeting, that I have to get to in,” he glanced at his watch, “ten minutes. And the mayor doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Then he left, and Whale remained, alone and without explanation standing beside the hospital window staring at the wrongly colored sky.
**
Gold sighed softly as the bell over the shop door tinkled to announce an unwanted caller. He wasn’t sure why he expected that simply displaying a ‘closed’ sign would discourage random visitors, and mused to himself that perhaps locking the door might be a more effective deterrent.
Taking his time, he picked up the cloth from the workbench and carefully began wiping his fingers clean of the gear oil which he had been using on the innards of a delicate clock, even as he made his way out of the back room, and into the shop, limping as he went.
“Madam Mayor,” he said as he set eyes on Regina standing practically tapping her foot with annoyance at having to wait. He kept his tone light, appreciative, as if to imply he respected that someone so important was going out of their way to be in his presence. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Cut the crap, Gold,” Regina snapped, by way of a return to his greeting. “What did you do!”
So she has noticed.
“I’m… sorry,” he said slowly, “I don’t follow.”
“It’s a simple question,” she growled. “What. Did. You. Do? Everything’s coming unraveled.”
“Unraveled?” he echoed, deciding that he would continue to feign ignorance for as long as he were able; see what he could find out - what she would let slip. “I’m afraid I haven’t done anything, and I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He put the slightest hint of pique into his voice at the end of his assertion, to make it convincing, then for good measure, added, “If it’s something woven, or a knitted blanket, I’d be happy to take a look at it. It wouldn’t be the first time that—”
Regina’s hand slammed down onto the top of one of the glass cased, rattling the contents within as she snarled, “Drop it, Gold. I know you’re awake. Not that you’re supposed to be. Jefferson was the only one I—”
So, my old friend is in Wonderland too. He’s not going to be happy with that.
“Awake?” Gold interrupted, then with a confused laugh in his voice he added, “Regina, you’re not making any sense. Of course I’m awake. I’m standing here, talking to you - was just fixing a clock out back, so unless I fell asleep while I was working and this is all a dream—”
He made a mental note to take another walk around Storybrooke some time very soon, to check on Grace, and hoped with all his heart that she was safe; almost that she wasn’t here - that whatever had diverted the curse to Wonderland had spared her.
Regina growled, cutting off his words, and his train of thought. He raised an eyebrow, undecided whether to reveal himself in that moment, or to play the game a little longer. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“The borders are failing,” she said harshly. “This wretched realm is encroaching on my town. So if you had anything to do with that, Gold, so help me…”
It was the threat that broke his resolve to pretend he was not awake. No one, least of all Regina threatened Gold on his own turf, and the shop was his turf in more ways than one.
“Well, well, well…” his voice was more of a low rumble in his chest, and he took his cane in hand and walked toward, and then around Regina until he was barely behind her, and purred in her ear, “…Dearie…” Even so, confessing he was awake was one thing, revealing he had magic, that was quite something else. “Things not going quite how you planned?”
“I know you have something to do with this,” she accused.
He circled around the rest of the way to come and lean against one of the display cases, looking far more casual than he felt as he looked her up and down, before he said, “Now, what makes you think,” he pointed at her, “that even if I had the power to - what was it you said - ‘unravel’ this little town of yours, that I’d even waste my time trying.” As he spoke of himself, he jabbed his thumb against his own chest, the grandeur of the gesture far more reminiscent of his Enchanted Forest form than the upright, uptight Mister Gold of Storybrooke.
“What you should be asking, dearie,” he rumbled, “is who would have the kind of magic necessary to mess with my Dark Curse?”
#rumbelle#au.#cursed storybrooke#wonderland#drug use#recreational drug use#pining#ust#psychological torture#violence#torture#exploitation#revenge#eventual romance#eventual smut#reconciliation#Modern Wonders#i will always write jefferson
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Breathe Me - Chapter 3 [nct vamp au]
Pairing: Oc x Taeyong , Oc x Johnny [side: markxoc, tenxoc, lucasxoc, jaehyunxoc]
Included Members: Taeyong, Johnny, Mark, Lucas, Ten, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Haechan (maybe more)
Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst, Fantasy
Warnings: angst, blood, death (this chapter), strong language
Description: After dropping out of college and coming home for the first time in two years, 22-year-old Ava Lee gets caught up in a mystery surrounding the people she thought she knew for so long. Between friendship, affairs and true love the young women finds herself being pulled into a nightmare she would never wake up from.
a/n: dundunduuun. I re-wrote this chapter 8476 times. Yikes.This chapter is from the boys' (mostly Taeyong) point of view so you get a little insight on the different relationships and what happened :o Plus some explanation to what they (obviously) are and other stuff . *winkwonk* Anyway I hope you enjoy this! I’m actually hyped to write the next one, oof. (I had to delete and repost this because Tumblr wasn’t showing it anymore and idk why)
[tagging @neowritingsnet and @czennienet because tumblr won’t let this post show up in the tags, whysoever :^)
words: ~5k
Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||
Taeyong sighed, resting his back against the wall of the café. He looked down to his feet, listening to the conversation the two girls had, while hiding in the back room, to avoid looking at them. Yes, he felt a bit ashamed for eavesdropping but was it really eavesdropping if he would understand every word anyway? He didn't even have to try to specifically listen to them. The café was quiet, just some cozy music playing in the background – nothing that would distract his sensitive senses.
He let the back of his head fall against the wall, his eyes now facing the ceiling when someone came into the room.
“You good?”, Jaehyun said and Taeyong nodded at his friend, straightening himself up and walking up to the table, thinking if he should just make some more pastries to keep his thoughts collected and senses calm.
He saw how Jaehyuns eyes were glued to the small doorway arch, leading into the main room of the café. Taeyong knew that he was listening as well. How couldn't he?
“Did you know that she was back?”, Taeyong asked, raising one of his brows, looking directly into Jaehyuns eyes when he turned his head away from the noise and towards his friend.
Jaehyun kept silent for a minute and bit his lip. Taeyong knew, that he couldn't lie to him. Well, he could try.
“It's fine if you don't want to tell me.”, Taeyong added softly and let a small smile escape his lips.
“Thank you.”, Jaehyun answered, seemingly relieved.
Taeyong looked away, not wanting to disturb his friend much longer.
“Strange, isn't it? Why did she come back now?”, Jaehyun asked quietly, starting to set up some hot water to get himself some tea.
“I don't know.”, he answered, his voice sounding dry.
He felt how Jaehyun looked at him.
“It doesn't matter, as long as you won't let her out of your sight.”, Taeyong added and sighed.
“Of course I won't. I didn't let her out of my sight for the past years now, just how you told me to do. But it's not like we're that close or something. She rarely really talks to me anyway.”, Jaehyun answered truthfully.
“I know. You don't need to tell me what you're doing if you don't want to, Jaehyun. I won't force you to tell me.”, Taeyong tried to smile again, not letting his emotions out of control for a brief second. He knew, that Jaehyun knew he was hiding something, yet he didn't further ask him anything.
These years ago, after the incident, Taeyong needed to change something. He knew that she was at risk of getting hurt. But Johnny was incapable of even talking about her, after what happened. Taeyong just had to know how safe she was in New York, so he entrusted her safety with Jaehyun. The boy knew, what could happen if he sent Jaehyun but he couldn't care about his own feelings. It wasn't right. So he didn't.
Yet, it was indeed strange that she decided to come back for now. It was even stranger that no one seemed to feel the need to tell him. He could understand them, though. None of them knew his part of the whole story – not even Johnny. And that's how it was supposed to be. Still, he wished someone had told him so he could prepare. But as much as he was worried to show anything, he knew that she wasn't able to see it anyway. However, the encounter with her wasn't how it was supposed to be. The way she looked at him, he could see her emotions written all over her soft face. She remembered something in the back of her head. He sighed slightly, trying to think about what he'd done wrong. It wasn't usually like this. She was supposed to see him as a complete stranger.
“You want some tea?”, he heard Jaehyun ask and shook his head. It wasn't like they needed it anyway, yet he knew that Jaehyun enjoyed the taste of it.
They both looked up as they heard how the girls stood up and brought their plates and cups to the counter. They noticed how Ava stood still for a moment, before leaving the café.
“Do you think it's a good idea to let her come to the party?”, Jaehyun asked after he took a sip of his tea.
“Well, you can't un-invite her. As long she won't be left alone, nothing will happen.”, Taeyong patted his friend's shoulder before going out to collect the dirty dishes and putting them in the sink where he started to clean them.
“Ah, Johnny's outside.”, Taeyong said as he sensed the presence of his friend right outside the back door. “Would you mind picking up some books from the store?”, he added and looked at Jaehyun, who was staring it him for a second too long. Both heard that Ava was probably going there right this second.
The room got silent for a while, only filled with the noise of running water and the scrubbing of the sponge, Taeyong cleaned the dishes with.
“Fine.”, Jaehyun sighed, not able to say no, even though Taeyong didn't do anything.
Taeyong listened how both of them went to the store next door and finished doing the dishes and putting them back in the shelves where they belong.
It wasn't easy for him to see Ava after this time, yet he just had to pretend he rarely knew her. Honestly, he wasn't even sure if he'd knew her at all. All these memories he buried in the last corner of his brain, where they should just fade slowly, but they simply weren't as slowly fading as he wished for. It was tiring for him. Way easier, when she wasn't in the small town, though. He even resisted from asking how things where going whenever Jaehyun had some news. He just pretended he didn't care at all. It would be way too awkward and exhausting if he'd tell them. It was for the best just like things were.
Maybe she wasn't staying for long anyway, maybe it was just a short visit whatsoever. But deep down he knew it wasn't. He was a little uneasy thinking about the part, maybe even anxious. It wasn't like he thought their house was a dangerous place, yet he preferred to let her stay out of it for as long as possible. He sighed and looked at the clock, thinking about how he would survive for the next hours with his head full of thoughts.
Lost in thought, he cleaned the tables. Was it insensitive for him to send Jaehyun and Johnny together when he knew she was there? Maybe. But it wasn't his cup of tea, honestly. He didn't want to interfere with their lives, especially not hers. The years went by and she got more grown-up, he thought, probably much stronger than before, so she'd knew what was best for her. Or at least, that's what he wished for.
He knew that the city she knew changed and it wouldn't take long until she started to ask questions. Things happened, life went on. Taeyong wanted nothing more than to protect her from all these things which had happened and will happen but he wasn't in the position to do so. He just hoped time went by quickly and she'd return to a city where she was safe. Well, safer than here.
Taeyong could easily hear how Johnny and Jaehyun came through the backdoor again, their hands full with books. He could tell the shifting atmosphere between them and watched how Johnny just quickly nodded at him before bringing the books into the café, placing them in the intended bookshelf on the wall at the back.
Taeyong sighed and looked at Jaehyun who just shrugged his shoulders and completed his task the same way Johnny did.
“Why did you tell her to come?”, he heard Johnny ask Jaeyhun as both of them joined Taeyong in the back.
“Well, technically I didn't tell her. Her friend invited her beforehand.”, Jaehyun chuckled and tried to avoid Taeyong's staring gaze.
“You do realize I'm not blind, don't you?”, Johnny hissed and Taeyong saw how his jaw clenched. Johnny wasn't good at hiding his emotions. He never really was.
“I know.”, Jaehyun answered plainly and leaned against a big table in the middle of the room.
“I don't know what you want. Do you want to make me mad?”, Johnny's voice was strained, he got angry. Taeyong avoided to look directly at his friend, continuing to listen to their conversation, even though he didn't even want to hear it at this time.
“Jeez, not everything is about you, Johnny.”, Jaehyun said annoyed, running his hand through his dark hair and sighing, looking at Taeyong, asking him for help but Taeyong just turned around and headed outside of the door.
He obviously didn't tell Johnny about the task he obliged Jaehyun with as he honestly didn't think of them to collide like this any time soon. He sighed and stood in front of the back door for some time, fighting with himself if he should listen to their conversation or not.
“Since when are you close to her anyway? I never even see you talk to her.”, he heard Johnny ask Jaehyun.
“You mean because you talked to her so much the last years?”, Jaehyun chuckled, “Honestly, you should seriously get your shit together. She won't wait forever, you know.”
The door opened in front of Taeyong and Jaehyun stared at him before closing it behind him, leaving Johnny alone in the room.
“I won't ask you to tell me why you want me to do this.”, Jaehyun sighed once more and started to walk next to Taeyong, who fell silent.
・.。*†*。.・◆・.。*†*。.・◆・.。*†*。.・◆・.。*†*。.・
“Didn't you say it was a small gathering?”, Jaehyun said while watching more and more people casually walk into their house. Most of them had some kind of booze or snacks in their hands, everyone already seeming to feel a little lightheaded, as they started to laugh and dance to the music.
“Yeah, I might've told some people and you know-”, Lucas answered apologetic and pouted towards Jaehyun, who just rolled his eyes and patted Lucas' shoulder to signalize him that it was fine. He couldn't change it anyway now. Lucas face lit up and he smiled at Jaehyun, thanking him for being chill and cool, before wiggling his way through the mass of people, in which everyone seemed to know him.
Jaehyun's eyes followed the youngest with every step he took. He was young, just wanting to enjoy is life, Jaehyun thought, yet he knew that Lucas wasn't quite there yet. He still had his phases in which he still was unable to control himself. Not being able to control oneself, mixed with young people who were buzzed was a delicate matter. He did trust Lucas, though. He knew, that he would never hurt anyone on purpose and saw how much he tried to fit in and adjust to his life with them.
“No need to worry, he has a good day.”, Taeyongs voice appeared next to Jaehyun, who turned towards his friend and smiled mildly.
“He seems to be in a good mood.”, Jaehyun said, when looking at Lucas again, who was now standing amidst a group of people, probably telling some story or jokes. The music and people way too loud for him to focus on his hearing ability to listen to their exact conversation.
“Yeah, he kinda invited half of the town, as it seems.”, Taeyong said, scratching his neck
“I'm honestly surprised to see you down here anyway. You don't like parties.”, Jaehyun stated, his head turning towards his friend again who shrugged his shoulders, his eyes scanning the people in front of them.
“Just wanted to check in what's going on in my house. I'll probably go upstairs soon.”, he said after finishing his quick scan and look back at Jaehyun whose eyes were still on him, totally aware of the fact that he wasn't telling him something yet again.
Jaehyun let his eyes wander back at the room, watching how two of the local detectives came in together, where they immediately got greeted by some others. He watched how the girl took just a minimal step back, as soon as another girl stood next to her. The human didn't even notice it, just continuing with her talking but Jaehyun saw how the girl shifted every time another person was close to her. For a second, he looked back to Taeyong, whose eyes were focused on her as well.
Just as he looked back at her, her eyes met theirs and for a quick second, he felt something. A feeling in his stomach, a small burning, a signal. His muscles immediately tensed and he felt how his mouth got dry.
“Do you think she knows?”, Jaehyun whispered to Taeyong, whose muscles were clearly strained just like his.
“The question isn't if she knows. It's why and what exactly she knows.”, Taeyong answered and kept on looking back at the girl, “I'll be upstairs. Would you mind coming up later?”
Jaehyun looked at Taeyong for a second and nodded before his friend let the girl go an quickly walked the stairs up.
When he turned away, the girl and her friend were gone. He sighed and squinted his eyes, looking at his hands.
Taeyong closed the door to his bedroom behind him, quickly running up to his desk to search in the documents he so carefully made the last months, when things started to change in the town. He knew, something was about to happen. He felt it in his guts ever since that day when Lucas had to join them. Something happened that night – not only a transition but something more. He felt how a ritual took place inside a house somewhere in town, he just couldn't figure out where exactly. He searched the whole night but couldn't smell or hear anything at all in the middle of the town, which was more than suspicious to him, keeping in mind that his senses were so old and trained, he could hear noises hundreds of miles away. That's when he knew there had to be something non-human going on. Something magical.
Which was technically impossible, because the last real witch who lived in town has died and as of his knowledge she didn't have any children. It wasn't usual for witches to hold a ritual on some random night, no, they need to plan their rituals carefully and with months, if not years, of preparation, especially if it's a ritual to welcome a new member to their family.
He knew, that witches weren't evil and usually he got along with them for the past decades but the way the ritual took place and the fact that they used magic to shield their ritual from them made him think about the motives. It backed up his feeling that something was about to happen, something that the witches know about. Yet, he didn't know where they come from. They could've used magic for weeks to hide themselves from him and his friends. But why would they do this?
“Damn it.”, he whispered under gritted teeth, his eyes scanning his documentations from the past months, trying to figure out what they're planning. The fact, that the girl lived in town for years before made him feeling unwell. If they were somewhat able to hide her powers and family history to him, they could be up for more.
He sighed and walked up to his window, facing the front yard, watching cars pull up and people walk in. His gaze quickly caught two familiar figures in the dim light and saw how they slowly walked up to their entrance. Taeyong followed the movements of Ava for as long as he could, watching how she looked over the yard, while talking to her brother before they stepped inside.
A mild knock on his door made him look away, waiting for the person to walk into his room.
“She's a witch, isn't she?”, Jaheyun said and looked over at Taeyong, who let himself down on a chair.
“I think so, yeah.”, Taeyong sighed once more and watched how Jaehyun leaned himself against the door frame.
“She's talking to Ava.”, he added and the look in Taeyong's eyes changed for a quick second, before he closed his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts.
“Well, that's nothing we should be worried about.”, Taeyong finally answered and clicked his tongue. “You should probably know, that Ava doesn't have magical powers.”, he added and looked at Jaehyun, who just shrugged his shoulders.
“She could have, though. I didn't know that girl had them as well.”, Jaehyun said while letting his eyes wander through the room to keep them busy.
“She doesn't have powers.”, Taeyong stated once more, his voice firm as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Maybe they aren't active, yet.”, Jaehyun tried to argue but as soon as he saw Taeyong's look he shut his mouth.
Taeyong knew that Ava couldn't be a witch but for now he didn't want Jaehyun to know more than he needed to at this point. He saw how Jaehyun rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Fine. I still think it's weird, that she's coming back to town just after the witches activate their powers.”, Jaehyun added.
“Of course it's problematic. Just try to keep an eye out for her. Especially tonight.”, Taeyong said and looked away, trying to put the memories back in the corner of his head.
“I will.”, Jaehyun said and as soon as Taeyong looked back at him, his friend turned around and walked back downstairs.
Taeyong sighed, standing up to look outside the window, before resting his head on the cold glass. His mind was way too loud for him to focus on one single thought or sense. It was a mixture of emotions, covering his thoughts like a thick mist. He needed to find out what was happening in the middle of the town, before his family got alerted. It was enough, that Jaehyun already sensed his uneasiness. He didn't need all of them to sense the distress he was going through. It was his task, his purpose, to keep the peace for as long as possible and he knew he couldn't risk any danger to it.
He closed his eyes for a second, trying to structure his thoughts. If Jaehyun sensed something, it wouldn't take long for the others to feel the same, especially now with that witch in their usually well guarded house. He needed to know what her motives were. Yet, he knew he couldn't underestimate her. Even when she was young and got her powers recently, he knew what they could do. Sooner or later he needed to talk to her. His eyes opened, fixating a small figure running out of the house. He saw how Ava practically stormed out, just to stand still for a second, her face turning towards the forest next to her. He furrowed his brows, her eyes were red, her blood pulsating rapidly in her body. Taeyong watched how she closed her eyes for a quick second, before walking straight forward into the woods.
He waited for a moment, looking after her shadow, which was quickly disappearing in the dark, where not even his eyes could follow. He could clearly see how upset she was. He sighed, realizing how stupid it was for her to come into this house.
Taeyong walked outside of his room, were he was greeted by Johnny standing next to Jaehyun in the small hallway upstairs.
Johnny's head was rested against the wall, his eyes squinted together, while Jaehyun just stood there next to him, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes wandering towards Taeyong, who could see clearly how Johnny's breath hitched and how he tried to keep his emotions in control.
He thought about saying something, but he couldn't think of anything which might be helpful for Johnny. Noone could actually help him with his emotions or guilt. It was something he needed to figure out by himself, so Taeyong decided to leave them behind, making his way downstairs, quickly disappearing through the front door without someone noticing him.
He looked around, trying to make Ava's figure out but he couldn't. He furrowed his brows, following the path he saw her going at through his window. The music slowly disappeared behind him, making it easier for him to hear and try to find the girl. He stopped in his tracks when he suddenly heard noises somewhere around him. Footsteps. More than one. He knew the steps didn't belong to a human as he started to follow them, his heart starting to beat faster as he heard more noise moving further away.
Taeyong's breath started to hitch, his eyes scanning every inch in front of him, jumping from point to point, trying to get her tracks. His senses were on edge, he felt his body burning as he rushed through the woods in his supernatural speed, trying to follow the scent, which was already burned inside of him. He felt her emotions wandering through the air. He could clearly feel fear surrounding her, paired by fast, swift footsteps.
He heard bricks cracking under someone's steps, letting his legs carry him towards the sounds. He could hear her short breaths. His ears could hear how her heart beat rapidly in her chest, he could feel the terror running through her. Taeyong felt his body tense, his mind going blank when he heard the scream. A scream, so full of terror it felt like his blood froze in his veins.
His eyes scanned the surrounding, trying to see anything in the dark, which usually wasn't a problem but something felt off. It was, like he couldn't quite see as clearly as he was used to, as if his vision was blurred, which was impossible. He continued to run through the woods, slowly losing the sound of her breath and heartbeat, which both got quieter with each second passing by.
But then she saw her. It felt like he choked on air, seeing how the girl lied on the leaves, covered in dust. He looked around, a feeling growing inside of him. His emotions swirled around in his body, unsure about what exactly he was feeling at all. He was afraid – in fear. The prominent bite marks on her neck were in a deep red, blood still drooling out of them.
He looked at her body, how her eyes were closed, her skin looked pale. For a quick second he thought she might be dead. Fear spread through his veins, closing his eyes trying to concentrate on his senses. He sighed in relief, when his ears could hear a slow heartbeat.
Taeyong looked around once more. He knew he wasn't alone. He could feel something lurking in the woods around him, carefully watching him. But there was no time. He couldn't go and search for the one who did this.
With a quick motion he picked the nearly lifeless body up, pressing her against his chest. He looked at her fragile body, which was barely moving. Her eyes were sunken, skin pale due to the blood loss. He could see her veins through the thin, white skin, yet her face looked like it was covered in shadows.
He pressed his lips together as he rushed through the woods, leaving the lurking shadows as far behind him as he could.HIs mind went completely wild, thousands of thoughts and screams spinning through his head, feeling like it was about to explode at any seocnd.
The house was no option to put her, obviously, with that many humans around. Nobody could see her. He knew, that it wouldn't take long for his family to smell her blood through the air. He knew, they'd come fast.
His legs carried him back near the house, a small entrance covered by trees and bushes leading right underneath the earth, into the crypt of his house. He breathed the muddy, thick air underground in and couldn't remember the last time he went in there, usually preferring to stay upstairs.
He rushed inside a big room, covered in dust and spiderwebs, laying her down on the stone table in the middle.
“What the fuck.”, he heard Jaehyun whisper behind him, his eyes wide in shock, “Who?”, he asked looking at Taeyong.
Taeyong was suddenly angry – no, he was furious. “I told you to not let her out of your sight! How could you let her wander through the woods alone?!”, his voice was deep as he felt how his blood started to pulsate in his veins, turning the skin under his now shining eyes black., “This is your fault!” he hissed, trying is very best not to fall into a rage.
“I- Listen. If I knew she'd go into the forest I would've followed her, I thought-”, Jaehyun tried to explain himself, knowing that he had to calm Taeyong down. His own voice not as steady as he wanted it to be, his eyes fixating on the body in front of him.
“Clearly, you're unable to actually use your brain!”, Taeyong growled, grabbing Jaehyun by the throat, pushing him against a cold-stoned wall, a small choking sound escaping Jaehyuns throat.
“I'm giving you one simple order and now she's dying and it's your fault. Her blood is on your hands, Jaehyun.”, Taeyong's emotions covered his thoughts, making it nearly impossible for him to think clearly.
“Y-You're hurting me.”, Jaehyun gasped, his hands on top of Taeyong's, trying to fight him off but his strength wasn't even near Taeyong's.
“What's going on?”, Johnny asked as soon as he came rushing into the room, trying to get Taeyong's hands off Jaehyun's neck, before even realizing what was going on.
Within a second, Taeyong suddenly snapped back into reality and out of his rage, when he heard more people saying his name. He let go of Jaehyun's neck, turning towards his family, who was staring at them before their gazes went down to the table, eyes growing wide in shock.
“Oh my God.”, Johnny's voice was shaking as he stumbled through them, falling on his knees next to the table, his hands desperately grabbing for hers. His eyes scanning her body until they met the marks on her neck. He gulped, feeling how his stomach turned upside down.
“What happened?”, Johnny whispered under his breath, his eyes still fixating on the girl's neck.
Taeyong took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second, waiting for his rage to pass. He looked at Jaehyun, who was now standing in the corner of the room, his eyes on Ava as well. He could see the shock covering his face now.
“I found her in the woods.”, Taeyong answered and looked down at Johnny, who started to shake. He put a firm hand on his shoulder, trying to distract him from his urges, “I don't know who attacked her.”, he added, his eyes focusing on her chest and heartbeat, which was getting weaker with any second passing by.
“She's dying.”, Johnny whispered under his breath in pain and strain, his eyes still glued to the girl in front of him. “This is my fault.”, he choked, closing his eyes for a moment.
“It's not your fault.”, Taeyong tried to comfort him, his voice slowly softening.
Taeyong's mind screamed at him, fighting over what he should do next. He felt like his chest got pressed together, barely able to breathe. But he couldn't show any weakness now. He couldn't allow it. He took a deep breath, letting go of Johnny's shoulder. It was more than enough, that Johnny had to see his emotional outburst before.
“She's dying.”, Johnny repeated, his hands still on hers
Taeyong looked over her face, how her skin now lost every bit of color it had left. Her lips were chapped and blue. He was aware of the fact, that there were only two possible outcomes and he was sure he wouldn't be able to handle both.
“Please, Taeyong, you need to do something.”, he heard Johnny plead, his eyes locking with his for a moment. He saw fear and desperation so clearly in Johnny's eyes, it felt like something hit him right in the stomach. Taeyong hesitated for another second before he walked up to stand behind her head.
Taeyong looked down at her once more, his fingers now carefully stroking over her dirt-covered hair. He pressed his eyes together before burying his fangs in his wrist, biting down until the thick, dark red blood ran down his skin, feeling how Johnny watched his movements closely.
He knew it was wrong to take the decision from her, to put this life on her but at least it was a life. He took another breath, whispering a soft “I’m so sorry” before putting his bleeding wrist on her opened lips, letting his blood run into her mouth just before she took her last breath and started her transition.
・.。*†*。.・◆・.。*†*。.・◆・.。*†*。.・◆・.。*†*。.・
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Debt and Unreality at a British University
Most of the time, when journalists or researchers ask students in Britain about their “concerns” and their “experience”, they’re not looking for answers like: ‘I don’t feel real.’ Because, well, what do you do with that?
A friend of mine sat on a stiff leather couch in the hallway, tiredly scrolling. She’d just clocked out. For nine grand, we were getting about 7 hours of teaching a week. The rest of the time, of course, was supposed to be devoted to reading all the material we’d be discussing in seminars or attending lectures on. But she was working part-time at a Pizza Express. The maintenance loans only stretch so far, especially with rent around here. And you have to catch a bus to get to campus. Lots of us, our parents helped out. But if the ‘rents can’t or won’t pay, you’re a little stuffed.
In 2019, it was reported that over half of young people are now attending university. These figures represent the fulfilment of a target set by Tony Blair at a Labour Party conference in 1999, during his first term as Prime Minister. In July of the year before, Blair’s parliament passed the Teaching and Higher Education Act, introducing tuition fees for universities across the UK. In 1990, around 25% of young people stayed in some form of full-time education beyond the age of 18. Today, most young Britons will have experienced the presumption that they’re a university student and frequently, the expectation.
Yesterday, the University of Warwick’s official Twitter account shared a link to a blog post on how to ‘relieve intense stress in 60-seconds.’ The post was written by a current student.
In 1962, towards the end of Harold Macmillan’s Conservative premiership, “ordinarily resident” students were exempted from tuition fees and made eligible for a means-tested maintenance grant. Shortly after the Teaching and Higher Education Act of 1998, maintenance grants were replaced with loans. In 2004, the cap on tuition fees rose to £3,000 and by 2010, it had risen to its current rate of around £9,000. There were protests over that last increase, of course. The protests were in 2010 and I went to university in 2017. I now owe the British government around £27,000 for tuition and around £10,000 for maintenance. If you’re going this year, you’ll end up owing roughly the same - more, if your family earns less than mine.
You hear things. “Oh, they’re antidepressants.” A friend with a weird flatmate who never leaves their room. Oddly intense desperation eking out of drunk students from some corner of a smoking-area. Vaguely recognisable names and their time of death. “Honestly, just couldn’t be bothered to get up.” An acquaintance from your course drops out and moves back home. Barely concealed frustration in your professor’s tone, hushed rants in faculty corridors. And you notice other things. Admissions of 'suicidal ideation' and life-crises on a FaceBook page which is supposed to be about students sending anonymous messages of romantic interest. Sarcastic tweets about ‘mental health dogs’ and ‘mindfulness seminars’ have become cliché. A routinely empty chair in your seminar room. Strained eyes staring into the middle-ground, silence attending the teacher’s question. Dysfunction as normality. Your diagnosis in your bio next to where you go to uni.
In 2014, it was reported that one in seven full-time students also work full-time. The same report put the proportion of full-time students working part-time at a third. A number of reasons were given as to why they were doing this. I wonder, when they look at their bank accounts, or their accommodation, or their text on sociology, on Latin American history, on virology, existentialism, do they feel they have a handle on things? "I’m a full-time barista, full-time student." "Hello, I’m an impossibility."
For students, the British university is an experiment in unreality. Am I a customer or a pupil? Am I demanding a service from a business or being educated by my elders for my own good? Will it be my fault for selecting a ‘non-applicable’ degree or their fault for selling it to me? Everything is optional, even when it isn’t. You spend all week pouring over the text but feel embarrassed to correct or question the people who clearly didn’t because the professor doesn’t: “Don’t worry if you haven’t done the reading.” Next time, you just put in a sentence or two to fill one of the many silences, improvising off of what others have said, pretending you read whatever it was. Then, of course, coursework is set assessing your knowledge of the curriculum. You spend a couple of days stressed out, hoping to turn your lack of knowledge into a scholarly tone of caution and hedged bets. You go to a careers fair, a student union election, a party, a debate. Nothing sticks, tomorrow is the same day. Your teachers are devotees of a faith but you have to fill the ranks of their picket against the Church. The protestors mass, fill the campus with tension and noise, and then, in a couple of weeks, you’re sitting in the same seminar room with the same professor doing the same thing. You have to think surprisingly hard to remember that past, fugitive now in an opaque present. The only thing that changes is that a few new buildings emerge from their shells of scaffolding. When you miss almost five weeks, there is an email or two. One time, because of your chronic truancy, you get some mark or something, some strike against your name. Nothing happens. In fact, you find it incredibly hard to even find the place where that warning is actually recorded, displayed. You graduate with a First.
Recently, there has been a steady trickle of data, news items, and reports, gradually exposing the rate of suicide in higher education in the UK. It came to a head last week, as a Conservative peer, Lord Lucas, called for a bill which would give British universities a duty of care in the mental health outcomes of their students. Lord Lucas’ plea represents the mainstream of a movement by aggrieved parents of young people who took their lives whilst at university. One of these young people was Benjamin Murray, a 19-year-old in his first year studying English Literature at Bristol University. Shortly before falling to his death, Murray was told by the university that he would have to leave. A local newspaper reports that, according to sources at the university, his attendance was ‘sporadic’ and he had ‘failed to hand in expected work’. Discussing interactions he had with Murray which revealed that the undergraduate was suffering with an anxiety disorder, senior tutor Ben Gunter remarks that: 'A large number of students we see have varying levels of anxiety.’
I mean, look at it this way. You’re saddled with a debt, a sizeable debt. It makes you nervous just looking at all the zeroes. But this moment of selling your soul was planned, it was expected from the beginning. And there are voices all around you that keep coming up and whispering in your ear. It’s just a tax on spending after education. No-one’s expecting you to pay it back. It all gets forgiven when you hit 40. What’s a person to do in that situation? The same government that portrayed the national debt as an existential threat is the same government that turns around and says: Don’t worry. Does debt matter or doesn’t it? Is this real or isn’t it?
People are screaming, again. It's 5:35 in the afternoon. Earliest you’ve heard it this week. They’re really drunk. Or on something. You’re only dimly aware of it, really. It’s ubiquitous, it’s ambiance. Dimly, you wonder if they realise how loud they are being, how obvious their public intoxication is. You perk up when you recognise a few voices. People on your course - you’ve got an essay due tomorrow at noon. Down the ages, goes the cliché, students are drunk and reckless with deadlines. But you’ve been wondering whether it really matters if you get a 1:1 instead of a 2:1. Don’t they inflate the numbers, anyway? And besides, it's experience that matters on a CV, everyone’s got a degree these days. I’d just be another idiot with a 1:1. Your flatmate drunkenly knocks on your door and you seriously consider going back on your refusal to go out tonight.
A survey of undergraduates in seven universities in England reportedly found very high rates of dangerous drinking, with 41% identified as ‘hazardous drinkers’. It also considers that one in five students were likely to be diagnosable as alcoholic.
Every weekend students give in to the unreality. I know what you're thinking. Of course, young people have always experimented with substances, acted like they were invulnerable, ignored consequences. But many of the young people before us were unfamiliar with this level of unreality, this level of confusion. So the recklessness intensifies in those claustrophobic spaces that remain open to us.
I have deadlines, right now. A few days to go. I’ve been looking at the news, all the statistics on internships and jobs falling through for graduates and young people, in general. The worst hit. I’ve been talking to my friends, moaning about the job hunt, the rejections and the no-replies. Anecdotes tumble down the grape-vine of graduates from respected universities not even being able to get a part-time job at a supermarket because of the number of applicants or whatever. A couple of my friends are intermitting due to mental health problems. When I was home, before the most recent lockdown, a number of my friends and I worked at a pub. I’m back at uni and they’re still there. Class of 2020, all of us. Of course, they like it, it’s fine. But where do we go from here?
Don’t ask me, mate, I’ve got deadlines.
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Promises Not Kept Part 21
Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.
Part 21: Everything seems alright if only just for a moment.
It was so easy to block out all the noise from the reception below. Once the door of the bedroom was closed, Tommy and Leah cast aside the outside world. In that space and in that moment, they were the only things remaining.
Leah hastily worked at undoing the buttons of his suit. Her worries about keeping their guests waiting weren’t even in the back of her mind. She simply wanted to express her physical love for her husband.
But Tommy set the pace. His fingers wrapped around her wrist to slow her down. Kissing her languidly, he murmured affectionate words against her lips. “So beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”
“Please…” Leah gasped softly.
He didn’t relent and kept his steady pace. Taking his time, making her wait. “Turn around.”
She did so without hesitation. A soft sigh slipped off her lips when she felt his hands carefully undoing the ties of her dress. Every touch was lasting, burning through the fabric and just kissing her skin. Her toes curled when she felt Tommy’s breath on her bare shoulder. His lips grazing over the skin. He paused beside her ear. Playfully tugging at her lobe with his teeth before whispering to her.
“You’re mine, Leah.” His deep voice had her reeling with lust. “No other man will ever touch you this way again. Only I’ll get to see you like this. Undone.”
“Tom,” She whimpered. “Please don’t tease me any longer, please.”
“Say it.”
Leah knew what he wanted her to say. “I’m yours, Tommy. Forever.”
In a flash, he grabbed her by the waist and turned her so she was facing him again. But this time, she stopped him before he could kiss her.
“Now you say it.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Say it, Tommy.” His lips parted, small pants of want all he could muster. “Say it.”
He groaned with desire and pulled her flush against him. “I’m yours.”
“No other woman will touch you the way I touch you. Make you feel the way I do.” She ghosted her lips over his jaw causing a sharp jolt of electricity to travel down his spine.
“Yes.” He responded. It was difficult to hide the breathiness in his voice. He was too far gone to even attempt it.
“Then take what’s yours.”
Tommy didn’t need to be asked twice. He picked her up and brought her to the bed they shared. He pressed into her, letting her feel his weight. One hand hitched her thigh up to his hip, simply rocking together as they kissed.
Leah was dizzy with desire. For as many times as he’d kissed her before, somehow the feeling still overwhelmed her.
Tommy pushed himself up so he could get rid of the rest of his clothing. After he tugged his undershirt over his head, Leah saw the fresh bandages that still covered his side. Though it had been some time since his confrontation with Alfie on the beach, he was still healing.
Wordlessly, his wife grazed her fingers down his abdomen. Just barely touching the edges of the white gauze. She traced back up, dipping between the planes of his ribs and flattening her hand over his chest. Her palm resting over his tattoo. “This is the end of this, Tom.” She whispered. “No more. I can’t take you getting hurt again.”
He didn’t look away from her even if he couldn’t outright promise her he would never get harmed again. There were far too many people who would love to get a crack at him. “I’ve got more important things to focus on.” He responded, hoping it was enough to keep her satisfied on their wedding day.
A soft smile spread across her face. “Like?” She prompted.
“Like raising a family with you.” He lowered down, leaning on his elbows. “How’s that sound, aye?” His nose brushed over her jaw, his hair tickling her cheek.
She squirmed with want and looped her arms around his neck. “That sounds nice.”
He drew back to give her a devilish smirk. “Then I’ve got to get you pregnant, Mrs. Shelby.” He replied coyly.
His wife giggled and chewed on her lip. “Cheeky boy.” She accused before attacking him with kisses.
~~~~~~
As they attempted to reassume their put-together look of wedded bliss, Leah and Tommy lingered in the bedroom.
“So I was thinking about things we could do while you’re taking a break.” She said from her spot at the vanity, trying to fix her hair as best she could.
Tommy was sat on the bed putting on his cufflinks and arm garter. “Yeah, any ideas?”
“Well, I know how much Charlie would love to take the horses out. Find somewhere to picnic. I think you ought to take him out riding at least every other day. It would make him so happy.”
“Yeah, alright, I will.” He nodded in agreement. Spending time with the horses and his son sounded relaxing enough.
“And of course you can go hunting. Maybe even try to golf? Sort of posh but…” She laughed softly and shrugged. “You owe it to yourself to relax.”
The idea made Tommy absolutely sick to his stomach. But he faked a complacent look as he stood up. “Be nice to try new things.” Of course, he wanted to try new things. Wanted to try his hand in politics. Wanted to show those rich bastards that a workingman could speak just as eloquently as they could. Wanted to see changes he pushed for put into action.
But he wasn’t meant to be doing anything while on his holiday.
Tommy stood behind Leah at the vanity, resting his hands on her shoulders. She glanced up at him in the mirror. “I can’t tell you how happy I am right now.” She touched his hand. “Not only being married but…but being able to see you relax for the first time well…ever.”
The smile on his face was detached. Still, he bent down to kiss her cheek. “Take your time getting ready, I’ll stall for you.” He murmured and went to leave the bedroom. He was surely going to be sick if he had to keep talking about the holiday he was dreading.
~~~~~~~~~
And things were okay for about a month. Tommy and Leah bickered a little bit about the duration of his holiday. Eventually, she convinced him to wait out the summer. Three months of doing nothing but relaxing. No work. No business. No politics. Nothing.
Tommy was grateful for the memories he’d made in that first month. Charlie and Leah kept him busy enough that he didn’t feel like he was sitting around and twiddling his thumbs.
Together they took long rides out into the pastures. Charlie’s little pony tied up alongside Tommy’s gelding. Sometimes they went out to the stream that fed into a crystal clear pond or up to the glens to find the perfect meadow.
On shorter trips, they took Cyril along who liked to romp around the tall grass, chasing butterflies and rabbits in the thicket.
On a particularly sunny afternoon, the three, plus Cyril, went out to the pond. It was a warm day so they decided to take Charlie so he could swim. For a brief moment, Tommy was serene.
He lounged in the grass by the pond, legs outstretched, resting on his elbows. Cyril was sat near him, the mastiff paying close attention to Leah and Charlie. Leah had hitched up her skirt so she could wade into the water with Charlie who was swimming around like a little frog. He kept chirping at her to watch as he practiced ducking his head underwater. Leah praising the little guppy every time he resurfaced with a triumphant grin.
The hazy summer day felt like a romantic dream. The opening of a novel or a play. When everything was just perfect and airy. The mesmerizing blues and greens of the lush forest sparkling with mystique. The sun reflecting off the water and shining a façade. The laughter of his son and wife sounded too melodious. They appeared to glow in the summer shine.
Something in Tommy’s gut twitched. His forehead creased and he looked down at his hand resting in the dewy grass. It was shaking.
~~~~~~~~~
“Frances?” Leah called into the other room.
“Yes, Mrs. Shelby?” The maid entered the doorway.
“Is Tommy still out fishing?” She checked the clock a second time. Her husband had been due to be home half an hour ago. He’d promised that they would all have lunch together on the lawn. When he left, he seemed to be in a daze but Leah assumed he would keep his promise and arrive home at the time they agreed on.
“No, Mrs. Shelby. I haven’t seen him arrive home. Should I ask one of the stable boys to go and fetch him?” Frances asked politely.
“No need.” Leah stood and set aside the letter she was writing. “I’ll go get some fresh air, it’s not too long of a walk.”
“It’s a bit chilly out, let me fetch your coat.”
“Oh,” Leah stopped her before she left. “fetch one of Tommy’s riding coats, I don’t want to get any of mine dirty. It’s awfully damp out there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
~~~~~~~~
The walk to the pond took Leah around the back of Arrow House’s property and into the trails. She often took walks on them with Charlie, so she was familiar with the route. Although it wasn’t raining out, there was a heavy damp feeling to the air. The sun had barely made an appearance all day but Tommy still insisted on going out. After all, he was meant to be relaxing.
But Leah could tell he was on edge. Strangely, even more so than when they were all under threat from Luca Changretta. It obviously seemed backward, but Polly mentioned the possibility of a change in Tommy’s demeanor. So Leah did her best to watch for the signs and act accordingly. He was entering his third month of holiday. But Leah couldn’t see how that would contribute to his uneasy behavior. How could anyone on a break get so anxious?
Leah arrived at the pond and found Tommy still there. He noticed her coming but didn’t stand to greet her. His eyes stared out across the marshy pond, glazed over in deep thought.
“Caught anything?” She asked softly.
His head barely shook to the side to answer.
Leah touched his shoulder and cleared her throat. There was tension radiating from him but she couldn’t understand why. He was simply sitting there, sitting by a peaceful pond, no enemies holding guns at his head. No danger in sight. “You’ve gone quiet the last few days. I’ve been worried.”
The muscles in his jaw flexed but he still didn’t say anything.
“Tommy, if there’s something bothering you…”
He heard it before she did. And he heard it differently than she did.
Planes.
German planes.
German bombers.
Tommy reacted quickly. He grabbed Leah by the waist and dropped them both to the ground. Tucking his head under his arm, he braced for the impact.
Leah hardly could react in time. “Tommy!” She pushed him off. “Tommy, they’re just hunters!”
His ears stopped ringing when he heard another gunshot. Then another accompanied by the cheerful rejoicing of hunters and a bark of hounds. Slowly, he released his hold on Leah.
She stood up in disbelief. “What the hell was that all about?” She demanded and took in her now mud-covered dress.
Dazed, Tommy looked around and then up at her. He tilted onto his side and remained there for a second. “I heard planes.” He whispered.
Leah looked up at the gray sky. “Well, I hardly think there are any planes flying that low.”
He shook his head. “Bombers. I heard bombers.” The soldier stood up and held out his hand. “I’ve got the shakes now.” He’d known for weeks now. Couldn’t seem to get control of it even when he dug his fingernails into his palm or sat on his hands. Still, he had yet to tell Leah about it.
His wife took his hand, resting it gently over her palm. Indeed, his hand was trembling violently beyond the man’s own control. “I’ll call the doctor.” Her irritated tone softened. “He’ll be able to see you on Monday. Maybe sooner if you need it.”
“Don’t need a doctor.” He muttered and began to pack up his fishing gear.
“I’ve heard about this, men who came back from the war suffer…”
Tommy cut her off. “Don’t need a doctor.” He repeated in an icy tone and turned his back to her.
Leah wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms over her chest. “So now you’re not going to listen to me at all?” She kept at him even when he gathered everything and started walking down the trail. “Even though I’m your wife and I’ve got every right to be worried about you?”
His strides were much longer than hers and he didn’t slow his pace. Instead, she had to jog a few steps to keep up with him. “Leah, I’m not having this conversation. Forget about it.”
“Forget about it? I’ve heard you up all hours of the night. You drink all day and all night. You’re always angry!” She snapped and slogged her way through the muddy path to catch up. “Charlie’s terrified you’ll be upset with him. He asks after you because he has no clue what’s gotten into you. Neither have I!”
“Leah…” Tommy spoke her name in a warning tone but didn’t stop or slow down.
“I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks, being able to relax and live without the worry of being killed. But now you’ve changed so much and you won’t even talk to me!” She wouldn’t relent. Too many times she’d sat back and stayed quiet. No more. Polly had given her more than enough wisdom on how to deal with a Shelby man at his worst.
So she stopped in the middle of the path. “Thomas Michael Shelby you fucking stop and speak to me this instant!” She shouted.
Tommy’s gait stuttered. It was so seldom that Leah raised her voice that it caught him off guard. But it didn’t relieve the building tension inside. So he kept walking and left her there.
~~~~~~~~
It was a good thing Arrow House had so many rooms. Because Leah did not want to be in the same room as Tommy for at least the rest of the day. She was already deciding which room to sleep in because damned if she wanted to sleep in the same bed after what he’d done that morning.
To spare Charlie, she did her best to conceal her anger. There was no need for the little boy to worry about both of his parents.
But when Charlie asked where Tommy was, Leah instructed him to go find him. She stayed behind, tidying up his room so she wouldn’t have to see her husband.
Not much time passed before Leah heard glass shattering. She got up and hurried into the hall, worried Charlie might’ve fallen and hurt himself. Instead, the little boy was rushing upstairs in tears.
“Something’s wrong with daddy.” He whimpered.
“Oh dear.” Leah mumbled under her breath and scooped Charlie up. “He’s alright, poppet, he’s just…sad.” She walked downstairs to find Mary so she could watch after the trembling child.
Another loud noise came from the big room and when Leah stormed in, she was met with a disaster. Self-Destructive chaos that Tommy inflicted on himself. Several glasses had shattered on the ground. Some books and papers were knocked off the desk that Tommy was using to try and stay upright.
No matter how much he drank, he did have a limit. And it appeared he had reached that limit about three glasses of whiskey ago.
Not noticing Leah’s entrance, Tommy fell to his knees, gripping his hand. He let out a sob and hunched over. Such a powerful man with such an air of confidence had resulted in nothing but a drunken mess on the floor.
It stabbed Leah right in the heart to see him in such a state. She didn’t think he was stupid or being silly. He was hurting.
“Tommy, what’ve you done?” She sighed and picked her way over the broken glass to get to him. She knelt down and reached for his hand.
“Lee…” He groaned and lurched forward a little.
She let him lean on her shoulder and grabbed his injured hand. The broken glass had sliced open his palm and blood was beginning to trickle down his pale skin. “Goodness.”
“Doesn’t hurt.” He slurred and slumped against her shoulder. “Can’t feel it. Can’t feel anything.”
Leah pinched his arm making him yelp. “You feel that? That’s your bloody wife about to take care of you.” She said firmly. “Now sit still and wait. Don’t be touching anything else.”
With some help, Tommy leaned against the back of his desk, legs outstretched and slouching like a petulant child. But he obeyed and stayed put while Leah grabbed a cloth to apply to the cut.
The two of them sat surrounded by glass in the rich carpet. The sunlight was starting to fade and they were left in darkness soon enough.
“M’sorry, Lee,” Tommy whispered after his wife grabbed a bit of gauze to wrap around his hand.
“Don’t apologize. You can apologize to your son in the morning when you’re sober.” She replied tersely.
He nodded sloppily and let his eyes slide shut, his head resting against his desk. “D’you still love me?”
Leah scoffed. “That’s a ridiculous thing to ask, Thomas. And now’s not the time.”
“Do you?” He didn’t seem to hear how peeved off she was.
“Of course I still fucking love you.” She huffed. “If I didn’t love you then I wouldn’t be here putting your pieces back together, now would I? If I didn’t love you then I’d’ve taken your Bentley and disappeared. But I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah.”
Finishing with a knot in the gauze, she let Tommy’s hand go limp in his lap. “I don’t know what goes through that big brain of yours.” Her eyes were steady on him. “But I know that you’re hurting. And you can’t continue to live this way. Maybe I’m not the person who can help but I need you to know that I’m always here for you.”
He grumbled in response and leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and cradled him close.
“It’s okay to be hurt, Tommy.” She soothed. “It’s okay to cry, it’s okay to have emotions. It’s okay not to be okay.”
He shuddered against her, the substances in his blood causing him to lose the calm demeanor he was so proud to keep even in the worst of situations. Years of suppressing emotions had finally caught up to him. He was able to ignore them in the fast-paced life he kept. The life or death situations keeping the dark thoughts at bay.
But after three months of living quietly, he couldn’t continue pushing them away. The things that haunted him, creeping over his shoulder and whispering in his ear, were now standing in front of him and screaming in his face. The men he watched die, the earth burying him, the song they all sang together, the sound of the enemies approaching. The men he had killed. Grace’s death. The moment he realized Leah and Charlie had been taken.
Tommy’s fingers curled around Leah’s shoulders, gripping onto her. “It’s too much.”
“Sh, let me take it then. Let me handle it. For a moment.” She whispered and pressed her lips to his hair. “Give all the thoughts, all the burdens to me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
After reassuring Charlie that everything was okay, Leah got Tommy to bed. She practically had to undress him; he was still thoroughly fucked up by the whiskey. But eventually she got him under the covers and he passed out seconds after hitting the pillow. Before long, he was snoring away.
Leah stayed up reading, her hand gently rubbing Tommy’s back as he slept. She was emotionally exhausted after the day. It scared her seeing him so out of control. But there was little she could do to put him back together. That was up to him. All she could was be there for him and try to support him.
With a sigh, she realized she wasn’t really absorbing any of the words on the page. Instead, she had been reading the same paragraph over and over again while her mind ran amok. She put the book aside and reached over to turn off the lamp. With the room swathed in darkness, she was left alone with her thoughts.
She knew she was pregnant. Had known for almost a month. There were suspicions when her period was late and then Polly confirmed it for her. Leah was ecstatic to tell Tommy, but couldn’t bring herself to. Not when she noticed the decline in his health and behavior. What would another child do to him? Scare him? Anger him? Cause him more stress? Anxiety?
He seemed so unstable; there was no way of knowing. And yet, Leah knew that she needed to tell him soon. Before she began to show and he accused her of lying.
She also needed to go to the doctor. But Polly warned that the second she did, Tommy would know. He knew all the doctors in Birmingham and they all answered to him whether they liked it or not.
Leah rolled over and wrapped her arms around Tommy, pressing her forehead against his back. “Tommy, I’m pregnant.” She whispered. She wanted to hear the words, test them out on her tongue. Even though she knew he was out cold, panic bubbled inside. What if he suddenly waked and demanded to know what she was talking about?
She waited for a beat, but Tommy’s breathing didn’t stutter and he didn’t stir.
“I’m pregnant.”
Nothing. The whiskey had done its job of knocking him out for at least another few hours.
Leah lifted her head and pressed a kiss to the bullet wound on his shoulder blade. “I’m pregnant with our child, Tom.” She whispered. Once she said it, she couldn’t stop. “Polly thinks it’s a girl. I want to go to the doctor and hear the heartbeat. Think about it. A sister for Charlie. A beautiful little girl with your eyes. She’ll be here soon. Soon enough.” She swallowed and rested her head back onto the pillow, her arms withdrawing from Tommy’s waist. “I’m pregnant.” She said aloud one more time before pressing a palm to her abdomen.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tommy woke up the next morning with an unbearable headache. He could hardly see for a moment and his body groaned with protest as he sat up. The bed beside him was empty and bright sunlight shone through the curtains. So he naturally assumed it was late in the morning and Leah was already up and out.
“Fuck…” He swung his legs around to press his feet to the floor. The pounding in his head was merciless as he rubbed his eyes. But he was slowly starting to remember a few things about the night before. The gauze on his hand reminded him of the glass cutting his palm. The careful application of the bandage reminding him that Leah was there to take care of him. Her gentle hand escorting him to bed. And he’d dreamed something. Something odd. Leah sitting up in bed beside him, holding a baby girl in her arms.
Strange.
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Dangerous Woman -Lucas edition
Lucas Wong || Part 3
Enjoy!
It had only been a few days since you saw Lucas again, and if felt like you were going through withdrawals. It was getting frustrating. You hardly knew him and he didn’t know anything about you either. You kept telling yourself that, but everyday it didn’t stop you from driving past his venue.
The club opened right when you got off work, around six a clock. People were already lining up, ready to dance their lives away. Even on weekdays, Danger seemed to be just as busy.
It was Thursday when you couldn’t take it anymore.
You had to see him again.
You were wearing jeans and a plain t-shirt. You didn’t look like someone who’d be coming out for a night at an elite club. Everyone else was wearing fancy clothes. You just sighed, taking your hair out from the high ponytail you had it in all day, shaking it out.
Welp, this was as good as it you were going to get.
You parked your car and waited in the short line outside and before you knew it you were stepping inside the devils lair. The music was lighter today, not as heavy against your skin as you drew closer to the railing of the balcony. There was something about this place. The dark lighting, the smell of citrus in the air, along with the seductive music playing.
The name of the venue really was perfect. Everything about this place reeked of danger, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to it. Because it all resembled Lucas. He was dangerous, but so were you. At least what you felt for him was. You let your eyes travel up the glass staircase that stopped at the darkened room you were drawn to last time. It looked empty.
You let your feet carry you up the flight of stairs, trying to damper the nerves that were building in your veins. Last time you were here, you had been so curious about the dimly lit room, but it just looked like a smaller dance floor, with a more intimate bar. There wasn’t anyone here it seemed, until a security guard stood at the doorway.
“Hey, do you have a pass to be here?”
You bit your lip. You obviously didn’t have a pass, and the guard could see that. He was just about to reach out for you, when a hand stopped him.
“It’s alright, Stephen. She’s with me.” Lucas’s voice filled your stomach with butterflies. He was wearing all black this time, and he looked devastating. His blazer shimmered slightly in the low light, along with the silver necklace that dangled against his exposed skin. How was it possible he got more beautiful each time you saw him? And here you stood in just jeans and a white shirt.
Your cheeks reddened.
You watched the guard walk away, still a little timid of you. You tried not to meet Lucas’s eyes that happened to be glued to you. “You seem to have an uncanny ability to appear and then vanish, don’t you?” You met his eyes then, and they looked to be filled with amusement, yet annoyance flashed there if only for a moment.
“Yeah—I’m sorry about that. You had been busy, and I didn’t want to bother you anymore,” you tried to sound sincere. It was all a lie though, because you did want to bother him. You wanted to bother him so much that he couldn’t help but want to touch you again.
You couldn’t seem to stay away.
Lucas kept his eyes on you, traveling over your clothes, while he stepped behind the bar. “What would you like to drink? It’s on me.”
“Oh, no. Thank you, but I probably shouldn’t drink, since I drove here.” You let out a nervous laugh. Gosh, this was ridiculous. Why had you shown up here? He obviously was busy, and having to deal with you all these times, you were probably a nuisance to him.
“I should probably get going though. Thanks for, uh, helping me out, with the guard.” Goll, you sounded absurd. You wanted to kick yourself. Instead, you stepped towards the door to leave but Lucas’s warm hand gripped your wrist, turning you around to face him.
“Don’t tell me were going to leave without tasting something sweet,” his eyes were boring into yours again, shimmering with mischief. Gosh, they were so warm and endless. Your stomach tightened at his words. Something sweet?
He watched you swallow the lump in your throat. Lucas motioned to the bar. “I’m sure I can whip something up to your liking.” Your brain wasn’t fully there as Lucas managed to pull you back to the bar, setting you down on one of the high leather chairs.
You bit your inner cheek. Lucas looked absolutely beautiful standing behind the bar, combining different liquids to make a special drink just for you. The thought alone made you shiver with delight.
“This must be what you wear on a daily bases,” Lucas nodded to your clothes. You wanted to fold into yourself with shame. He looked like a full blown dream boy, while you—well, you looked a mess.
“Ah, it’s just my work clothes,” you had to say. There wasn’t any good lying to him, besides, you hated lying. You were never really good at it anyway.
Lucas came to stand before you, with a martini glass in his long fingers. Gosh they looked amazing, those hands. They looked like they were made to hold things, and by things you obviously meant a glass or bottle of wine. Obviously. He lifted his lips into one of his dazzling smiles and you all but forgot about the drink that he placed in front of you.
“I rather like them actually. You look far better in jeans than I do.” You strongly doubted that. Lucas looked good in everything. “Oh, uhm, thank you,” you hurried to lift the drink to you lips before your mouth could say anything else.
Your tongue exploded with a delicious taste of something dark and fruity. It was the best drink you had ever tasted before. “Mmm, what is this?” You asked in utter pleasure. Lucas smiled at your approval. “It’s mostly blackberries, but there’s a bit of champagne in there as well.” You’ve only had champagne a few times, but whatever kind Lucas put in this wonderful concoction was not like any you had before.
You watched as Lucas poured himself some gin on ice, bringing the glass to dink yours. You both stared at each other while the other took sips of their drink. You wanted to ask him something, anything, but you didn’t know what. Lucas seemed like the guy who lived a luxurious life. One you obviously did not mirror.
“What do you do for work?” Lucas asked, breaking the silence. Ugh. You didn’t want to answer. He would think you entirely lame and boring if he knew where you worked, but again, you didn’t want to lie to him.
“I work at uh—a bookstore actually.” It was where you have always wanted to work. Being surrounding by books had always been your dream growing up, and to hopefully own your own library one day. It was just a dream though, one you didn’t see happening anytime in the near future.
“Oh, so you’re a reader? Who do you like?”
Was he asking authors? He must be. You tried thinking about who were some of your favorites, but Lucas’s brilliant smile was making it hard to do anything.
“Could you stop doing that?” It faltered, if only for a moment. “Doing what?” You sighed heavily. “That. Your smiling.” Lucas slowly raised one of his brows in utter delight. “My smiling? What’s wrong with my smile?” Nothing. Which was entirely the problem. Lucas had no clue what power he wielded with that stunning mouth of his, in more ways than one. You decided to just completely ignore his question and answer his first one.
“I have many favorite authors, Jane Austen being one.” People tend to judge you whenever you mentioned you liked Jane Austen, as if liking her books made you illiterate. It, of course, didn’t. Most people who said that to you hardly read at all. How were they to know what authors were good or not?
“Oh, classics. You know, I’ve read a few of her books as well.”
Lucas did not just say what you think he said.
“You’ve read Jane Austen?”
You couldn’t believe it honestly. This gorgeous man in front of you had also read your favorite author of all time? There was no way. Could he get any better? You tried not to think too much on that, keeping your eyes from traveling to his very full, very luscious lips.
Goll, they were lovely though.
Lucas simply nodded. “Of course. Now, did I like them?” He shrugged his broad shoulders.
Your mind completely halted at his words. Wait, what? “You didn’t like her?” Well, it looked like your perfect dream guy wasn’t as perfect as you thought.
“It wasn’t the author I disliked, it was some of her characters. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been compared to that Mr. Darcy guy.”
You could see it, if only in the fact that Lucas was wealthy and dangerously handsome.
“Oh, so you’re prideful?” Somehow you found yourself leaning closer to where Lucas still stood on the other side of the bar. His eyes hadn’t been on your face, but they were now. His eyes went from lit annoyance to amusement within seconds. He placed his elbows on the counter, bringing himself closer to you. Goll, his skin was so smooth and clear. How was it possibly for someone to be so utterly perfect? It was starting to bother you.
Sort of.
“When it comes to some things, yes.” He admitted, letting his eyes travel over your face. You were hardly wearing any makeup at all. He was seeing you in full glory. You were ready for him to recoil in disgust, but he never did. Instead, his eyes grew dark. “Like my business or my family,” So he was a family guy. He just got major points on your scoreboard.
Not like you were keeping score or anything.
“And my taste in women.” His lips lifted into a sly smirk that all but melted your insides. Mother of things holy, this man was going to be the death of you. You didn’t even know how to respond. All you could do was stare at him and his beautiful face.
“Do you want another drink?” His question stunned you from your hypnotize.
“Oh—uhm, no. I probably shouldn’t since I drove here.” Lucas furrowed his gorgeous brows. Stop trying to seduce me, you though. Because it was definitely working. He didn’t even know how much power he had over people by just being him. It was quite frustrating. “You’re right. I can have one of my drivers take you home.”
His drivers? You almost laughed, but stopped yourself. “You have drivers?” Lucas just shrugged his shoulders again.
Who was this guy?
“It’s no big deal.”
You actually laughed out loud this time. “And you wondered why people would compare you to Mr. Darcy,” Lucas’s warm eyes honed in on you in a consuming sort of way. Well, in all seriousness that’s how they always looked.
Lucas was just consuming in general.
“Why are you here, Y/N? If you’re not here with your friends, then why are you here?” Your heart stopped beating. You couldn’t tell him why. He would think your some creep who just wanted to make out with him.
But didn’t you? Gosh, you didn’t know what to say. It all sounded crazy.
You could try to lie, but you knew it would just fail miserably. But maybe you could try. “I wanted a drink,” the last word came out a little too high and Lucas noticed. He started walking around the counter. He was making his way to you, and you found yourself itching to flee towards the exit, but something inside you kept you tithered to the seat you were in.
“You could’ve gotten a drink downstairs. Why did you come up here then?”
You could feel a knot forming in your stomach as Lucas drew closer to you. He looked so devilishly wicked in his black suit and glittering jewelry. You were forgetting how to breathe as he came even closer, his height overpowering you.
“Less people,” You squeaked. Lucas had your back pressed against the bar, while he placed his hands on either side of you. It was like a replay of the night before, where you were caged in by his long arms. You could almost feel your heart beating out of your chest. It was so loud, you wouldn’t be surprised if Lucas could hear it too.
He lowered himself so his eyes were level with yours, even though they weren’t looking into them. They were staring at your lips.
Oh gosh.
“You came up here to look for me,” Lucas’s voice was deep and husky as he glanced from your lips to your eyes. His own were swirling with a blatant hunger. “Didn’t you?”
You swallowed again, letting your tongue slip through your mouth to wet your dry lips. Lucas watched in complete wonder. “What do you want me to say, Lucas?” Your voice was filled with yearning, and he could hear it too. “The truth, Y/N, from your sweet lips.”
You gave a breathy gasp. “Fine. I came to see you okay. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Ever since that first night, my mind hasn’t stopped. Is that better?”
Lucas’s face broke into a glistening smile. “Much better,” His mouth instantly collided with yours. You hadn’t come for this. You had come here to just be with him. To just see him again, but now that his lips were on yours, you couldn’t think of anything else.
Only that you wanted more.
He parted your lips, seeking your tongue, which you gave willingly. Once they touched, you felt the moan escape the back of your throat without your permission. You felt Lucas’s lips smile against yours.
Gosh, it felt amazing.
He let a growl of his own escape and it was a sound that shattered everything you thought you knew about kissing. You had never heard such a lovely sound before in your life, and you wanted to hear it again. It broke the leash you had been keeping on your hands. You had wanted to touch him even before he kissed you, but he wasn’t yours to touch, but now—to hell with that.
You let your arms snake around his broad shoulders, just as Lucas lifted you closer. He was holding you against him and it was the sexiest thing that has ever happened to you. You could feel how fast his heart was bounding, along with your own. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He set you on the counter of the bar, while your fingers twined in his silky hair.
Gosh, it was perfect.
He wrapped your legs around his body, making your lower belly warm. His fingers trailed over your clothed thighs, stopping at your hips. You could feel his thumbs just gently caress the exposed skin there. The light touch made your body want to burst into flames. His tongue danced with yours, the top of his teeth gently grazing your bottom lip, and then tugged.
Another slow moan tumbled from your throat. You let your hands trail down his toned chest and back again, feeling his warm skin beneath his dark clothes. You wanted to take them off. You wanted to see what he looked like.
There must’ve been something in the way you were touching him, because Lucas somehow released your mouth. You could feel how swollen it was, but you didn’t care. All you wanted was for his mouth to be on yours again. You went to pull him close, but Lucas stopped you before you could.
You were both breathing heavily. “Lucas, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Other than the fact that I’m at work.”
Oh, right. Lucas untwined your legs from around his slender torso. You could feel the adrenaline you had been feeling start to fade. You felt almost empty.
“I need to go check on somethings downstairs.” He started to say. All you could do was nod your head.
For some reason you had this strong urge to cry. You hated crying. There was no way you were going to, especially in front of Lucas. You tried to breathe it away and it helped, barely.
You jumped down from the bar, straightening your shirt that looked a little wrinkled. You tried to tamper your hair as well, not wanting to look completely conspicuous.
“Yeah. I should probably leave anyways.” You gripped your purse that you draped over the chair, not wanting to met Lucas’s eyes as you started making your way towards the door.
Your fingers were on the handle when Lucas touched your shoulder. You glanced around to see he looked just as wistful as you. “Come back tomorrow. I don’t have to work, and it can just be you and me.” Your heart perked up immediately. Lucas was asking you out and it thrilled you.
“Okay.” It was all you could say through your smile. Lucas was giving you one as well. It obviously outshined your own. You felt as if your smile was something awkward and lopsided, unlike his that was heartbreakingly warm and lovely.
“Does 7 work?” You nodded your head, twiddling your fingers on your purse. “Great, I’ll see you then.” Before you could do anything, Lucas leaned in and gave you a light kiss on the cheek.
You don’t know how, but you managed to open the door and glide yourself down the stairs. You were still stunned silly when you climbed into the back of a black car Lucas had hauled for you. You thought about his brilliant smile, his dangerous touch and lips all the way back to your apartment.
For once, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
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Misdialed
{Team Human Week Day Two: Prompt Modern AU}
AO3
Caleb woke with a gasp, cold sweat drying on his face and arms, his throat sore. He spent a few seconds looking around his room with the dim lamp casting away the shadows. His breath finally started to slow to normal and he scrambled for his cellphone. His fingers were shaking and his eyes were flitting around the room as he typed in the familiar number and then held it up to his ear as it started to ring.
He heard a click as it was answered and started speaking before she could talk. “Nott…” he started, gasping her name like it was a lifeline. “I am sorry, I don’t know what time it is, I am sure I woke you up.” He paused a moment to glance at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s three. It’s three in the morning, I am sorry. I had another nightmare.” He paused to give Nott a chance to speak if she wanted and to take a deep breath. Nott didn’t speak. She rarely did on these calls because she was still half asleep but just talking about them out loud helped more than he could say so she was usually okay with at least pretending to listen. “I was a child again,” he said, closing his eyes. “Younger than I had been in real life at the Academy, younger than ten. I was strapped to the table in the lab, He… He was there, standing over me. For a moment, he was just staring at me… And then, little by little, he started cutting parts of a me away. My fingers, then my toes, then my feet and up my legs and I screamed and screamed but no one came to help.” He paused again and steady himself.
“Damn,” said a voice that was decidedly not his best friend, Nott Brenatto. His blood ran cold. “That’s messed up.”
“Who is this?” He asked. His voice shaking.
“You called me, man, I think I’m the one who should be asking that. You alright though?”
Caleb pulled the phone away from his face and looked over the phone number that he had typed in. He’d hit 8 instead of 9. His vision started to blur and he could feel his throat starting to close up. “Who is this- who- who are you?”
“Hey, hey,” she said, her voice rough but uneasily kind, like she wasn’t used to it. “It’s alright, man, you’re gonna be fine. It was an honest mistake, no big.” Caleb started wheezing as he breathed, his eyes watering. “Slow down, you don’t sound so good. Take slow breaths. My name is Beau. I’m a librarian in Zadash.” She paused and he started taking deep breaths to try and calm down. She wasn’t in Rexxentrum, she didn’t have an accent. Maybe this mistake wouldn’t get him killed today. He really needed to save Nott’s number in his phone but he was always worried that if he was caught his phone would lead them to his friend. “You feeling better?” He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, though he knew she couldn’t see him. He breathed in deeply through his nose. “What’s your name?”
He hesitated. “Caleb Widogast.” He sighed as he caught his breath but his heart was still pounding hard in his chest. “Why did you not hang up? When you realized it was a wrong number?”
“I don’t know, man,” she mumbled in a way that told him she knew exactly why she didn’t hang up and was embarrassed by it. “You sounded… scared. I thought you might need help or something, whatever.” The line was silent for two heartbeats. “Do you?” she asked, her voice curious. “Need help?”
He sighed. “I am fine. It was just a dream.”
“You called someone at three in the morning because it scared you so badly, that doesn’t sound like just a fucking dream.”
Caleb cleared his throat. “Thank you. I am sorry to wake you.”
“I was up already, haven’t slept yet. Get some sleep, man, it’ll be better in the morning.”
He expected her to hang up then but she didn’t and he realized that she was waiting for him to be the one to cut off their connection. He let it hang in the moment before finally hitting the red phone symbol on his screen and the time keeper stopped counting up and started blinking red.
He thought about calling Nott but found that he wasn’t scared anymore.
He got a call two days later.
He frowned and pulled the vibrating phone out of his pocket.
No one ever called him, not even Nott. He was pretty sure that his phone hadn’t rung since he bought it a few months ago. He hadn’t turned the ringtone off so an upbeat chime filled his apartment.
He checked the number and got excited at first. It was Nott’s number. Then his excitement went away just as quickly. There was an 8 instead of a 9. He thought about not answering it, just hanging it up, turning off the ringer, and going back to finish cooking his breakfast. But she seemed like the kind of person to keep calling until she got what she wanted.
He sighed and answered it. “H-Hello?”
“Who the fuck is Nott and why does she keep calling me?”
Caleb blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Nott Brenatto. Or Veth, I guess, she comes up on caller ID as Veth Brenatto. She keeps fucking calling me and trying to convince me to be your friend. Did you tell her my number?”
“I- No! I mentioned to her that your number was just the same as hers but with an 8 instead of 9, so… I suppose I did tell her your number.”
The woman sighed. “I don’t need any friends, alright?” she asked. “And I don’t need some halfling I don’t know calling me twenty times trying to set me up with any.”
“I apologize, she just worries about me. I’ll tell her to stop.”
“Good.” Then she hung up on him.
Caleb finished his breakfast and shoveled it onto a plate before picking the phone back up and dialing Nott’s number, double checking the 9.
It clicked as it was picked up. “Hello, Mr. Caleb?”
Caleb couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping across his mouth. “Gut Morgen, Lucas. May I speak to your mother, please?”
“No.”
Caleb blinked and tilted his head in confusion. “Why not?”
“The lady won’t answer when she calls anymore so now she called her from Papa’s phone and they’re yelling at each other.”
“What lady?”
“The fucking bitch.”
Caleb choked on nothing and had to turn away and cough into his fist. “The what-”
He cut himself off when he heard Nott’s voice come over the phone, but it was distant, like she was on the other side of the room. “Caleb is a fucking delight and you would lucky to be his friend! Yeah, well fuck you too!” There was a pause. “She hung up on me! That fucking bitch!”
Caleb sighed. “Luc, could you pass me to your mother now that that’s finished, please?”
“Okay. Momma! Mr. Caleb is on the phone!”
There was some shuffling on the other end of the line. “Caleb,” Nott said, her voice a little tinged with nervousness. “What- What’s up?”
“Stop bothering that young woman,” he said sternly.
“What? I wasn’t- Who-”
“Nott. Please. I am fine, I don’t need you to harass people to be my friend. I have you.”
Nott sighed. “But I can’t be there all the time.”
“You are there when I need you and that is more than enough. I am fine, Nott. Please don’t call her anymore. Promise me.”
Nott grumbled quietly under her breath. “But-”
“Promise.”
“Fine. I promise.”
Caleb nodded. “Good. And stop cussing in front of your son, he is basically a soundboard at this point.”
“What? Luc, what did you say to Mr. Caleb? Hey, come back- I gotta go, he’s making a break for it. Call me later!” Then she hung up the phone.
Caleb sighed but he was smiling.
Caleb gasped as he woke up a week later, sweat pooling around his eyes. He shuddered and sat up quickly, pushing the blankets off of him. He reached instantly for his phone, typing in Nott’s phone number and feeling instantly better the second he pushed the final digit. He pressed his phone to his ear as his breathing started to calm but it didn’t even ring.
‘The customer you are trying to reach has not set up their-’ said a robotic feminine voice until Caleb cursed and tossed the phone away. Nott must have dropped her phone in the toilet again. His heart rate started ratcheting up once more until his vision started to swim and he realized that he wasn’t breathing. He reached blindly for where he’d thrown the phone and closed his hand around it, dialing a number that he only knew by heart because it was so similar to Nott’s.
It rang three times before there was a click and a voice on the other end sleepily grunted instead of saying hello.
“B-Beau?”
“I guess…” she mumbled and he sighed in relief when he recognized her voice. He heard shifting on the other side of the line and her distant voice saying ‘Fucking shit’ before she was back. “It’s one o’ clock in the morning, man.”
“Yes, that is when nightmares tend to happen. At night.”
“Well what’d you call me for? I thought this was Nott’s thing?”
“She did not answer, her phone was not working.” Beau just hummed on the other end and he paused in case there was more deriding she wanted to get out or in case she hung up. She did neither of those things. “I am sorry, though, it seems that you were sleeping this time.”
“Kinda. Passed out counts as sleeping, right?”
“I suppose so.”
They fell into silence again for a few minutes until she sighed. “Alright man, you clearly have something you wanna talk about, let’s hear it.”
“I do not really want to talk about it, I just…” Talking about it might put her in danger.
“Needed to feel like you weren’t alone?” He didn’t speak, only nodded even though she couldn’t see. “Yeah, I get that. Wish I had someone to call when I felt that way. My go-to solution is getting drunk and finding a hot girl to go home with until I forget about it.”
“You could… you could call me.”
Beau sighed and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Thanks, man,” she said, the emotion in her voice indecipherable. “I might take you up on that. Don’t worry though, my freak outs happen at reasonable times of day unlike some people I could mention, ten o’ clock at the latest.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes. “I will let you get back to sleep then. Goodnight.”
Beau laughed out loud. “Yeah, night.” Then she hung up.
Caleb sat his phone off the side and let out a heavy breath, breathing easy for the first time since he’d woken up.
#critical role#crteamhumanweek2019#beauregard#caleb widogast#team human#disaster siblings#empire kids#empire siblings
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VF Pace Chapter 1: The Food Expedition Squad Sets Out!
The two have been separated from everyone else. The clock that’s always on time is…
~*Scene: VF Hallway*~
Pace: Wah, what’s with this fog!
Pace: Ojou! Ojou, where are you!?
Pace: Helloo! Luca! Debito!!
Pace: Liberta! Dante!!
Pace: Ojouuu! Answer me!
(*creak)
Pace: Oh, Ojou! You’re here, what a relief
Pace: For now, hold my hand so we don’t get separated…
Pace: Huh. Ojou, was your hand always this skinny?
(*reveal)
(*shock) Pace: Wait, waaah!! A skeleton!
Pace: Hyah!!
(*whack)
Pace: What was that…. Ojou! Ojouuu!!
Felicita: …
Fukurota: Hoot
>I’m right here
(+5 Amore)
>Did you try to hold its hand?
(-5 Amore)
Pace: Oh, Ojou! There you are. What a relief.
Pace: Oh, Ojou! There you are. What a relief…wait, why are you glaring!?
Pace: It’s so hard to see, so it’d be bad if we got separated, right?
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Pace≫ Seems confused
Pleasure: I’m glad she’s alright!
Place: Ojou just looks like a blur because of the fog…
Pleasure: No way Ojou’s hand would be that cold
Person: I need to check if it’s actually her!
Pace: Anyway, I’m glad that you and Fukurota are alright
Felicita: !
Pace: Huh, what is it, Ojou?
(*creak creak)
Pace: Are we um…getting surrounded by those skeletons…?
(*step) Pace: Ojou, stay behind me…you can’t fight them all…
❤≪Pace≫ Seems shocked
Pain: I’m the only one who can protect Ojou right now
Place: We’re blocked from the front and the back
Food: …Is there any food on this ship?
Pace: I’ll blast through them in one spot so we can get past, so follow after me
Pace: It’ll be alright, don’t worry… I promise I’ll protect you, Ojou
Felicita: Okay
(*creak creak)
Pace: On the count of three, Ojou. Run as fast as you can…
Pace: One, two! Ojou, run!
(*grip) Pace: Hyaaah! I’ll take all of you on!
(*growl)
Pace: Ahhh, I’m hungry, my strength…won’t
❤≪Pace≫ Can’t seem to handle it
Food: I’m hungry~!!
Pain: At this rate, we’ll get eaten before we can eat!
Pain: I’m so lame!
(*whish)
(*dodge) Pace: Eek! That was close!
Felicita: …
(*whish) Felicita: Hya!
(*crash!)
Pace: Whew, thanks!
>We’ll fight together
(+10 Amore)
>That didn’t go how you said
(-10 Amore)
>You okay?
(+5 Amore)
(*smile) Pace: Th-thanks, Ojou! Of course!
Pace: It’ll be hard to fight this many alone, but with you…yeah! We can do it!
(*sigh) Pace: S-sorry, Ojou… I’m hungry so I can’t draw out my strength
Pace: But, you’re pretty strong too, Ojou
Pace: I’m fine! I can’t look lame in front of you more than that
Felicita: …
Pace: Huh, Ojou!? Don’t look at me like that…I don’t always look lame!
Pace: Then we’ll get out of this by working together!
❤≪Pace≫ Is hungry
Link: The two of us will work together!
Food: We’ll get lasagna after we get away!...I wish
Felicita: …
Pace: Hyah!
Pace: Yah!
Pace: Hyah!
Pace: And! Last one, Lasagnaaa!!
(*step) Pace: Okay, let’s go, Ojou! Run!
Pace: We’re outta here!!
~*Scene: VF Cabin Deck 3*~
Pace: *panting*…It looks safe here
❤≪Pace≫ Seems shocked
Place: We worked together to beat the skeletons
Food: I’m getting hungrier~
Pace: But what is it with this ship. The fog showed up all of a sudden and I couldn’t see anything…
Pace: And then skeletons attacked
Felicita: Yeah
Pace: Hm, Ojou…. Are you scared?
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Place: I’m the only one here
Arcana: Where did everyone go?
Food: You still get hungry in times like this…
>I’m worried about everyone
(+5 Amore)
>I am not
(No Amore)
Pace: Yeah. I wonder how Debito, Luca, and everyone else are doing
Pace: But they’re all strong, so they’re probably okay
Felicita: …
Pace: Huh? That’s too optimistic? I guess…it might be
Pace: Okay. You’re strong, Ojou…
Pace: I’m pretty anxious. We’re on a weird ship full of skeletons after all…
Pace: You can’t get a piping hot lasagna here, right?
Felicita: …
Pace: Well, thinking about that isn’t like me so I’m trying not to
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Person: I’m the only one who can protect Ojou right now
Food: The more we walk around, the hungrier I get~
Pace: But…I am just a little bit worried
Felicita: !
Pace: When the Tarocco got stolen, Luca got hit…and I couldn’t do anything
Pace: And when you got taken hostage, my strength wasn’t helpful at all
Pace: But right now, you’re close by where I can reach you. So I’m confident that I can protect you
(*shine) Pace: So I’m definitely going to protect you, Ojou! No need to worry!
(*growl)
Pace: Ah, my stomach’s growling again
Pace: Oh right! It was my turn to stand guard, so I ended up missing lunch
(*sigh) Pace: Ah…I’m hungry
>Endure it
(No Amore)
>Won’t talking make you hungrier?
(+5 Amore)
>I’m getting hungry too
(+20 Amore)
Pace: Whaa, that’s so mean of you to say, Ojou!
Pace: Ah, I can’t take it. I’m so hungry
Felicita: …
Pace: Um…I’ll be quiet then
Fukurota: Hoot! Hoot!
(*gasp) Pace: Ah, no! If I’m quiet I just think about food more!
Pace: Huh? You too, Ojou?
Pace: Yeah, of course you’d be! What do you want to eat? Lasagna for me, obviously!
Pace: Ah, it growled again…
Pace: Hey, Ojou. We’re on a ship, so you think they keep food anywhere?
❤≪Pace≫ Is hungry
Food: I have to protect my stomach and Ojou!
Food: There’s got to be something for that alchemist to eat!
Food: I can’t do anything if I don’t eat…
Pace: I don’t care if it tastes good! I’ll take even preserved rations
(*serious) Pace: I don’t even need to eat my fill! Just 80%, or even 60% full is fine!
Pace: Food! I need food! Let’s go find some, okay Ojou?
>It’s dangerous to make careless moves
(+5 Amore)
>Okay, we’ll look for food
(+10 Amore)
>The Tarocco comes first
(No Amore)
Pace: I get what you’re trying to say…
Pace: But I’m going to starve to death before Luca or Debito can find us
Felicita: *sigh*
Pace: I knew you’d say that, Ojou! You really understand!
Pace: On a ship this big, there’s got to be a ton of food!
Pace: Some aged smoked meat maybe? Or cheese? I don’t know but there has to be!
Pace: Yeah, I know that. We’ve got to get the Tarocco back!
Pace: But still, food really does come first
Pace: Okay! Now that we’ve decided, let’s go!
❤≪Pace≫ Seems happy
Food: It’s a food expedition!
Place: We should pick the path with the fewest skeletons
Food: I’m hungry but I’ll hold on a little longer
Pace: Alright! Ojou and I are on a food expedition!
~*Scene: VF Hallway*~
Pace: It’s okay, it doesn’t look like there are any skeletons here…
❤≪Pace≫ Is hungry
Place: The skeletons seem to be sensitive to noise
Place: A path without skeletons is best for Ojou too
Food: I’m hungry but I’ll hold on…!
Pace: They might notice if we make noise, so let’s move quietly
Pace: Carefully…, carefully…
~*Scene: VF Cabin Deck 2*~
Pace: Hmm, doesn’t look like there’s food here either…
❤≪Pace≫ Is hungry
Place: Just one withered little apple here…
Food: I’m hungry!! I can’t take it anymore!
Pace: I guess there really isn’t any food
Pace: But, there might be if we go to the mess hall or something
Pace: I want to avoid places with skeletons though…*grumble*
(*wha) Pace: Wha, Ojou. Wait a minute…
Pace: Is this…the ship’s log?
Pace: “Vascello Fantasma”…what, the ghost ship!? The one Dante was talking about!
Felicita: !
Pace: So this ship is “Vascello Fantasma”… Then I understand why there’s skeletons around
❤≪Pace≫ Seems thrilled
Pain: I guess ghosts don’t eat…?
Food: “Vascello Fantasma”!? …Ah, I’m hungry
Place: We ended up in a weird place
Pace: Maybe there’s more info? …Nope, the ink’s too smeared…I can’t read it
(*growl)
Pace: Ah, my stomach says we need to hurry…
❤≪Pace≫ Is hungry
Food: When will we find food~
Person: It’s the Tarocco thief’s fault that we didn’t get to eat
Pace: If I knew about this I would have brought lunch with me
Pace: Okay, let’s go find the mess hall, and after that, the Tarocco!
~*Scene: VF Hallway*~
Pace: Huh, wait Ojou
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Place: That means there’s fresh apples here!
Food: Apples, no fair!
(*shing) Felicita: …
Pace: No, it’s not skeletons…look at this
Felicita: ?
Pace: An apple core…and it’s not dried out either
Pace: That means there’s apples on this ship, right!?
Felicita: ?
Pace: It means someone ate it and threw it away, Ojou! There’s food!
Pace: Maybe it’s from someone in the Family… But who would just throw the core in the hallway…
Pace: Aha, maybe Liberta?
Felicita: …
Pace: No, I’m just kidding
>Did the skeletons eat it?
(-10 Amore)
>The alchemist from the deck?
(No Amore)
Pace: Hmm, I don’t think so. I think there’s someone besides the skeletons here
Pace: Like the alchemist from the deck…or someone else
Pace: Huh? The alchemist from the deck? Oh, maybe
Pace: That guy…kidnapped you and even litters. I definitely have to give him a piece of my mind!
Pace: But, we don’t know that nobody else is here so it could be someone else
Pace: But, it does feel like we’ve solved one mystery of this ghost ship
❤≪Pace≫ Seems excited
Food: The chance of there being food went up!
Arcana: I know our orders are important too
Pace: We’re one step closer now! Just wait, food is right around the corner
Pace: Oh, I definitely haven’t forgotten about the Tarocco, so don’t worry, okay?
~*Scene: VF Hallway*~
Pace: Hmm…it looks like there’ll be skeletons this way
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Place: My intuition is probably correct~
Place: I don’t want to be right though
Pain: I seriously can’t last much longer without eating…
(*growl)
Pace: But, my stomach is telling us to hurry
(*growl growl)
Pace: …Ahh, why is this happening
Pace: It’s dinner time, so I should be surrounded with delicious lasagna right about now
Pace: Hm!?
❤≪Pace≫ Seems happy
Pleasure: Those shiny red things are…!
Pleasure: Just in time for my stomach~
Pace: Ojou! Look, apples!
Felicita: !
Pace: Over there, look! It’s a whole pile of apples!
(*bam)
Pace: I…I’m not dreaming, right Ojou?
(*dash) Pace: Food! Yaaay! We found some!
(*creak creak)
Pace: Wha, oh no. The skeletons!?
❤≪Pace≫ Seems confused
Place: I was too happy and the skeletons noticed!
Pain: For the sake of Ojou and my stomach…we can’t give up
Food: My apples!
Pace: Damn it, we’re surrounded!?
Pace: What’s up with them! Ojou, what do we do?
>We have to fight
(+10 Amore)
>Pace, do your best
(+5 Amore)
>Let’s run
(+No Amore)
Pace: Got it, Ojou!
Pace: Yup, you really are reliable, Ojou!
Pace: You don’t need to tell me! I got this!
(*growl) Pace: Ugh, my stomach just has to pick this time to growl
Pace: I would but, we’re surrounded…
Pace: Fighting them…would be faster
(*grip) Pace: Okay, Ojou…ready?
(*whish) Pace: Hyaaah! Appleeesss!!
Pace: The food is right there!! Why are you getting in our way!!
Pace: Hyaah!!
Pace: Ojou, nice one!
Pace: Huh, what? What’s that sound…!?
(*grrrr) (*dash)
~*Scene: VF Staircase*~
Pace: Wha, a tiger!?
❤≪Pace≫ Seems confused
Place: Where’d that come from!?
Person: I have to protect Ojou!
Felicita: *glare*
(*pounce)
(*whack) Pace: Gwah!!
(*gets up) Pace: Oww…why’s there a tiger here…
(*grrrr)
Pace: Guh…right, so this is the white tiger that took Ojou…
❤≪Pace≫ Seems confused
Link: I have to protect Ojou!
Daily: I’ll rely on my intuition!
Pace: Ojou, get away from the tiger! …It’s dangerous
Felicita: *backs up*
Pace: Ah!
(*pounce)
Pace: Gah!
(*grip)
Pace: Damn it! Hyaah!!
(*dodge)
Pace: …Whoa!?
(*grrrr)
Pace: Ojou, let’s run! We’re no match for it right now!
Felicita: !
Pace: !? Ojou!!
(*dash) Pace: Damn tiger! I won’t let you!
(*whish) Pace: Gwah!!
Pace: Gah…Ojou, go now…hurry…
Felicita: !
Pace: I’ll be fine, just hurry!
Felicita: Okay
Pace: Hyaaaa…!
Pace: This is not the time…for me to be hungry, or lose my strength…!
Pace: Haaaa…
Pace: Porci Tutto…
Pace: Trapassare!!
(*whack!!)
Pace: Guh, I can’t believe that’s all the strength I can draw out when I’m hungry
Pace: …I’ve got carry around food for Ojou’s sake too
(*grrr)
Pace: Wha, this isn’t the time to space out! I’ve got to run too!!
Pace: Eeeeek!!
~*Scene: VF Hallway*~
(*running)
Pace: Waah! I won’t taste good so don’t eat me!
Pace: Go after someone more tasty…wait, who would that be? …Ojou?
Pace: D-don’t do that! No eating Ojou!
Pace: Waaaah! How long are you gonna chase me for!
Felicita: *opens door*
Pace: Ah, Ojou! Got it, I’ll run into that room!
Pace: Here goes!!
~*Scene: VF Cabin Deck 2*~
Pace: *panting*…Doesn’t look like…it can come in here…
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Pain: Playing tag with a tiger is rough
Pleasure: I’m glad Ojou’s alright
Food: My apples…
Pace: Ah, Ojou…are you okay? Are you hurt?
>Are you okay, Pace?
(+20 Amore)
>That was scary
(No Amore)
>I’m fine, really
(+10 Amore)
Pace: Huh? You were worried about me!?
(*smile) Pace: I’m fine! I tiger’s nothing to me!
Pace: It was…what was with that tiger?
Pace: But I’m glad that you’re okay too
Pace: Alright, that’s a relief…
Pace: I’m glad you’re not hurt, Ojou
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Love: I’m happy
Person: I was waaay more worried about Ojou
Daily: That tiger seemed stronger than me
Pleasure: I’m glad we didn’t get eaten~
Pleasure: Ojou is strong too
Place: Good thing it chased me instead
Pace: If you got hurt, Luca-chan and Papa would beat me to a pulp after all
Pace: And I’d be sad too…
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Person: I’d rather I get hurt than Ojou
Pain: I don’t want to think about either happening
Pace: Looks like the tiger went off somewhere
Felicita: *phew*
Pace: Ahh…I’m so tired all of a sudden
Pace: Ojou, can I…sit with you?
Felicita: Yeah
Pace: Okay
Pace: *sigh*…I’m so useless when I’m hungry…
Pace: I love you, but I put you in danger and couldn’t even protect you from the tiger…
(*growl)
Pace: My stomach’s always honest even when I feel down. I wish it would sense the mood and be quiet
❤≪Pace≫ Is hungry
Food: My stomach and I are both useless…
Pain: I really am lame
Pace: I’m so hungry… I guess we won’t get dinner today though…
Felicita: *holds out*
Pace: Wha!? Ojou! Where’d you get that apple!?
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Food: An apple!!
Pleasure: It’s like she’s magic!
Pace: Huh? You managed to grab one while running away? Amazing! You’re amazing, Ojou!
Pace: Okay, let’s eat…
Felicita: !
Pace: Ah, sorry. You’re hungry too, right?
❤≪Pace≫ Seems excited
Person: It’s Ojou’s apple so she should eat it
Pain: I can’t think when I’m hungry
(*smile) Pace: Yeah, you should eat that apple, Ojou
>You don’t want any, Pace?
(No Amore)
>You want me to check for poison?
(-10 Amore)
Pace: It’s not that I don’t, but you haven’t eaten either, right?
Pace: Huh? No, that’s not what I meant!
Pace: You’re the one who brought it, so that means you should eat it
❤≪Pace≫ Seems concerned
Person: I’ll be satisfied seeing Ojou eat!
Pain: I’m soo hungrryy
Pace: I’ll just endure it. So it’s fine
>Let’s each eat half
(+20 Amore)
>You want some?
(+10 Amore)
>I’ll just give it to you
(+No Amore)
Pace: Huh? I can, Ojou!?
Pace: You really are nice, Ojou!
Pace: Of course I do! Even just half!
Felicita: Okay
Pace: Yay!
Pace: Really!? Thank you! Wait, I’m not falling for that…
Pace: Okay Ojou, how about we each eat half?
Pace: Okay, then here goes…let’s eat! *bite*
Pace: *chewing*, Mm, it’s actually pretty good. Here Ojou, have a bite too
Pace: So? It’s good, right? Okay another bite for me…!
Pace: Hm? What’s wrong, Ojou? Your face is all red
Pace: Hehe, one more bite! *chewing*…
Pace: It tastes good if we eat together, right? Have some of this side too
Pace: Hm…? Seriously, why is your face all red?
Pace: Just like an apple, so cute!
Felicita: …!
Felicita: Hya!
(*whish)
(*whack) Pace: Eek! Wha!? Why’d you kick me, Ojou!?
❤≪Pace≫ Seems to want to cry
Love: She was smiling so cutely just a second ago!!
Person: She’s just embarrassed…right!?
Pace: You shouldn’t kick people when they’re eating…
Felicita: *glare*
Pace: Ojou…you look…serious
(*shing) Felicita: Hya!
Pace: Eek!
Pace: You’re just as scary as the tiger, Ojou!!
~*End of Scene*~
Special Voice obtained. It can be heard in the Profile section
(Continue to Pace Chapter 2)
(Back to Directory)
#pace#arcana famiglia#vascello fantasma no majutsushi#chapter 1#solar translations#psp game#translation#releases#soooo he didn't call for nova or jolly in the beginning there#I get jolly but#no nova either? ok then
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Film Tier Ranking 2019: A Bad Year for Bird Films
Hi to anyone reading,
I’ve finally put it together: my 2019 film tier ranking! I know tier rankings are a bit 6 months ago but seeing British crisps sorted into god, good, mid and shit tier all over Twitter, the format really resonated with me and I was like I MUST USE THIS AT SOME POINT! And I guess since there probably isn’t much of an audience for crisp tier rankings on Tumblr, it makes more sense for me to do it with films instead, especially as doing a 2019 year in film review was something I previously claimed I would do; here’s to 2020 and following through on my proposals.
I think 2019 in general was an okay year for film, with the end of the year definitely outselling the beginning. One thing to bear in mind is that a lot of films that I would’ve been able to see in 2019, I.E Little Women and Parasite, didn’t come out until 2020 in the UK so they won’t make it onto this year’s list. It’s not a snub by any means. I more fall in line with the Elsie Fisher Film Awards school of thought than the Oscars, which have yet again disregarded several incredible performances this year: Florence Pugh in Midsommar, Taron Egerton in Rocketman, Lupita Nyongo in Us, and of course, Greta Gerwig’s direction of Little Women. I’m sure there are many more but those are the first few that come to mind. Oh to be in 2017 when nominations made fractionally more sense.
This list also includes films that weren’t necessarily released this year, but that I just got around to watching; there were a couple of disappointments but also a lot of films I can’t believe it took me this long to finally watch and have definitely made their way into my favourites. My goal for this year is to get through even more of the films on my verrrry long Letterboxd watchlist, and more specifically, watch said films without going on my phone, which is a really bad habit of mine. I find it hard to sit still! Let me live!
I also want to try and put aside my prejudices about visual quality and watch more pre-2000s movies this year; it’s really bad but I never managed to get more than half an hour into Psycho, of all films, solely because I couldn’t deal with the black and white. In 2020, I am going to stop being a whiney Gen Z/cusp millenial-er and give older films the chance they deserve.
So, without further ado, here is my film tier ranking of everything I watched in 2019! If you make it til the end and have any thoughts or disagreements, let me know. I love to hear other’s opinions and get new perspectives on things and am totally open to any criticism. Happy reading:-)
God Tier
Knives Out (Rian Johnson, 2019)
Knives Out. What a film.
I feel like I waited forever to see this at the cinema. They must have started showing trailers for it in, like, August, and I had to wait til mid-November to see it. How are you gonna just dangle a film with Toni Colette and Lakeith Stanfield in my face and then make me wait 3 months? Totally unethical.
But that being said, when it finally came around and I did see it, as much as I love Toni and Lakeith, there was one stand out and it wasn’t either of them: ANA DE ARMAS. I have to admit I’d never heard of her before but she acted the shit out of a role I feel I’d ordinarily find irritating and gimmicky. Daniel Craig, whose character seemed annoying as fuck in the trailer, was actually surprisingly funny.
Stylistically, it was a very cool film and I liked the subtle commentary on class that was running throughout. Also, I thought the ending was very clever. My issue with a lot of whodunnits is that they just pick someone who doesn’t make sense for shock factor *cough, Bobby Beale in Eastenders, cough* but the shocks here were more in the details.
Hustlers (Lorene Scafaria, 2019)
There wasn’t one single moment of Hustlers I didn’t enjoy and it’s quite amazing that there wasn’t one single point in this film about strippers that I felt gratuitously sexualised women. THAT is why you fund female directors. It made the whole thing look like a calculated art form, which I think the unsexy amongst us can all agree that it is. Constance Wu was a fantastic lead, J-Lo was kind of robbed for a supporting actress nom, and Keke Palmer and Lili Reinhart were hilarious too.
Midsommar (Ari Aster, 2019)
Midsommar was such an experience that it took me a good few days afterwards to decide whether I actually liked it. I saw it the day it came out because I loved Hereditary so much and I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I kind of had an idea of the way it was going to go, we could all kind of guess evil cult was the route that was being taken from the trailer, but I just didn’t realise quite how weird it’d get.
The gore was great, the visuals were stunning and the character arcs were surprising and for that reason, I think this is another game changer for horror from Ari Aster. I didn’t love it like I loved Hereditary but it continues to play on my mind and 7 months later I still can’t resist a good “Things you Missed in Hereditary” or “Hereditary Themes Explained” Youtube video essay. That’s how you know a film fucked with you and that’s the ultimate goal of going into a horror for me. Put that on my headstone after I inevitably get myself into some mortally dangerous conflict because I want to “get fucked with” a little bit.
Booksmart (Olivia Wilde, 2019)
So here’s the thing with Booksmart: I was getting progressively more and more drunk throughout it so I might be a little biased when I say I loved it. That being said, worth revere seems to be a commonly held opinion so I’ll stick to my guns. Plus, movies like this, which just focus on girls living their lives, are few and far between. Why have we had to wait THIS long for the female Superbad?
IDK. But Kaitlyn Dever, Beanie Feldstein and Billie Lourd proved it’s definitely a genre worth investing in so hopefully we see more lighthearted female-led coming of age comedies. One Ladybird per year isn’t enough for me.
The Favourite (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2018)
I included The Favourite in my 50 Films You’ve Got to Watch that I made earlier this year so I don’t have all that much to say about it that I haven’t said already. To summarise, it’s an instant classic: the cinematography, the cast, the lines, it’s all perfection.
Suspiria (Luca Guadagnino, 2018)
I also included Suspiria in my 50 Films You’ve Got to Watch list so sorry if I’m repeating myself, but I adored everything about it. If I had to sum it up in one sentence I’d say divine feminine energy, but inverted. Plus ballet. That dancing scene in the mirrored room will probably never leave my mind (if you’ve watched it, trust me, you’ll know the one I'm talking about), and if there were awards given out for creepy montages in horror, this would win all of them. It still blows my mind that Tilda Swinton played 3 characters in this film; 2 of them are so distinctly different, if anyone put two and two together without prior knowledge of this fact then I’ll blow my own head up too. This is why I got so mad when there was all that discussion around her being the new female Doctor Who and there were people asking who she was. How can you not know who Tilda fucking Swinton is!? She’s a legend!
Sorry, is the wannabe film snob in me showing?
Annihilation (Alex Garland, 2018)
Though I initially watched it because it’s branded as a horror, Annihilation ended up being a surprisingly introspective take on human nature and our self-destructive tendencies. Nothing really went the way I expected it to, even though I was constantly trying to guess that trajectory from beginning to end.
Visually, Annihilation is magnificent. Like, it’s tense, and where exactly the plot is going is shrouded in mystery, but most importantly, it’s super fucking pretty. Sure, the only thing that was mildly horrifying was the *SPOILER* end result of that bear scene but I didn’t mind too much because there was always that edge-of-your-seat possibility something like that would happen again.
Also I realised that Gina Roduriguez is really hot in this! I would just say in general but that video of her saying the n-word kind of took away shot at real world magnetism. WHY SUCH A SHITTY APOLOGY VIDEO!? WHY?!
Assassination Nation (Sam Levinson, 2018)
So I didn’t clock until I was looking up directors that Sam Levinson, Euphoria director, also directed this, and suddenly everything makes sense in the world. They both have that dreamlike, exaggerated feel that perfectly captures the emotional rollercoaster that is being a teenager, only in Assassination Nation obviously the threats are a bit more...tangible. As in its actually other people trying to kill our protagonists this time round, not just angst.
Not gonna lie, it’s not a patch on Euphoria because that show is probably the best thing I watched all year, but I did thoroughly enjoy it, even if I did feel the social commentary, despite how in your face it was, got a bit lost in translation at times. I think it’s the kind of film that, once again, would’ve felt more genuine coming from a female director, however that’s not to take away from how witty, modern, and completely relevant it still is as we move into 2020.
Sorry To Bother You (Boots Riley, 2018)
Right. WHAT THE FUCK!?
Why don’t more people talk about this film? Like it has Tessa Thompson and the world’s best earrings! Lakeith Stanfield getting more than 10 cumulative minutes of screen time! Armie Hammer being that bitch we all knew he was irl (probably)! Scathing critiques of late stage capitalism! It’s insane, in the absolute best way.
SPOILERS AHEAD: I had a mini paragraph written about the last hour of the film and the descent into pure unadulterated chaos, and how it’s like, the internet’s best kept secret, because ordinarily you lot can’t keep your mouths shut about a film or TV’s shows most crucial reveals for more than 5 minutes and THEN...My FBI agent must be feeling real cheeky because THIS tweet pops up on my Twitter timeline.
Fuck this shit, I’m out. Onto the next film. MI5 stop peeping my drafts.
Eighth Grade (Bo Burnham, 2018)
I don’t want to repeat what I said about Eighth Grade in my 50 Films you Should Watch list but Elsie Fisher’s performance in this is why I wish the Oscars also had some kind of rising star award category à la the BAFTAs. Honestly, every 13/14 year old should watch this; it’s a reminder that although feeling like an outsider is by its nature quite isolating, it’s prolific enough that a 29 year old man, 10 years out of “high school”, gets it.
American Animals (Bart Layton, 2018)
My sister and I absolutely loved this film so you can image our disappointment when we turned round to our parents at the end and our enthusiasm wasn’t matched...as in, I’m pretty sure they were both asleep for a lot of it. WHICH I DON’T GET. Because to me, there wasn’t a dull moment. American Animals is what happens when a group of university age boys with the finesse of the American Vandal Turd Burglar try and apply that to an Evil Genius stye heist, part Netflix, talking head abundant documentary, part live-action film. Splicing a stylistic reenactment with interview footage of the men who really attempted to commit the crime elevated what I probably would have put in the Good Tier™ to the God Tier™; seeing the guy Evan Peters is playing alongside Evan Peters playing him, now only the remnants of the arrogance we see in the reenactment left behind, sharply reminds you of the fall from grace these boys deservedly went through. Plus Barry Keoghan from The Killing of a Sacred Deer is in it, proving that unsettlingly stiff is NOT in fact his natural state.
Gerald’s Game (Mike Flanagan, 2017)
I wish there was a shorthand way to say I wrote about this in my 50 Films You Should Watch list so I’m gonna keep it short but here we are! This was great! If The Haunting of Hill House isn’t proof enough, Gerald’s Game (not to take away any credit from Stephen King) is a reminder that Mike Flanagan is the king of subtle, niggling sensation in your stomach that something is about to go very wrong horror. I hear he and Ari Aster have a timeshare situation going on with the crown.
The Ritual (David Bruckner, 2017)
Okay, so this is the film that made me realise we should all be very scared of forests. Nope, all the documentaries into the Aokigahara Forest weren’t enough, apparently. I subjected myself to this too, as if my unfit, cold-blooded, bug-fearing, scared of the dark ass doesn’t already have enough concerns about my survival odds in the great outdoors.
Really though, setting aside, this film maintains the sense of dread throughout and keeps you guessing what’s going on until the very end. Much like The Descent, the group dynamic and characters are realistic enough that it adds to the believability of a scenario I, in principle, know would never happen to the extent that I might keep away from vast, wooded spaces for a while just in case.
Dumbo (Tim Burton, 2019)
If film Twitter came across this post and saw I’d placed Dumbo in a higher tier than If Beale Street Could Talk I can only imagine the outrage. And sure, the latter is probably a much higher quality film. But sometimes a movie, for reasons you can’t quite put your finger on, gets you right in the sweet spot, and Dumbo did that for me. Maybe it was that the CGI elephant reminded me of my cat (I know, leave me alone), maybe I was emotional that day, I don’t know, all I know is that I cried like 5 times and was smiling for the rest of it-to be fair, the exploitation of animals for our entertainment is something that is still very much going on and that was something that was playing on my mind a lot whilst I was watching it. IRL Dumbos should be free too. Dumbo rights.
The VVitch (Robert Eggers, 2016)
This film taught me that there’s nothing wrong with joining a coven of young witches and getting naked and levitating around a fire. And that’s an important life lesson. Plus it gave us the quote “wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”, which is not only so perfectly creepy and simultaneously empowering that I had to get it tattooed but also, created ASMR. I just made that last bit up obviously but Black Philip getting his own ASMR Youtube channel?
The Descent (Neil Marshall, 2006)
For me, much like The Ritual, The Descent is a perfect horror film: it’s got the ghouls but the situation the characters find themselves in is also terrifying by its own merit. The reason The Descent made it onto my 50 Films list and the Ritual didn’t is because, let’s be honest, it’s 2020 and you can get mobile signal in most places. You could probably at least make a 999 call if you got lost in a forest. If you DID get stuck in an underground cave and it collapsed in on itself, you’d be pretty fucked; the idea of it makes me shudder and I will never set foot in an underground tunnel at any point in my life for any amount of money EVER after seeing this. Also, the women in this are great and the creatures in this are genuinely quite terrifying, especially the first time you see them.
Chicago (Rob Marshall, 2003)
Ah, Chicago, the last film on the God Tier™, proving that this list is in no particular order. Because WHAT A FIM. WHY DON’T PEOPLE TALK ABOUT THIS MORE?! Like don’t get me wrong, I know it deservedly won Best Picture in 2003 but I’m talking about right now! I mean, fucking Titanic is still out here getting referenced left, right and centre and yet Chicago gets paid dust! Can you tell I’m mad and that I think Titanic is hugely overrated?! Is that maybe coming across?!
ALL the songs are bops, Catherine Zeta-Jones is hot (I saw someone on Letterboxd say that Catherine Zeta-Jones in this film was their bisexual awakening and honestly, if I hadn’t already known I was a raging bisexual, same, because I FELT things in that All That Jazz opening) and Cell Block Tango is the revenge fantasy anthem I never knew I needed. Smart, tongue in cheek, beautifully shot and makes men look like little bitches which is probably why my dad hated it but what did I expect.
Good Tier
Zombieland: Double Tap (Ruben Fleischer, 2019)
Onto the first film of the good tier, Zombieland: Double Tap definitely exceeded my expectations. I was super worried about the prospect of a sequel as I love the first one so much and assumed it would be crap. Obviously, it doesn’t match up to the original because the original WAS so original, but it was still a fun, easy, witty ride. And I was SO glad they didn’t *SPOILERS AHEAD* kill off Tallahassee at the end because I really thought that was coming and it seemed so predictable and unnecessary. Highlight was the introduction of the lookalikes at Graceland.
Judy (Rupert Goold, 2019)
So, this is the first of two consecutive rants I’m about to go on about Oscar nominations and people’s reactions online. Prepare yourself.
I’ll start with the underlying message: just because you think something else deserves the praise more, doesn’t mean the film/album/*insert whatever artistic medium you wish here* that IS getting the praise is shit.
Like people are angry that Lupita Nyongo wasn’t nominated for best actress for her performance in Us which is COMPLETELY valid as she carried that film on her back. In the same vein, people are also angry that more women of colour haven’t been nominated for best actress. Also valid; I’ve yet to see The Farewell but I’ve heard great things about Akwafina’s performance and I love her so even though I haven’t seen it, I’m gonna take the general consensus that she should’ve been nominated too. The Oscars definitely has a problem with recognising the work of POC. BUT, because of this, people are angry that Renee Zellweger has been nominated for her performance in Judy, saying that it’s typical “Oscar bait”. I agree, it is typical Oscar bait. However, a lot of the people saying this will in the same breath say (or tweet rather) that they haven’t actually SEEN Judy.
How can you possibly say that Renee Zellweger doesn’t deserve any of the praise she’s getting when you haven’t even seen the film? Don’t get me wrong, the film itself is good but not outstanding (hence its place in this tier), but you can see Renee genuinely put her heart and soul into this film; it was powerful, and it was sympathetic but it was also nuanced and subtle where they could’ve just capitalised on all the sensationalised stories of the actions of a woman clearly deeply suffering in her final years and had it be full of shouting and screaming. The Wizard of Oz has always kind of felt like home to me because of the childhood nostalgia factor and so I’ve always been interested in Judy and I think Renee captured her heart and her spirit in a way she would be deeply honoured by. Maybe the film itself doesn’t deserve the acclaim it’s getting but I think Zellweger definitely deserves the nom and I think most people who’ve actually seen it wouldn’t contest that.
Joker (Todd Philipps, 2019)
Okay so second rant. I’m sorry. I have a lot of feelings. Most of them aimed at the annoying tendency of internet users, Film Twitter™ and Letterboxd users I’m looking at you in particular, to be wildly exaggerative.
There just seems to be no nuance online. It’s not just yeah, I didn’t like the film personally and the message could be perceived in a certain way by certain individuals, it’s I HATE THIS FILM AND IT’S DANGEROUS AND THE DIRECTOR FUCKING SUCKS. I noticed this trend when La La Land came out (which if I had watched last year would certainly be in God tier for me). It’s like, if a film initially receives a lot of praise and buzz, there’s almost this wave of compensatory vehement criticism in response that’s usually disproportionate to how controversial the film actually is. People didn’t like that Joker was popular because they didn’t like Joker so suddenly it’s the worst film ever and the possibility of it getting any critical acclaim is wrong. I even saw people berating Todd Philipps for channelling Martin Scorsese as he’s the only person to ever be influenced and take direction from one of the most dominant figures in film of the 20th and 21st century. I mean, what’s wrong with that?! If it was any other director, it’d be called homage. But because everything has to be seen through this malicious lens, its copying.
I think one of the few very valid criticisms about Joker was that it further perpetuates the idea that psychotic people are dangerous, and I can totally see where they’re coming from. At the same time, we have to accept that whilst the majority of people who are psychotic aren’t a danger to anyone apart from themselves, most “dangerous” people don’t just become dangerous because they thought, fuck it, why not? A lot of people in the prison system ARE suffering with some kind of mental illness. The character’s psychosis doesn’t make him dangerous, it’s his underlying resentment and sense of entitlement that grows throughout the film that makes him dangerous, and I think a lot of people seem to miss this point. They say that the way the film ends implies Philipps is justifying the actions of the films protagonist. However, we KNOW the Joker is an unreliable narrator, he’s one of pop culture’s most infamous villains and that being said, both in film and in the real world, few villains see themselves as the villain. Joker is about why HE thinks he’s justified in doing what he does, not why he IS justified in doing what he does because he’s not, and that’s pretty clear from the moment he shoots someone in the head on live TV. Honestly, I think there’s a bit of wilful misinterpretation going on because people don’t like that film
I liked Joker. It was gritty, it was interesting, and sufficiently dark. I didn’t think it was the best film of the year but I understand why it got the praise it did. Obviously, it’s okay that people disagree and DON’T like it. But can we please get a bit more well-acquainted with the middle ground?
It: Chapter Two (Andres Muschietti, 2019)
Okay, essays over. Back to regular scheduled programming of less impassioned reviews. Though I will say I deserved better than my Letterboxd comment of “so you can just fucking roast Pennwyise to death?” getting absolutely 0 traction. One day my grand total of 5 followers, one of which is my sister, will recognise my brilliance (lol).
It’s hard to say how much I really liked this as I think my perspective of how much I did enjoy it is warped by how much I disliked the first one. Child actors really aren’t my thing and the only cast members I warmed to in the first one were Finn Wolfhard and Jack Dylan Grazer whereas the cast here were a lot more likeable, imo. Bill Hader, Jessica Chastain and James Ransone were all great, with the only let down being James Mcavoy; I love him, don’t get me wrong, but I just think he was really miscast in this role.
Another thing I enjoyed a lot more about this instalment was that due to the more episodic/anthology-like/Creepshow-esque structure with each character conquering different monsters from their past individually, the narrative felt like it had a lot more direction, and it didn’t drag as much despite it having a significantly longer runtime. I haven’t read the Stephen King novels and I don’t know much of the pacing issues are down to them so this is me coming at it from a screenwriting angle but it felt as if the climax of the first film just kept going on and on. Every time I thought it had finished there’d be another confrontation between the kids and Pennywise whereas Chapter 2 seemed to have a more definitive third act and I appreciated that.
Rocketman (Dexter Fletcher, 2019)
So, here’s one where I WILL agree with the general online consensus: if Rami Malek got nominated for playing Freddie Mercury last year and Renee got nominated for playing Judy Garland, why the fuck didn’t Taron Egerton get one for playing Elton John? Why didn’t Rocketman itself get a nomination when Judy did? Though I personally preferred Judy because I’m more interested in her story, technically and narratively Rocketman is the better film in my opinion. This was so cleverly edited and sequenced and told with such a brutal honesty on Elton John’s part (it was co-produced by his husband David Furnish and he was heavily involved in everything from the set to the script), that I can only come to the conclusion that the obligatory biopic nomination only comes when the focus of said biopic is no longer with us as a kind of honorary thing. Whilst something like Bohemian Rhapsody was much more of an easy watch (which just goes to show how glossed over Freddie Mercury’s life was in the film), the way the story was told, by the time we got to I’m Still Standing that happy ending felt so earned.
Aladdin (Guy Ritchie, 2019)
You can hate all you want, Prince Ali and Never Had a Friend Like Me are fucking bops and somehow they were even better in this incarnation of the film. I was initially hesitant about Will Smith being cast but rather than trying to impersonate Robin Williams he went his own route and it really worked. He was the highlight of the film. It was undeniably visually stunning too. Madonna’s ex did good.
Us (Jordan Peele, 2019)
Ah, I feel so conflicted when it comes to Us. Like, there were some really strong points and it’s definitely a good standalone horror movie. It’s just you can’t help but compare it to Get Out, and with that unsatisfactory exposition dump ending, I left feeling so disappointed. It seemed to me that Jordan Peele got in a bit over his head here with trying to tie such a vague social metaphor and the actual in-universe plot together, and so ended up leaving both a bit half-baked. He tried to OutPeele himself and for me, it didn’t work.
The doppelgängers were so scary as this ambiguous, vaguely threatening presence that if you are gonna give us a full blown, sit down explanation of why they exist it needs to be really bloody good. And this explanation didn’t make much sense. For example, *SPOILERS AHEAD* I imagine that the tethered just not being able to walk up the escalator into the “real world” was supposed to be some kind of metaphor for social mobility but it’s not fleshed out enough to work. In our world, there are REASONS why the idea of social mobility is flawed. In the film, it’s just like gee, if they chose to just walk up the escalator and go on this murderous rampage now, why couldn't they have decided to do it years ago back before they all lost their fucking minds? Why were they just copying the originals for all those years? HOW did they know what they were doing? See, the metaphor as I understand it is supposed to be that we depend on the oppression of others like us in order to maintain our social status, but not only is this kind of too general a statement to try and use a feature length film to make, I don’t really understand how this dynamic works within the narrative of the film. Technically, there's nothing to stop the tethered and the originals co-existing apart from the tethered deciding not to walk up the fucking escalator. We’re not talking a bourgeoisie-proletariat relationship here. The explanation of it all just being a “government project gone wrong” was too vague seeing as the plot working seemed prior to this to hinge onto something vaguely supernatural and the eventual plan of the doppelgängers seemingly had no purpose or application to the real world like the climax of Get Out did. It just left me feeling kind of like...why? Why did this all happen? When the ending and the twist was that predictable (the old Pretty Little Liars finale style twin switcheroo was blatantly obvious from the mother’s “it’s like she’s a different person” line near the beginning, let’s be real), I was expecting some final revelation that flipped my expectation on its head or at least felt helped things click into place. Instead, it seemed a bit hamfisted and like I was supposed to feel things were deeper and more significant than they actually were.
All that being said, I appreciate that if anyone other than the writer of Get Out had come out with this movie, I probably wouldn’t have these issues. Us was funny, it was fresh, and the concept of doppelgängers is something I’m so glad to see brought back into our modern pop culture database. The people are right, Lupita was incredible in this and it is a travesty that she didn’t get nominated. My sister, who was so creeped out by her vocal performance that she had her fingers in her ears every time Red spoke, still won’t let me attempt an impression of it. And that Fuck the Police sequence? Iconic.
On the Basis of Sex (Mimi Leder, 2019)
I apologise in advance for the shittiest “review” I’ll ever write, but honestly I can’t remember all too much about this film other than it being good. Ruth Bader Ginsburg, I’m sorry. You’re a cool lady.
If Beale Street Could Talk (Barry Jenkins, 2019)
EURGH, THIS WAS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL FIM. The score, the shots, the rawness. I imagine it’s devastatingly real. Like, *SPOILERS AHEAD* you think there’s going to be a happy ending but there’s not. It should be disappointing but it’s an honest choice. And side note: fuck those annoying middle aged white ladies in the seats behind me and my friend who lost their shit and started giggling every time the N-word was used, JFC. I hate living in a Tory stronghold.
Cam (Daniel Goldhaber, 2018)
So, as I said, I’m a fan of the whole doppelgänger thing. It freaks me out. The point in this film where the protagonist is approaching her bedroom door whilst she watches HERSELF livestreaming from inside that same bedroom had my heart in my mouth wondering what she was going to encounter on the other side. And you see, the ending of this was a lot more ambiguous than the ending of Us, so I should’ve had less questions. Whilst I’ve seen other people saying it WAS unsatisfactory and that they felt like we were owed more of an explanation, I liked the simplicity of the answer we got and the wiggle room it leaves for our own interpretation. The way I see it, given that we were told by the fan the protagonist meets with in the motel room that *SPOILERS AHEAD* it was a case of some kind of software copying these women’s likenesses to steal their viewers and thus their profits, is that Cam is a kind of a commentary on the capitalist exploitation of women’s bodies and the demand for (and desensitisation towards) sexually violent content; we don't necessarily need to know who is behind the virtual cloning, which is terrifyingly believable given how realistic some of the deepfakes I’ve seen are, because it doesn’t matter. We're basically told money is the motive and we know the kind of lengths some people will go, and someone DID go to in Cam, to in order to make a shitload of money and that’s as true in real life as it is scary. On the other hand, if you want to believe there’s a more supernatural presence behind the events of the film, there’s enough left to the imagination that you can go down that route too. Some films are better left un-exposition dumped and this is the proof. My one criticism, is that, like many films, it would be even better if directed by a woman; I’ve seen people say that its portrayal of online sex work isn’t entirely accurate and though I can’t say with certainty that women working in this industry weren’t consulted in the first place, I imagine a female director would not only be more likely to listen to their concerns but could translate the confusion and fear that comes with being expected to makes oneself sexually desirable to get ahead in the world but then shamed and used for doing so even more viscerally. A few tweaks and it’d be God Tier.
Colette (Wash Westmoreland, 2019)
The costumes, sets, and Keira were so, so stunning. Also it was just an inspiring, beautiful story. The navigation of womanhood, so called “deviant” sexuality and self-expression against the backdrop of early 20th century Paris with a load of Edwardian era tailoring thrown in, it’s everything I could possibly want and more; 10/10 moodboard content.
The Boy (William Brent Bell, 2016)
I can’t believe this film was made in 2016, and it almost makes me move it down to mid tier based on the fact that a lot of the allowances I made for cheese factor I made on the assumption it came out earlier in the decade. BUT, that being said, I was creeped out for a good portion of this film. Most horrors I watch and I’m probably a bit too chilled (a head comes off or some witchy ass ghost screams into the camera and my only thought is some kind of judgement of the SFX), and yet I felt like watching this behind my hands. I don’t know what it is about dolls and puppets, Chucky was my childhood fear even though I never actually watched the film, but something about the uncanny valley of it all makes me just spend the whole time they’re on screen silently praying they don’t start moving or talking. So in a way, given the resolution of the film *SPOILERS AHEAD*, the premise of The Boy was actually a lot scarier to me than the reveal of what was really going on. Someone hiding in my walls? NBD. That demons are real and that they live inside creepy old dolls? Terrifying. Why does everybody I debate this with disagree!? You can't call the police on a demon! At least with a human being you can stick them with the pointy ending of something! Regardless, I enjoyed the journey and trying to work out how things would end and if there IS anybody secretly living inside my house right now, even if you are a supposedly dead murderous family member (last time I checked I didn’t have any of those so I should be all good), kindly vacate. Thanks.
Oprhan (Jaume Collet-Serra, 2009)
So the fact that this film is based on a real life case makes this all the more terrifying. It was a bit campy and tacky at times but the shot of *SPOILERS AHEAD* Esther taking off her makeup in the mirror and revealing her true age will always be iconic. Plus I love Vera Farmiga, even though I did struggle to see her as anyone other than Norma Bates.
First Reformed (Paul Schrader, 2018)
A hauntingly beautiful film with a lot of room for interpretation. There were so many gorgeous shots and so much subtext, this is proper 10/10 media studies essay material.
The Invitation (Karyn Kusama, 2015)
I would say the concept and implications of this film, which don’t fully hit you til the final shots, are a lot better than the film itself. It feels very realistic though and is definitely tense.
As Above, So Below (John Erick Dowdle, 2014)
I was so stoned when I watched this that a lot of the allegory and Dante’s inferno references went straight over my head, and it just seemed absolutely balls to the wall wild. I couldn’t buy that the characters would just KEEP GOING either when things began to get terrifying, like people in horror films really out here making the most nonsensical decisions and it drives me mad. But anyway, it was definitely entertaining and there’s a lot more to it in terms of plot and mythology than most similar quality horrors and I appreciate that
Climax (Gaspar Noe, 2018)
Climax is an interesting one that I think I’ll have to watch again to judge how much I truly like it. As with Us, I know it’s a good film, but I think my expectations of what it was going to be left me slightly disappointed. See, when I read about the premise I assumed that the horror was going to come from seeing the perspective of the characters on said acid trip and that leaves so much room for any kind of terrifying visuals you want whether that be something based in realism or fucked up creatures of the imagination. Buuuuut, it wasn’t that at all; at no point does Climax take place from the first person perspective of any of the characters. Similar to Darren Aronofsky’s Mother, the horror comes from not being able to do anything but watch as everyone starts losing their minds and the situation gets increasingly more dire. It’s pure stress; the acting is so unnervingly good that you really do feel like you’re watching some unintentionally horrific incident take place. That’s not a bad thing-I like it when films make me feel something intense, whether that emotion be positive or negative. It was just a different viewing experience to the one I had precipitated.
Mid Tier
Nativity (Debbie Isitt, 2009)
I find Mr.Poppy hilarious. Does that make me a child? Probably. I’m not really one for Christmas movies but this one’s alright.
Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (André Øvredal, 2019)
I get that it’s based off a book so it’s not exactly like the “monsters” were a secret in the first place, but for those of us who didn’t read the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark books as a kid, my main beef with this film was that they basically revealed all of said monsters in the trailer. Like how It: Chapter 2 spoiled the scene with Beverly in the old lady’s apartment but with EVERY. SINGLE. CREATURE. The only one that wasn’t was the “jangly man” and the only takeaway I have from him is the “jangly in the streets, but is he jangly in the sheets?” Letterboxd comment I read afterwards. Like the creature designs are the selling point of this film and by showing us them all before we’ve even seen it, any anticipation that would’ve built up from their reveal was kind of gone. Plus, it definitely felt like the writers were trying to ride on the hype train of “It” when they wrote this-only they made it even more childish. I mean, I know it was classed as PG-13 in the US which is maybe part of the reason it was so tame but the Woman in Black was a 12 when it was released here and it could be the bias of my 13 year old brain but I remember that being terrifying to watch in the cinema.
Also, I found it weird how *SPOILERS AHEAD* a couple of the main characters died and there didn’t really seem to be any consequences? Idk, maybe that’s because I found them all a bit one dimensional but I’ve seen others make the same criticism so I don’t think so.
Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t a BAD film. It just wasn’t super good.
Charlie’s Angels (Elizabeth Banks, 2019)
I’ve never seen the 2000s Charlie’s Angels so I really don’t have anything to compare to, but I don’t think this was THAT bad. I was fairly entertained throughout and I enjoyed Naomi Scott and Kristen Stewart’s characters. My main issue was the unnecessary inclusion of Noah Centineo, and that weird ass montage at the beginning of stock video shots of girls just...doing miscellaneous things. Why, Elizabeth Banks, why!?
Toy Story 4 (Josh Cooley, 2019)
In some ways, I see why Toy Story 4 was narratively necessary: co-dependency had been a running theme throughout and we needed to see Woody (I feel stupid saying this considering he’s a fucking toy but allow it) realise that he can exist independently of Andy, and that there’s more to life than pleasing somebody else. The way Toy Story 4 ended felt like a satisfying conclusion to his character arc, and as well as the animation being top tier, Forky was a hilarious addition to the cast. However, I don’t think it carried the emotional weight of the 3rd Toy Story, which I think people had accepted as the last instalment and had used to say goodbye to the franchise, and therefore the sceptic in me thinks that the obvious purpose of this addition was a cash grab. I don’t doubt that a lot of people worked incredibly hard on it-I’m just saying that the propelling force behind the film probably wasn’t “the people need to see Woody’s character growth” and that was quite apparent throughout.
Doctor Sleep (Mike Flanagan, 2019)
There were some really beautiful scenes in Doctor Sleep; the astral projection sequences in particular were magnificent and I loved Rebecca Ferguson as the villain. Stylistically, though I didn’t find out he was the director until I was writing this up, you can definitely tell it’s Mike Flanagan, and like I’ve said, he does horror very tastefully. Unfortunately, I just wasn’t all that interested in the premise and I wasn’t hugely invested in grown up Danny Torrance either. The execution was great and the return to the Overlook was brilliant, of course, but the story just wasn’t for me and nothing much sticks out as being a particularly intriguing plot point.
Mary Queen of Scots (Josie Rourke, 2019)
What to say about Mary Queen of Scots other than...yeah, it was alright. I mean, I really should’ve liked it more than I did, because these specific events were part of the Edexcel A-Level history curriculum (Can I get some Rebellion and Disorder Under the Tudors students representation up in here!?) and I usually love seeing history translated onto screen, plus it centred around Margot Robbie and Saoirse Ronan. It was just very...meh. I feel like there’s so much more complex a story here than was told. Both women were undoubtedly a lot more complicated than this film made them out to be and I think to reduce Mary Queen of Scots to a Mary Sue-ish heroine was a disappointing choice. Plus, if we’re gonna talk historical accuracy (which all the racists came out of their caves to discuss at the time), Mary and Elizabeth never actually met; I’m sure there was a more creative way to explore their dynamic than by forcing an interaction that never actually happened.
Apostle (Gareth Evans, 2018)
There were elements of this film I really liked; the mythology behind the cult, I.E what the townsfolk actually worshipped when you stripped away all the secrecy was pretty interesting. However, I felt it depended too much on atmosphere and not enough on plot, and I didn’t warm to any of the characters.
Searching (Aneesh Chaganty, 2018)
It’s difficult because technically, Searching is obviously an ingenious film. My issue is the way it ended, which was imo, super anti-climatic, and honestly pretty predictable in that it seemed like the writers just went out of their way *SPOILERS AHEAD* to make the culprit the person viewers would’ve ruled out by default for shock value, and then work out WHY that person was the culprit from there. I was expecting something a lot darker to be behind the protagonist’s daughter’s disappearance-irl, these situations usually are-and so maybe it’s just me being a bit of a sadist but I was disappointed by how things resolved themselves.
Deliver Us from Evil (Scott Derrickson, 2014)
So, this isn’t boring. It’s interesting to have a horror navigated through the lens of something as procedural as a police investigation. But ultimately, the acting isn’t great, there’s very few scary moments, and it’s a little cheesy. As horrors go, it’s pretty shallow-it is what it says on the tin.
Dumplin’ (Anne Fletcher, 2018)
I watched this right at the beginning of the year and I can’t remember all too much about it, but I remember not hating it? See, looking at the cast, Odeya Rush and Dove Cameron are both in it which would suggest I’d come away hating MYSELF instead but yeah...I got nothing.
Lights Out (David F.Sandberg, 2016)
The concept is very scary, the execution not so much, and the actual storyline is a little cheesy. I found myself just being like OH MY GOD, IT’S BELLA’S DAD FROM TWILIGHT! And then *SPOILERS AHEAD* getting mad that they did Charlie Swan dirty like that by killing him off in the first 10/15 minutes.
The Goldfinch (John Crowley, 2019)
So I LOVED the book of The Goldfinch. I read it after the Secret History and even though most people seem to prefer the latter, the former hit me right in the sweet spot. The length was almost one of my favourite things about it; I felt by the end that I came to know the character so well he felt like someone I knew in real life. When I heard Ansel Elgort was cast as Theo, I was really happy; I’m not necessarily a huge fan of him as an actor, I've only ever seen him in shitty teen-y dramas which I forced myself to like at the time E.G. The Fault in Our Stars and Divergent, but he looks kind of exactly how I pictured Theo looking. Almost like an Evanna Lynch as Luna Lovegood situation. And then honestly, the actual film came around, and I found myself much preferring the young Theo sections. I get that Theo is quite a muted character and I hate to properly slate anyone’s performance, but Ansel as him felt a bit flat. The casting in general was pretty whack; I love Nicole Kidman but she didn’t feel right as Mrs.Barbour and it seemed that they added a lot to her character to the detriment of Hobie’s character who was a much bigger part of Theo’s life in the book. Also, can we talk about Finn Wolfhard as Boris? I’m sorry, but that accent was godawful. Really bad. Boris’ accent was always supposed to be kind of ambiguous but this was just butchered Russian. Another gripe that my friend and I, who also read the book, had with the Vegas section of the film (which was otherwise probably the best part) was that they never properly explored the complexity of Boris and Theo’s relationship. Obviously I’m not saying that I want 2 minors to shoot a sex scene but it could have been referenced when they reunite as adults because the kiss on the head when they part in Vegas seemed misleadingly platonic. It was heavily implied in the book that there was some kind of love that went beyond friendship between the two and I didn’t get that in the film at all.
Ultimately, when you try and adapt a book as long as the Goldfinch, you’re always going to have some pacing issues and people complaining that things were left out or that X or Y character didn’t have enough screen time. But in ways, I think the fault here was trying to stay TOO faithful in the limited time available. They definitely could have focussed less on certain relationships and more on others, and when it comes down to it, I think we lost a lot of the grittiness of the original book for the sake of pretty visuals.
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (Quentin Tarantino, 2019)
Don’t get me wrong, this would 100% be in shit tier if it wasn’t for the last hour or so of the film and all the Manson lore which is so disappointing because I love Tarantino films and I love that era. As for the first couple of hours, I loved the vibe and I love Margot Robbie, and I think it was very respectful towards the Tate family (if anything radiated through the screen more than anything else it was Sharon Tate’s sweetness), but I just wasn’t that invested in Leo or Brad’s characters-it all just felt a bit pointless. I really like Brad Pitt and even that couldn’t really save it for me. Maybe if you took away the remaining 2 hours and 20 minutes of Leo DiCaprio making vague allusions to his own career to a girl only slightly younger than the combined age of all girlfriends past I’d enjoy it more but then I don’t think there’d be much footage left. I guess we should just be grateful that Tarantino managed to refrain from unnecessarily sprinkling the N-word into every other line of his script this time, right?
Also.
SO. MANY. FEET.
But then again, this did result in Brad publicly mocking Tarantino’s foot fetish during his speech at the SAG awards so...I’ll allow it. Sometimes kink shaming is okay. Especially when it’s this guy:
Isn’t it Romantic (Todd Strauss-Schulson, 2019)
I guess as romantic comedies go it wasn’t AWFUL because it was self-aware but still just not my cup of tea and it didn’t really make me laugh. Plus, I feel like it did just follow the plot of a conventional rom-com in the end so...what was it all for, you know?
Green Room (Jeremy Saulnier, 2016)
I think my disappointment with this film was a case of too high expectations. It wasn’t as gory as I hoped, in fact, there was very little on screen gore at all. I was just expecting something very messed up and I didn’t get that. But then again we did get Maeby from Arrested Development singing a fuck Nazis song so I guess that was a nice surprise?
Shit Tier
Birdbox (Susanne Bier, 2018)
First the disappointment of the Goldfinch, and now Birdbox (although they were chronologically the other way round but for the sake of this review, let’s just ignore that). It really is a bad year for bird films.
It’s weird because when this first came out I remember everyone hyping it up and making memes about it and stuff and then I actually watched it and dear god, it was boring. Honestly, who paid you lot to pretend you cared enough about it enough to make content? And where can I get in on this action?
I mean it didn’t start off terribly but then they killed off SARAH FUCKING PAULSON and somehow managed to make SANDRA FUCKING BULLOCK unlikeable. How does one do that? The mind baffles.
Pet Sematary (Kevin Kolsch & Dennis Widmyer, 2019)
The kid acting was bad, the leads were meh and there wasn’t one creepy moment. This should be SO MUCH MORE hard hitting than it actually was given the subject matter and it just fell completely flat. I will say, though, *SPOILERS AHEAD* that the ending was appropriately doom and gloom and even though I’ve seen lots of others say they hate it it was probably the only thing I actually liked.
The Lion King (Jon Favreau, 2019)
Seth Rogen and Billie Eichner were the only good things about this which is sad because I fucking love Donald Glover and I was so excited when he was cast as Simba. Like, it was pretty but empty and unnecessary and I’m not one of these people who think CGI remakes always have to be this way-I loved Dumbo and I liked the live-action Jungle Book too! I just think the people who made this cared too much about good CGI and realism and less about heart. There was no personality whatsoever and it’s such a waste when you think about the fact that they had Donald and Beyonce on board.
Red Sparrow (Francis Lawrence, 2018)
Eurgh, I hated this. I think Jennifer Lawrence is stunning and I usually love her films but every shot of her in this felt so male-gaze oriented, even the ones which were sexually violent, which I found to be completely unnecessary in the first place. At times it felt almost torture-porn-y which was not what I expected at all seeing as the marketing made it seem like some kind of female empowerment movie.
It Comes at Night (Trey Edward Shults, 2017)
I literally can’t remember fucking anything from this film. Clearly there is a very, very fine line between atmospheric and boring.
Warm Bodies (Jonathan Levine, 2013)
Maybe it’s because I watched this about 6 years too late and the whole human-girl-falls-in-love-with-supernatural-creature hype train has long since left the station but I couldn’t even finish it. Cutesy necrophilia ain’t for me, sorry Nicholas Hoult. Still love ya. You’ll always be Tony Stonem to me xoxo
Million Dollar Baby (Clint Eastwood, 2005)
I’m pretty sure this movie won a lot of awards so I’m sure this is a very unpopular opinion but the way this film ended was so...depressing. SO depressing. Did it have to be THAT depressing? The Always Sunny in Philadelphia episode outsold.
This is the range Oscar winning actress Hilary Swank wishes she had.
Would You Rather (David Guy Levy, 2013)
Started off well but became cheesy and predictable as it went on. The acting wasn’t great either plus there was another unnecessary attempted rape scene here too.
Christmas with the Kranks (Joe Roth, 2004)
So I watched this movie in the run up to Christmas because my best friend and her mum were referencing it like it was this cult classic (which I guess for some reason it is?) and I’m sorry to her and her mum but what the hell is this shit?! It’s not even so bad it’s good. It’s just bad.
The plot, the characters, EVERYTHING, it’s ridiculous on every level. I wasn’t into it enough to suspend my disbelief that anyone’s neighbours would actually care THAT much that they weren’t celebrating Christmas. Go on your damn cruise, take me with you whilst you're at it, ease my seasonal depression! I wouldn’t mind so much if it was funny or if the protagonists were likeable but it wasn’t and they’re not. Nobody’s actions made any sense. It didn’t put me in the Christmas spirit at all it just made me angry that Jamie Lee Curtis’ agent made her do this shit. She’s a scream queen goddess and she deserves better.
ANYWAY.
I’m now realising that I should have started on shit tier and worked my way up to god tier because now this post has ended on the rather sour note of me getting worked up over Christmas with the Kranks, lol. As always, these are just my opinions and I love to hear other people’s; when it comes to something like this, it’s all a matter of preference and there really isn’t a right or wrong answer, so I’m open to discussion!
With the Oscars less than a week away now I rushed a little to get this out on time, so apologies in advance if anything doesn’t make any sense or there’s any typos, I will look back over it at some point over the next couple of days to check.
But if you read to the end thank you! And stay tuned for my overview of Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 if that’s something you’re interested in as that will most likely be next post!
Lauren x
#cinematography#film#oscars#tier list#tier ranking#film tier#2019 films#horror#knives out#ana de armas#rian johnson#midsommar#ari aster#florence pugh#booksmart#kaitlyn dever#film review#film recommendation#musicals#disney#sorry to bother you#tessa thompson#lakeith stanfield#jennifer lawrence#hustlers#margot robbie#quentin tarantino#tarantino#once upon in hollywood#stephen king
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