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dandelionflower · 4 years ago

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(Some salt fic september)

Francois DuPont was an artistic school. With talented students varying from designers, to journalists, to DJs, to comic artists and writers. The art room of the school was always the busiest, the loudest, and the favorite room of the school.

So it would make sense for the school to have a yearly showcase. It was called a talent show once upon a time, but eventually the staff and students agreed that ‘talent show’ didn’t suit the talents the students were bringing to the table. Thus, the Francois DuPont showcase was born.

Students worked for months on their piece for the showcase. More than fifty percent of the works in the art room were pieces for the showcase.

It wasn’t mandatory by any means, but most students with a talent in the arts would participate. But with almost all the students participating and some having more than one piece to showcase, the show usually lasted a few days.

Lila, of course, didn’t know any of that so when asked if she was participating in the showcase in a few months, she grinned and said “Of course!”

Alya lit up. “Great! It’s going to be my first showcase too, and I want someone who knows what I’m going through. C’mon, we have to sign up.” And she dragged her into the halls.

Alya immediately wrote her name underneath the ‘verbal’ column, putting a ‘journalism’ next to it.

Lila surveyed the options. The easiest thing to fake would probably be photography, so she marked her name under ‘media’ and wrote a ‘photography’ next to it.

“Ooh, photography? What do you take pictures of? Because I know Mari’s been looking for a partner to take pictures of her designs with her.”

Lila bit back a grimace. “Thanks, but I prefer to take pictures of...” Art? Buildings? “Nature. I find that taking pictures of people is narcissistic as a society.”

“Aren’t you a model?” A judgmental voice came from behind her.

“I- well-“ She stuttered.

“It’s completely different, Felix! Lila doesn’t think her photo shoots are art worthy, she’s just doing it as a job.” Alya snapped, throwing an arm out to almost shield Lila from the chill radiating from Felix’s entire person.

“Very well.” Felix stepped around the two and signed his name in perfect cursive beneath Lila’s name and walked away without another word.

“That guy gives me the creeps.” Alix remarked as she scratched her name under the ‘performance’ column, then the ‘piece of art that cannot be moved’ section.

“And he’s doing photography too! Don’t worry Lila, there’s no way he’s better than you.” Alya grabbed her arm reassuringly and began walking with her back to class.

“Yeah, right...” Lila held in a wince as she found her way back to her seat.

Surely photography can’t be that hard.

—

It was that hard.

Lila had waited one week before the showcase to start taking pictures on her phone. She walked to the park and snapped a few pictures, called it a day, and went home.

They were terrible. Blurry, ugly, terrible.

The next thing she tried was looking up stock images and photoshopping the watermark off.

She was awful at photoshop.

Finally, she resorted to her escape plan.

“Sorry, Alya. But I completely forgot that I’m volunteering at the elementary school all day on the day of the showcase, and I can’t just cancel on them. I’m so sorry.”

“Girl, it’s no problem! Marinette told me that the showcase is going to go on for four days. We’ll just reschedule your slot. It’s no problem at all.”

“Great.” She muttered through gritted teeth. “See you then.”

...crap.

She had only one plan now.

And it was risky.

—

Lila walked into class on Monday, prepared for her showcase.

She explained to Alya that when she explained what was going on to the leader of her organization, they gave her a rain check.

“I’m just so thankful.” She brushed away a tear. “I really wanted to make sure I could see everyone’s talents.”

“That’s so sweet!” Rose cooed. “I can’t wait to see your pictures either!”

“I just hope they correctly portray the beauty of my subject...” Lila pressed a hand to her chest in modesty.

“Students, I need all of the media students to come to the art classroom with your flash drives and cameras.” Miss Bustier put her phone down and smiled. “And anyone who paired with a media student for their talent please also join the students in the art room.”

Lila stood and gave everyone a hug. “Wish me luck!”

She noticed Sabrina stand as well and accept a half hearted hug from Chloe and a nod of support from Max. Juleka stood too and hugged Rose tight.

“Bye Alya! Wish me luck.” Marinette appeared from seemingly nowhere and hugged Alya tight. “And don’t be worried about your presentation. We’ll find some time to rehearse before tomorrow.”

“Thanks girl. Look after Lila for me? She’s just as new as I am.”

Marinette’s eyes darkened for just a second, but she quickly broke into a grin. “No problem. And don’t be worried, Lila. I’m sure your photos are just unimaginable.”

“Thanks Marinette. That’s just so sweet of you.” They linked arms and waltzed out of the room.

The moment they were out of eye shot of any of their classmates, they stepped aside.

“You don’t even have pictures, do you?” Marinette growled.

“What do you mean Marinette? Of course I have pictures.” She smirked. Or at least, I will in just a minute.

—

The art room was bustling and chaotic. Perfect for a camera or flash drive to go missing.

Marinette was bombarded by a group of kids from Felix’s class.

“Ready to see the product of our hard work?” A girl with two dark buns on the top of her head asked.

“I hope so.” She gave them a bashful smile.

Lila stopped paying attention. She had a goal in mind.

Her eyes landed on an expensive looking camera sitting on a desk at the side of the room. A sitting duck.

With a side glance for witnesses, Lila walked right by the camera and slipped the memory card right out and into her awaiting palm.

With her goal met, she sat primly in her chair, waiting for them to be called to the stage.

“Alright, photographers, models, actors, directors!” The art teacher stood. “Let’s go!”

Lila skipped up to him, a look of concern on her face. “Sir?”

“Yes Lila?”

“My camera broke on my way here and all I have left of it is my memory card; is there still a way for me to present my photos?”

“Of course there is. Don’t you worry a bit.”

“Perfect!” She grinned.

Once backstage, each student needed to give the teacher their SD cards or cameras and wait to be called onstage to describe their works to the audience.

Lila spared a quick glance towards the onlookers. Talent scouts of every kind were sitting in plush, reserved seats, notebooks and pens at the ready.

She was the first one up, the first one they would see and, unless she used all of her charisma and improvising skill, the first one they would forget.

“...and now, Lila Rossi with her photography!”

Lila strutted out to the greetings of applause.

“Hello, and let me just say I am so honored to be here today, especially considering that a year ago I wasn’t expected to be able to walk to school every day. Photography was really the only thing that got me through the day.”

A murmur of pity rippled through the crowd.

“Pictures like this one.” She pressed the clicker and a picture appeared on the screen behind her.

A picture of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, mid-twirl in a beautiful hand-made dress.

Lila heard Alya gasp.

“I wanted to show simultaneously the mundanity of walking and the undeniable splendor of it. My dear friend Marinette had some designs she was willing to model for me to help achieve my goal. Marinette, come on out!” She held a hand out, daring Marinette to come out from where she was waiting to go next along with her other friends.

Felix stood behind her with a look of horror and disgust on his face; and a particularly fancy camera hanging around his neck. A very familiar camera.

“No? Okay then.” She turned back to the crowd. “She’ll be out with a different group; Mari doesn’t want me to have to share the spotlight, isn’t she sweet?”

The crowd applauded and Lila continued making up technical terms and thought processes for each photo, all of which were of Marinette in different designs.

“Thank you.” She bowed deep before walking off the stage.

Now to hold her breath and hope that Marinette, Felix and all their friends were too chicken to call her out onstage.

—

“Now, with their short film; ‘solving love,’ please welcome Bridgette Cheng, Claude Lambert, Mercury Bernard, Allegra Harthorn, Felix Culpa, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Hey everybody!” A boy with brown hair and a blue striped shirt grabbed the mic and shouted. “How are we doing today?”

A scattered amount of applause.

“Nice! I’m Claude, and this is Bridgette.”

The girl with the buns waved.

“We were the main idea folks for this video; but the idea only came after the filming.”

Bridgette grabbed the mic. “We asked out friends if we could film them, and then a few weeks ago, we reviewed the film and noticed something... interesting.”

“Allegra here,” a girl with a long blonde braid waved, “did the music and Mercury,” a boy with dark glasses and a green beret, “did the narration. You’ll be seeing more of them soon. My cousin Mari,” Marinette waved, “and Felix are the main subjects of the film. You would have seen more of them, but for some reason Felix’s memory card went missing.”

Lila swallowed, this wasn’t great. The seeds of dissent were planted and now she had to risk either spinning another fake story or hoping that it all went well.

It’s not like they had any proof though; she should be fine.

“Anyway, here’s ‘Solving Love.’”

They all stepped to the side and the video began with a smooth piano.

“Love.” The screen showed couples going up to Andre’s and sharing ice cream. “The answer to everything. To ourselves, to the meaning of life, to the questions we cannot ask.”

“But how? How do we get from complete strangers, to people so close they are the same person?” The video changed to a showing of Marinette and Felix shaking hands, both with sardonic smirks. “People rarely get to see the entire process of when people fall in love; there are always pieces missing, hidden moments only for the people in question to recall. Love is left for the investigator to discover for themselves, when the time is right.”

“But maybe,” it showed Marinette talking animatedly, as Felix yawns beside her, “maybe one day, we’ll be lucky enough to see most of the picture.” Felix’s eyes droop and his head falls to rest atop Marinette’s, in the beginnings of a nap. Marinette flushes red.

The rest of the video shows the stages of Marinette and Felix’s relationship, from sarcastic rivals, to peers, to friends, to partners. The narrator described different relationships and how love is a constant through all of them.

The video showed Marinette dancing, twirling in a brilliant dress as Felix kneels and snaps pictures. “Ah, but is this all of it?” They lean down for a swift kiss. The image pauses there. “The full picture? Or is it only a snapshot,” the screen lights up white, “a minor clue, to solving love?”

The auditorium was quiet for what seemed like minutes. Then, the room burst into uproarious applause; a standing ovation.

Lila growled as she turned to sulk and maybe get her makeup so she could fake an injury and get some pity points to heal her bruised ego.

She ran face first into the grey suit of Mr. Damocles.

“Oh, hello sir.” She beamed. “Is there a problem?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Yes Miss Rossi, there is. Did you take those pictures of Miss Dupain-Cheng? Because that video tells a different story.”

“Yes sir, I swear it.”

“You swear it, huh? Well you best come with me to the office. Miss Dupain-Cheng and her friends will join us when they’re done.”

“What?”

“Miss Rossi, you are accused of stealing Mr Culpa and Miss Dupain-Cheng’s creative work. We will be calling your mother to discuss this.”

Back on stage the crowd of students and talent agents alike had taken to shouting questions to the group of students.

#ml salt #lila salt #felinette #ml felix #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #quantic kids #ml claude #ml allegra #ml mercury #ml bridgette #ml alya

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what-the--curtains · 4 years ago

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In a Week

Part 1/4 - A storm blows into town

(Frankie “catfish” Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: a drive down to a friends wedding gets complicated when you fail to head a warning.

Authors notes: Hello! Another fic cause it keeps snowing here and I’m SICK OF IT but wouldn’t mind it if I was stuck with Frankie💕. Anyways hope you enjoy as always comments are welcome but be nice!

TW: mentions of dead sibling (war related), swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship (based off of personal experience)

Tagged list: @agingerindenial

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~There was nothing worse than a February wedding, well at least one that took place in the frigid northern temperatures you were currently residing in. So you were eternally grateful that your best friend Stella had chosen to have hers down in sunny south Carolina where she had just accepted her first permanent hospital position. She was marrying her first love, a fact you’d usually cringe at but, they were extremely cute together. Stella had met Genevieve through her brothers Will and Benny, well more specifically Will, who had drunkenly run his head through a window one night. This incident resulted in two things, first a nickname that would stick with Will for the rest of his life and a late night call to Stella asking her to come down to the hospital to pick him up. The boys had put Stella down as their emergency contact in an effort to keep their antics hidden from their parents who they knew would only worry. The nurse patching up her idiot brother was none other than Genevieve who was working through her university's clinical course, and the rest? Well, the rest was history

You’d met Genevieve, as well as Will and Benny, sporadically throughout the 8 years you had roomed with Stella, first during your undergraduate degree at Boston University and then again at Stanford while attending medical school. You’d choses Stella as a roommate without much thought, but after just a few weeks together you were inseparable up until the day that you were assigned to your residency. You were slightly jealous when you found out that she would be spending the next four years in the warm embrace of Carolina (and Gen) while you would be living alone throughout the freezing Chicago winters. The pagne of jealousy didn’t last long though, Chicago med was your first choice after all. So here you were, in the last year of residency and in the middle of a brutal -20 degree winter, preparing to drive the 13 hours down to watch Stella get married. You’d considered flying but you knew how fickle airplanes could be in the winter and the last thing you wanted was a delayed flight because a door had frozen shut. Your friends had tried to convince you that driving down alone was far too dangerous a venture and none were more concerned than Santiago Garcia.

You’d known Santiago your whole life. Him being your brother's best friend resulted in him spending a lot of, some may argue too much, time at your house throughout both your childhoods. Your brother, Parker, was 8 years your senior, an age gap that often resulted in an argument over which one of you was the accident. An argument which usually ended with an agreement that in all likelihood you both were. Every summer from before you were born to the time they left for the military the two boys were a constant presence in your life. Hell, even after he left you’d watched him grow as he passed through your household over Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. One thing was for sure, if Parker was there Satiago Garcia wasn't far behind. He was also there the day you received the news that your brother had gone MIA and he was by your side at the funeral, as you watched the commanding officer hand your mother the flag your brother had died for. After the funeral, life continued to move on around you as did everyone else. You always found it funny how quickly you were supposed to recover from loss, apparently a week was long enough to get over it. At least according to the university and your employers who had started calling with empty condolences that quickly led to the real reason they were calling. Always wanting to know when you’d be coming back. After your brother's passing, Santiago took over his role of big brother to you. He read over your med school applications, scared off potential boyfriends and got all the embarrassing video footage of you at your graduations. He was a permanent fixture in your life, one you hoped you’d never lose. Even now as he continued to blow up your phone in an attempt to sway you from driving up alone, you were thankful for him. Over the past 5 days he sent you lengthy lectures in the form of voice messages and a slew of articles detailing the statistics of winter related accidents. His name pops up on your screen as does a picture you’d taken one night after he'd passed out drunk and you’d stuffed cheetos up his nostrils, an act he has yet to forgive you for. You contemplate ignoring the call, but knowing you were about to go radio silent for the next 8 hours you decide to pick it up.

"Hey Santi what’s up?" you ask, as you half heartedly spread cream cheese onto a poorly toasted bagel.

"Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?” Even over the phone you could hear the layers of charm he was currently plastering on.

"What do you want?" you say, tossing the knife into the sink.

"Hey! Who says..." he starts, but you don't let him finish.

"Santi I've known you long enough to know your ‘please I need something’ tone by heart" you laugh.

"Okay well I still value you, but ya I absolutely need a favour" Santiago admits.

"Shoot." you say taking a bite of the bagel.

"I need you to pick up a friend of mine, his flight got cancelled. He's in Chicago at the moment, can you drive him down to the wedding?"

"Ughhh are you kidding me Santi? I’m just about to leave" you say through a half chewed mouthful.

"Please! He’s a great guy, Gen wants him at the wedding, he was in basic with us, so a frequent visitor to the hospital. He's usually pretty quiet so you won’t have to spend that much time making small talk, which I know you hate." He pleaded. For anyone else a last minute change like this would have gotten a laugh, and nothing more, but this was Garcia, and you knew he’d do anything for you, so you’d do this for him.

“Fine” you begrudgingly agree “text me his number, I'm heading out in 40 minutes so he'll have to wait at the airport for a bit" you say, finishing your breakfast.

"You’re a godsend! Seriously, what would I do without you?" He chuckles.

"Nothing good i'm sure, besides I figure I probably owe you like, 1000 favours after you

know....'' the phone goes quiet. Five years later and it still stung like it was yesterday, for you both. He was your family, but he was Santiago’s best friend, you knew the loss was equally as devastating for him. You also knew he'd been having a particularly hard time recently, after what he termed a mission gone wrong a few years back. Every time you'd ask about it he’d shut you down harshly refusing to share any details with you.

"You don’t owe me anything. We're family. Thank you for driving him. I owe you a drink at the wedding!" He responds, back to his chipper self. If it wasn’t for the silence he may just have convinced you that he really was doing fine. You toss the phone on the counter and rub your temples mentally rearranging your entire itinerary for the day. You'd already rifled through the gym bag that was constraining way more clothes than you’d need for the week. Everything you needed was there from bathing suits to your wedding outfit to the special lingerie you’d packed in case you ran into an old flame. If by in case you meant, for when you ran into him. You don’t know how but he’d gotten invited to the wedding reception. Stella hated the guy, so it must have been through Genevieve who likely would have felt bad excluding him, even if he was only a friend of a friend.

You’d met Jonathan in your undergrad and you had been together throughout various points in your life, though never in any official sense. He’d made that evidently clear to you at any opportunity he got. He kept you on a short leash, a retainer if you will. Only coming to you between relationships with women that he deemed worthy enough to be his girlfriends. You knew it was toxic, and your friends constant reminders of how unhealthy it was didn’t fall on deaf ears. The way he would use you and lose you always ended with you being an unstable and emotional wreck, only solidifying his claims of you being crazy. You hated it, the way he made you feel so small, but he held this strange power over you. A power not even you could explain. His redeeming qualities could only be found in the bedroom, he was the best you’d ever had, so you forgave his shitty personality. Always gravitating back towards him, restarting the cycle. You knew what it meant to do the same activity over and over expecting different results, but this was different. At least that's what you told yourself, as you’d traced your hands over the lingeries lace that morning, knowing it was bought for a man who would never appreciate it.

Brushing all thought of him aside for the time being you grab the duffle off the floor and sling it over your shoulder. Walking out into the cold February air you watch as your breath transforms into a small cloud in front. Your chest hurts and nose hairs freeze as you inhale, tossing your bag into the back seat before leaning into the car and starting it up. The engine sputters for a moment before breaking out into a loud rumble, maybe it was a good thing someone else would be in the car with you after all. You jog back inside to your townhouse and grab the cooler where you’d stored the snacks and sandwiches you’d prepared for the road, now realizing it likely wouldn’t be enough to feed two people. Tossing on your winter jacket you lock the door behind you and slide your sunglasses down over your eyes shielding them from the afternoon sun as you make your way into your car.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You pull up to the departure gate still cursing at the idiot who had almost smashed into you while they were going the wrong way down a one way street. You hated driving in the city and you couldn’t wait to get out on the open road, even if it was going to be with a total stranger. You find yourself second guessing your decision to drive down state with someone you’d never met. In all reality, even if Santi was vouching for him, he could be a serial killer, plenty of people had nice things to say about Ted Bundy before he got caught.

You shake off the nervous feeling taking over your body, deciding to put your faith in your friends judgment, at least for now. Worse comes to worse you had a pocket knife stowed within reach. As long as he didn’t complain about any playlists or podcasts and understood your need for complete silence from time to time, you’d get on just fine. Besides it was only a 13 hour drive, and you could put up with anything for 13 hours.

You open up your phone and pull up the conversation you and Santiago had been having, scrolling up until you see the contact he’d sent you which read “ Catfish”. You click on it hoping to get the guys real name as a result but no luck, you should have asked Garcia for more information about this “Catfish” guy. You click on the number opting to call, not wanting to waste time wondering if he’d gotten the text you’d sent. The phone rings a few times before you hear someone pick up.

"Catfish?" you say, less confident in yourself than you had been dialing.

"In the flesh, who's this?" the deep voice responds.

"Your ride, Santiago’s friend" you offer, hoping that this wasn't some elaborate prank.

"Oh shit ya, Pope told me you’d be later than you said. I'm still downstairs" he says.

"Of course he did the little shit" you mutter, causing Catfish to laugh "Im outside now, departures second floor"

“I'll be out in a second" he says, hanging up the phone before you can say anything else.

You plug your phone back into the aux setting it back to the playlist you’d made last night during another bout of insomnia. You're checking your email to see if anything came up from the hospital when a tap at the window causes you to jump. As you look over you see the man who must be “Catfish” gently tapping on the glass. You unlock the door, popping the trunk as you slide out the driver's seat.

“You can put your bags back here. Fuck!" you exclaim when you trunk won’t open, likely having frozen shut again.

"Here" he says dropping his bag on the salted pavement and heaving up on the trunk freeing it from its icy constraints with a relative ease causing him to smile down at you.

"I loosened it" you say defensively, as he tosses his bag in the back still grinning when he

slams the trunk shut.

"Fransico Morales, though most people just call me Frankie" he says as you sit back down in the driver seat rubbing your hands together to warm them and applying some chapstick.

"Y/N, nice to meet you Frankie, seat warmers are here, use as your leisure. There are snacks in the back, but no touching the phone.” you rattle off.

“Aye aye captain” he responds, saluting you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Santiago was right, Frankie was quiet. He offered you little in conversation or any noise at all really. You’d only heard him laugh maybe twice, once while listening to a podcast episode and then again when Britney Spears made her appearance on your soundtrack. "What? She’s America's sweetheart" you say trying to sound offended, but smiling when you notice his lopsided grin. You’d attempted to open up a dialogue with him a few times, but his one worded responses told you all you needed to know, so you stopped forcing it. It wasn’t a hostile environment, it was more of a comfortable silence one that you usually only found in people you had known for years. The silence gave you an opportunity to study the man’s features, glancing away from the road every now and then to slowly piece together his profile. You had pegged him as attractive the second his face had appeared in your passenger window, but it wasn't until now that the details that made him so could be seen; relatively tall, tanned skin, soft curls, deep brown eyes. Glancing over again you notice a concerned look spread across his face.

"What?" you ask, nervous that you’d creeped him out with your excessive, and not so subtle staring.

"Storms coming our way" he says, nodding up at the darkening sky.

"We’re not supposed to get snow for another week, I checked” you reassure.

"Things change" he says

" Sky’s clear, so we don’t stop for another 3 hours" you say, definitively.

" Your funeral, well mine as well I guess" he chuckles, earning him an icy glare from you.

“It's nothing, trust me” you affirm, confident in your ability to read a weather app.

" No one likes a know-it-all" he mutters still grinning.

"Could you help me with something" you ask smiling sweetly

"Sure" he responds, eager to help.

"Pull up the map and show me when I asked for your opinion"

"Eyes on the road” he says, causing your grip to tighten around the wheel.

Well crow wasn’t your favourite food to eat, but here you were eating it. Turns out Frankie was right. A storm was heading your way and it hit hard and fast. You’d managed to make it to a hotel off the freeway just as it came into full effect. What had started as a very pleasant road trip had quickly soured when you refused to apologize for not heading his warning. This paired with the 6 hours you had already driven had left you both irritable so much so that Frankie was now refusing to be any use in respect to figuring out what your next move was going to be.

"Hi" you say to the equally tired looking receptionist. Apparently, every other person travelling through Illinois had also missed the memo about the storm and were now all stuck at the same hotel.

"Hi, so sorry for the wait" she says, forcing a smile in a way that you recognized from your retail days.

"No need to apologize! What are the odds you have any rooms available?" you ask rubbing your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

"Let me check, we have one... suite left on the... fourth floor” she says after a few moments of typing away into the computer.

"Perfect we’ll take it." you say, tapping your credit card to the machine. You walk back over to Frankie who was sitting with the bags and hand him a room key. He exhales deeply, not looking up from his phone as he takes it from you.

"There was only one room left so we’ll have to share" you say.

"Fine," he says, standing up, grabbing his bag and heading over to the elevator not bothering to wait for you. You watch as the elevator doors open and close behind him. Sure maybe it was your fault that you were stuck in this situation, but that was pretty rude. You push your way into the room after struggling with the key for a moment. Frankie must have been eager to get to sleep, or at least eager to not converse with you as he’d wasted no time in unpacking his bag and getting ready for bed. Your eyes move from the clothes on the floor, to the suit hung up in the closet, to the closed bathroom door. You hear the toilet flush and watch the door open as you drop your bag down onto the living room floor, grabbing the toiletries out of your bag's side pocket. You were far too tired to wrestle down to your pyjamas so you opted to stay in the leggings and sports bra you’d been wearing all day. Yes it was gross, but you couldn't be bothered to change at this point. Your eyes follow Frankie as he exits the bathroom in a green cotton t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts. You continue to watch as he plugs his phone in and shifts beneath the covers. Guess you were on the floor then. The couch was far too small, and you really weren't trying to break your neck sleeping on its arm rest.

"Pass me a pillow" you huff, as you grab a glass from the nightstand, turning back around to fill it up with water from the sink.

Why?" he asks, watching you take a sip from the overfilled cup.

"So I can sleep on the floor." you state, as if it was obvious.

“No, I’ll do that, you can have the bed" he says shifting up and pushing the blankets off himself. He hadn’t realized you were so averse to sharing a bed with him, but you had just met so he guessed it was fair enough.

"I’m not the one with the bad back old man" you state, the words sounding a lot harsher than you’d intended, but you were younger and thus more likely to recover.

"Fair point, but you’re not sleeping on the floor. Santi wouldn’t allow it. We can put up a pillow barrier between us if that would make you feel more comfortable" he offers, any hostility you had felt from him earlier now turned to tenderness. In all honesty, you hadn’t realized that sharing the bed was an option.

"I need two to sleep with so no point in making a barrier" you say, begrudgingly placing the glass back down on the nightstand "Shift" you say, fanning your hand.

"No" he says looking you dead in the eye "I got here first" he’s grinning slightly, further indicating he’d gotten over his anger from earlier. You could have just walked around to the other side, but for some unknown reason you don’t. Instead, you swing your leg over him pushing yourself up onto the bed, straddling him for the briefest moment before rolling over to the other side.

"Couldn’t have just walked around?" he chuckles

"Couldn’t have just shifted over?" you parrot back, moving onto your back, closing your eyes and dozing off.

#frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #catfish x you #catfish x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #in a week #part 1

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vintage-squid · 4 years ago

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Threading Our Future

Summary: When up-and-coming designer Virgil Psykhe lands an interview with his favourite fashion label, he has no idea that the attention he's drawn to himself is being taken away from someone very important: the Lady of the Summer Court. Scorned and furious, she sends her son to kill the insolent human.

But when Janus lays eyes on Virgil for the first time, his breath is stolen by the fluttering of his heart and he knows he won't be able to follow through with his mother's orders.

A modern fae re-telling of the Eros and Psyche myth!

Pairing: Virgil/Janus (background Logan/Patton) Characters: Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remy, Patton, Logan, Remus Rating: T Warnings: mild violence and blood mention, nonsexual nudity, literal sleeping together Word count: 10 363

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Virgil Psykhe groaned as he stood from his chair, bracing both hands against the small of his back and pressing until he felt a satisfying series of pops from his hips and up his spine. He should know better by now than to spend hours on end hunched over his projects without taking proper breaks, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Once he got focused, his whole world narrowed to sketch, cut, sew, trim. It was like he was possessed by some crazy spirit who deemed his sarcastic, introverted ass worthy enough to use as a vessel for creation. At least, that’s how he described the near-frenzy he would fall into when his worried fathers questioned after his health.

Was he getting enough sleep? (No.) When was the last time he’d had something to eat? (Did the granola bar he had earlier count?) Would he be willing to drink more water if Papa cut up some citrus to add? (Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea...)

He knew their fretting came from a place of love. As the youngest of three, he was the baby of the family. Both of his older sisters had married a few years ago, now living with their husbands in a couple of larger, nearby cities. They had told their parents the distant moves were for their husband’s jobs, but Virgil knew better. His sisters had never seemed to fit with the unique … energy of their small hometown.

Virgil, however, had yet to even move out, let alone find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. Thankfully, while his dads did want him to eventually find love, they were mostly just happy to support his dreams of becoming a famous designer.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced around his cluttered studio. Like he would ever actually be a big name in the fashion industry. Yeah, sure, he wanted more than anything to get his designs out there for models of all backgrounds and appearances to showcase the beauty that was in every body type, but he didn’t want his first name attached to that kind of attention. Nope. No thanks. He would much rather people enjoy his work for what it was, not just because it came from him.

Maybe a pseudonym would work? Eh, he still had time to think about it anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to be traveling far from his studio in his dads’ basement any time soon after all. Picking up his phone, Virgil glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Shit, he was late to meet up with Remy, and he had forgotten to plug his charger in. He groaned as he shoved his phone in his pocket anyway and grabbed his wallet, headphones, and house key. That drama queen was probably going to bitch and moan about being made to wait until Virgil finally agreed to pay for his drink. Not that Virgil really minded, but he had appearances to keep up.

With one last glance around to make sure he had everything, he dashed up the stairs to head out.

-----

Jogging down the street, Virgil turned past the Spirits’ Temple, where the town’s inhabitants left offerings to the spirits of the forest on the first of every month. Tradition claimed that each month was to be dedicated to one of the twelve local spirits who held dominion over different areas of day-to-day life, and that by honouring them, the town would prosper. At the height of the monthly festivals, there would be candles lining the marble steps, fake vines and string lights wrapped around the temple’s stone columns, and a wide spread of wine and honey-sweetened foods to be served. Some of this would be up for grabs on the buffet table, but a selection was always saved to be placed in one of the twelve bronze braziers, which one depended on the month, lining the sides of the temple. Each brazier was set in front of a stone statue carved with a symbol that denoted which spirit it belonged to.

At some point during the evening, everyone in town would take a moment to approach the massive fireplace along the back wall of the temple and toss in a part of their meal with a quietly murmured prayer for luck in some strange-sounding language. To this day, Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying, but his dad had taught him the correct pronunciation, and he was too superstitious not to follow through. Besides, it wasn’t like he could look too ridiculous doing it when literally everyone else was doing the same thing.

Approaching one of the two coffee shops in town, and the only one he ever frequented, Virgil shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of weird small-town rituals. Inside, it was easy to spot Remy sitting at their usual table with his sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt and a drink already in hand. As he slid into his side of the booth, Virgil was surprised to see his favourite order (hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and a slice of banana bread) already waiting for him.

“I was gonna apologize for being late, but clearly I don’t have to,” he said, glancing up and narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”

Remy threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Hey now, why did I have to do something wrong in order to surprise my best friend with his favourite goodies?”

Virgil snorted and crossed his arms, giving his friend a Look.

“Fine, fine!” Remy blew out a sigh and dropped his hands onto the table. “So, maybe I did do something, and maybe you’re gonna be a little mad at me for it, but I promise it’s okay! It’s gonna pay off and you’re totally going to thank me for this one day!”

Virgil dropped his face into his hands with a groan and dug the heels of his palms against his eyelids. “Just spit it out, Remy. What the fuck did you do?”

“Remember that photoshoot we did a couple weeks back with the latest ‘famous-one-day’ designs you sewed up?” Virgil could hear the familiar sounds of Remy typing on his phone. “Well babe, you’ve been making ‘one days’ for too long! So I decided to make ‘one day’ into ‘today’! Ta-dah!”

Bracing himself, Virgil peeked out from the dark safety of his hands, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision and focus on the phone screen wavering in front of him. Right there, staring back at him from within Remy’s well-manicured clutch, was an email addressed to Penelope with attached photos from their shoot.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t sen-”

“I sent our pics to your favourite fashion label! The one and only Penelope! Known for their breathtaking lines like ‘Faith’ and ‘Fidelity’ that reimagined what it meant to be fashionable! And the best part!” Remy paused for dramatic effect, all but wiggling in his seat. “They emailed me back! They want to do an interview with you next month on the first!”

There was a loud thud as Virgil’s head met the table. If they hadn’t been sitting in public, he definitely would have started screaming too. Instead, all that came out was a muttered, “I fucking hate you. Why would you do this to me? You know I suck at talking to people; they’re gonna hate me and then tell all of the other companies to never work with me and then I’ll definitely never make it.”

A hand settled on top of his head and began to run through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp at the same time. “Don’t be so dramatic, Virge. This is gonna be great for you, I promise. When have I ever led you astray?”

Virgil glared at his friend and opened his mouth, but Remy cut him off.

“Ahp-ahp! Rhetorical question, babes. You're going to thank me for this, I promise.”

When Virgil remained silent, the hand that had been petting his hair slid down to cup his cheek and lift his chin up.

“Hey,” his best friend murmured softly. “If you really, really don’t want to do this, I can email them back and cancel, but I think you should go for it, Virge. This could be your big break!” Remy’s thumb had begun running a soothingly back and forth over his cheek. Virgil didn’t even try to hide the way he relaxed into the comforting gesture, leaning more weight into his friend’s palm. “I’ll even come with you to the interview, okay? I’ll be right there the entire time - gotta make sure they meet your number one model after all,” he added with a playful wink.

Damn Remy and his extroverted influence. Virgil sighed and sat up fully, reluctantly pulling away from the comforting hold and silently relieved when Remy’s hand dropped to link their fingers instead. “I guess as long as you’re there too, then I won’t be the only one making a fool of myself.��

“That’s the spirit!” Remy cheered, ignoring the looks some of the other patrons shot their way at the noise.

Keeping their hands interlocked, Virgil picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip of the sweet ambrosia as he listened to his best friend ramble about his plans for their future.

-----

Somehow, the word got out. Everyone and their cousin’s dog knew about Virgil’s interview and had seen some of the photos that had been leaked. All of them wanted to get a glimpse of not only the representatives of the big fashion label (who may as well have been celebrities to the small community), but also the unobtrusive young man who had brought the attention onto their town.

Virgil clung to Remy’s hand as they approached the café where the interview was going to be taking place. It wasn’t their usual haunt, something Virgil was grateful for; if things went south, he didn’t want that memory attached to one of his favourite places. People were already gathering outside, gossiping amongst themselves or attempting to peer through the front windows. He longed to pull his hood up and hide his face, but Papa had spent all morning helping him make sure his hair and make-up (and everything else) looked interview ready. Not to mention he wasn’t even wearing his favourite hoodie to tuck himself away into.

At Remy’s insistence, he had donned one of the outfits he made last year. The top was made of a flowy material, tighter at the wrists and loose in the arms, wrapping comfortably around his chest to tie in the front above his navel. It was sewn from a high-quality plum linen with a black lace webbing over top. For the bottom, Virgil had pieced together different shades of grey and black fabrics until he had a pair of loose patchwork pants that sat at the hips and left a strip of his stomach visible. He had completed the look with a fresh pair of high-tops that tied the look together despite the discordant styles. With one last look to his best friend for reassurance, Virgil nodded and they waded through the crowd together, on their way to their future.

-----

Singing to herself, Roman stepped through the woods with all the ethereal grace granted to her by her station. As she made her way to the quaint little human town, Roman was accompanied by a pair of mourning doves. While one had alighted on her shoulder, the other fluttered about, and both were cooing in harmony with her otherworldly song.

Her body was draped in a sheer chiffon number, as blood-red as the wine she drank from each year at the celebration of her power and beauty. It was naught much more than a thin layer of fabric over one shoulder and wrapped about her shapely waist, exposing one breast and leaving little work for the imagination on the rest of her body. The finest embroidery coloured the lower hem with twisting rose vines, as if they had sprung from the ground she walked on and reached up for her attention. Her hair was left to tumble free, as wild and untamed as the waves she had been born from so long ago. The Lady of the Summer Court had arrived.

In no time at all, the temple the humans of the village had built for her and her compatriots so long ago came into view. Roman hurried her steps, eager to feast on the delightful offerings she knew would be awaiting her. She hoped one of them left pomegranate; it was her favourite. The plump fruit so easy to tear open to reveal the juicy flesh inside - and the crunchy seeds! Oh!

Grinning, Roman moved around the side of the temple, stepping between the columns to slip inside and make her way towards her ceremonial statue along the right with the other ruling gentry of the Seelie Court. However, when she got close enough to see into the massive dish, indignation began to boil in her blood. Before her, in her brazier, lay half as many offerings as were given to her in the years passed. She looked around, hoping to find something else had been set aside or misplaced, but there was nothing. Seething, she spun on her heel and stalked towards the front of the temple in search of answers.

Outside, two attendants were working to douse the remaining candles to be collected on the morrow after Roman had departed. Well, they were certainly going to be in for a surprise when they returned to find their pitiful offerings still there in the morning. Even with the great distance between them, as a fae, Roman’s sharp ears did not struggle to overhear the conversation between the two humans.

“-believe something like this could happen in our little town,” the one on the right was saying. “Especially from that quiet kid! What’d you say his name was again?”

“He’s the Psykhe’s youngest boy, Virgil.

“No kidding! Sam was telling me the kid showed up for the interview wearing this wild statement piece, like a full fashion runway. I bet his dads sure are proud. I heard half the town was outside Burnsen’s hoping to get a front-row seat. They certainly weren’t here, that’s for sure.”

“Damn shame,” the second human agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn out this small for a Spirit’s Night. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

The pair continued their gossip as they finished with the candles and moved onto tidying some of the other nonessential decorations. Roman wasn’t interested in listening any further; she had what she needed. Turning away from the pitiful little temple those putrid humans had so desecrated on her day of honour, the Lady of the Summer Court stormed back into the forest, seething vitriol.

“How dare these humans offer this worthless boy the worship and reverence meant for me! My status is all but set in the very stars and they do nothing more than drag it through the muddy earth!” She screeched, scaring away the doves who had been lingering nearby. “So much for me, the ancient mother of this forest who feeds and fosters the very nature of this place! If nothing lusts, then nothing reproduces! Did they ever consider that before they forced me to associate my status with a mere mortal child?”

As Roman cried out, the very trees parted for her, leaning their trunks away and raising their boughs out of the path of the furious fae. She paid them little heed as she marched down a trail long familiar. “Won’t this boy, whoever he is, be glad to know he has claimed the honours that are due to me by right? Not for much longer, this I swear by my very name! He will regret this beauty to which he has no claim!”

At the climax of her tirade, Roman stopped before the ivy-woven doors of her son’s lofty domain. She would teach this Virgil what happened when you scorned the fae.

-----

Across town, still wearing the outfit and makeup from earlier, though much disheveled, Virgil ran as if his life depended on it. At this point, though, his life may as well have been over, so what was the point in struggling on? Down the street and through the park, he sprinted until he could go no further and crumbled to the ground at the top of the large hill that overlooked the fish ponds. On his hands and knees, he clutched at the damp earth and panted heavily through his heaving sobs.

It was over. Penelope didn’t want to pick him up as a designer. Sure, they liked the selection that Remy had sent them, enough to come talk to him about it, but when the representatives had taken a look through the rest of his portfolio? They hadn’t said they hated it outright, but Virgil was certain his designs were too gothic, too dark, too risky for mainstream fashion. They were going to talk with some of the higher-ups back at the designer studio, but Virgil wasn’t going to be holding his breath. He’d seen their expressions clear as day while they flipped through his work.

Collapsing forward, Virgil buried his face into the crook of his elbow and curled his knees towards his chest, sobbing even harder. He had told Remy after the interview that he needed some space, but now that he was out here alone, he wanted nothing more than a hug from his best friend. Fuck, how was he going to tell his dads about this? It would break their heart!

Virgil shook his head free of the thought; he couldn’t handle any more right now. So he lay on the ground with his cheek pressed against the cool night grass, and cried until he passed out from exhaustion.

-----

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Virgil stirred when he felt a pair of arms slide under his body and hoist him up into a strong hold. His head lolled to the side until his temple dropped against a firm body. Then, a kiss was pressed to his forehead, tickling his skin with...a mustache?

“Go back to sleep, little human,” a high, scratchy-sounding voice said. “Jay doesn’t want you to see anything just yet! We don’t want to ruin the surprise, eh?”

Virgil’s face scrunched in confusion, but before he could crack his eyes open to see who was carrying him, a warm breath blew across his face and carried him off to his dreams like a gentle breeze spiraling high into the air.

-----

When Virgil woke for the second time, it was with far more peace and tranquility than he usually felt when greeting the day. His bed was extra soft and luxurious beneath the swell of his hip and he was comfortably warm, though he couldn’t feel the usual weight of his blanket. Stretching his arms far above his head, Virgil suddenly snapped his eyes open when his fingertips were greeted not with the hard wall behind his headboard, but with a damp, spongy texture instead.

Scrambled to his feet, he looked around to discover he was at the edge of a clearing, carpeted with a thick moss that his feet sank slightly into and surrounded by trees who towered so far above him their canopies seemed lost secrets of the sky. To one side a stream babbled a song, its waters bright as day and clear as glass. Breathless, he turned a slow circle, feasting on the seemingly supernatural wonders with starving eyes. The sight that greeted Virgil as he turned full around, however, could have subsisted him for a lifetime.

At the very heart of the grove, sitting in its focal point, rose what he could only describe as a palace. The trees which made up its supporting columns were an ivory birch, though much wider than any Virgil had ever seen, with leaves seemingly grown from pure gold that glittered in the dappled sunlight they let through. Framed by these otherworldly goliaths, ivy vines had been woven together to form a grand door which opened of its own accord and bid Virgil to enter. Under a spell spun from his own awe and curiosity (and probably some of whatever magic this place had to be made of), Virgil strode forward.

Inside, the palace seemed to emulate its own light, reflecting off the vaulted ceiling and highlighting the polished stone walls decorated with endless silver reliefs of animals real and imagined. Virgil trailed his fingertips along the slithering spine of a snake as he passed, admiring the lifelike detail in each scale, but before he could venture much further, a voice spoke.

“Welcome.”

Virgil jumped, spinning around to search for the source of the voice, but no one was there. When they spoke again, it sounded like they were right over his shoulder.

“You have been invited into the home of the fae as a guest of honour, Virgil.” The man in question felt a strange twinge in his chest hearing his name from the voice. “If you follow the doors to your left, you will find a dining hall in which you may eat your fill; the foods are from your home world and you need not fear consuming them. To your right lay the bathing and bed chambers. Please, make yourself at home. You are safe here, my darling.”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Virgil called out into the empty room.

There was a small pause before the voice replied. “You may call me Janus for the time being. It matters not how I know your name, but you need not worry that I will give it to anyone else.”

“Not creepy at all,” Virgil murmured before raising his voice once more. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Ahh, my darling, take care with your curiosity before it gets you into trouble. Fret not, I am here with you, though you cannot see me. I know it is hard, but you must trust in me, my love. I shall visit you this evening after the light of day has given way to the dark of night. So long as you promise not to look upon my face and let me remain shrouded in shadows, then I shall answer more of your questions then.”

“What? I’m supposed to trust you, but I’m not allowed to look at your face? What the fuck, dude?”

“I understand this may be a cause for alarm, but you must understand my perspective, dear one. If you were to gaze upon me uninhibited, I fear you would not fall in love with me in a manner which would be best for us both. Promise to me, Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. Why is this so important to you anyway?”

“Thank you. I wish to form a genuine bond with you, beloved, and I cannot do that if you are influenced by my appearance. That is not how I desire to court my future husband.”

“Husband? What do you mean future husband!?”

Virgil stood in place, waiting for any further response from the invisible person, but it seemed his host had vanished into the very air he spoke from. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Virgil looked from left to right and decided the faint grumbling in his abdomen was something he could ignore for the time being; he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything right now anyway. So, he made his way towards the baths, hoping a splash of cool water could wake him from this crazy dream.

Unfortunately, even after dunking his head under the cool water, Virgil was still stuck in the extravagant palace with an invisible host. He braced his hands on the sides of the stone bowl carved from the wall, staring blankly at the trickling waterfall that fed into the dish he had rinsed in. How the fuck did he get into this mess? The voice had mentioned something about this place belonging to the fae? What the fuck? There’s no way any of this could be real. Well, that Janus had said he would answer Virgil’s questions tonight, so there seemed little more he could do than wait.

The bedroom he had been given was grand, far larger than even his entire basement suite back home, and all of its drapings were more luxurious than Virgil had ever seen. He ran his fingers down the curtains that hung from the bedposts, marvelling at the quality and the depth of the colour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to create with fabrics of this pedigree. He fiddled with the tie of his shirt around his middle and settled onto one of the plush armchairs by the window. Now, to wait.

-----

Hours later, Virgil was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of footsteps approaching his door. He scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand braced on a bedpost to orient himself as he squinted through the darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out the vague outlines of the furniture around the room.

The door opened.

Virgil tensed, gripping the bedpost tighter and raising his other arm in front of him defensively. From what he could see, backlit from the hall, the figure entering the room was about his height, maybe a little taller. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but the shadow he cast onto the floor seemed to be larger than his body mass would produce. The door closed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark.

“Janus?” Virgil asked nervously, hoping there wasn’t anyone else in the palace who would be coming into his room this late at night.

“Breathe, Virgil, it is only me.”

It was as if a spell of calm soothed over him, easing the tension from around his neck and within his chest. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath. Janus hadn’t come any further into the room, seemingly content to linger by the door.

“Um… hi?” Virgil winced at how awkward he sounded, but continued on regardless. “You said you would answer more of my questions, right?”

“That is correct, beloved. I will tell you as much as I am able to at this time.” There was the sound of shuffling in the dark. “May I join you on the bed? I think we will both be much more comfortable being seated for this conversation.”

Virgil bit his lip, looking between the bed and Janus despite not being able to see either. Eventually, he nodded, and then blushed when he realized what he’d done.

“Yeah… yeah, you can come sit over here, I guess.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

When the pair had gotten settled, Janus was seated at the foot of the bed, leaning up against the bedpost and seemingly unbothered by the strange situation. Virgil, on the other hand, had his back pressed against the headboard with his knees hugged to his chest. His feet were buried in the blankets and he was absently scrunching the soft material under his toes in a comforting, rhythmic motion. It was Janus who broke the silence first.

“What would you ask of me first, dearest?”

Virgil blew out a sigh. “Why did you bring me here? What are you going to do with me? Am I ever going to be allowed to go home? Will you-”

"Sh sh sh,” Janus crooned, “One at a time, beloved, all will be answered. In short, I do not know when you will be able to return to your home, or if you ever will, but it is for your own good!” Janus hurriedly added before Virgil could panic. “You see, there is someone very powerful who is very angry with you. Intentionally or not, you have caused her a great disrespect, and she will not rest until her dues have been met.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Janus sighed. “Because she is my mother, and she sent me to kill you.”

“What!?” Virgil screeched, throwing himself off the bed and slamming against the nearby wall. His nails scrabbled at the stone, desperate to clutch, claw, escape. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die! He snapped his head back and forth, searching for any sort of way out, but he was blinded by shadows and fear. A sharp cry escaped him when a hand suddenly wrapped around one of his own and he whimpered as it squeezed, expecting pain. Instead, a gentle crooning cut through the ringing in his ears.

“Breathe, Virgil, you are not in danger. You must calm down and listen.”

Janus’ voice was surprisingly tender for how powerfully it could be heard through Virgil’s panic. He was able to focus on it like a tether to pull himself into a more relaxed state of mind. At some point, he had begun to time his breathing with Janus’ as well, steady and even to a count known only to the fae holding him. When Virgil had relaxed enough to come back to himself, he tensed all over again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“How can you say I’m safe, when you’re gonna kill me?”

“Because I have no intentions of killing you,” Janus replied, now cradling both of Virgil’s hands to his chest. Even this close, the darkness was so impenetrably thick that Virgil had no hope of glimpsing his face. He kept his eyes averted regardless. “I brought you here to remove you from my mother’s gaze and conceal you from her misplaced wrath.”

Virgil was silent, processing, as Janus gently tugged on his hands and guided him back onto the bed. There, the fae leaned against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and carefully pulled Virgil to recline on his chest. Virgil resisted for only a moment before complying. Everything else about this was already way out of his depth to manage, he may as well allow himself to be comfortable wherever he could. Janus was either going to kill him or leave him alive, and there likely wasn’t anything Virgil could do to sway that decision at this point. So, Virgil settled himself against Janus’ chest with his body laying between Janus’ legs and stretching out until their legs tangled together. He was grateful now for the dark that hid a probably searing blush as his cheek pressed flush against the fae’s warm skin; Janus wasn’t wearing a shirt and his nude torso was warm to cuddle against.

“Now,” Janus murmured, shifting Virgil’s focus from his embarrassment to the situation at hand. His fingers ran over Virgil’s scalp and through his hair, carefully brushing out any tangles and soothing in the same motion. “If you will let me continue, I was going to say my mother had ordered for you to be killed, however, I do not agree with her decision. She is acting rashly over a slight you did not directly commit.”

“What did I even do to piss her off so bad?” Virgil murmured from where his face was tucked against Janus’ collar, resting more of his weight closer with each breath.

“I do not know the exact details, only that you were the cause for drawing her worshippers away from the temple on her day of adulation. The fae do not take kindly to being stolen from, especially not my mother.”

“The interview,” Virgil breathed in horror. Pushing himself upright, he clutched at Janus’ arm. “I swear, I didn’t mean for everyone to skip out on the Spirit’s Festival! If it had been up to me, none of them would have even been at the cafe! I didn’t want them there, you have to believe me!”

“Calm yourself, beloved. I believe that you did not intentionally act to anger her. However, you must understand that even a perceived slight is considered very real and serious to the fae. That is why you must remain here under my protection, until my mother’s ire cools or I can convince her to redirect her anger.”

As Janus fell silent, Virgil curled in again and pondered what he had been told, trying to remember anything he could about the fae. It wasn’t like there was one consistent guidebook he could follow, but some of the stories the older people used to tell his grade school classes at the library were starting to make a little more sense now. He had been told the forest couldn’t lie, so maybe that meant the fae were bound by the truth? A stretch, sure, but weren’t all myths rooted somehow in reality? They were also regularly told that the spirits of the forest loved beauty, especially in the form of attractive people, and could bestow gifts on those they enjoyed looking upon. Virgil had always felt so disheartened hearing that. He wasn’t anything special, just a plain-looking boy, so the forest would never favour him.

Why then had Janus?

“So,” Virgil broke into the quiet, “you supposedly brought me here to protect me from your mother, but that doesn’t explain why you called me your future husband earlier.”

Janus hummed. “When I set out to observe the human who had offended my mother, I was prepared to be faced with a disgusting example of your kind. What I found instead was the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on.” Virgil gasped when the hand that had been in his hair slipped down to cup his cheek and tilt his chin up. He felt a pair of lips brush so lightly against his forehead that he thought he imagined it. “You were sobbing so hard for a deeply rooted pain. I found myself desiring nothing more than to stop your tears and see how much your already breathtaking countenance would shine when lit by a smile.”

“I - you -”

Virgil was sure that he had been kissed before, because now he felt those lips curl into a smile.

“Is it so hard to believe you are so attractive?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil huffed, his eyes closed as he leaned into Janus’ palm. “It’s not like I heard it all that often.”

“Mmm, I shall have to change that, then,” Janus whispered, resting his cheek on Virgil’s head, cradling him close once more. “Do you have any more questions, beloved? If not, it is time for you to rest, you’ve had a long day.”

The gentle petting and warm embrace were taking their toll on Virgil’s exhausted mind. He let himself rest heavily on Janus, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the fae’s chest. “Jus’ one,” he murmured, voice already dipping into that sleepy slur. “Wanna make sure m’dads know ‘m safe…”

“I’ll see what I can do, my love. Rest now, Virgil.”

Like a spell had been cast over him, Virgil drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

-----

When Virgil had awoken, he was alone in the massive bed. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest, having hoped Janus would stay despite the fae not wanting to show his face. Sighing, he slid out of bed and got himself ready for the day, slipping into some comfortable clothes he found in a set of drawers. When he came down for breakfast, his host’s invisible voice greeted him and informed him that his dads had been told of the situation and were relieved Virgil was alive and relatively safe.

The next few days played out much the same. Virgil was left to his own devices during the day, waited on by some sort of invisible staff as he explored the palace. He never saw another soul, but whenever he needed something, he learned to simply call out for it and it would be delivered to him by magic.

Each night, Janus would arrive in his bedroom once the sun had disappeared. He never asked for more than Virgil was willing to give, but Virgil found himself cuddled close every night without fail. They would speak for hours - about Virgil’s dreams, his dads, and Remy - nothing was too simple for Janus to inquire about. The fae was fascinated by every aspect of human life, and Virgil enjoyed discovering a sense of romantic joy over the little things he had experienced. There was something about Janus that soothed away the ever-present worries that were always yelling inside Virgil’s head.

There was one worry that couldn’t be silenced, however. No matter how much Virgil was coming to trust his protector, he could not ignore the fact that he had no idea what Janus even looked like. It was eating away at him not to know, and the longer he sat alone, the Janus in his head looked more and more like a monster waiting to prey upon him. This couldn’t go on. He had to know.

-----

During the day before he was going to enact his plan, Virgil spent his time in the massive library he had discovered on the second day, scanning the shelves and making a show of selecting a couple books. He made himself comfortable in one of the oversized cushions piled near the floor-to-ceiling window and pretended to read. Between absently scanning the pages, Virgil looked up and glanced around the room, as if his mind were wandering with the tale he was apparently focused on. In reality, he was scouring the room for ideas.

Countless candles were lit around the library, their wax melting at different stages, some newly pooling while others formed thick layers around the base of the candelabras. They were lit now, but there was no way for him to have an already burning flame in the bedroom when Janus arrived for the night. He would have to find some way to light one on his own. Maybe he could just -

“Excuse me?” He called into the air. “Could I please have more candles, and some matches for them? I want to go read in my room, but, um, the smell is really nice in here.”

Like always, the items he requested popped into existence on a low table nearby: three candles and a pair of matches. Huh, he hadn’t actually thought that was going to work.

“Thank you!”

Hugging both books to his chest, Virgil collected his new tools and jogged up to his room. There, he placed the candles onto the small table between the armchairs and lit them with a match. The second match, he carefully tucked inside the front knot of his shirt, pressing against his breast. Now prepared, he settled in to actually focus on the novel he had picked up. There was nothing but time to kill.

-----

By the time Janus arrived, Virgil had already blown out the candles and crawled into bed. He cuddled in as soon as Janus had laid down, laying his head on the fae’s chest and trying to keep his breathing steady as they fell into their usually nighttime conversation. Janus’ claws delicately traced the bumps of his spine the entire time they spoke.

Once Virgil was sure Janus had fallen asleep, he began the slow process of extracting himself from the fae’s embrace. Janus really was a cuddler, and loved to hold Virgil close while they slept, but thankfully he was also quite a deep sleeper. Virgil was able to carefully pull himself away and tuck a pillow into Janus’ arms. The fae squished it to his chest and curled onto his side, none the wiser.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Virgil went to work. He grabbed one of the candles and fished the match out from under his shirt, striking it against the table to light it. One hand held onto the base of the candle, while the other carefully cupped around the flame, protecting it as Virgil walked around to the other side of the bed where Janus lay. With a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled his hand away and gasped at the sight in front of him.

Janus never wore a shirt, which meant Virgil’s hands had felt the broad expanse of his naked back every night they had slept together. That didn’t explain why there were now a pair of gorgeous, tawny wings sprouting from between Janus’ shoulder blades. The feathers looked softer than anything Virgil could imagine and shined like spun gold in the candlelight. Virgil ached to caress the speckled feathers, to scrunch his fingers in the fluffy down near the wings’ base, but as he reached out, Janus rolled over and Virgil’s breath was punched from his lungs. The face of his protector was carved by the gods. Janus’ skin was a rich, dark brown, reflecting the candle light to accent his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Virgil could only imagine what colour his eyes could be behind his lids, framed by perfectly shaped brows and a shapely nose. Oh! Those lips! So plump and full! What would they feel like pressed against his own?

Enraptured, Virgil tried to get a better look, but as he leaned forward, some of the melted wax from the candle spilled over and landed on Janus’ cheek. The fae yelped, startling awake and clutching at his face as he threw himself upright. Virgil jumped back in shock, falling on his ass while somehow keeping the candle lit. The clatter drew Janus’ attention and his head snapped to the side to look at Virgil, who saw the moment Janus’ eyes widened with understanding and heartbreaking betrayal.

“You promised!” Janus hissed. “You promised me you wouldn’t look! Does your word mean so little to you!?”

“N-No - I, I just, I wanted-”

“What!? What was so important that you had to break your promise?”

“I wanted to, to make sure you weren’t some sort of … monster … who had kidnapped me to… to eat me,” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Why did he have to give in to his anxieties so easily? The next moment, his heart crumpled with Janus’ expression.

“Get out.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said. Get. Out.” Janus growled, spreading his wings high above his head as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Get out of my sight, and out of my home! If you cannot hold to one simple promise, then I will not protect you! You can deal with my mother’s wrath on your own!”

About to protest, Virgil cried out in fear as Janus slashed out him, narrowly missing his face with those lethal claws. He didn’t waste any more time, dropping the candle and scrambling to his feet to run out of the bedroom. The empty halls echoed with his laboured breathing and the slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he sprinted through the palace and out the ivy-woven doors. The moment he was out, the doors slammed shut behind him.

Panting heavily, Virgil bent over with his hands on his knees, his entire body trembling from fear and exertion. He dropped to the ground and clutched his head in both hands, curling smaller and crying as silently as he could muster. It was a long time before his breathing evened out and he was able to drag himself back to his feet.

A glance around the clearing revealed what he had known upon his first arrival: he had no idea where in the forest he was, or which way led back home. So, he did the only thing he could and picked a direction to start walking. Through the night he stumbled over roots and around tangled shrubs, not stopping until he finally tripped over his own exhausted feet and fell into the shockingly cold waters of a stream. He spluttered and gasped, miserably dragging himself back up the bank. The sun was rising overhead, the forest waking up around him; he didn’t have the time to huddle here in a ball feeling sorry for himself.

-----

As the day progressed, Virgil noticed the trees beginning to thin and the gaps between the trunks growing wider. Suddenly, the canopy overhead parted to reveal a mountain, vast and tall, that should have been visible long before this moment. Placed at irregular intervals up the cliffside were six palaces woven of different plants woven together with even more grandeur than Janus’ home. Over the edge of the mountain, the tips and edges of presumably more palaces - these ones sculpted and shaped from various stones - were visible against the pale sky.

Virgil squinted, trying to get a better look at the strangely familiar shapes carved into the rock face near each palace. He gasped. The symbols matched those carved into the statues above the bronze dishes in the Spirit’s Temple, more specifically, the dishes meant for the spirits honoured in the spring and summer. That would mean - there! On the left! Beneath a palace of myrtle trees and rose vines, was the symbol belonging to the seventh spirit. That had to be the home of Janus’ mother, the spirit - or fae, rather - who was supposed to have been honoured at the start of this month.

Biting his lip, Virgil looked back the way he came then up at the palace once more. If what Janus said was true, and he wasn’t going to be offering protection anymore, then Virgil would have to face her on his own. It was either that, or cowering away until she tracked him down and killed him. Also not a desirable option, but Virgil would rather have some form of control over the end of his life. Beginning to climb, he just wished he would have been able to say goodbye to his dads first.

While there were worn deer trails to follow, the journey was not an easy one. Virgil had to cling to the rocks, heaving himself ever upwards, trying not to slice his bare feet or palms on the uneven shale. The summer sun climbed alongside him, growing hotter and hotter, sapping his energy and strength. Still, he pushed on until he stood before the lush gates shaking with exhaustion and dizzy from the heat.

Before he could gather his wits, the thorny vines that sealed the palace from the outside world began to withdraw. Where they parted, massive sanguine roses bloomed, as if to cushion a passerby from the sharp thorns. From within the depths of the palace strode out a figure so radiant and commanding, Virgil immediately felt subservient to her will. He quickly looked away, cheeks hot, as both of her breasts were exposed and only a lightweight wrap covered her lower body. His body recoiled when her piercing laugh broke the silence.

“Finally! The wretched beast comes crawling to its master, the Lady of the Summer Court. Had enough of playing at royalty, have you? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Virgil!”

Virgil immediately snapped his head back towards her, paling when his eyes met with her seething ire, but unable to drop his gaze any lower. He gripped the sides of his pants with white knuckles. “I - I’m so, so sorry! I n-never meant-”

“Look at this!” The fae cut in, causing Virgil to flinch again. “The pathetic mortal trying to inspire pity from me with your anxiety and melancholy! I will not be made a fool and relegated to some cheap handmaiden!”

With a shriek of rage, the Lady of Summer darted forward faster than Virgil’s eyes could track. The next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, ears ringing. He brought a shaky hand up to his stinging cheek and felt his stomach drop when his fingertips came away bloody. Rolling onto his back, he choked. The Lady was looming over him, one of her hands dripping with his blood as she pinned him down with a foot on his chest.

“It seems only fair to me, mortal, that I give you some chance to win back my good graces. Therefore, you shall complete a task for me, or else I will take your life as compensation for your disrespect.” The Lady of Summer announced with a wave of her hand. Virgil looked to the side, wincing as the cuts in his cheek dug into the gravel, and watched in surprise as a pile of mixed grains appeared nearby.

“You will sort this mass and disarray of seeds - wheat, barley, millet, poppy, chickpea, and lentil - into individual piles. I will know if a single grain lays with the wrong group. You have until this evening.” With that, the Lady of Summer kicked off his ribs and spun her skirts, vanishing into thin air with a flourish and leaving only the heady scent of roses as a sign of her presence.

Virgil lay on the ground in silence for a long time after she disappeared, barely daring to breathe. When he was finally able to bring himself to move, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, hissing at the pain in his ribs - definitely bruised. Crawling over to the pile of seeds, he reached a hand out but hesitated before he could touch the tiny grains. How the fuck was he supposed to sort these? He could hardly begin to tell them apart! Sitting back on his ass, Virgil dropped his face into his hands and burst into tears.

Then, he heard a high-pitched giggle.

Flitting to-and-fro above him were four - five - eight, no - seven? Seven little pixies were spinning, twirling, dancing through the air above him. Their bright, insect-like wings caught the sunlight and sent out flashes of colour like a rainbow in motion. One-by-one they drifted to the ground, settling in a half circle in front of Virgil and his miserable collection of seeds. They stood only several inches tall and were dressed in leaves and petals. A pair stepped forward in front of the rest; they were holding hands.

“Hello, hello!” The one on the right chirped, waving up with his free hand. He had gorgeous light blue butterfly wings that fluttered when he spoke. “We heard you crying and came to see, to see! What happened here, here?”

Virgil sniffled, wiping away his tears and snot on his sleeve. “Well, um,” he hiccupped and took a deep breath. “It’s the Lady of the Summer Court. She wants me to sort all of these seeds by type before tonight, but I have no idea how I’m going to do that so she’s definitely going to kill me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his face.

“Easy now,” a new voice murmured as two little hands pressed against his knee. Virgil blinked his eyes open to see the second pixie - this one with veiny wings like a beetle’s - rubbing his leg soothingly. “You need to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself.”

Virgil nodded and attempted to follow suit, counting to four on each inhale and exhale until the tears had slowed and he was able to relax somewhat to continue the conversation. “Th-thank you, um, what are your names?”

“You can call me Pat, Pat!” The first pixie announced twirling himself up into the air and drifting back down again.

“Ah, so you are quite new around here,” the second pixie mused, keeping his hands on Virgil’s leg. “You may call me Lo. Names have great power to the fae and it is imperative that you do not give yours away lightly, else someone may have complete control over your will.”

“But the Lady of the Summer Court already knows my name, and so did Jan- her son.”

“At any point did you give it to them, though?”

Virgil thought back over the last few weeks. “No… no, they both just, sorta, knew it somehow. Oh, uh, I guess you can call me Vee, then?”

Lo nodded. “Then it is likely they only heard your name somewhere, but they do not own it. Do you understand? They can exert some measure of power over you, but they cannot remove your free will entirely. Now then. Why is it the Lady wants you dead?” The pixie offered a small smile, nodding his head as Virgil explained how he got into this situation, that he knew Janus (though he referred to him as Jay), and why he wasn’t with the other fae anymore. When he finished, it was Pat who puffed up angrily.

“The Lady has gone too far, too far! You didn’t mean to make those people leave, leave! And it sounds like you didn’t actually make a binding promise, so Jay is acting a bit silly, bit silly. So, we’re gonna help you sort these seeds, and get everything cleared up, up!”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Pat, you stay here with the others to aid Vee. I am going to go have a word with our feathered friend.” With that, Lo leaned in, kissed Pat’s cheek, and flew off down the mountainside.

Virgil watched the glint of Lo’s wings until he was out of sight, then turned back to the remaining pixies to watch as their quick, tiny hands got to work on the grains. “So… how do you know Jay?

Pat grinned widely up at him. “Jay is one of the Princes of Spring, Spring!” He works with love magic, and helped Lo and I get together decades ago in exchange for our help weaving that pretty gate in front of his palace, his palace!”

While they continued to converse, the pixies worked away at the seeds to form six unique piles, sorted from darkest to lightest. Before long, the entire jumbled mass had been reorganized without a single seed out of place. Once their job was complete, the five other pixies twittered their goodbyes and flew off up the mountain. Only Pat remained, sitting on his knee and chattering away as the sun set. Virgil shivered as a chill breeze licked at his exposed skin.

A sudden snap rent the night air, spooking Virgil, who lurched forward to cradle Pat in his hands protectively. Looking over his shoulder, he felt like vomiting when he saw the Lady of Summer standing over the grain piles with her arms crossed. He internally thanked any of the spirits who may be on his side that her chest was covered this time.

“This is not your work,” she hissed. “These were not organized by your hand, but by his!” She pointed an accusing finger at Pat, who had been peeking around Virgil’s arm but quickly hid back against his chest at the attention. “How dare you attempt to deceive me, you cretin!”

With a wordless shriek, the Lady lashed out with her vicious claws, aiming for the unmarked side of Virgil’s face. He scrambled back on his hands and heels, his ass dragging on the ground while Pat clung to the front of his shirt. Before she could take a second swipe, however, the dust and grit kicked up around them, obscuring their vision.

With his eyes covered, Virgil could only hear the flapping of large wings that cut off before there was the thud of a body dropping in front of him. Opening his eyes, he gasped. There, with his back to Virgil, stood Janus, with his great wings spread wide and his claws flexed at his sides. Lo, who had been holding onto the fae’s shoulder, now zipped down to the pair on the ground, holding Pat close and ensuring he was unharmed while the pixies huddled together on Virgil’s lap.

“You will not lay another hand on him,” Janus hissed, standing over Virgil protectively. Virgil felt Pat grip his thumb, but he couldn’t look away from the pair above them.

“What are you doing? Get out of the way, my son.”

“No. You wanted your revenge on him, and you got it. Look at him; he’s terrified, injured, and exhausted. The original disrespect against you was not even intentionally caused by him; it was the doing of numerous others. I do not fault you for your affront, but you are carrying on like a tantruming toddler!”

The Lady of Summer took a step back and clutched at her bosom. “You dare to speak to me like that?”

“I do, and so does the rest of the Seelie Court.” Virgil watched as Janus rolled his shoulders back and stood straighter. The Prince of Spring then reached into a bag tied at his hip and pulled out some sort of wooden charm dangling from a hemp rope. At the sight of it the Lady of Summer gasped and covered her mouth. “I have spoken before the Queen and her retinue, and she has decreed you will leave this mortal alone. In exchange, he will return to his town and gather a proper celebration for you by the end of this month.”

Virgil held his breath, not daring to twitch a muscle as he awaited his fate. The Lady of Summer let nothing show in her expression, but the hard lines of her face had softened attractively as Janus spoke. She shifted, looking over Janus shoulder and directly at Virgil. “You. You will do as this deal demands?”

Nodding rapidly, Virgil held up his hand in oath. “I will, I promise. I’ll go back home and speak with the curator of the Spirit’s Temple. We’ll host another festival and you’ll get the offerings you were supposed to be given at the start of the month.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the Lady of the Summer Court beamed a smile and grasped her hands over her heart. “Well then! That wasn’t so hard, was it! My dear, smart son, finding a way to set things right. I’m so proud of you, my little songbird.” Looking at her son, she cooed and cupped Janus’ cheek to tilt him up to kiss his forehead, smiling at his grumbling. “I won’t linger much longer, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of my future son-in-law after all! I’ll see you soon, Virgil, dear,” she called, a cool edge to her voice for a moment before she smiled brightly once more and waggled her fingers. With a dramatic wave of her hands, the Lady of Summer vanished once more.

A quiet settled over the remaining quartet, broken by a tinny clearing of a throat. Lo stood in Virgil’s lap, tugging Pat up next to him. “I believe it is time for us to depart as well. I am relieved we were able to arrive in time to prevent any harm coming to you, Vee.” The pixie looked from Janus to Virgil and smiled. “Let us know when you are in the woods, we would enjoy visiting under more ideal circumstances. Farewell, for now.”

“Goodbye, Vee, Vee!”

In a flash, the pair of pixies flew off into the night, their hands held tight together. They flew loops and circles over the others before darting off in the direction the other pixies had traveled hours ago.

On the ground, Janus helped Virgil to his feet. He cooed in sympathy, tenderly touching the tips of his fingers beneath the angry red cuts on Virgil’s cheek. “I am so sorry for what she has done to you, darling. And I am even more sorry that my own actions drove you from the safety of my side. I was meant to protect you from unearned rage, but instead I subjected you to further punishment and drove you towards your would-be killer. If I hadn’t gotten here in time-” Janus exhaled heavily, his wings sagging behind him. “I am so sorry, Virgil.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because none of this has been okay, but, I guess I can understand where you were coming from. If I were as attractive as you, I’d also be worried about people taking advantage of me.” Virgil blushed and dragged his big toe through the dirt. “So, yeah, I forgive you, or whatever.” He looked up with a fire in his eyes and jabbed his finger into the center of Janus’ chest. “But don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

Janus hands cupped around his own, cradling it close. “I swear, to the end of my days, I will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, my dearest.”

Despite the tenderness of the gesture, Virgil was unmoved. “I mean it, Janus. If you want us to work out, then I can’t be afraid that you’re going to banish me from your home every time you get upset. It’s not a relationship if you’re going to treat me like I’m disposable. I’m worth more than that. If you want more reassurance, or something, on my promises, then we can work something out, but what you put me through was terrifying, and I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”

Janus sighed, holding Virgil’s hands up to his lips and resting there a moment before slowly gathering Virgil into his arms. His embrace was loose enough to break, if Virgil wanted. “I understand, darling, and I will never be able to apologize enough for what I have done. However, it is not my words you want, but my actions, and I will do whatever you desire of me in order to make it up to you.” He cupped Virgil’s uninjured cheek. “I want us to work, too.”

There was a long pause as Virgil searched Janus’ golden eyes for any signs of deception. When he found only an earnest honesty, Virgil allowed himself to be held closer. He wasn’t sure which of them moved next, but they came together as one, lips pressing softly at first before quickly gaining heat. Then he was spun and dipped down, laughing hard as he clung to Janus’ shoulders, the fae’s wings held aloft to keep them balanced.

Maybe ‘future husband’ didn’t sound so bad after all.

#anxceit #healthy anxciet #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #fae au #eros and psyche #squid scribbles

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Goof Week: Goof Troop: Forever Goof Review (Everything’s Coming Up Goofy, Good Neighbor Goof, Gotta Be Gettin Goofy) (Commission for WeirdKev27)

Yahhahhooooeeeey all you happy people! WELCOME TO GOOF WEEK! Now normally when a character who got their start in theatrical shorts has a birthday, I do a marathon of them. I have since last year with Donald and it’s one of my favorite things: it allows me to explore Disney’s rich history of them I was largely unaware of till Disney+, and allows me to revisit the shorts I grew up with in the case of The Looney Tunes or Tom and Jerry while discovering new favorites. SO naturally with Goofy’s birthday in two days I intended to do the same for him, especially since I’d covered Donald and Mickey the same way.

But fate had other ideas. Not thinking about this tradition, Kev, my patreon, friend and the guy who commissions a LOT of reviews from me ($5 an episode if your curious and I WILL make room on the schedule so your commission gets done as soon as possible), suggested reviewing the Goof Troop pilot movie Forever Goofy, later split into the episode Everything’s Coming Up Goofy and Good Neighbor. I loved the idea since I genuinely loved Goof Troop, and decided to do both that week.

It’s then I got a great idea.. why limit myself to JUST doing two things? I hit my 15 dollar patreon stretch goal, so a review of the Goofy Movie was on the Horizon anyway, and for it’s anniversary year Kev has been commissioning House of Mouse Episodes, so it wouldn’t be THAT much of an ask (and it wasn’t) to simply randomly select from a pool of Goofy-Centric episodes instead of all the episodes.

Thus GOOF WEEK was born, and Kev once again proved vital to all this by suggesting the special Sports Goof from the 80′s. I’d like to give him special thanks as outside of the Shorts Special, which as a patreon he still got to pick one and if you’d like to pick one for Donald’s special, sign on up even one dollar patreons get the honor. , this week is either entirely paid for by him or in the case of A Goofy Movie, is partly thanks to him. I wouldn’t be able to do NEARLY as many reviews nor make money off this without you bud, so thank you.

So naturally given the idea to do this two parter gave me the idea for this week and that Goofy Movie makes a logical finale for said week, it only made sense to start the week with Goof Troop. Bop-dop-da-da-do-bop, YEAH.

Goof Troop is the first Disney Afternoon show I ever watched and the only one I watched when I was younger, as Disney Channel used to play it ocasinally when I was younger and Toon Disney would do the same and I even got to Marthoon it when Disney XD did a weekend marathon. Given it starred my faviorite Disney Character, Donald hadn’t worked his way up to tying with him quite yet, I loved what I could grab of it. And as an adult.. it still holds up. It has problems i’ll get into, but it is a real good time so I was exastic to get an excuse to watch some of it and much like with Darkwing wish I had sooner.

Before I can h-h-h-hit it though, I have to talk about the series history. I ALMOST didn’t find anything: much like the other Disney Afternoon shows there really wasn’t much on the Disney wiki nor wikipedia, google turned up nothing... it wasn’t till I went to the Tv Tropes Trivia Page for the series, where i’d remembered reading about some early versions of the show, that I hit gold: A two part behind the scenes blog post by series co-creator Michael Peraza. You can find part one HERE and part two HERE. It’s a short but fascinating read.

Speaking of fascenating Peraza himself is someone i’d never heard of till reading this article but damn if he isn’t a legend. Seriously the guy’s career is as an unsung hero, starting work under the Legendary Nine Old Men, and working on some of disney’s greatest films: The Great Mouse Detective, Aladdin, The LIttle Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast, along with live action cult classics Tron and Return to Oz via concept art. And concept art is where he’d hit his stride: he did conceptual work for all the big Disney Afternoon shows apart from Gargoyles, being one of the key guys in the early days of Disney Television animation. He didn’t stop at just designing things either as he worked as Art Director for Ducktales, The Proud Family and of course given how vital he was to it’s creation, Goof Troop, and to this days gives lectures with his wife to aspiring animators. He even did some guest work for the 2017 Ducktales Episode “Treasure of the Found Lamp!”. So yeah dude’s awesome

So how did he come to be a key part of this show’s creation? Well he’d just finished up some concept work on some other Disney Afternoon shows, and being a company man was glad to report to the Goof Troop..ers to help as the show was having trouble getting off the ground. The reason for this was the creative exec, who Peraza didn’t name out of kindness as the guy wasn’t a BAD person.. just a clueless one, this being his first job in film and tv. As such rather than work hard to develop around goofy or focus on his strengths the kid threw out one concept after another: The series got it’s name from a pitch that had Goofy as a scoutmaster, something I was glad to finally know. To quote Peraza

“ Although while I was doodling versions of the show that were destined to never see the light of the TV screen, the pitch date remained etched in stone and kept creeping closer. Various versions would find their way to the surface only to sink again into the wasteland known as the roundfile (trashcan). One moment Goofy was the Captain of the Fire Department, the next day a detective out of the Maltese Falcon mold, or a swash buckling hero fighting The Flying Dutchman.

The supporting cast he came up with really wasn't very supportive when you consider they sometimes included alien dragon babies with wings along with a large gorilla. Somebody at Walt Disney Television Animation must have really had a thing for giant gorillas around this time as they were plugged into almost every concept we assembled.”

It was clear that while Goofy COULD fit into just about anything, this exec was just throwing everything at the wall, nothing was sticking, and rather than try to refine his supporting cast, they kept having to throw them out and start over. And dont’ get me wrong, cartoons go through a lot of development and changes as they go.. but it’s usually born from a concept and usually by this point, they at least have what the show will be ABOUT in stone. While i’ve had the same creative changes and what not when coming up with projects that ultimately never saw the light of day, and currentlly some I hope to but might not, I’m not being paid by a studio to do this nor had a hard deadline. I was just spitballing trying to get something anything off the ground before reviewing gave me a steady outlet for my creativity and thus ballanced me to take my time with stuff. Peraza WAS turning out amazing art, like this concept art for the fireman pitch that honeslty makes me want to see it as a series. Who DOSEN’T want to see 9-11 with Goofy as the main character? Throw in Donald and grown up versions of Max, PJ and PIstol (And even not THAT much for the former two, as they did go off to college and all), don’t forget Roxanne this time out and you have a worthy goofy movie sequel.

So yeah this wasn’t working and the latest pitch was not great: Putting Goofy in ToonTown as a cabbie driving the Cab from Who Framed Roger Rabbit. As Peraza TRIED to point out to the exec, putting Goofy in a naturally goofy setting didn’t really play to the characters strength, his whole shtick being a goofus in a normal world. Enough of an every man to root for but also a slapstick joly weirdo.

The executive’s INCREDIBLY douchey response, especially since Peraza was a Disney Vetran at this point and had spent quite a lot of time on Ducktales, so he knew what he was talking about was “Do it anyway and leave the “Visionary” part to me”

As you can tell by MR. OOC there, this might be one of the most punchable sentences i’ve ever read.

So Peraza wasn’t in a great place and was naturally terrified when he got a call from Gary Krisel, president of Disney TVA, asking about the show and to see him about it.

Turns out though Krisel was a nice guy who already had a great working relatinship with Peraza, and genuinely wanted to know what was going on there and wanted his honest opinion. It’s why i’m not AGAINST executives in animation as sometimes they can come in when somethings clearly not working or allow a smooth transition of power if a propelmatic creator has to be booted off their own show so the show and i’ts crew don’t suffer as a result. It’s just more often than not they cause headaches or cancel shows for entirley stupid or self motivated reasons. But I will give credit where it’s do and point out times where there NOT stupid or homophobic or what have you and this is indeed one of those times.

Peraza was indeed straight with him: pointing out all the concepts they’d gone through, and like with the other guy honestly gave his opinon the ToonTown Pitch wasn’t working.. and he not only agreed but asked Peraza himself, actually respecting his experince instead of yelling at him that he has a vision that wouldn’t last the end of the day probably.

Peraza was HOPING this was where this was going and gladly gave him a far less high concept pitch and one truer to the character, quoted in full bellow:

“ My spiel went as follows, "Goofy is a recognized star of Disney animation, so why re-invent the wheel? His son is an average kid dealing with many of the usual issues they face: peer pressure, young love, grades, school bullies, and so on. On top of all that, he has the zaniest, wackiest GOOFIEST dad to live down. No matter how insane the situations get though, they will always love each other. They're a family." Gary asked how I would pitch it and I replied, "It's ONE day in the life of Goofy and son. From getting up in the morning to fixing breakfast, we see their difference side by side as his son tries to distance himself. No matter what though he knows deep inside that his father will always be there for him, whether he likes it or not."

If your wondering if Peraza noticed that that original pitch line is basically the peremise and emotioinal core of The Goofy Movie down pat.. your extremley correct and he notes that the film was based on said pitch even if he had no involvment with it that I could tell. The series would still use this but the whole embarasment aspect was toned down, and honestly fit a teenager better than an 11 year old..

So the exec loved it and Peraza shaped the core of the series: the idea of having Pete as his nemisis, pete having a nuclear family including a gorgeous wife, and the show being more slice of life and what not. He made some great sketches, got roaring approval and then pitched it to rousing success and the rest is history. Goof Troop was a moderate success and The Goofy Movie after it is a classic beloved by all. We have this wonderful man to thank for all that and I also thank him , on the offchance he ever sees this, for bringing Goofy into modern times in a way that did the man-dog justice. It’s thank to you we got this fun series, two great movies, and a goofy the way he is today: the best of everything about him rolled into one. Thanks man, free review.. not htat you NEED It since you’ve worked on things i’ve covered and what not, but I feel like I should offer. Outside of Peraza, I found one last bit of making of stuff before I get to the premiere proper. These two early concept shots:

The first has Max who both looks older and has red hair like he did in the shorts. Honestly I see a lot of his Goofy Movie self in thiis design, the only diffrence obviously being the red hair which was wisely changed to make the boy look more like goofy, something kept for the movie.

The more intresting one is this shot of the Pete’s. Starting with Pete he’s more athletic and has a perfectly tacky outfit. While changing him to be a bit more slovenly honestly fit this version of the character better, I do wish they’d kept hte outfit as the tacky gold and green jacket, the gold chain, the open ollar.. it all fits this version of pete so well, as well as his illusion of being a big shot when he is in fact a medium one. Peg is both slightly younger looking and far more doting and is so different I swear this picture looks like Pete remarried after the divorce and got some lipo. Pistol has about the same design but with a vastly different, more Isabella-ish outfit. Finally we have PJ who looks the same, but has a diffrent outfit and a far more sour demeanor, probably meant to be a bully. My best guess is sthis stuff comes from the pitch, and was likely made to simply get the basic premise across before fine tuning the characters for series

So with all of that out of the way i’m calling eveyrone to join in the fun under the cut and report to the Goof Troop.

Everything’s Coming Up Goofy:

Our first episode opens in a small but cozy trailer, where Goofy’s cooking up lunch as only goofy could: by making osme meatballs then serving them to his son over a game of table tennis, with Max doing the same. It’s really freaking adorable, and a dynamic i’m not used to since i’m more familiar with Teen Max. Seeing Max genuinely get into his dad’s hyjinks and enjoy them.. it just warms the heart and adds weight to The Goofy Movie by knowing there was a time the two really were thick is thieves before the stygian hole that is high school drained all that out of him.

So the two are like buddies and pals until the Mailman arrives, not even phased at this point. Turns out it’s a Diploma, and with this Goofy can get a job he’s been up for in Spoonerville and plans to move immediately. Max is devisated he’ll loose his friends and runs away to use a magical mystery box to keep them together only to end up in a land full of frogs with an old man who sounds like his dad minus the drawl and two other tinier frogs and ... I may have the wrong show. In fairness you try dislodging a finale where Keith David runs a 13 year old through with laser sword and then talk to me.

Goofy is sympathetic though: While he seems a tad oblivous to Max’s worries, it’s very clear he’s jumping on this job and this move so far to give his son a better life. Sure he runs through all the cartoon moving away talking points that don’t work in real life or most other cartoons such as there being a nice lake and that max can make new friends, and Max accepts it weirdly fast because this episode is only 22 minutes and they don’t have time for that subplot... but it’s clear the idea of a better paying job, a secure home not in an alleyway, and some stablility for his son is the real reason Goofy’s doing this, and he probably wants to simply give the boy the childhood he had growing up.

Meanwhile in Spoonerville, we meet Pete. To my shock this is where Jim Cummings took over the roll he was born for and has played since and with good reasons as Cummings is just amazing with Pete no matter the incarnation and excels here his penchant for playing jerks, hams and gravely voiced guys all coalesicing. Pete is planning on building what modern toxicly masculine weirdos such as himself would call a Man Cave on his lawn, because Pete is a very SPECIAL kind of douchebag. He also plans to stretch it into the neighboring property, tear down the house there and set it up.

This is news to his wife Peg, played by fellow voice acting Legend whose stillg ot it, April Winchell in her star making role. Peg is Pete’s strong willed wife who dosen’t put up with her husbands crap.. you know that trope that infected sitcoms for kids and adults of the doofy husband whose either a manchild , a skeevy self serving quipy asshole or some horrible combination of the two. The kind that has still been so prevealant the wife from one of said sitcoms helped produce a show about the wife finally doing the logical thing and plotting to kill the bastard. No really.. that’s an actual thing that’s happening. It’s even got a Little Bit of Alexis as Anne Murphy plays the poor, poor wife.

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And why yes the series is called Kevin Can Fuck Himself. And why yes said former sitcom wife was the same one on a sitcom called Kevin Can Wait who was fired because they wanted to retool the show with the wife from Kevin James other sitcom. That also is very really a thing that happened. Payback is a bitch aint it? Fun too.

But yeah from minute one Pete is a terrible husband: Peg is a realtor and thus is trying to sell the house because it’s her fucking job instead of letting her husband throw their family deep in debt to very likely illegally demolish a house so he has a giant yard to play in. I mean even if this is all played for jokes i’ts just not funny enough to not make him an utter bastard. The fact his response to her VERY valid criticism and subtextual worry he doesn’t’t take her career seriously is to fake a panic attack, from a very REAL tendency he turns out to have giant breakdowns under stress, to try and guilt her into letting him have his giant public man cave just backs this up.. as does the fact she simply glares at the camera as he’s clearly DONE this before.

Since I have to put up with this version of him for the rest of this episode, the next, AND a portion of the movie, i’m proudly introducing the Pete Sucks Counter. This will carry over to any other appearances of the guy from here on out. So that’s one for his insane plan, one for disrespecting his wife’s career and one for faking a panic attack to try and win an argument Pete Sucks Counter: 3

So because this episode ran short Peg caves and compromises: He can have the property if it isn’t sold by 9. So Pete does what ANY husband would do: uses his spy camera and booby traps he’s set up in the other house to try and scare away prospective buyers.

Yeah.. while the show TRIES to have Pete not as his old-timey villian self.. they traded in for him being fucking MODOK. I mean he is a grotesque monstrosity who has a nuclear family and spends all his time in a chair thing and can barely function as a Husband or Father. Though at least I can belivie MODOK LOVES his family which not so much with Pete.

To prove this Pete tries using a fake spider to scare some buyers then CALLS THEM TELLING THEM PEG IS A CON ARITST. I.e. something that if they mention to her bosses could get her FIRED. He respects his wife’s autonomy, what she wants and what she’s asked him for, which is a fair shot to sell the place before he tries to wreck the place, as well as likely what his neighbors want. I mean I can accept breaks from reality for comedy, snakebird is my boy.

So I can accept pete has this stuff.. I just can’t find it funny when these shenanignas very transparently show that while he surface level loves his wife he dosen’t respect her or actually listen to her except when she gets angry. He IS the villian so he’s still a slight step among monst sitcom dads but i’ts not great. I can find it funny that his den also functions as a super villian lair though. That shit will never not be great. Also Pete Sucks Counter: 6 For the record: one for the spider itself, one for having traps set up in a property hat both isn’t his and his wife is trying to sell and another for threatening her job and her self esteem as she is baffled at what she possibly did wrong.

So Goofy and Max get on the road, leaving moving the rest of their stuff to an old coot whose a friend of theres. So it’s goodbye Duckburg, Hello Spoonerville! And yes I headcanon this as Duckburg. Goof Troop is one of two shows that very clearly happened in SOME form, the other being Tailspin, the only difference being the time period (Goof Troop taking place in the 90′s and Tailspin in the 30′s or 40′s) and any adjustments for clashes with the 2017 verse. So going off that, we also know Donald and the boys KNOW goofy and didn’t remotely question his presence, as did the rest of the cast.

So figuring out the timeline, Goofy likely met Donald in college, even if he never finished college as per an Extremley Goofy Movie, which may not happen the same exact way given Goofy still has his old job and may not loose it in this timeline, though i’d like to think he still meets Sylvia. But point is he drops out, possibly to marry Max’s mom, they end up moving to Duckburg for her work, she sadly dies, and Goofy is left raising Max alone. Donald and Goofy likely bonded as single parents struggling in low paying 9-5 jobs. Goofy left here, likely said goodbye to Donald and the 5 or so year old boys offscreen , and left. As for how anyone else knows him that’s simple: he probably visits whenever he can. He’s a good friend, genuinely loves Donald like a brother in all continuities, and of course would show up with a progressively more then less grumpy Max every time. As for what I think the rest of the cast would think of him: Scrooge would hate him for his disaster area ways, but at least respect him as a hard worker, he just wouldn’t personally hire him which is.. it’s fair. Beakley would be aggravated by him. Webby would of course like him because she’s essentially him but competent and gay, and Launchpad and him .. god that’d be a joy to see. And drive up Scrooge’s insurance. Della would also like him obviously. I”m really disappointed we didn’t get a season 4 if for nothing else the fact we probably would’ve got another Goofy episode. It also feels weird he’s not in the finale in any way shape or form you know? Why have such a big guest spot for him and then just not bring him or Max back? GIVE ME MORE MAX DISNEY DAMN YOUUUUU So they move right along with Goofy excited to get back to where he once belonged, and to call Pete with the good news on his 90′s cell phone. Pete is utterly TERRIFIED finding out Goofy Comin and tries to send him off course to prevent it. Naturally despite nearly running into a truck, Goofy makes it to Spoonerville by evening anyway and we get a delightful bit that shows off BilL Farmer’s comedy skills as he rapidly lists off all the things in town while driving Max through town. It’s so damn smooth. This also is notable since before this farmer had just played the character in some DTV music videos, which stands for Disney not Denton but god I now want Shock Treatment with the Disney Crew. I mean who wouldn’t want Donald as Brad, Daisy as Janet, and Gladstone as Farley Flavors I ask you. Not sure who every one else would be i’m sorting that out. And if you don’t know what Shock Treatment is, here have this trailer with a nightmarish opening.

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Dammit now I want to watch Shock Treatment again... so I am. Found it in full on YouTube, and I feel no shame in sharing that as it’s not on VOD, nor any streaming service, the DVD, which I own, is out of print, and the Blu Ray is a UK exclusive. This film both needs to be seen more and needs another proper US release damn it!

So naturally Goofy somehow finds Pete’s house.. I dunno maybe Peg’s been sending him letters. Can’t blame her for having a wondering eye long as she dosen’t act on it. She’s married to a walking lump of ego, selfishness and cholesterol and likely only held on as long as she did for the kids. Which for the record Peg as a child of divorce whose parents got divorced rather than keep up a sham marriage or anything.. it’s not worth it. I was MUCH happier that way in the long term.

Anyways Peg and Goofy happily reunited while they awkardly try to get the kids to meet, with Goofy and PJ not warming up to each other at first, likely because Max just lost all his friends, and PJ clearly had none going into the series from context we’ll get later in the pilot. We also get a hilarious bit where Peg alternates between warmly greeting the goof’s and hilaroiusly shouting at Pistol to not play with worms.. in what honestly sounds like a protype for Miss Finster’s voice.

Meanwhile the kids try to hide a small crack in Pete’s boat.. which he notices as he’s just about to steamroll the house despite NOT having asked Peg if she sold it yet and just assuming, possibly opening himself and her to a lawsuit

Pete Sucks Counter: 7

Discovering his boat is trashed, he has a comical panic attack, which I can forgive since this was 1992 and they weren’t as well known as a serious problem. Seriously while pete is a bastard man.. the animation on him is GORGEOUS as it is HILARIOUS, while Jim Cummings brings the hell out of it. He’s kept the roll for three decades as of next year for a reason. Goofy ends up accidently destroying his boat in the process of trying to help him as you’d expect.

So Pete reluctantly lets the goofs sup with them.... and by reluctantly I mean he don’t wanna but Peg’s forcing him, which is pretty much the other half of their relationship in a nutshell: When pete isn’t lying and betraying her, Peg is forcing him to do stuff. As you can probably guess by how harsh i’ve been this aspect has aged INCREDIBLY poorly for me. This is your standard sitcom setup: asshole or dumbass or both dad, put upon wife who has to keep him in line.. but it’s just not how a GOOD marriage works and got so damn draining over time. Again and again we got things saying marriage is awful, comitting sucks unless your young, again and again. It’s why i’m REALLY happy we’ve been getting far better sitcom dad’s and marraiges lately. Bob’s Burgers is naturally the example, with the wife being the less sane one but both having their quriks and neither being so entirely dysfunctional you ever question the marriage. The Louds are another good example: Lynn Sr. And Rita NEVER right with each other that i’ve seen, have a perfectly happy relationship despite 11 kids, and wholly support each other, with Rita happily giving her husband the go ahead to quit his soul draining desk job so he could pursue his deream as a chef, and later letting him take a massive fincial gamble and open up a restraunt, purely because she belivied in him. Finally we have the Williams from Craig of the Creek who are easily one of the best married couples i’ve seen in western animation and one of them’s played by Terry Crews so that shoudln’t be a shock. I could prabobly find more but my points made: this trope REALLY ages the show poorly, more than any of hte 90′s specific tech or swinging theme song I just realized I forgot to talk about. Eh i’ll save it for the next episode.

I have NEVER liked this trope anyway: only simpsons has really made it work for me and Family Guy did until they just stretched it too far, and with Simpsons at least they freqeuently have episodes pointing out how unehalthy it is. It dosen’t help this trope somehow STILL isn’t dead, as evidenced by the fact Rick and Morty has it in spades and for SOME damn reason got them back together.. I mean they don’t fight anymore but it dose’nt fix the problem. So yeah while I’m not holding against the show TERRRIBLY as this trope wasn’t as widespread at the time, it still dosen’t make it GOOD even at it’s core.

Things get worse for Pete though as while Goofy praises him (And the Pete Kids rightfly wonder if Goofy is from space given the logic of ANYONE being that fond of pete. ) Pete finds out GOOFY bought the house he was going to demolish and will be staying with them till they move in. I have only one response to his misery....

Max also futzes with the tv which you THINK would lead to Peg finding out her husband is the antagonist of a Blumhouse movie but instead just does nothing.

So then we have Dinner where we find out SUPRISINGLY, Pete actually has a somewhat valid reason for resenting Goofy: Goofy cost him the big game in high school as Goofy and Peg were on the cheerleading squad together and Goofy accidently kicked pete in the face at a crucial moment, which Pete got the blame for. Granted I did say SOMEWHAT: Goofy is genuinely apologetic and says Pete shouldn’t of been blamed and Pete’s apparently been hiding the truth from his kids this whole time. I do call bullshit on that as while admittedly i don’t get into local football or any sportsball, Pete works at a dealership. At least one asshole would bring it up to either rile him up or out of genuine rage at something that happened at the very least a decade and a half ago. Pete hasn’t let go of this footbullshit DESPITE owning a successful dealership, having two wonderful children, an even more wonderful wife, and a friggin nice boat. But really.. it speaks to Pete’s character in any version: His ultimate undoing is his greed, his tendency to keep going and never settle. It’s something he oddly shares with Donald but Pete lacks Donald’s’s heart or redeeming moments. Pete just wants and wants and wants no matter who gets hurt because he’s inehently selfish and will simply TAKE It if he can’t get it. But it’s why he’s miserable, and ultimately ends up divorced: He can’t be satisfised so he often looses what he has.

So with Pete on the rampage Peg sends the boys upstairs. It’s here we get PJ’s first Woobie Moment: He has a room FULL of cool toys, comics and what not but his dad is such a greedy asshole he refuses to let the kid actually use them. He even knows this isn’t normal but is just resigned to it. Rob Paulsen is phenomenal as PJ, being funny and energetic, snarky and off to the side or depressed and fearful all with grace and ease and all making this all feel like the same sweet kid.

I mention this because Paulsen’s action is so good it highlights an issue with PJ: the writers lean way too hard into how much a hardass Pete is, to the point the series, likely intentionally, HEAVILY implies he physically abuses pete and the stuff on screen isn’t over the top enough, at least for tehse episodes, to get away with how he emotionally abuses him either. He talks down to him, doesn’t let him play toys and as seen by various episode synopsis and the next episode, uses mind games to keep him in line. THIS is why I can’t stand this version of Pete. He’s an abusive monster to this poor boy and I won’t stands for it, nor it being played off as a joke, especially since they try to ping pong between using it for comedy and using it seriously which just.. doesn’t work.

So Max earns his future best pals’ friendship by trying to help him.. and succeeding by pointing out that while he said not to use the Tank anywhere on the ground.. he didn’t mention the celling or walls and has the tank going up the walls. And clearly by the fact PJ is seen sleeping with it later, despite Petes’ss anger at this, Peg presumably ripped him a new one once she found out about the toys thing.

So that night Pete can’t sleep with Goofy tromping around the house and tries to whack him with a Golf Club. I’d give him another sucks count..

But given my brother lives in the basement and I sometimes accidently wake him by tromping overhead without meaning too, I DO get getting a bit fed up with someone clomping around and waking you up, and it is a slapstick cartoon so trying to physically assault someone is less of a crime here and more a setup for a punchline.

So get an UTTERLY hilarious scene as teh combination fo tripping on golf balls and Goofy singing his family lullabye, camptown races with lyrics

So Pete proceeds to have another freak out this time RUNNING ALL THE WAY TO DUCKBURG, THROWING THE OLD MAN OUT OF THE CAR AND THEN BRINGING IN THE GOOF’S BEDS AND BOXES BEFORE TOSSING THEM IN THE HOUSE. It is truly an amazing combination of Jim’s utter talent as he babbles hialriously and the animators as they just make it sing. It’s a great climax to part one. So with that the goofs are home and Pete semeingly gets to go to sleep.. until they start working on unpacking.

Final Thoughts On Good Neighbor Goof:

This is an excellent start to the series. The jokes are really well paced, the characters well introduced and the humor top notch> I had my complaints obviously.. but i’ts more systemic issues with the series, and stuff that honestly it dosen’t hamper my viewing experience for the most part. The PJ stuff does, but it’s not as big a deal this episode as he barely interacts with his Dad, but otherwise it’s stuff that just hasn’t aged well and they can’t be faulted for not seeing a deluge of terrible sitcoms a comin. The cast is top notch: I didn’t get to them in the proper review so Dana HIll deserves praise as Max, giving just the right amount of 90′s TV Kid mixed with real honest emotion and i’ts a tragedy she’s gone. She would’ve been right up there with the rest of this amazing cast in history. Though at least she got a worthy succesor.. but that’s not for now. For now we’re taking an interlude to look at the wonderfully 90′s music video that was aired along with this special:

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Gotta Be Gettin Goofy:

This was my raw reaction to this video. Now is it bad? No the song has great flow it somehow manages to scratch Bill Farmer’s goofy vocals with the beat, the rapper makes the cheesy lyrics work, and the chorus of “gotta be getting goofy” backs a great bit. It’s not a bad SONG.. but the video is a hilariously insane mess. We have two of the poor dancers forced to wear just.. HORRIFYING looking Goofy costumes that look like the Dog based sequel to cats that thankfully only exists in my nightmares

I pityt hose poor dancers. Meanwhile the rest of the dancers are wearing Goofy Baseball uniforms and letterman jackets for some reason. is it beause Goofy likes sportsball. I thoguth they just had them lying around but now I see the g’s on the uniform. They CHOOSE to do this. Max also does a shredding guitar solo, not the max up there the animated max. Combine that with LOTS OF random clips from the show and you get this thing.. and i’ts worth a watch> it’s just hilarously what the shit.. not the most hilariously what the shit thing i’ve seen.. not even this week... that would be this thing from the Eurovision Song contest...

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Your welcome. So moving on because this is already badly behind.

Good Neighbor Goof:

So our second episode opens with the Goof’s trying to move in and pete being upset their being loud. Now being upset your neighbors are being loud is one thing: Mine set off fireworks all week around fourth of July. Granted Pete would probably be the one doing such nonsense but still, I get it.. but it’s fair to have a lot of noise when your moving in and in Goofy’s case also trying to patch up a massive hole in the place.

So he does what any reasonable man would do and activates the earthquake machine he hid in the basement.

I wasn’t kidding about the MODOK comparisons. Granted the thing uses a belt to somehow do this.. but it’s designed to SIMULATE AN EARTHQUAKE AN DDOES SO WELL. The only reason Goofy’s not dead is that pete uses a low setting that instead ends up unpacking everything. IT’s a neat gag but again... PETE HAS AN EARTHQUAKE MACHINE.

Which Goofy accidently destroys his boat with. Meanwhile the boys try to talk over tin can phones only for Pete to notice and try to stop it because he’s a dick and doesn’t want his son to be happy because he hates Goofy. So Pete’s idea of a punishment is for PJ to wear the family shoes to go crush cans while wearing a helmet and given Pete mutters to himself about this keeping PJ away from Max i’ts likely something that he made up to torture his son soooo..

Pete Sucks Counter: 8 Max being a good pal agrees to help his friend crush the cans down to recycle for money and comes up with a zany scheme to do so

Meanwhile we get a few scenes of Pete trying to eff with Goofy’s day: Peg is making food for Goofy like a good neighbor/someone planning for their eventual divorce, so Pete makes him some too with tons of hot sauce. By the laws of classic cartoons, naturally Goofy loves it and wonders if Pete has hot sauce, while Pete trying it explodes his head Scanner’s style.

He then tries giving Goofy a chainsaw loaded with some kind of explosive or something... so yes he’s esclated to MURDER over.. Goofy annoying him a bunch as he’s apparently given up on the whole taking over that lot thing.

Pete Sucks Counter: 9 But it is hilariously petty and naturally backfires again by cartoon law as Pete ends up starting it for Goofy who can’t get it going.

Meanwhile PJ and Max inact the plan which is to drop a bolder with a rope on the cans, but end up having to ride the cans down when PJ lets it go too early and it ends up sweeping both boys on top of the box. They have fun though, with PJ actually getting to enjoy life for once and loving having a new friend.

So as his lot in life Pete has to ruin it by yelling at PJ for getting diryt, then for hanging out with max as he can SMELL the goof on him.. which means he’s either exaggerating or he knows what goofy smells like.

So he forbids PJ to see him insluting max.. while Max is hanging out the window and ends up crying. Oh and Peg never gets involved in any of this across both parts, likely because she dosen’t know.. which makes it even MORE horrifying as it gives off the implication Pete gets away with his abuse of his son because he hides it, like a real world abuser. But even then some things like trying to break up his and Max’s friendship or the toys thing you’d THINK she’d notice.

So we get more untetionally telling stuff as PJ says he’ll treasure this day and the only time he was happy.

Pete Sucks Count: 14 2 for the last scene, 3 for ALLL this one implies. But Max won’t give up the ghost no he won’t give it up. They haven’t the strength to hold on for long but if they both hold on together they can make each other strong. So he has a plan: have Goofy throw a Luau and invite the petes.

Peg naturally forces him to attend and Pete is a dick about it at first, but eventually enjoys himself when they do a conga line. The pets, Waffles and Chainsaw get into some antics. I do love Waffles because I love a kitty. Chainsaw is okay even though I love me a good doggo. Especially this one.

You are a Good Boy, Good Boy. But eventually while playing a party game about passing coconuts, Pete considers the coconut and considers the trees but dosen’t consider Goofy kicking him in the face AGAIN

So Pete is naturally a dick about this despite it being you know, an accident. But he takes it a step further by insulting Max Pete Sucks Count: 15 So Goofy gets mad. But here’s where a rather sizeable flaw shows up in the episode as Goofy.. acts exactly like Pete does about the insuing feud. He forbids Max to see PJ makes up rules and is generally petty and vindictive. And look Goofy could be in the shorts. He’s endlessly adaptable.. but here nothing about his character has shown he’d sink to this and it feels forced to bring abotu the climax.

Thankfully said finale salvages thing: That night Max pulls PJ into his room via the cans, and comes up with a plan.. weirdly asking PJ to hit him with a muffin to save their friendship... but it’s not random it turns out. His plan.. is brilliant. While I really don’t like these types of feud between neighbors make our kids suffer by making them not be able to be friends because we’re being petty children plots, this one has a REALLY clever solution to that: Max and PJ FAKE an oversclated fued similar to their parents, starting with insutls and throwing mulch and escalting to taking down each others fences and then throwing food at each other, before injuring their dads with planks and stuff, nothing serious just slapstick stuff, all to get both to settle down and try and get the boys to stop fighting.. it works like a charm, it’s full of great bits like Peg offering the boys pie only for Max to use it as amuination and i’ts just a great way to end one of these episodes. Not that I WANT more of these episodes but if your going to do this stock plot you might as well be creative with it.

So we end on the Petes and Goofs having a BBQ, all friends again, with Pete having his marina and Goofy nearly burning Pete’s house down and us getting a photo to end the episode.

Final Thoughts:

This one was a step down. Pete’s abuse is REALLY highlighted here and the plot is very paint by numbers and forces Goofy to be out of character for the last act for it to work at all. He just strikes me as too genuine and noble to hold onto a grudge this easily. Peg is also reduced from her usual feisty self to being oddly useless, not stepping in at ANY point to stop any of this depsite it being grossly otu of character. There’s a few great gags and a great climax, but the whole product is just okay

Later Today: Goof Week and Goofy’s birthday continue as I complete the trilogy of Shortstaculars with one about my boy! Featuring Goofy’s first apperance, his first short and the first apperance of what would eventually become Max!

If you liked this review, follow me for more and consider joining my Patreon which you can find RIGHT HERE. Even a buck a month helps me keep doing these and more gets me to my stretch goals, the next one up being the two remaining ducktales mini series, a darkwing duck episode a month and a reivew of the danny phantom film the ultimate enemy. And even a buck a month gets you access to exclusvie reviews, my patreon exclusive discord and to pick a short any time I do one of my shortstaculars. My next one is for Donald’s birthday next montha nd there’s only 6 days left to get on that pay cycle so if that sounds good to you get on in NOW while you still can and i’ll see you at the next rainbow.

#goofy goof #goofy #goof troop #max goof #P.J. Pete #PJ Pete #Pete Pete #Peg Pete #Pistol Pete #Sponerville #Gotta Be Getting Goofy #disney channel #the disney afternoon #disney afternoon #disney xd #disney plus

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stilesgivesmefeels · 4 years ago

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@firstdegreefangirl I am totally hooked on Chenford now! I have watched the entirety of Seasons 1-2 and the start of Season 3. I am now rewatching season 1. And I’ve binged on fics!

And there are so many fic ideas that I want to see for Lucy and Tim now.

Like Lucy’s birthday: She’s been Tim’s rookie for almost a year and we haven’t seen her birthday. So I am just imagining the angst potential. Maybe her birthday was right at the beginning of being a rookie so she obviously didn’t have a party or anything because they were all studying and working their asses off. Perhaps then Nolan’s end of season 2 total fuck-up derailed the next plans to celebrate. So Lucy has had two birthdays (turned 28 at the beginning and then turned 29) without really doing anything and now she is about to be 30! But at this point she doesn’t want to celebrate. She’s turning 30 and single and spends all of her time at work. And, also? It kind of seems like everyone has totally forgotten that Lucy is even a person who has birthdays.

Angela’s birthday? Drinks at the bar with Wesley and the crew.

Nolan’s birthday? Dinner party at his house with everyone.

Jackson’s birthday? Private party at a restaurant that Sterling rented out.

Tim’s birthday? Dodger’s game with hotdogs and beer.

Sgt. Grey’s birthday? Family and LAPD picnic.

Even Harper had a birthday drink with everyone.

But Lucy? Nothing for two years. She debates about whether to say anything to anyone for her 30th. Ultimately she decides that what she wants is to be with her friends even if they don’t know the real occasion. She plans a dinner at a restaurant and makes up an excuse of having won a contest for a free dinner to get them all there. It’s not technically on her birthday, rather it’s the night before because they have the next day (her actual birthday) off.

But then Angela is due ANY MINUTE NOW and put on bedrest so she and Wesley are out. Henry, Abigail, and Abigail’s parents are coming into town so Nolan is going to miss the dinner in order to meet his son’s future in-laws for the first time. Jackson, Harper, and Sgt, Grey have a case that goes belly-up and they will probably be working all night.

She loves them all and will miss them. But the most important to be there was Tim. They’ve been...flirty? At least it feels flirty to her? She thinks so. The thought of having dinner in a fancy restaurant jut her and Tim? The butterflies!

And then Rachel comes into town for a conference. And she calls Tim to meet up but only has that night free. WHO AGREES TO GO instead of Lucy’s “fancy free dinner.” But we can’t be mad at Rachel! Because she made plans to have an early breakfast with Lucy on her birthday before her conference. She and Tim have talked but haven’t visited. And they both needs some closure. She didn’t know that Tim was missing out on Lucy’s birthday dinner plans.

But Tim didn’t know that everyone else had already cancelled. He didn’t think it would be a big deal and even thought that he’d maybe meet up with them all for dessert or drinks later. He sends her a text to say that he’ll meet up late.

Tim, buddy. Seriously. Think this through. Your thoughts are still about meeting up with Lucy even after having dinner with your ex who you loved??? What does that tell you, my friend?

Anyway...back to Lucy. Sitting at the table (which was switched from her original reservation for a large group to an intimate table for two.). Alone. And watching the condensation on her water glass drip down as the minutes pass. And then gets a text that he’ll be late. So she waits. And waits. Not realizing that late means...not coming. And as the time passes she starts to get more and more nervous, feeling exposed alone in public still gets to her. And her emotions are heightened to begin with.

Meanwhile, Tim and Rachel meet up to talk. To have face-to-face closure goodbyes. And Tim is realizing that it really is closure. He’ll always appreciate the time that they spent together but he doesn’t have the same tug on his heart anymore. As they are saying goodnight (good-bye), Rachel makes a comment on Lucy’s birthday and how she can’t believe that Lucy agreed to get up early on her 30th birthday.

Tim’s face drops. Her birthday??? He had no fucking clue. Jesus. What a total fuck-up. Lucy is his rookie. HIS rookie even if she is a full-fledged officer and has been for almost a year. His friend. His...flirty-partner?

He’s so fucking mad at himself. He tries calling her but it goes straight to voicemail. Lucy didn’t want to sit and see the blank screen of her phone any longer. Even though she never never NEVER turns off her phone ever since being kidnapped. And even before then part of Officer Bradford’s rules were yo are always reachable. But now? She just can’t do it. She needs time to herself to nurse her heartbreak.

Tim is furious at himself and now he’s also a little scared. But forcing himself to stay calm as he drives (speeds) to the restaurant. He calls Angela on the way and that’s when he learns that she was put on emergency bedrest so she and Wesley aren’t there. Calls Jackson who is at the station doing paperwork for their case they just closed. He’s confused. He thought that Lucy was going to totally reschedule since Tim was going to be the only one there. Lucy had maybe led Jackson to thinking that so he wouldn’t find out about her crush on Tim. Jackson knows that Nolan also had to cancel.

Tim arrives at the restaurant in what is most definitely NOT a panic. He’s just outwardly and actively concerned. When he gets to the restaurant the hostess is not impressed. She watched that poor woman (our dear Lucy) sit and wait at that table alone. ALONE. She left alone as well. Tim is fucking pissed (again mostly at himself but that’s how he shows his outward concern). So where the fuck is Lucy?

He’s tries her apartment next. No one answers the door so he helpfully lets himself in (picks the lock; Jackson and Lucy need to really work on their security for fuck’s sake).

No Lucy at the apartment either. WHERE THE FUCK IS LUCY?

In the meantime, Lucy is getting ready to drown her sorrows with ice cream and dog cuddles. Tim gave her a key and the alarm code to be able to spend time with Kojo. (Uh-huh, sure. The dog. That’s why. Whatever you need to tell yourself, Tim.). What Lucy doesn’t know is that Tim’s alarm system alerts him to every time her code is used. He absolutely knows every time she goes to spend time with Kojo. He kinda likes knowing that she feels so comfortable at his house. (Clues, Tim. So many clues to your feelings.)

He rushes over to his house and find her in the backyard with Kojo at her feet and a pint of ice cream on the table. She’s so embarrassed when he shows up and tries to leave thinking that Tim must be there with Rachel. She’s absolutely kicking herself for showing up at Tim’s when he had a date.

Tim is feeling the biggest sense of relief. This is where he and Lucy should have been all along.

Cue confessions. And kisses. And sexy times.

And the following year? Big dinner party to celebrate Lucy’s birthday. And her engagement.

Other fics that should exist:

Angela’s wedding! Everyone has a date for the wedding except for Lucy and Tim. Lucy’s feeling all right about it thought because she has a plan. A plan to ask Tim to be her date. Except when she works up the nerve to ask him while they are in the shop one day, Tim says that he already has a date.

Readers? Tim does not have a date. But he worries that he’s getting too close to Lucy. That she’s not enough of his Boot and more like...a friend that he wants to kiss? It’s very difficult for him. So he makes a snap decision to be More Professional.

But then Lucy starts talking about dating again. The firefighter didn’t work out. But she’s talking about dating apps? He hates this.

He hates it even more when she starts going out on a date. Every. Single. Night. Every night after shift and every night on their days off, Lucy has a date with a different guy.

And it’s driving him fucking crazy,

But Lucy is determined to find a date for Angela’s wedding. She cannot be the only single one there.

Just imagine the tension in their shop for the three weeks leading up to the wedding. Lucy talking about her dates constantly. Definitely overcompensating for the fact that she asked Tim to be her date and he said no. So if she stops talking about her new-found dating then she will have to think about the object mortification and humiliation of Tim turning her down.

OMG SHE WANTS TO DIE OF SHAME JUST THINKING ABOUT IT.

So she talks about her dates. And maybe makes up a few of them.

Tim is totally miserable. He hates hearing about her dates. But also he cannot let her stop talking to him about these dates. Because what if something goes wrong? What if she needs him and he stops her from telling him? He just has to sit there and be miserable.

A misery of his own making. Because Lucy asked him out for a date for Angela’s wedding. Which is three days BEFORE her tenure as rookie is over. And he can’t date his rookie. And he wants to date Lucy. If he goes on a date with her, it won’t be platonic. Instead of telling her all this, he blurted out a “no” and she shut down.

And then the wedding arrives. Turns out none of Lucy’s dates were plus-one worthy. And Tim never even tried to get a date even though he told her he had one.

He’s doing okay with maintaining distance until one of Angela’s brothers starts hitting on Lucy right in front of him.

(Angela maybe ~m a y b e~ said something about Lucy to one of her brother’s who is a total flirt and never serious. Perfect for making a certain best friend of hers jealous. She knows what’s good for him.)

Tim cuts in on a dance with Lucy.

It’s slow and sweet and sexy. BUT STILL THREE DAYS BEFORE SHE IS NO LONGER HIS ROOKIE.

He still leaves alone at the end of the night. But not before a promise to her. A promise that in three days HE is going to be the one to ask her a question. A date question.

Lucy can’t wait.

Oh! Another idea:

What if Isabel comes back and decides that she wants Tim back? She’s been sober for a year and it’s time.

Just as Lucy and Tim were maybe becoming Lucy-and-Tim.

She’s seen how Tim is about Isabel. She knows that she can’t compete with that.

Tim, of course, uses this time to realize how serious he is about Lucy and that things are truly over, for good, with Isabel.

The Obvious Fic Idea:

Rosalind has more than one protege and they are clearly after Lucy.

Enter the Protector Tim. And having to stay at her place. And that couch just doesn’t look comfortable. Soooooooo....

And I have more fic ideas I want to see. So thanks for the new ship! I love imagining these scenarios.

#chenford #the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #not fic

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dherzogblog · 3 years ago

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The Birth of The Daily Show: 25 Years of Fake News and Moments of Zen

It was July of 1995 and I had left MTV to become President of Comedy Central. It was the basic cable equivalent of going from the NY Yankees to an expansion team. I was on the job just two weeks when I received a call from Brillstein Grey the high powered managers of Bill Maher, host of one of the networks few original programs, "Politically Incorrect". We were informed Bill and his show would leave the network when his contract expired in 12 months. It was a done deal. Bill wanted to take his show to the "big leagues" at ABC where he would follow Night Line. Comedy Central was left jilted. Terrible news for a network still trying to establish itself. We had a year to figure out how to replace him and the clock was ticking. So began the path to The Daily Show.

It was very much a fledgling Comedy Central I joined, available in barely 35 million homes, desperately seeking an identity and an audience. It was just over three years old, born into a shot gun wedding that joined two struggling and competing comedy networks, HBO’s Comedy Channel and Viacom’s HA!, Watching them both stumble out of the gate, the cable operators forced them to merge, telling them: "We only need one comedy channel, you guys figure it out”. After some contentious negotiations the new channel was born and the red headed step child of MTV and HBO set out to find the pop culture zeitgeist its parents had already expertly navigated. The network had yet to define itself. The programming consisted mainly of old stand up specials from the likes of Gallagher (never underestimate the appeal of a man smashing watermelons), a hodgepodge of licensed movies (“The God’s Must be Crazy and The Cheech and Chong trilogy were mainstays) and Benny Hill reruns. The networks biggest hit by far was the UK import “Absolutely Fabulous”, better know as “AbFab”. Comedy Central boasted a handful of original shows, including the wonderfully sublime "SquiggleVision" of “Dr. Katz”, the sketch comedy "Exit 57" (starring the then unknown Amy Sedaris and Stephen Colbert) and of course Maher’s "Politically Incorrect". In retrospect I don’t think Bill got enough credit for pioneering the idea of political comedy on mainstream TV. Back then he was the only one doing it.

Politically Incorrect performed just fine, but got more critical attention than ratings. It was a panel show, and I had something a bit different in mind to replace it. I knew we needed a flagship, a network home base, something akin to ESPN's Sports Center where viewers could go at the end of a the day for our comedic take on everything that happened in the last 24 hours….."a daily show". I had broad idea for it in my head. I would describe it as part "Weekend Update", part Howard Stern, with a dash of "The Today Show" on drugs complete with a bare boned format to keep costs low so we could actually afford to produce it. We could open with the headlines covering the day's events (our version of a monologue), followed by a guest segment (we wouldn't need to write jokes...only questions!), and finish with a taped piece. Simple, right? We just needed someone to help flesh out our vision.

Comedy Central was a a second tier cable channel then and considered a bit of a joke (no pun intended). It had minuscule ratings, no heat and even less money to spend. Producers were not lining up to work with there. Eileen Katz ran programming for the channel and the two of us began pitching this idea to every producer who would listen. One of the first people we approached was Madeleine Smithberg, an ex Letterman producer and had overseen "The Jon Stewart Show" for us at MTV. We thought she was perfect for the role. “You can’t do this, you can’t afford this, you don't have the stomach for this, it will never work ” Madeliene said when we met with her. We could not convince her to take the gig. Ok then....we moved on. The problem was we heard that same refrain from everybody. No one wanted the job. So after weeks being turned down by literally EVERYONE, I said to Eileen: “We have to go back to Madeleine and convince her to do this with us"!

Part our pitch to her was we would go directly to series. There would be no pilot. The show was guaranteed to go on air. We had decided this show was our to be our destiny and we had to figure it out come hell or high water. As a 24 hour comedy channel, if we couldn't figure out a way to be funny and fresh every day...what good were we? We told Madeliene we were committed to putting the show on the air and keeping it there till we got it right (for at least a year anyway). That, plus some gentle arm twisting got her to sign on. Shortly after that, Lizz Winstead did too.

Madleiene and Lizz very quickly landed on their inspired notion of developing the show and format as a news parody. It brought an immediate focus and a point of view to the process . All of the sudden things started to take shape and coming to life. Great ideas started flowing fast and furious while an amazing collection of funny and talented began to come on board. Madeliene and Lizz were off to the races. Now all we needed was a host.

The prime time version of ESPN's Sports Center was hosted by Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann back then and it was must see cable TV. But I had recently started to notice another guy hosting the show's late night edition. He was funny, with a snarky delivery reminiscent of Dennis Miller. His name was Craig Kilborn. On the phone with CAA agent Jeff Jacobs one day, I asked if he knew happened to know who repped him? “I do" he said. "We just signed him”. Within days he was in my office along with Madeleine, Lizz, and Eileen who were all a bit skeptical about the tall blond guy with the frat boy vibes sitting across from them. After opening the meeting with a few off color comments that would probably get him cancelled today (an early warning sign fo sure), Craig ultimately won them over and we had our host.

FUN FAC#1: Minutes after the news of Craig's hiring went public, Keith Olberman's agent called me directly to ask why we hadn't considered hiring him?

Ok, we had a host and producers...but what to call it? After sifting through dozens of ideas for a title, Madeleine called me one day and said, "I think we should just call it what we've been calling it all along...."The Daily Show". As we approached our launch date we taped practice shows and took them out to focus groups to get real life feedback. The groups hated it.... I mean with a red hot hate. They hated Craig, the format, the jokes, everything. We were crushed and dejectedly looked around at the room at one another. "Now what?" “Either they’re wrong, or we are". I said I think they are...but it doesn’t matter, we're doing this!" We never looked back.

The show took off quickly garnering some quick buzz and attention, we felt like we had crashed the party. Well, sort of. We had no shortage of fun, growing pains and drama along the way. The Daily Show version 1.0 was about to unravel. In a December 1997 magazine interview Craig made some truly offensive and inappropriate remarks about Lizz and female members of the staff. Whether it was poor attempt at humor or just plain misogynist (or both) is beyond the point. It was all wrong, very wrong. Craig was suspended for a week without pay. Lizz left the show. In the moment I chose to protect the show and its talent more so than Lizz. That was wrong too. It's more than cringe worthy looking back now, and I regret not making some better decisions then. My loyalty to our host was later "rewarded" when in the Spring of 1998 Kilborn's team, a la Bill Maher, unceremoniously informed us he had signed a deal to follow Letterman on CBS when his contract expired at the end of the year. No discussion, a done deal. Comedy Central jilted again. Like Maher, Kilborn wanted his shot at the network big leagues and we had a little over six months to figure out how to replace him. We all know how that chapter ended. That search would eventually reunite us with Jon Stewart who along with The Daily Show took Comedy Central and basic cable to the "the big leagues" on their own terms, redefining late night comedy in the process The rest, as they say, is "Fake News" history.

Fun Fact #2: before approaching Jon (who I did not originally think would be interested) I initially offered the job to a chunkier, largely unknown Jimmy Kimmel, fresh off his co hosting duties on "Win Ben Stein's Money" ...only to have him turn us down.

My fascination with late night began as a kid. I remember how exciting it was to stay up to sneak a peek at the Carson monologue and watch him do spit takes with his chummy Hollywood guests. Later on I also loved the heady adult conversation Dick Cavett would have with everyone from Sly Stone to Groucho Marx. But it was the comedic revolution of Saturday night Live in 1975, followed by Letterman's game changing show in 1981 that truly established late night as the coolest place on the television landscape. I could only dream of one day being part of it.

25 years on, I couldn’t be more proud of The Daily Show and its legacy. Those days helping build it alongside Madeleine, Lizz, Eileen and the team were among the most satisfying (and fun) experiences I have ever had. It was thrilling to take a shot at the late night landscape and try and make our mark, especially when no one thought we could.

I am prouder still of what Trevor Noah and his staff have achieved since they took the hand off from Jon, evolving and growing the show through a new voice and lens. I think my personal "Moment Of Zen" will last as long as Trevor remains behind the desk, allowing me to selfishly boast of having hired every host this award winning and culture defining franchise has ever had.

25 years later. it remains as relevant as ever, a bona fide late night institution, standing shoulder to shoulder with all the great shows that inspired us to start.

#the daily show #jon stewart #trevor noah #comedy central

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jayne-hecate-writer · 4 years ago

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The Mandalorian... In Lego form

What can I add to the praise about the Disney Plus series, The Mandalorian, that has not already been said?

Yes, it is really very good, I was captivated within the first minute and was heart broken during the third episode, entitled The Sin, when the Mandalorian handed over the child to the Imperial officer, played so beautifully by Werner Herzog. Of them all, it is probably episodes three and four that are my favourites, showing the more gentle side to the character. But let us be honest, when choosing favourite episodes of this series, we the viewer have been rather spoilt because there is not a dud among them. Not even the sixth episode, which was a heist story and could easily have been done rather badly, but wasn’t and even included a fabulously dry Dave Filoni cameo as a New Republic pilot. No, not a single missed beat, bad line or failed joke throughout series one.

This is not to say that it does not have its cold brutal moments though, the Quarren being bisected in the first episode was utterly shocking, you even hear his legs heit the floor! Encasing the good natured Mythol in carbonite was really mean. Yet, they saved the humour of child abuse right up until the end and the speeder scouts indifference in violently handling the child. These moments of suffering are balanced so perfectly with real heart and leave a lump in the throat, even when dealing with an assassin droid walking into a lava flow. Terminator eat your heart out!

So, it must be time to combine some of the biggest loves of my rather childish, adult life into one hobby, namely my love of Star Wars and my love of Lego. With every new franchise released under the Star Wars banner, Lego get good dibs on making tie in sets. With the release of the Mandalorian, the Lego sets have been exceptional and if you have not yet seen them, you should go and have a look at the Brickset page.

The first set, number 75254 or AT-ST Raider is a glorious reworking of the beloved Imperial walker, as seen during the Battle of Endor, but here it comes with loose wiring and scratched paint. The colours are indicative of rust, repainting of old worn out parts and some battle damage, all achieved with coloured bricks and several stickers. The effect is really very pleasing and the walker stands at just over twenty five centimetres tall. All that it is missing is the red glow in the cocpit. The minfigs that come with this set just wonderful. Cara Dune, played so effortlessly well by Gina Carono in the show, is a really lovely minifig, although having a globally available minifig of your character must be exciting even for a movie star. Along with the walker come two raider pilots and then even Mando himself, in his dirty and mismatched armour, which is a little odd. By this point in the show, when he meets and briefly fights with Cara Dune, he already has his new Beskar cuirass of armour, complete in shining silver. So one has to ask why he is presented to us in the older colours of his armour that was destroyed by the Mudhorn in the second episode? Over all though, 75254 is a lovely set, even with the annoyance of having to apply stickers (which is a topic that takes on the additional needs of disability issues for me and my manky old lady fingers), rather than using printed pieces.

Set 75267, the Mandalorian Battle Pack is simple, cheap and rather pretty. This is a basic set with four minifigs, all in various colours of Mandalorian armour which may be different clans, with a small gun emplacement and speeder bike. The warriors are split equally male and female, but I have no idea which is which, due to the lack of lipstick, floral tops and flowing long hair, the usual key indicators used by Lego to show the gender split (stories of my subverting this by placing the ‘male’ bodies with the ‘female’ heads, are very likely true!). Removing the helmets reveals an unprinted black head, which is slightly disturbing, but this is something that Lego had done for several years now.

The big set of this theme for 2020 has to be the fabulous ship used by the Mandalorian, the beautifully named Mandalorian Bounty Hunter Transport Ship… Oops yeah, it seems that somebody fucked up. Set number 75292, Razor Crest has in some cases been renamed following claims of trademark usage by another company, who just happen to make Lego compatible sets and some may claim have been guilty of cloning Lego sets without license. Oh dear.

I pre-ordered my set a good three months prior to release and thank the heavens that I did, because it was hopelessly delayed and finally cancelled three days after release and so I had to deal with Lego directly... during a pandemic outbreak... when every anguished parent with a Star Wars addicted child was no doubt screaming for their Mandalorian set too. Lego were hellishly busy and no doubt there were many like me, disappointed Amazon customers scrabbling to find the sets they had ordered weeks before. How many of those adults with debit cards were buying the toy for themselves though, remains a closely guarded industry secret.

When the set arrived, I was impressed by the actual size of the box which was huge and which my cat now uses for a bed! This was just the outer packaging used by Lego to ship the set, but the actual set box was still quite large and also beautifully printed, if surprisingly heavy.

Building the model was fun, even if there is a fair amount of repetition due to the chirality of the ship and the usual struggles with yet more bloody stickers! The engine nacelles are probably the least screen accurate feature, given the rough tooth like arrangement on the front intakes bares little resemblence to the smooth circular versions on the screen rendered ship. This is a tiny little complaint about an otherwise awesome model though. (I am just going to pause here for a moment. Are they really air intakes? Given that this is a spacecraft and it can travel at ‘light-speed’, why does it have these large open front intakes that resemble the compressor fan of a jet engine? Actually, that is a stream of thought that can only lead to sadness, especially with the roar of said engine as it flies across screen, supposedly in space, you know space. The place where NO ONE can hear you scream! But can hear if you miss a gear on your spaceship!)

Minfigs with this set are thoroughly cool, with our classic Mando himself, Din Djarin. He does of course have the child with him and the fidure of the child is adorable. This set also includes Greef Karga, a Scout Trooper and IG11… Um. Once again, this is a potentially confused set. Is this from the first episode or the last two? I don’t recall seeing the Scout troopers in the first episode so much, but they are present and a large part of the finale. Mando does of course have some serious issues with droids, having been orphaned during the Clone Wars, by a B2 Super Battle Droid (Speaking of droids and the Clone Wars, this does explain to me why when Luke and Obi Wan visit Mos Eisley, the cantina owner tells Luke that the droids are not welcome. It was a glaringly obvious issue that I never gave thought to, of course people would mistrust droids, the Clone Wars were a political tool used by a member of the elite, to secure their own power while creating political turmoil in which they could thrive and in which many thousands of innocent people lost their lives. I wonder if this was written to parallel real life, not that we have many examples of this in the real world), which is shown in heart breaking visceral detail during the several flashbacks we see. Again, this is just another element in this series that goes to such great depth to give the characters real heart. Anyway, back to my point, a part of his redemption was Mando coming to accept and even trust a droid, which he does with IG11, despite it being Mando himself who terminated the IG unit to begin with. So with a Scout trooper, IG11 and Greef Karga, would it be fair to say that with the child in hand, Mando should be in his silver Beskar armour? It would appear not and thus Mando is still in his dirty, rusted and damaged armour with this set. At some point they simply must release a set with him in shiny new Beskar, but maybe that will come with the release of Series two.

Over all, the sets released in this theme for 2020 have all been excellent and to an adult child like myself, well worthy of collecting, building and displaying… Because these are not toys! They are valuable collectors pieces, future antiques and actually rather pretty. Which leads me onto my next section, how to display the models while making them look like something interesting and not just a pile of bricks. I had a space that you could have called a bookshelf, not a great space for books if I am honest, being slightly awkward and on top of my Lego desk. So I decided to fill this space with a Lego Diorama that measures one hundred and six studs wide and twenty four studs deep. It was a crap bookcase and my Lego books kept falling over or worse, falling off altogether to land on whatever I was working on at the time. The gloss painted finish proved to be be sticky, which damaged a couple of my instructions booklets and well, these are the issues you get when you design and build your own furniture, out of scrap wood and offcuts. Yes, the furniture is a bit mismatched in my office, but I made nearly all of it. Maybe one day I will do a show and tell.

The display started as a simple thing, a couple of enclosed boxes in which I could build a pair of scenes. My first scene was the Rebel Alliance looking at a hologram of the Death Star, while planning an attack on the technological terror. It is half based on Episode four with a dash of episode six. I added flickering lights and a large Death Star shell from the planets sets and stood back to admire my work. It was… OK-ish and sat like that for several months as I planned the next box and then what was to go above it.

With the release of the Mandalorian, I knew that the remaining box had to be the Covert, with the Armourer and her forge. I also knew that with the Razor Crest, I wanted some kind of scene above the covert to place both the ship and the AT-ST together, which while technically mixing a couple of episodes set on different worlds, could be seen in the soul of the show, rather than an accurate depiction of the Mandalorian itself. With the addition of some more lights it was all going so well and then I had to re-home Vader's castle, a task of Sisyphean proportions.

Humour aside, I need a larger office. With my Solo, Rebels, Rogue One, Clone Wars, New Hope and final trilogy themes to my Star Wars Lego display, plus the collection of Technic lego so large it required specialist furniture to be built, I have run out of room. Vader’s castle is thankfully taller than it is wide and it fitted onto the shelf fairly well. It also took lighting effects really nicely and I was pleased with the results, in particular, the glowing hologram of the Emperor that appears in miniature in front of Vader's desk. However, it now looks like I have a nice castle, built on the edge of a run down city slum, with the sewers taken over by rogue blacksmiths and a group of noisy political activists. If any of you can spot the social commentary in here, well done you. Poor old Vader however can barely get any sleep, no wonder his mouse droid keeps leaping off the model and onto my carpet, it wants to escape for some peace!

So now that the office shelves are filled, what should I do next? Well actually, there are some things on the Razor Crest that I am not happy with, aspects that need some work to make it look a little better. First to go is that hideous hole in the top. Yes, it allows you to claw the pod out, but for display, rather than play, the hole is unacceptable. I made my own Moff Gideon (Using Winstone from Ghostbusters for the head and an Imperial Pilot body) and equipped him with a Darksabre. I added a pair of speeder bikes too, one for the scout that came with the Razor Crest and one for a scout that I added later.

I dread to think how much I have spent on this project, there is easily three hundred pounds in sets on my shelf alone, consisting of three large ships, one walker and a castle. There are also the various minifigs I bought from else where, such as the Rebel Alliance leadership and spare Mandalorian warriors. There are all of the lights, the wire and the switches, which cost about twenty pounds. It all adds up rather quickly and luckily for me, most of the Lego consists of bricks that I have collected over the years and a lot of those bricks were second hand.

Was it worth it? Yes it was. Not only was it a lot of fun to plan and build, but as a disabled person, it is nice to have a hobby that I can still manage and do fairly well. It is nothing like climbing a mountain, or wild camping with my mountain bike, but it stopped me going insane with boredom, especially during lockdown. Who knows what I can do next, but it is nice to be back on the technic and building actual gear boxes again.

#lego star wars #the mandalorian #star wars #lego moc #Custom Lighting #Disability #Lockdown #Scout Trooper #the razor crest #Darth Vader #Vader's Castle #AT-ST Walker #Scout Walker #Chicken Walker #The Armourer #Beskar #IG11 #The Child #baby yoda

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sacredcynic · 4 years ago

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Losing Friends

For my mom it was the pots and pans. When she would get extremely frustrated with us boys she would throw the pots into the cabinet, they would band loudly and she would say very sternly, “go to your rooms!” My friend’s dad would look up and ask his wife, “where is the belt?” That was our clue to run away – fast. Every parent has been there – the moment when you have had enough, and the only recourse is to just snap. We forget the names of the kids and just start snapping off punishments from the top of our head. Well, I am there this week. For the past few months the E-Merge has been quiet. The quiet has not been the result of not having anything to say, but because there is no oxygen left in the room. What is the good of saying anything when no one is listening?

Like the exasperated parent, I have finally had enough and it is time to send people to their metaphorical rooms. I also realize that this is probably the day I lose all of my friends, but some things need to be said. I also realize that there is no room to move forward until we start to listen to others, and learn to see ourselves in clearer way.

You conspiracy people – go to your room, and read a book when you get there. Let me get this straight – our president is there to save us from a giant conspiracy where the government will execute an intricate plan to insert a micro-chip in everyone to track our every movement. This is planned by Bill Gates and a virus that no one knew about 10 months ago is the catalyst for this plan, and Trump is the head of the government that the president will save us from. Did I get that right? My head hurts. Go to your room – you are grounded from social media for a year.

Now to the governors and many other local leaders – go to your room. I am tired of hearing you talk all of the time. I am really tired of the whole, “we are all in this together” schtick. Let me get this straight, you banned people from earning a living while you kept collecting checks, visited you vacation homes and then kept telling people we are all in this together. That is a lot of hubris there. You are grounded until the next election. The voters have a chance to ground you permanently, but they won’t – sigh.

Professional sports players – go to your room. Let me get this straight – you decide not to play and we will be so distraught from you not playing that we will bend to your opinion. Is that correct? Here is the problem – I really haven’t noticed you aren’t playing. I might have but the road I take home from work was shut down by a protest so I missed dinner, and missed the time you were supposed to play anyway. This might come as a surprise but many of us work hard just to pay the bills, and find it hard to listen to millionaires lecture. Go to your rooms. Your punishment is to get your wish and not play anymore. I look forward to seeing you in the cubicle, or on the assembly line.

Let me talk to some of my white friends. I know you are there, I can smell the sunscreen from here. Go to your room. There are things worth talking about and we need to lean into the conversation. Some of our friends of color experience things that we do not understand, and we need to be aware of it. There are things we do when we get pulled over in a nice car because it is a good idea to do them. Some of our friends have to do it because it is a necessity. Some of us get upset when we get in the slow check-out lane at Mariano’s. We would be furious at the treatment some of our friends have regularly faced. We assume that there is a diversity of thought among our white friends while we watch a culture that often assumes people of color march in lock step. There are barriers some have to cross that we do not have to. We must humbly step across those barriers. We must take the first step - always. Your punishment – you are banished to the slow check-out lane for the next year.

To some who are protesting vehemently – go to your room and read some historical biographies. You have a point but unless we discuss responsibility at the same time this will get nowhere. Perhaps holding up someone who steals the weapon of an officer and points it at him is not worth lionizing. Neither is someone with arrest warrants for sexual assault who chooses to fight police officers. Certainly, we can agree that there are issues that are worthy of discussion, like the militarization of the police. Can we not also discuss the absolute necessity of self-control, character and treating police with respect? Self-government is an impossibility if we insist on not controlling ourselves. Your punishment is to spend six months reading the speeches of Martin Luther King.

Now it is time for the church – go to your room. Some of you are posting right wing memes and telling everyone that if one is a Christian then they must agree with your meme. In recent months the left wing folks have been even worse. A Christian would only have this opinion. Stop it. Unfortunately, it has not stopped there. We have carried this discussion to mask-wearing. If you don’t require everyone to wear a mask, then you are selfish, not enlightened like me. Others see churches that require a mask and see the same selfishness at work, making a decision based solely on a sense of personal safety. Your punishment is you have to listen to a sermon every day for the next six months – and you thought the old 2-week revival was bad. While you are listening you must write nice things about people who look at things differently than you.

Here is another group, I see you rich white kids with the bricks and the Molotov cocktails. Go to your room, which is probably still in your parent’s very nice house, except you don’t like your parents so you choose to take it out on the small business owner. Your parents built a home and a life, but somehow you hate them so you want to burn everything down. What is your point? That small business owner you destroyed – let me tell you about that family. They were in business in Kenosha in the late 1980s. You are too young to remember and have never troubled yourself to learn history, but that was when Kenosha was boarded up. The auto plants had left and half the businesses were gone. It was bleak. Except that guy you burned down stayed, even though it was tough. When things started to come back that business was a catalyst for others. It probably also sponsored a few little league teams and donated things to the church. The existence of that business has changed the life of hundreds of people. For those keeping score that is hundreds more than you. Your punishment is to be grounded to your room and having to listen to your parents read the stories of your grandparents to you, so you can learn about their hard work.

Finally, last but not least – everyone who participates in “cancel culture.” Go to your room and give your cell phone to me. You spend your time telling people who can talk and who can’t talk. In order to speak someone has to be the right color, or belong to the correct group. We are very tired of you. If we are going to belong to the same culture, we all have a right to speak in that culture. Plus, you seem awfully insistent on dividing everyone into their own tribe. We have been this way before and it is a disaster. Your punishment is to be transported back in time to the Balkans in the 1990s. You need a front row seat on what happens when we relegate everyone into membership of a group. Your punishment is you must watch German chefs cook Mexican food for a group of Italians. That scene is something to truly celebrate.

Now everyone has been punished and sent to their room. While we deserve the punishments we have received, it might be good to give each group a way out. You can come out of your room when you are ready to meet in the living room without an agenda. There is no way forward when we start with our agendas, and refuse to listen to others. Someone needs to start and it should be the church. This is our chance to show what an alternative community looks like. This is not a community where we all agree, but where we all love each other anyway. Someone needs to lead – it should be us. Politics does not offer a solution. Violence has never offered a solution. People leading by example might. I’ll see you in the living room.

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stereksecretsanta · 5 years ago

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Merry Christmas, @hotaruyuki!

I hope you, and everybody else will enjoy this little thing.

Read on AO3

*****

Two Potted Pines and a Hole in the Wall

It’s movie worthy, definitely not something that should happen on an ordinary Tuesday shortly before December. And yet it happens at precisely seven minutes to ten on that very Tuesday morning, while Derek’s in the middle of decorating the two small trees his sister had brought from the nursery, the smell of baking bread and cooling cookies hanging mouth watering in the air.

For a few weeks workers had been in and out of the space next door, bringing with them the ruckus of power tools and people yelling to be heard above said tools. The noise had been annoying, grating on his nerves, but he’d taken comfort from the fact they usually didn’t start before seven or later and that they’d eventually be done, not to mention they’d been good for business. Soon they’d packed up their things and left at the end of one day not being there the next.

It hadn’t been deserted though; Derek had seen the back of someone going through the door, had heard what could be furniture being dragged across the floor and various other noises indicating there would probably be a shop next to Derek’s soon. But today’s been quiet, and like he’s done every year since Laura conned him into opening his little bakery, Derek - after the morning rush was over and Isaac had left for class - turned the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and got lost in the task of decorating.

A pounding sound pulls Derek from his thoughts, and once he’s focused on it he can’t ignore it. Lifting his head he is met by the expected sight of the beverage making machinery and the stacks of to-go-cups, the open floor space between that and the counter, the old fashioned looking till at one end and the pick-up station closest to where he currently is, with various syrups, stirrers, packaged sugar, sweetener and creamer and a million other things he doesn’t care about and the existence of which he’s outsourced to his manager, Erica, who knows about these things. (Derek bakes, everything else is Laura’s fault. Thankfully she also hired Erica without whom he’d be lost).

The sound is familiar but before Derek can make out what it might be it suddenly grows louder, morphs into something akin to smashing porcelain (not a single plate, but the entire cabinet) followed by a bemused “eum… oops,” raising questioningly at the end. Turning, the pretzel shaped ornament he was about to hang on the tree still dangling from between his fingers, Derek finally locates the source of the noise. In the wall Derek’s shop shares with the one next door - the wall Derek had thought was a solid concrete common wall - is a hole that might be big enough for him to wiggle through with a man standing on the other side, a hammer clutched in his still raised hand, a few nails sticking out between plush lips, eyes wide with surprised shock.

Everything is still and quiet, the two of them locked in a disbelieving staring contest - seems Derek wasn’t the only one thinking that had been solid wall - and then, like the snap of fingers, the world starts moving once more, the man wobbling, leaning a little too far forward and realizing he’s falling Derek’s knees straighten and his feet take him across the room just in time to put his hands on the man to keep him from toppling over and fall through the hole and injure himself, not caring for the faint sound of shattering glass.

This close Derek can see the faintest hint of stubble, a smattering of moles on pale skin and lang, dark eyelashes framing a pair of amber brown eyes. Beneath the palms of his hands the man’s stomach muscles twitch with his movement as he steadies himself, Derek only reluctantly loosening his grip when he’s certain the danger has passed.

“This was not how I imagined meeting my new neighbour,” the man’s voice is warm and deep, laced with the grin clear on his face; for some reason he doesn’t seem the least bit worried he nearly fell to his death moments ago (Derek might be a bit dramatic, it probably wouldn’t have been more than a few bruises and maybe a bend rib, which - while painful and not something to joke about - not immediately life threatening).

Taking a step down from where he’d apparently been standing on a footstool, he reaches out his hand. “I’m Stiles, thank you for saving me from myself.”

“Anytime,” he says, distracted by the fact that despite being an inch or two shorter, Stiles’ hand is quite a bit larger than his own and there are a few moles on the back of it matching the ones Derek has already noticed on his face.

Stiles laughs, genuine and delighted. “I’m gonna hold you to that, dude. I might’ve grown into my limbs but I still trip over thin air from time to time.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek says, extracting his hand from Stiles’ because he realizes they’ve been shaking for at least thirty seconds more than is usual. He also immediately has to suppress the urge to face palm as he remembers never actually introducing himself.

“Derek. My name’s Derek.” He sweeps out his hand, encompassing the room, “and this is ‘Hale’s Sweets’, finest bakery in the street.”

Stiles leans closer and sticks his head through the hole in the wall, takes his time looking around the shop. “Pleasure to meet you, Derek.” He hesitates for a moment, looks down to take in the damage before him. “Maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee as a thank you for saving me, and figure out what to do with this?”

That’s how Erica finds them when she gets back a little before three to get ready for the afternoon reopening. Stiles is telling a story about the shenanigans he and his best friend, Scott, had gotten into in high school, whole body moving and arms flinging this way and that, Derek with his head thrown back in laughter; there are no decorations hanging from the ceiling or in the window, one tree is half way decorated while the other isn’t. She grins and backs up without making a sound, quickly scribbling a note and then sneaks out the back door. As soon as it closes behind her she shoots off a two word text; It worked

Laura had taken one look at the young man before handing him the contract for the other half of the building housing ‘Hale’s Sweets’. Letting him read through it she went and told her secretary to cancel the rest of her appointments before calling Erica, asking her to get there as fast as she could.

Getting back to her office the young man had looked up and asked for a few days to have someone look it over. Laura had happily agreed and waved him of in time for Erica to catch a glimpse of him.

It had taken them less than an hour to come up with a plan and only a little while longer to set it in motion. Erica being married to a bricklayer sped up that part of the plan involving renovating the space.

He’d been back two days later with a feisty red head who’d made demands Laura was willing to meet and soon the contract was signed, Stiles - as he’d told her to call him - leaving with a copy while Laura’s secretary had filed away the original and Laura had congratulated herself with her own brilliance.

Laura had known from the second she saw him, that Stiles would be perfect for her brother. Sure, she could’ve done what normal people do and introduced the two to each other, but seeing as she didn’t know Stiles and Derek didn’t like meeting new people that wasn’t really an option. And as she’d said to Eric, where was the fun in that, anyway? Besides, it wasn’t some nefarious plan to gain world domination, more a ploy to create the best circumstances for her brother to meet someone interesting that she thought he would hit it off with.

The renovations got done in record time. Luckily the door that had originally been between the two parts of the building was still there, had only been walled on either side; getting it free on Derek’s side had been a matter of waiting for her brother’s day off and then have the crew work as fast as possible. Luckily Derek wasn’t in the habit of staring at the walls which meant he probably wouldn’t notice anything amiss. They’d uncovered and cleared the door opening and then made it look like a solid concrete wall, figuring that at some point someone was going to hang something there.

The text from Erica confirmed that Laura made the best plans.

For some reason they never get around to fix the hole in the wall.

Derek watches the space take form, sees how differently Stiles shapes it compared to his own. Shelves filled with books hang among different movie posters and paintings by local artists - little, discreet plaques informing the viewer of their names and in some cases the price of the pieces - potted plants hang in the windows and are placed on a few tables at the armchairs.

When neither’s busy they often find themselves in deep conversation through the wall, Stiles talking with his whole body and Derek listening intently, often laughing at something the other say to Erica’s wordless amusement and wonder. She’s worked for him since he opened ‘Hale’s Sweets’ and has never heard him laugh neither as frequent nor as loud.

Months passes and Derek and Stiles’ friendship grows with each passing day. They graduate from only talking through the hole in the wall during the day to the exchange of numbers and subsequent texting to doing things together outside of business. The first time Derek meets Stiles’ friends is a Friday night at a nearby bar. When he arrives they’re all half way towards drunk but they’re nice and welcoming; not necessarily people Derek would’ve chosen for himself but being thrown in among them he finds that he likes them, think they could his friends, too.

It’s a while later Stiles finds out his landlady is actually Derek’s sister. He’d fallen asleep in his tiny office and wakes to raised voices from Derek’s side of the building. Blinking owlishly at his watch he groans when he manages to make sense of the blinking numbers and, hoping Derek has some coffee he might be willing to part with, he gets up and makes his way to the wall.

Despite the early hour he recognizes Laura Hale instantly where she’s jabbing a finger at Derek’s chest, the man grimaces and catches her hand on its next inward jab. Stiles clears his throat, catching their attention; seeing him she smiles brightly while Derek looks like he’d just bitten into the world’s sourest lemon. Still, he reaches for a steaming cup on the counter and a package of sugar with his other hand, expertly rips it open and dumps the contents into the cup, then he stirs while stepping closer to the hole in the wall, handing the cup to Stiles who eagerly grabs it and takes a careful sip.

”Stiles, my sister Laura. Laura please leave,” Derek says just as Laura happily exclaims; “Stiles!” and runs up to awkwardly hug him through the wall. Derek rolls his eyes and takes the cup from Stiles almost as if he’d expected this to happen.

”In a minute, brother dear,” Laura says, her attention focused solely on Stiles.

”Ms Hale,” Stiles starts only to be cut of by a “call me Laura. After all you’re my favorite tenant. Not to mention everything I’ve heard about you and your shop; quite impressive. But have you ever considered getting a partner? Expanding your product range?”

Stiles stares at her, then at Derek who looks like the proverbial deer caught in headlights; he can’t believe he didn’t think of that. How many times has he watched potential customers walk in from Derek’s shop with a freshly baked bun or a slice of pie and a cup of coffee only to sit down at the tables in Stiles’ shop to eat and drink before browsing his wares. Not to mention every time someone comments of the heavenly scents drifting through the wall, and when leaving his shop turn left towards ‘Hale’s Sweets’ (Stiles having a ‘duh’ moment when he realizes he should’ve known Laura Hale and Derek were related long before today) to sate their sweet tooth.

”That’s,” he hesitantly begins, catching Derek’s eyes and whatever the man sees in his gaze has him relaxing, giving Stiles the confidence to finish his sentence, “actually a great idea. Derek?” The man nods in response, Laura beaming at the two of them.

”Now that’s cause for celebration. Stiles, are you busy tonight?” he shakes his head and Laura continues, “awesome. Then maybe you and that red headed friend of yours would like to come to dinner tonight. We could talk business and get to know each other.” Behind her Derek was shaking his head but Stiles grinned and said he’d call Lydia right away, see if she was free.

Enough days had passed for the last Tuesday of November to roll around once more. Cora had delivered two new pines the day before - last year’s back outside where they belonged - and Derek had gotten the decorations out of storage. The morning rush was over, the sign flipped to ‘closed’ and both Erica and Isaac had the rest of the day off. Music was playing quietly over the speakers, the smell of freshly baked goods hanging heavy in the air.

Stepping from the kitchen into the shop itself Derek couldn’t help ponder the difference from last year. He and Stiles had decided to merge their shops and the easiest way to do so was getting rid of the common wall (after making sure it wasn’t load bearing); they’d then had the workmen make another wall at waist height with a wide opening to keep the spaces apart while still a unit. The café style tables and potted plants spilled into Derek’s space, the coffee brewing migrated to Stiles’ and books were everywhere and at some point all of it became their space.

Now, with no customers in sight, Stiles was dancing to and singing along with the music. Derek sat the chest on the counter smiling at the sight; Stiles had no rhythm whatsoever and his singing wasn’t ever going to win him any awards, but he was enjoying himself, his joy infectious and Derek took a step closer, then one more and when Stiles turned in his direction put his arms around him, slowly swaying them around the room. Stiles trips and steps on his foot, Derek bumps into a chair knocking it over and still they keep moving, smiling at each other as one song ends and the next begins.

It’s dark outside when they open the box, on top of all the decorations two small, black boxes containing the jeweled promise of forever.

End

#hotaruyuki #stereksanta15 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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krreader · 6 years ago

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GOT7 scenario → fighting with you.

pairing: got7 x reader fandom: got7 warnings: language ; mentions of oral sex genre: angst ; fluff

a/n: you were in time angel haha. I hope you like it and I love you too (masterlist is in my bio)

mark tuan

“I'm asking you for two hours, Mark. Two hours of your time, that's all I want.”

“And I told you before that I can't! It's comeback season, I can't squeeze in two hours. I can barely squeeze in enough time for sleep.”

“But you did have enough time to ask me for a blowjob last night, yeah?” you pushed the plate in front of you away and got up, “My parents have been asking to meet you for months now and you cancel every fucking time. They're finally in town again and what do you do? You cancel. Again.”

And with that, you left.

You were just so frustrated with him. You felt like he didn't want to get to know your family. Like they weren't worthy of his time.

Some of your friends said it might be because you weren't an idol but you quickly shut that down. Mark wasn't like that, he didn't care that you weren't in the industry and he also didn't care that your family wasn't rich or something like that.

But it still bothered you that he always canceled and it did make you insecure.

A week later you were at that restaurant with your parents on your own, upset that Mark wasn't there..

..until.

“Sorry I'm so late,” Mark smiled from ear to ear and extended his hand to your parents, “I'm Mark. (Y/N)'s boyfriend.”

��Oh? (Y/N) told us you couldn't make it?” your father got up and shook his hand, then your mother did the same.

“I have an award show in three hours, so I don't have a lot of time, but..-” he sat down next to you and looked at you with an apologetic smile, “I wanted to finally meet the parents that raised my wonderful girlfriend.”

im jaebum

Of all the men in the world, you never would have assumed Jaebum to be someone to cheat.

Or at least that's what you thought he did.

Media outlets were little bitches and they had snapped pictures of him out and about with another idol girl. And it definitely wasn't you.

“I told you, she's just a friend,” he argued for the fifth time when you wouldn't calm down.

“They said they've been following you for four hours! Four hours, Jaebum and you went into a fucking hotel!” you threw a towel at him, angry tears streaming down your face.

“To have lunch! We only had lunch, I promise you!” he took out his phone, “Here, I'll call her for you so she can tell you herself!”

But you weren't in the mood for yet another lie.

When Jaebum looked up from his phone a moment later, you had already gone.

At first he thought about running after you, but then he decided that it would probably be best to give you some space for now.

And to your surprise, it wasn't him that you got a text from that night, but from the idol girl that he was “supposedly dating”.

“Hey, (Y/N), I hope you're good, haven't seen you in a while. Anyways, JB told me what happened today and I just wanted to tell you that he was telling you the truth. There is really nothing going on between me and him, we're just old friends. In fact, I'm actually dating someone from my company and have been doing so for about six months now. Please don't believe the media on this, they've got it all wrong. Jaebum really is head over heels in love with you and he would never do anything to hurt you. Hope we'll see each other soon. Call me if you need anything.”

You found out later that night that she was telling the truth and really was dating someone from her company.

Maybe you should feel bad for accusing Jaebum of cheating, but the evidence was suffocating.

He didn't hold it against you though, he just hoped that you and him could talk calmly about these things next time.

jackson wang

You always told him that you didn't want to be seen with him in public now that your relationship with Jackson was revealed, but because he's a moron who's in love, he didn't listen.

You were at an award show, backstage, talking to your band members when he stopped by and pressed his lips against yours.

It was only for a moment and then he was gone again, but someone in front of you was recording another idol for a quick interview and had you and him kissing in the background on tape.

They didn't notice it when they uploaded it, but the fans did.

“You can't do these kind of things, we talked about this!” you yelled.

“Oh, so I can't be in love with my girlfriend?!”

“For fuck's sake, Jackson! You know how this business works, this isn't about that!”

The problem was that you were both in bands that were too popular. His fans and your fans were both angry when you had announced your relationship, but it had calmed down after nothing came after that. No photos or anything like that. But now this? A kiss? They hated that. All of them.

“I don't fucking care, okay?!”

This argument was not doing any good for either of you. He was being too stubborn and you didn't have the energy to try and convince him not to do these things anymore, so you decided that it would be better to just go home.

You were just so tired and wanted to sleep more than anything right now.

You heard the door bell ringing when you were already lying under your covers a few hours later and heard one of your band members open it, but not who it was that had come so late.

It was only when your door got opened and someone crawled into bed with you, a strong arm wrapping around you and pulling you against him, that you knew who it was.

“I just want to show everyone that I love you.. why is that so hard for them to accept?”

“Jackson,” you turned around and looked at him through the darkness, “The only person I want you to show that you love me is me. As long as you do that, I'm fine. They don't know and they don't need to know how much we mean to each other. This is for us only.. you and me.”

He waited for a moment, then he repeated, “You and me.”

And guess who made a song with that title only four months later, basically lowkey shading people who hated on you two, but at the same time, telling you how much you meant to him?

Jackson fucking Wang.

park jinyoung

Jinyoung was a very jealous boyfriend, that was something you quickly noticed when you began dating him, but you wouldn't suddenly stop talking to your male friends just because your boyfriend didn't like it.

He had to accept that you had friends with penises and had to trust you.

You trusted him with other girls too after all, didn't you?

“He's clearly attracted to you!”

“He's gay, Jinyoung,” you rolled your eyes.

“See, I'm sure he just says that so he can get closer to you.”

“My god, you're delirious. Your jealousy is making you see things.”

“I'm not jealous, I'm just telling you that he's into you and that you should not hang out with him anymore, that's it.”

“You know what? I don't want to have this conversation with you right now. I'm too tired to go over this topic again,” you got up from his bed and grabbed your bag, “I'll go home. Call me when you've calmed down, alright?”

He did. Only an hour later did you get an apologetic call from your boyfriend, telling you exactly what you told him.

That jealousy got the better of him, that he did trust you, he just didn't trust other men and that he loved you too much and was afraid of losing you..

choi youngjae

You thought this would be a date between you and Youngjae, but he had invited his band members to join you yet again.

And you couldn't help but be angry at him at this point since he's been doing this for at least two months now.

Every time you hung out, his band members would be with you. It was like you were in a relationship with all seven of them.

“Why do you not want to be alone with me anymore? Am I making you uncomfortable or something?” you asked with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“I just think it's funnier that way.”

“Oh, so on my own I'm not entertaining enough anymore? You need other people to have fun with, because your girlfriend isn't enough?”

“That's not what I meant, I..- (Y/N), wait!” he ran after you when you walked out of the apartment, grabbing your arm and spinning you around, “I can't tell you, okay?”

“You can't tell me what?!”

“Why I need them with me! I can't tell you, because it's a surprise and.. you need to wait a little longer for it.”

“Wh..- What?! That makes no sense, Youngjae!”

This was not the way he wanted to do it. He wanted to wait for the right moment, but was afraid that he'd spill his secret when he was alone with you or would maybe just do it even though he had this entire ordeal planned out. So the others agreed to be with him for the next weeks to stop him from doing something he shouldn't be doing yet.

But now they weren't here and he felt like if he wasn't honest with you right now, you'd really think you weren't enough anymore, when in reality it was the complete opposite.

“This isn't romantic at all,” he muttered under his breath when he fumbled around in his jacket before pulling out a ring box, “I wanted to fly to Hawaii with you and then propose on the last day with the sunset behind us and then I would have sung a song and..-”

He looked so disappointed. God, you had just ruined his marriage proposal. Your marriage proposal.

“You.. wanted to ask me to marry you?”

“Yeah,” he opened the box and smiled a little, “Guess I should do it now, huh?”

Well then, maybe Hawaii could be an after engagement trip, if you actually said..-

“Yes!” you beamed when he got down on one knee, “I'm so sorry that I ruined it, but yes! I do!”

That was easy..

bambam

“Do you actually think that I would do that?!”

Someone had leaked personal information about BamBam. Information that only a handful of people knew, you being one of those.

And the most hurtful thing was that the first person he asked wasn't any of them, but his own girlfriend.

“Listen, I just have to make sure.. did you maybe accidentally say something to anyone? I won't be mad if you did, I just need to know..”

“No! I would never say anything you've told me in private to anyone! I'm your fucking girlfriend, BamBam. The one person you should be able to trust! But clearly you don't!”

“I do trust you, it's just that..-”

“No, you don't trust me! Because you're asking me, me out of all the people that could have leaked this,” you were so hurt that you actually started crying, even though you didn't want to.

Embarrassed, you quickly grabbed your coat and shoes and left his apartment, wandering the streets of Seoul on your own and ignoring all his messages and calls.

You didn't talk to him for a week, that's when you finally got the text that he found out who it was. Another idol had accidentally said something to a staff member and the staff member hadn't been able to keep her mouth shut.

And that same night when you came home from work, he was standing in front of your door with a bouquet of flowers, chocolate and an apologetic look.

“I know this won't make up for it, but.. I hope you still like it.”

He was right. You'd be pissed about this for a while and it would take a lot more than chocolate and flowers, but.. it was a start.

kim yugyeom

Was this planned? No, no, it definitely wasn't. Because if it was, you would have picked a better timing. One in the future.

Getting pregnant now was definitely not something either of you had wanted, but it happened and you had to deal with the consequences now, because you would have this baby no matter what.

“How am I supposed to be a dad, (Y/N)?!” Yugyeom yelled, anxiety consuming him at the thought of you being pregnant.

“Listen to me,” you put your hands on either side of his face and made him look directly into your eyes, “Every single father out there is nervous and afraid when they find out that they will have a baby. Some more than others. What you're feeling is completely normal, but it will pass, Yugyeom. We will figure out how we can deal with this as long as we're together.”

“But I don't want this! I can't have a baby!” he pushed your hands away and turned around so his back was facing you, his hands brushing over his face, “I can't do this.”

You waited for a moment, took three deep breaths before saying: “I will have this baby. What you do is your business. If you hate the idea of this child so much, then I will raise it on my own and you don't have to see either of us ever again.”

But that wasn't what he wanted either. He didn't want to lose you, it was just that this entire thing scared him so much that his brain was absolutely dead right now.

However, before he could say anything else, he heard the front door open and close.

You must have left.

“No, no, no, wait!” he ran after you in a heartbeat, being able to catch you before you could get into the elevator, “I don't want you to go and I don't want you to do this alone, it's just..- I'm not ready, (Y/N).”

“I don't think anybody is really ready to become parents, Yugyeom. It's a matter of how you deal with it and how much effort you're willing to put in.”

Honestly, he wasn't sure he could handle it well and with his schedule, he wasn't sure he could put any effort in it.

But he did.

Over the course of the next eight months, Yugyeom read as many parenting books as he could. During flights, during breaks of their MV shootings or at dance practices, at award shows when he was in the make-up chair..

He prepared himself as much as he could, but he still didn't feel like it was enough.

The only thing that made him feel less shitty was the fact that you felt the same way.

And that showed him that you really were in this together. No matter what would happen, you would deal with it together.

Like you always did.

#got7 imagine #got7 reaction #got7 x reader #got7 #kpop #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #reader #requests

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winterrs-child · 5 years ago

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What's Going On?

(honestly the title is my mood 24/7. i'll probably end up changing it bc it's terrible and i had to come up with it at a dudebro party. ((where i am rn)) so yeah!! enjoy this really short chapter... i ended up scrapping all of the stuff i had written before and started anew! :D)

Peter knew he shouldn't have been there. If May found out, she'd have a fit. And an angry aunt was not something he wanted to deal with right then. But today was Tuesday, which meant he was supposed to stay with Tony until dark, although his mentor had canceled last minute due to a meeting in Arizona and Peter was left to entertain himself until May got back from work. So, he had picked up a stray spray paint can and was working on the mural he'd started a week ago. It wasn't anything really detailed, but it was almost finished and he was actually proud of his art. He had spent nights thinking and rethinking his idea, designing every detail and once he was finally satisfied, he began to slip away to the park every night. If May noticed anything she didn't mention it, and Peter was relieved. He didn't enjoy the idea of lying to his aunt. He already had to bend the truth for Spiderman, and he didn't know if he could handle something else.

Speaking of angry May, it was getting dark. He'd have to pack up and head home soon or she would ask questions that he really didn't want to answer. He muttered something under his breath — probably an Italian curse — and began to shove the cans in his bag.

Harley wouldn't be able to stop himself. He knew that much from his constant parkour and he felt strangely calm as he plummeted to the ground. He could hear his friends laughing at him and he bit his tongue to keep from swearing at them. He would have probably done the same thing, after all.

Mom wouldn't care if he came home with a few broken bones. She would pay the hospital fines and go back to drinking with her buddies, completely unconcerned by the well-being of her son. Well, you couldn't expect a single mom to do all of the work for her son. At least, that's what she had said before leaving him for yet another day with her drunk friends.

He had been so occupied with his thoughts that Harley hadn't noticed the boy directly under him, and they both crashed to the ground. He didn't think he had broken anything, but the boy he had landed on might be a different story.

"You alright?" He asked, scrambling to his feet and reaching down a hand. The least he could do was help.

"Y-yeah." The kid groaned, accepting Harley's help and standing up. "Don't think you broke anything, just now. Hopefully." He grinned and brushed his hair back from his forehead, shifting the bag that was still firmly on his shoulder. "I'm Peter, by the way. Peter Parker."

"Harley." He smiled awkwardly and they stood there for a second before he came to his senses. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I literally just squashed you like a spider and I didn't even apologize! Please don't, like, sue me or anything. If you want to bring someone to court, find my dad." He cringed as he realized what he had said and there was another short pause as he struggled to find something to say.

"It's fine," Peter eventually said. "Don't worry about it. It was a worthy cause, you know? If I hadn't been there to cushion your fall you would've… I dunno… splatted?"

Harley let out a weird snort and bit back a laugh. "Yeah. Splatted. Nice." He paused, glancing up at the building where his friends had been less than two minutes ago. Either they were coming down to get him or they had left altogether, and honestly, Harley suspected the latter. "Uh, Peter. I have to get going—" Lie. "—my mom will get really mad if I'm out past sundown—" Lie. "—and I'll probably get grounded." Lie. "Sorry about almost killing you, anyway."

Peter grinned. "I wasn't even close to dying, man. You're lighter than a feather!" He paused before going on, "why were you falling from a building in the first place?"

"I wouldn't have been!" Harley felt his face go red — though he didn't know why — and he stuttered over his next few words. “I was doing parkour, and — well, I don’t usually fall, but — but one of my friends pushed me before I was ready and then I was — I was falling and… yeah.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’m pretty good at keeping my balance, generally. Don’t know how I let an idiot like him get the best of me."

Peter chuckled and clapped Harley on the shoulder, startling the other boy. "Don't worry about it. Besides, you said you had to go? I do, too. My aunt will ground me forever if I'm out later than my curfew. See you around?"

It wasn't likely that they'd meet again; they both knew it. But that didn't stop Harley from firmly shaking Peter's hand and beaming, "yeah! 'Course!" The boys smiled at each other one last time and separated ways, Peter hitching his bag further up on his shoulder and Harley collecting his skateboard and water bottle from the far side of the park. Sure enough, his friends' things were gone.

They'd left him once again.

He wasn't mad, necessarily. They had done this before and it was sort of expected by this point, but still… it was annoying. He didn't like walking home alone, especially at night. It wasn't that he was necessarily afraid of the dark. He just… didn't really like the way people moved, the way they stared. Maybe he could get home before nightfall if he ran. Hopefully, his lungs could keep up with his legs.

It always helped if he had someone to call, to text, to talk to as he went home. Someone to ground him and help him feel safer. Someone that could call the cops if anything happened. Not that anything ever had — Harley had been very safe his entire life. He just… didn’t like the dark. Never had, never would

For whatever reason, his mind strayed to Peter. The boy he had landed on (but somehow hadn't broken), who had said everything was fine when it couldn't have been. Harley was easily close to two hundred pounds of muscle, and Peter was probably half that. Kid was tiny. There was no way he was as fine as he seemed… right?

Peter hiked his backpack up again and started home, walking with an ease he could’ve only picked up from Tony. In fact, he’d picked up a lot of habits from his mentor. Not eating, not sleeping, spending hours without looking up from his work, and the same dark humor they often found themselves using in the labs.

“You’re turning into a mini Stark,” May had said once, “he’s corrupting my baby.”

At the time, Peter had sunk further down into his chair and groaned, “May!” He’d felt his cheeks grow red and he buried his face in his arms. So desperately he wanted her to stop, to treat him like a grown-up. But then, but then, Tony Stark came into his life.

And the teasing just got worse.

Now there were two people that wanted to embarrass him, and he loved them more than anything.

Is this what it’s like to have divorced parents? He thought, then, is this what it’s like to have parents?

He’d never really thought of May as a mom. She was his aunt, his aunt May, and she had been kind to raise him. But she wasn’t his mom. She hadn’t carried him for nine months, gone through the pain of childbirth, hadn’t nursed him as a baby. Because that was something his mother did, something Elizabeth Parker had done for him.

Likewise, Tony wasn't his dad. Hell, they hadn't even known each other for more than two years! Tony was definitely not dad material, though it didn't really matter — at least, not when they were in the lab together, laughing and talking and building the most random thing they could think of. Not when he came to Peter's presentations, made sure Peter's suit was near indestructible, came to Peter's — oh god. Tony Stark was his dad. Tony was his fucking —

He shook his head. It wasn’t doing him any good to think about this, especially not right before he was supposed to call Tony. He couldn’t — he didn’t really want to slip up and call his mentor “dad,” because, at this point, he didn’t think he could stand any more embarrassment from either adult.

It seemed like hours before he slunk into the apartment, dropping his bag on the couch and unplugging his phone — thank god he hadn’t brought it with him, or it probably would have been broken, and Peter didn’t want to bother Tony about another new cell; it would be the third one that year, and he wasn’t keen on using all of Tony’s supplies.

“Hey, kid!” The words startled Peter out of his thoughts and he grinned, rolling onto his back. “How’s your day been? I’m sorry about the meeting, by the way.”

“I know, Mr. Stark. This is about the thousandth time you’ve apologized, and I get it. I went to the park, mainly. This kid almost crushed me, but it’s all good. Thanks to my super-healing, I was fine before he could even stand up.”

“Oh? How, exactly, did he almost crush you?”

Come to think of it, why was Harley parkour-ing from so high? Wasn’t it dangerous? Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. He said something about parkour but I don’t know much more than that. He was really nice, and seemed very worried about me. Didn’t really believe that I was fine.”

He could almost imagine Tony’s brow creasing as he listened. “Did you get a name? Maybe I’ll reach out to his parents. They can’t possibly know that their son is doing this. It’s not safe at all!”

“It’s fine, Mr. Stark, really. Listen, my day's been pretty boring. What's happening in Arizona?"

"You wouldn't believe it." Tony's voice sounded strained over the phone, but Peter assumed it was just static. "Honestly, Pete. I still don't believe it myself."

#harley keener #peter parker #tw: alchohol mention #kind of a fluffy chapter #also very shitty #<3 #enjoy!

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endless-vall · 7 years ago

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Valentine’s day - Zig x Mc fanfic

Summary: With Valentine’s Day arriving in such a busy time in Vall’s life, will it be a brilliant success or a horrendous disaster? Author’s note: So this is the first time I’ve written for Zig x MC. I’ve shipped my MC with Zig from the moment he first appeared on our screen. My MC was dating James at the time, and had a brief fling with Chris... But I’ve never really connected to TF’s LI. Until Zig. 🤤😍 I just love him so much, and it’s funny since I’ve written fanfics for almost every TF/TS LI there is, besides the one I’m romancing, LOL So.... Here you finally go! I know it’s not Valentine’s Day yet, but it’s just around the corner, so i’ve figured, why the hell not? Hope you enjoy! 😄

"I don't want anything big, okay?" Vall's eyes sparkled, as she looked up at Zig. They were cuddling in her bed. Zig was spending a lot of time in their house lately, which Vall basically adored. She was so in-love with the man. It was nearly impossible. Zig blinked at her with a sleepy gaze, probably not following on what she was talking about. Vall sent an apologetic, ingenuous look his way. "For Valentine's, I mean." She chuckled, clarifying herself. It's their first Valentine together. "Oh."

"No no I don't mean it like that. I'm sorry if you already planned something. Did you...?" She furrowed her eyebrows. She'd hate to make him cancel his plans... But she had a lot of catching up to do. "I mean... Not really. There's still a few weeks until Valentine's. Don't worry. It's not anything I can't postpone to later." He assured her. Vall sighed in relief. "It's just that..." She bit at her lower lip. "With the whole thing with the house, I haven't been writing ANYTHING for the newspaper. For weeks!" She plumps into the side of her bed, watching the white ceiling. "And while I still managed to pass all my classes for the first quarter, It was barely by a scratch. I really need to focus right now. And after talking to Colin Harper I've really been thinking of starting my own, new novel and-" "Hey, hey, it's okay..." Zig turns around, and watches her, a bit amusingly. "Shhh... Just... Relax, baby..." He caresses her cheek. Zig's touch is soothing and Vall just closes her eyes, leaning into his touch. "I get it." His voice continues talking, as Vall sinks into bliss. With Zig... She always feels... Content. "You really busy right now and there's a lot of things going on... It's okay to be under pressure and if you want to just spend Valentine's Day in a relaxing afternoon date, that's more than fine with me." Zig assures her. Vall reopens her eyes. "Really?" She's almost teary-eyes by now. Her friends always did make fun of her getting emotional easily, but it wasn't about that. It was about someone finally validating her hard work. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" Was all she could come up with. Zig let out a half-chuckle, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. "I'm asking myself the same question every day." He winks at her, and pulls her back on top of him. They fall asleep smiling, content, in the arms of each other.

As the few weeks separating them from Valentine's day pass, Vall manages to catch up with her schoolwork, her paperwork articles, and even come up with an idea for a present for Zig. Or even... Two ideas. Zig enthuses and encourages her after hearing about her thoughts of starting a new novel. "That's so exciting!" He rubs her shoulders as nothing comes to her mind... But she promises to keep trying. She wants her first book be a tribute as well as a farewell for Vasquez. She'd always think about him, in her career life but also her personal, he was an important figure in her freshman year of college and helped her shape herself to who she wanted to be, as well as push her to aspire to be better. But... Nothing seems to be worthy enough. Kind of like James not knowing what to write in the special notebook Vasquez left for him. Suddenly... She could really identify. Until... An idea popped into her mind. Just the night before Valentine Day’s itself...

She goes through her classes for the day in quick motion. She didn't sleep much the day before it... being busy writing... But somehow, she wasn't exhausted at all. She was excited, for the evening. She gets back to their house, quickly passing through Zach, Chris and Becca. "What's with her?" Chris questions, at her eagerness. "Someone's got a date." Becca raises her eyebrows up and down, with a devilish grin. Vall nods and blushes, as she turns to her room. Everything's got to be perfect. She tells herself, only to stop and scowl for a moment. She's the one who told Zig not to go big with this Valentine gesture. Why was she so worked up about it now? Shaking her head to herself, she reminded herself that no matter what'll happen, their evening will be perfect. Because they'll spend it together. She turns on her printer, prints a few pages, and places them into a folder. She puts the folder with the other present she got for Zig, and turns to her closet. "A cheeky pink dress is perfect for Valentine's, right?" She rhetorically questions herself, smiling. "It sure is." She doesn't expect to hear any response, but it comes. Becca pushes open her door, and strides into her room. "But certainly not that one." Becca points to the dress into Vall's hands. "Excuse me?" Vall blinks at her. She knows Becca means well, at least now - more then in the past - but was that comment really necessary? Becca giggles for a moment, at the sight of Vall being baffled. "Anyway, the dress you're holding is cute. But you wanna look fabulous. Here, take this." She practically throws a dress at Vall. Vall examines it. The dress Becca threw her way is defiantly fancier... But is it really what she's looking for? She asked Zig to do something simple for this event, and dressing in that dress could confuse him. "I'm not sure..." She bites her lip, as she raises her eyes back to Becca. "Trust me." Becca gives no mercy, and before Vall knows is, she's wearing the dress Becca threw at her, and standing in front of her mirror. "See? You're gorgeous. 10/10 Zig approved." Becca comments, as Vall spins around. The skirt of the dress following her motions. She turns back to Becca. "You're right, thank you, Becca. Though you got one thing wrong there." Vall comments. "What is it? I'm never wrong." Becca questions. "Zig would approve only 9/10 of it. Since the thing he likes me the most to wear is actually nothing at all." Both burst into laughter at Vall's comments. "Touche." Becca agrees, in defeat. "Why do you care so much what I wear, anyway?" Vall suddenly suspects, raising one eyebrow at Becca. "Uhhh... Duh! The fact I don't have a date for Valentine's doesn't mean I can't enjoy the perks of it. And dressing up is defiantly a perk." Becca blows a kiss in the air, and Vall chuckles again. "Besides, I'm adapting to your approach." Becca gets ready to leave the room. "What do you mean?" Vall isn't following. "Let's just say i'm doing a favor for a... Friend." Becca shrugs, and refuses to say more. "Anyway, we cleared up the living room, for you two, and Kaitlyn's just about to go out to meet with Annisa. So have fun, you two!" And with that, Becca runs off. What are they up to...? As she walked out of her room, fully ready and with her gifts in her hands, she bumped into Zig. “Oh! You’re already here!” She exclaimed, running over to him and attacking him with a kiss. “Why didn’t you say so?” She asked, briefly, as she set down on the table her presents. “I just got here,” Zig chuckled. “I’m making hot cocoa, you want some?” He added, looking her up and down. “Obviously!” She’d never say ‘no’ to hot cocoa. Never. It looked as if he approved of her choice of dress, but also... Like he already seen it. What was he and Becca conspiring on? She raised an eyebrow as she followed him to their kitchen. She admired him too. He was wearing a black suit, that looked as if it was sewn especially for him. Every little detail carefully tailored. Suddenly she got why Becca insisted on classing it up. “Zig?” Vall asked, as her handsome barista skillfully poured the both of them two big cups of cocoa. “Mmhm?” He made a wondering sound, as he handed her her cup. “Did you plan something fancy?” Her tone was honest, and wondering. “Oh, right. You’re probably wondering.” Zig just smirked, as he headed back to the living room. “I though we said nothing big this Valentine. It’s not a ‘go big or go home’ situation. You already are my present-” She started protesting. Yes, eventually she came up with a nice surprise too, but it wasn’t anything flashy. And if Zig did do some grand gesture for their Valentine, she’d feel as if she didn’t do enough. “Do you trust me?” He suddenly asked, cutting her short. “Well, sure, but-” “No buts.” Vall rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. She earned a snort and a laugh in return from Zig, and they settled on the couch together. Cuddling closer to each other, with some music in the background and hot cocoa in their hands. This was perfect... She thought. Vall leans her head against Zig’s shoulder. “I got something for you.” Zig tells her. She opens her eyes again. “Me too.” She smiles. Both raise their bags and exchange it. Vall hands him the gift bag, holding the folder still behind. Zig gives her a box that resembles a jewelry box, and Vall wonders what it is. Both go through unwrapping their gifts, and sigh in bliss when they see the contents of the boxes. “I can’t believe you remembered!” Vall exclaimed, as she opens up the jewelry box to reveal a beautiful, small, silver caged-heart necklace, with a pearl inside of it. Vall was looking at one similar to this in their road trip to the Aurora festival. This one, though, was even prettier. She didn’t even look at the necklace for too long, before dropping it, but apparently Zig noticed. Zig flashed a smile. “I’m glad you like it.” He told her, as he helped her put the necklace on. It went surprisingly well with her dress, as if it was carefully chosen. “Now open yours.” Vall almost jumped in her seat. She had his gift costume-made especially for him. Zig nods and finally opens his box. Inside he finds a coffee-cup looking thermos with ‘Vall’ and ‘Zig’ written on it in a fancy font, and a photo of them at the top. “Woah! This photo was taken even before we started dating...” Zig looks carefully at the photo. It’s in the coffee shop where he worked in, and was taken by Kaitlyn, who was encouraging Vall at the time to hit on him. Vall was just out of a long-term relationship with James, and wasn’t sure Zig was what she needed. How wrong she was. And how thankful for Kaitlyn, too. “I just wanted you to know how much you meant for me, from the moment we met. We had this special connection, right away... Besides, I’ll never look at coffee the same way. Now, It always makes me think of you, and that always makes me happy.” She shrugs. It’s no silver necklace, but her sentimental value is high too. And they haven’t talked yet on her other surprise... “Vall...” Zig barely holds himself before pulling her into a passionate kiss. She kisses back, wrapping her hands around his neck. “I take that you like it?” She questions, as they - barely - break apart. “I love it.” They share a smile, and kiss again. It’s just a brief touch of their lips, but it sends shivers down Vall’s spine. Kisses with Zig tend to do that to her. “I do have another surprise for you, though.” Zig mentions. Vall blinks at him. “Me too.” She admits. They both share a nervous chuckle. They both promised not to over-do it, and yet... Both gathered up not one, but two presents for each other. “You go first.” Zig gestures, as the gentleman he is. “Okay.” Vall nods, suddenly feeling nervous. She knows she shouldn’t be nervous about it... But the idea is tempting and she’d be ecstatic if Zig agrees. “So...” She turns and takes out the folder she hided earlier. “I’ve finally been able to come up with an idea for my new novel... So my surprise if more of a... Ask for permission.” She admits, handing the folder to Zig’s hands. “What do you mean?” He asks, opening the folder slowly. Vall just makes a vague gesture and lets him read the few pages she printed out earlier. Zig looks through the pages, reading carefully. All while the smile doesn’t fall from his face. The contrary, it only grows. “Let me guess... Desmond and Bertene are going to end up falling in love?” Zig asks after he finishes reading the first few pages of her book. “How did you know?” She asks, as if she’s teasing. “Because Bertene reminds me a lot of you... And I think Desmond is inspired by me.” He rests his forehead over Vall’s. “It’s perfect.” He tells her. Vall took the liberty to work like Vasquez taught her. To write from personal experience. Though, she didn’t do it as obvious as he did, this time... “So you like it? Can I continue writing this book, with Desmond being based on you?” She asks, hopeful in her eyes. Zig laughs out. “Sure.” He tells her, wrapping a hand over her shoulders. “Though you give me much more credit then I deserve.” “Well, I know you’ve never fought a real dragon in your life, but this book IS set in medieval times. I’m pretty sure that if I ever needed to be saved from the arms of a ruthless dragon, I can count of you to come in and sweep me away,” All the nervousness Vall was feeling prior to Zig reading her draft vanished away, getting replaced by a warm feeling in her chest. “Let’s be real here, Vall. You would’ve probably convinced the dragon to release you all by yourself, with your kindness and compassion.” Zig pushes lightly at her ribs, and Vall bursts into laughter. “That’s an idea. Maybe I’ll add it in the story later.” Vall plants a kiss over Zig’s cheek. “Any way, I feel like Bertene and Desmond complete each other, and this is how I feel when I’m with you.” She smiles, and Zig’s eyes sparkle. “Vall... I love you.” They haven’t said it yet, but it was somehow obvious. To the both of them... And yet, hearing it out loud, for the first time... “I love you too.” They both fall into bliss. After putting aside the draft for the book, and finishing their cocoa. “Are you ready for your surprise?” Zig asks. “Yes.” Vall’s not worried anymore, that Zig pulled off something too big. She knows he’d do it just in the right amount. “I booked some reservation for us. It’s to this nice Italian restaurant we noticed a few weeks ago.” Zig tells her, watching her closely. “Okay....?” She waits for the catch. “I booked a table for 6.” He bites at his lower lip, and Vall’s eyes shoot wide open. “6?” She asks, confused. “My mom and my sisters are coming, too. Is that okay?--” “Of course!!! Oh my god... I’m finally going to meet your family?” Vall can’t suppress the huge grin forming over her lips right now. “Yes,” Zig smiles, relived Vall likes the idea. “Yes!!! Finally!” Vall jumps over to his lap, making him fall over the couch. All the while Zig can’t stop laughing. “Well, I’m glad you’re excited to meet them. They’ve been dying to meet you, too.” He tells when he finally calms down. Vall’s still smiling, when she gets up and offers her hand. “Well then, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” Zig stands up, taking Vall’s hand in his. “You’re right. Let’s go?” “Lead the way.”

#playchoices #zig ortega #zig x mc #playchoices fanfic #the sophomore #the freshman #zigmund ortega #zig #TS #TF #fanfic #my writing

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s-jatpfic · 4 years ago

Text

Green (New Years Eve and love confessions)

Alex x Reggie, Luke x Bobby

Green is some kind of separate reality focusing on Reggie x Alex in a love is overrated let’s just vibe way. The stories work perfectly fine without each other and every single one can be read as a oneshot, yet there is a storyline visible.

this part: is part of the storyline

moodboard, playlist

3280 words

warnings: underage drinking, underage smoking, being drunk (kinda), jealousy, a few swear words, message me if you think i should add something else

———

It’s December 31 and the boys have zero to do. They actually should be at soundcheck for a small pre-midnight gig but the promoter of the club found out that Sunset Curve is still underage and that on New Year‘s Eve could get him in major trouble, so the gig got canceled last minute and now the band hangs in the garage super unmotivated. Alex behind his drumkid but more of gently brushing the drums with his sticks than actually smashing them the way it’s supposed to be, Reggie laying on the couch, strumming his bass which makes obnoxious noises, Luke angerly scribbling in his songbook but crossing out every word he wrote and Bobby the only one who isn’t super depressed about it, watching the other ones going insane.

“Guys c‘mon. I know this sucks. We don’t have money and we live in a garage. Clearly not the optimum. But we can’t change anything about that now, so get your shit together and get over it. This won’t be the last time we get rejected that doesn’t make us any less worthy okay? We’re still Sunset Curve. We still can reach our dreams. This club was stupid anyway, tomorrow is a new day, a new year and a new chance. So snap out of it and let us clink our glasses. It’s New Year‘s Eve. There’s no time for being sad now”

With that, Bobby grabs himself a can of beer out of the fridge and throws one at Reggie. For the boys it’s Reggie and Bobby drinking alcohol only, just as they have a smoke before their gigs together at some point of the evening they always end up with a cup of beer. Although Alex indeed was drunk a lot the past couple of months while his late night rendezvous with Reggie, this was a secret between him and Reggie and him and Reggie only. Luke is the only one in the band that has never and without lying about it like some blond haired, pink hoodie wearing other band member, just had a sip of alcohol yet in his life but he was ready for his first beer now. Alex shrugs just thinking about this bitterly brew. He once tried it with Reggie and almost felt like vomiting. Beer wasn’t his thing, rosé was but wine was something Reggie really couldn’t stand, so they either bought separate drinks or agreed on stronger things. Whiskey was something they both enjoy and they both really had a thing for gin.

“I’ll stick with water for now, maybe switch to beer when the evening goes on” Alex answers Luke as he asks him if he wants one as well, knowing perfectly fine he’ll never in a million years just sniff a beer.

“I bought wine as well. Just in case someone feels like it”

Alex knows Reggie is talking about him just with the way he stretches out the ‘someone’ and Alex tries to hide his excitement. It isn’t only his obsession for wine that causes Alex mood turning better, it was mostly the fact that Reggie, the boy he fell in love with to add, though about him while buying their drinks. It doesn’t seem like a lot but for Alex it feels like a lot since they still never openly addressed what they are and it doesn’t seem like Reggie wants to change something about that.

“Don’t want to disappoint you with being the sober one” With that Alex gets up his stool, grabs himself the green bottle of white liquid and ends up sitting across Bobby and Luke on the floor, Reggie joining them after putting away his bass.

“Cheers to 1995. This is gonna be our year”

As they all start drinking, Alex couldn’t not grin about Lukes grossed out facial expressions when gulping down his beer. Maybe he turns tipsy enough today to share his wine but for now he wants to see Luke suffering for a little longer. He sure will continue on drinking beer, he has too much pride to admit this tastes disgusting.

It is visible for everyone in the room that Luke doesn’t enjoy his beer at all but they all have much more fun laughing about him than actually offering him something else, so while the boys chatter there is always at least one of them having to hide a suppressed giggle every time Luke brings the can to his lips.

“Thanks for the wine or I’d be looking like Luke now, if not even worse” Alex whispers at Reggie, always making sure the other two are distracted enough with themselves or their alcohol.

“You always had weird taste A. You like me though” Reggie giggles as an answer causing Alex to roll of his eyes. This was a bad joke, but Alex can’t deny it. He likes Reggie, a little bit more than he should, and his bad jokes might be another reason why.

“Here, try this” Alex changes the topic by talking to Luke and handing him his wine. Luke inspects the green bottle of wine sceptical, not sure if this is a nice offer or if Alex has a ulterior motive but he can’t find something odd about it so he ends up trying and actually liking what’s inside.

There’s not even half of the bottle left and Reggie and Bobby are already at there second beer and while neither those two nor Alex feels the alcohol in their bodies, Luke already starts getting jittery so Alex decides it’s a good call if Luke is left with the rest of his wine whereas he gets himself a new one and grabs a beer for Reggie as well when he’s up anyway.

Maybe his body doesn’t feel the alcohol but his mind starts getting thoughts that his sober brain would never have. Luke and Bobby across them all cozy and cuddled up as the good couple they are and he has to be two feet apart from Reggie.

It is depressing and he feels bad for being jealous at his best friends but he just can’t help it. They were never too much into PDA, it almost was as if they are nothing more than the best friends the four of them are but now that Luke is drunk, he gets all touchy and it starts to annoy Alex how happy they seem and how they stare into the other ones eyes just right before their kisses. How it’s always Bobbys look drifting down to Lukes lips first, yet it’s always Lukes lips moving forward to actually touch Bobbys and how they can’t stop smiling at each other. Maybe Alex eyes them up a little bit to intense but what else shall he do, sit there and watch them being in the happy relationship he wants to have with Reggie? Sure what they have, the hiding and sneaking around, is something Alex wouldn’t want to trait in for anything, but Bobby and Luke are their best friends, why can’t they at least know about how happy Reggie makes him? Or watch them being head over heals for one other? Is this really too much to ask? And without realizing it, Alex freshly opened bottle of wine is gone in almost one go, gaining all the lads attention but no one dares to say a word about it. If Alex goes full drunk then he should. The boys are a safe space so if he wants to get pass out befuddled, then that’s fine with them. Little do Bobby and Luke know that besides Alex look, he isn’t light weighted. A bottle of wine won’t kill him. He just hopes to get those murdering thoughts out of his brain.

They make him feel like his throat is drying out – the wine not helping with it – and his heart stops beating.

Intoxicated by the wine he decided it’s now a good idea to tease Reggie. If Reggie isn’t gonna give him attention on his own, maybe Alex has to give his destiny a little rush.

“Do y’all remember last New Years as you dared me to kiss Luke? Bet Reggie still thinks I have a crush on Luke since I came out just two weeks after that. He was so sure I realized I like boys while that kiss and honestly, I can’t blame you, Luke is a really good kisser” Although the first part of his sentence is dedicated to the group, it’s pretty obvious that he’s talking directly to Reggie with the last part and Bobbys “can’t disagree with you” isn’t really helping curbing Reggies anger that slowly boils up inside of him with the thought of sharing Alex. But Reggie isn’t stupid, he knows what game Alex starts playing but this is a game for two.

“Bobby you’re in for a cigarette? I think those two could need some privacy” Reggie says, winking at Alex.

Oh the privacy part, no that’s not what’s triggering Alex, it’s the cigarette. Reggie knows Alex is only waiting for him to come up with an excuse so they can have a smoke together without the rest of the band noticing they do indeed have three smoking members and not just the two everyone expects.

So with Bobby and Reggie leaving for a cigarette or two, Alex gets up as well grabs a mixtape he knows Luke will not be able to resist dancing to and will use that for his benefits. If Reggie wants to play, Alex is going to win.

He takes of his hoodie, not only to rag Reggie, but it’s really getting hot in here due to the alcohol and also the tension between him and Reggie and now only in his shirt, Alex gets Luke stumbling around the the studio and just right on time, he had a lot of cigarettes in the past, he knows how long they last, he grabs Lukes arms and make them, accidentally, lose balance. So the first thing Reggie sees when he’s entering the garage is Luke and Alex laying all cozy and giggly on the ground, Alex hoodie right above his head just as if Luke was the one undressing Alex. Fake blushing, well probably red cheeks due to the amount of wine he had, Alex rolls Luke off his chest. Bobby isn’t as triggered by that as Reggie is although Luke and Bobby are literally in a relationship but Bobby knows his boyfriend and he recognizes the song, no way was there sexual reason behind.

Alex is sure he won this battle especially as the two feet of invisible border between them two disappeared. Reggie now sits there cross crossed, his knee touching Alex leg.

Alex doesn’t know whether to enjoy this little touch or tense up but after Reggie smiles at Alex yielding, he decides it’s gonna be enjoying.

For about and hour there where no further interruptions. Just four best friends having fun, talking about life and drinking some alcohol nothing to worry about. The more alcohol there is, the less tension is between Alex and Reggie, but one is for sure, Reggie wouldn’t let Alex win this. No chance.

“Shit”

Thats Reggie. Before Alex even has the chance to turn his head facing Reggie, Reggie is already standing up, his shirt in his hand. Oh this idiot, accidentally and out of clumsiness, emptied his beer on his shirt. Alex really thought Reggie relinquished but very clearly, he did not.

It’s not as if Alex has a choice, but he just can not not stare at Reggie and Reggie, obviously proud at being better at teasing the other one, stands there, a huge smirk on his face and winks at Alex.

At this point Alex is sure his face is about the same color than Reggies flannel, that’s still tied up around his hips. It’s not as if Alex has never seen Reggie shirtless, but today, in combination with the alcohol and the situation, it isn’t really helpful keeping a clear mind and not immediately pounce on Reggie.

“Don’t you- Don’t you want to put on a, a, a shirt a-a-again?” Alex stutters. He knows that was a very bad try, cause even if Reggie had planed to get dressed again, after seeing how big of an impact this has on Alex, he sure will not.

“Don’t you think it’s hot in here anyway? I think I’ll stay like that a little longer just to cool down. Unless it makes you uncomfortable?”

How does one breath again? Okay no, no matter what Alex tries, there isn’t even enough air in the garage to fill his lungs, that’s for sure. And with Reggie sitting down again, skin to skin with Alex, it just gets worse. Alex feels like his arm is burning where it gets touched by Reggies torso. But he also can’t slide away from Reggie. His body is addicted to Reggies. He is literally craving for his touch but only his arm touching Reggie is more torture than relieve. If Reggie isn’t gonna kiss him in front of the boys, he needs to get the boys away from them. Or get away from the boys. As much as he just wants to sit on the shirtless boys lap, press his lips on the boys ones and kiss him way to unrestrained to make it appropriate in front of their friends, he needs to find a better solution. So Alex activates all his acting skills and pinchly rests his head on Reggies shoulder. The naked skin feels like pinpricks on Alex fiery cheek. Is is to late to take a step back? Alex needs Reggie now, there’s no going back. To relieve his cheek from the lovely pain, he slowly slides his head down, now laying in Reggies lap.

“I feel dizzy”

Luke and Bobby are to busy with themselves to give the guys across them any attention but Alex now being uninhabited in physical touch, his hands on his tummy and saying he doesn’t feel alright? It’s more than enough for Reggie to worry about him.

“I feel like throwing up”

Alex voice is just a humming whisper but loud enough for Reggie to register it. Maybe Alex doesn’t take a bottle of wine as easy as Reggie thought, so Reggie sits Alex up very carefully as if he’d be about to break, gets up and then helping Alex to get on his feet. Alex clings at Reggies body, not able to put just one foot in front of the other one if it wouldn’t be for Reggie and like that, and with Alex hoodie that Reggie quickly picks up the ground, the two boys totter out of the garage.

“Some air will help” Reggie mumbles but as soon as they are out of sight from the other boys, Alex suddenly feels better again.

“You’re right. The cold air does a trick. Feeling so much better now”

Alex eyes are literally glowing and before Reggie realizes what’s happening, their lips touch. Their kiss is desperate and very passionate. The boys not able to tell if their chills are caused by the december areal or the hot atmosphere but one is for sure, it is the most lustfull kiss they ever shared.

Out of breath, Alex rests his forehead at Reggies, not wanting to lose their closeness. He only now notices Reggie wearing his significant pink hoodie.

“Not that I mind but what was that for?”

Reggies words tingle at Alex lips since they are still intimately close but Alex doesn’t mind, he finally got what he desired the whole evening.

“I just can’t resist you”

With this, there was another kiss, however, not even half as venereal as the first one this evening, this one is more of lovingly, amorous. It is soft and sweet yet screaming out how much they love each other.

“We should get back, we don’t want to worry the boys do we?”

Being in trance of the moment, Alex doesn’t realize Reggie pulling away and then grabbing his hand. His body just has to follow his lead.

Back with the couple of the group, there were no more boundaries now. Still not sharing kisses but filling that gap with snuggles and also a few wet neck pecks. Something changed out there and Alex is definitely not the one to mind. He likes this whatever it is and really hopes it’s not just the cause of the alcohol letting Reggie forget about their company.

This thought gets brushed aside as the four of them starts counting down till it’s midnight.

It was Luke starting counting.

The other boys now joining him.

They all start to get twitchy.

Honestly, they don’t even know if they are on time, the clock in the garage was broken for a while now.

But it doesn’t matter as long as the four of them were together.

For a life changing year.

Their big blow up, the bands big blow up.

No more worries.

Silence.

Not spoken out, said only in their minds.

Bobby and Luke having their New Years kiss and Alex and Reggie doing exactly the same. Alex was a little shook at first, but there is no time for doubts. All their emotions condensed into this kiss. Everything they ever wanted to do is now reality.

“I love you Alex”

It was still quite in the garage, too quiet, so Alex just assumed Bobby and Luke are already outside watching the fireworks but even if not, this doesn’t really matter right now. The only thing that matters is Reggie and what he just said. I love you.

“And I wish I could have told you earlier but I was scared. There is no solid excuse for this, I just thought I will not be able to make you permanently happy but everyday I’m just craving to feel your lips on mine and every night I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye. I just hope there will always be one more kiss, one more smile, one more day you make me feel like I belong somewhere”

Alex doesn’t realize there where tears falling down his cheeks but he couldn’t focus on them anyway. Reggies words are honey fixing his broken soul. Although he never thought he’d hear something like that, he also doesn’t want Reggie to stop.

“As things at home- as things with my parents got worse, you were the only reason I wanted to get out of my bed. Everytime I see you chatting with someone in the schools hallway I couldn’t wait for the night to come so I could be the one you ramble to about banalities yet I’m listening to every word you say cause when the words come out of your mouth, they are automatically special for me. You’re the only one that makes me feel alive. I’m not drowning in my own shadows anymore, and that’s only thanks to you. I am really, super fucking in love with you A and I hope that we maybe can show this love to the world.”

Alex is too overwhelmed to add something, he just osculates their lips again, the biggest smile on his face.

“Wanna go outside watching the fireworks with the boys?”

With that they get up, their hands intertwined and neither of them able to drop their smile. They both are happy, genuinely happy and no one could take that away from them.

“I love you too, Reg”

Green fireworks lighting up the sky.

~franky. can y’all tell i never was in love lol? cause, i don’t know what people do or how they act when they are. every experience i ever made about love is out of 1d fanfiction when bella finally realized that it was niall all along or zayn leaves gigi hadid behind in new york so he could start a new life with liam in la. yeah i got issues lol.

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ainasquill-blog · 7 years ago

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Worth It

Member: Sehun, Baekhyun (side character)

Genre: Angst

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Sehun [22.36]: I just finished practicing. I got somewhere I need to go now. Gonna go back to the dorm right away after. So don't wait for me, kay?

Sehun [22.36]: Nite.

Of course! What did I expect! I scoffed to the side. He must've forgotten again. He's busy anyway! Tears were already stinging the back of my eyes as I stared at plates of food in front of me.

It was always like this. He always forgot our anniversary, let alone the monthsaries or whatever people call it! We had been dating for three years, but it wasn't like this when we first started dating. It wasn't until two years ago when everything started falling into place for him that I started falling out of his life. At least, that was what it looked like to me.

Ever since two years ago, every date planned by me was canceled. Every anniversary planned was canceled. Every single food I cooked to impress him was thrown away. And every single promise he made to make up all the lost times we could've had was either broken again or just simply... forgotten.

But who was I kidding! He is, after all, THE Oh Sehun. The popular idol girls adored.

I did understand his busy schedules and I did not want to force our little dates on him. I also understood why he couldn't go public with our relationship and I honestly agreed because who would want to have her boyfriend's crazy fangirl pulling her hair out. But this was seriously getting too much for my heart to bear. For the past two years, every month I barely see him and he only called when he could find the time (read: almost NEVER). His text messages were getting lesser every passing days and I just didn't know whether I had the strength to continue being in this relationship.

A part of me wanted to give up so many times, but my scarred heart didn't want to let him go because despite it all, I loved him. Truly loved him.

But lately, I kept on questioning myself whether this would all be worth it. Whether I was only holding on to a mere string that was going to snap any time soon. Whether he was even still in love with me.

A drop of tear escaped my eye as I ate alone.

Honestly, I didn't even understand why he wanted to date me in the first place. I was just a fat, short, ugly, useless, insignificant, worthless girl! Why would someone with such godly look as him wanted to date me?

Maybe he just pitied you. A small voice in my head answered me.

Yeah. That was probably right. He must've pitied this girl who had lost her parents and went to the city to look for her brother and stumbled inside his apartment that one winter night. And when it turned out that I was his flatmate's sister, as a good friend of my brother that he was, he started taking care of me too. Out of pity, he must've decided to give me the experience and thrill of having someone like him to be my boyfriend. And now? Now that he had entered the world where he belonged- the world where there are tons of pretty girls surrounding him- he must've gotten tired of even pitying me.

That must be it. He never actually loved me in the first place. . . "That is enough!" Baekhyun, my beloved brother who was now growing two heads- or were there three? Wait, why were there three of him?- growled at me, snatching away the glass of soju from my hand.

"Gimme back my glass!" I slurred and pouted.

"No! What is wrong with you?!" He then shifted his gaze to the guy beside me slash my best friend slash my brother's former classmate who was trying hard to guide me away from the table. "Jin, you know anything?"

Jin shook his head. "She called me with slurry voice. I didn't really hear what she said because I was hurrying here." He hoisted me up on my feet, but I fell to his chest instead, luckily caught by his arms before my butt hit the floor. "But I think it has something to do with Sehun again."

"Sehunnn." My voice broke out, sounding like a sick whale and I felt my cheeks wet.

"Again?" Baekhyun groaned. "What is it this time?"

I only cried harder.

"Uhm... Baek? Can we do the interrogation later?" I can feel Jin struggling to keep me stand and walk- probably because of my goddamn weight too. "I need a little help here."

"You are coming to my place!" He growled at me as he helped Jin.

__________

The next day, I woke up with an enormous throbbing pain in my head. I was disoriented for awhile before I realized I was in Baekhyun's apartment.

After he graduated university and got a job, he left the one he shared with Sehun and I. Of course, he was reluctant to leave me only with Sehun at first. He told me to come with him, but I reasoned that his place would be too far from the cafe where I worked part-time. Plus, Sehun was already my boyfriend. Trusting Sehun wouldn't do anything to me, he finally agreed.

Well, he was right about that. Sehun and I didn't do... that. Honestly, I was grateful he respected me and my dignity. But right now I questioned myself whether it was out of pure respect and love or he was just doing himself a favor. He must've been disgusted with me. I was short, fat, ugly.

Yes, that must be it. He never loved me.

The thought sank deep in my heart, adding salt to my wound. I couldn't even think straight when Baekhyun was nagging me whilst preparing me the hangover soup.

"I just don't want you to get hurt." He took my hand into his. I could see the worry in his eyes when I lifted mine to his. "You're my one and only sister and I'm tired and hurt of seeing you like this."

I ducked my head. "I know."

__________

I wished I remembered my promise to Baekhyun not to harm myself. But the squeezing pain in my heart was just unbearable.

The rumor of Sehun and unidentified female celebrity dating that I just read last night was spreading like uncontrollable fire. His fangirls were burnt with either excitement or rage. But my heart was burnt to ashes. Everything felt numb when I first read the news. Pictures of him in a black cap with an unrevealed female celebrity in a cap going inside an apartment- that night we were supposed to celebrate our anniversary- raised questions as to who the girl might be.

But I knew who she is.

Wendy. She's the prettiest girl I had come to know. She's thin and had long legs unlike me. She's the most adored singer and she was supposed to be my friend. But I knew now why she was friendly to me. It was because she wanted to take Sehun away from me. And oh how she had succeeded!

Some who had suspected the girl to be her admitted that she was worthy of being Sehun's girlfriend.

I would show my worth. I would show the world that I'm worthy of standing beside Sehun. I would be like her. I would be perfect.

With the last bit of my energy, I forced myself to throw up the little amount of food I just ate.

"What are you doing?!"

Aah. The voice I loved. The voice I barely heard of the past few weeks.

I glanced at Sehun before flushing down whatever I just threw up and weakly stood up. His eyes were wide, almost bulging out of their sockets.

"Well, look who still remember the way home!" I forced myself to smirk as I trudged my way to the sink to cleansed my mouth.

When I looked up from the sink and closed the tab, I found him behind me with eyes scrutinizing my state through the mirror. He placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around to face him.

He cupped my face. His brows were pulled in the middle and his eyes looked over my face. "You're pale." His deadpanned in a husky voice that was dangerously attractive.

Wait, what? I'm supposed to be mad at him here.

"Have you even eaten?" He brushed a hand over my hair. My heart suddenly tingled at his touch and this close distance between us.

This isn't fair! He hurt me, but he's still able to make me feel this blissful.

"You look awful!"

And that did it! He's breaking my heart all over again.

I scoffed to the side and pulled away his hand. "Of course! Because Wendy is way prettier than me, huh?"

"What?!" He furrowed his brows deeper. "What are you talking about? Why are you bringing up Wendy?!"

I rolled my eyes and made my way past him and out of the bathroom with him following behind.

"Ohoho. Protecting her now, huh?" Tears were starting to sting the back of my eyes.

"Hey!" He grabbed my elbow and harshly pulled and turned me around. His eyes bore into mine as soon as I looked up to him. "What is wrong with you?! I was only asking about you!" He pulled me closer to him. "I was worried!"

"Oh wow! You're worried about me now? What about few days ago when we were supposed to celebrate our anniversary? Were you worried about me? Were you even thinking about me? No, you didn't!" I scoffed. "'I got somewhere I need to go'? Ha! You meant 'someone', huh?"

"Wha-" He blinked surprised, but then stopped himself and sighed. "You've seen the rumor, haven't you? I can explain."

"Ha! So it was true!" My heart was breaking even more. "You were with her! You were with Wendy! And on our anniversary! Damn it, you jerk!" I freed myself from him, and felt my cheeks were already wet. Had I been crying this whole time?

"It wasn't like that!" He argued. "It was a goddamn rumor!"

"But you were with her that night, weren't you?" I glared through the tears that was slightly blurring my vision. I was expecting him to deny it, but no. He stayed silent, opening and closing his mouth. My heart was twisted again. "So, you were."

"Yes, I was. Okay?" He paced around and roughly ruffled his hair. "But it wasn't like what you think it is. I was only-"

"I hate you!" I grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it at him. Unfortunately, he dodged it.

"Let me explain!" With two long strides, he was already in front of me again and he grabbed my wrists, bringing them up whilst pulling me closer.

"Let. Me. Go." I struggled to free myself, but his grip was too strong.

"Why don't you even trust me?" I could hear the hurt in his voice, but the pain I felt was far greater.

"Trust? Trust, you say?" I almost spat at him. "How can I trust someone I don't even know anymore! You rarely come home and you barely contacted me! You bailed on every dates we planned! I don't even know whether you're still the same person anymore!"

"THAT IS WHY I'M HERE RIGHT NOW!" He raised his voice. "You KNEW my schedule would prevent us from meeting each other since the day I entered the industry! What is wrong with you right now?! Can't you see that I'm doing this for us?! Stop being such an insecure brat!"

My heart stopped beating for a second at his last words. I could only stare at him with rounded eyes.

His grip around my wrists loosened when he realized what he just said. "I-I-I'm-"

A drop of tear escaped my eye. "Let me go." I didn't even raise my voice to say it. "I don't want to see you now." Lie! "I hate you." Lie!

He slowly let my wrists go. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I-"

"Save it." I raised a hand to stop him. "I hate you!"

Without giving him a second glance, I ran to my room and cried my heart out there

________

Days passed, and we never got to talk through of what happened. If anything, I thought our relationship was getting worse. His messages got lesser to almost none and he still rarely came home. When he did, he always found me in front of the toilet bowl and we always ended up in heated arguments.

The rumor of him and Wendy dating wasn't dying down. In fact, it got hotter, especially with the news of them going to act together in an upcoming drama.

I couldn't understand it. If it were really just a rumor, why the hell didn't he deny it? Why didn't they made any statement regarding that? Why didn't he tell everyone to just stop with the rumor because he already had me?

He knew I was hurting, but he didn't deny any of the rumors. He even agreed to act in the drama.

Yes, I was an insecure brat. But he knew it. He knew my insecurities, yet he kept on leaving scars on me, opening up past wounds.

No. This isn't his fault! This is my fault! I'm always the wrong one. It's my fault to believe that someone like Sehun really loves me. God! Why does this hurt so much?!

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

I was expecting Sehun, but that wasn't his voice. I looked up and saw Jin dropping the grocery bags from his hands. He immediately ran to my side as I was sitting on the floor, curling into a ball. I quickly rolled down the sleeves of my hoodie.

"Give that to me!" He demanded pointing at the cutter I was clutching in one hand.

I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. He gently grabbed my hand and carefully pried the object from it before tossing it elsewhere. I just silently cried when he pulled my other hand and painstakingly rolled up the sleeve. I squeezed my eyes and heard him slightly gasped when he saw the streak marks of red on my arm.

I was expecting him to lash out at me and chastised me over this or threatened to tell Baekhyun about this. But instead, I felt a pair of arms encircling me and pulling me close to warmth. I couldn't hold all the pain and hurt any longer and sobbed in his chest as he stroked my head.

"It's alright." He sounded just as broken as I was. Why so, I didn't know. "Why are you hurting yourself?" He asked, but by the tone of it he wasn't expecting me to answer. And I couldn't even if I wanted to. He gently rubbed my back as he kept on chanting that it was alright.

I know sane people wouldn't do it again. But let's just say I wasn't. Who would be sane when her boyfriend was rumored to be dating someone else and was found by the paparazzi to be kissing the girl he was rumored with? Yes, Sehun kissed her. He kissed Wendy.

One could only imagine the pang my heart was feeling right now when I found the pictures in internet. I wondered whether my heart was still there because I couldn't feel it anymore. It had been crushed to pieces. It probably had turned into debris.

My mind was honestly in a blank after I called Sehun several times, but he didn't pick up. I didn't know what I was thinking. I didn't even know what I felt because everything- even my heart- felt numb. I couldn't feel anything until I felt a slash on my wrist.

I looked down and saw something red on my left wrist while my other hand was holding a knife smeared with of liquid of the same red color. Black spots suddenly blocked my sight and I felt my self falling to the ground when I heard a click at the door. The black spots increased in number and before it could swallow my sight, I heard a voice shouting my name.

Ah. It was the voice I so loved.

__________

Just to be clear, I don't hate Red Velvet's Wendy ^^ This one is requested by my IG friend. And all the characters here are her biases. Since BTS' Jin is my bias too, so I don't see why not include him haha.

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo k #sehun #sehun fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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rationaromanceblog · 5 years ago

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Hurtles through weight loss: Part I

I remember the day it dawned on me that maybe I was going about this weight loss thing all wrong. I was down 20 pounds and coming out of a 2 month long stint of depression. I’d started a job as a sushi chef and it had a promising future. Things were looking up. My appetite was back and I was enjoying the benefits of the job, with a California roll halfway in my mouth a horrifying realization made my blood run cold. I am getting happy again.

This was easily my 10th time going through this pattern. Once I reached a place of contentment, I would go right back to not caring what I weighed. I would gain it back and proceed to hit my ‘low’ point. You know, the highest weight you’ve seen on the scale, the highest pant size you’ve had to buy, or to be shocked by yourself in a picture. Whatever the cold splash of water is this time. The low point wakes you right out of unconsciousness and reminds you to care again. There has to be a way out of this. I thought, fear running through me as I walked off the sushi line to search google for an answer.

At around age 10 I started to suspect something about my body wasn’t quite right. The memory of Alondra and I in the bathroom, stretching (thinking that was how you exercise), fretting that our moms kept comparing us to Ana, our thinner cousin, is my earliest one. “We all eat the same things.” We seemed convinced. “Ana just doesn't finish hers all the time.” I moaned with sadness. Which, by the way, was crazy. A perfectly delicious and unfinished bowl of Coco Puffs just sitting in front of her, and she had no interest? Unimaginable. We were too young to really understand why it mattered, but knew enough to care.

Shopping with my mother became a nightmare of inadequacy. At 11 my cousins and I were preparing for our first communion. A catholic ritual we went to classes for all summer. It ended with a ceremony that required a long white dress. The classes were fun but shopping for the dress on weekends filled me with dread. I don't know what I did so that every dress in the first communion shops refused to fit my round frame, but it must have been very bad based on the frustration on my mom’s face. When Ana and Alondra came with us, Ana seemed to have more fun with it than I did. Ana’s struggled to decide whether it was the style she wanted or not, and I never got to that part. I got stuck at the ‘will this one fit’ part. Eventually we found the appropriate dress in the plus size section at Ross instead. I learned to avoid shopping whenever possible after that.

Once the first communion ended I started drinking Herbalife. We need to do something about this. My mom thought. Herbalife was a popular weight loss (and pyramid scheme) product a few women in my neighborhood sold at the time. As I understood it, it flushed all the fat out of your body if you drank it all the time. It was given to a few kids in the neighborhood. We met before school to take the supplement. A couple of weeks after starting I asked the woman selling it why it wasn’t working. “Well…” She looked at me curiously “are you diet and exercising?” Ha! Of course not. I thought. Why do I need this product if I am going to diet and exercise? I just shrugged and looked away, shy to admit that I didn’t know I was supposed to. My mom decided to stop paying for me to take it a few weeks later. With no impending celebrations or dresses to wear, my weight stop being a main issue of focus.

I was 12 when I had my first binge. My friend and I joined the Girl Scouts for the summer and we joined just in time for cookie selling season. I sold cookies to all of my teachers and neighbors. One of the orders that I made was wrong and the teacher said she didn’t want it, I could have it. My mother rarely allowed candy, chips, or soda in the house. If it was there it was probably because my dad had bought it. I got really excited and stashed the box in my bookbag. I thought about it all day, and when I got home I ran to my room and put it in the closet under my jeans. I waited until I was sure my mom was busy, went into the room and ate the entire box in minutes. I remember feeling like I was getting away with something, and wrong for doing so. I felt utterly out of control. I hated and loved it at the same time.

I knew I was supposed to be getting thinner but felt utterly helpless to do so. I tried not eating, but I loved food so much I always gave up when I got too hungry. Instead I tried eating a saltine and then drinking as much water as I could, so I could feel full. When I got hungry again, I’d eat one saltine and gorge on water. I did this all day long, just peeing constantly. Obviously, this didn’t work but at least I could feel like I was doing something.

My first effective diet happened a few years later at 14. I was poised to turn 15 in March and it was January. As a young hispanic woman, a quinceañera was customary. Unfortunately for me, my mother hated parties. Quinceañeras are usually planned a year in advance so I knew I wouldn’t be getting one. But I hoped, I could at least get something bigger than your normal birthday party. I built up all of my bravery, went into my parents bedroom and dared to ask the question. “Can we plan a small quinceañera?” My mom seemed in a good mood, and she considered it. “I'll tell you what,” she proposed after a long pause “If you agree to lose weight so you can look nice in your dress, we will plan you something.” I was in shock and ectatic. My dream right before my eyes and all I had to do was lose weight or whatever? Done!

I told my best friend about the agreement but she seems dubious. “What’s wrong? This is great! I am getting a party.”

“Sure... but the ‘you having to lose weight’ part is kinda weird. Can we talk to Mrs. Washington?” Mrs. Washignton was our health teacher, she was also a beloved confidant all of the 7th graders went to with their problems. When Vicky and I gave her the run through and Vicky expressed her concern at the agreement, Mrs. Washington seemed perfectly okay. “You can even ask Mr.Washington for help!” She offered cheerfully. Coincidentally, Mrs. Washington’s husband had just been a contestant on the show The Biggest Loser. He became our music teacher the year before but disappeared half of it for the show. I peeked into his classroom after lunch and was shocked by the unrecognizable person in the room. I shook my head, vaguely intimidated, and decided to figure it out on my own.

This time my mom invested in the whole herbalife product line. They had teas, smoothies and a liquid you put into your water. It turned your pee a strange color and odor, proof that it was working, or doing something anyway. Knowing better this time I also started running and eating less. I was 20lbs down by March and was able to make my mother happy when we went dress shopping. My weight loss was greatly celebrated by my family and community of friends too, and getting the party I had been working for was wonderful. I was filled with the feeling that I had accomplished something significant. The party allowed me to feel like a beautiful girl, and losing weight made me feel worthy of the praise and attention. It was amazing. I secretly wished getting good grades matter this much, I was much better at doing that.We ended up having tons of leftover birthday cake, and since I’d already earned my reward what did I really care about being thin? I’m sure I gained half the weight back just on that. It was so yummy, and I could go back to enjoying life.

I noticed that the people around me always seemed to be dieting, being thin was the thing to aim for. I tried to lose weight again a few months later, excited that I finally knew how to and looking forward to the praise I’d get at the end. I managed to get low enough for people to notice, and then feeling good about myself I’d go back to eating like I used to.This was the beginning of a cycle that would continue for years.

In the midst of these cycles I started purging to feel better. I had unintentionally started a deprivation and surplus pattern, I was either dieting or eating everything. Wanting food started to consume me and my thoughts more than ever. I was in the middle of a diet cycle and knew I was suppose to be restricting food but the desire to eat overcame me. I slipped and ate too much. In order to cancel out my mistakes and rid myself of guilt I went into the bathroom and put the end of the toothbrush in my mouth. I filled with relief and the awul deed of over eating was undone. I never considered myself bulimic. I was certain I wouldn’t do it so much it would become a problem. It helped me grasp at a sense of control after I felt utterly out of it. Like a fail safe in my back pocket I promised not to resort to it until my darkest moments, having read all the literature of the extremes bulimia can take.

At 16 I got my heart broken. After that I started a weight loss effort fueled by pain and rejection. Conveniently the heartache resulted in a loss of appetite so I used that to my advantage. I’ll show you! I thought with passion on my runs. You’ll regret rejecting me, and then I will get to reject you! Or in my less angry moments, I will become irresistible and you’ll have no choice but to want me, I’d think as I refused the second helping for dinner. I started in April and by August I was so thin I didn’t recognize myself. There was a strange shock and disconnect that started to accompany my reflection. But also a thrill. That’s me, I did it. The pride of my accomplishment accompanied me everywhere. I never got to show that boy anything ultimately. My family moved to Denver shortly after that. I decided to use my new look to start over around people that knew nothing about me instead. What an amazing opportunity! I get to be a new person. But I didn’t know who I was going to be. At no point did I build any sense of confidence or even identify with my physical self anymore. I never thought much about who I was, just who I was told I should be. My new thinness felt precarious and foreign. Like wearing an uncomfortable outfit and waiting for it to fit. The attention I started to get from guys confused me. I never got attention before. I’d forget they were seeing a version of me I wasn’t used to yet.

I met Daniel during this time. Daniel liked me. But I didn’t like myself yet. Knowing I wasn’t interested in him romantically I dated him anyway. Partially believing I wasn’t capable of attracting anyone else. During the year and a half that we dated I gained all the weight back and probably more. Ultimately feeling much more comfortable as the bigger version of myself I was familiar with. So grateful to Daniel that he didn’t care what I looked like, he just loved me.

Once we broke up I started my routine of dieting again. Most of the time my efforts would start from a dark place; heartache, depression, a sense of hopelessness. I used losing weight to motivate me and give myself something to do, something to strive for, something to look forward to. Like always, things would get better, I would feel good about myself and things would go back to normal. I used food to celebrate my happiness and numb away my pain. I restricted food to give me a sense of control. I never approached weight loss with the mentality of what happens after. Not until the day at my new job when I caught myself entering the cycle again. I felt desperate to get out. On that google search I found many answers. I just needed to start asking the right questions.

#self love #weight loss #growing up #body image #self esteem

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