#clay gets to be the biggest idiot for a change | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

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No thoughts only Princess Bride au where Sam, Dream or Sapnap (honestly any of them can work take your pick of minecraft boy) is Westley and I'm Buttercup -🍉

Oh gosh 🍉 you’re brain is so big!!!! So Imma use Dream because I have ideas….. Did I basically write the movie in this drabble just changing the names? Yes. Do I regret it? Hell no lol. I hope you enjoy!!! (I added a page break because it’s pretty long lol)

So Clay is a farmhand on your father’s farm that you are absolutely infatuated with. He does anything and everything you ask with a small smirk and an “as you wish”. As you spend more time together, you two fall in love. Clay decides that he needs to go across the sea so he can make a fortune before he can marry you. You beg him not to go, because you love him and he loves you too and that was all you need, but he goes anyway. He leaves you with a kiss on your lips and a promise to always come back for you. But he never did come back.

News came back that Clay’s ship was attacked by a powerful pirate that goes by the name Dream. The news broke your heart and you locked yourself in your room and swore you would never love again.

A few years go by and a new King is crowned. King Schlatt bumps into you one day and is stunned by your beauty and immediately declares that you will be his new partner. You try to refuse, but he has none of it. He announces to the kingdom that they will have a new member in the royal family in a few days time. But you knew you would never love Schlatt. After the announcement you went out to clear your mind on a horseback ride. You run into three men who claimed to be lost, and you with your big heart stop to help them but you quickly come to regret it as the biggest and strongest one, grabs you at a pressure point and you pass out.

When you come to, you’re on a boat and the three men are sitting around staring at you. “Oh good. You’re awake!” One of them cheers, eerily cheery for kidnappers. “I was really worried I grabbed the wrong point but you were breathing so it helped me calm down a little bit… I’m Sapnap!” The big guy introduces himself. “Sapnap!” the shortest one hisses out, “you’re not supposed to tell them our names!” “Oops. Sorry George” ‘Sapnap’ apologizes. “SAPNAP!” The one he called George, “Bad tell him that he’s an idiot!” George shrieks, turning to the third man. ‘Bad’ faces palms at the two in front of him. “Great… Just great… You both have literally told them all of our names” And even though you’re in a really bad position, you can’t help but laugh at the idiocracy of the three. “Oh gosh. If this is how you act, the King and his men are definitely going to find you and when he does, you’re going to be in for it” you laugh, rolling your eyes at the three. They seem to take a little bit of offense at what you say, but George and Sapnap begin to squabble with each other and then Bad yells at them to shut up and everything falls silent. At one point, George asks if they’re being followed and while they’re distracted you take the chance and jump over the side of the boat and begin to swim away from them. But then something brushes your leg and you freeze. “There are eels in the water! Deadly eels that are just waiting to eat you,” Bad taunts from the boat and you begin to panic. An eel creeps up beside you and before it can take a bite out of you, you’re pulled back into the boat by the strong hands of Sapnap. “Are you okay?” He asks softly after he’s sure you’re steady in the boat. You can only nod, too scared to speak. “Good… Just don’t do that again,” he scolds gently. And even though these three have kidnapped you, you can’t help but begin to grow a soft spot for the gentle giant.

Turns out you were being followed. Sapnap is forced to carry you three up the cliff as a stranger, wearing a green shirt and a white mask, begins to climb the rope behind you. Bad yells at him to climb faster, which doesn’t help, but you make it to the top before the stranger catches you and Bad cuts the rope. The stranger doesn’t fall though, just continues to climb the mountain. Bad instructs you guys to keep moving but George insists on staying behind to kill the man. Bad rolls his eyes, but let’s him and so you three run away, well Bad and Sapnap run because you’re still being carried by Sapnap.

You three watch as the stranger and George fight beautifully but at the end, the masked man comes out on top, knocking George unconscious and running toward you guys. Bad let’s out a loud yell in frustration and commands Sapnap to give you to him and then demands that Sapnap kill the man by any means necessary. Bad carries you off further down the path before sitting you down and turning to watch the battle between Sapnap and the stranger. He lets out a frustrated yell again as Sapnap is also rendered unconscious. Bad quickly blindfolds you and pulls out his knife and presses it to your throat. “If you take another step closer I’ll kill them!” You hear Bad call out to someone… the stranger. He must not stop moving because the knife gets pressed into your throat further causing you to let out a small gasp and you make an attempt to move away. You listen as the stranger makes a deal with Bad and listen as Bad debates about which cup to drink from. The cup that is laced with the powder that will knock the other unconscious and allow the one that remains awake to get away with you. You listen as Bad toasts and the two drink, and you listen as Bad boasts about being smarter than the other man, only to have his laughter cut short as he falls asleep. The blindfold is removed from your eyes and you meet the beautiful green eyes of the stranger that look very familiar, you don’t get to stare long because he moves away and cuts the binds from your wrists and legs before dragging you away.

After getting a bit away, the man pushes you into a rock and demands that you catch your breath. As you’re seated, you begin to beg with the man, asking him what he wants and that any ransom he asks he will get. The man laughs in your face and mocks you and your ‘love’. You spit at him that you do not love the King and that you have loved more deeply than he could ever understand. The man scoffs and rolls his eyes before grabbing your arm again and running again.

Once again, after a while of running, he forces you to sit and catch your breath once more. This time you confront him about his identity, “I know who you are,” you spit out, seated on the rock, “You’re Dream… admit it” The man smirks and gives you a mock bow, “Sure am Your Highness. What can I do for you?” he asks so cockily. You tell him that he can die a most slow and painful death. Dream lets out another laugh, “And why would you wish such a thing.” “Because you killed my love” He is silent for a second before shrugging, “Maybe… I’ve killed a lot of people. Who was this love of yours?” And you can’t help it, but you begin to describe him. You think of his blonde hair, his emerald green eyes, his kind smile and warm heart… Your Clay. Dream then tells you that he remembers Clay. He remembers killing him and how he didn’t beg or plead, he just accepted it but before he died, he told of you and how you were his everything. But then he got really defensive and began to shout at you, calling you faithless and mocking you for getting engaged to the King. You cannot help but scream at him, “I DIED THAT DAY!” You noticed Schlatt’s horses and claim that Dream can die too for all you care and so you push him as hard as you can down the hill. As he’s falling you hear him call the words that you’re love would always say to you, “As you wish!” Your heart aches and you begin to run toward him, only to trip and fall down the hill to.

Once at the bottom, you lay on the ground, catching your breath. As you do, Clay, his white mask now gone, moves and hovers over you. “Are you okay? Can you move?” But you don’t care about yourself at the moment, “You’re alive” you breathe out, your hand coming up to cup his face. “I told you I would come back, my love. I’m back.” and you just pull him in and press a long and passionate kiss on his lips. Five years of pain and longing and missing your lover pour into the kiss. A warmth that you haven’t felt since you kissed Clay goodbye fills your entire body and causes your toes to curl. “I love you so much” you murmur to him once he pulls back, “I love you too so much more.”

Once you two get up, you run to the fire swap. You’re a little nervous, but you know that Clay will take care of you. You ask Clay what had happened on that ship 5 years ago. Clay begins to tell you the story of how he became Dream as you two practically dance through the fire swamp. It feels so good to be back in Clay’s arms as he twirls you around trees and fire spurts that shoot up from the ground. The warmth flutters in your heart again as Clay tells you that he now plans on retiring since he found you, his true love once again. You two share a sweet moment and another kiss before you make your way through the dangerous swamp. You have some close encounters, but make it out of the swamp safely…. Unfortunately you two are not alone when you exit.

Schlatt meets you on the other side of the swamp and you begin to get surrounded by his men and you knew how this would end. “Promise you won’t hurt him if I come with you!” You shout to your fiance. Schlatt makes this promise and you turn to Clay who is looking at you in the utmost shock, “What?” he whispers. “I died the day you died Clay… I could not handle it if you died again” you whisper back to him, “I know you’ll return to me again one day” and then you’re whisked away by Schlatt back to the castle.

You mope around the castle and Schlatt notices. He blames it on the fact his father is in bad health, who dies later that night, but no one truly believes him. You begin to have nightmares as your and Schlatt’s wedding grows closer. After waking from a particularly terrible one, you run to Schaltt’s office and tell him that you don’t want to marry him, that you want to marry Clay. Schlatt surprisingly agrees, claiming to not wanting to make you unhappy or dead. He agrees to send out a letter to Dream’s ships and if Clay wants you, he can marry you but if he doesn’t to please consider marrying him to killing yourself, to which you agree.

Days go by and you hear nothing, and you walk into his room and he greets you. He tells you of what is going to happen, but he slips up and you find out that he never attempted to contact Clay. So you yell at him, you insult him, and as you tell him that Clay will always come for you because you love each other, you drive him off the metaphorical edge. He very angrily throws you into your room and locks you in there before storming off. You bang and kick at the door, trying to get out but nothing. Finally you settle yourself by the fire and begin to just think of your true love Clay.

The sun sets and you are forced to get ready for a wedding you do not wish to be a part of. Schlatt enters your room and helps you adjust your outfit. You tell him once again that Clay will save you. But you find yourself at the altar listening to a priest who you have to try really hard not to laugh at (I am literally thinking of Quackity just using one of his silly voices just officiating a wedding lol). A commotion begins to happen outside and Schlatt begins to panic silently and you can tell. So you taunt him a bit, but then he demands Quackity to call you married “partner and partner” and then you’re dragged to the honeymoon suite. You can’t help but go dumbly because you’re so shocked at the fact that you just got married to Schlatt and Clay didn’t come to save you. As you’re being escorted to your room, you make the decision that you’re going to do it. If you cannot be with the one you love, you’re going to kill yourself.

You get to the room and pull out the dagger, hold it to your chest, and just as you are about to plunge it into your chest, the sweet voice of your lover calls from behind you, “Are you sure you want to do that, love? I mean I wouldn’t be able to kiss you there if you split your chest open.” You head snaps to the bed to find Clay laying there motionless, but his eyes are trained on you. You throw the dagger on the desk before running over to Clay and throwing yourself down on top of him and kiss him over and over again. “Clay, I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” you apologize after you pull back. His eyebrows raise at the apology, “What have you done now?” “I got married. I didn’t want to, but everything happened so fast that I did.” “It didn’t happen” “Yes it did” “Did you say I do?” “Well no but-” “Then it doesn’t count and you aren’t married. Didn’t say it, didn’t do it… Wouldn’t you say so your highness.” Clay’s eyes drift to the doorway causing yours to follow. There stands a pissed of Schlatt, “You forget one technicallity… Whatever, it will all be fixed in a moment” he declares before drawing out a sword. Then Schlatt and Clay begin a back and forth, with Clay doing most of the talking, his words just confusing Schlatt. After his epic speech, Clay slowly rises from the bed and holds a sword to Schlatt and demands that Schlatt drop his weapon. Fear now swimming in his eyes, Schlatt does everything Clay commands even sitting in a chair. Schlatt even allows you to tie him up extremely tightly.

Suddenly, George walks into the bedroom, surprising the hell out of you. “Where’s Sapnap and Bad?” Clay asks George, causing the shock and surprise to ring further in you, “I thought they were with you!” George responds. Since when were they all friends? A voice calls to you from outside the window. You and George help Clay to look outside and there you find Bad and Sapnap standing next to five white horses. “We found the stables!” Bad calls to you three. “And there were five horses and there were five of us if we found Y/N!” “Hi Y/N!!!” Sapnap interrupts waving frantically to you. A soft grin graces your face as you return the wave to the gentle giant who you def had a soft spot for now. “So we took them!” Bad finishes. You stare at each other for a while before Sapnap holds his arms out and motions to you. You giggle and step onto the window ledge and jump down, somehow completely trusting this giant and his friends who had tried to kill you. Sapnap catches you and gently puts you down on the ground before catching George and Clay too. “Hey, uhhhh… I just wanted to apologize for kidnapping you a few days ago,” Bad claims stepping forward, a sheepish look on his face. “We were just doing what we were hired too… That doesn’t make it right though and we’re sorry.” You give the man a soft smile, “It’s okay. I forgive you… What you did helped me find my love again so it was worth it in the end.” You claim as you turn and cuddle into Clay’s side. Clay grins down at you and kisses the top of your head before pecking your lips. “Alright then… Let’s get out of here.”

And so the five of you ride off and away from the castle, not really sure where you’re going. You ride for many hours before you finally feel it, the weight being lifted off of your shoulders. You stop and get off of your horses. “I think this might be a good place to settle down,” George claims looking around at the wide open area. “Yeah! I agree!” Sapnap shouts, jumping down beside him. You and Clay also hop off of your horses and move slightly away from the other three. “What do you think, love?” Clay asks quietly. You give a quick glance around before locking your gaze with his, “I think it’s perfect. I want to start our new life here… With our new friends.” A grin graces Clay’s face as his hand comes up to cup your cheek. He moves his face close to yours, so close you can feel his breath brushing against your slightly parted lips. “As you wish”

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nny11writes · 4 years ago

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Hey friend! What better way to show our love for characters than through some good old whump?

“Just move your hands for a minute, please, ______, I can’t help you if you won’t let me see what’s wrong!” +glitra

How dare you. In exchange for being such an enabler with such a cruel and delightful whump prompt I have decided to give you your whumpage. This may be the most classically all hurt no comfort things I’ve ever written.

TRIGGER WARNING: Blood, injury, abdominal injury, implied character death (open for interpretation but vague enough). Graphic depictions of violence and injury.

Please excuse any obvious errors. Lost the ability to blink my eye half way through and was a bit distracted by the blurry pain tearing up part of that, but also fucking obsessed and needing to get this one out on the page like ASAP. (Don’t worry I did take care of it best I could but once you notice that it kinda distracts. Dry eye pain is a jerk and should meet me outside the school at 3PM for an ass kicking.)

Also, uh, happy early B-Day Glimmer?????? I’m so sorry??????????????

It’s not hard to find her once Catra takes every last emotion still left in her wrung out body and shoves it down and away. Deep deep down. It’s relieving. Like pulling a loose tooth out, the feeling of it as it’s finally freed from the gums, the satisfying squelch that comes right before the pressure disappears. It’s painful and disgusting and addicting. And it helps settle her heart enough to think.

The attack was unexpected for sure, and this far away from Etheria Glimmer’s powers were severely limited.

Adora and Bow are helping the surviving civilians that got caught up in the battle. Battle, ha. Ambush. Catra breathes deeper and closes her eyes, lets her hearing and smell guide her. Because they don’t know where Glimmer is, and if the queen had her magic she’d be there helping too.

On the Velvet Gauntlet, Catra saved her for more than just Adora. Trapped on that ship, back to back and trying to stay sane she’d come to a realization. Glimmer was everything that Catra was not, every part of her that could have possibly been good or useful or right bundled together into hope and fire and a warm kindness that felt white hot against her chest.

“Why are you saving me!?”

Because you’re worth it. Because you’re amazing. Because you have so much left to live for. Because I would rather die than let them break you.

“Not you.” It’s one of the biggest lies she’s ever told in her life. “Adora.”

Her eyes snap open as she finally gets a scent. Glimmer. Blood. Lots of blood.

Catra isn’t even thinking as she drops to all fours, claws digging into the dirt and clay to give her purchase. Careless of the grooves she leaves behind, ignoring the cries for help from others as she passes, and certainly uncaring of her own injuries. She catches the sudden change in direction a hair too late, skidding sideways into a half destroyed wall before managing to dig into the ground again.

Only to pull up short.

Thank the moons, thank the stars, thank everything!

She has to learn to stop being hopeful someday. As she finally gets close enough to see that it’s not just the green blood of clones but the red of etherian. To finally notice the weak way that Glimmer is shuddering and twisting, curled around herself tightly with ragged breath.

Catra forces herself to slow down, to keep the emotions down. Lock it up.

“Glimmer, where?”

Hazy through the pain, two pink eyes glance up at her and Glimmer doesn’t even try to smile. Tears roll down her face and she clutches at her stomach. Catra drops to her side, reacting to see but Glimmer gasps and tries to wiggle away. It’s involuntary, Catra knows that, maybe better than most. How many times did her squad reach out to help her after another round of it with Shadow Weaver? How many times did she hiss and bite and struggle when what she needed more than anything else was their help.

“Hey! I can’t help you if you don’t let me.” Catra growls all the same, the box shaking inside of her before she slows her heart rate again. Quickly dragging her fingers through her hair, the scratching and tugging helping her focus again. But reaching in doesn’t help, Glimmer looks panicked, lashing out as best she can with weakened kicks. Ironically in some ways, Catra has to withdraw when Glimmer bites her with a snarl. “SPARKLES!”

It’s a light switch. Glimmer finally stops struggling, and instead squints up at her. “C-Catra?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. I need to-” She’s barely motioned again to the injury when Glimmer gasps and curls tighter.

“No!”

“Don’t be an idiot!” The box rattles again when Glimmer stares at her as if the last few years never happened. She’s shaking. They are wasting time. “You need to- I need...just. Move your hands for a minute, please, Glimmer, I can’t help if you won’t let me see what’s wrong!”

Glimmer doesn’t move her hands, but she stops fighting when Catra reaches again. It’s not as big as Catra feared, but it certainly isn’t good either. A patch a bit larger than her fist is missing skin and fat, there something small and tube like poking out amidst the missing flesh. The bleeding is mostly from the other side. Explosion? Ballistic? Glimmer’s left side has a wound too, a clear cut exit wound that was hidden by her body.

Catra can feel the terrified purring kicking in as she scrambles to rip Glimmer’s cape into a half assed bandage. She rips off her own shirt to have more fabric. She’d rip of her own fucking skin if it would help. Strip by strip if she could use it to heal.

But she can’t, and she isn’t a medic, and she can’t save her this time. She can’t save her from this.

“I’m going to pick you up, we need to get to Adora.” It’s not up for debate, just a statement of facts as Catra hauls Glimmer into her arms. Her ribs scream and her back must be on fire but it doesn’t matter. “Hang on.”

“Yup,” Glimmer wheezes, obviously trying to be light hearted as she can.

Catra doesn’t even remember running back. Not really. She remembers checking in on Glimmer what felt like every few seconds. She remembers almost tripping on a body. But her focus is on the amazing woman in her arms. She barely even remembers passing Glimmer over into Adora’s hands, white magic pouring from She-Ra’s infinite well into their friend.

“You don’t understand!”

“Well enlighten me!”

They stand almost nose to nose, both huffing and nearly panting after shouting at one another.

“YOU WERE DEAD CATRA!”

The fight is sucked right out of her. “...yeah, I was.”

“Shut up, shut up! You were dead and it was my fault!” Glimmer is an ugly crier. Her face gets blotchy and her nose runs like a fountain. Somehow that’s so much worse than if she’d shed a single tear, because it’s for her.

“It wasn’t-”

But Glimmer grabs her and hauls her in roughly. The kiss is intense and lightning fast before Glimmer is hiccupping into her neck. “It was, it was, it was. And-and-and you wouldn’t have known, Catra! It hurt to see you like that, I never, ever want to see that again, okay!? So STOP trying to throw it all away!”

At the time she’d been too stunned to really think it through. But here, now, watching with bated breath and Glimmer’s heart stops even as She-Ra’s magic becomes blinding...she gets it.

Bow’s hand is on her shoulder, both having to turn away from the light, when Catra finally puts a name to it. That feeling she had when Glimmer had kissed her, the drop in her stomach when she’d found her. The box tumbles out and bursts open on the ground.

I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her.

I can’t lose her. I can’t!

But really, when has what she wanted ever mattered?

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clairvoyantsam · 5 years ago

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#JUSTINDESERVEDBETTER talk & 13 Reasons Why S4E10 thoughts

So ... I’ve already watched the series finale, did it right after episode 9 but it was hard for me to watch and write my thoughts simultaneously because I was ugly crying the whole freakin time. Thus, I’m posting this now. Haven’t cried this much in a LONG while. My heart is fucking broken. I’m gonna start by talking about my favorite character whom the show did SO. FUCKING. DIRTY. JUSTIN FOLEY DESERVED BETTER. (obviously, OBVIOUSLY, it was gonna be MY favorite character who gets screwed over and dies a horrible death, just my luck, why did I expect a happy ending, I don’t even know).

Justin was the most tragic figure of the show. Raised by a junkie mother who never gave a damn about him, sexually molested as a little kid by one of her many drug addict & violent boyfriends, he often went to school dirty and hungry because of the neglect. He never had a positive influence in his life. He only managed to do better with Bryce’s help (Bryce was a bastard but he did care about Justin in his own way, that’s for sure).

After the events of S1 with Hannah’s suicide and the tapes and everything that happened with Jessica and Bryce, he left his abusive home and lived in the streets where he barely ever found food and what money he got from charity or the men who paid (and hurt him) to use his body, he gave to drugs.

In S2, Clay and Toni, found him and saved his life, helped him get back on his feet and he tried his best to set things straight with everyone. He even saved Clay’s life who came so close to killing Bryce and even worse himself. He didn’t hesistate to face the legal consequences if it meant helping the girl he loved. And Clay eventually became his brother as his parents decided to adopt him.

In S3, he started going to school and doing well, got a job, tried to start his life over, this time in a safe environment with a real family and friends who supported him. He was doing exceptionally well, he looked much happier, he finally felt what it’s like to be loved by a mother and father and a brother and he got some sense of normalcy in his life. He was there for Clay when things got bad, believed in him and he had his back ALWAYS. (still emo about their scenes together where they told each other “I love you” & “I’d do ANYTHING for you”), Plus, he was one of Tyler’s biggest supporters stating Tyler deserved a second chance to be better.

Come S4 ... he’s fresh out of rehab, looking better than ever. His friends welcome him when he gets back but everything is different. EVERYTHING. And everyone has changed. THE ENTIRE SEASON, NOBODY, NOT A SINGLE PERSON gave a fuck about him except for the coach and to a point his adoptive parents. He had done so much progress, he wanted to make his new family proud so bad, he was clean, he was doing great at school, he even got accepted into college!!! And what did he get in return???? NOT ONE OF HIS FRIENDS HUNG OUT WITH HIM ONCE, NOT EVEN ONCE. Every time he tried to approach someone or help THEM deal with their problems, he was turned away and even insulted. They would tell him he shouldn’t be giving advice and that he would never change who he used to be. He confessed to the coach that he felt like nobody believed in him and frankly?? NOBODY SHOWED THEY DID!!!!!!!! Jessica brushed him off all the time because she was MAD he broke up with her so he could FOCUS ON HIS HEALTH!!!!!!!!!! WHAT??????!!!!!!!!! She kept parading everywhere with Diego when she knew this was hurting him deeply. Clay was so fucking MEAN to him and I didn’t understand WHY after their great bonding their previous two seasons. Sure, he had his own problems, but there was NO reason for this, absolutely none. He was jealous of the moments Justin shared with his parents and how he was doing well at school and sports and got accepted in college. He even told in his FACE that Matt and Lainie are his parents ALONE, not Justin’s when he knew Justin’s biggest need was to feel the love and warmth of a family. Justin wanted to go to a free college so that Clay could have the money go to the BEST one and so the Jensens didn’t have to spend any on him. And I’m 100% sure he never told them how sick he was until it was too late because he didn’t want to be a burden so he decided to die quietly and slowly without upsetting them. Clay had the NERVE to pin the positive drug test on Justin when Justin was fucking CLEAN and then went on to smoke POT at that party. It broke my heart in 1000000 pieces when Justin asked him why he hated him so much. Zack wasn’t better either, basically telling Justin that he’d be a junkie his entire life and he could never change. The others mostly didn’t give a flying fuck, focused on nobody else but themselves and stayed far away from him the entire season. His mom died of OD and he didn’t tell anyone but the Jensens and Jess and he had to deal with everything all on his own again. He only had the coach to listen and there was a limit to what help he could give. So, he finally broke. He stopped caring since nobody was giving him a chance, he started using again, he lost his job, he didn’t care about anything. Jess and Clay knew he was using again and did NOTHING to help except tell him “Hey, I thought you quit! I thought you were getting better!”. Wow, BIG HELP, ASSHOLES. They all left him alone on prom night, and Clay SAW how sick he looked but he preferred to go to prom rather than stay with his brother who needed him.

Justin, with what little strength he had left, got dressed and went to the prom towards its end, he looked so beautiful in his suit, like Prince Charming. He lived one last carefree moment with the girl he loved and then he collapsed. And THAT’S when everyone said “OH, NO! Let’s go see our sick friend!”. Well done, now he IS DYING, YOU IGNORANT IDIOTS. Now that he’s at death’s door, you want to be there for him but WHERE WERE YOU WHEN HE WAS SO DESPERATELY TRYING TO LIVE?????????? Yes, it was proven that he had HIV, probably from the time he lived on the streets and without the proper care it went on to become fully AIDS and he had numerous other issues with his health as a result of that and the drugs to the point that he could no longer breathe on his own. BUT. Had he shared his problems and told the Jensens how sick he was feeling for so long, his death could have been prevented. I know someone in real life who got HIV in his 30s and he’s now in his 60s and his life is perfectly fine. He has friends, he has family (didn’t get married), he travels, he does what he wants. Justin could have been saved if someone had NOTICED. Like HANNAH could have been saved if someone, ANYONE was paying attention. Needless to say, I fucking died during his scenes in the hospital, it was so hard to watch him waste away in that hospital bed. When they took the tube out so he could say his goodbyes to Clay, Jess and his adoptive parents ... I LEGIT haven’t cried so hard in SO long ... I still have a headache from all the crying. My poor CHILD, he was scared but he told them all how much he loved them and eventually died in his sleep, holding his brother’s, Clay’s hand. The episode was meaningless after that for me. I only watched to see how everyone’s stories would end, even though I didn’t care and knew that they’d get their happy (mostly) endings. The one character who TRULY deserved the best and happiest ending, got royally fucked and buried six feet under while everyone went about their lives like nothing had happened.

I really don’t have much to comment on the rest of the story. Clay did one final extreme act by walking in the police department, saying he had a gun. Not convinved he didn’t really want to die too after Justin but perhaps his psychologist was right and he was just trying to make people notice he was hurting. I’m happy for Toni for doing what’s best for him and deciding to accept the scholarship and go to college, same goes for Tyler, he deserved to be happy and I’m glad he ended up with Estella. Relieved that Jess and Diego tested negative for HIV but disappointed they were ready to get back together so soon after Justin. Winston decided to not use what he found out about Bryce’s death against Alex and the others and that made me respect him a little bit. (Winston and Ryan btw? hehe, I kinda saw it coming ever since I saw Ryan and Courtney at the graduation-did anyone also notice Bryce and Monty in the crowd too??lol). Liked the graduation and Hannah’s little cameo (although it was archived footage) but it left me with a sour taste because Justin wasn’t there among the rest, only as a ghost in Clay’s mind. Also that Heidi girl talking to Clay, uh, SO cheesy and unnecessary. Clay reading Justin’s college essay with Justin’s ghost in their bedroom and seeing how it was all about him and Justin calling him his brother ... IT DESTROYED ME. UTTERLY AND COMLETELY. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME. WHY WOULD YOU KILL THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CHARACTER OF THE SHOW. THE MOST COMPLEX AND DAMAGED ONE. WHY COULDN’T HE HAVE A HAPPY ENDING LIKE THE REST OF THEM. IT’S FUCKING UNFAIR.

I’m glad the final scene was just Clay and Toni driving away, always enjoyed their friendship. Having no word exchange between them was pretty powerful because you only needed to read their expessions to feel the emotions.

All in all, a powerful season who dealt with so many important issues, well directed and full of action but disappointing for me where it mattered the most ... Right now, I don’t want to even touch another show for a long time, I need a break to recover from this, it was too much. I wish I didn’t get so attached to certain characters, but I do and it hurts me deeply when shit like that happens to them. Anyway ... Goodbye, show ... it was (mostly) good while this journey lasted ... I sure hope I see all these HUGELY talented actors and actresses in other projects in the future, especially Brandon Flynn (Justin), Dylan Minnette (Clay), Katherine Langford (Hannah) & Justin Prentice (Bryce). I also hope Brandon & Dylan get ALL the awards for their performances in S4. THEY DESERVE EVERYTHING. I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on all this, it was such an intense experience.

#Justin Foley #13 Reasons Why Spoilers #13RW Spoilers #13 Reasons Why #Clay Jensen #Brandon Flynn #Dylan Minnette

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

If We Walk Down This Road, 1/2 (Scyvie) - Ashley

It’s the final year of sixth form and stress levels are high for Yvie as she balances school work, Uni applications and her “part-time” job in a kids activity centre. However, things only get worse when her boss decides to hire his privately educated, definition of privilege daughter, Scarlet, as their marketing assistant and she rubs Yvie up the completely wrong way. Until, of course, she doesn’t.

Here goes a very late submission to the black girl magic fic! Hope you guys like it! This is a prequel of some sorts to my fics Got My Number and Girl on Fire but it works fine as a standalone so you don’t have to have read those to understand anything. Big thanks to @pink-grapefruit-cafe and @artificialortega for all the help, love and support with this fic.

Yvie loved her life. She wouldn’t have changed a piece of it for the world. Only, every now and then, she longed to be someone else.

This feeling usually arrived when making her way through the industrial estate, hearing the loud Kidz Bop music they were forced to play at her work ring in her ears before the building was even in sight. In fact, that feeling arrived every single time she walked towards her work, it was just something she had become accustomed to. It wasn’t the worst job in the world, she got to hang out with Jaida, Heidi and Priyanka on the weekends and the pay wasn’t awful. She just sometimes wished that after a long, frustrating day of writing essays she could stay on the bus until she arrived home, take a nice shower and do her homework with the telly on instead of hopping off after just six stops to put on a fake smile for a few hours and pray that no one was sick in the soft play area.

And on what seemed like the dullest Friday since she had started her job there, God (who she didn’t really believe in but had no one else to make the prayer to) decided that it most certainly wasn’t her night because a grand total of three kids were sick in the soft play instead of just the usual one.

So worth the twenty pounds she’d end off earning. So, so worth it.

Ready to throw her gloves in the bin, wash her hands at least four times and spend the rest of the night lurking at the back of the cafe until it was time to close, Yvie was stopped in her tracks when she returned back to her spot. Her spot that was currently occupied by a thin, unfamiliar red-head.

Pale legs poking out of a plaid skirt that reeked of prefects and lacrosse games, she stood out like a sore thumb against the bright yellow hoodies that made up their uniform (Yvie’s slightly stained with bleach and too short for her gangly arms). Yvie watched in silence for a second as the girl burrowed through the fridge, hearing a big, dramatic sigh of relief escape her red lips as she laid eyes on a Coke Zero.

“Can I help you?” Yvie asked.

Only it wasn’t really a question, Yvie using her level ten voice that was usually only saved for people who tried to push in the queue for the toilet on nights out or for idiots who answered easy questions wrong on Pointless when she watched it at Nina’s house. Annoying customers were normally only confronted with a mid-range level of anger on Yvie’s behalf, passive-aggressive rather than completely pissed off. As much as forever feeling the need to call out people in the wrong irked her, Yvie knew that she shouldn’t do that at work, leaving it for at home where the threat of being fired didn’t loom over her shoulder like the grim reaper’s scythe.

Something about this girl just threw that out into the window and sent it flying down the motorway at rapid speed, Yvie’s patience nowhere to be seen.

“Sorry.” The girl giggled. Actually giggled. “Took me forever to find the sugar free!”

“Normally you’d wait to be served it.” Yvie shot imaginary laser beams with her eyes. “At the other side of the counter.”

Yvie watched the girl pause, a coy grin on her face as her eyes danced between Yvie’s face and her own reflection in the clean glass.

“It’s a shame there was no one there to serve me!” She unscrewed the lid from the bottle, taking a swig and aaahing in delight as though it were the nectars of Greek gods.

Her voice was posh.

Not tea and crumpets, let’s-go-shoot-some-clay-pigeons posh but still posh nonetheless. She pronounced the Ts in her words in a way that neither Yvie nor any of her friends did and Yvie knew that if she wasn’t so furious she would have found it sexy.

She was always a sucker for a posh voice.

“Well, if you’d have waited two minutes then I would have been here,” Yvie replied, letting her nails squish into the palms of her own hands - a self-control mechanism that didn’t tend to work when your nails were bitten down to stumps like Yvie’s currently were (something she liked to attribute to the stress of her A-Levels despite it being a habit she’d formed as a kid).

It was safe to say she didn’t feel relieved.

Especially when the familiar lull of the owner’s voice boomed behind her. How perfectly convenient.

“Yvie!”

Normally Yvie would be relieved to realise he’d actually gotten her name right but her mind was full of other thoughts - supermodel shaped thoughts with blue eyes that were probably going to get her murdered.

At least she’d taken the rubber gloves off before she met her untimely end, she thought to herself, pulling the biggest ‘I’m sorry, I should be more attentive’ smile she could muster as she turned to face her boss.

“I see you’ve met my daughter!” He motioned to the girl.

His daughter, of course.

“Yes,” Yvie stammered, her cheeks red at the mistake she’d made.

The girl, her boss’ daughter, instead seemed nothing but amused.

“Scarlet’s here to help with our marketing; gotta make sure that personal statement is in tip-top shape ready for applications!”

Yvie felt his words crawl under her skin, the itch of casual nepotism. Casual nepotism that would probably land people like Yvie without a Uni offer. She never liked to think of herself as bitter when these situations arose, but this time she couldn’t deny that she was at least a little tart. After all, Yvie was pretty adamant that any Russell Group would favour the privately educated white girl who had marketing experience with a local business over the one who cleaned the toddler’s sick from the ball pit.

It really was as simple as that.

Yvie didn’t know if Scarlet failed to sense her discomfort or simply ignored it anyway as she moved over and held out her hand.

Yvie couldn’t remember the last time she had actually shaken someone’s hand but obliged nonetheless. Scarlet’s eyes narrowed slightly when Yvie met them, her face concentrated like she was about to be quizzed on Yvie’s appearance. Realising she hadn’t blinked since their hands met, Yvie pulled away quickly, the brightness of the centre snapping back into focus around her.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then.” Scarlet took an extra big swig of the bottle before tossing it in the bin and leaving the cafe with her Dad.

And she wasn’t wrong. Indeed, Yvie found herself “seeing Scarlet around” on every single shift she was on the rota for. For an entire three weeks. Without fail.

She was starting to think the phrase, ‘bane of my life’ was an understatement for how she felt about the girl.

It’d started small, Yvie finding herself rolling her eyes whenever Scarlet came into the cafe for a drink. But soon Yvie started to believe that Scarlet didn’t just live in a different part of town but in a whole other fantasy that the rest of the staff were foreign to, parading past the trampolines once every hour as if the carpet were the runway at Paris Fashion Week.

“Do you think someone needs to tell her she’s not actually a real princess?” Yvie spoke into the walkie talkie, exchanging glances between Scarlet and her friend.

“Leave her be! She’s just playing with the kids, you witch,” Jaida responded from the opposite end of the park. “Stop being so cynical.”

Yvie was grateful for her work friends. Although she loved Nina and Brooke with every piece of her often cold, dead heart, it was nice to have found girls more like her at work. Girls who understood how it felt when her school told her she wasn’t allowed any “extreme” hairstyles and she had to take out her braids. Girls who also got told they were too confident, sometimes arrogant when all they were doing was being proud of themselves. Girls a little bit older and wiser (not that she’d ever admitted that she found them wise) who helped her love her skin just that little bit more than she already did.

“Yeah but she’s probably getting paid double what we are to swan about like that!”

Yvie raised her hands in the air to Jaida but didn’t get a chance to hear her response, turning the volume down to zero when she saw Scarlet making her way towards her.

“Hey, doll.” Scarlet plonked a notebook down on the counter in front of Yvie, a big grin of optimism filling the lower half of her face.

Her hair was down that day, soft ginger curls falling in front of her chest. Yvie had a sudden urge to push a strand back and tuck it behind her ear.

Why did the most annoying girl on the planet have such flawless bone structure? It simply wasn’t fair.

“Hello,” Yvie responded rather formally, reaching to grab Scarlet’s usual order. The faster she did so, the faster she walked away - so Yvie may or may not have been keeping a couple of Coke Zeros in the special fridge under the counter that was saved only for open milk bottles, just so she could serve Scarlet with the utmost efficiency.

A part of her just wished she would serve herself again.

“Oh no.” She shook her head, reaching out to touch Yvie’s arm and stop her. Yvie could hardly feel her hand through the thick hoodie, yet her heart still decided it wanted to start sprinting in the middle of the leisurely stroll it was taking before Scarlet had come over. Maybe she had to add the human anatomy to the list of things she’d decided she hated that week, right underneath her new English teacher and egg mayonnaise sandwiches. Her stupid, fat heart.

“I’m here for your interview!”

“Interview?” Yvie raised a brow and chuckled to herself. She wondered if Scarlet had ever actually had to be interviewed for anything in her life nevermind conduct one.

“For Instagram! I’m posting little profiles of all the staff, a little get to know me! It’ll help the youngsters really see what a family we are here!”

Yet another thing Yvie hated was how Scarlet always managed to talk like an edgy teenager and a middle-aged woman at the same time, figuring that was the first and last time she’d hear an eighteen-year-old refer to kids as “youngsters”. Or at least she said she hated it in one of the many Scarlet-included rants she’d had to Heidi the weekend before; she may have actually loved it. The two feelings were often blurred in Yvie’s brain, hard to tell one from the other in her web of brutal honesty and blunt opinions. She was ninety-nine per cent sure she hated it.

“I’ll get someone to cover your station and we can go natter in the staff room.” Scarlet took her lack of words as acceptance and turned on the spot.

Maybe Yvie was only eighty per cent sure.

Yvie had never seen Scarlet in the staff room before, watching most days as the girl took her snacks outside where she ate alone in her car. So it was strange to be cramped on the small sofa with her, both of them staring at the mirror in front rather than at each other. The smell of a ready-made curry that had been left in the microwave for too long that day was lingering warm in the air. Yvie took a deep breath and held it, scared that if she released it her body would touch Scarlet’s just that inch too much and then the entire world around them would explode around them, kind of like the curry.

“So, what’s your favourite snack from the cafe?” Scarlet held a fountain pen in her hand, ready to write. Yvie didn’t need to look at the notepad to know her handwriting was beautiful, a piece of art next to her own illegible scrawls.

“I don’t buy food here,” Yvie responded nonchalantly.

Scarlet popped the end of the pen in her mouth for a moment then let it rest back at the paper.

“You’ve never eaten anything here?” Scarlet questioned, clearly dissatisfied with Yvie’s answer.

“Nope. It’s far too expensive. I just buy my lunch at the off-license before I get the bus.”

“You know what I want you to say!” Scarlet whined. Yvie thought she would do great as a soap actress if the whole marketing thing never worked out for her. She had that dramatic flare mastered down to a tee. And the charming voice to match.

“I’m being honest.” Yvie half-chuckled. “I’m not a liar.”

“Well, I’m just gonna write cheesy nachos then!” Scarlet was trying her hardest to act serious but Yvie just about caught the quiver of her lip.

She wondered if Scarlet somehow knew about her love for cheesy nachos or if it was simply a wild coincidence, either way, she carried on to battle through the questions with Scarlet, praying that there weren’t many to go.

“Which party room is your favourite?” Scarlet still hadn’t lost her enthusiasm, despite having to write down three sarcastic answers as if they were genuine and completely make up new answers for another two so far.

“The volcano room. Normally older kids hire that out and they don’t make as much of a mess as the toddlers in the mermaid or the pirate one.”

Scarlet didn’t even bother to respond to that one, simply shaking her head at Yvie’s response.

“If you don’t like my honesty…” Yvie started, desperate to get back to the comfort of the park where she could swap spots with Jaida for an hour and bask in the comfort of the ball pit.

“I actually find it quite refreshing.” Scarlet gave an all-knowing smile.

Sometimes Yvie got scared that the girl was part-wizard and could see inside of her soul. After all, she knew which school Scarlet attended and she wouldn’t be shocked one bit if it was revealed to be some modern-day incarnation of Hogwarts (then again Yvie did kind of think that about any school with a tuition fee or Latin slogan, so she didn’t know how strongly her argument would stand).

“That’s weird,” she blurted back, unable to think of something quick and witty to say. Where was Brooke with her encyclopedia of shady comebacks when she needed her? Tempted to text her some form of a rant about the interview/ambush she decided against it, knowing Brooke had planned to spend the day with her new “almost-girlfriend” that she had picked up from the literal curb earlier that month.

“You’re weird.” Scarlet stood up, giving Yvie that smile yet again. Yvie knew it so well now that she should have been able to draw it by memory only she knew it would never be captured just right. Not even with all the pencils and canvases and colours that the rainbow had to offer.

She didn’t even try to come up with a comeback to that one.

“Now for the photoshoot!” Scarlet grinned, opening the door for the pair of them.

“Photoshoot?” Yvie’s head whipped around and fired red laser-beams at the girl from her eyes. There had been absolutely no mention of a photoshoot.

“Follow me, my muse.”

***

“Are you doing homework?” Scarlet craned her neck, making out Yvie’s hunched over figure behind the big coffee machine.

“Sorry.” Yvie stood up straight and made her way to the front of the counter, her brown eyes a little droopy compared to normal. Scarlet knew Yvie always played the ‘I hate my life and don’t want to be here’ game at work regularly, but this time was different.

If she were anyone else in the world Scarlet would have pulled her into a great big cuddle. But she wasn’t. She was Yvie. And Yvie hated her.

Most of the time Scarlet didn’t mind that Yvie hated her, she found it quite amusing winding her up and seeing her face scrunch up in frustration. She knew that her confidence didn’t always rub well with people but she’d always told herself that anyone who didn’t want to live in that world with her was simply missing out. Only sometimes she wished things were a bit different at the centre.

She guessed it was one of those days.

“No need to say sorry to me, I’m not paying you!” Scarlet made her way around the back of the cafe and entered. This was something she’d withheld from doing whenever Yvie was stationed there, after their first Coke Zero incident (which she, for the record, actually found quite funny), but the urge simply pulled her and when the urge took control, Scarlet’s will power was nowhere to be seen.

“Is this History?” Scarlet held the papers close to her face. She’d never suited her glasses and had made the executive decision not to wear them around the centre. This was probably some sort of safety hazard considering the fact there were kids jumping around left, right and centre that she was supposed to be constantly observing, but she simply pretended this thought had never even crossed her little air-head brain. Scarlet knew that it never hurt to look good. After all, you never know who could be sneaking glances at you through the gaps in the slush machines.

Scarlet knew exactly who was sneaking glances at her through the gaps in the slush machines. The constant squinting was worth it.

“I really am sorry. I’ve just been really busy and I’m trying to get all my references for Uni but-” Yvie started but stopped to serve a customer. Scarlet heard her voice waver slightly when she asked if she wanted a medium or large. It broke her heart into a thousand little pieces.

“Is it due soon?” Scarlet flicked through the questions. “I did this last term. My file is in my boot if you want me to get some notes out?”

“I don’t need your help.” Yvie took the papers from out of her hands and placed them back on the counter.

Scarlet knew that behind her constantly on-guard exterior there was a girl who just wanted to relax for a second and have fun. She caught her sometimes. Like the time Heidi queued the entirety of the Hercules soundtrack on their iPod and Yvie complained over the walkie talkie yet Scarlet saw her dancing to the songs in the back of the cafe when she thought no one could see (she may or may not have added I Won’t Say I’m In Love to her playlist that night). Or when Jaida fell into the big airbag and shouted at everyone to look away and Yvie released one of her big hearty laughs that managed to surprise Scarlet every time she heard it. She’d always try to catch Yvie’s face when the girls played their own version of Russian roulette with the bottles of cleaning spray that they thought no one else knew about, closing their eyes and spinning the nozzles then stopping to spray - Yvie dying with laughter every time the liquid spat on her jumper.

“If you’re stressed, I can help. You’re applying to somewhere really good aren’t you?”

“You don’t know everything, Scarlet. I told you already that I don’t need your help, I don’t need your special private school notes or whatever it is you pay to get taught.”

It stung. Those weren’t Scarlet’s intentions at all. But she knew how they must have come across.

“That’s okay.” She grabbed some cans of pop from the back and started to stack the fridge. “Just letting you know that the staff room is really dirty and someone needs to clean it.”

“What?” Yvie turned to face her. “Pri cleaned it yesterday.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to clean it again.” Scarlet made a point of looking at the camera in the corner that she knew her dad would glance at from his office every half an hour. “I’ll watch the cafe while you do it. And take those papers with you.”

“Do you even know how to make a coffee?” Yvie caught on, grabbing her notes and a roll of cloth for show.

“Oh my god. Yes, I go to private school but I’m not Paris Hilton! I can watch the cafe for half an hour.”

“Sorry.” Yvie smiled as she left. “And thank you. Really, thank you.”

And Scarlet felt that thank you deep in her bones, one she’d keep saved somewhere to replay on a day when she felt lonely. Only she began to think that Yvie should’ve taken the thank you back when she realised that she should have absolutely not been trusted to watch the cafe for half an hour.

Scarlet knew she wasn’t the best “employee” they had, spending most of her days taking photos, making social media posts and chatting with the little ones when they were done playing. But she didn’t know how quite bad she was until she had burned two toasties, overcharged at least five customers and accidentally poured one woman’s change into her cup of tea instead of her hand.

Maybe she should stick to Instagram.

She tried her hardest to help, cleaning the toastie machine as best as she could before Yvie returned but she knew that she had messed things up, creating more jobs on top of the ones Yvie already had to do when closing the cafe.

“Are you nearly done?” Scarlet heard her Dad ask Yvie later on as he prepared to lock up for the night.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to cash up the till. There are a few discrepancies I need to try and fix.” Yvie didn’t even look up from the tablet, punching numbers into the digital counter with frustration.

“I’ve got my car.” Scarlet blurted before she knew what she was saying. “I’ll help Yvie and lock up here when she’s done. Get yourself away, Dad.”

Scarlet looked at her phone, full of notifications from the girls’ chat: Naomi telling everyone what booze she was going to bring, Plastique asking what they were all wearing, Pearl waking up from the longest of naps to tell everyone she’d be an hour late. She didn’t read them all properly, sending a quick message before popping her phone back in her pocket:

‘I’ll be late tonight. Don’t wait on me xx’

It was the least she could have done.

They were silent for a while, the two of them all alone in the big airy building, the main lights switched off with only the small ones at the top of the cafe kiosk to help them see.

Scarlet did her best to help, double-checking Yvie had counted the piles of coins properly whilst she fiddled around the tablet. She figured that maybe silence was better for them, she couldn’t annoy Yvie with her dramatic exclamations and Yvie wouldn’t bombard her with unsought “honest opinions”.

Until that silence was broken with a bang, echoing through the darkness and causing Scarlet’s entire body to leap out of her skin.

Yvie didn’t even quiver.

“What the fuck was that?” She asked Scarlet, her thick eyebrows raised as she peered towards the soft play.

“That doesn’t normally happen?” Images of axe-wielding lunatics stowed away inside the slides flashed through Scarlet’s mind.

“Funnily enough, it doesn’t,” Yvie responded, still as sarcastic as ever in times of panic. “Put your phone light on.”

Scarlet didn’t really want to go and inspect the noise but she also didn’t want to wait in the cafe alone. She knew she was the perfect damsel in distress, axe murders would love her! Trying her best not to be a baby, she followed by Yvie’s side with her phone light guiding their path.

“What if there’s a bomb?” Scarlet placed a hand on her chest and felt Yvie stop next to her. “One of those ones with a remote control that detonates it!”

“You think someone planted a bomb in our play area? And waited to detonate it when no one was around other than me and you?” Scarlet knew Yvie was rolling her eyes as she spoke despite not being able to see her. “I honestly don’t understand how your brain works sometimes.”

“You love me really,” Scarlet responded without thought as they turned another corner. It was an automatic response she often used to her friends when they made fun of her, it felt weird saying it to Yvie. With anyone else, she would have brushed it off, but with Yvie it was different.

And then Yvie gasped.

Before Scarlet knew it her hand was in the other girl’s. It was automatic. She got a shock and Yvie was there. A patch of her hand turned cool where Yvie’s ring pressed against it.

“What was it?” She asked a second later, her brain too caught up with why her hand was gripping tightly onto Yvie’s hand and why Yvie hadn’t pushed her off to actually know what Yvie had reacted to.

“Nothing.” The hearty laugh came back. It was almost comforting in the darkness. “Just wanted to see how you reacted.”

‘Well there you go,’ Scarlet thought to herself as she looked down to their hands, not quite brave enough to say it out loud.

And then Yvie started to laugh, a noise Scarlet would never ever get used to.

“There’s your bomb.” Her hand slipped out of Scarlet’s and pointed in front of them, the remnants of a big silver helium balloon on the floor. “Good job I was here to protect you from that.”

Before she knew it they were back at the till, fixing each of Scarlet’s mistakes and counting out their float for the next day. They worked relatively well together, only managing to butt heads once more when Scarlet suggested they write out a whole new balance sheet instead of scribbling out a mistake and writing the new number next to it as Yvie wanted. She let it go in the end, her phone vibrating in her pocket with texts from the girls a constant reminder that she had a little red dress with her name on it waiting at home.

“Guess I’ll see you later,” Yvie murmured as they left the building, pacing down the road as Scarlet fumbled with the keys. She was a racehorse in the rain, taking her steps twice as fast as the average human as if the building was on fire.

“Where are you going?” Scarlet had to shout after her, half expecting Yvie to ignore her and keep walking anyway.

“Home?” She stopped up the road for a second and turned around. “Now if you don’t mind I have a bus I’m about to miss.”

About to insist she got in the car, Yvie was already far in the distance, slipping out of Scarlet’s vision in the rain by the time the doors were fully locked. Maybe wearing her glasses would have been useful after all.

Cringing as the puddles splashed up her legs, Scarlet ran to her car as fast as she could, throwing her phone onto the passenger seat and taking off down the road. Thankfully it didn’t take her long to catch Yvie, her dark hair poking out through her hoodie and already scraggly with rain.

“Hey!” She pulled up into the bus stop. “Get in, I’ll take you home.”

“What are you a stalker?” Yvie raised her arms in the air. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“You’re going to freeze.”

“The bus will be here any minute.”

Scarlet knew she should have just given in and turned around but she felt the guilt for their late departure weighing on her shoulders.

“Look Yvie-” Scarlet started but was cut off by a loud beeping behind her, just making out an angry bus driver in her rearview mirror.

“Move or it’ll drive past!” Yvie cried at her, the usual monotone of her voice rising in pitch.

“Sorry, what was that?” Scarlet attempted some humour, grinning from ear to ear as the bus pulled away. “Oops! Guess you’ll just have to have a nice warm lift instead of getting the bus with a load of drunkards.”

Yvie didn’t speak at first, simply pulling the car door open and plonking herself down, arms folded like a huffy toddler. But as Scarlet began to follow the directions she gave it was almost as if the other girl couldn’t help herself from falling back into their usual rapport of snide remarks and winding each other up.

“So do you always kidnap people in your Fiat 500 or is this something new for you?”

If this were any other member of staff, Scarlet knew she’d call them ungrateful but it was almost like her brain had learned a new language with Yvie, acknowledging and adapting to the different way she showed her emotions.

“You’re welcome.” Scarlet turned the heating up a notch, hearing the chatter of Yvie’s teeth between words. “And this isn’t even a Fiat 500.”

“Apologies,” Yvie responded. She was the difference between rudeness and bluntness that Scarlet figured many people couldn’t see, always honest and unbashful but never actually impolite.

Scarlet’s phone rang three times on their way to Yvie’s house and she didn’t even try to answer.

“Thanks for the lift,” Yvie whispered as Scarlet pulled up to the curb, the lights all turned off in the semi-detached next to them. “Even if you did leave me no other choice.”

Scarlet released a sigh and smiled at the return of the girl’s cynical side.

“There’s the Yvie, I know. Thought I’d lost you, being nice to me for a second!”

“Yeah well, you caught me on an off day.” She gathered her things and opened the door. “Don’t go telling anyone I went soft on you, I have a reputation to uphold.”

And she was up the path before Scarlet could think of a response, leaving her a baffling mess of feelings who couldn’t help but hear a certain laugh bouncing around inside the car even when she turned the music up loud and tried to distract herself from Yvie.

A distraction technique she had to use after every shift for a month.

Scarlet had never planned for the lifts to become part of her routine, it just sort of happened. She told herself that she wouldn’t have let one of the girls from school or her younger sister ever wait in the rain for the bus so it was common sense not to let Yvie do that either. After a little while of Scarlet ranting about how it was safer and faster for Yvie to go home with her instead of catching the bus every time they left work together, Yvie stopped trying to argue and simply started hopping in the passenger seat. Of course, she did this in the most classic of Yvie fashions and told Scarlet she was only agreeing so she didn’t have to listen to her whiney speeches about the dangers of the dark every night but it made Scarlet feel better still. Even if she did receive an average of three sarcastic responses to her comments each time.

Slowly but surely, the eggshell around Yvie began to peel away. Scarlet discovered through blunt replies Yvie loved learning about international relations and global conflict, that she wanted to go to Uni to study them despite the high offer and the money that went with the dream. Despite the fact that only one per cent of the campus she wanted to be a part of was black. Ignoring that her teacher had told her to play things safer.

Yvie was real and passionate and thriving and everything Scarlet admired.

Yes, she was still the same sarcastic self she always was behind the cafe counter but she was even more than that underneath the fluorescent lights in Scarlet’s car. A small chunk of the divide between them had been left at the bus stop in the rain while they basked in the warm air shooting out of the vents.

Scarlet was hesitant to call Yvie a friend, they didn’t really chat and gossip - as she did with Plastique, Naomi and Pearl - and when they did at least half of their conversation was made up of insults but Scarlet liked it. Yvie was a refreshing change from the girls she was surrounded with every day at school and Scarlet wanted to drink that in as much as she could. Even if Yvie did still hate her.

In fact, Yvie had started to use those exact words as a regular comeback to Scarlet’s dramatics, rolling her eyes to match.

“Would you hate me if we stop for food before I drop you off?” Scarlet asked one night. “I’m honestly starved.”

“I already hate you, don’t think food would change that.” Yvie laughed.

That fucking laugh.

Scarlet hoped she only-half meant it. But she never really knew for sure.

Making their way into the food chain, Scarlet’s mind was too consumed with the thought of what she was going to order to even realise that her friends were there until she heard her name.

“Hey, sweets.” Naomi smiled from the table. “I thought you were at your Dad’s work?”

“We were just on the way home and I got hungry.” Scarlet motioned to Yvie, stood almost a step behind her.

“Who’s this?” Plastique asked, raising a perfectly shaped brow.

Opening her mouth to speak, Scarlet’s brain went blank for a second. She obviously wanted to tell the girls about Yvie but never knew what to say, she didn’t even know what they were herself nevermind having to explain it to them.

How do you say, ‘this girl works for my Dad and I drive her home every night whilst we listen to Lady Gaga in almost complete silence except for when she insults me because she maybe hates me or I try to get on her nerves because I maybe fancy her,’ in a clear and concise way?

“Erm, this is…” She tried to start but was stopped by Yvie herself.

“I’ll go order our food.”

“Oh,” Scarlet turned, pulling her purse from her pocket. “Here let me pay.”

“It’s fine.” Yvie turned her back. “I guess I owe you a lot of petrol money anyway.”

Her words struck Scarlet a little different. They lacked any emotion, spoken from dead eyes and a stern face. She relived those words a lot in the next few weeks, popping into her head again at the most random of times. For they were the last words she heard Yvie speak for a while, ignoring any effort Scarlet made to chat, even when she gave her perfect opportunities to poke fun at her like bringing up her house team at school or her sister’s upcoming dance recital (Scarlet knew how much humour Yvie found in the fact that their names were just stupid ways of saying red and yellow and normally laughed whenever Scarlet even mentioned Lemon).

“I won’t be able to give you a lift home next week.” She’d told her as they pulled up to Yvie’s house, ready to explain that Pearl had bought them tickets to a theatre show and it started too early. But Yvie hopped out of the car before she could even finish, leaving Scarlet with even more confusion about how the girl felt.

Because Yvie was still Yvie after all. And Scarlet realised after that particular journey that it would take a lot more than a few rides home to get them anywhere close to being classed as friends.

An observation in Scarlet’s mind that only grew stronger over the weeks following, especially when she decided it would be okay to join everyone on one of their regular staff nights out. A decision tinged with regret as soon as she entered the pub.

“Dress was a big mistake!!!! Huge !!! xx” Scarlet texted her teenage sister aggressively from under the table as if it would somehow fix her situation.

Excited to hit the town with everyone from the centre, she’d spent all day getting prepped and ready, letting Lemon paint her nails as they pondered over what she should wear. Eventually, they’d settled on a shimmery gold Oh Polly number she’d worn to Naomi’s birthday the year prior, her jewellery matching just right.

Only that didn’t matter once she arrived, riving her necklace from her throat as soon as she saw the rest of the staff. With all the other girls in bodysuits and trainers, she was the definition of overdressed and out of place.

It started small at first, hearing someone whisper something including the word “Daddy” as she made her way to the tables, one of the girls from the front desk asking her if she was gonna be getting the rounds in all night.

“Scarlet, come sit here!” Heidi had waved at her over, allowing for a second to catch her breath.

Only her nerves didn’t go away once she joined their booth. In fact, they only grew larger when she caught Yvie’s gaze, her eyes wide at Scarlet in a face she’d never quite seen the girl make before. She’d fought hard to ignore it, but her eyes couldn’t stop from glancing back every few seconds, wondering what it was exactly that Yvie’s face was speaking into the universe around them.

Knowing Yvie it was probably something along the lines of ‘What the fuck is the primadonna doing here in that dress’ but she didn’t know for sure, trying her best to join in their conversation and catch the familiar side of the other girl she’d caught glimpses of over the past few months.

“So, whose ID are you using?” Scarlet asked her in an effort to make conversation, having learnt from the walkie talkies that Heidi was usually Yvie’s go-to girl when she went out with her other friends, despite them looking nothing alike.

“Here.” Yvie slid it across the table for Scarlet to examine, the other girls in the booth taking a look too.

“I know her!” Jaida exclaimed. “Chile, I did her prom makeup a couple years ago.”

“Perks of Brooke’s new girlfriend. I now have black friends that aren’t you guys I can borrow ID from. Not the best though, it’s a good job they never actually look properly.”

“Wait.” Priyanka raised two hands in the air. “You’re telling me that your gal Brooke has an official girlfriend? I thought they were just fucking about, damn!”

“Oh, not this again!” Heidi joined in. “We get it, Pri. You got together once and she didn’t remember your name. Move on!”

Scarlet checked her phone to see if her sister had replied but saw nothing, resorting to scrolling through her own photo album and reshuffling her apps so she didn’t look left out. Listening to the girls continue to gossip about people she didn’t know, Scarlet began to question the friendships she’d made at the centre, little voices in her head telling her that none of them would ever like her enough to open up and gossip with her as they did with one another.

For as long as she remembered she had always been confident, never caring what others thought of her. But as she started to gulp her drink down faster than normal, Scarlet felt that confidence slip away more and more. She was so far out of her comfort zone she couldn’t have made it back on a giant jet plane at full speed. And Yvie’s big brown eyes taking stolen glances at her didn’t make any of it better.

“It’s okay, Pri.” Jaida’s voice pulled Scarlet back into their conversation. “At least Yvie remembered your name when you two got with each other!”

“Oh, fuck off!” Yvie slammed her glass onto the table at the same time Scarlet spat some of her drink back into her own.

What an elegant lady she was.

She’d always just assumed that Yvie was into girls too. There was just something about hearing it for real that made Scarlet’s central nervous system stop working for a second, starting again with a scare.

“That was one time,” Priyanka cried from the opposite side of the booth, thankfully oblivious of Scarlet’s reaction.

Only someone wasn’t as oblivious. Someone was looking right at her and sending every thought, every feeling, every fear inside of Scarlet into overdrive.

***

Yvie wasn’t a stranger to awful dancing. After all, she had been friends with Nina for the majority of life, the girl whose feet were built of hard oak and desperation.

But this was something different altogether.

Watching Scarlet across the dance floor, the phrase ‘Bambi on ice’ brought a whole new meaning to Yvie. If she wasn’t so mad at her she’d go over herself, give the girl a twirl and watch as she missed every beat like she had no cares in the world. Only that wasn’t the case, because mad Yvie certainly was.

Yvie didn’t know why she felt so hurt, it wasn’t like they were friends? It wasn’t like she even liked Scarlet? But something about having to stand there while she scrambled for an explanation of who she was to her privately educated, life’s not fair, acrylic nailed girl gang made Yvie’s blood boil. And she’d never admitted it but she may have even shed a tear or two once her blinds were shut and she couldn’t see the not-Fiat 500 and the annoying girl who drove it.

To think she’d started to believe that she was only fifty-five per cent sure of her hatred.

“Staring much?” She could hear the raise of Heidi’s brow in her words as she spoke to her ear, the loud bass around them not heavy enough to drown out the accusation in her friend’s voice.

Yvie couldn’t even deny it, for she’d been staring at Scarlet from the moment she’d walked into the pub earlier. Of course, she’d stalked the girl’s Instagram enough to know what Scarlet looked like dressed up, rolling her eyes at the dumb self-indulgent captions that were always attached to her selfies. Only it was different in person, a mix of gold and warmth and beauty and envy that made Yvie want to snap a pencil in half (she settled for a paper straw instead which certainly did not give the same level of relief). She’d watched as Scarlet ripped a necklace from her neck earlier and longed to put it back on for her, taking her time to hook it on the right loop so that it would hang perfectly above her collarbone.

She tried to fixate on the memory of Scarlet squealing every time they went over the speed bumps outside of their work to give herself the ick. Only that image had become entwined with one of Scarlet getting out the car one night to help a cat out of the road and Yvie only felt more confused.

“I’m just judging her dancing abilities,” Yvie lied.

She knew it was a lie. Heidi, who once confidently believed that Jaida had found a ghost in the dodgeball cupboard, knew it was a lie. The whole club knew it was a lie just from Yvie’s expression. Did lying count as breaking your streak of tough love and honesty if you wanted to believe you were telling the truth so badly? Is lying even lying if it’s yourself you’re lying to? Yvie didn’t know. All she knew was that red and gold looked so good together it should have been illegal. Only it was herself breaking the law when her eyes met Scarlet’s again, holding for a second before she turned to walk away.

The songs all blurred into one once Scarlet was gone, Yvie’s brain out of focus. That was until she was snapped back by a familiar squark pulling her away from her work friends.

“Hey, Yvie! Or should I say Akeria tonight?” Vanessa grinned, a loved-up Brooke with her arm around the other girl’s waist.

“Thanks again.” Yvie tapped her nose, grateful for Brooke’s new relationship and the new friends that had come with it. “I owe you a drink.”

“So where is she then?” Brooke piped up, straight to the point and not wasting time with any cordial greetings on her best friend.

“Priyanka?” Yvie squinted in confusion for a second, wondering why Brooke wanted to see a girl she had previously hooked up with and usually refused to speak about when all she’d talked about for the past few months was how excited she was every Wednesday night to eat special chicken stew and watch soap operas that she pretended to hate at Vanessa’s house.

“No!” Brooke raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes leaping to Vanessa for a split second. “Ja’mie Private School Girl. I wanna see her in person.”

“Oh.” Yvie’s brain slotted the pieces together. Had she really complained about Scarlet that much?

“Is this the girl you always ragin’ about?” Vanessa joined in.

Okay, maybe she did complain about Scarlet too much.

“I’m not sure where she’s at.” She brushed them off, the memory of Scarlet telling her she couldn’t take her home anymore after seeing her friends tinging Yvie sharply, her face starting to flush. “I’m gonna go to the loo but I’ll get you that drink later?”

“Noted.” Brooke pointed a finger, the sound of their voices carrying as Yvie ran desperately to splash her face with some cold water.

Only she never quite made it to the sink, the sight of an upset red-head stopping her as soon as she entered the toilets.

Yvie went to speak but wasn’t given a chance.

“Go away.” Scarlet’s voice wavered as she knelt down, pulling jackets out from under the couch like they were infested.

“I can’t believe you didn’t pay for the cloakroom.” Yvie joined her on the carpet. “Out of character for you.”

“I said go away.” She turned her head to Yvie, her bloodshot eyes living up to her name.

Yvie felt the sudden urge to scoop Scarlet in her arms and cradle her there till the music stopped and the lights turned off and there was no one left in the building. She felt a need she never knew existed.

“Hey. It’s alright, I can help you…”

But Scarlet had already found her jacket and started racing out of the club as though her life depended on it.

“For fuck sake, Scarlet.” Yvie reached for her arm once they were outside, the cold air penetrating through her bodysuit and making her long for the comfort of her bed at home. “Just talk to me.”

She turned, her face illuminated under the street lamps, full of anger and sadness and perhaps a tinge of pain too.

“Why do you want to talk to me? You hate me.”

“I don’t.” Yvie squeezed her arm slightly and looked her in the eyes to try and show that she meant it. Because sometimes her words failed her and she struggled to sound sincere when in her mind she was, so she had to rely on her actions. All she had at that moment was a gentle squeeze to try and show Scarlet that she meant it. She didn’t hate her. She didn’t know when that had changed or if she’d really hated her in the first place but at that moment she was one-hundred per cent certain, the feeling was nothing like hatred.

Scarlet scoffed and pulled away, tapping her phone furiously with her nails. “You tell me you hate me nearly every day I spend with you.”

Yvie tried to argue back but Scarlet was on a mission, waving her hands in the air when she spoke.

“And if you’re not doing that then you’re bitching about me through the walkie talkies. Or giving me dirty looks. I try my best to pass it off and rise above it Yvie but tonight I just can’t anymore, I just want to live and breathe without you looking at me like I’ve shot Bambi’s mother. Like what did I even do to you?”

‘Everything,’ Yvie thought only it came out as a blunt “nothing” instead. “You’re the one that was embarrassed to be seen with me in public.”

“I wasn’t embarrassed, Yvie. Sorry it took me a minute to try and think of something other than ‘a girl I drive around even though she hates me.’” Scarlet kept taking glances between the road and her phone, not meeting Yvie’s eyes. “Or doesn’t hate me, apparently. And I just had plans after our next shift.”

Without knowing what she was doing, Yvie reached out to grab her hand, slipping her fingers through Scarlet’s and clasping like they had done the day Scarlet was scared by the balloon. Scarlet was right. Maybe she was too fast to jump to conclusions. She was up in the sky leaping on the trampolines at work whilst Scarlet was grounded by the cafe, taking herself to a whole new narrative that didn’t really exist. In other words, she’d fucked it.

“I don’t hate you.” Yvie expected Scarlet to let go. She didn’t.

“Well, you don’t act like it.”

But her hand didn’t leave, Yvie had hope. Not a lot, just a slither like the piece of Scarlet’s hair that stayed in front of her face when she pushed the rest back. But it was still hope, it was still something.

“Please just let me explain.” Yvie tried to make Scarlet understand.

She’d spent years trying to dial and change how she spoke. If the black girl in the class raised her voice then she was angry but if she didn’t put up a fight with her words then nobody would take her seriously. All she wanted was to be honest, but the words were flying around her head and wouldn’t stop to land. And then Scarlet’s Uber started to pull up and they were going even faster. Scarlet turned to look at her and Yvie watched as she opened her mouth for a second but no words came out, her eyes frustrated and begging Yvie to fix things.

She waited for the rejection, for Scarlet to push her away as she moved closer, for her to call Yvie crazy and jump in the car, ready to make her time at work even more of a living hell than she already did. But as her lips met Scarlet’s, it never came.

“Your Uber.” Yvie pulled away slightly, their faces only an inch apart and Scarlet gasping for breath. She could feel Scarlet’s sticky gloss on her own lips but didn’t dare wipe at it, wanting the moment to go on like that for as long as it could.

“I guess I’ve gotten used to riding in the car with someone.” Scarlet took her hand again once the car pulled up, their eyes communicating in their own language that Yvie didn’t have the words to explain.

Yvie pulled her phone out to text the girls and tell them she’d headed home, dropping another one to home with an excuse for staying out, feeling Scarlet on her neck as they clambered into the backseat. They didn’t speak for a short while, Yvie simply placed her arm around Scarlet’s shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if she hadn’t spent months terrified of making contact with her.

“I thought you couldn’t stand me,” Scarlet whispered in her ear, her hand burning hot on Yvie’s thigh.

Suddenly Scarlet’s flair for the dramatics was wiped clean from her mental list of things that irked her, replaced accordingly with the concept of clothing, more specifically jeans. Her jeans, that she regretted spending a lot of money on - wishing she’d settled for the paper-thin pair Nina had told her to get from Primark instead. In fact, she’d have paid more for the thin pair right then. Paid anything for Scarlet’s hand to live there just a little bit longer. Yvie let the back of her head hit the seat, lost in the moment until they pulled up to Scarlet’s house.

“We’ll have to be careful,” Scarlet spoke after unlocking the door. “My sister’s home.”

“Does noise even travel here?” Yvie looked around the foyer only half-joking, stopping to chuckle at a big photo of Scarlet and her sister as kids. “Adorable.”

“If you’re loud enough.” Scarlet raised a brow and motioned for Yvie to follow her upstairs, sending tingles through her body at her words.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be the one who needs to worry about keeping quiet.” Yvie let Scarlet lead her to her room, throwing themselves down on the four-poster almost immediately.

It felt weird finally being in Scarlet’s room after spending so long of interacting at work. She couldn’t say she hadn’t pictured it, often imagining Scarlet painting her toes on top of magazines or picking out her outfit each morning. Too distracted to get a proper look at all the photo frames and trinkets around, Yvie made a mental note to make a joke the next day about how she’d always assumed Scarlet had one of those grey crushed velvet headboards like the girls on Twitter.

It was crazy how something could feel so wrong and so right at the same time. Scarlet’s body pressing into her own, it was so insane yet made complete sense. She felt familiar.

Before she knew it Scarlet’s thumb was rubbing over the fabric of her bodysuit, teasing at her nipple through the lace.

Yvie had never been more grateful for her decision not to wear a bra.

“Are you sure you want this?” Scarlet asked her, pausing in her movement to look Yvie in the eyes and confirm. “We can’t go back.”

Yvie knew what she meant, thinking of all the shifts she’d have to spend with her, pinning Scarlet’s new promotional posters around the park, being watched to make sure she placed them in the exact right spots. She’d be unavoidable. But Yvie didn’t care.

“I’ve wanted this ever since you stole a Coke Zero from the cafe.”

Apparently, that was all Scarlet needed, taking the opportunity to smash her lips against Yvie’s, letting their bodies melt into each other. Again and again and again until Yvie was weak with fatigue and let her head hit the pillow one final time. Her vision blurred, she could just make out Scarlet’s figure among all of the stars as the girl switched off the bedside lamp and crawled into bed beside her. They hadn’t just shaken the earth but the whole solar system too, galaxies swirling around the room and lulling Yvie to sleep.

A sleep she’d have happily basked in forever if she hadn’t woken with a jolt the next morning, the sun beaming through the blinds to cast light on the empty side of the bed next to her.

“Morning,” Scarlet’s spoke from across the room, wearing a pair of glasses that Yvie had never seen before as she looked up from the papers at her desk. Yvie suddenly understood Scarlet’s constant examining gaze - she wasn’t scanning Yvie’s insides for error codes, just a tad bit blind.

Grabbing her phone from the bedside, a groan escaped Yvie’s mouth as she saw the time, of course, Scarlet was awake at nine in the morning after a night out. After what Yvie would estimate to be at least two hours of sex. Kind of intense sex. If it hadn’t been for Scarlet’s pretty face and messy hair then Yvie would have snatched the nearest pillow and thrown it over her head, instead, keeping an eye open to watch her whilst fighting exhaustion.

She wondered how long it would take them to address it. In the past, Yvie had never felt awkward discussing a hookup, giving a compliment or laughing it off as a drunken mishap like she had with Priyanka that time. The thought crossed her mind for a second, thinking she could make a joke about how smashed they were before ringing Brooke to take her home as fast as she could but Yvie decided against it. If Yvie was anything then Yvie was honest. And she knew what happened was not a drunken mistake. At least not on her end, she didn’t know if the same could be said for Scarlet, sat twiddling her pen around in her hand as though Yvie wasn’t lying in her bed and her gold dress wasn’t in a heap on the floor, thrown there in a moment of passion. Looking at it made her laugh, thinking of how fast she’d gone from describing Scarlet’s whining as the human equivalent of a dog whistle wit Jaida, to finding herself turned on by it. Scarlet must have noticed her looking, placing the pen down.

“I think you owe me a new zipper for that.” She pointed to the dress, raising a brow at Yvie.

“Sorry, I’ll take it to get fixed.” Yvie went to step out of bed before realising her own clothes were just as haphazardly spread as Scarlet’s.

“I’m kidding,” Scarlet smiled. “I’ll get you some joggers to borrow.”

“You own tracksuit bottoms?” Yvie fake gasped as Scarlet pulled open a drawer, surprising herself at how quickly they returned to their usual exchanges. There she was making fun of Scarlet for being all posh and dramatic, it was like nothing had changed. Except she was in Scarlet’s bed. Naked. And they’d had sex. Maybe a lot had changed.

“Oh my god, I just got it.” Scarlet pointed a finger to Yvie and let out one of her classic giggles. “That is hilarious.”

“What is?” Yvie pulled the clothes Scarlet had given her on quickly, automatically ready with her defence.

“That face you always pull at me! I honestly thought it was just your expression of pure hatred at my being but it’s not, you were eyeing me up!”

Yvie stifled a laugh at Scarlet’s hysteria, her cheeks turning the slightest bit red. “I don’t pull a face at you.”

“You so do. Like this.” Scarlet did her best to impersonate her.

“I don’t do that. And I don’t eye you up either, you’re so annoying.”

“Want me to prove you do?” Scarlet flipped the conversation and caught Yvie off guard.

She hadn’t expected round two to come at all nevermind that fast, but she most certainly wasn’t mad at it.

The same could have also been said for round three, which happened around a week later when Yvie just so happened to take her lunch break at the same time as Scarlet, following her out to her car and letting Scarlet drive a couple of minutes to somewhere more secluded. The sun beamed down through the windscreen and glistened on Scarlet’s pale skin as they moved together rapidly, the pair already becoming familiar with the little easter eggs that made each other tick.

“Ten minutes to spare, wow.” Yvie checked the time on her phone, allowing herself to lie back in as much comfort as she could given that she was in the back of a rather tiny car with a rather tall girl by her side.

“What are we doing?” Scarlet sat up, hitting her head slightly on the roof but not acknowledging it, a trait Yvie had picked up on before having watched Scarlet’s clumsy legs take many tumbles around the centre only for her to keep walking like it hadn’t happened (Yvie always found this funnier than the fall itself, especially that one time it was a running child that sent Scarlet tumbling, utterly priceless).

“Erm, lying in the back of your car trying to remember how to breathe?” Yvie knew it wasn’t the answer she was looking for but gave it nonetheless.

“No. This, us. What is this?”

Yvie wished she knew the answer. At first, she didn’t know how to approach her, bringing the borrowed clothes to work in a carrier bag ready to return, only to be left silent once Scarlet came to the counter to fulfil her caffeine addiction that day. But Scarlet managed to break the ice, making a subtle joke about her lack of regret as she took the bottle from Yvie’s hand. It was bittersweet - Yvie knew there was a clear distinction between having no regrets and wanting to do something again, and she was at least seventy per cent sure she wanted to do it again. Ninety-nine once the opportunity had finally risen again, Scarlet dangling her car keys in front of Yvie like the forbidden fruit of Eden. An apple she couldn’t help but take a bite from, no matter how much it would bite her back later.

So Yvie thought about her answer, she didn’t want to get this one wrong. The natural answer was that they were friends, only Yvie knew they weren’t. They were less than friends, they didn’t chat and gossip like friends and frankly she couldn’t stand Scarlet most of the time, the chatting and gossiping with her actual friends at work usually revolving around that fact. Yet they were also so much more, Yvie’s eyes followed the girl wherever she went like she was being guided home and her heart had just about snapped in two when she saw Scarlet upset.

Maybe it wasn’t Scarlet she hated but instead the way she felt about her. Or the way she didn’t even understand what that feeling was. Perhaps that is what she’d hated all along.

“I don’t know.” Yvie stepped outside to straighten her uniform and move to the passenger seat.

“You don’t know?” Scarlet joined her in the front, slamming her door a tad too hard once her foot was inside. “You always have an answer for everything.”

“Well, do you?” Yvie retaliated.

“I’m the one who asked in the first place!”

As much as she wanted to, Yvie couldn’t deny she had a point there.

“Well whatever it is, I’m glad to see we disagree on it already,” Yvie replied as Scarlet started to drive back to work.

“You can take me on a date sometime if you’d like.” Scarlet let the words jump out of her mouth quickly just before the traffic lights turned green, acting completely casual and nonchalant just like she had after hitting her head as if nothing had happened at all.

“A date?” Yvie’s voice raised an octave higher than it should have.

“You know where two people who kind of fancy each other go and get food? It’s a pretty basic term, I thought you’d know seen as you’re crazy clever and going to the best University in the country.”

Yvie choked on her water and sent it flying down the wrong way, a mess of coughs and splutters next to Scarlet’s pristine self. It wouldn’t have been the worst way to die, at least she’d never feel the embarrassment afterwards and have the dignity of knowing she’d given the girl a good time just before.

“I haven’t gotten in yet.” Yvie’s mind was thrown away from the conversation and back to the impending doom of her University application. Thank god she always had Scarlet to remind her of the massive feat she was trying to achieve.

“You can say no if you want, I don’t care.” Scarlet pulled into the car park, not really caring that her wheels were at a forty-five-degree angle and only just within the lines.

Yvie thought of all the times she had come up with convoluted methods to avoid Scarlet’s presence after their first meeting, of that first day she’d been given a lift home and how much had changed since then. Scarlet was confident and sometimes lived on a different planet to Yvie altogether but that didn’t hide her warmth, her wit or the big smile that came on her face whenever she tried to dance. And as much as she was shocked by her own thoughts, Yvie couldn’t deny that an evening with that warmth, wit and smile was all she really needed to relieve her stress.

“Well, where would you like to go for food then?” Yvie asked her as they entered the building, ready to part ways until the end of the day.

“Sorry, you’ll have to come up with that one on your own.” Scarlet grinned. “And please don’t fuck it up, Yvie.”

#rpdr fanfiction #if we walk down this road #got my number #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #scyvie #lesbian au #sixth form au #high school au #british au #enemies to lovers #black girl magic fic #diversity fic #ashley #tw references to racism and racial sterotypes #concrit welcome

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wazjunz · 4 years ago

Text

Cult of the Mongoose (Chapter 1)

“Dude… is he talking to his sandwich!?”

Raymond stole a glance at the boy beside him. Sam was small, even for a Year Eight. He had pale, sandy, nothing-coloured hair, mousey features, bony shoulders and tiny arms. And yes. As the older kid across the walkway has just pointed out, it did look a lot like he was whispering to his lunch. The older boy and his friend were only a few metres away, sitting on a bench on the other side of the concrete walkway connecting the Art department from English, but Sam seemed not to hear the comment. The small boy continued chewing; his cheese sandwich held close to his face. He chewed with his lips slightly open, and kept his eyes locked firmly on the sandwich, his eyebrows would raise and fall as he chewed.

“Oh my God, I think he is,” the older boy continued.

His friend shook his head and laughed. Raymond felt very vulnerable, dreading that the older boys would turn their attention to him next. Raymond put a lot of effort into being invisible, and he suddenly felt more exposed than usual. After waiting long enough that it wouldn’t seem like he had been scared off by the older boys’ comments, Raymond mumbled a goodbye to Sam and walked quickly away. Sam didn’t look up from his sandwich.

Raymond checked his watch. Damn it. He’d planned on spending longer with Sam before moving on. Sam sat alone in a quieter area, and was happy with almost no conversation, so Raymond could kill almost 20 minutes with Sam sometimes before he got too nervous and moved on. There was still forty minutes before Lunch ended. Most days Raymond could secure his favourite spot in the library before anyone else got there. There was a small corner with a low armchair, hidden between shelves, where he could hide out completely alone for an entire recess or lunch if he got there first, but today was a Wednesday. On Wednesdays before lunch he had Drama. Drama was in a demountable way out the back of the school and as far from the library as you could get. Today, by the time he got to his safe chair a couple of Year Tens were crammed into it, giggling and poking one-another while their Group slumped on the floor in the surrounding aisles, smirking knowingly, rolling their eyes at one another.

As he passed the Library doors Raymond considered checking his spot again, but he couldn’t risk it. If the Group hadn’t moved on they might spot him lurking again and call him a stalker, or worse, a Nigel. As in ‘Nigel-no friends’. Raymond put his head down and walked quickly through the crowd in the main quadrangle, past the snaking canteen lines, and out a side gate towards the basketball courts. Raymond didn’t like going near the basketball courts. That was where the second most intimidating group of Year Nines hung out. It was their Area. All the Groups had an Area. The basketball court was the sporty/ tough Year Nine’s Area. They were the biggest Group in Year Nine. The group consisted of two Sub-Groups. The sporty kids (identified more by their running shoes and Adidas track pants than actual sporting ability) and the tough kids, who liked to cultivate an air of delinquency, without ever actually getting into much trouble. The more affluent sporty kids enjoyed the danger and protection of the tougher sub-group, while the tougher sub-group used the prestige of the sporty kids to keep them from being identified with the socially undesirable ‘Dero’ group- who got in actual trouble.

Raymond was equally terrified by both basketball court Sub-Groups, so before he got too close to the courts he jogged down a slight hill to two demountables on the edge of the oval. The eroded, grassless patch of dirt between the demountables was one of his emergency, temporary back up havens when his spot in the library got taken. This was Gumbum’s Area.

Gumbum’s real name wasn’t Gumbum, but it was what everyone called him. Gumbum was bigger and louder than the most confident Year 12, but not for any reason that anyone could figure out. He was shaped like a giant bowling pin, and moved like a T-rex. He had a meaty butt and legs, but stood with a slouch that made his shoulders look disproportionately small. The entire Year thought he was an idiot, and not without justification. Gumbum found himself very funny, and cracked jokes and laughed loudly at himself during class. Often the jokes were references to some wierd Japanese animation series that no one else had seen. Every single one fell flat. Gumbum was permanently unfazed though, and either didn’t mind or didn’t notice that his company was seen as social suicide by his entire year group. Without friends his own age, Gumbum simply found like-minded weirdos from younger Years, and cavorted with them joyously in this strange Area between the demountables. Gumbum was a semi-safe ally for Raymond for two reasons. Firstly, because most other Year Nines gave him a wide berth, Raymond was usualy safe from bumping into anyone scary while in Gumbum’s proximity. Secondly, Gumbum was so big and loud, and unashamedly dorky, that Raymond felt that if he was spotted with him he might look vaguely normal in comparison.

Raymond heard Gumbum laughing like an excitable fog horn before he rounded the corner of the first demountable. The man-sized 14-year-old had two Year Seven boys clinging onto each of his legs, and one on each arm, while a weasly-looking Year 8 threw popcorn into his open, guffawing mouth. It was unclear what exactly the game was or how it hard started, but it was exactly the sort of thing Gumbum and his tiny friends seemed to be doing all the time. Raymond leaned awkwardly against the side of the demountable out of the way of the action. He tried not to smile, but the sight was pretty great. Gumbum had stumbled under the weight of the tiny Year Sevens and had one smooshed up agianst the demoutnable wall squealing, while the rest still clung on giddily. The Year Eight continued hocking handfuls of popcorn into Gumbum’s snapping jaws. Suddenly Gumbum threw his head back, spraying popcorn kernels into the air. “THIS. ENDS. NOOOOOOW!”, he yelled to the sky. Year sevens were suddenly flying off his thrashing limbs, crashing to the rocky ground, gasping with pain and laughter. Gumbum turned and saw Raymond standing awkwardly near the corner of the demountable.

“Oh, Hello Raymond,” he said.

Gumbum made a point of knowing the name of every Year Nine, and a good smattering of the older and younger students’ names. He would use everyone’s names like they were close friends, much to the discomfort of his peers, who didn’t like the implication that they were on speaking terms with the most obvious weirdo in the year. Another reason Raymond sometimes sought out Gumbum in a pinch was that, just like Sam, hanging out with Gumbum meant Raymond barely had to say a word, although (very much unlike Sam) this was because Gumbum never shut up. Gumbum had figured out at some point that Raymond watched Dragon Ball Z, so whenever they crossed paths he would launch quickly into long monologues about hypothetical fights between characters and intricate plot points he had important thoughts about. Having a loud conversation outing him as a Dragon Ball Z watching type was not something that appealed to Raymond at all in the hallways and classrooms generally, but in the near-panic of a library-less lunch time, and in the relative safety between the demountables next to the oval it was a trusty way to eat up some time. Today even that fallback was ruined though. Gumbum had barely started ramping up when a basketball slammed into the wall above their heads and flumped to the dirt near his feet. Gumbum jumped to pick it up and walked out from between the buildings to hand it to an exercise flushed Year nine girl chasing it down the hill.

“Here you go Kellie!,” he said.

Raymond looked at his feet and slid his back along the wall, trying to blend in to the shadows as the girl approached, but he saw her see him, her eyes flicking momentarily between him and Gumbum. She took the ball quickly, forcing a polite smile from the corners of her mouth, before sprinting back up the hill to her friends.

“See you Kellie!” Gumbum called after her.

Spooked, Raymond half raised his hand to Gumbum in a tiny wave, and mumbled “OK, seeya man,” before striding quickly back toward the main school buildings.

Raymond checked his watch again. Only ten minutes had passed since he left Sam. He still had 30 minutes to kill. There was nowhere to sit and hide on his own without it being obvious he was alone, but he could only do so many laps of the school without that looking weird. He had one more option, but it wasn’t one he liked. He took the longest path he could to stairwell near the Art block, walking as slowly as possible without it looking like he was walking slower than a non-weird person would walk.

The entire school, (with the exception a couple of newer buildings) was carpeted in old frayed astroturf coloured carpet. The strairway leading up to the Art classrooms had the added affect of being speckled with droplets of old paint and stomped bits of clay that couldn’t be cleaned out, making it look like a slime clogged waterfall. The stairway changed directions half-way up, where a wobbly old table lived in the corner next to a window peeling with year’s old red and black paint. The table was Ryan’s spot. The corridor at the top of the stairwell was claimed by another large group of Year Nines, somewhere around the middle of the social ladder, running a distant third behind the Populars and the Sport/Tough Groups. Ryan was probably technically part of that group, but his arrogance and moodiness meant that as often as not he put himself in self-imposed, attention seeking exile on the wobbly desk in the stairwell, rather than deigning to hang out with lower life forms. This set up worked well enough for Raymond as Ryan’s volatile moods kept others away, and made him ill-disposed to making jokes and small talk, which Raymond’s panic stricken brain struggled to keep up with.

The other good thing about Ryan was his MP3 player. He had the only one in school. It was white with a greenish backlight and circular touch dial that let you scroll through songs, and the songs were good. Sometimes, rarely, Ryan would let Raymond take an ear bud and listen to half a song. Once he let him have both headphones and scroll through the tracks himself. Ryan was smart and he had cool and interesting taste in music. Unfortunately he was also pretty much one hundred percent not a nice person. Ryan had something mean to say about everyone and everything. He wore a permanent scowl and was always picking at his fingernails like he was punishing them for something. He was also incredibly moody, and could switch from having an interesting conversation to insulting your mum without warning or reason. Raymond found the fact that Ryan already acted like he hated him oddly comforting, but spending more than a few minutes with Ryan always felt odd and uncomfortable. Raymond approached Ryan and leaned on the window with his shoulder. Ryan looked up and pulled out one of his earbuds.

“What.” He said.

“Nah, nothing,” Raymond mumbled. “What you listening to?” Ryan sighed dramatically.

“The Swerves” he said.

“Oh cool. I haven’t heard of them.” Raymond replied.

“Why did you say they’re cool then?”

“Oh, I dunno. The name sounds cool…”

“Uh-huh.”

Ryan stared at Raymond with his ice blue eyes, eyebrows raised.

“How many songs can you get on there?,” Raymond asked.

Ryan rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling.

“Maybe like 50. I dunno, depends on the songs.”

“Cool. That’s pretty cool. That’s like three or four full albums.”

“Yep. I guess.”

Another awkward silence ensued.

“Is that all?” Ryan said abruptlky. “Like, did you want something or did you just come up here to stand there like a weirdo and tell me you like my MP3 player?”

“Oh, yeah. No. Anyway. Seeya.” Raymond replied, starting to move away back down the stairs.

“Ok. bye. Die in fire,” Ryan said in pretend cheerfulness to Raymonds back.

Ryan said that to everyone. It was like his stand in for any normal phrase he didn’t feel like saying, and he seemed to drop it almost without realizing. Once he said it to a teacher, almost certainly by accident, but he got in big trouble. By Ryan standards the conversation had been a mild success, but it hadn’t taken much time. Raymond checked his watch again. With 15 long minutes still to kill and no other loner allies to visit Raymond did the only thing he could think of and headed back towards the library.

Recently Raymond had started to feel as though he could sense when his Spot was taken and when it was free. As he neared the library he got a hopeful feeling in his stomach and tentatively started to believe that he might get 15 minutes of safe time in his spot with a pile of books before the bell rang for fifth period. He dodged a screaming group of Year Sevens and slipped through the heavy swinging door into the relative quiet. The library was split into three levels. The ground floor was shaped like a big square with the middle cut out. To Raymond’s right and behind him was the borrowing counter, and staff area. The rest of the square was ringed with clumps of desks with four or five chairs grouped around them, and the walls were covered with laminated posters that looked like they’d gone up when she school was built 30 years before. A few groups of students sat at some of the tables. This area was brightly lit by fluorescent lights. In the centre of this square the floor dropped downa couple of metres, making a sort of sunken area ringed by large steps that could double as a sort of in door ampitheatre for classes or presentations. Technically book-wise this was the Young Adult section. One low shelf in the sunken square had a jumble of crappy graphic novels and busted up surfing magazines thrown in it. Most of them were terrible old Asterix comics, and similar things, so Raymond rarely ventured down to look. In two corners those round stand-up spinning book stands held piles of thin paperback novels in bright colours. No one really seemed to ever read or borrow any of them, but Raymond had learned from the giggles and not-very-covert whispers of groups of students that two or three has nudity or sex scenes in them. It was easy to tell which ones they were because they were very beat up. Especially a yellow one, that apparently had a part about two guys doing something in it, and bore the scars of being dropped into the laps of unsuspecting young male victims, and subsequently hurled across the room while their friends cackled.

Raymond’s spot was in the ‘mezzanine’, which was the same shape as the ground floor, but up a flight of stairs in front of the borrowing desk, and with a balcony looking down over the Young Adult section. The mezzanine was where most of the books were. Dirty skylights gave the whole area an otherworldly, hazy, gloaming glow. Two rows of massive beige metal shelves ran down each side of the square. Raymond had the sections highlighted in his brain. Right at the top of the stairs was Sport (gross), which morphed into science (meh), and turned into religion (shrug) in the back right corner. Turning down the back side of the square took you through Art and Design (cool), then history (rad), and finally, Raymond’s favourite, the weird stuff.

Raymond’s spot was a low, cushioned armchair with heavy black metal legs covered in squeaky off-white vinyl, tucked in an alcove, and nearly completely out of view until you walked right past it. The chair faced directly onto Raymond’s favourite shelf. Althought he would often grab a couple of massive art and history books (he especially liked the gigantic Encycolpedia of Modern Military Uniforms), the vast majority of his attention always went to the metre-and-a-half bottom shelf across from his Spot. An old yellow sticker on the shelf at this section read “Paranormal/ unexplained/ horror.” It was a treasure trove of off-putting descrioptions, heart-pounding eyewitness accounts and creepy illustrations. Fifty minutes outside of the library was an age, but a lunchtime spent in his Spot seemed to Raymond like a fleeting moment. He always pulled out way more books that he had time to look through in one sitting. He’d stack the big ones near his feet, balance the smallest on the arms of the chair, and pack the hefty medium sixed hard covers next to his thighs. He loved the books for their stories and ideas and pictures, and their ability to transport him to another world, and raise the hairs on the back of his neck, but he also loved the feel of them. The weight in his hand. The way the thick plastic p[rotecting the covers gave a moved under his fingers as he swung the tomes in his hand down the aisle. The books were his real allies.

About half way up the steps to the mezzanine, a glimpsed view under the shelves showed Raymond that his feeling was correct. The entire floor seemed deserted now. He jogged the last few steps and set off towards his spot. With 15 minutes left he could still flick through a couple of his favourite books. He was rounding the Religion corner, and mentally shortlisting which books he would pull down, when he nearly walked into a Year Ten coming the other way. The boy was tall, a little pudgy, and smiling over his shoulder as he joked with a Year ten girl walking just behind him. Both he and Raymond stopped abruptly to avoid a collision. Raymond froze, and the tall boy did a short double take as he recognised that he recongised Raymond.

“Oh, hey Ray,” the Year Ten said.

“Hey man,” Raymond replied, not knowing where to look.

“How you been dude? You sort of disappeared on us hey.”

Raymond knew he needed to reply quickly but his brain was doing what it always did in this kind of situation. He felt like his mind had turned into spaghetti, and his thoughts were going too slow and too fast at once.

The tall boy was Cameron. He and Raymond were best friends from the start of primary school until the middle of Year 6, when Raymond moved away for a few years. When he came back to his home town, Raymonds mum had decided that it was time to make up for a mistake she felt she had made in sending him to school too early, when he was just a little kid. Raymond was smart, but he had alwaus been a little immature and social stilted compared to others in his year, so when his family moved back to town after being away, Raymonds mum told him he would be doing Year 9 again. Raymond didn’t kick up a stink. Raymond never did that. He did worry that people who remembered him from primary school would be at this high school though. There were only two big public high schools in town, and he felt sick about having to explain to people who recognized him from primary school why he was now in the shameful category of people who had to repeat a year. Cameron’s family lived just around the corner from Raymond’s family home, which they’d moved back to when they came back to town. He’d caught up with Cameron once before school went back (Raymond’s mum had called Cameron’s and set it up without telling Raymond). It was a little awkward at first, but Raymond had always liked Cameron, and even found his mum and his older brother Kim easier to talk to than most people. That day they ate Cameron’s mum’s ‘Specialty’ pizza (plain wraps with melted cheese and tomato paste) in front of the TV and pretty soon things seemed more or less like they’d been years ago. Raymond didn’t tell Cameron he was repeating. On the first day of school Cameron and his brother came out of their house as Raymond was walking past. It was about a half hour walk to school. Raymond was nervous but Cameron and Kim were both super funny and smart. The brothers talked about big ideas and local urban legends and people they knew. Cameron almost never stopped talking, Kim chimed in when he could with a dark joke or a witty comment, and Raymond followed along not saying much, but grinning and laughing along.

When they got to the school gates (massive spiked things swung open from a tall barbed-wire-topped fence) Raymond hesitiated. Cameron grabbed the handle of Raymond’s school bag and playfully tugged it as he strode towards his group’s Area.

“Come on man, you can sit with us,” he said.

The cracks started to show even on that first day though. Cameron’s group were really nice, and interesting. They were basically six boys who sat on the big steps outside Food Tech, but they had a sort of mirror group across from them which was mostly girls, and the two sort of orbited one another, coming together and drifting apart like a tidal inlet. Cameron introduced Raymond around. One of the other boys remembered Raymond from primary school, and for a while Raymond was able to blend happily into the background of the conversation. Predictably the talk soon went to subjects and timetables and who had which teachers this year. Someone asked Raymond what class he was in for Maths and his brain went to mush. Cameron noticed Raymond struggling to explain and intervned.

“Nah Ray’s actually Year 9, so he’s going to have his own hell to figure out haha.”

Raymond noticed a confused look brush over the face of the guy who he’s gone to school with previously. And them moments later a look of shrewd understanding. Raymond was outed as a repeater. No one said anything, and Raymond kept hanging out with Cameron’s group, in that Area for the first two weeks of school, but he was constantly worried that someone would say something about him being a Year 9 hanging out with Year 10s. Inter-year hanging out wasn’t really done. People mostly stuck with their own year group, and Raymond felt like other Year Nines were starting to notice that he sat with Year Tens as well, which made him worried that he would have to explain to more people that he had to repeat. He wasn’t connecting with anyone in his classes either (except for weird, co-loner interactions with Sam, Gumbum and Ryan). He wondered whether the other Year Nine’s thought he was weird- and that hanging out with Cameron’s group was adding to it. Slowly, Raymond started to spend some lunch times in the library. In the fourth week of term he found his Spot, and the shelf of awesome books. He started sneaking to the library right after class, every other lunch time and recess. The more time he spent way from the group the more awkward he felt when he did show up, so by the sixth week of term he started going to the library whenever he could, and avoiding Cameron’s group all together. He never spoke to Cameron about it, and started leaving for school as late as possible, to avoid being on the same schedule as Cameron and Kim. He just didn’t know how to explain, and was worried about offending Cameron, so he pulled his usual move and avoided anything scary or hard.

Now, about three months after he’d weirdly dropped out of Cameron’s fold, they’d come face to face, mere metres from Raymond’s hiding place. Raymond realised with horror that he hadn’t replied to Cameron’s question yet. He laughed nervously and looked at his feet.

Cameron gave him a slightly confused look. His friend walked around the pair.

“You coming Cam?” she said.

“Yep,” Cam replied, still looking at Raymond. “Come hang out again some time man. If you want. I’ve got some books you’d like. Crazy shit. You can borrow them… OK, seeya man.”

Cameron caught up with his friend and disappeared down the stairs. Raymond dragged the pads of his fingers on his right hand down the right side of his face, in a hard repetitive motion. It was a sort of tick he had when he really felt like he’d stuffed up, which was a lot of the time.

He walked to his spot, grabbed as big a handful of books as he could from his favourite shelf and dumped them on his lap as he sunk into the squawking vinyl. Suddenly he found he couldn’t muster the energy to open any of them. He sat, staring at nothing for the remaining ten minutes until the bell.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the windows in the library doors as he left and noticed that the right hand side of his face was all red.

#periodical #fiction #paranormal

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tenderflint · 4 years ago

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mid year 2020 book tag

tagged by @hestiea :)

Best book you’ve read so far in 2020:

the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay by michael chabon. wow this feels like ages ago, i read this in jan/feb i think? anyway i was really captivated by this book and i want to read more of chabon’s novels.

Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2020:

as a rule i actively avoid reading series but i did re-read his dark materials by philip pullman, which, the second book of that series is actually the worst? but it was, i suppose, by definition a sequel? anyway. moving on.

New release you haven’t read yet, but want to:

i’m generally oblivious to new releases but i have been meaning to read on earth we’re briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong since it came out and i read about it in the new yorker, marking the one and only time i paid attention to new releases and ‘recommended reading’ etc.

Most anticipated release for the second half of the year:

again, i really don’t know what’s slated to be released this year. i really couldn’t tell you. hm..don’t know how to answer this one. sorry!

Favorite new author (debut or new to you):

i read home fire by kamila shamsie and deeply enjoyed her style. in theory i definitely want to read more of her work but in practice this will simply not happen because my reading whims are constantly changing oops

Biggest disappointment:

actually the first book i read this year, the idiot by elif batuman. i suppose simply a classic case of not living up to the hype. i read so many rave reviews from friends and press alike and i just...didn’t get it i guess. it was fine and enjoyable but nothing life-changing.

Biggest surprise:

cereus blooms at night by shani mootoo. i read this for a class and it didn’t seem particularly interesting to me, but i ended up loving it. a really fantastic novel that addresses race, gender, lgbt identity, colonialism, and how the marginalized make their own extra-societal community, plus some beautiful nature motifs. i should add– physical and sexual abuse are a significant part of this novel, so tw for that.

Book that made you happy:

we both laughed in pleasure: the selected diaries of lou sullivan. i don’t read much nonfiction but i found this book at powell’s and took ages to read it but then proceeded to devour it in less than a week. like it says on the tin, it’s a selection of the diaries of lou sullivan, one of the first openly gay trans men and a gay/trans/aids activist. it’s funny, raunchy, honest, and heartbreaking, and very interesting from a personal as well as a lgbt historical perspective.

Newest fictional crush/newest favorite character:

i guess i don’t really think about characters this way? but i re-read the secret history and it’s true what they say: the older you get the more you realize judy poovey is actually the best person in that book. ms. tartt please write the judy poovey spinoff novella.

Book that made you cry:

well i don’t really cry period because i’m repressed but i did get emotional at the end of the amber spyglass by philip pullman do not @ me !!!!!

Favorite book to film adaptation you saw this year:

ohhhhhh man i finally got around to watching children of men. oh man. i’m gonna contradict my last answer because i cried very large, very real tears at that movie. holy shit. a fantastic film that really hits different in 2020.

Most beautiful book you’ve bought or received this year so far:

i wouldn’t go so far as to call them ‘beautiful’ but the covers of home fire by kamila shamsie and the pale king by d*vid f*ster w*llace are very nice

Book you need to read by the end of the year:

look if i felt like i ‘needed’ to read certain books by the end of the year i would be in a constant panic because my to-read list is massive and ever-growing and subject to daily whims. but. i will say that i need to make a concerted effort to read more work by black writers and i want to read some more radical texts as well.

i’ll tag uhhhh @notkatniss and @jarchivistsims and seriously anyone who sees this and wants to do it, do it! and tag me!! i just don’t know who reads on this site lmao

#long post #tagged #thanks emma!#ari rambles

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johannesviii · 5 years ago

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Top 12 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2012

We’ve now entered the first year in a trio of fantastic years for hit songs, so yeah, it’s a top 12.

You won’t like some entries on this particular list.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

Still working in Paris in 2012. Getting rapidly fed up with that. In constant stress to pay the rent because the landlord is bad and refuses to pay for stuff he should actually be responsible for in the flat. Other than that? Life was pretty good. “Having Money(tm)” meant being able to actually eat decent food and my health started to improve. Also I adopted a cat. That’s also the year I discovered the French branch of the SCP Foundation and started to contribute a lot to it. I also made this Tumblr blog!

I subscribed to a magazine called Elegy which always came with a music sample, which was great to discover new and vaguely obscure stuff.

Quite a lot of notable albums that year: Some Nights by fun., Night Visions by Imagine Dragons, Monkey Me by Mylène Farmer, Living Things by Linkin Park (with poorly chosen singles unfortunately imho), Revelations by mind.in.a.box., Babel by Mumford & Sons, Neverworld’s End by Xandria, and most importantly, the dreamy and emotional Valtari by Sigur Ros and the dark and excellent Hide & Seek by The Birthday Massacre (even though my year was mostly ruled by Automatic (VNV Nation) that came out the previous year in 2011). Actually having money meant I could finally own the albums I had wanted for years, and you can bet the fact that I owned zero The Birthday Massacre albums even though I had loved their stuff since 2008 was quickly rectified.

Nothing too annoying as far as non-elligible songs go this time, apart from the fact that more stuff from Mylo Xyloto (Coldplay) should have charted higher, and that I kinda regret the absence of La Vie Est Belle by MC Solaar. Not even sure I would have put it on the list, but still, great song.

Honorable mentions first!

Dusty Men (Saule) - Nothing to say about this. Pretty cool.

Young And Wild And Free (Snoop Dog) - That is a super chill and nice song.

Happy (C2C) - At the time, my brother was part-time DJ and opened a gig for these guys, and I was so proud of him! And I was also really glad to see some of their songs become hits. Very good stuff.

Midnight City (M82) - Borderline annoying or very good, depending on my mood.

Burn It Down (Linkin Park) - As I said, my opinion is that the singles from that album were poorly chosen, and Castle of Glass should have been the first one because let’s face it, that song is fantastic. Burn it Down isn’t bad at all, though.

Glad You Came (The Wanted) - I love how this song is written and it’s a lot of fun to hear every sentence starting with the end of the previous one.

I Cry (Flo Rida) - A ton of energy, very propulsive song.

Domino (Jessie J) - There’s a shit ton of weird metaphors in there but it’s still a very solid song.

Princess of China (Coldplay ft Rihanna) - I know I keep going on and on about Mylo Xyloto and how weird it was that the biggest hits from the album weren’t at all its best songs, but still, that’s really good stuff.

Ho Hey (The Lumineers) - The last cut from the list. This song is adorable and always puts me in a good mood. It’s so cute it almost feels mean to leave it out of this top. It’s also elligible for 2013 but I had even less room on that list, so...

And now, a top 12.

12 - Diamonds (Rihanna)

US: #94 / FR: #5

Was considering leaving it out of the list, decided there was no way I could leave it out, realised there was no room left, and added a slot. Welcome to a top 12 instead of 10. But yeah, love that song even if it’s no longer on my playlist nowadays.

11 - Bangarang (Skrillex)

US: Not on the list / FR: #92

Yes.

The other reason this list was turned into a top 12 was to put Skrillex on it.

I’m not even remotely sorry.

Make fun of dubstep all you like, that track is an explosion of sharp colors and edges, like an audio version of edgy street art. It’s almost impossible for me to listen to it without miming the shapes of the sound with energetic gestures and some hand-flapping. Perfect stim music.

10 - Die Young (Kesha)

US: #85 / FR: #78

This is no Take It Off but it’s the next best thing available, and it’s catchy and has a lot of fun little details (like the dirty socks line), and also, unlike the previous two, it’s still on my mp3 player, so yeah, 10th spot is fair. I love a party song with some sort of apocalyptic mindset.

9 - Skyfall (Adele)

US: Not on the list / FR: #2

I usually don’t give a damn about James Bond movies but I sincerely loved that one, with its stakes becoming smaller and smaller and more personal as the story progressed, and most importantly, it had some visually striking colors near the end, and this wonderful, wonderful song. As I already said about the previous Adele song, I only like slow, emotional songs when there’s some energy behind them or at least some sort of dramatic atmosphere, and boy that’s some quality Drama(tm) right there.

8 - A l’Ombre (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #86

If C’est Une Belle Journée was the “last great Mylène Farmer song”, A l’Ombre might just be her best single released post 2003, at least imho. It’s only #8 because the general quality of hit songs in 2012 was insanely high, otherwise it would be way higher.

It’s about losing your identity and as you might already know I’m a sucker for that theme ; also the music video features Olivier de Sagazan, an artist who puts layers of clay, paint and mud on his own head and body to sculpt new faces, and it’s disturbing in all the best ways (obvious body horror tw for the link even if it’s clay and very abstract. Also there’s wolves. I’m just saying because I have one friend who’s scared of them).

7 - Thrift Shop (Macklemore)

US: Not on the list (#1 the very next year obviously) / FR: #7

Finally, a song about my favorite type of clothes: the cheap, comfy, unfashionable ones. With a great beat! And really fun lyrics! And a great music video! And a couple of actually insightful lines! Can’t even imagine how happy I would have been if this had dropped 3 years earlier back in university when I was still called “the hobo”.

I was still wearing that same old black coat from 2006 in 2012, mind you.

6 - Lights (Ellie Goulding)

US: #5 / FR: Not on the list

This song looks fantastic and, just like Fireflies by Owl City which to me looks exactly like fireflies flying in the night, it’s incredibly satisfying to hear a song titled “Lights” which looks like a series of pulsing semi-distant lights in the dark.

5 - We Are Young (fun.)

US: #3 / FR: #21

As far as favorite bands go, the 2000s charts gave me Linkin Park, Placebo, The Killers and My Chemical Romance. The 2010s charts were a bit less generous and only gave me fun., who’s own arrogance killed them right when they were at the top of their game and that’s nothing short of a tragedy considering how f█cking good their few hit songs were.

I guess your band either dies a hero, or it lives long enough to see itself become Imagine Dragons.

Oh well. At least we had some of the best songs (if not the best) of the 2010s while they were there.

4 - Turn Me On (David Guetta ft Nicki Minaj)

US: #35 / FR: #57

Ooooooh I bet some of you are furious this is placed 5 slots above Adele.

Listen. You know I love dance music, especially when it’s aggressive or with a darker edge. And yeah, that sounded like a lost Benassi Bros track, and it had a great (but way too short) rap bridge. You also know how literal-minded I am. So when I first heard Nicki Minaj’s voice with a ton of electronic distorsion saying “Make me come alive, come on and turn me on”, I didn’t picture anything sexy, but a robot. I’d rather pretend songs are about interesting things instead of generic supposedly sexy club anthems.

PLOT TWIST! As it turns out, the music video, instead of featuring some generic club stuff, featured everything I wanted and more: a weird, steampunk world of robots in which an inventor just created an android that looks way more alive than all the previous ones, and they all become jealous, and break his door down. With an axe.

Framing is everything. I absolutely love it. What a gift.

3 - It’s Time (Imagine Dragons)

US: #91 / FR: Not on the list

Believe it or not, I used to love Imagine Dragons. I still love the album Night Visions, which, apart from a couple of duds (like Demons, which is dreadful), is damn good. I don’t know what happened after that. I really don’t. Everything became slow, and heavy, and kind of boring. It worked fine for Radioactive, because that was a post-apocalyptic song, but when you try to apply the same formula to motivational songs, it simply doesn’t work.

Oh well. At least, for now, there was It’s Time. The music video, with people walking through a wasteland, is the perfect imagery for that song. Rebuild something new, but don’t change who you are. Things might get broken, but we’ll make art with them. We’ll plant trees over the graves of people who burnt them. Positive pessimism only, lads.

2 - Good Time (Owl City & Carly Rae Jepsen)

US: #38 / FR: #40

The most innocent song about parties ever written. It IS always a good time when you listen to it. It reminded me of the parties at the campus at my job training the previous year, where we’d make dumb contests like “best disguise but if you buy anything you’re disqualified” and I made Freddy Krueger claws in papercraft and a friend won with his “emperor Nero” disguise which was basically a toga made with his bed sheets, a crown made with ivy he found outside, and him looking incredibly punchable on purpose.

It’s an incredibly cute song, it never outstays its welcome, always puts me in a good mood AND gives me some much needed energy. You already know I loved Owl City to begin with, even if I wanted him to have way more hit songs, and Carly Rae Jepsen was going to end on my playlist eventually, with several fantastic future songs. I’m glad this was a hit. They both deserved it.

1 - Some Nights (fun.)

US: #14 / FR: Not on the list (why. how. f█ck off)

There’s drums! There’s ‘woho-woho’s! There’s guitars! It’s a perfect pop-rock earworm that never ever gets annoying! There’s a goddamn solo made with an autotuned version of the singer yelling “aaaaaaa”!! What more can you possibly want from a hit song?

I’m saying this right now: this is my favorite elligible hit song of the entire decade. Spoilers, I know. The #1s for 2013 and 2014 both come really close, but they aren’t as anthemic as this one. What did we do to deserve something this f█cking good in that day and age? I have no clue, but clearly, we didn’t deserve more of that, because these guys split up very quickly.

Anyone know some kind of magic spell to bring them back for an encore?

Next up: The Year When Just About Everyone Dropped An Excellent Album

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post

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lallemcnt · 5 years ago

Text

go ahead and watch my heart burn (part five/final)

can be read on ao3

"It's impossible." said pride. "It's risky." said experience. "It's pointless." said reason. "Give it a try." whispered the heart.

What am I doing?

Lucas brushes down the front of his blue long-sleeved shirt with agitated hands. He doesn’t know what to wear, is he overdressed or underdressed? When he asked what he should wear all Eliott said was semi-casual, but Lucas didn’t have a clue what that meant. Could he still wear his trainers and jeans if he wore this shirt? It was ridiculous, really, how worked up he was getting but he doesn't want to embarrass Eliott. He wants to be the perfect supportive boyfriend this evening. Boyfriend. Just that simple word makes the butterflies in his stomach fluctuate.

Smoothing back his hair he wishes he owned gel or something to style it. He checks himself out once more in the mirror: blue shirt with the first two buttons undone — not as daring as Eliott, black slim-fitting jeans and black adidas he’s owned for years, but has become adept at keeping in good condition. This will have to do, he thinks. He snaps a photo and sends it to Yann for approval before slipping on his blue bomber, wrapping his scarf around his neck and entering the chilly October evening of Paris.

The lamps are lit, leaves dust the streets in piles of oranges and browns, signs that Autumn is in full bloom. Bicycles zoom past him, adults sit outside cafes, bundled up in thick jumpers and boots, and he’s breathing in that cool air and basking in the dusk of eight p.m. There is something about Autumn that sings of fresh starts, layering up against the brisk wind and bitter air, the tang of hot chocolate and burnt tongues, cold fingers, the excitement of the spooky season, gearing up for pumpkin carving and house parties full of wasted teens.

Burying his hands in his pockets his breaths puff out visibly before him, sinking into the air like steam off a hot drink, and he is thankful that he wore a scarf at least. Thankful that in and amongst his anxiety and paranoia about the evening, he had enough brain cells left to protect himself against the cold.

Today at 20:15

yann: hot stuff lulu

Lucas rolls his eyes before pocketing his phone and looking up at the building before him. It’s nothing overtly artistic, it blends in with the shops on either side of it. Weirdly, it reminds Lucas of Grimmauld Place in Harry Potter, throwing him back to times spent at Yann’s watching all seven films straight without breaks. That thought, at least, calms him somewhat. He stands in the shadows not daring to step into the light just yet. He takes several deep breaths in, reassuring himself that he will be fine, he’s here for Eliott and his love for him can eclipse his anxiety for the night. He can do this.

He ponders texting Eliott to tell him he’s arrived but stops because Eliott is probably talking to other people, engaging in conversations with kindred spirits who know art. Lucas doesn’t know shit about art. He can look at a photo, a painting or sculpture and appreciate its beauty or vulgarity and deduce his own interpretations, but that’s it. He decides that he will not speak to anyone about the exhibition because he will undoubtedly make a complete idiot of himself. So when he steps inside from the night into a brightly lit room, the contrast to the night outside dazzling him for a second, he unwraps his scarf and takes his jacket off, moving towards the table of mini bites. Eating he can do, and well, but interacting with people, let alone those from completely different stratospheres, is not his forte. He wishes he had invited Arthur along with him, someone he could be comfortably uncomfortable with until Eliott is less busy.

He accepts an offer of champagne from an inscrutable looking man in all black, tucking his coat and scarf in his elbow. He glances around noticing painted portraits and landscapes set against bleach-white walls, a wall has been erected in the middle of the space, and children race round it, trailing their coats behind them to shrieks of laughter which melt into the background of the music filtering in through small speakers. Lucas doesn’t recognise it, the music that is, but it fits the scene: artists and art and educated people knowing what they’re talking about. He can decipher a light piano melody and the strings of a guitar, it must be something indie he concludes.

Already he feels negative thoughts clouding his mind: Why are you even here? You don’t know shit. Everyone knows you’re a fraud. Everyone is looking at you and laughing. Normally these thought spirals last for a while, he will reassure himself, tell himself that he’s being irrational, that no one is looking at him, that they are more interested in the art. He will be fine for five minutes then the thoughts will attack again like a vicious viper, poisoning his thoughts and no antidote is strong enough to stave off the anxiety for long. But, this evening is not about him, and he is really trying to be more positive. He keeps Eliott in his mind and his breathless excitement over the phone when he called to confirm with Lucas, to ensure Lucas would definitely be there. Lucas bottles that voice and plays it on repeat, tucking it against his heart in the little nook Eliott has carved for himself there.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucas notices someone looking over at him and he debates engaging in inane conversation or turning away and pretending to be interested in the food. He goes with option two, picking up a vegan sausage roll and biting into it, but he’s miscalculated and his glass testers out of his hand and he’s imagining the fantastic shatter and the heads turning and the silence and his stomach is dropping, but the glass never meets the floor.

“Fuck-”

“Here you go.”

Lucas looks into deep brown eyes, framed by tortoise-shell glasses and light-brown hair. “Thank you.”

“I saw you struggling a bit there...you know there’s a cloakroom, right?”

“Um. Apparently not.”

Laughter and then, “Follow me. I’ll show you where it is.”

Lucas puts down his glasses, shoves the rest of the sausage roll and follows the retreating back of the girl who saved his ass tonight.

They end up in a room just off the main one, and Lucas notices it is a lot cooler out here, what is it about museums and no air conditioning? He swears he could sweat a foundation within the hour. The girl gestures to a row of coats and jackets hanging suspended from seemingly nothing until Lucas hangs his own one up with his scarf and feels a metal bar holding them in place.

“Thanks again. Seriously. Eternally grateful.”

She’s smiling, the girl, hands clasped behind her back. “So, who are you?”

Lucas’ eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Is there some guest list or something because no one was out the front-”

The girl is laughing now, hair falling forward into her face. “No, I didn’t mean that. Are you a fellow artist or?”

“Oh,” Lucas feels his cheeks grow warm. “Definitely not. You?”

“No, just here for the free booze and food, and my sister’s work is being shown so there’s also that.”

Lucas can’t help but smile. “Yeah, there’s that.”

“Wanna get some more bubbly?”

He learns her name is Ashley, that she studies at the École Normale de Musique de Paris, that she is boisterous and is incredible at impressions. They begin by eating some of the nibbles followed by a glass of cheap bubbly that is decidedly not champagne. They drift around the room, beginning at the far wall on the right observing black-white portraits both painted and photographed; they read the labels affixed to the wall on the right-side of each art piece, noting the artists, the name of the piece and the description of what is being shown. They stand up straight, perfect postures, and move onto the next piece which rings familiar to Lucas, reminding him of impressionist paintings which he quite likes. See, while Lucas is not an expert, he knows Monet, because Manon has a rendition of his water lilies on her bedroom wall — this recognition lifts his confidence a bit. They stop at a sculpture, a body encased in a cage, almost serpent-like, limbs extended and curved in an oval shape — made from clay. Lucas drops his head on Ashley’s shoulder and they stare at this body for a while until she is called away by her sister, they hug and say goodbye. This is where Lucas is when he sees him.

The atmosphere instantly changes for Lucas; he feels less alone, less like an idiot, he feels the room brighten infinitesimally and wonders if that’s some affect of the exhibition, but soon knows, viscerally, that that’s just the affect Eliott has on him. He is a work of art all in himself; Lucas could stare at him all day.

Eliott is in a green turtle neck and black slacks, rolled and cuffed just above the ankles. Hair artfully messy, un-styled.

Lucas turns away as if that will stop Eliott from noticing him, as if Eliott wouldn’t recognise him in a crowd of short white boys with long brown hair.

“Hey!”

“Hi.” Lucas says shyly.

In an alternative reality he would run up and jump into Eliott’s arms, squeezing him to his chest, sigh into his warmth and kiss him right on the lips. Alas, this is not another universe, this is theirs all messy and twisted and perverse, but within this volume of space, on this planet being destroyed by human insolence, there is a pocket they have created for themselves, and when Lucas looks back at Eliott, he knows that they are both imagining themselves else where, without public scrutiny. There is also the case of the glass in his hand and, at this moment, Lucas doesn’t trust himself not to drop it.

Eliott meets him halfway and kisses Lucas on the lips, it’s short and sweet and Lucas would die for more, but he’s aware of where they are and isn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affection anyway. Eliott cups Lucas’ face and pulls him forward, encircling him in warmth and a musky scent. Lucas breathes him in before letting go reluctantly.

“How long have you been here?”

“Forty minutes or so, I think.”

Eliott looks at Lucas in disbelief. “You should have come and found me, you goose.” He brushes their noses together.

I don’t know anything about art; I don’t know why you would want me here. But he’s learning that some of his thoughts are ridiculous and it’s just his anxiety screwing him over so he tries to not think of that, and instead, absorb the absolute joy on Eliott’s face instead. He wants you here.

“You looked busy,” Lucas shrugs. “I didn’t want to interrupt the magic.”

Eliott is shaking his head, pulling Lucas in for another quick kiss. “You interrupt nothing, my love.”

Terms of endearment: Lucas has never been the biggest fan of them, finding them cringey but this- my love it awakens his soul, his spirit, it lights the desire in him to boiling point. Eliott in that turtle neck, calling him my love, is not helping Lucas’ need to rip his clothes off. But he holds himself together: cheeks turning rosy and biting his lip as Eliott turns him around and guides him to his own piece, Lucas can feel the nervous energy bouncing off of him.

Lucas is excited, mainly for Eliott, and how much he wants Lucas to see his work after weeks of it being kept secret. He wants to be properly introduced to this other side of Eliott whom he has only seen in brief glimpses of drawings as they materialise on Eliott’s wall or are folded carefully into the pocket of his own jacket. Though they have been dating, officially, for the past month, together for three, he doesn’t know the ambitious side of his boyfriend that well. He could tell you Eliott’s favourite author: Virginia Woolf, his favourite food: bacon and cheese omelette, how he likes his coffee: black, no milk or sugar, and that he is seemingly late to most things except when it comes to their one-on-one time. He could tell you that Eliott prefers paperbacks to hardbacks and folds back the cover whenever he’s reading and that it hurts Lucas’ soul just a bit whenever he sees that. However, Lucas could not tell you, just yet, what Eliott’s passion project has been for the past five months, one month before they met.

Built into one of the many white walls is a screen on which either side are a pair of black headphones. Lucas throws a quick glance at Eliott who is biting his thumb nervously before slipping the headphones on and standing directly in the middle, a few paces back from the screen.

It’s on loop; Lucas sees the credits first before it begins again. A new beginning, a fresh start. It’s a film. Lucas recognises the old railway track that circles the city walls of Paris where they once stood at the time of Napoleon III’s reign. He looks over at Eliott in surprise to see him smiling at Lucas. A few weeks back Eliott talked about going to La Petite Ceinture with Lucas and here it is, right there before him. There is a bridge engulfed in shadows and there is music, relatively loud: a soft beat, violins, maybe? The music is what catches Lucas’ attention the most, he has always had an ear for it, especially the classical, owed to his mother’s appreciation for it, leading to it become the sound Lucas would wake up to every morning before school. The beginnings of a new symphony trickling beneath his door at seven a.m.

If he knows anything about Eliott he can prophesise that there will be something romantic about this film. A shadow materialises from the right holding shining a torch beneath the bridge which appears at first, impenetrable, however, a shape emerges from the shadows; the dense black around it lightens slightly illuminating the shape into a figure. Lucas’ heart starts picking up its beat, hardly noticeable at all, as a story of fear and courage, of light and dark, is borne; he’s sure there is an even deeper meaning there, one he is missing, but as the two characters meet across the bridge of their differences, sharing in their similarities, Lucas can’t help but wonder if the juxtaposition of light and dark reflects the two people who are sharing their darkest fears and greatest dreams with each other, ones they were scared to admit to themselves. The music picks up in a crescendo as their lips touch and they cross the barrier into the other’s world and Lucas’ heart is in his throat at the utter tenderness which is very Eliott. He reaches out his hand behind him and feels long fingers slip into the gaps between his own, he squeezes their hands together and continues staring at the screen while the credits roll, revelling in the experience of this creation he has had the privilege to be privy to.

POLARIS written and directed by eliott demaury

Letting go of Eliott’s hand while he hangs up his headphones, Lucas is in awe of his boyfriend. Eliott often spoke about the pieces he worked on, but Lucas didn’t no it culminated into this. He turns to face him and is met with a nervous smile. Lucas steps right in front of him, reaches up to cup his face and shakes his head on a laugh.

“Who the hell are you?”

Eliott’s face pinches together and his eyebrows draw down in question.

“Amazing.” Lucas throws his arms around Eliott’s neck and affixes himself to his chest, tucking his head into the space where Eliott’s neck meets his shoulder.

“Did you like it?” Eliott whispers as he circles his arms around Lucas’ waist.

Jerking back, Lucas clutches Eliott’s biceps. “I have no words that would do it justice. How do I have the most beautiful boyfriend in the world?”

Eliott ducks his head in response, shy and self-conscious at Lucas’ praise, he glances at Lucas through his eyelashes and asks, “So, you liked it?”

Kissing his nose, Lucas pecks Eliott on the lips and whispers against them, “My heart is weeping tears. I loved it. Of course, I did.”

The smile he receives is beatific. Only then does he realise the extent of Eliott’s nerves and how Lucas is the one who got him all tied up, he hugs Eliott once more, tightly, in reassurance. “I loved it.”

When they finally part, Eliott checks his phone and asks Lucas, “When are we meeting the guys?”

“Around 9:30, I think. We don’t have to go, though.”

“No, I want to.”

“But what about this?” Lucas gestures to the screen — where Eliott’s film has begun to roll again —and the space around him. “This is your night.”

Eliott shoves his hands into the front pockets of his slacks and shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve been here since seven, it’s too much, even for me — all the attention.”

It is scary how much Lucas gets that, gets Eliott, how he must be drained from speaking to numerous people all evening about his work and theirs. Though, he does look happy, just tired and in need of some down time, which, Lucas thinks, is the exact opposite of the energy his friends exude.

Lucas nods his head, gesturing with his thumb to the cloakroom. “Yeah, we can go. I just need to get my jacket.”

“YES!” Yann is raising his controller in the air, grinning with satisfaction.

“Yann! What the fuck, man! Arthur, stop! Lucas, come on, back me here!” Basile is yelling, his eyes fixated on the TV screen, divided in two, his half decorated in big red letters: YOU LOSE.

Lucas is laughing along with Yann, Arthur and Eliott, because it was sabotage but also hilarious. He clutches at his sides as Baz gets increasingly more annoyed. He is criminally competitive, and with Arthur dancing in front of Baz’s side of the screen and messing up his hair in an attempt to distract him and make him lose to Yann, Basile’s temper is rising, his face reddening — a feat they execute every time they play video games.

Arthur is cackling and robbing Baz of his remote.

“You promised you wouldn’t do this again!”

“You gotta stop trusting us, man.” Yann responds, already choosing his team for his next match against Arthur.

Baz sighs and gets up to find another beer.

“I’m assuming you do this every time, huh?” Eliott is biting his lips, trying to keep his laughter in because he feels bad.

The other three all look at each other with shit-eating grins on their faces, but when they turn to meet Eliott’s gaze, their smiles turn sheepish. Then they are back to playing Fifa and British rap music blunts from Yann’s speaker, Arthur raps along to it and when Baz returns, already cooled down — his annoyance forgotten, he joins in and hops down next to Lucas on a beanbag. When Baz passes both Eliott and Lucas a beer each, Lucas rests his head on Baz’s shoulder in apology, looking up at him, and they exchange smiles. He knows they’re okay, that Baz is not mad.

After a few games, Eliott retreats into the kitchen and after fifteen minutes of no return, Lucas trails after, curious.

Lucas peaks into the kitchen then leans against the doorway, observing Eliott cutting a grapefruit into small chunks before dropping them into a jug full of ice. He stands before a window, the street lamps from outside shining through the glass and lightening Eliott’s hair to a golden-brown.

“What are you doing?”

Eliott looks up briefly and returns to his task of cutting fruit. “Making sangria.”

“Mmm,” Lucas licks his lips. “Can I help?”

“Um, yeah. Pour in the wine?”

“That I can do.”

Lucas hears rather than sees Eliott saunter in his direction. Placing an elbow on the kitchen counter he leans against it with his body and...proceeds to knock over the open bottle of champagne. It appears to happen in slow motion: Eliott reaching out to steady the bottle, his reflexes failing him, Lucas reaches out at the same time and they both become funnels for the wine as it slips throw their hands and slides down their arms like they’re in a fucking Carrie film, soaking Lucas’ shirt. He gasps at the shock of cold, staring down at his shirt for a second.

When he eventually looks up at Eliott, his back is turned and his shoulders are shaking as he clears up the spillage with a sponge, as much as he, ineffectively, as it continues to drip on the ground from his own wine-drenched arms.

Lucas throws his head back and groans, causing Eliott to sputter out a laugh which turns into loud gasps of air and occasional breaks of laughter. Lucas looks down at his blue shirt again, which sticks to his chest, and begins laughing too. Shoulders shaking in communion with Eliott’s, he bumps his him against Eliott’s hip, almost slipping in the wine on the floor and is caught by the biceps in a firm grip. Their laughter silenced until they lock eyes and Eliott’s rolled his lips inwards, his eyes entirely unapologetic and mischievous as he slides his hands down Lucas’ sides, joining them at the small of his back, but Lucas is still caught up in the vision of Eliott trying to clean the surface while he was soaked in wine, making his attempts futile, and he knows that look in Eliott’s eyes, that he was about to kiss him, but he can’t help it. Lucas’ head falls forward against Eliott’s chest and his ribs ache as he begins laughing again. Helpless against it.

After a few tries, Lucas manages to gasp out — between laughs — that they need to clean themselves up. He directs Eliott to Yann’s bathroom and washes down his arms for him in what must be freezing cold water because Eliott is yelling in protest while Lucas refuses to adjust the temperature because this is his payback to Eliott for ruining his shirt. He can be petty like it. He’s laughing all the way through it and Eliott’s eyes narrow down at him in suspicion.

Once Eliott is all cleaned up, he returns to try and salvage what’s left of his sangria ingredients, meanwhile, Lucas slips into one of Yann’s t-shirts, bundling his own shirt up into a ball and dumping it by his shoes at the door. When he returns to the scene of the crime, Eliott looks over at him and smirks, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, he gives Lucas a once over.

Of course Lucas knows why he’s getting that look; Yann’s t-shirt reaches to below his bum, but he chooses to ignore Eliott’s look and raises his chin slightly.

“Yes?” He asks, as he reaches for the bottle with the remaining red wine in it and downs the liquid in seconds.

“Nothing.” Eliott responds, but he is inching closer to Lucas, slowly and steadily.

They are both a bit tipsy curtesy of the three beers and then the bottle of cider they shared (disgusting in Lucas’ opinion). At least, Lucas is. He only felt it hit him when he stood in the doorway in Yann’s shirt and Eliott’s gaze fell upon him, slightly teasing and incredibly enticing. He can’t quite look him in the eye, feeling a bit nervous, so he plants his eyes on Eliott’s chest. This does not help remotely because now Lucas’ is thinking about Eliott’s tattoo there and his smooth chest and he is really starting to believe that Eliott is some otherworldly creature who has been sent to Earth to rob Lucas of his sensibilities.

He stands there, and brushes Lucas’ lips slowly with his thumb, saying: “They’re all rosy now.”

Raising his own fingers to his lips, Lucas brushes them too, only to have this hand snatched away by Eliott who brings them to his own lips and kisses each finger individually, like they each deserve his undivided attention.

“You can’t do that here.” Lucas almost gasps out.

“Hm?” Eliott asks, holding Lucas’ hand now, grey-green eyes searching Lucas’, as if Lucas’ voice hadn’t completely given him away.

“I definitely have a semi.”

Eliott bites his lip in amusement, raising Lucas’ fingers to his mouth once more, but Lucas rips his hand out of Eliott’s grasp and takes a couple steps back which Eliott seems thoroughly enthralled by as he counters Lucas’ steps until Lucas is flush against the kitchen counter and Eliott is lifting him onto the marble surface, planting his hands on either side of Lucas as he leans forward and captures his lips in a blazing kiss that defuses any nervousness in Lucas’ brain about his friends walking in, because he really couldn’t give less of a fuck right now.

In between the first kiss and the next, Lucas whispers fuck and before he can emit an embarrassingly loud groan, Eliott is sweeping him into another fiery kiss that lights him up from the inside out, incandescent. Lucas swears that in the vacuum of space there is no star that shines quite like Eliott, that can evoke such happiness or hope in another person.

Lucas is being tugged forward until he is chest to chest to Eliott while his own hands are making a mess of his boyfriend’s hair, and trailing down his neck and cupping his jaw to deepen the kiss.

“Lucas! Lulu!”

“Get your ass in here! It’s time to PLAY!”

“Luuuuuucas!”

“I’m coming to find you!” Baz.

That comment makes them jerk apart. Resting their foreheads on each other’s shoulders, waiting for their breaths to slow down, return to some semblance of normal before they rejoin le gang. God knows Lucas will not hear the end of this but he is flush with desire and with love. Sliding down to the floor, he intertwines his fingers with Eliott’s, resting his head on Eliott’s shoulder for a second before they go back to the living room and have to face the music.

He is feeling nervous because this is a big deal but he doesn’t want it to be a big thing; it is a step forward in what he hopes is the right direction. A step forward into trying to take care of himself and being a better person for himself and everyone he loves. He wants to explore the world more, be less afraid of the everyday things that do not warrant his constant fear and anguish, he doesn’t want to be second guessing himself or the kindness people show him. He doesn’t want to be thinking that people are pretending to like him, that pity motives them to hang out with him. He wishes to be free of these burdens, and he knows, he knows that it won’t all be magically fixed with a sprinkle of fairy dust, he knows he has this for life, but when he thinks back on the days where he would cancel plans to stay at home or lie in bed and read comics, the days where he was exhausted beyond comprehension and become lax with personal hygiene, when he thinks back on those dark days, he knows he would do anything to reduce their frequency.

So, when he brings it up to Eliott, he’s trying to be casual about it, just drop it into the conversation like it’s no big deal. He doesn’t look at Eliott, pretends to be scanning for a book Eliott has been begging him to read almost since the time they met to add to the illusion of nonchalance he has going.

“I’m gonna be going to therapy, but since I’m doing it for free, I’m on the waitlist so I probably won’t have my first appointment till the end of March.” Lucas is chill. He is cool. To emphasise this, he flops down on Eliott’s sofa, one of his favourite places — all soft, like a cocoon that molds to his body, familiar with his shape after hours and hours spent lounging in its warmth.

“Lucas?”

Lucas remains where he’s lying down, book held above his head, pretending to read and his arms are already beginning to ache, but he’s going for casual remember.

“Yeah?”

“Lucas.”

The boy in question can’t decipher the tone of his boyfriend’s voice. He can feel the butterflies beginning their familiar swirl deep in his belly, so he thinks of that quote Eliott recently stuck up above his bed: “I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on pavement.”

“Uh huh?”

The book is snatched from his hands, revealing a wide-eyed Eliott. He dumps the book beside Lucas’ head and stares down at him in askance.

“Therapy? When did this happen?” Why didn’t you tell me, he doesn’t say. Eliott is in shock, Lucas concludes. Well, maybe not shock but he looks almost disbelieving and confused, maybe, as to why Lucas didn’t tell him his plan. But the thing with Lucas is, he likes to get things done without telling people because he doesn’t want to disappoint them in case he reneges. The look on Eliott’s face tells him it was worth it.

“Yesterday.”

“And you waited until now,” Eliott checks his phone before staring Lucas down once more. “Three in the afternoon to tell me this?” He is smiling, proud. Lucas feels it in his bones.

He is proud of himself too. Eliott’s expression softens, as though he can read Lucas’ mind. He leans down and kisses Lucas’ forehead, then, as though that is not enough contact, not enough to show his pride, he circles himself around Lucas, lying down on his chest, elbow resting on the sofa by Lucas’ head. They are eye to eye now, cerulean eyes meeting misty grey ones: a mosaic of the ocean seas, calm and settled. The weight of Eliott’s body against him as he looks at Lucas with admiration, grounds Lucas in the moment, he feels it like a new beginning, a fresh start: beginning his journey of learning that his feelings and needs are important as much as everyone else’s in the world.

Lucas shrugs in response. “I didn’t want to disappoint you, because if I had told you and I didn’t go through with it I wouldn’t have been able to handle breaking a promise. Especially to you.”

“Lucas-”

“I know you’re going to say that I could never disappoint you, but that’s not true, and I would have been disappointed in myself, and it would’ve all been made even worse, because I’d have your disappointment on top of my own guilt. But I did it, I’ve done it. And…yeah.”

Eliott’s face went through a myriad of emotions while Lucas was walking, but, now, he brushes Lucas hair in tender strokes, kisses his forehead once more, trailing his nose down to Lucas’ and hovering there. On the precipice of something.

“Can I take you there?”

“To therapy?” Lucas inquires.

“Yeah.”

March is four months away. That will be eight months with Eliott. Lucas mulls over his question, even closes his eyes and hums for a second.

“I guess so.” He concedes, lifting his head up a fraction of an inch, just so he can brush his lips against Eliott’s. Their noses slide passed each other, like two puzzle pieces finally fitted together, like when the sun and moon finally cross paths, and the probability of an eclipse increases exponentially, blotting out the star-speckled night and snow-white January mornings, the blazing heat of a summer’s afternoon and the tear-stained watercolour sky of early spring as it creeps towards dusk.

“I don’t remember where but I think I read somewhere that taking things a day at a time can really help, for people like me, who deal with anxious and constant worries about the future; trying to think in the now, focusing on what you have to do on that day and that day only, which isn’t always possible, but it really stuck with me. I’m trying to be more positive, and take things as they come, to stop trying to control everything by taking the day as it is and focusing on it instead of what’s to come later. Like focusing on what I’m doing now, in that hour, you know?”

Eliott nods in understanding, eyes bare on Lucas’, giving him his full undivided attention, wanting him to know that he is listening, that what he is saying is being heard.

“Taking things minute by minute?”

Lucas nods his head, licking his lips as a small tear slips from his eye. “Exactly.”

“Well that sounds like a plan. Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, with Lucas Lallemant. Sounds like my kind of thing.”

Eliott’s lips tick up at the side in a small smile as he brushes away Lucas’ tear, kissing the patch of wet skin. He sits up, pulling Lucas up with him, cupping his face as he feels arms circle his own waist. Tight. Eliott’s eyes-crinkle as he rests his forehead against Lucas’ in something akin to prayer.

Minute by minute.

#thank u for reading <33 #so much <33 #elu fic #go ahead and watch my heart burn #elu #skam france #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #mine

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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874

What's something you couldn't live without, other than the obvious? It’d be very hard to have to get by without my glasses. I’d technically survive, but I’ll have to get used to bumping into things a lot and never recognizing anyone unless they’re right beside/in front of me. What's something that will always cheer you up? Dogs. Real life dogs, photos of dogs, videos of dogs, stories about dogs, etc. Who's had the biggest positive impact on your life? My orgmates. They made me happy when I needed it the most, called me out when I needed the help, and idk I’m just happy whenever I get to see them. I can’t recall a time where I felt like it was a chore to spend some time with them. Do you wear flip-flops during the winter? Sigh...moving on... What was the last thing you said out loud? I asked Nina to help me bring Cooper and his stuff up to my parents’ room; specifically, I asked her to bring his food and water bowls.

What's something that irritates you to no end? Backhand compliments. An uncle once congratulated me for getting into my dream school but ended his sentence with “are you sure you don’t wanna go to [2nd top university in the country, (which I also passed the day before)]? You’ll fit better there.” This was like two days after I found out I got into UP, so I was still on cloud nine. I don’t know how my face contorted after that but I wasn’t pleased.

Honestly, do looks matter to you? Yes, but not as much as personality and intelligence. When was the last time you had a girls/guys night out? Not sure. I just have nights out in general; I never plan out gender-exclusive hangouts with my friends. Do you still watch kiddie movies/tv shows? Sometimes, when I get in the mood to. It’s not something I feel the need to do regularly. What's your worst habit? Never learning my lesson and being careless just because everything is going well. Best way I can illustrate this is when a couple of a months ago I started getting regular headaches because I’d sleep at 3, 4 AM – I addressed it by giving myself an earlier bedtime. When the headaches went away and I started feeling better, I went right back to sleeping late lol. Procrastinating is a good example too; I’ve submitted work early occasionally and it’s satisfying as fuck, but I never learn for the most part and stick to doing stuff at the last minute. Do your parents call you by any embarrassing nicknames? No. Byn is a nickname, but I don’t find it embarrassing. Do you have road rage? Yeah but there have to be certain conditions for me to get to that point, like once I’ve seen enough stupidity on the road and I can’t take it anymore; when I’m tense about something; or when traffic has been standstill for too long. Is there a certain word that you always forget how to spell? Not really. I know my spelling pretty well. Are there any books in your room? Which ones? Yesssss but it’s mostly because I owned a lot of books as a kid and I’ve thrown none of them out. My book collection is sorely not updated because I stopped reading as I got older. Do you take too many surveys? I wouldn’t say I take too many, especially considering the fact that I used to take like 7-10 surveys everyday back in high school. I do take them regularly. Write some lyrics from the song you're currently listening to: "You know I’m always coming back to this place, you know I’m always gonna look for your face.”

When it comes to dating, what's your preferred age range? 0-1 year. When was the last time someone gave you a weird look? Continued the next morning, lol. I was dancing in my seat over dinner last night because the fried chicken we had was super good, so my mom looked at me strangely. Do you like to cuddle? Only with a significant other, and an animal if they’re willing to cuddle. Do you like the band Cartel? I don’t think I’ve heard of that band yet. Do you play any instruments? No, but I’m always wishing I could. Do you ever blare the music in the car and dance like an idiot? I used to do that when I drove to and from school. It’s the only time in the day where I’m not working and I’m alone, so I allow myself to let loose. Though I gotta say, most of it is recorded because I always have a dashcam on HAHAHAHA so I definitely have some footage I don’t want getting aired in like my funeral or something. Do you like playing in the rain? When I was a kid.

What's something you miss? Going to the mall is a big one. Anything unpleasant coming up soon? The worst thing I can think of is the first anniversary of Nacho’s passing. It’s not till September, but when I think about how March literally feels like yesterday September doesn’t seem too far away anymore. If you had a pet moose, what would you name him? Probably the name of another animal, like Cow. I’ve seen other people name their dogs the names of different animals and it has always sounded so hilarious to me. Do you often hold back what you really want to say? If it’s gonna make me look unnecessarily blunt and hurtful then yes. Are you currently wearing any jewlery? Nope. What was the last gift you gave to someone? Cooper, for Father’s Day. It was my mom’s idea but I helped chip in with the graduation money I got from one of my aunts. Do you decorate for Christmas? (If you celebrate it, that is.) We do. I’ll probably put a tree and some stockings up once I live alone, idk, just so I don’t feel too lonely. Are you hungry? A bit, but it’s manageable. On that note, I miss continental breakfasts. I’ve been having Filipino-style breakfast for months and I really would just like a goddamn croissant or bread rolls with butter for once, lol. When was the last time you went bowling? Sometime in September and October last year. Can you whistle? Yes. Is there a certain genre of music that you just can't stand? Country. Are you allergic to anything? Nope. How many pillows do you sleep with? Two. I lay my head on one and hug another. If I don’t have a ~hug pillow~ it takes much longer for me to fall asleep. You've just won a free vacation! Where do you want to go? Covid restrictions hypothetically put aside, I’d love to go on the New York/Texas trip I initially planned as my grad gift. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? I have a good relationship with my dad. But it’s not like I feel comfortable enough to tell either of my parents any of my secrets. What's your favorite thing about yourself? Gabie likes to tell me “you’re too selfless, you don’t have to help everyone” in sort of like an annoyed tone because that’s exactly what I do lol - help anyone, even if I have to go out of my way or even if it’ll inconvenience me to do it. But I love it about me. I like when I get to make people go home with one less issue on their shoulders. Do you have any health problems? Scoliosis. Have you ever had a near-death experience? Almost smashed into a car that suddenly braked while I was going 50, 60 kph. Are you extremely picky when it comes to guys/girls? That’s what demis essentially are, lol. Do you ever listen to classical music? It’s my last resort when I’m studying and no other music is helping me get focused. What was the last concert you attended? Paramore. What's a movie you'd like to see right now? (Old or new) Ammonite, it’s an upcoming film with Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan. Do you take life too seriously? Most of the time. I just find it necessary that way. When was the last time you were truly scared? This weekend when my mom watched a jumpscare with the sound on, so I heard the loud demon scream that came up in the end. What's the funniest trick you've ever pulled on anyone? I don’t like pulling tricks because I don’t like them pulled on me. The most I’ve done is take Gab’s phone and pretend with her that it’s lost. Do you like orange juice? I’ll drink it if it’s served for free, but I wouldn’t buy one for myself. Do you own any skinny jeans? Yes, nearly all my jeans are skinny. Do you have a diary/journal that you frequently write in? You’re looking at it. When was the last time you had a good workout? November, back when I still had that intense PE class that made me work out for an hour every Wednesday and Friday. Do you like your eye color? I find it too common but I’m not actively complaining about it. I don’t feel the need to change it. When was the last time you played with Play-Doh? Two or three years ago at a cousins’ place. One of them was still a baby then, so the toys they had around were clay and kinetic sand and stuff. What's something that you think people waste too much time on? Fighting on Facebook comments lol Do you think they should outlaw talking on your cell phone while driving? They already have, at least here. Are you embarrassed to burp or fart in front of your friends? For the most part. I’ll burp only in front of Angela and Gab. Do you like peanut butter cookies? Yesssssss, but I don’t get to have it a lot. :(

#survey #surveys

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 6 years ago

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When a God Finds a Girl (Part 8)

A/N: I’m in a moody mood today, so none of this is what I had originally planned

Thor holds you and watches the sunrise and the mist on the water. The revelation that you’d spent a chunk of time doing a plethora of drugs had him shaken. He knew that you’d been broken. He knew your heart and soul had both been through a wringer, and now a lot of your actions made sense. When you did drink, it wasn’t much. When you worked, you worked with single-minded intensity. You went from drugs to caffeine as addictions, and the thought made him hug you tighter. He was so proud of you for changing your life and so worried that you might actually work yourself to death. He looked down at you asleep in his arms and smiled a little. His arm and one of his legs were numb, but he stayed still. You needed your rest, and he was thrilled to be holding you. When you did stir, looking up at him groggy and disoriented Thor kissed your forehead, “Good morning, my love,” he murmured, “How do you feel?” You stretch and groan, “Like an idiot, like I should be apologizing to you,” you say. Thor kissed your forehead again and frowned, “Why?” he asked. “I just... I know I’m probably not your idea of a long term relationship, and all my baggage just keeps getting dropped on you.” you sigh, “I’m sorry. I spent so long on drugs and just hooking up with people and then working and trying to ruin my life that I don’t really know how to flirt. Or do dates. Or actual relationships... My ex was more of a penance than a relationship.” Thor tilted your chin up and kissed you gently, “I’ve been alive a long time,” he said, “And No one I’ve ever met has made me feel the way you do.” He kissed you again, “I’ve kissed many people. And that kiss on the pier yesterday was my favorite first kiss. I’ve been waiting for it for so long that I almost resigned it to a permanent daydream.”

You blush, and Thor chuckles, brushing his thumb across your lips before kissing you again slowly. "Whatever your past, I love you," he confessed, "I love you so much I'm not sure I've ever really loved anyone else." you can feel tears welling up. You never expected to be the girl who got a big romantic speech. Thor can't think of anything else, and so for a few more minutes there are no more words and his lips meet yours again. You can't think straight, and you don't want to, kissing Thor is better than being on ecstasy. You feel alive, and you'd happily fuck him right there on the wooden dock. It's the best make out you've ever had. His rough hands turn velvety soft as he caresses your neck and back and when he tangles his hands in your hair, you moan against his lips, making his deep baritone chuckle vibrate his chest under your hands. When he pulls away, grinning at you and looking pleased with himself, you can't smile back at him.

"My love," he says, "As lovely as this is I think your other houseguests would not be pleased with me if I took you out here on the dock." You giggle and bite a swollen kiss lip, "Let's go get them up," you say, "There's a diner in town we can get breakfast." Thor beamed and pulled you over his shoulder before standing up, carrying you giggling and protesting into the house. Thor couldn't resist swatting your backside before setting you down, and Steve started choking on his coffee when Sam scowled. Thor coughs and places you, blushing and still giggling back on the ground gently. You meet Sam’s scowl, pressing your lips together to keep from breaking down in helpless laughter all over again, “I see you do that again,” Sam said, protective older brother mode all over his face, “And you’ll lose that hand.” You do laugh then, laughing so hard that you wind up sitting on the kitchen floor. Sam almost cracks a smile. Even he couldn’t be mad at something that made you that happy. Traeger barrels into you only making you laugh harder as he licks the tears of laughter off your face.

The others trickle out, and Thor helps you off the floor, pulling you in for a kiss as you give Sam the finger at his grumbling. When you pull away, smiling you look at the others, “Let’s go get breakfast, there’s a neat little diner in town.” The others go to get dressed, and Natasha drags you into your temporarily shared bedroom by the hand. She tears through the closet and lays out a cute sundress for both of you, tossing them on the bed. “Nat,” you say, “Those are neither on long enough to be decent on me.” Natasha laughs, “Come on. It’s summer. That’s the point,” she coaxed. “Aside from that, “ she said grinning, “Think of how fucking fun it would be to have Thor trying NOT to provoke Big Brother out there from beating him to death with Bucky’s arm.” You snort and pick up the sundress with cherries on it, “Zip me up?” you ask. “Atta girl,” Natasha said, “Let’s see if we can’t snap a few necks walking around today.”

When you both walk out of the bedroom made up and dolled up, the boys are all dumbstruck for a moment. Your sundresses are short, and your eyeliner is winged for the gods. Thor stares at you, your lips are the most inviting shade of red he’s ever seen, and he desperately wants to haul you back into that bedroom and shred that dress to pieces as he savages you. Sam glares at you and reaches over to push Thor’s jaw up with a snap. Steve twirls you around, and Bucky does the same for Natasha before they each take an and pile into your jeep, leaving Sam and Thor to ride together.

The ride to town is quiet in Sam’s truck. He’s just barely containing his irritation. Really, he can’t even be that mad about him just... He still wants stability for you. He wants you to make music and be happy. He wants you to not work yourself to death. He wants you to find a partner that can be there to support you. Thor is not that. Being a hero is not conducive to caring for a partner. “You do not find me worthy of Y/N, do you?” Thor asked, there was no anger just a statement of fact. “I made a promise,” Sam said, “I promised I’d protect her. I promised Clay before...” He stopped, gripping the wheel tighter. “Before Cheri died, Clay and I had a plan. We were going to be together. But the Cheri died, and that wasn’t an option. No court was going to give a teenage girl to two men to raise... So plans changed. They had to. The week before he blew his brains out, he made me swear that I’d protect her because he just couldn’t anymore.” Sam sighed, “I tried. I watched her try to die more times than I could count. Adderal, Cocaine, Ecstasy, Acid. Not eating for days. Not sleeping for a week. Dating men who just patently did not care enough about her to even make sure she drank water at some point. She’s been a dominatrix, an EMT, a bartender... Now she has three jobs because she’s afraid if she stops doing shit for a while and she works at a normal pace she won’t be able to take it, and she’ll end up like Clay.” He stops and looks at Thor, “It’s been my biggest fear the last few years that I’ll get the call that she finally flamed out because she just can’t take it all anymore. And you think you’re ready for that?”

Thor is quiet. Thinking. Thinking of you and the kisses that seared his lips. Thinking of you dead-eyed and tired in the coffee shop. Your sudden ferocity in the bar when you were fighting for someone who couldn’t fight for themselves. He considers all of that, your pain. Your need to tear yourself to pieces to try and change the world. And all he wants is to love you. All he wants is to know that he can be with you and be the one you run to. “Yes,” he said, eyes getting soft as he watched you laughing arm in arm with Natasha, “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Tags: @thekairos @fatheadtheroger @lancsnerd

#thor x you #thor x reader #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #steve rogers

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deanky · 5 years ago

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Total - Andy Merrill Q&A

Total TV: You did the Space Ghost voice in your original demo for Coast to Coast, right?

Andy Merrill: The pilot, yeah.

What was your Space Ghost voice like?

It was just [in pompous radio announcer voice] "so tell me Denzel, what was it like being at the Oscars?" Kind of stupid. Just a dumb pious voice.

You were not destined to be the voice of Space Ghost obviously.

No, I wasn't, no. I just did this goofy little mock-up to put questions to interview answers from these sound bites of Denzel Washington. To this day I don't think Denzel Washington knows that. I mean we didn't like broadcast it or anything. The [Denzel] footage was from Showbiz Today, I just recorded it from that right before I put the thing together, so that interview could have been with anybody that was on Showbiz Today that day.

Right. Clay said he had a real thing about Zorak from back when he was watching the original show. Did you feel that way with Brak?

No, you know, I didn't even know Brak. I mean, I was familiar with the show and I watched it as a kid in the 70's when it was like Space Ghost Frankenstein Jr. And my brother and I used to watch it all the time, my dad would always watch cartoons with us. But I never like associated myself with the characters. We just threw the Council of Doom together from--there was about a six-part episode, it was like the last of the old Space Ghost made where the Council of Doom got together against Space Ghost. And we took the Council of Doom members, shy of one, that we didn't already have on Coast to Coast, and had them sing the "Twelve Days of Christmas." That's where Brak came from.

Oh really? That was Brak's first-ever . . .

That was the original Brak, that was my first time doing Brak and Lokar. Brak came out of the writers' meetings where we would like read over the script and take different parts. And I always took Brak's part and just said, [in quasi-subdued Brakian scream] "Hi, my name is Brak," and it made us all laugh, so that's kind of how I got to do it. I didn't get paid anything, so it was very cheap. And Lokar we were going to establish as this staunch snobby type person, so we were going to have him just sing out operatically. And so I kind of have some singing background so I sang his voice. And then we reprised the characters in the world premiere Toon In show and then it all escalated from there into Cartoon Planet.

It's kind of cool to have the dichotomy of Lokar the erudite and Brak, who's obviously at the opposite end of the spectrum.

I think it's fun they're just so completely opposite. One is completely devoid of a brain and the other one thinks he's like the smartest being alive, so he uses big words. It's really challenging to do Lokar, just because whenever we write his lines we'll thesaurize, we'll get a thesaurus and we'll like pick like the biggest words and the hardest words to say and like plug them in.

Did you ever expect that Brak would take off to become like a cult hero? He gets the most fan mail.

No, you know, I didn't. And he does.

And I've got to say, Brak is my favorite. I mean I love Zorak too, but Brak is just like. . .

Well, he's just lovable. He's me. [laughs] No--well, basically he is. There's a lot of me in Brak and a lot of little stories that we tell are taken from like personal experiences. Whenever Brak talks about school and stuff like that, a lot of that is real. But it kind of surprised me when we first went to Dragon Con, which is a comic convention here in Atlanta, and we showed the "Twelve Days of Christmas" segment like the first year we were there. And it just surprised me to hear that people were singing along with it and just doing Brak lines and stuff. I just thought that was just kind of weird. And they wanted my autograph and all that stuff.

Do you sign Brak or do you sign Andy Merrill?

I sign Brak a.k.a. Andy Merrill. I took that from Clay. Clay does that too, Zorak a.k.a. Clay Croker, Seymour Croker, or something like that. So it's still kind of weird and I'm kind of used to it now, but just to see all the websites that are out there and stuff like that, it's just crazy. I'm happy that people really, really like the character. I'm really happy about that. So many people, you know, are reaching out.

What I love is he's sort of got like this 4- and 5-year-old consciousness that's just so pure, and I'm sure you get a lot of fan mail from little kids as well.

All ages, pretty much, from little kids to parents. And since we're on at 11:30 Friday nights we have a major college student following and they watch us, you know, religiously. I even did an interview last week where the person brought to my attention that there was a Brak drinking game. I said, Well, I can't endorse that, but that kind of was flying around the Internet too, which is kind of a weird thing. So it's escalated to that point. When you drive people to drink.

Was it the character of Brak that really inspired the move into Cartoon Planet? Or was that going to happen anyway?

No, Brak was going to be a very minimal part of Cartoon Planet. If you see any of the original shows--we kind of changed Brak over about a year's time. He got such a big response we wanted to put more of him in, and I would go into voice sessions and only last 20 minutes because I would just be in there screaming in a monotone at the top of my lungs and then my voice would give out. So he was stupid anyway so we kind of dumbed him up and gave him a lot more vocal range. I can go up and down and all that stuff. I can talk more normally now.

Right, otherwise your throat would never forgive you.

Oh yeah, it's terrible. It was awful. I would be out of it for like a day or two.

Well, I take issue with the fact that Brak is stupid. He's more like an idiot savant I think.

Yeah, Mike [Lazzo] always describes him as an idiot savant. And he was struck dumb, I mean he used to be this evil mastermind, so he's got some form of intelligence in him somewhere that comes out every once in a while. He's kind of like, you know, Jim Ignatowski of Taxi, you know.

Yeah, exactly, that's a good parallel, actually.

Like Jim goes to a party and plays the piano and stops in the middle, saying, I didn't know I could do this, and so that's kind of the parallel. He's stupid, but he's not. And that's part of the drinking game too. Whenever [Brak] says something intelligent, you have to drink. And he's into poetry and Shakespeare and stuff like that though he doesn't know it.

I love when Brak just goes off and starts to riff on stuff. Like when he goes on and on trying to find a highway number that works in "Highway 40 Unplugged," that bonus track on the Cartoon Planet Band EP.

Yeah. I can't remember why . . . we went in just to like record an extra track for the CD, and I just brought in my ukulele and played that. And played this old song, the other bonus track is "Put Your Socks On Mama." I made that up in college for my friend Paula 'cause I used to, over the summer, like send tapes to my really good friends--just goofy things, you know. That's where "Put Your Socks On Mama" came from. It's a song I made up. I'd forgotten about it for years but she, like, put this tape together of goofy stuff that I recorded for her and that song was on it.

Do you think there's ever a chance that the Cartoon Planet Band would make an actual live appearance?

I don't know. I don't know. You know, [writer] Dave [Willis] and I and Ann Susan [Brown] and Stuart [Shacklee] in programming played a street festival last year in May and we didn't sing any Cartoon Planettype stuff, but we sang like Rolling Stone songs and stuff like that. So we can like put a little band together. But I don't know. We do a few conventions every year, like the Dragon Con and the Comic Con and I thought it might be fun to like get up and do a song or something. But so many people, when they come to like have you sign pictures are always trying to have me sing "Highway 40" or something. I always just kind of shy up on them, feel stupid, 'cause I don't have any music or anything like that. And some of them I can't--I mean it's nice that we have the CD and stuff so I can at least remember the songs 'cause some of these we recorded like two years ago. And you know you record them once and never perform them or anything, so it's like you forget the words and all that stuff.

So you never had an actual musical career before this? You just did like these goofy songs for friends every once in a while?

Yeah, I'd do goofy songs for friends and I always just--my parents were very sad when I left the house for college, just because I was always like making noise and singing and goofing around the house and stuff.

Do you think there was always a Brak inside you, like struggling to get out?

I'm sure my neighbor thinks I'm nuts just because I live alone with my dog and I'm always like talking to my dog or, like, singing stupid songs to make her wag her tail or something like that.

What's your dog's name?

Sage. But I call her Stinky or Dummy or stuff like that.

What kind of dog?

Black lab.

Ooh, nice. I love black labs.

She's funny.

I bet. Do you ever get to the point where you're starting to talk like Brak when you don't mean to talk like Brak? Or can you like turn that on and off? I mean, do you have Brak-ish moments in your normal life?

Every once in a while. Not too often. I'm always trying to think of where the present Brak voice came from and I just remember my friend Wally and I in high school just going around saying, [in goofy voice] "You be dawg, you be dawg, you're a dopey dawg," and it kind of came from that, but not totally. It just like came back years later, but I don't know. It's such a different voice, I don't really fall into it that much. But there's times when I'm in the car, like listening to Queen or something like that, you know--there's a lot of Queen songs that would be really funny if Brak sang them. I mean it'd be fun to, like, do an album of actual songs, it would be expensive but it'd be fun to like have Lokar and Brak do "Under Pressure." Or something like that. It just would be fun to do certain songs like "Bohemian Rhapsody" or Alanis Morrissette's "You Oughta Know."

That would be outstanding. Another persona that I love of yours is the guy in the goofy Space Ghost suit.

That's the Space Ghost Dancer. You know, we auditioned people for that, I called a number of dance studios around town to audition.

You mean like real actual dancers?

Yeah, to see if anybody was like interested in auditioning to be the dancing Space Ghost. And I had five guys lined up for the audition. Three showed up and did okay. No, actually two showed up, did all right, and then we had all this studio time left and Pete said, "Well, why don't you put the suit on and dance?" I said, "Well are you going to do it?" He said, "Yeah, I'll do it if you do it." So I put it on first and Pete never did put the suit on. But I just got up and danced around and we had that on a tape too. The actual muscular professional dancer in a Space Ghost suit was just too freaky. It's like really a scary thing to see Space Ghost actually dancing nicely. So we showed mine too, which was funny, and then we went in for a two-day shoot and shot a whole bunch of openings and closings

There were some openings we didn't use, like my favorite was really funny, but we couldn't use it for obvious reasons. Space Ghost starts to dance and then grabs his arm and falls over from a heart attack and just lays there dead the rest of the opening. And we couldn't use that. But last year, last May, Dave and I went out with my video camera and I put the suit on and we went out to Stone Mountain Park and ran around and shot some stuff and it was amazing to see how many people cooperate with that. Like, there were these four ladies playing tennis, and we just went up and sheepishly asked them if we could film me playing tennis with them, and I thought they would tell us to hit the road but they signed releases. And we played putt-putt and went to a place just up the street from my apartment, and shot Space Ghost getting his hair cut.

What's going to happen with Cartoon Planet? I know it's been a little bit on hiatus because there's so much emphasis on Coast to Coast, but I mean it's coming back, isn't it?

[hesitantly] I . . . I don't know. I . . . I hope.

Mike Lazzo said it was when I asked him yesterday.

[somewhat incredulously] Really?!

Yeah, he said absolutely, oh yeah, yeah.

[eagerly] You have that on tape?

Yes, I do have it on tape.

[triumphantly] Okay, then we've got him. [laughs] I hope, you know, when we're done doing this deal that we'll do more. I'm hoping. 'Cause I'd like to do more of some of the newer stuff we were doing like "Cooking [with Brak]." We only did like two "Tales of Suspense," which I just thought of, like, at the last session we did. So I'm hoping to take a little vacation in September. Hopefully we'll be done with 26 [Coast to Coast] shows by then.

Do you have the whole arc of how the 26 episodes are going to go?

How they're going to air? No, 'cause that kind of changes all the time, until the last minute.

Right. But I know you do start with "Pilot," and I just actually got a chance to see [the second episode] "Rehearsal." I love the ending where you see that big human hand come down and then you realize that it really is this little tiny miniature set . . .

The set being broken down. That was good, yeah. That's like three-year-old footage. That's cool because that's some of the original footage. The original footage of them tearing down the set, we've had that for years, we've just never had a reason to use it. So it was cool that we could use it.

Who were your favorite cartoon characters as a kid?

Um . . . boy . . . My dad would come down and watch cartoons with us all the time and we would watch Super Friends and Space Ghost. Space Ghost really wasn't my favorite, though. I always liked the Herculoids, and Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle was always my favorite. All those Filmation Tarzan, Batman, Lone Ranger, Zorro cartoons; Fat Albert was big.

So those were all contemporary cartoons that were running at the time?

Um-hm. But Warner Bros., I always liked Sylvester a lot. Sylvester was always my favorite. Even today, it was nice when I was in programming to be able to work with those Warner Bros. cartoons and actually see the birth of those cartoons and how they were developed and stuff like that. I just love, like, the original Sylvesters. There's one that's amazing where Elmer Fudd is trying to sleep and he's outside, like yelling and screaming and singing and stuff. It's just really, really funny.

On Cartoon Network, on the Tex Avery hour, whenever the last one was, they had the original Bugs Bunny episode with Elmer before Bugs really looked like Bugs.

Yeah. That's another thing I'll probably be working on after Space Ghost is finished. We're going to do more Toon Heads where we show the evolution of the characters and also pay tribute to different directors of cartoons, instead of just Tex Avery. I had the idea of doing a Chuck Jones show but that's probably later on in '98.

One reason Cartoon Planet has to come back is we've got to have Brak's Monday Ratings Report again. I really miss that.

Yeah. We were worried about that, actually. Mike was insistent on us doing a ratings report and we kept saying, we can't do that cause there's some FCC rule or something, you can't tell people how you're doing cause that just kind of screws up the rating system or something like that. I don't know exactly the laws or whatever. But Pete thought of this way to do it which is to just make them up.

And turn the charts upside down.

Yeah. Like, "Hey guys, we're not doing very well." Just do it in a vague way, so we're not saying, you know, our ratings suck. They're all just kind of made up. So I don't know what's going to happen [with Cartoon Planet]. I know that probably scares people when I say that. But I'm sure, you know, when these 26 episodes are over, we'll need something to work on. I would like to do more. We would definitely like to do more. It's a fun show to do and it's pretty effortless to write.

Because you don't have to build it around the interview or anything.

Yeah. It's not as easy as it looks, but Pete and I have this good thing going and since we're the characters it's, like, easy for us I guess. I don't know. Some people try and write for Brak. every once in a while we'll catch some scripts on the Internet that people write. And they'll just make Brak stupid.

How many letters do you get a week?

Me? I don't know, maybe . . . Space Ghost gets a lot of letters.

They told me you got the most mail or rather Brak got the most mail.

Brak does, and a lot of them are addressed to Cartoon Planet, but if they're addressed to Brak, they get to me. I'm not good at answering mail because I'm a jerk. I'm not a jerk, but I just, you know, I let mail accumulate. I'm good at--I can answer e-mail. Usually I try to answer mail, but I'm just bad at it. As is everyone probably. [rummaging through some cluttered piles of papers and mail] This is a black hole. I got second place in most messiest offices.

Who got first place?

I think it was [TNT VP of programming] Phil Oppenheim. [rummaging some more] I can't find any pictures. I got a nice postcard of Amish people. [pulls it out] And it's funny, because Ohio's Amish country. I know this area very well. 'Cause a lot of my family grew up in Northern Ohio.

I'm from Northern Ohio, too. And I went to the College of Wooster, which is right in Amish country.

Really? That's like right next to Orville. My grandma lives in Orville, that's where my mom grew up.

And my great-grandma lived in Sugar Creek and that's where my grandma grew up, and my great-aunt and uncle live there and they have the Swiss festival every year and a lot of my family heritage on my mom's side is in Sugar Creek. And there's like some old historic pictures of like my ancestors and stuff like that. So it's like really cool. My dad grew up in Columbus. I grew up totally in Ohio. My parents still live in Ohio. My whole family like lives in Ohio.

Ohio builds good stock. Some great things came out of Ohio, like Chrissie Hynde . . .

. . . and Wayne Newton . . .

. . . and Pere Ubu . . .

. . . and Paul Lynde. [laughs]

Yeah. [laughs] So how did you get to Atlanta? You went to school here or something?

I went to school in Asbury College in Kentucky and my professor had a lot of connections. I, like, freelanced for ABC Sports a couple times and stuff like that through college, and I came down here for the National Association of Broadcasters conference with a group of students. This was, like, a month after I graduated in like March of '90. I came down here and visited CNN and thought, you know, I could work here. So I put in an application and didn't get hired, and just came down here after college and did an internship in sports. It's weird that they took me since I wasn't a student, but I did an internship in CNN Sports. I'm not a sports nut at all, I really hate sports. But it was like an easy internship, and I heard that if you had an internship and did a good job you were pretty much hired into the company. So I did an internship for like a few months and then the Gulf war broke out and there wasn't much to do in sports then. Before I went home, I put an application in at CNN one more time, and I was hired about two or three months later. I think my old roommate helped me out just to get the papers flying around. It was good to have somebody within CNN pushing your name around and stuff. So I got into CNN and I was there for a year and found the job here [at Cartoon Network], like, on the company bulletin board.

It doesn't sound like you were on this straight path of like 'I'm going into animation.'

Yeah, it's like, my mom always would bug me because I always watched too much TV and I never like read books or anything. And my brother and I would always make little recordings on the tape player and I would go out with my friend Wally in high school and make videos and stuff. And at the time I never thought it would amount to anything, till I took broadcasting in college and then it, you know, took me a year and a half to find the job at CNN. I did a lot of crappy work before that, working in a folding and binding factory making sure these machines ran and folded these stupid brochures and stuff. I hated that. I did that for three weeks and I believe I was fired from that job.

You didn't fold and bind correctly?

No. I was told to replace this guy at this one machine and the guy didn't like tell me what to do, he was like well, you just make sure these go in the right way. So I thought I was doing it right, and I guess I screwed up about like 400, 4,000, something like that, brochures. 'Cause they were folded wrong. So the manager brought me in his office--it was a temp job--and he said, "I don't think we're going to need your help anymore." So he signed my little temp form and I left. So you know that just was terrible. But I worked at a pizza place before I worked at CNN. That was like my big job.

Oh, well. I mean, everybody goes through those early jobs.

Which is good. It's a good experience, it's good to go through all that garbage before you get to a point in your life where everything's cool.

What do your parents think now? Do they think that that was time well spent? All those hours in front of the TV?

My mom, you know, doesn't say, I wish you would have read more. My parents have always been really, really supportive of everything I've done. So they've always been, you know, very encouraging. I have a really good family and I talk to them all the time and so they're always really supportive of everything I do.

Do they like the show? Are they fans?

Yeah. Mm hmm. My grandma watches Cartoon Planet.

Really? That's neat.

She was happy that they finally got Cartoon Network in Orrville. And yeah, they watch it all the time and whenever we have new shows I make sure they know. So whenever they see something new they'll call up, you know, laughing and stuff like that.

That's pretty cool.

Yeah, it's nice. My brother doesn't have cable. Well, he has cable, but he has, like, the worst cable company in probably ever, like the cable company in Versailles, Kentucky. They're just terrible, they have like two of every network channel, NBC, ABC, Fox. And like hardly anything else, other than like American Movie Classics. It's just terrible. And my sister doesn't have cable.

But your grandma watches in Orville.

Yeah, and whenever my nephew's at my parents' house, when he was like younger he would always see me dancing on the screen and he'd dance along.

Oh, with the Space Ghost Dancer?

Yeah. [chuckles]

What a great uncle to have. I mean wouldn't you have liked to have had you as an uncle?

Yeah. I did have a couple really great uncles when I was growing up, but yeah. My brother and sister are both married and I'm the middle child so I just feel kind of like, okay, I'm stupid, I'm not married. I was feeling like that for a while, but when they finally had kids, both of them, I thought, well this is great, you know, 'cause I can at least have this.

And that's the best role, uncle. You don't have any of the father responsibilities.

[wistfully] Well, you know, I would at least like a girlfriend. But I like going to toy stores and buying all the cool things that are out there. And I like playing with my nephew and stuff, and my brother just had a child not too long ago, and it'll be cool to see him grow up too. It's just an amazing thing, you know. Just an amazing thing, just kids. I just . . . I like kids, I get along with kids.

I'm not surprised.

You know, once my nephew started to be able to talk, my sister would call me on the phone and she would say, he's got something to tell you. And I'd hear the phone being exchanged and I would hear this [in little-kid -trying-to-be-superhero voice] "I'm Superman." [chuckles] You know, it's just so . . . it made me laugh.

Has he ever given you any material you've used for Brak?

Um, no. He thinks he's Batman. No, not really. I really haven't touched that. We did do one thing with my nephew--we had like a contest or something or other here, not really a contest, it was just kids, send in your picture and we'll put your picture on a ghost or a scary vampire or something, and scare Scooby Doo. Something like that. It was around Halloween. And so when my nephew was pretty much an infant, you know, I had this one picture of him that I like gave to them, this one [shows picture of gnomish newborn]. They put his head on this vampire. [laughs] It was funny.

That's cool. What's your nephew's name?

Schuler.

What a neat name.

My other nephew is James. Schuler is named, I guess, after a family friend. Schuler James, and then there's James Robert. But James is just tiny, tiny. I saw him like a week after he was born, that's the youngest [baby] I've ever seen. I didn't even see Schuler that young, so it's kind of cool to experience, you know, a week-old relative of mine.

Yeah, that is cool. Back to Space Ghost Coast to Coast--do you think there's anything on the show that even those of us who think we are like the hippest aficionados may be missing? Some other level it's working on?

I don't know, I don't think there's anything . . . I mean, there's nothing cerebral about the show. I mean, we're all just a bunch of geeks writing for the show. There isn't much hidden stuff in any of the shows, you know. Cartoon Planet and Coast to Coast get mixed up all the time. I don't understand that, how people mix up those two shows, 'cause they're so different. One is completely written and strict to the script, and the other one, Cartoon Planet, relies more on not just the script but ad libs in the studio and stuff like that.

Right.

But I don't know of any hidden stuff, any deep things.

I sometimes see stuff when I see episodes over again that I didn't catch the first time.

You catch different things when you watch our shows, like more than once, but I think that's the case with a lot of shows, you know. Simpsons, it's more so just because they're able to animate their characters and there's a lot of visual comedy and stuff in The Simpsons that you can see but you don't see it the first time. Here, with us, we're just so limited in animation, it's almost like the opposite. You have to, like, watch it twice to hear certain things for the first time.

#space ghost #very long LOL #andy merrill #sgc2c #cartoon planet #every time he mentioned lokar they spelled it as locar and I had to go back and fix that #because I'm that kinda picky person #brak #also spent like a week trying to remember if incredulous was a real world until it was written here LOL

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lunar-tear · 6 years ago

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Chotto matte! You take head canon requests? Why didn't I know this before?! I want something for takasugi then. Would you do it? It doesn't matter if it's a hc or imagine. How about fight and make up? Angst with fluffy ending. The fight could be about his smoking or the million other flaws he has. Hope you do it for me.

I’ll write an imagine/fic for GinTaka, because Gin has on more than one occasion expressed his dislike towards smoking. Hope you like it!

(Post war on Edo)

“When are you going to put that stupid pipe down?” Gintoki asked. He was sitting on a chair which had been turned backwards. His arms rested on the top of the chair, lazily propping up his chin. He wore an expression of mild irritation. Gintoki didn’t like the smell of burning tobacco, and Takasugi knew.

“Old habits die hard, you know,” replied Takasugi. The smoke danced slowly around the room, letting itself be touched by the gentle sunlight filtering through the window where he stood. In bright sunlight, Takasugi’s purple hair looked beautiful. It fell gracefully at the sides of his temple. If he just wasn’t smoking, Gintoki might’ve actually appreciated the view in front of him.

Takasugi was looking elsewhere, his gaze fixated on the scenery outside. “I don’t see why you have a problem with it. From what I’ve heard, you have several companions who smoke a far more unhealthier amount of tobacco.”

Gintoki sighed. Of course he’d bring up those two idiots, Tsukuyo and Hijikata. But it was different between him and Takasugi. He wasn’t just another friend. And that’s exactly why he didn’t think over his next words.

“You know it’s not the same. You haven’t changed at all since you were a kid. You’re still the same idiot who cares only about himself. It’s annoying-” Gintoki suddenly shut his mouth. What he said was uncalled for, and more than that, it was wrong. He had let his heart think for him again.

Takasugi turned around in a flash, and was now directly facing Gintoki. His green eyes, usually cool and calculative, now looked sinister. It wasn’t like him to lose his temper so fast, but it was the way in which Gintoki said it that angered him. “I only care about myself?” Takasugi said slowly, tasting the bitterness of the words as they rolled on his tongue. “Do you really think that all those years, I only thought about myself?”

Gintoki was weary now. He sat up straight. He had messed up. He had gotten carried away, like he always did when it came to the topic of Takasugi smoking. “Of course he isn’t self-absorbed, you idiot”, he thought to himself. But as Takasugi slowly walked towards him, he couldn’t help but notice how good looking he was. He moved so smoothly, he almost appeared to be gliding. His bare feet hardly made a sound on the wooden flooring. In seconds, he stood in front of Gintoki, towering over him. With the handle of his clay pipe, Takasugi lifted up Gintoki’s chin, so that their eyes met. He uttered the words again. “I only care about myself, is it?”

“I didn’t mean to say that,” Gintoki said quietly. “It came out in the heat of the moment. I was wrong.”

“You’re damn right, you’re wrong.” Takasugi said, in a fit of rage. “I can’t even believe you’d say such a thing, after everything we’ve been through.” His tone had suddenly changed. His gaze had turned soft. He couldn’t stay mad at that stupid perm-head for long, especially when they weren’t even being competitive. Takasugi let out a small sigh, and smiled. He was so used to fighting with the guy. It came naturally at this point. Even so, he couldn’t deny that he had grown to love him.

Gintoki looked amused now. “What, you’re done being angry already? I thought you were gonna go all terminator on me, you know? I was getting ready for a brawl!” He laughed aloud. Takasugi was ready to kick him. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. “You’re an idiot, Gintoki,” he said. He really couldn’t stay mad at him for long. “You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

#tell me what you think!#this is the first time im trying my hand at fic writing #so it's definitely not my best #but still #gintaka #sakata gintoki #takasugi shinsuke #asks #thanks for asking!#gintama fic #aru writes stuff #new tag!#long post

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a-wanderin-whirlybird · 7 years ago

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Trust, Stress, and Love A Mighty Nein Fic

Ooookaaay. I’m gonna put my hand into the Critical Role fire and first gonna explain this web of a Poly ship I have for the Mighty Nein. Fjord, Caleb, Jester and Molly are a unit, Yasha and Beau are a unit and Nott has a massive crush on Yasha. So yeah not gonna explain the platonic and familial connections I headcannon here but enjoy the fluff!

Nott for all her abrasiveness and selfish tendencies, really did like the family she had found herself in. And, though she feared to even think of such a thing, she trusted them very quickly. Caleb was a given, he was her boy, but realizing that she trusts Beau, Fjord, Jester, Yasha and even Mollymauk scared her. But no matter how much her own trust scares her she wanted to show them all she cared, that she did trust them and wanted them to be ok. And for one of them she wanted to show them that she cared just a bit more. The plan arose after the failure of a heist at the High Richter’s home. Tensions were high, and everyone was stressed to hell and back. Nott had just realized how much she wanted to watch over these childish idiots, they had become her family as well. And the plan had entered her mind. Now it had been a year and it was done she just needed one more thing but... It required trust.

"Do you trust me?" Nott asked over dinner that night to the confused glances of the Mighty Nein. In a great stroke of luck even Yasha was there and she watched Nott carefully.

"Of course, Nott!" Jester said with a big smile.

"I'm more curious why you're asking." Fjord said in his slow drawl. "Don't think it’s that important right now."

"Oh, but it is. Because I've been doing something, and I need you to trust me when I finish the last bit of it." Nott said trying to dodge exactly what she had been doing.

"You're not planning on blowing up on of the Trispires are you?" Molly asked in his usual Casual voice.

"Oh no! Gods no! It’s a surprise but I need a bit of Hair from each of you. Just to finish it off."

"You're not cursing us or anything yeah? Cause if you are-"

"-You'll beat me senseless. I know Beau. But I promise that its good, but it’s not done, and you won’t know what it is until we need it. Please just trust me!" Nott begged. She wanted this to work.

Suddenly a matted lock of black and white hair was thrust into Notts hand and was quickly joined by a greasy red lock and a fluffy blue Lock. Nott looked up and smiled at Jester, Caleb, and Yasha.

"Thank you." Nott mumbled as a Lavender lock, a green lock and a brown lock joined the pot. Though the latter was given reluctantly.

"Now Nott, we are putting our trust in you blindly, try not to lose it." Molly warned, trying to look serious, but there was that playful twinkle in his eyes that showed when Molly was excited.

"I know. And I promise it won't hurt anyone." Nott then darted upstairs with a big worried smile. She was so close.

The next day Nott was gone before anyone woke up. She grabbed the hair and her bag and quickly made her way to the Invulnerable Vagrant. As she had for the last few months she snuck around back and knocked. One of the Pumatts opened the door with a beaming, if sleepy, smile.

"Well! Come on in little Lady! We have the last ritual all ready if you got the last ingredient."

"Yes! I have it and I'm ready!" Nott smiled as she hurried in. It would take some time before she knew if this all worked. But Nott could be patient when the need arose.

It took a week for Nott's surprise to reveal itself. Sadly, it wasn’t at the most opportune time. They were back in the Gentleman's presence when Molly, who had been subtly fidgeting as Cree stared him down, suddenly vanished in a puff of peacock feathers. Nott mentally smiled, the exit had occurred as she wanted but now she had to do damage control. It was surprisingly easy to lie to the collected criminals about what happened. She simply said that 'Lucien' likely wanted to go check on something and used a magic item to teleport. It helped that the Gentleman trusted her more now. After that things went downhill.

Beau was the next one to vanish, her anger getting the better of her and she vanished in a puff of fluttering blue fabric. Which in turn made Jester, Caleb, and Yasha vanish. Jester vanished in a puff of glitter, Yasha had flower petals, and Caleb had paper. Fjord waited to round on Nott until they reached the tavern where he immediately vanished in a puff of green smoke. Nott nodded and whispered a command word to join her family, leaving behind a plain bag on the floor of her room.

Nott popped into existence in a maze of pottery and glass. It was all still intact which made Nott worry.

"She probably didn’t find it yet. Its fine." Nott muttered to herself as she made her way past the maze and to a large space filled with paints, paper, clay, and all manner of art supplies, also all untouched. Nott really began to worry as she passed the beach, the game filled alley, the sparring ring, and the library and all had been untouched. Maybe it had failed? Maybe they had vanished, and Nott had just lost the family she fallen so hard into.

"Nott?" Nott froze as she was darting through the stocked outdoor kitchen and turned to find Yasha, an arm full of all kinds of flowers and a bag of books behind her. Nott released a shaky breath at the sight of Yasha. A small blush crossed her hooded face at Yasha’s almost soft and innocent stare.

"I-is everyone here? They're ok?" Nott shakily asked, Yasha nodded.

"They're in the field. Nott did you-" Nott didn’t hear a word Yasha said, she was rushing off to the Flower Field. That Field took four months to finish and every ounce of Nott's intelligence to make. Nott was relieved to find everyone sitting in the field staring around at the blue sky and the rolling clouds as a light breeze blew by. Jester turned to see Nott and dashed towards Nott scooping her up into a massive hug.

"Nott this place is amazing! Did you make this?" Jester asked in a whisper as the rest of the party joined. Caleb joined the hug wordlessly as Nott nodded.

"Yeah, well everyone gets stressed all the time and I thought a place just for us where we could relax, and you know, be us would be good."

"How much did this cost?" Fjord asked. " I imagine you didn’t do it alone and this could not be cheap."

"The Pumatts helped a lot but don’t worry about it."

"You didn’t sell yourself to some shady business, did you? Do we have to beat someone up for you?" Beau asked cracking her knuckles.

"No! No no! I just have to help Pumatt with a new spell he's working on. And well I don’t have a collection anymore but that's ok. This is better." Nott said, her voice muffled by the now growing group hug she was enveloped in.

"Nott, you didn't need to do this." Caleb whispered sounding more relaxed than ever.

And that’s why she did it. Everyone was always stressed. None of them really had a childhood. That’s what all the games were for. And sometimes you just needed to break stuff, or draw, or find a quiet corner out in a field or by a lake shore. Or maybe a nice meal in peace.

“What is this place even?” Fjord asked looking around at the Mountain rimmed valley. “Is it a Pocket Dimension or what?”

“Well no. Um we are in a bag, but the bag is more like a portal to a Valley in the Wilds. Pumatt and I spent a long time finding a good Spot with enough Ley Lines to get the Protection enchantments set up.” Nott fidgeted a bit as Fjord and Molly joined the group hug. In her nervousness Nott used an age old nervous habit of hers. She info dumped.

“See I wanted to make sure you didn’t feel like you were in a confined space cause Molly and Caleb don’t like those, Jester likes the sky, Fjord and Yasha are used to open spaces and Beau always looks happier outside of a building. But doing a Dimensional Pocket wouldn’t give you that you’d know you were in a pocket and an enclosed space, so we decided doing a portable portal to a secured place in the wilds would work best. So we spent two months using a lot of divination to find a good place and we found here and no monsters come here and no travelers come through here because there is no resources or roads but we still needed to make it safe and no random person or monster could wander in and the Gentleman couldn’t track us so Pumatt and I made protective enchantments but we had to invent them ourselves and once they were in place I had to get it all nice and warm. So I sold my Collection to get the supplies I needed to dam up a River and divert it down here and make the lake and beach and get water for the field and so I could build the Kitchen and the Library and stock it and so I could get the alchemy ingredients to change the weather from cold and snowy to nice and comfortable and I had to talk to so many kids to figure out what Games they like and how to play them and I bought out about 30 potters and glassmakers and Pumatt enchanted everything so they will repair themselves and the Kitchen will never run out of food and I had to figure out how to plant the flowers and get them to grow and I had to go into Chastity Nook to get all those romance and smut novels for Jester and some specially picked ones for Beau and Molly and lots of History books, and other stuff that Fjord and Caleb would like and Yasha too. And the Sparring arena took a lot of time cause I had to sneak into the Kobold Sol to see what they had and by then I had no money so I did a lot of work for the Gentleman so I could get the money and stuff I needed quickly and then I needed your hair so that The portal enchantment would recognize you and if you got too stressed or needed an out it would teleport you here there’s even a safe word and its Hawk so if you need to go quick without waiting you can just say it and If you want to leave you say Lollipop and- oof!” Nott was very quickly smothered by her family giving her the biggest hug, even Beau had joined in.

“Nott… thank you.” Molly whispered.

“You really did good. This... This is amazing.” Yasha said a little awkwardly.

“Yeah. ya did good.” Beau added.

“Nott. this is amazing. You did amazing, thank you.” Fjord said his voice a bit shaky.

“We can keep adding stuff to it I think. But we can’t really sleep here because it’s a portal in a flimsy bag and if it breaks then everything falls to shit here. but uh, it is ah good... it’s good.” Caleb added, knowledgeable as ever.

“Nott just one question,”

“Yes Jester?”

“What does Pumatt and the Gentleman want in return for all this?” Jester asked, fear trickling into her voice as the Group hug separated, though Caleb kept holding Nott on his hip.

“Oh well, I just did some Sensitive jobs for the Gentleman that were high stakes and I did them really well. Pumatt had to call in some favors from the Cerberus people and so he wants me to test a new enchantment he’s working on and report the effects to him. He said I might like the Spell’s effects so I’m not too worried, but I will have to stay at his shop for a week or two.”

“Oh Nott.” Jester said with a Little gasp.

“Nott. You really... that’s a lot. Just for us? That....” Yasha trailed off unsure what to do, Nott was a bit hypnotized by the light blush on Yasha’s face. Beau... Beau and Molly looked to each other and to Fjord who nodded.

“Right we can discuss that later. Now Nott you know how to play those games yeah? Care to teach us?” Nott brightened and nodded. This was good. Very good.

As Fjord, Jester, Caleb and Yasha were led away by Nott, Beau and Molly turned to each other. Beau hissed.

“I have the Gentleman. You go to Pumatt.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Molly sneered. “If that fuck tries anything kick his ass.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you.” and with that they both spoke the exit word and moved through the tavern and out into the city at Dusk.

First, Beau moved to the Evening Nip proper. She bustled down with a dangerous air, and the Gentleman smiled, like he was expecting perhaps a request for a job. Beau slammed one of the many business ends of her staff down on the sweaty elf’s table and glared him down.

“What the fuck do you have on Nott? Whatever the fuck it is I want it gone. Now.” It was satisfying to see the Gentleman’s face screw up in confusion and... Oh! Ooooh! There was some fear there! Oh, that was beautiful! She had to get Jester to immortalize this and stick it in the new Kitchen for the future.

“I... do not know what you mean.” He said, carefully.

“You know that I know that you know what I mean.” Beau hissed, leaning in real close to the elf’s sweaty face. “She took some shadier than usual jobs from you. Things that she won’t mention outright but you can use to blackmail her later. I know how this dance goes. I’ve fucking danced it myself so I’m cutting it off here, now.” Beau’s grip on her staff tightened as she whipped around and smashed it into the Goliath’s face, she then brought down the end of the staff and vaulted herself up and kicked the Ogre in the face. The two went down like a sack of bricks. As the Gunslingers took aim she flipped back and pulled a dagger, holding it to the Gentleman’s throat.

“Woah, woah! No need for that!” The Gentleman coughed. “Men, please. Put those away. Cree? Please fetch the... contracts for our friend Nott’s work. And get Cara to cover any... extra tracks.”

Everyone started moving except Beau and the Gentleman. Only once Beau watched as every single bit of evidence of Nott’s involvement in any incident in the city or beyond was erased did Beau release the Gentleman. She made a show of scraping the ashes away and with a smirk walked silently out of the Evening Nip, right as she reached the open air, Beau vanished in a flurry of blue fabric.

While Beau made an impression on the Gentleman, Molly strode to the Invulnerable Vagrant. He had purpose and he looked uncharacteristically grim. Nott put a great deal of trust and love into the little Family Molly had found and joined. Molly was never one to think too much on things but... the entire deal with Pumatt sounded wrong. He needed to at least know what it was Pumatt was planning.

“Ah, it’s good to see you again my friend.” One of the many Pumatt’s drawled. “Did you like the Little Lady’s surprise?”

“Oh, we certainly love it but there is one little thing that needs discussing.” Molly said leaning against the counter.

“Ah well, if something’s wrong with any of the enchantments we’ll be happy to fix them for yea.”

“It’s not about the Magic friend, that works wonderfully. It’s the matter of the deal you and Nott made.” the Pumatt’s brow furrowed.

“Ah I see you’re worried about the agreement. Do not worry the spell we are working on is something very good, we just don’t want the Little Lady getting hurt and not be close by, so we can fix it yea see?”

“I understand that completely, but it would put us more at ease if we knew what you were trying to accomplish.” Pumatt twisted his lips into a confused pout.

“One moment.” The Pumatt then vanished into the back room. For a while there were some hushed whispers that put Molly at ill ease. Then Pumatt prime appeared.

“Alright. I understand your fear, so I’ll even show you what we are working on, but you have to promise me one thing yea hear.”

“Of course.” Molly said.

“Don’t tell the little Lady. It’s a surprise for her.” Molly nodded and joined Pumatt Prime in his workshop, his worry slowly fading away.

After a long day of Showing her new family their new hidden safe space, which they named the Nein Valley, Nott and the others went to sleep. Nott watched as Beau and Molly whispered with everyone else. When she asked about it Molly just told her they tied up a lose end and that they trust her and asked if she trusted them.

It took a lot of effort to admit that she did out loud, but it made Molly smile and even Beau smiled her terrifying smile. It was good to. Nott turned to Caleb with a little smile and caught a glance at Yasha. A small sigh and a frown pulling at her lips. She had done good. Very good. It FELT good to! But. But…

She was still a Goblin. Always a Goblin. And sure, Caleb never said that he cared and Jester put flowers in her hair and call her pretty. But. Yasha never looked. That was something Nott secretly wished, she wanted Yasha to look. To really look. And maybe to see someone pretty.

But that wouldn’t happen. Nott knew that. It was like she told Molly under that Charm spell. She needed to change. She wanted to be normal, and pretty. Maybe then Yasha would look at her.

Then the next morning Nott went to Pumatt’s like she had for an entire year, bright and early. When she entered the Magical ritual, she had seen Pumatt Prime make for 5 months was finally ready with the four Pumatt’s waiting in their places. Pumatt 2 (Nott had learned how to tell which one was which, she did not know what to do with this knowledge) smiled and beckoned her into the center of the ritual circle.

“Alright Little Lady, just sit there, now you may get sleepy, that’s fine you can go ahead and fall asleep. Now yea ready?” Nott nodded nervously as she sat.

The ritual lit up and after a few minutes Nott suddenly crashed into unconsciousness. which was fortunate, Pumatt 3 would not later. She wasn’t awake to feel the sudden large surge of magic wash through her. Two hours later the ritual stopped and the Pumatts smiled as they began to check the Sleeping Nott over.

Caleb and Molly waited in the front of the Invulnerable Vagrant, Pumatt had sent for them a few hours ago stating that Nott was good to leave, and they didn’t need to wait a full week. He did not mention if the spell was a success or failure, so Molly was trying to comfort Caleb while the man paced nervously. When Pumatt walked out with Nott wrapped in a blanket Caleb shot forward and took his friend from Pumatt, not even stopping to look down. Molly sauntered over and smiled.

“So. This was your spell?” Molly asked as Caleb held onto the sleeping Nott.

“Yea well, the Little Lady spent a few long nights here and mentioned a few things here and there. We figured she could use a nice gift to yea know?” Molly smiled as Caleb gasped.

Nott woke up feeling warm, and with a light breeze washing over her. She blinked in the bright sunlight of the Nein Valley sitting up from her spot in the Nesting grounds as Jester named the pit full of blankets and pillows. As Nott tried to stand a blue hand shot up and pulled her back into a cuddle pile that had formed around her. As Nott went tumbling down she caught sight of something odd.

Her skin was a deep brown and her hair was tightly curled, poufy, and black. Nott started to shake. Jester sat up pulling Nott into a hug and yawned.

“You awake Nott?”

“What? What is it?” Nott hissed between breaths.

“Pumatt’s spell worked, do you want to see?” Jester asked already reaching into her bag of holding and pulling out a mirror. Nott didn’t say anything, she just gasped.

She was a young, normal, Halfling girl. With brown eyes, Brown curly hair, and tan skin, her ears were pointed but not as big as they used to be. Nott felt like crying.

“I’m... I’m normal.” Fjord sat up from beneath Jester, pulling them both into a hug.

“It’s a more powerful Disguise Self spell. No one can dispel it but you, and it doesn’t show as a spell. But if you ever want to go back to be your nice Goblin self you can. You can also be your equally nice Halfling self.” Fjord said with a yawn. Nott froze.

“You... you like me as a Goblin?” Nott asked her voice shaky.

“Of course!” Molly said sitting up, his arms and leg’s tangled with Caleb’s. He pulled Caleb up with him as he rose, and Caleb blinked. “You’re Nott either way.”

“You’re still our slippery little thief either way.” Beau said from Yasha’s lap. “Oh, by the way, The Gentleman sends his regards, and all proof of your involvement with him is ashes.”

“You beat the crap out of his men, didn’t you?” Fjord asked, and Beau laughed.

“Hell, yeah I did! Jester drew a picture of the Gentleman’s face when I did it!”

“It’s a really good face.” Jester said with a giggle.

“But so, I can be a Halfling as much as I want? And you guys don’t care if I am not a Halfling? But...” Nott trailed off and Yasha moved over and picked up Nott from Jester’s Lap. There was a gasp as Yasha kissed Nott, right on the lips. Beau whistled.

“Hot! when do I get one?” Beau teased and got flicked on the head by a laughing Caleb.

“Uh... what?” Nott asked.

“Nott I’ve wanted to kiss you since we cleared out the Will-o Wisps. You’re beautiful as a Goblin and as a Halfling.” Yasha hissed quickly.

“But... I thought you liked Beau?” Nott asked Beau laughed.

“Girl’s got a lot of love for us Ladies. I like you Nott but not like that. But I’m willing to share Yasha since Yasha’s willing.” Nott suddenly blushed. This had to be a dream.

“Ow!” Nott squeaked as Jester pinched her.

“Nnnnope! Not a dream!” Crap she said that out loud!

“Yeah you did.” Molly teased.

“Still didn’t get your answer Nott! Yasha wants to date you Goblin or not!” Beau called. Nott nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah ok! I do want to try this! Yes!” Nott exclaimed kissing Yasha herself to the snickers and cheers of the family around her.

Trust built families. Trust built lives. Trust built love. And Nott would be damned if she didn’t love these people and trusted them with all her soul. And they loved her to.

#Critical role #The mighty nein #Nott the brave #caleb widogast #fjord critical role #Mollymauk #Yasha #Jester #Beau #fluff

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mrsjihyunkim · 7 years ago

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20 Seconds of Bravery Ch 19

Man. Sorry updates are so slow. Life has been hectic. Thank you all for your patience ♥ Oh and I should also mention that there are spoilers from my other story Dear Mom if you haven’t read that one yet.

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It took me while to notice that not only was it morning but also that Jumin was awake and staring at me. He cleared his throat and I nearly fell off the couch. Jumin walked across the floor and handed me my stylus that had fallen. "My apologies MC. I didn't mean to scare you. I just didn't expect to see you up this early. Have you been up long?"

"Depends. Can you wake up if you never went to sleep."

"I see. You should really get some sleep. It's not healthy to stay up so much." I shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm used to it. Before meeting V I always had restless sleep patterns." He sat on the couch next to me and peered at my screen. "Is this digital art?" I nodded at him as he studied my work. "It's quite amazing. I knew you had talent but this is beyond my expectations. It might even be better than V's art." I blushed and shook my head.

"An artist is only as good as their inpirations and intentions. That's what my mom always told me." Jumin seemed confused so I explained. "V is my inpiration and freedom and love are my intentions. If none of those were good then the art would be lacking and be very negative."

"I see. So it's like how having good business partners will make your business better." I nodded and smiled at him. "Fascinating. I normally don't understand art very well but having you explain it makes it seem very simple. You're an excellent teacher." I laughed a little and sighed sadly.

"That used to be the goal. I originally went to school to become an art teacher but then my anxiety got bad so I switched to graphic design. Jake didn't really help with that either." Jumin listened intently with a serious look on his face.

"I see. Well I hope that one day you are able to achieve your dream." I smiled at him and saved my drawing on the computer. "V said that the night of your accident you two were coming up from your studio. Does that mean you do more than digital art?"

"Yeah. I'm a pretty decent painter and I love to work with charcoal. I've also dabbled with clay and metal work." Jumin almost had a sparkle in his eye.

"Fascinating. I have a business deal for you MC." I raised an eyebrow at him and he smiled. "C&R is about to expand into the creative arts, so after V's operation, I would like you to teach me about art. I will of course compensate you for all the materials that you need." I began to chuckle at how serious he was and it made me feel better.

"Jumin you don't need to pay me, and I'm sorry for laughing. You're just always dressed so neatly and picturing you in a messy studio is amusing. Of course you can come to my studio and learn." He smiled at me and held out his hand. I shook it and he stood up from the couch.

"Alright. I need to leave for the office now but we can work out more details later. Will you tell V I said goodbye?" I nodded and he headed out the door. After talking to Jumin I felt more relaxed and not as restless. I closed my laptop and walked over to a nearby bookshelf. There were mostly business books but I saw a copy of my favorite book, Dorian Grey. "Looks like I just keep having things in common with Jumin." I said to myself. At first I tried reading on the couch but it wasn't all that comfy now that I was feeling drowsy. I quietly crept back into the bedroom and saw that V was still sleeping. He looked so peaceful and calm that I just stood there forgetting about the book in my hands. It didn't seem to matter how many times I saw him but every time I did my heart strings got all tangled up and I fell hard. We had been together about a month if you counted my coma time and yet without fail he continued to stay with me. I used to think that he would of gotten bored of me an left with in the first week, but he didn't. It was beginning to come clear that he truly loved me despite how broken and flawed I was. I always believed that I wasn't worthy of love or family and that I would die alone, but V was changing all of that. I could feel this feeling stirring inside of me and it was getting stronger. I wanted to change and be a better person and I actually believed that it was possible. My mom always told me that real love was powerful enough to move mountains and change the world. I moved over to the bed and laid down next to V. He stirred a little bit but didn't wake up. I opened up my book and V's arm snaked over my waist and I smiled. With him next to me I suddenly felt even more drowsy and I barely read the first few pages before I fell back asleep.

When I woke up I didn't see V but the clock on the wall said that it was well past noon. I sat up in a groggy state and saw all three cats on the bed. The bedroom door was half open and I could hear some faint noise. I carefully stood up as not to disturb the cats and headed out the door. When I got out there I saw Jane sitting on the couch looking at her phone. She noticed my presence without even looking up from her phone. "Morning MC. If you're looking for V, Saeyoung took him to a doctor appointment." It was weird to have her read me so easily and I started to feel awkward. Jane was one of the only people in the RFA who I had yet to spend any time with so I didn't know her very well. I didn't know what to say to her or anything.

"So you got stuck babysitting me then?" Now she looked up from her phone and raised an eyebrow at me.

"I wouldn't really call it babysitting. More of keeping you company because your ex keeps traumatizing you. Plus I felt like you could use some girl time." I felt bad for sounding so grumpy just a minute ago.

"Sorry. I can be a little grumpy when I first wake up. It's good to see you again Jane." She smiled and patted the seat next to her. I walked over and sat down next to her. She handed me the phone she had been look at and I became confused.

"V said that you broke yours last night, so Saeyoung brought you a new one over. I went ahead and set it up for you while you were sleeping." I stared in shock as I looked over the phone. It was a brand new model much better than my old one.

"Thank you. He didn't have to do that though, this must of been expensive." She waved her hand and smiled.

"Please, don't worry about it. My husband has boxes of various electronics around the house. We can stand to part with it." I laughed with her and she smiled. "It also has the RFA app on it so you can talk with everyone on there. It's going to be a little confusing at first but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it."

"So does that make me part of the RFA then?" She nodded at me and smiled.

"Welcome to the family, Sis." I felt my eyes start to water and she smiled sweetly at me. "I know, it feels great to be part of a family doesn't it?" I was both happy and confused by her words.

"It really does. I gave up my dream of belonging to a family a long time ago." She pulled me into a hug and it felt so good. I used to have foster sisters but they never hugged me or got close.

"I was the same way before I met everyone. I grew up with no one and was very distant when I met the RFA. Then I fell in love with the biggest idiot on the planet. They all had absolutely no reason to trust me or anything but they did."

"Can I ask why you were an orphan?" Her eyes turned a bit sad but she nodded.

"My mom died when I was a kid and my dad wanted nothing to do with me so I was on my own. It's actually quite a long story for another time. I'm just glad you're happy about joining us." We smiled at each other and then I remembered Jumin telling me how Jane and Saeyoung saved V.

"That reminds me, thank you for saving V. I don't really know what happened but Jumin said that you and Saeyoung saved V from Mint Eye, so thank you." She blushed a little bit and smiled.

"So you haven't heard the whole story yet?" I shook my head and she laughed a little bit. "Wow you must really love V to just ignore his past like that."

"I don't ignore it. I just don't push him to talk about it because I know it's sensitive. He's told me most of it, just not every detail. I haven't told him everything about my past either."

"That's a fair point. Do you want me to tell you the short version?" I nodded and she sat back on the couch. "Well basically Saeyoung and I used to work for the same intelligence agency, so when we learned that my father had teamed up with Rika we used our combined skills to take them down. When it was over though Rika became super psycho and tried to shoot V but I managed to knock him out of the way." My face was in shock and she just nodded. "I know it sounds like some cliche action movie but I swear that all happened."

"I don't doubt you I just never thought Rika would go that far." I paused trying to find the right words. "What a bitch." I covered my mouth after I said it. I didn't know if Jane was close to Rika like everyone else. She began to laugh and I realized that my words didn't bother her.

"That's a lot nicer than what I expected you to say, but you're right. She really was a crazy one and the way she manipulated people was scary. Poor Saeran was so under her thumb that he had split personalities for a while there. He had a very rough recovery because of her and if you ask me she deserved much worse that what she got."

"V told me she was far away getting help but he didn't really go beyond that." Jane rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. See do to the extent of her charges and being partners with my father, Jumin couldn't protect her anymore, but before he could turn her over to the police Yoosung and Zen sent her to to Alaska. They said she could heal in peace there." She rolled her eyes and took a drink of the tea in front of her. "I personally think she should rot in prison with my father but I know she didn't mean as much to me as everyone else."

"I know what you mean. Everyone keeps asking me questions about what she was like when we were young and it's hard not to be honest. She was awful and even though I don't harbor any hate towards her, the truth about her makes it sound like I do. I also don't want to confuse any one any more than they already are."

"That's understandable, but enough talking about her. You should hurry up and go get dressed." I gave her a look and she smiled. "I told you we're having a girls day. You need to get out of this boring penthouse and get some good greasy food." I fitgedted some what on the couch but smiled at her offer.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" She rolled her eyes again and pulled me off the couch.

"Of course I'm sure. I promise you're 100% safe with me. Plus you definitely need some girl time, a new outfit, and I need some spicy talk on V." I blushed and her eyes went wide. "So you guys did do it!" My face turned completely red and I hurried to the bedroom. I could hear Jane laughing as I pulled on some clothes. When I came back out in the living room she had a smug look on her face as she tossed me my jacket. I glared at her and she laughed a bit. "What? My mom always said that if you can't talk about sex then you shouldn't be having it." Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"I can talk about it, you just caught me off guard. Let's just go get some food." I put my jacket on and headed towards the door. She didn't say thing until we were halfway down the elevator.

"So is the sex good?" I started thinking back to that night and couldn't help but smile. "I'll take that as a yes. Damn you guys move faster than Saeyoung and I did. Saeyoung asked if we could wait until we were married before we did it and that was hard."

"I honestly didn't expect it so fast. I haven't had sex since I was with Jake and none of that was fun. In fact is was never even wanted. Then I found out that Jake was out of jail and something changed in me. That night the future became so unsure and in that moment I wanted to give V everything I had." The elevator dinged and I realized everything I said and blushed. We got off the elevator and Jane hooked our arms together.

"That's really romantic. You guys really are perfect for each other." I continued to blush and we walked out of the building into the huge plaza. This had been the first time I'd been outside since that day I had to go get V. The sun was warm but the breeze made it comfortably cool. "Saeyoung tries to be romantic but he usually ends up turning it into some kind of joke which I think is better. Before I met him I never really laughed so I found his childish humor charming. The first time we had sex he was a blushing mess and refused to let me take over." She laughed a little and her eyes had a fondness in them.

"I'm glad that you two make each other happy. I hope everyone can find that kind of happiness." She smiled at me and seemed to agree. "So where should we eat?" My stomach growled at the mention of food and I realized that I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.

"I know an awesome food truck near buy. They have the best dumplings." I smiled at her as she lead the way. Once we were at the truck it didn't take long for us to get our food. We made pleasant small talk in between bites. I couldn't believe that I had been so nervous to talk to her just an hour ago. Now it seemed like we'd known each other for years. After eating our food Jane dragged me to several stores to find what she called the perfect date outfit. I rejected all of them because they seemed like something you'd wear to a night club.

"Jane none of these outfits are my style. They're way to sexy for me to pull off."

"Don't talk like that. You look amazing in anything." She said as she thrusted a a short, strapless, black dress. I held it up and looked at it in horror.

"No way Jane. I have t-shirts longer than this. Plus I'm too curvy and the fabric will just ride up." She looked at the dress thinking about what I said and took it away.

"Valid point. I'll try it on instead." I rolled my eyes as she pulled a few more things off the racks. "Alright let's hit the dressing room." We headed back over to the dressing rooms and I looked through all the clothes. Most of them were either too short or super low cut and I didn't bother trying them on. Then I noticed a burgundy dress with a halter top neck. I took the dress and held it up against my body and it looked decent. I pulled it on after removing my jeans and shirt. I tied the neck and looked in the mirror. It hit in the middle of my knees and had a plunging v neck line, but it still looked classy. I tried spinning in it and the way the dress unfurled looked like a movie dress. The dress was so distracting that I didn't even hear Jane yelling on the other side of the door. "MC come on out and let me see something." I took a deep breathe opened the door. She whistled at me and I blushed.

"It dosen't look stupid does it?" She shook her head and I tucked some hair behind my ear.

"Are you sure? I feel like it's too much skin. Are you sure I don't look like a hooker?" She laughed and dragged me over to the mirrors. I could now see myself in every angle.

"No way. I think you need to get this dress for your date tonight. Not only is is V's favorite color but you look super hot in it." I smiled at her words as I looked in the mirror. I really did like this dress and it was simple enough for any occasion, so I could wear it often.

"I think I will get it. I really like it." I gave the dress one last spin and we both laughed. Jane was right I really did need a girls day. "Hey Jane. This has been a really fun afternoon, thank you." She smiled at me and pulled me into a hug.

"Funny I was about to say the same thing to you." I gave her a curious look and she smiled. "You brought peace to V and everyone else. Since the whole mint eye thing everyone has been really confused, emotionally speaking. You've helped everyone sort out the emotions and for that I thank you." I was blushing again and then she grabbed my hands. "Enough of this sappy talk. Go change so we can pay for that dress and go do your hair and stuff." She was pushing me back towards the dressing room and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Alright I'm going, I'm going." As soon as I got back into the dressing room I heard a phone go off. I thought it was mine until I heard Jane talking. I tried my best to to eavesdrop but it was hard because she was right next to me. The way she answered the phone made it obvious she was talking to Saeyoung. I was putting on my street clothes back on while she sat outside talking. Her voice sounded cheerful but in a fake customer service way. When I stepped out of the dressing room I saw that her face was actually very annoyed. When she saw me she rolled her eyes and pointed to the phone. She then ended the phone call and laughed a little.

"Sorry about that. I forgot to tell V and Saeyoung that we were leaving the penthouse and ditching the body guards. It freaked them out a little bit." It felt like all the color drained from my face as I realized that we left so suddenly.

"I should probably call V shouldn't I?" Jane shook her head.

"Nope we're too busy to make phone calls. They know you're in safe hands." She grabbed my hand and began dragging me to the register. After leaving the store with my dress she insisted that I needed matching shoes and my nails done. She wanted to get our hair done too but I managed to talk her out of that one. I liked my hair the way it was and didn't need any help with it. By the time we were done with all of that the sun was starting to set and I was feeling tired.

"Jane not that I haven't been having fun, but I should probably get back to the penthouse soon. It's already past six and I still have to get ready." She looked at her watch and her eyes widened.

"Damn, you're right. Good think the building is only two blocks away. Let's get a move on girl!" I smiled at her and we headed back. We walked silently for a couple minutes before Jane said something. "Oh MC, I was wondering something. Do you always carry a gun when you travel outside?" I almost stopped walking because her question caught me so off guard. I thought it was perfectly concealed and I blushed.

"Yes. It's the only way I feel safe going anywhere. I stopped doing it once Jake was in jail and Alex left me alone, but recently it's the only way I feel safe when I go places. I don't like carrying it but it's better than being defenseless."

"I understand that. Before I met Saeyoung I worked with gun and he didn't like it one bit. I'll tell you this though, don't ever pull the trigger. Killing someone will change you and not for the better." Her face was serious and I could read the pain in her eyes.

"I'm aware of that. Carrying it really has me torn. I don't want to die but I also don't want to kill anyone, even if it's Jake. It's like a double edge sword and I'm scared of both outcomes. Does that even make any sense?"

"It does. It makes you a good person who still has an innocence inside of them. Starting tomorrow I'm going to train you so that you don't need the gun. I promise that you won't have to be afraid anymore." I smiled at her as we walked back into the C&R building. She pressed the elevator button and we waited. "Just be ready cause it's going to be hard at first but you seem capable enough to get the hang of my training." The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside. Just as they were about to close a voice called out.

"Hold the doors please!" Jane instantly stuck her arm between the doors and they opened back up. We then saw Jaehee hurrying towards us. "Jane thank you so much." She then noticed my presence "Oh MC it's good to see you too. I've actually been wanting to talk to you since you woke up."

"I know. V told me that you had something to tell me. I was going to see if we could meet at lunch but I overslept and then Jane made me go shopping." I noticed she was carrying a lot of papers and struggling with them. "Here let me help you." I said, taking some folders before she could protest. Jane also took some and Jaehee thanked us profusely.

"So let me guess. All of these are papers that Jumin forgot to sign before he left his office?" Jane said after eyeing each stack. Jaehee nodded and suddenly seemed very tired.

"You'd be correct. He said something about being inspired and needed to go gather art supplies. I have no idea what that was about." I suddenly felt bad and blushed. The elevator opened on the penthouse floor and the three of us walked in.

"That's my fault Jaehee. Jumin saw me drawing this morning and asked me if I could teach him about art. I didn't know he'd neglect his work because of it. I'm sorry." She sighed but smiled at me as we set the papers down on the coffee table.

"I see. Well it's hardly your fault MC. Mr. Han is easily distracted when he has a project on his mind. I'm just grateful it's not any cat related business." Jane and Jaehee laughed and I just smiled. I noticed that it was now seven and I really had to start getting ready.

"Well I'll be sure to make sure his art ventures don't give you more work. Now I'm going to go get ready. I'll be right back."

"I should also leave since Mr. Han isn't here."

"No Jaehee stay. You can help get MC ready and tell her your news." I had once again forgotten that Jaehee needed to talk to me.

"That's a good idea. I mean I don't know what Jane means by help but now is a great time for us to talk." I smiled at her and Jane seemed beyond excited. Seeing her like this made it hard to picture her working for an agency but that was probably made her so good.

"Alright if you're ok with that MC." I nodded at her and she smiled. Then the three of us headed towards the bedroom. I hung my dress up on the wall and went to the bathroom to start on my hair. I pulled it out of the bun and noticed that it already had some lose curls in it. I started up my curling iron and went to check on Jaehee and Jane. They were both sitting on my bed looking at their phones.

"So what's this big news that you need to tell me Jaehee?" She looked between Jane and I almost like she was nervous.

"Well you see when you were in the hospital I learned your last name and it sounded familiar. Well I did some digging and found out that our late parents were siblings." I began to realize what she was saying and my heart started to pound.

"So then that would make us,"

"Cousins." She finished with a smile. The smile on my face matched and I began to cry.

"Jaehee that's amazing!" I said wiping my eyes. "I was told that I didn't have any living family. How did they miss you?"

"I'm honestly not sure. It could because of the fact that I took my moms last name after she died. Or maybe our parents had a falling out and your mom never told anyone about them."

"That could be. I had always assumed my mom was an only child because she never talked about any siblings. I wonder what caused such a wall between them." I walked to the bathroom and picked up the curling iron. I stood in the doorway of the bathroom so that I could still talk to the girls.

"I have no idea. My father mentioned having a sister once but told me she lived abroad. I never asked about it after that." She seemed to ponder for a minute. "MC, if I may ask, when did your mom die?" I did my best not to look sad but I did a pretty poor job. "I'm sorry if the question upset you." I finished another curl and let it cool.

"It's alright. I was eleven when she died and I'm about to turn twenty six, so it was about fifteen years ago. Do you think that has something to do with it?"

"Possibly. She died before mine so maybe that's why my father never talked about her. My parents didn't die until I was almost in college. Knowing that though still doesn't answer the question as to why the authorities didn't send you to us." I shrugged and put the curling iron back in the bathroom. I brought my makeup bag out and sat on the floor across from the bed.

"Oh please let me do your make up MC! I've always wanted to do it to someone else." I was surprised by her request but held the brush out to her and she jumped off the bed.

"Anyway, Jaehee, I have a lot of records that my attorney gave me once I turned eighteen. I even have her will, maybe there will be something in there." I closed my eyes as Jane rubbed the brush across them.

"Possibly. I'm not sure when I'll be free to go over there but I'll put in the request to Mr. Han." I couldn't see her but her voice sounded defeated already.

"Well if he denies it then I'll talk to him. It won't kill him to give you a day off to learn about our family." I was finally able to open up my eyes and she was smiling.

"Thank you MC. I really am going to get going though. It's almost eight and I can hear a Zen DVD calling my name." Jane stood up and and pulled me off the floor.

"Yeah my work here is done so I should head out. Have fun MC but not too much. You've got training tomorrow." She winked and me and then they both left. I took the dress off of the hanger and put it on. My heart began to beat and I had to talk myself down. This was my first real date with V and I was really nervous. I tried telling myself that dinner at my house counted but this was different. I was dressed nice and V had been planning this for two days. There was excitement and nervousness swimming inside of me as I slipped on my shoes. They were black with straps that twisted up to my ankles, and a little higher than what I was used to but I managed. Now I just needed to find a light sweater or something, but failed to find one in the suitcase. Then I heard a knock at the door and practically jumped.

"MC, are you in there?" It was V's voice and my heart began to flutter. I went over to the door and slowly opened it. When it was open I stood in front of V and saw that he was wear a long sleeved black dress shirt, and a grey jacket, with tan pants, and he had the first few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. "Wow MC." My cheeks blushed and I fidgeted with my hands.

"Do I look ok?" I asked trying not to sound nervous. He simply bent down and kissed my hand.

"You look stunning. I don't know how I ended up with such a beautiful date." I blushed as he placed my hand on his arm. "Shall we?" He asked and I nodded. We then set off for our date.

#mystic messenger #my writiting #fan fiction #20sob #jihyun kim #v x mc #rfa #date night

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