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clarklovescarole · 2 years ago

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February 1937: Clark Gets Over the Flu

Feb. 1, 1937 – The Pittsburgh Press

Claudette Colbert and Carole Lombard get $150,000 a picture; Clark Gable makes $5,000 a week; in 1936 the average extra made $161.36 for the whole year, according to figures from the Central Casting Bureau.

Feb. 1, 1937 – The Los Angeles Times

Film fans who plan to attend the Shrine flood relief benefit Wednesday night in the Shrine Auditorium were assured last night that they will see Clark Gable and that Carole Lombard will be with him. Miss Lombard last night signified her intention to accompany Gable to the benefit.

Feb. 1, 1937 – Fort Worth Star Telegram

While screen players rallied Monday to the support of a food relief benefit show, Carole Lombard added a romantic touch to the scene by disclosing she would be accompanied by Clark Gable, her favorite escort.

Feb. 1, 1937 – The Pittsburgh Press

Clark Gable tells Carole Lombard that he would have preferred, above all else, to have been a professional boxer…

Feb. 2, 1937 – The San Francisco Examiner

Clark Gable, celebrating his birthday today, made his first appearance at the studio after 10 days’ illness. Carole Lombard’s little birthday gesture, an old poem torn out of one of her high school books and wrapped in cellophane.

Feb. 4, 1937 – Morning Free Press

Paramount’s “Spawn of the North,” Alaskan salmon canning epic, has been hoisted down from the shelf it was filed on last spring when Carole Lombard refused an Alaskan location trip, and turned over to Lucien Hubbard, newly signed producer, for filming this spring. Lombard bowed out an the ground her physician warned the trip might injure her health. Other opinion was that Alaska was too far away from Clark Gable.

Feb. 6, 1937 – The Gaffney Ledger

When boy friend Clark Gable came down with the flu, Carole Lombard had an order given to the florist to send him flowers every day. The florist was the same where Gable had been buying Carole’s flowers and, as a result of a misunderstanding, Carole has been receiving her own flowers every day. Gable got none.

Feb. 7, 1937 – The Los Angeles Times

The Joel Mcreas-Frances Dee, Joel and the boys – own a station wagon they use for rushing back and forth to the McCrea ranch at Calabasas. As a matter of fact, station wagons are the rage among members of huntin’ set. Clark Gable and Robert Taylor both consider them as the most practical vehicles for storing hunting equipment on long trips. Gable was so proud of his new toy that he dashed over to show it off to friend Carole Lombard and the two gleeful children rode around in the pouring rain all one blissful evening.

Feb. 7, 1937: Flood Relief Benefit

Feb. 7, 1937: NY Daily News

At Flood Relief Benefit

HERE’S HOW Clark Gable, Adonis of the screen, looked when he donned Shrine fez at flood relief benefit in Los Angeles… and girls… pipe those sideburns. With him are Lawrence Cobb, Shrine Potentate, and Carole Lombard.

Feb. 7, 1937 – NY Daily News

Feb. 9, 1937 – The Charlotte Observer

Gable In Sideburns

Still Together – Those two “inseperables” of the flim colony, Carole Lombard and Clark Gable, are snapped together at a recent Hollywood function. Note the sideburns on Clark, a makeup for his latest role.

Feb. 8, 1937: Hopeful co-stars

Interviewers of Carole Lombard are cautioned in advance that they must not mention or ask about Clark Gable. Interviewers of Gable are expected to not mention Miss Lombard.

Yet Gable isn’t in the least reticent about telling friends that he hopes to make a picture with Miss Lombard. Not only wants to, but expects to.

Her contract calls for two pictures a year with Paramount at $150,000 each, and one production away from that studio. Considering their off-stage romance there’d be no measuring the publicity value of such a teaming.

Feb. 8, 1937 – Star Gazette

Feb. 11, 1937 – The Cushing Daily Citizen

Carole Lombard’s birthday present to Clark Gable was an automobile trailer to carry his saddle horse. Being practical, Carole sent the blueprints first for Clark to okay. The trailer will be constructed along deluxe lines and will hook onto the back of the star’s new station wagon.

Feb. 12, 1937 – Fremont Tribune

Carole Lombard’s studio would not allow her to visit Clark Gable in the hospital. So she telephoned three times a day, sent red roses and got regular bulletins on his temperature.

Feb. 13, 1937 – Shamokin News Dispatch

Feb. 13, 1937 – Capital Journal

Perhaps the most talked about twosome on any racing course at present, though, are the Clark Gable and Carole Lombard entries, who have become favorites in many quarters to show well at the Preakness and other big-time meets. But before they can get their names on the racing forms, Gable has to remove a complication in the way of Rhea Gable, to whom he is teamed at present. Otherwise, the track judges will have to abide by the rules and keep him pastured for the time being.

Whether the Gable-Lombard string is eligible, though, doesn’t keep the followers from talking about them and estimating how they will show on the running strips, if they ever get there. Gable squires Lombard to a few social affairs but mostly stays in the background and carries on his romance as quietly as the crowds will permit him.

Feb. 15, 1937 – The Windsor Star

Even though they get on one another’s nerves at times when the practical joking gets a little too heavy, Clark Gable and Carole Lombard are very good friends. Just to prove it Carole gave the famous he-actor a trailer for his last birthday present. The trailer, let it be understood, will house his saddle horse when he decides to “get away from it all” and leave Hollywood for the open country.

But, being practical as well as friendly, Carole decided that Clark had better know exactly what he was getting, in case there were any changes to be made. So, before she sent the gift, she mailed him the blue prints of the horse house and Clark approved of them. The trailer, which will be on the deluxe style, will hitch on to the back of Clark’s new station wagon that he bought recently.

Feb. 20, 1937 – The Philadelphia Inquirer

Snapshots of Hollywood: Carole Lombard, of all people, falling for surrealist art and bidding for “Agitated Landscape.” Wonder if she’s going to give it to Clark Gable as a gag?

Feb. 23, 1937 – The Minneapolis Star

If Clark Gable ever can make up his mind to sell his Ford, the one Carole Lombard gave him for a Valentine, Los Angeles auto row will see the quickest resale in its history. One prospective buyer, a Mr. Brown, of Richmond, Va., is haunting the studios, trying to tie up the deal. When the car was put up for sale a month ago, he got as far as talking to Gable, but Clark found out he intended to exhibit the car throughout the country, and backed out.

Ten other people, four of them high school youths, put in a bid at the same time. Now the insistent Mr. Brown is trying to enlist Carole’s aid in his cause – for Clark won’t sell unless she agrees.

Feb. 24, 1937 – The Gazette

If Samuel Goldwyn can find a sparkling comedy for Carole Lombard, she will make a picture for him. He is only one of the producers trying to nab La Lombard between Paramount jobs. Metro-Goldwn-Mayer also started negotiations for “Saratoga,” but her price of $150,000 per picture was considered prohibitive and so the original plan will be carried out with Clark Gable and Joan Crawford in the starring roles.

Feb. 28, 1937 – The Index Journal

Clark Gable and Carol Lombard get more attention from spectators at the tennis matches than Fred Perry and Ellsworth Vines.

#clark gable #carole lombard #1937 #old hollywood

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holly-the-trash-writer · 2 years ago

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Halloweentown🎃

Eleventh Doctor x Fem!Reader

Written for an annonymous ask. I hope you enjoy it!!!

Synopsis: It's Halloween and the Doctor has the best place in mind to take Y/n. A planet called Halloweentown of course!

Word Count: 1,832

“Halloween. All Hallows’ Eve.” The Doctor lists as he flips switches on the Tardis console, “Or as the Celts call it Samhain.”

Y/n grinned, “Yes, I’m familiar with the concept.”

“Ah.” The Doctor grinned and pointed both fingers at her, “But are you familiar with the planet.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raised, “The... planet?”

“Yes. The planet. Halloweentown.” The Doctor giggles as he spins around the console to put in the co-ordinates.

“There’s a planet called Halloweentown?”

The Doctor walked up into her face, “Are you going to repeat everything I say?”

“No. Sorry.” Y/n blushes.

He fixes his bowtie and smirks, “Actually. I quite enjoy it.” He winks before spinning and yanking on a lever that makes the Tardis shake.

Y/n yelps as she stumbles and grabs onto the railing, “A little warning would have been nice!” she screams.

The Doctor just laughs hysterically as they travel through space until the Tardis dings and comes to a sharp stop, causing the two to crash to the ground in a fit of giggles.

The Doctor stands and shakes his head, “Come on, no time to waste lying around on the floor.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “No!”

The Doctor span back to her, “No?”

“We can’t go without a costume!”

The Doctor shook his head, “Oh, alright. Go on then.” he gestures towards the wardrobe.

Y/n grinned and sprinted down the stairs to go to the wardrobe, “You better have one on too when I get back!”

The Doctor checked his watch and sighed, “Come on you! Halloween will be over by the time we get there.”

“I thought it was a planet?!” She yelled back.

“Yes! That’s entirely my-!” His jaw drops as she walks up the stairs, “Point.”

She walked up in the stairs in one of his button up shirts, tucked into a short black flowy skirt, black tights and black heeled boots, she had on a tweed jacket and a red bow tie. All topped off, quite literally, with a fez on her head.

She took one look at him and laughed. They were both in the same outfit. The Doctor had even put a fez on his own head. “So, what do you think?” she twirled in a circle.

The Doctor stuttered as both of his hearts banged in his chest.

Y/n grinned and approached him, gently pushing his jaw back up, “Shall we?”

He grinned and pulled open the Tardis door, gesturing her to exit first.

Her feet landed on a stone path as she looked up and gasped.

Everything you ever thought Halloween should look like was right in front of her.

A dark cobblestone path stretched out in front of her, forests at sides of the path that were contained by black wrought iron fences. The leaves were bright orange as they clung to branches and dusted the ground. Jack-O-Lanterns lit the path up to what seemed to be the centre of a town.

The Doctor shut the door and walked up beside her, a smug grin on his face as he extended his arm.

She looked up at him in amazement before she looped her arm through his and their boots clicked up the stone path.

“Is it night-time?” Y/n asked as she looked up at the sky.

“No, it’s dusk. The planet only fluctuates between dusk, night and dawn.” The Doctor explains.

Y/n nods, “How do they tell the difference between dusk and dawn?”

The Doctor stops dead and looks up, “I don’t know...” he looks at the sky in wonder before a smile broke across his face. “That’s new. I love not knowing something.”

As they got closer to the middle of the town they heard a crowd, cheering and music. At the end of the path stood two old iron lamp posts but she couldn’t see anyone around.

“Doctor? I can hear people.”

“Wait for it.” The Doctor whispered before they stepped between the lamps.

She shivered as they stepped through some kind of force field and the town came to life.

There were stalls everywhere! Like some huge festival. People, children and aliens. Dressed up as all sorts and some weren’t even costumes.

She span around trying to take it all in. All the different beings at stalls, selling potions, lanterns, voodoo dolls, crystal balls. You name it, it’s here.

There was a large wooden sign post with different activities all on different arrows.

Pumpkin Carving.

Witch Racing.

Skeleton Dancing.

Apple Bobbing.

“Where- where- where do we start?” Y/n asked in shock.

“Boo!”

The pair jumped, “Arghhh!!!” They screamed before turning to face a short man in a suit with a top hat and cane appeared behind them.

“Welcome back Doctor!” The man exclaimed, “I hope this is a social visit this time?” The man grinned politely but still look worried.

“Don’t worry, Frankie. I am here to be sociable and socialise... with... people.”

Y/n giggled as the Doctor rambled. “We’re on a date.” she explained.

Frankie’s eyes widened before he bowed before Y/n, “Oh! My!” he glanced between the two and the Doctor smiled while Y/n looked at him a little nervously, “Welcome, madam!”

“Hello.” She waved politely.

“I’m so thrilled you chose my planet for such an occasion.” he threw his hands out, “This is Halloweentown! Where everyone’s entitled to at least one good scare and all the sweets you could ask for.” he reached into his pocket and lifted out a large money pouch from his pocket, “Here you are, Doctor.” He threw the pouch at the Time Lord before prancing away again. “Enjoy!”

Y/n chuckled, “That was weird. You been here before then?”

“Frankie had a little problem with the pumpkins a little while ago.”

“Pumpkins?”

“Long story darling and we have an entire festival to see.” The Doctor threw the pouch in the air and caught it, “So, where to first?”

Y/n grinned as she munched on her toffee apple, cheering in the stands as they watched the witches broom race. One of the biggest events in Halloweentown.

Turning to her left she saw that the Doctor wasn’t watching the race. Instead, he had his glasses on and was inspecting his own apple.

“Oh, Doctor just bite into it.”

The Doctor sniffed it one more time before he bit into the side of the apple.

She smiled as she watched his eyes widen in surprise, lifting the stick up to his eyes so he could inspect the apple once more. “Now that is magnificent.” he giggled as he finished his bite and licked the toffee on the outside.

Y/n giggled as she reached across and took the Doctor’s unoccupied hand in her own, keeping her eyes on the race at all times. She felt his fingers stiffen slightly before they curled around her own and squeezed.

Neither of them mentioning it as they raised their joint hands to cheer as Bathilda won the race, just as he said she would.

“Y/n! Look, look, look!” The Doctor giggled as he looked into a large barrel of water.

Y/n sighed, “What is it, Doctor?”

He waved his hands towards her, “Quickly!”

She shook her head and made her way over to where he was standing hunched over the barrel, “What is it?”

The Doctor grinned and raised his hand to the back of her head and forcefully dunked her head into the barrel. He let go immediately and Y/n gasped as she sprayed water from her face and wiped her eyes. “Doctor! What was that for?!”

“Oh, that was rubbish!” The Doctor shook his head as he looked into the barrel.

“You got my fez wet! Wha-” Y/n was so shocked until she looked down into the barrel and saw a load of apples floating on the surface. “Oh.”

“I really thought the element of surprise would boost your chances.” The Doctor shook his head as if he couldn’t understand why you failed. He leaned down further to inspect the apples.

Y/n bit her lip, “The element of surprise?” she asked before slapping the fez off his head and pushing the Doctor’s head into the water.

His hands flailed in the air before he burst back out of the water and turned to her. An apple firmly in his teeth.

He raised both arms in the air in celebration before pointing to the apple and taking it out of his mouth, “I did it! See, element of surprise. Told you.” He gestured excitedly to the vendor and all the little objects behind him, “Pick your prize, darling.”

Y/n craned her neck to look over at the Doctor’s pumpkin and chuckled before returning to her own pumpkin, making sure to keep it faced away from the Doctor.

“What?” he asked self-consciously as he looked at his own design, “What’s wrong with it?”

Y/n shrugged as if she didn’t know what he was talking about, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh really? Well, we’ll just see what the Tardis has to say about them!” The Doctor huffed before continuing to carve with his tongue sticking out in concentration.

“You’re on!”

“Trust me.”

Y/n stood shaking slightly, “I do trust you. It’s that I don’t trust.” she pointed to the broom that was in between the Doctor’s legs, “What if I fall?”

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows, “Now, when have I ever let you fall?”

She grinned before taking his outstretched hand and sat in front of him on the broom. His arms circled around her protectively, making sure her back was pressed to his front before he whispered in her ear, “Hold on tight.”

He placed his hands over hers on the stick before making it start to lift of the ground.

“Oh!” Y/n gasped as the ground vanished from under her feet.

“It’s alright. I’m right here.”

Her heart thundered against her chest but she had total faith in the Doctor as he slowly raised them into the air.

When he didn’t hear anything for a minute he frowned, “Have you got your eyes closed?!” he whisper-yelled at her.

“...No...”

She felt his chest move as he chuckled at her back, “Open your eyes, darling.”

Y/n unclenched her eyes and blinked to try and adjust.

She’s so glad that she did.

The moon was high in the sky, a yellow moon that was carved like a jack-o-lantern. She could see a cemetery in the distance, each grave lit up by candles and lanterns. Looking straight down she saw the market, she saw every stall, every being there who was enjoying the festivities. Her eyes followed the path they came down, seeing the dark shape of the Tardis and two lit lanterns outside, right where they left them.

“Doctor...”

“Told you so.”

She could see the smirk on his face without even having to turn around.

His grip never faulted from her hands as he slowly made the broom move forward, “Ready?”

With a new found courage she nodded.

He kissed her cheek and held her close, “Geronimo!”

#11th doctor #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x y/n #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who #eleventh doctor #fanfiction #doctor who x y/n

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fezrus · 3 years ago

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Someone to blame (part one)

Summary : after Rue almost died from her overdose, you’re looking for someone to blame & end up fighting real bad with Fezco. You meet again a few weeks later, and well, the reunion is... interesting.

Warnings : mentions of alcohol, drugs, lots of bad words, bit of fighting, bit of teasing 😇, reader being a bitch, fezco (my boy deserves a warning)

Pairing : FezxFem!Reader

Word count : 3k

Side Note : english is not my first language, feel free to tell me if you find mistakes or just weird sentences lol

You had been friends with Rue for years, at this point you were practically siblings. And this implied the good sides and the bad ones. You shared the same kind of humor – a great mix of sarcasm and self-depreciation – and knew you could trust each other with your lives. But there were also more complicated moments, Rue overdosing on pills being the latest. Speaking of drugs, she actually introduced you to Fez a few months before it happened.

The guy wasn't the most talkative or expressive, but he had always been courteous in his own way. You had wondered many times how someone so gentle and calm in appearance could lead such a life, punctuated by violence and despair.

You were never that close but talked a bit and had a laugh at every party you both went to, and you hung out a few times with Rue. He was chill, and you got along pretty well, even found him cute at times. That is, until you saw your dearest friend laying unconscious in a hospital bed because of the shit he sold her.

Back then, you really thought she was going to die. Seeing her in that bed had awakened a rage and a disgust in you that you had not thought you'd ever be able to feel before that day. You showed up at Fezco's place the next morning and things went pretty far. You basically called him a murderer, screaming and calling him names, which led him to shout back and things were said and never forgotten on both sides.

He was an irresponsible and disgusting brainless criminal, you were a spoiled and fucking ignorant kid who knew nothing about life. From this day on, you hadn't spoken a word to each other, despite crossing paths a few times during the last few weeks.

Had you known he’d be there tonight, you probably wouldn’t have come.

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It looked like a scene from a movie, the place was full of people, the music was too loud and the lights were blinding. There were people smoking on the roof, others making out on the hoods of cars, and you chose not to see what was going on in the pool. Jules, with whom you had come, was jumping enthusiastically next to you. “This is gonna be so fun,” she smiled, her big bright eyes looking right at you as you were entering the house. “Come on you need a drink! And then we'll break the dancefloor.”

“Alright,” you laughed a bit, her excitement being contagious, “I’ll get us some drinks, you go and try to find Rue.” The both of them had a relationship that was quite difficult to qualify, even if they hadn’t known each other for a very long time. Rue's obsession with Jules made you a little suspicious at first, you were maybe a little afraid that she would replace you for a moment, but you soon realized that their relationship had nothing to do with yours. Even though deep down you knew that this co-dependency between your two friends was not healthy, you couldn't help but be happy for them, and Rue was doing better.

You manage to make your way to the kitchen, where you quickly find a bottle that suits you on the table. You were about to pour yourself a drink when a small brown-haired sparkly tornado hit you head-on. She smelled a little like alcohol and could barely stand up, smiling from ear to ear as she wrapped her arms around you.

“What the hell Maddy ?” You ask, managing to find your balance back.

“I’m so happy you’re here bitch,” she simply answers, making you laugh. “I need your help with something,” she adds while giving you the puppy-eyes look.

Between a few incomprehensible words due to the alcohol in her body, you understand that she’s asking you to find her something to smoke, a favor she had done you at the previous party. You groan as you fill the glass you grabbed, taking a shot to give you the strength to get to work. You clearly have other things to do but you know Maddy well, and if you don't do it back for her as you promised you would, you know she won't stop complaining and she won't leave you alone. “Fine just wait here until I get back, and try not to drink more, right ?” And with that, you go in search of the holy grail, or in this case, the holy weed.

Now there are multiple ways you can find what you're looking for, you could just use your charms and get if from some random dude, but you don't feel like flirting tonight. And the easiest way to buy drugs is standing a few feet from you, outside by the bay window. “Fuck me.” You huff, cursing yourself for only taking one shot. Your heels click on the ground as you approach until you plant yourself in front of the redhead, whose fresh cut displays his scar even more.

He stares at you with suspicion, and then looks quickly around him as to make sure it is really him you want to speak to.

“What's up Y/N ?” he simply questions, his blunt still between his lips.

His usual nonchalance surprises you nonetheless, given your last somewhat hectic exchange. However, you decide to get it over with as quickly as possible and get straight to the point.

"I need some weed," you sigh, knowing full well that this request would make you lose the credibility you had when you yelled at him about the drugs, even if it is 'just' weed in that case. He looks a bit surprised, one eyebrow raised. "It’s for Maddy,” you add.

“You sure? I ain't want you to come and knock on my door tomorrow calling me names cause I gave you the stuff you asked for.” His blue eyes are locked in yours, and you don't know if he's teasing you or if he really wants to know if you're sure of yourself.

You cross your arms over your chest, already annoyed and eager to find your friends, drink and forget this conversation and the previous one. “Don't worry about that,” you respond, “I don't want to have anything to do with you, so please just stick to doing your job right now, right?”

“Am not here to make friends either, now just pay for the damn thing or imma find someone else to buy it.” He doesn't want to be around you either, that's for sure, but he’s still pretty polite as usual. You know you kinda hurt him, but he did too, plus you're too annoyed by his attitude right now to feel bad. His words just have a way of bringing out that side of you that tends to piss people off pretty well : the sarcastic little shit.

“Don't act all indifferent now Fez, we both know you'd love to be my friend.” You provoke him, a fake smile on your face and you tilt your head, placing your hand on his bicep, while his arms are still crossed.

He can't help but sigh, moving away from the wall he was leaning against and leaning toward you instead. You stand straight, defying him. “Look, imma be honest with you. Being a bitter depressive kid giving lessons on shit you know nothing about don't sound like a real interesting occupation to me y'know?”

“Yeah cause selling drugs to those depressive kids is such a respectable one.” You immediately spit back, making him look down for a second. Touché.

“I really don't wanna fuck with you right now Y/N." You must have come a little closer with every shot fired because now you can feel his annoyed and warm breath on your face, your eyes still locked. He takes the last hit of his joint before throwing it to the ground, stepping back as if to prevent the situation from going any further. He grabs a little bag from his back pocket, and holds hit between his fingers. “Just pay for the damn thing and go back to your shit, I'll go back to mine.”

His tone is more tired than threatening, but it still makes you shiver. Fez wasn't usually one to get mad, to threaten with his hands, he always spoke slowly in a way that still let you know he wasn't messing around.The tension is palpable, your fists and his jaw clenched to the point where it could have snapped. Your contempt disguised as sarcasm did not please him, obviously, but the more he responded to it, the more he made you want to infuriate him for real.

You hand him the money before taking the bag from his hands. "Alright, I wouldn't want to stop you from handing out overdoses for a few bills," you conclude before starting to leave.

Rubbing his temples, he finally speaks again, loud enough so that you can hear him behind you.

“Damn Y/N, why d’you have to be like this ? Why you giving me all the blame and shit ?” You stop walking, your back still facing him. “Am not sayin what she did was completely her fault, I know I’m part of this too. I felt like shit, like real bad, you know she’s family. But now you been treatin me like I did it on purpose when you know damn well I didn't.”

You don't know if it's the booze starting to kick in or just the emotions you bottled up these past few weeks, but at this moment you feel particularly exhausted by the situation. Yes, you resent him for spending his time distributing drugs to people you love. You did blame Rue for a while too, you screamed, cried, and you also blamed yourself - you still do - for not having seen how bad she was doing. But Fez, the lovely guy you got to know a little, who said he was like her brother, and who gave her the drug that landed her in the hospital? He was right, you knew deep down it wasn’t really his fault, but you couldn't help but be overly mad at him.

“You can act all nice as much as you want Fez.” You shrug, turning around to face him. "But you can't do what you do and pretend you care about those people.”

You see him nod silently. Seconds pass before he finally says something back.

"Sounds like you're just tryin to find someone to punish now." He's staring at you, his hands in his pockets "It's alright, make me the bad guy. But don't say I don't fucking care about her ever again, right?"

As you process what he's saying, you can only realise he's stating facts. You're not angry at him for giving the damn pills to your friend, you're looking for a culprit and he's easy to blame. But it's just something about him, about the way he responds to the shots you fire at him, it's physical, you can't help but keep fighting and fighting and wanting for more. Are you actually being a dramatic judgemental little bitch? Absolutely. Will you ever admit that he's kinda right and you know it, and that he's hot as hell when you piss him off like that ? Absolutely not. Is it a good enough reason to keep acting that way? Certainly.

“Yes sir.” You roll your eyes before turning on your heels, leaving the redhead and heading for the kitchen.

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I's three in the morning and you're a complete mess. After giving Maddy her weed, you've done nothing but drink, dance, and drink again. You don’t even know how many shots you've had, but your lack of balance indicates that the amount must be important.

Your body moves to the rhythm of the music, your hips undulating in a sensual choreography. Masculine hands move around your waist, which you quickly brush away to join Cassie dancing on the table. Putting on a show is not exactly an habit of yours, but at the moment, you just feel like having a good time and not caring about nothing else.The little blonde moves against you, laughing and flipping her hair as the crowd around you whistles and admires the show you’re offering. Among the people, in the corner of the room, you notice a familiar figure already watching you. He's still smoking, shaking his head in amusement or in disapproval -you’re not sure-, to which you respond with a middle finger and a provocative wink.

When the song comes to an end, you get off the table to some applause and head to the nearest exit to the garden, feeling the need for fresh air. Your steps are uncertain but you manage to get outside, sitting on a deckchair by the pool.

“It doesn’t really suit you, y’know,” you hear Fezco say as he sits on the other side of the chair, a small smirk on his face. He looks a little high, more relaxed.

“What ?” You frown, turning to sit directly across from him.

“The whole ‘look I smoke weed and I’m wild’ kinda shit.” He shrugs, giving you a side look.

“I never asked you to look,” you argue, alcohol probably making you a little more touchy than usual.

His body is still not facing you, but he turns his head so his eyes meet yours. “You’re kinda hard to miss when you’re behavin’ like that,” he remarks, his gaze now on the little dress Jules had chosen for you. “Was a very pleasant sight, I gotta admit.”

You feel your cheeks starting to burn and quickly look away, rolling your eyes. The effect this guy had on you with just a few words, damnit. He’s a dick, you try to convince yourself, don’t smile like an idiot. You want to come up with something witty or sarcastic to say but really you’re just dumbfounded. And he likes it. “Thanks, I guess.” You whisper without thinking too much, still a bit confused. It's been rare for you to be quiet and likeable since the latest events, so he takes the opportunity to speak again, his voice strangely pleasant.

“Why you always acting stupid like earlier? When deep down you're really just cute and shit,” he sighs, his blue eyes on you as you’re looking down to avoid them. “It's like you enjoy being a fucking brat to me, pissing me off. You like that, don't ya?”

You look up to meet his gaze, intense and curious. Somehow, hearing him call you a brat and talk to you that way feels really good. Is this motherfucker really turning you on and calling you out at the same time without even trying? You don’t know if he’s intentionnaly playing with you right now, but he seems to enjoy the effect he has on you, as you struggle to hide it. You quickly get up to try and regain some composure, there's no way you're going to let him have that power, all of this wouldn't even happen if it weren't for all the drinks you've had.

“You wish, loverboy.” You retort, a playful smile on your lips. “I'm gonna start thinking you fancy me now Fez, thought I was a spoiled ignorant idiot,” you quote.

You hear him laugh a little, and he stands up too to stand right in front of you. “You are.” He grins, getting closer. “You're fucking infuriating,” he adds, his body so close to yours now, “exasperating,” he whispers in your ear, without ever touching you. You close your eyes shut and feel the shivers sliding down your spine, a sigh of contentment slipping from your parted lips while his mouth brushes the skin of your neck. “naughty, even” he finally adds as you feel his wet and rough lips so close to your jaw. You’re a mess, the heat on your cheeks is nothing compared to what you’re feeling down your stomach, between your thighs. Not so innocent and nice now is he ? You take a deep breath and manage to raise your hand, placing your finger under his chin, lifting it up a little so he looks you straight in the eye, your noses almost touching. You need to end this right now, before it goes too far, before you can’t resist the urge to angry fuck the shit out of him here and now. He’s a dick, you can’t let him win. You have to be the one in control.

“You're not fucking me tonight Fez.” You breathe, your tongue clicking in your mouth. ”I ain't got five minutes to waste for you.”

You turn around to leave but you haven’t even taken the first step when he grabs your arm, gently but firmly, and you feel his body pressing against your back.

“You can insult me all you want but don’t ya underestimate me,” he whispers in your ear, his warm breath crashing against the skin of your neck. "If I were to fuck you, I'd do it properly." The words his hoarse voice whispers make you gasp, you suddenly feel completely naked, at his mercy. You can feel the warmth more and more down your stomach, as his hand brushes your arm, then your shoulder, before moving down to your hip, his fingertips playing with the fabric of your dress with such a slight touch that you don’t know if it’s even real. “I’d take my time, give you what you deserve.”

He doesn't give you the time to process what he just said and steps back, then walks past you to head inside, a winning smile on his lips.

“You enjoy the rest of the night Y/N.”

And before you know it, he’s left you standing here, flustered and desperate for more.

What the fuck just happened?

#to be continued #fez x reader #fez x you #fezco x you #fezco x reader #fezco fanfic #fezco euphoria #fez #euphoria #euphoria fic #fezco imagines #fezco imagine #fez imagine #fez imagines #angus cloud

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einsteinsugly · 2 years ago

Text

Steven Hyde: A Character Analysis, During and Beyond The Show

Based on @maxgrayarchived's "Are Your Characters Developed Enough?" Originally intended for OCs, but since I further develop the T7S characters beyond the scope of the series in a meaningful way, I'm trying my hand at it.

PS: One question was redundant in Hyde's case, so I omitted it. And another was more of a question for couples, so once again? Omitted it. And I combined a question, because I already answered it in another one.

*****

What does it mean for him to be in love? Someone who gets how he ticks, someone who helps him out when times are tough. Add the punch in the gut, romantic feelings, stability, and security, and he's golden.

What (who) is he attracted to? A 110-pound former cheerleader with pink toenails and a love for ABBA and Mariah Carey. He's only aesthetically attracted to the tough blondes with boobs, and that's it.

How's his family life? Better than ever. He hasn't seen Bud and Edna in a long time, but that's fine by him. He's got the Formans, the Barnetts, Jackie, and the kids. That's all he needs.

How's his social life? Solid. He's got Forman and Donna, Kelso and Brooke, and Fez and Rhonda, of course. He's got Buddy and his partner Vic, Leo and his son Paul, and Jackie's former co-host Manny and Sonia back in Milwaukee. Plus, Pastor Dan's brother Sam Easton and the manager of the Hyde Park Grooves, Desi Blake. And Colette's pretty cool, too.

What's his sexual and romantic history? He was with a plethora of girls before Jackie, from Chrissy to Kat, but none of them really mattered that much. Just sexual blips on the radar, until Jackie.

Jackie's his fuckin' everything, and he was more than willing to protect her against Kelso. Fine, he could be a territorial dirty dog sometimes, and he acted like an ass. He cheated on her with the nurse, brought Raquel to the basement, ran off to fuckin' Vegas and drunkenly married Sam out of pure vengeance. Wishing Sam was Jackie, when in reality? He still had a chance, until he blew it. And he was angry, and took it out on her and everyone else around him. Including himself. He fuckin' deserved this fate, just like Bud and Edna before him.

But the Formans and Donna helped him see the light. Forman and Donna were finally getting their shit together, and his foster parents wanted him to have a better future than his predecessors. So, with true grit and patience, he took the chance to improve his life, and ran with it.

So, as an older man, he looks back at his past self with particular ire sometimes. But the past is in the past, man. He can't change it, but he wishes he could. He earned Jackie's trust back, little by little, and he's never gonna throw that away again. Yeah, Hyde calls Kelso Gaston (from Beauty and the Beast), but that movie recalls a familiar story from the distant past. In the present, he's got his wife, Jackie. The kids, Becca and James. And life is damn good.

What's he skilled in, and what are his hobbies? He's smart, on and off the streets. He picks up anything a book or a situation has to throw at him, in the blink of an eye. He can also pick apart stupid arguments, particularly from dense politicians, with relative ease.

He's good at chess, playing cards, tinkering with cars (Jackie is, too), and he's learned how to play the guitar. He caught on quick, and he's taught the kids, too. Music is life, and his passion, though. It gets him through the good times, the bad times, and everything in between.

How was his school experience? He didn't try, and hung out under the bleachers. He's lucky he graduated, but school isn't really for him. WB made him take a couple of business classes, and that was fuckin' hell.

Is he an extrovert, an introvert, or an ambivert? An ambivert who leans on the introverted side. He finds solace in hanging out by himself or with his wife, listening to music. With Forman and Donna sometimes, too. And with the kids, Becca in particular.

Is he right-brained, left-brained, or balanced? A mix of both, and he channels what he needs to in order to get shit done.

What are his most prevalent strengths and weaknesses?

Strengths: He's a borderline genius, he's relatively patient and adaptable, and he thinks outside of the box.

Weaknesses: He can be vengeful, petty, and stubborn. He doesn't take well to structure, or rules. Not even some of the good ones. He's also emotionally stunted, given his childhood, but his heart's usually in the right place.

What are his goals and dreams?

As a teen: To fuckin' make it.

As an adult: To thrive, with his wife, his kids, and his friends by his side.

What are his fears and insecurities? To end up like Bud and Edna, to have fuckin' nothing to lose. With a massive chip on his shoulder.

What does he believe in? The system sucks, but he can find a way to weave in and out and make it better. Pounding the pavement, and trusting his gut. As a rebel, with a cause.

Who would he die for? His real family, and his friends. And whoever's in danger.

#that 70s show #that 90s show #steven hyde #jackie and hyde #jackie burkhart #red and kitty #eric and donna #kelso and brooke #my essays #eric forman

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yespolkadotkitty · 4 years ago

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So I read Elixir and I love how you write sex pollen and I was wondering if you could do one for our other federal agent, Marcus?

Jump Start

Warnings: smut. A lot of smut. Unbeta’d writing; soft Marcus.

Words: 3,500

Summary: What if Marcus only went to DC for a while? And what if he came back for you?

Marcus: Still game for tonight?

You: Are you kidding? Cho and Lisbon have bigged up that Aladdin’s Cave for months. I’ll be there.

Marcus: You sure this is what you want for your birthday?

You: Yes.

Marcus: Okay then… Bring a pillow because I’ll probably bore you to sleep with all the art stories.

When the elevator doors part to reveal Agent Marcus Pike, you’re standing by the door to the lock-up. A smile lights up his face when he sees you, and your heart bumps hard in your chest. He slides his hands in his pocket, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Marcus.”

He ducks his head, a little shy. You know he isn’t always. You’d seen him in the interview room a few times last year, when your team and his had co-run a case. Watched his eyes go hard, his face stern. He’d slammed a file down on the desk inches from a suspect’s face and the surprisingly rough side to him had made you shiver.

Lisbon had sent you a knowing look and you’d ignored her.

She’d had her chance and she’d blown it, and frankly you didn’t want to know what she and Marcus had shared; how close they’d been.

Marcus had gone to DC after that. A year’s undercover work has helped him heal, you think. Get his head back in the game.

He came back for another co-op case, and thankfully, Lisbon and Jane had been away on honeymoon then.

You and Marcus had worked this one together, sometimes late into the night, sharing take-out and anecdotes from other old cases, and then, you’d started hanging out, a little.

He’s interesting. Funny. Friendly. Panty-melting gorgeous.

Heart-stoppingly gorgeous.

Cho dropped that it was your birthday at last week’s after-work drinks, and then Marcus had texted offering you a tour of the art lock up. You’d been rota’d off the day Cho and Lisbon got to see it, last year.

Patrick Jane hadn’t been allowed in. Marcus had muttered something about sticky fingers when you’d asked him about it.

“You ready?” He ducks his head to buss your cheek and you meet him halfway, breathing him in, minty gum, sandalwood, and the gourmet coffee he hides in his office. He shared it with you once and it’s like him, memorable, decadent, addictive.

“Ready.” You pull away, reluctantly, wanting him, but he’s never given you any overt hints that he sees you as anything more than a colleague.

He and Lisbon are cordial to each other when they meet, but for all you know, he’s still pining over her.

You daren’t ask; you don’t want to know the answer.

Marcus punches in a code to the first gate, then plucks the rings of keys from his pocket and opens the dinner door of the lock-up, a smile playing on his scruffy face. He grew the patchy beard during his time in DC and it really suits him, highlights his beautiful jaw and makes his soulful eyes a deeper brown.

This time on a Saturday, no one else is around.

“A private museum,” you breathe as you see all the paintings, sculptures and other art set carefully in frames or on desks or custom made plinths.

“Yeah, I always feel like Aladdin.” He scoffs at himself. “I say that every time. What a dork.”

You turn and grin at him. “I like it. You’re an art geek. It’s sexy.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Marcus’ brow wings up. “That so?”

“Um, sure.” You duck your head, embarrassed. “So. Tell me some art stories, Special Agent Pike. What’s new here?”

He brightens, soulful chocolate eyes going wide for just a moment. “Well. There’s this equine sculpture. Maker’s mark is Italian but we seized it during a raid for paintings. Wasn’t expecting it.” He snaps on white gloves and offers you a pair, then gently turns over the statue to show you the swirling signature on the bottom. “We’re still not sure where the other two are.”

You trace a gloved finger over the horse’s detailed mane, wrought perfectly in cherrywood. “Other two?

“Sure. This is part of a set. You can tell here-” he points out a divot in the base that you wouldn’t even have noticed, and another on the opposite end. “And here. The two connecting statues are missing - other horses, I’d guess.”

“Wow.”

Marcus sets the horse down and meets your gaze. “You bored yet?”

“Nope! More!”

He chuckles indulgently. “Okay. Why don’t you choose.”

You wander around the various lock-up cages for a while, examining instruments, more statues, even a huge quilt that looks woven with gold.

After a few moments, a painting about your height catches your eye. It’s an orgy, but tastefully done, painted in shades of amber and gold, the bodies fluid, enchanting.

“I’ve never seen such a… soft depiction of a group bang,” you smile.

Marcus’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “That came in last week. Rumour has it, the artist was quite the lothario back in the 1800s. A steady stream of, ah, callers to his penthouse in Florence. The accounts of his sexual prowess are something else.”

“I bet.” You eye the curves of the women in the painting; she looks soft, welcoming, her eyes closed in ethereal bliss. “So, how’d you get this?”

“Allegedly, found in an attic. We went to the house to pick it up. The man who gave it to me - said they just moved in - seemed kinda high.” Marcus’ brow furrows. “Very mellow. Pretty sure he’d been smoking something. He was half-dressed.”

You crouch, examine the painting more closely. “And you didn’t… arrest him?”

Marcus shrugs. “Art’s our deal. I did note the address with a colleague in the DEA, so if it gets flagged again, they’ll investigate.”

Something about the painting keeps you enraptured. You spy a little notch in the frame. “Do you think something’s hidden in here?”

Marcus bends next to you to examine the area you point to. He’s been working today, so he still wears his suit, the red tie the little bit of flash he allows himself on the job. His scent weaves around you, the lick of coffee, the gasp of mint, and something uniquely Marcus.

“It looks like something…. Comes undone?”

You both lean in together, and you edge your gloved finger along the groove in the ornate gold-effect frame.

Marcus does the same from the other end. “Wow,” he breathes. “A hidden compartment?” Then his eyebrows shoot up as part of the frame depresses under his finger, clicking. He grins hugely. “Well, now I really do feel like Aladdin.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve got a little monkey wearing a fez around here, do you?” You tease.

“Maybe a magic carpet. I-”

He’s cut off when a hissing noise pops from the painting. You and Marcus both lean in to try and hear it more closely, and just when you get close, powder sprays from the frame, light gold in colour and smelling faintly musty.

You cough, reeling back, your hands over your face. “Gross.”

Marcus steps back too, wiping a gloved hand over his face and examining the golden-hued powder on the cotton fabric. “What the hell-”

You slowly sit down on the floor. “I feel… sort of dizzy. Hot.”

Marcus crosses to you, crouching in front of you, and if you didn’t feel so discombobulated, you would appreciate the closeness of him, the amber shot through his irises, the slight curl of his cowlick. “I’ll go get help. Maybe some water?”

You’re burning up. A slow dance starts in the pit of your belly, something that you think was always there, maybe, but intensified now Marcus is so close. “Please don’t go.”

His brow furrows in concern. “Of course.” He smoothes a gloved hand over your hair, and then you see it; the change in his eyes, the way they go dark and hot. “I… what the fuck is this stuff? I feel…”

You clutch at his forearms, feeling the play of lean muscle under his suit. “What if…. What if this was the reason that painter was such a, um, lothario?”

Marcus’ gaze has dropped to your mouth and at your words, he blinks. “What? Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “Marcus, I…”

He stands up, backing away. “I can’t be near you. Not when I want… I can’t.”

You reach out to him. “What if you stayed?”

He gazes down at you, longing in those bottomless eyes, and now you can clearly see the outline of the powder’s effect on him. “I can’t. Can’t do that to you.”

A flash of hope pierces the haze descending on you. “You want to? Because of the.. Stuff,” you finish lamely.

An expression of half desire, half pain, sketches itself over Marcus’ features. “I’ve wanted to for a while. That night we worked late.” He’s half-panting now, the fingers of one hand curled around the wall of his side of the lock-up. “Wanted to take you over the desk. I - fuck- can’t do it.”

You make to move. “Marcus-”

“Not like this,” he groans, that voice of sin and sex dropping half an octave, California with a lick of the drawl of Texas. “Not… like this.”

“Don’t go!” You beg. Your insides are burning up for him. If he’d just touch you. Just for a moment.

Marcus is shaking his head, fumbling with the door on this section of the lock-up. You lunge for him but he pulls the door closed, locking you in and him out.

He turns the key, then tosses the ring across the room.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. Not like this. Goes against everything.”

“But I want you,” you say. You crawl over to the fencing separating you. “At least… touch my hand.”

You pull your gloves off, slide your fingers through the holes in the mesh.

Marcus takes his gloves off too, tangles his fingers with your the best he can. He sighs deeply. “I had this whole date thing planned. Dinner at an Italian that reminds me of a place I ate at in my gap year.”

“Marcus,” you whisper. “So you do really like me.”

He groans. “Sweetheart, I haven’t been able to think about anything but you since I got back from DC, and there you were, pretty as a picture, working late with me, sharing Chinese food. Making me laugh.”

You swallow, wanting him so badly it hurts. Every inch of you burns for him.

“I wanted to go slow,” he rasps out. “I know I jump in. Get overexcited. But with you.. I wanted to do it right. Fuck.” With his free hand he, almost unconsciously, palms himself through his suit pants, his eyes rolling back. “What the hell is this drug?”

You hungrily follow the path of his hand with your gaze. “Lothario, remember?”

“I remember.” Marcus groans, pressing the heel of his hand against his erection. He’s sitting awkwardly. “Bastard.”

“Marcus.” You squeeze his hand. “I want this. I want you. It’s lonely up on that white horse.”

He shakes his head, vehement. “It’s….not… not right.”

You press against the caging and just the pressure of the mesh on your breasts makes you moan. “So I can’t touch you, and you won’t touch me, but you also won’t leave me.” You watch him squeeze his eyes shut, look at the tent in his suit pants. “Touch yourself.”

His eyes pop open. “What?”

“If you won’t leave and you won’t… give in to whatever this is, although I want you more than I’ve wanted any man, ever…. Let me see you.”

A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead as he looks at you, big brown eyes considering. He’s weighing every option. Marcus is thoughtful, considered. Considerate. He always thinks two steps ahead, encompasses everyone in plans and strategies.

But he’s blindsided by this, and you can’t say it isn’t sexy as hell to see him unravel this way.

“Please,” you add, holding his gaze.

He squeezes your fingers and the air changes between you, and then he leans heavily against the mesh and you take the opportunity to stroke his hair, a little, and it’s so soft. Feels like silk, and you have to touch more of him, but maybe you’ll get to at least see more, so you will your breathing to calm, just a bit, as he fumbles one-handedly with his belt buckle and then slides the zipper of his suit pants down to reveal plain grey boxers, darkened in the centre by a damp patch, and your throat is so dry.

“Have you…” your heart bumps hard, the rush of seeing new parts of Marcus making you even dizzier. “Ever gotten off in this evidence locker before?”

“Can’t say I have.” Marcus’ gaze stays on your face, earnest. “I can go. I can just go.”

“Please. Please don’t go. Come in.”

“Can’t do that.” He closes his eyes; looks like he is silently praying for the power to resist you. His fingers curl into the parted edge of his suit pants.

“Let me see you?”

He sucks in a deep breath, then exhales shakily. “This is not how I planned to seduce you. Just so you know.”

Your pulse rabbits. “You seduce me every moment, Marcus. With every sweet text. Every time you smile at me. All your art stories. When you say my name. Your voice, oh God.”

Marcus’ hand trembles as he holds your gaze through the wire mesh of the lock-up, and he finally, finally parts the opening of the plain grey boxers and draws himself out, and you just drink him in with your eyes, the shape of him, the swollen tip, his length and girth, the curling hair at his base. It looks as silky as the hair on his head and you hear yourself groan needily.

“Marcus.”

He fists himself, his gaze hot on yours. “Not how I planned this date,” he repeats. “I feel like I’m on fire for you.” He rasps out your name and you watch his hand move, and suddenly it’s too much, the heat between your legs cannot be ignored, and you shove your skirt up and mirror Marcus on the floor.

His head jerks around. “Fuck,” he hisses.

“Never knew you had such a potty mouth,” you half-gasp, half-tease.

“For you, I’ll do whatever you want with my mouth.”

You groan at that as you circle your clit with a finger.

Marcus almost growls “Underwear off, I want to see.” His voice, that voice, is gentle-rough, and you think of the day you watched him in the interview room.

“Whatever you say, Agent Pike.”

“Christ.” He’s jacking off in earnest now, his gaze riveted to you as you pull off your underwear with one hand, letting it fall wherever. Your skirt is rucked up around your hips and the fact it’s Marcus watching you is a huge turn on, but honestly you’re not sure if you could have stopped, for anything.

Your combined pants fill the space. You’ve never been so wet. When you slide two fingers inside yourself the sound is obscene.

“It’s.. a wonder.. He ever got… any painting done,” Marcus grits out.

You laugh. “Now? You wanna talk about art now?”

He huffs. “Art is the reason we’re here. Like this.” Then he sucks in a breath and you look down at him, his balls drawn up tight, his cock wet with his own pre-come.

“Marcus Matthew Pike, I swear to God, if you don’t get in here right now, I will never ever speak to you again.”

He hesitates.

“I swear on Van Gogh’s ear,” you add, your internal muscles fluttering.

Marcus half-yanks up his pants, scrabbles for the key. The seconds feel like hours until he appears again, boxers and pants around his knees, shirt tails hanging, and he opens the mesh door and you yank him in and kiss him and you tumble to the floor together, and Marcus grabs both your wrists and pins them above you with one hand, his face dark and determined, and it makes your heart pound.

“Please,” you grate out. “Marcus. I need you.” You spread your legs and try to hook your feet over his calves, but he shakes his head.

“Not yet. Sweetheart, not yet.” He curls your fingers into the wire of the mesh. “Hold on. Don’t… don’t touch me. I wanna make it good for you, first.”

You hear yourself keen his name as he shucks off his clothes from the waist down, then slides down your body and puts that gorgeous mouth to work. Your favourite thing he did with his mouth until now was talking, but this-

Maybe he’s writing his name, maybe he’s writing a sonnet, but whatever it is, the way he curls his tongue is obscene, and you don’t know if it’s partly the drug, but when he puts two fingers inside you, you come so hard you almost black out. And then lust rears its head again and you grab for him, carding one hand through his hair and cupping him with the other, and he’s slick in your palm and the ridges and heat of his cock feel so good.

“Marcus.” You fist a hand in his hair, pull a little, and he groans and pants, and you take the opportunity to pump him in your fist until he swears under his breath.

"Condom. Oh fuck. Condom."

He hesitates, then drops a soft kiss on your lips - your first, you think, a bit giddy - and you taste yourself, and he licks into your mouth and whispers your name and it's pure, unadulterated bliss.

Then he extricates himself, rummages in his suit pants, and as soon as he has the foil square in his hand you grab for him, pulling him down on top of you.

"After this," you murmur, "you're gonna bend me over the desk." And you roll the condom down his dick and he lets out a long, slow breath and pushes inside you and it's everything.

Everything inside you quiets for a moment that stretches as he starts to move, caging you in with his braced forearms, and you look into his dark chocolate eyes and his heart is on his face, with Marcus it always is. It's your favourite thing about him.

He nibbles at your lips as you make love to eachother, and you hook your legs around his hips to stop him pulling out too much. You want him close, want to feel his skin under your hands. The buttons of his shirt rasp against your dress, and if you were more aware you might think it's ridiculous, him bringing you to orgasm with you both half dressed in the floor of the art squad lock-up, but you can't care. Not when his cock hits you right there, and then you're keening his name and he tumbles over the cliff edge with you, pressing hard in those final thrusts as your muscles milk him.

You curl around him. "Marcus."

He sighs, presses his forehead to yours. "Was that… are you okay?"

You chuckle lazily. "I've never been more okay."

He cuddles you close, nosing at your cheek, murmuring sweet nothings. "Christ, what is this stuff? I could go again."

At his words desire rears its head. "There must be a desk in here somewhere, right?"

And his eyes go hot.

And that's how you find yourself bent over a desk recovered from an abandoned shipping off, the edges intricately gilded. You cling to them as Marcus fucks you hard and fast, just the way he'd fantasised about, and it's so good that you sob his name over and over.

Afterwards he cuddles you so gently, stroking your hair as he whispers praises about how good you felt around him, how next time he's gonna give you a bed covered in rose petals.

You shake your head, kissing him deeply, helping him into his jacket. "You're all I want, Marcus. Any way I can have you."

A flush colours his cheeks as he cups your cheeks. "Dinner? Let me take you out to dinner."

"I'd rather have it in bed. Have you in bed."

His eyes go wide for a second. "The drug.."

"This isn't the drug and you know it." You loop your arms around his neck. "It just jump-started us. Never been so grateful to a horny nineteenth century painter."

Marcus laughs out loud, hugs you, then releases you to hold your hand, tug you towards the elevator. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. You know that, right?"

Happiness unfurls slowly inside you. "I could stand to hear it again."

Tagging the Pedro pals! @soldade @beccaplaying @heatherbel @mourningbirds1 @alldatalost @songsformonkeys @agirllovespasta @nelba @chews-erotically @mrschiltoncat @gamingaquarius @alienprincesspoop @dornish-queen @lackofhonor @agentpike @jaime1110 @thegreenkid @pedropascallion @mrsparknuts @buckstaposition @winters-buck @oloreaa @mstgsmy @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @holographic-carmen @cryptkeepersoul @alwaysbethewest @poenariuniverse @starlight-starwrites @keeper0fthestars @alwaysbethewest @kindablackenedsuperhero @abuttoncalledsmalls @f0rever15elf

And @arch-venus25 did you wanna be tagged in Pedro stuff?

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rexistan · 4 years ago

Text

Lexi is going to be the one to find Rue after she OD’s... (Elaborate Theory)

Before I explain how Lexi is going to end up finding Rue, here are two important points to consider:

1) Why it’s going to be Lexi of all people:

The only people who could find Rue are her mom, Gia, Lexi or Fez.

By process of elimination, it can’t be Rue’s mom cos she was chilling at Jules’ house that night with Jules’ dad.

It can’t be Fez cos he was beating some guy up to get money for Mouse’s drugs.

So the only two viable options are Gia and Lexi. I honestly don’t think they would make Gia find Rue unconscious for the second time cos why would they repeat the exact same scene of Gia finding Rue unconscious when we’ve already seen it play out in Rue’s first OD?

So that leaves us with little Lexi which could work cos this would set her up for a significant season 2 story arc which Sam has already confirmed is definitely coming.

2) Someone found Rue after she OD’d and is giving her CPR:

In the finale song “all for us”, when they had Rue in the air, the choir chants “aye aye aye aye” and that is the number of times they are pressing on her chest and the pauses are them giving her air while we see her clenching her heart throughout this scene.

CPR is performed by pushing on a person’s chest 30 times before giving them air. In the song, it was 30 “ayes” which is the amount of time it would take to perform CPR by giving 30 compressions. I don’t think this is a coincidence at all cos a show as detailed as Euphoria would probably hire a very detailed choreographer.

Therefore we know that someone had found her after she OD’d and is attempting to give her CPR.

Finally what i think is going to happen:

After Cassie says to Lexi "then you go and do whoever the fuck u want", Lexi thought about it for the rest of the night and then finally mustered up the courage to confess her feelings for Rue.

So she looks around the room for Rue but when she can’t see her anywhere, she decides to text her asking where she is. When Nate's date approaches the table her and Cassie r sitting at, she's on her phone texting someone cos u can see both her thumbs r in the texting position and I think that's when she was texting Rue.

So while Rue's crying and walking back home, Lexi has already left the dance to go and find her after she doesn't respond to any of her texts (Rue was too busy running off with Jules) so Lexi’s like “fuck it imma just go to her house” cos she's already rly drunk.

And then by the time she reaches Rue's house, Rue has already taken a line and is unconscious on the floor so Lexi just finds her passed out in her room. Then Lexi immediately begins to perform CPR on Rue and she wakes up.

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dayasbun · 5 years ago

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Fame - Angus Cloud (2)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn't have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1

Part 2 {reading now}

You didn't do happy dances often, because usually there weren't many things that made you happy enough to dance for. But when you woke up after having the most splendid dream to an email that read:

'Hello Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N, and thank you for applying for the role as Jess. We have reviewed your audition tape and were quite pleased with what we saw. For the next step in the hiring process, we ask that you come to the same site yet again today at 3 PM for a go through with your possible costar, without the script. If that time isn't good for you, please return this email in its entirety so that we can reschedule, and if the time sounds good we can't wait to see you today. Thank you.'

...a happy dance seemed to be necessary, right?

Your excitement bubbled as you put on a light pink crop and a pair of simple blue jean shorts. The look was overall simple- too simple for you, so you decided to top it off with a few hair-clips, a coat of lip gloss on your lips, and lastly some sweet-smelling lotion on your bare arms and legs.

It seemed as though 3 came quickly, but you made sure you were there by 2:50. 'Better to be early than late', you always told yourself. You always stuck by that.

Walking into the building with your pink jelly wedges clicking against the marble floor you signed in. To your surprise, they called you in at 2:55, earlier than you were expecting.

"Y/N! Punctual and looking gorgeous as usual," said one of the co-producers, Mary, and to your surprise she greeted you with a hug. She was the woman that showed the most hospitality to you through out the time you had been auditioning, a sweet, short little woman that smelled like this mornings coffee.

"Aw thank you, you're so sweet," you smiled letting off of the hug and readjusting the crop.

"So Angus is running a bit late, it happens a lot so feel free to sit over there with the other girls and we'll just see where this takes you guys sound good?"

You wondered how he was running late when it was only 2:57, but you just agreed with a smile and walked over to sit with a small group of girls. All of them glared at you as you sat down, so you decided to weigh out the competition.

You weren't one to judge- or you tried not to be- but god these girls were bland. No hair-clips, no lip gloss- not even a smile. Almost all of them wore the same, a white button up blouse with black slacks, black ballet flats, and kept their hair tied back with a colorful scrunchie. Blonde, with perfectly painted nails and you would bet money they had pedicures to match. There was nothing wrong with them, but they seemed to not know how to have fun from the energy they were giving off, and how boring it must be to have no fun. You honestly almost couldn't help but to feel worried though, was there a dress code in the email that you missed?

More girls began to filter in as the next 10 minutes passed, at least some of them seemed to actually have a personality.

"Okay well imma call you back, I got some business to do- oh you know it you feel me!? Nah wit' the show, like auditioning with all these girls or sum. Yeah okay bet imma call you later anyway, bye."

3:13.

"Angus, you're late." Mary spoke up with a sigh, "I don't want any excuses from you, lets kick this into high gear shall we?"

"Who was giving excuses though like... I just be cancelling my alarm, nobody got time for waking up before 2:45 anyway."

That made you laugh a bit, and apparently louder than you expected, because the whole room, Angus included turned their heads to look at you. Mary shook her head and just looked at the list she held, and you lowered your eyes to look down at the carpeting. "Alright let's start. Girls exit the room, the auditions are one on one with just us, you, and Angus to avoid pressure and judgment."

You all stood up, heading towards the door to pile out.

"Y/N, stay."

Why'd you feel like you were about to get in trouble for laughing or some shit?

You turned around and walked to the center of the room by Angus, but you didn't look up at him. You could feel him watching you and considering you had no idea what he was thinking, you hated it.

"Well you two know what to do, start when you feel comfortable. Y/N has the first line."

You turned your body towards him and looked up, he was a lot taller than you...you felt like a little person.

Before you got too flustered, you let out a shaky breath and started. "But baby, come on you can do so much more, you can- we can travel the world or some corny shit like that, that's what you always wanted to do when we were kids. You don’t have to sell, and we can bring Ash with u-"

"Yeah well we ain't kids no more. Traveling takes money, I put all I got into stuff that's actually useful. I shoulda never gotten attached to you and shit again, damn you always do this."

"Fez..." your voice softened as you remembered this part of the script: 'Jess stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Fez's neck, pulling him down to her. Fez places his hands on her waist and...'

You did as the script said and he did as well. Feeling his hands on your bare waist you looked into his eyes- they were quite gorgeous- and continued on. "You say you want me but you don't act upon it. How am I supposed to be here if you don't open up to me-"

He let go of you and rolled his eyes, "Girl I got shit to do. So you can leave if you finna do allat."

"For fucks SAKE you're- God you're just frustrating! What do you have to do? Go sell? Go talk to Mouse and risk your goddamn life again because there's a drop of blood on money that you stole?! Its so hard to love you and you don't get that!"

"Its hard to love me? Me? Come on. How hard do you think it is to love a bitch with daddy issues that wants to watch Sailor Moon every night- I hate that shit! But I watch it for you- and you just complain about your dad not loving you and how he never coming back? Well maybe you should realize that shits true and move on from it all you do is-"

Your eyes begin to fill with tears and you immediately turned to walk away but were quickly pulled back into Angus- excuse me, Fez’s chest, your back against him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that shit."

You elbowed him in the chest- softly- causing him to groan and let go "You know you meant it. That's it Fez, I'm done." You walked away slowly ruffling your hair-

"Scene! Holyyyyyy wow that was amazing! The passion- are you guys sure you've never acted together before?"

You turned around jokingly bowing as you wiped your tears from the corners of your eyes. Angus laughed and came over to you shaking your hand. "You're good. I like yo' energy too, I hope to see you around set or sum."

You swallowed thickly, if you got this role you could not be this nervous around him everyday.

"It's not hard when I'm acting with someone so talented." You said softly, letting go of his hand after he shook it. He smiled with a chuckle "Thank you, thank you."

There was a strange tension between you two- why? You didn't know exactly, but you knew it wasn't only on your end. You thanked everyone for their time and they said they'd keep in touch. With one last glance at Angus- who had never stopped looking at you- you gave him a gentle smile and then walked out.

You rushed to the bathroom and into a stall, letting out a breath you didn't even know you had been holding in. You thought everything over, the tension, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the look of approval Mary had on her face when you two finished. You'd surprisingly never felt more confident about a role you'd tried out for, and due to that you couldn't seem to stop smiling.

#angus cloud fic #angus cloud #fezco smut #fezco imagine #fezco x reader #fezco fluff #fez euphoria #fezco fic #fezco euphoria #fluff

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zen3to5 · 5 years ago

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J/H 7-24: ‘Til the Next Goodbye

I suppose I could have worded the author's notes more clearly last time - some of you thought this was over! XD

We're not far from that point - there's only one more script after this. 7-23, 7-24, and 7-25 have been the most heavily rewritten of the episodes since "Ice Shack," which started this all. Original material is where I'm most concerned about matching the tone of the show and the voice of the characters, so here's hoping that comes through.

FF.Net AO3

***

SHOW TITLE INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY It’s a beautiful morning to have breakfast to, and ERIC, DONNA, and HYDE are all in the middle of a fabulous bacon/egg/French toast breakfast at the kitchen table. BOB and KITTY talk by the stovetop, where Kitty has fresh plates of bacon and toast waiting. Eric and Donna have a brochure unfolded between them that they read while they eat. DONNA: Eric, this apartment is even better than the one we were going to get the first time we planned on going away together. Can you believe it? ERIC: (mock doubt) Hmm... I don’t know, Donna – it may be nice, but can it hold up to the mobile home we almost had? Donna gives him an exaggerated “ah.” DONNA: You know, that is a good point. We really should see if there’s anything with bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom all crammed into the size of a minivan. They share a smile and turn back to the brochure. BOB: (to Donna) Well, I’m just happy you’re finally going to college, cupcake. It’s about time you used your potential. You may not end up the president of a company or anything, on account of you’re a gal, but you’ll make one hell of a secretary. DONNA: Dad, I’ll be studying to become a rock journalist. BOB: (shrugs) Either way, we’ll get our money’s worth out of those typewriter lessons you took when you were nine. He grabs a handful of bacon and starts working on it as he exits through the patio door. DONNA: God, just three more days. (to Eric) What’s the first thing you wanna do once we get to Madison? ERIC: You know, I’ve actually been thinking of what I still wanna do here before we leave. I mean, we’re finally getting out, so if there’s anything we still wanna do in Point Place, it’s now or never. Kitty looks up from the French toast. KITTY: Ooh! I have an idea – how about we all spend more time with your mother? Some antique shopping, some macramé classes, and to really top it all off, how about we don’t go off to Madison and leave her all alone? ERIC: Mom, I’m going. I know I’ve said that before – twice – but you know what they say – “third time’s a charm.” Kitty tuts, crosses over with the plate of French toast, and sets it in the center of the kitchen table. KITTY: Oh, honey, I’m just teasing. Of course, you and Donna have to go. And besides – I won’t be left all alone. She steps behind Hyde and catches him off-guard with a hug and a kiss to the top of the head. KITTY (cont’d): It paid to take in an orphan, didn’t it? (laughs) Oh, Steven, I signed Schatzi up for a doggy obedience school next month, and I want you to come with us to the classes. You’re the only person Schatzi listens to about yapping at other dogs or attacking the Andersons’ Great Dane. She exits into the living room, all smiles. Hyde looks down at his breakfast, avoiding Eric and Donna’s stares. ERIC: You haven’t told my parents you��re going to Chicago with Jackie at the end of the month, have you? HYDE: No, I haven’t. Red enters from the living room, dressed for work at the muffler shop. RED: Oh, Steven, glad I caught you – your dad called last night. Said you should get to work early. He’s got some big plans for the future of the store he wants to go over with you. He exits out the patio door. DONNA: (to Hyde) You didn’t tell your dad you’re leaving either, did you? HYDE: No, I didn’t. ERIC: Huh. Well, you’re probably not gonna have fun the next three days, are you? HYDE: No, I’m not. Eric and Donna give exaggerated nods as Hyde keeps at his breakfast.

MAIN CREDITS BUMPER INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY Shortly after breakfast. The empty basement is soon filled by Hyde, coming in from his room with a fresh shirt. He’s about to exit out the basement door when it opens, and he’s confronted by a grimacing KELSO and FEZ. They advance into the basement, backing Hyde up against the far wall. KELSO: Well, well. Look who it is. Do you see who it is, Fez? FEZ: Oh, I see who it is. KELSO: Yeah, it’s our former good buddy, Hyde. Who was formerly going to stick around when Eric and Donna and Jackie all left. But I guess that was formerly. He and Fez turn their heads in toward one another, even as they both keep glaring at an unfazed Hyde. HYDE: Every day, you two get closer to turning into full-on chicks. KELSO: Man, how can you bail on us like this? We knew Donna was gonna go off to college sooner or later, and we figured Eric would go with her even if he didn’t have anything going on - FEZ: And it was a good bet he wouldn’t – that one surprised us. KELSO: Yeah, but he does. And Jackie, she was always gonna get something good in TV, ‘cause she’s hot, but you? You don’t have anything going on in Chicago. You just wanna go ‘cause you love Jackie and wanna be with her. That is so selfish! He stomps his foot, for a full measure of “whiny man-child.” Fez takes a step in toward Hyde. FEZ: You didn’t think, did you? How this would affect your friends? Those you leave behind? HYDE: Come on, man. It’s not that far a drive to Chicago. Anytime you wanna hang out - KELSO: It’s not that. If you go, we lose the basement! HYDE: What? KELSO: With Eric going away, we were counting on you still being here so Red would let us keep using the basement to hang out! But now that his son and his orphan are both leaving, he’s gonna lock us out for sure! FEZ: And if we still get in, and he finds us, and you and Eric aren’t around, he will finally kill us. (whispers) I have seen it in his eyes. HYDE: (rolls eyes) Why don’t you two just hang out at your apartment? KELSO: My daughter. This basement is where we get to do all the stupid, irresponsible, pointless stuff that makes life fun. You can’t do that when there’s a baby around. So now where are we supposed to do that stuff? HYDE: Maybe you could try not doing it anymore? The three boys stare each other down for a moment, contemplating the thought. They all break into laughter at the same time. BUMPER INT. GROOVES - DAY Not dead, but not too busy – the perfect way for a small record store to start off the day. W.B. himself is at the register, along with ANGIE. Among the customers is LEO, jamming out to whatever music is in his headphones in the listening pit. Hyde and JACKIE enter, unnoticed by anyone. Jackie has her arms wrapped around Hyde’s right. His eyeball ring is on her left ring finger, despite being too big. While Hyde is stone-faced, Jackie is beaming, her grip on Hyde’s arm visibly shaking with excitement. JACKIE: Steven, I can’t wait to tell your family we’re getting married! Daddy was so excited when I told him, he promised to wire us a dowry from his Swiss bank account as soon as he gets out of prison! HYDE: Hey – keep it down, all right? I haven’t even told them we’re moving to Chicago yet. And I don’t think being the boss’s kid makes it any easier to replace a co-manager when you give three days’ notice. JACKIE: (rolls her eyes) Fine. I won’t tell anyone yet. Leo, seeing them, takes off the headphones and crosses to meet them. LEO: Hey, dudes. JACKIE: We’re getting married! Hopping in place, she holds out her ring hand for Leo to see. Hyde glares at her. HYDE: Jackie! JACKIE: Oh, he won’t remember, he has no short-term memory! Leo leans in, takes Jackie’s hand for a closer look at the ring. He looks up to Hyde. LEO: Hyde, man, you’re getting married? That’s great, man! Do I know the bride? Hyde and Jackie share a look and an eye roll. LEO (cont’d): (to Hyde) Hey, you know who you should marry? That loud girl you’re always hanging with. JACKIE: Leo, I am the loud girl. LEO: Hey, loud girl, did you hear Hyde’s getting married? He should marry you, man! Jackie and Hyde are spared any further Leoisms by W.B. and Angie crossing to join them. W.B. is all smiles. W.B.: Steven! Here you are. I’ve got some big news for you. JACKIE: Well, we’ve got some big news for you! W.B.: Well, why don’t I go first? I’d like to get going for Milwaukee some time before dinner. W.B. puts one arm around Hyde, the other around Angie, and leads them a few steps off to the side. Leo and Jackie wander back into the listening pit. W.B. (cont’d): I’d like to make a few changes around here. Now, Angie, I’ve noticed you’ve been doing an excellent job lately - HYDE: Excuse me? Angie doesn’t know anything about music. Someone came in the other day asking for Kiss, and she called him a pervert and slapped him in the face. And what about the time my friend Bob was in, asked for something “Dean Martiny?” She recommended Blondie. ANGIE: She was the top selling record that week. W.B.: See, that’s what I’m talking about. Sales, numbers, what’s moving off the shelves – my little girl’s a whiz at all that. That’s why I want her to move back to Milwaukee and help run the corporate office. ANGIE: Wait, Daddy – are you promoting me? W.B.: Sure am, honey. It’s the biggest smile Angie’s ever had on her face. Her eyes wide, she gives a little squeak and falls over in a blackout. W.B. looks down at her, smiles, and shakes his head. W.B. (cont’d): Just like her mother. HYDE: Uh, W.B., if Angie’s going to Milwaukee, who’s gonna run the store? W.B.: You are, son! You know music, you’re good with the customers – that’s where you excel. So the store’s all yours. Angie starts to come to, though she’s still in quite a daze. W.B. helps her to her feet and guides her back to the register. Hyde, less than thrilled, steps back over to a confused Jackie. JACKIE: Did you tell them? HYDE: No. And I think I just got stuck with a two-hour commute to work every day. He shakes his head as Jackie cocks hers. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY Around lunchtime. Kelso and Fez help themselves to some lunch – potato chips, hot dogs, and soda. They lean on opposite sides of the island as they eat and talk. KELSO: I just can’t believe we’re not gonna get to hang out here anymore. No more eating Mrs. Forman’s cooking, no more taking Red’s beers, no more putting fire ants in Eric’s bed to burn him, no more sneaking in at night for sex with his sister... FEZ: That is my one regret about my brief marriage to Laurie Forman. KELSO: The sex? FEZ: No, that I never got any. KELSO: Hey, that’s a good point – you were married to Laurie. And I used to do it with her all the time. Red’s gotta love us for that, right? He’s not gonna lock us out once Hyde and Eric are gone! The boys nod, scoff at the thought of being thrown out, and trade playful jabs. Red enters through the patio door, sees the boys. RED: Oh – you two. They stop goofing around and look to Red. RED (cont’d): You know the first thing I’m doing once Eric’s off at college? Calling a locksmith. And I’m not just gonna have him work on the doors. He passes through the kitchen into the living room. A crestfallen Kelso and Fez share a look. BUMPER INT. ERIC’S BEDROOM – DAY Eric’s room is in a state of tear down. Most of the posters are off the walls and rolled up against the wall, boxes packed with action figure and models are everywhere, and Eric and Donna are in the middle of folding clothes to put into an open suitcase on the bed. DONNA: (to Eric) Have you thought about what else you wanna do in Point Place before we leave? Because I don’t think I have anything. I was the local DJ, I helped vandalize the water tower, I burned out a lot – is there really anything else to do in this town? ERIC: Maybe it’s not things we haven’t done so much as ways of doing things we haven’t tried. DONNA: What do you mean? ERIC: I mean... well, take my room. He sweeps his arm, indicating the few posters and figures still left up. ERIC (cont’d): It’s my lair, my Batcave, my Fortress of Solitude, if you will. And there’s a certain something that we’ve done in here before – many times – that I, for one, greatly enjoy. Donna silently chuckles, nods; she knows what he’s driving at. ERIC (cont’d): And I think, before we pack everything away, we could find a way to do that particular thing in a way that fits the milieu of my lair. DONNA: (laughing) Okay. What did you have in mind? Eric grins, wiggles his eyebrows. CUT TO: Donna sits on the bed, in full PRINCESS LEIA costume. Her hair is even twisted up into the buns. She seems resigned, even mildly amused, to this outfit. Eric sits next to her, hands clasped together, nodding and smiling as he admires her outfit. BUMPER INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY Red, still dressed for work, and Kitty in her nurse’s uniform, sit at the kitchen table, enjoying a hot dog lunch at home. Kitty has SCHATZI in her lap and feeds him the odd bit of hot dog every so often. Hyde and Jackie enter through the patio door. Schatzi gives a friendly yip when he sees Hyde, drawing attention their way. KITTY: Oh, there he is! (laughs) Schatzi’s looking forward to his doggy classes with his big brother. (lifts up Schatzi, does “cute” voice) Yes, he is! (laughs) HYDE: Um... yeah. Look, Mrs. Forman - RED: Kitty, don’t baby talk at the boy. He’s not Eric, for God’s sake. (to Hyde) So, Steven, there’s another auto show coming up. Whaddya say we hit the floor? HYDE: Wow, Red. That sounds great, but... JACKIE: (to the Formans) Steven doesn’t have time for doggy classes and auto shows. His dad just gave him the record store to run all on his own. Hyde glares at her. HYDE: Jackie! She shrugs; their move and engagement have completely slipped her mind. JACKIE: What? That’s more responsibility than I ever thought you’d take on at work. I’m proud of you. HYDE: Well, I can’t take on that responsibility if I go off with you to Chicago. Red and Kitty both stand. RED & KITTY: You WHAT? They stare at Jackie and Hyde, who shift awkwardly under their glare. Schatzi growls in Kitty’s arms. FADE TO BLACK COMMERCIAL BUMPER INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY Right where we left off. Kitty fumes as Red points at Hyde. RED: You’re moving to Chicago? (Hyde nods) When? HYDE: In three days. The same time Forman’s going to UW. KITTY: THREE DAYS? There’s no time for doggy classes in three days! HYDE: Well, that’s when Jackie’s job starts in Chicago, so - KITTY: (to Jackie) Oh, I should’ve known this was all your fault, you little tramp! She advances on Jackie, handing Schatzi off to Hyde. KITTY (cont’d): You and that Donna, you’re all alike, with your dolled-up faces and your flashy clothes – and I bet you don’t even wear a bra. You come in here, sweep sons and orphans off their feet, and then what are the mothers left with? What are they supposed to do? You tell me what I am supposed to do! JACKIE: (beat) Steven and I are engaged. She holds up her left hand and wiggles her ring finger. Kitty looks from Jackie’s face to her ring, then back. Her jaw slowly drops. Then she throws her hands up as she bursts into a screaming laughter, that Jackie – hesitantly at first, the enthusiastically – joins in on. KITTY: Oh, honey, that’s wonderful! And I know this wedding will go through – you are the one person around here who wouldn’t let a little thing like the groom not showing up stop you from getting married! (laughs) Oh, I – I need to hear all about it. She takes Jackie by the hand and leads her into the living room. Hyde and Red stare after the women. Red looks amused; Hyde, shocked. HYDE: What the hell was that? Jackie just totally diffused everything. RED: That’s because there’s something she knows that you’ve got to learn – no matter how old they get, women are always excited by weddings. (turns to Hyde) So – marriage and Chicago, eh? Are you ready? HYDE: (beat) Yeah. Red offers his hand, and Hyde shakes it. HYDE (cont’d): Any advice? RED: Yeah – don’t let your kids bring their friends over to your house. Before lunch, I caught the moron and the foreigner trying to force the windows open. I had to chase ‘em off with the garden hose. Hyde slowly nods as Red sits back down to his lunch. CUT TO: INT. ERIC’S BEDROOM - DAY Concurrent with the previous scene. Eric and Donna are still on the bed, Donna still taking Eric’s admiring gaze with good humor. ERIC: Donna, thank you so much for doing this. This is... wow. I don’t – I don’t even know where to start. DONNA: Well, Princess Leia’s force field is down, so you can start wherever you want. ERIC: Well, Donna, Leia doesn’t have a force field. Force fields are for – you know what, I’m too excited to quibble! Okay, so... can I start by touching your buns? DONNA: What, you want to touch my butt? ERIC: No, not those buns. You know... (points to her hair) The buns. DONNA: Eric, that seems kinda weird. ERIC: Yeah, you know what? That is, like, a little weird. Maybe I’ll just rub my face up against one of ‘em. DONNA: But Eric - ERIC: Um, okay, Donna – from now on, the only thing I’d like you to say is, “use the Force, Eric.” DONNA: Okay, that seems really - ERIC: Donna... He tilts his head down, gives her “the look.” She sighs, turns her head so he has a better angle on the left bun. DONNA: Use the Force, Eric. Eric nods, scoots in closer, and gently caresses Donna’s left bun with his face. ERIC: Leia... oh, Leia... Donna rolls her eyes, but lets Eric keep at it. BUMPER INT. GROOVES – DAY Later in the afternoon. The crowd has thinned slightly, though Leo is still in the listening pit and W.B. is still around. He and Angie are reviewing paperwork at the register when Hyde and Jackie enter and cross to them. HYDE: W.B., man, I’ve gotta talk to you. ANGIE: (to Hyde) If it’s about Bottle Rocket Friday Nights, I already told him. HYDE: No... (to W.B.) I can’t manage the store. ANGIE: (to W.B.) Called it. She opens the register and takes out a 20; apparently, she and W.B. had a bet going about this. W.B. frowns, looks up at Hyde. W.B.: Steven, I’ve told you – I won’t let you quit on me. I know you can handle this store on your own. HYDE: It’s not that. I’ve just got something else going. W.B.: “Something else going?” Like what? JACKIE: Me! She extends her left hand and wiggles her ring finger. W.B. and Angie lean in for a closer look. ANGIE: (skeptical) You’re selling eyeball rings? JACKIE: (pulls her hand back) We’re getting married, you whore! W.B. and Angie both glare at her. JACKIE (cont’d): (to W.B.) You can’t hit a girl. She hides behind Hyde, who shakes his head and sighs. HYDE: (to W.B.) We’re engaged, man. And Jackie’s got a TV job in Chicago, so we’re moving there at the end of the month. ANGIE: That’s in three days. HYDE: Yeah, well, that’s more notice than I was gonna give. ANGIE: What were you gonna give us? HYDE: I was gonna not show up for work in three days. W.B.’s frown deepens. He steps out from behind the register, crosses to Hyde. W.B.: Steven, I’m very disappointed. HYDE: Hey, I don’t owe you anything. I never said I was looking for a long-term future with you. Jackie’s the one with all the future plans, and I wanna be with her. Jackie “awws,” hugs Hyde from behind. He shifts in her arms to get his arm around her shoulder, and they both look defiantly up at W.B. W.B.: Steven, you didn’t let me finish. I’m disappointed because now I’ve only got three days to get you set up at the Chicago Grooves. He sees their shocked faces and smiles. W.B. (cont’d): Grooves is a chain, man. I’ve got these stores all over the Midwest! (offers his hand) This is great news, son. And you’re right – you’ve got your own life to live. But if you want to run the Chicago Grooves, I’ll make the call. HYDE: (takes W.B.’s hand) Wow. Uh – thanks, man. W.B.: (to Jackie) And congratulations. I know you’ll give ‘em hell. (points at Hyde) You give it to him all the time anyway. Jackie rolls her eyes but smiles back. Hyde kisses her on her forehead. ANGIE: (crosses to the others) Wait... who’s going to run the Grooves here then? Leo comes up behind Hyde, puts a hand on his shoulder. LEO: Hey, dudes. Hyde and Jackie look to Leo. Very slowly, very knowingly, they look to W.B. and Angie. Neither of them looks in any way convinced. W.B.: (to Hyde) You’re sure about this? HYDE: Yeah, man, Leo’s a good guy. (puts arm around Leo) He used to run the Fotohut in town. And he only locked himself out of it twice. LEO: Actually, it was three times, but I got in through the window I left open. W.B. and Angie still don’t look convinced, but they don’t have any other available options. Hyde and Jackie nod, satisfied, and they each clap a grinning Leo on the back. FADE TO BLACK TITLE CARD CARD 1: Three weeks later CARD 2: Eric Forman’s house CARD 3: August 31, 1979 CARD 4: 10:45 a.m. EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - DAY Late morning. The EL CAMINO and VISTA CRUISER are both in the driveway, and both are loaded up with boxes, bags, and suitcases. Donna is adjusting the ties around the bags on top of the Vista Cruiser, while Jackie adjusts the boxes in the flatbed of the El Camino. They talk as they work. DONNA: And then he brought out this whole stormtrooper outfit and had me reenact that scene where Luke rescues Leia from the prison cell. Except we didn’t so much “escape” as “have sex.” In costume. JACKIE: Okay, Donna, do yourself a favor: when you get to UW, don’t tell anyone you’re dating the Star Wars sex student teacher. DONNA: It wasn’t that bad. Eric was happy. Plus, after we were done, he did something I always wanted to do in my room. JACKIE: Oh, yeah? What? Donna checks the Forman’s patio; no one is there. She looks up and down the street; no one is around. Even with the coast all clear, she beckons Jackie over and whispers the answer into her ear. That answer makes Jackie gasp, clasp a hand over her mouth, and grab Donna’s wrist with the other hand as both girls start giggling. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY It’s a subdued gathering of the guys in a markedly stripped-down basement; most of the games, most of the toys, most of the records are gone. Eric and Hyde are busy packing up the last of their things while Kelso and Fez sulk on the couch. FEZ: Well, here we are. Our last time in the basement together, just us guys. (to Eric, Hyde) I am going to miss you two. You are good people. ERIC: Miss you too, buddy. FEZ: You were the first people to look out for me when I came to this country. The first to welcome me into your home. The first to give me beer and booby magazines. (sniffs) Oh, here come the water works. He puts a hand over his face as the tears swell up. KELSO: Yeah, I’ll miss you guys too. And the girls. Mostly the girls. I’ll even miss Hyde frogging me ‘cause of stuff I say about Jackie. As Hyde passes behind the couch with a few shirts, he pauses to frog Kelso in the arm. HYDE: There you go, man. Parting shot. KELSO: Thanks, Hyde. And I really am gonna miss this basement. No more late night drinking, no more sex on the couch. It’s the end of an era. I guess your friends moving away and the responsibility of watching your illegitimate child on weekends really can change your life. Eric and Hyde, boxes in hand, pause on their way to the stairs and look to Kelso. ERIC: Wait – you only have Betsy on weekends? KELSO: Yep. He doesn’t get it, and neither does the still-sobbing Fez. Eric and Hyde share a pitying look. ERIC: (to Kelso) Doesn’t that mean you have the whole week to, like, do all the stupid, irresponsible, pointless things in your apartment that you used to do here? Slowly, Kelso and Fez look up from their brooding. Slowly, they turn toward one another. At once, they spring out of their seats, embrace each other, and dance around in circles, screaming in incoherent delight at this revelation. Eric and Hyde both smile, shake their heads, and head up the stairs. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – DAY Red sits in his chair, alone in the room. He has an envelope in one hand and a pocketknife in the other. When the kitchen door opens and Eric and Hyde enter, he stands and faces the boys. RED: Ah, boys, there you are. I wanted to talk to you before you leave. I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve been looking forward to having you, and anyone your age, out of the house for a long time. ERIC: (flat) Oh, really? Did you notice that, Hyde? HYDE: You know, I think I got that impression once or twice. ERIC: Was it when he said, “it will be more glorious than D-Day?” HYDE: (snaps his free hand) That was it. RED: Yeah. Well... (to Eric) You’re my son – (to Hyde) And you are a fine young man. So... here. He hands Hyde the envelope. RED (cont’d): It’s all the money you’ve paid in rent over the years, plus the interest it picked up in your savings account. Hyde sets his box down, takes the envelope, opens it up. HYDE: Whoa. RED: I was tempted to blow that all on booze. Don’t you fall for that idea. (to Eric) And Eric – here. Eric sets his box down and, very reverentially, takes the knife. ERIC: This is your pocketknife from Korea. You said if I ever touched it, I’d meet the same fate as hundreds of other godless commies. RED: Well, I want you to have it. And I want you to know that I’m gonna miss you, and I love you. ERIC: Wait a second. What did you just say? RED: You heard me. He opens his arms and pulls Eric into a hug, which Eric returns. ERIC: Thank you, Dad. Red breaks the hug first. He turns to embrace Hyde, who hugs him back. When they finish, Red claps both boys on the shoulder. They pocket their gifts, pick up their boxes, and exit through the kitchen door. CUT TO: EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - DAY Eric and Hyde step outside to find Bob holding Donna in a tight, swaying embrace. He’s already blubbering. BOB: Oh, I’m gonna miss you, pumpkin. DONNA: I’ll miss you too, Dad. But don’t start eating whole trays of lasagna by yourself, like you did when I was in California. Bob lets her go. BOB: (sniffs) I only promise to try. He pulls a hankie from his pocket and dabs his eyes as he walks off. Eric and Hyde join the girls by the cars, set their boxes down. Donna crosses to Hyde. DONNA: Hyde, I’m gonna miss you. They hug. Jackie crosses to Eric. JACKIE: Eric, I’ll miss you too. You’ve always been very special to me. ERIC: (skeptical) Okay, Jackie, I think the first thing you should do when you get to Chicago is see a psychiatrist. Jackie rolls her eyes and opens her arms for a hug. Eric nods, lets her hug him, gives a very light one back. When they finish, Jackie crosses to Donna. JACKIE: And of course, I’ll miss you. My big, clumsy lumberjack. DONNA: My annoying little midget. They smile and hug. Eric and Hyde turn to face each other. HYDE: Hey, man. I got you something for your place in Madison. ERIC: Yeah? Well, I got you something for your place in Chicago. Each pulls out a paper bag. They trade bags, turn away, and look inside. They turn back to each other, all grins. HYDE/ERIC: Nice./All right. They clasp hands and pull into a hug. The girls come up behind them and turn it into a group hug. A crying Fez and a grinning Kelso come running out from around the house. FEZ: MY BUDDIES! They crash into the group hug, joining in on it. The patio door opens and a sobbing Kitty comes running out, Schatzi in her arms. KITTY: MY BABY! She worms her way into the heart of the group hug to get at Eric. Bob comes running back up the street to hug the group too. Red steps out from the house, but doesn’t join in. ERIC: What? Yeah, okay. This is – this is nice. Yeah. It’s actually getting a little hard to breathe. Okay, that’s good, everyone! Stop now! The group hug breaks. Kelso takes Fez in his arms as he continues to cry. Hyde scratches Schatzi’s head “goodbye,” then lets Kitty retreat into Red’s arms. He and Jackie get into the El Camino. Donna crosses to Eric. DONNA: This is it. We’re finally off to the rest of our lives. ERIC: Together. DONNA: Yeah – together. They kiss. Donna climbs into the passenger seat of the Vista Cruiser. Eric moves to the driver’s side door, takes one last look around his childhood home. ERIC: (quietly) So long, Point Place. He gives a small wave to the town. He climbs in and starts the car. The El Camino starts too. (MUSIC NOTE: instrumental version of “That 70s Song.”) The El Camino pulls away first, then the Vista Cruiser. Bob, Fez, Kelso, and the Formans all wave goodbye as the cars drive off, Kitty waving one of Schatzi’s little paws. FADE TO BLACK CREDITS INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT A few days later. The basement is still stripped down to just the furniture. Red is at the door. With great relish, he turns the newly installed locks. He savors the click, gives an approving nod. He crosses to the couch, sits down, and turns on the TV to a football game. Red watches in contentment, at first. His smile slowly fades. He looks to his left and his right. He looks back at the door and back at the stairs. He sighs. His arms fold across his chest and his face settles into a scowl. RED: Ah, hell. It’s too damn quiet in here! END.

#z's fics #that 70s show #zenmasters #jackie x hyde #zen3to5+#fan fiction #fan script

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jacquelineshyde · 6 years ago

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Sex and the City but instead of four girls is Jackie, Fez and Donna XD

LMAO, make it four with Brooke because I love writing her (and Kelso). Now, do you realize this is about the movie, right? The one when Mr. Big left Carrie at the altar? That one. Prepare for angst and suffering.

After years of struggling and dating some other asses, Jackie has finally got her happy day to day with Hyde, her own and only Mr. Big, who never wanted something serious until things just turned that way between him and Jackie.

Living together and enjoying life together is one of the best things he has done at the moment. Is amazing how their lives just collided with her best friend, Donna, marrying his best friend, Eric; how the four of them also ended being friends with her ex, that then married one of her best friends and now have a kid, and Fez turned out to be a great dude to spend time with. All is fine, settle, he never thought he would be this happy in a relationship and sure that he wants her forever in his life.

So when she brings the marriage theme, he is ready to say he wants that too. She is surpised but doesn’t act on it, only smiles and waits for him to do the next step. They start planning a simple wedding with only their friends, and no party or big dresses or any of that. She already has idea of what to wear for it, and while her friends aren’t as happy as her, they respect that she has changed her mind about having a big white wedding.

This is Steven, alright, Mr. Big.

It costed them enogh to be together to now ruin it with her desires of cliché romance and whatnot. Yet, slowly, he starts letting her do whatever circus she wants of that wedding. By the time the media knows Jackie Burkhart, everyone’s favorite fashion and make up blogger, co-creator of the blog and now magazine, ‘Sex and the City’, is finally getting married, she gets invited by Vougue to pose in their bride’s edition.

Of course she has to be there! And Hyde seems a little uncomfortable with how big things are getting and how he can’t bring himself to just stop her for a second and ask what is going on, why suddenly he isn’t allowed to say his opinion on things and when did this become only about her desires? He understands, this is every woman’s especial day, but is also his. Yet, he stays quiet and tries to just be happy is happening and his girl is this happy.

Meanwhile, tragedy comes to The Formans’ home. Eric and Donna’s sexual life is in crisis and with Donna working hard and all the damn time, Eric is starting to feel inadequate there. They have a little kid, and he basically takes care of him by himself since Donna’s boss is a bitch and she ony has time to work, work, work.

On a drunken night, he almost makes a mistake and when he tries to tell Donna, she interpretates it as she wants and doesn’t believe in his words when he explains it didn’t happen, but he did flirt with the girl and made out with her.

Hurt, she decides that they need time as he apologizes in all the ways he can find. When she takes this in her hands and doesn’t listen to him, Eric gets furious and decides he has had enough, making the sepration not a simple break, but an actual attempt to get a divorce.

Hyde and Kelso get to calm him down a little, but they remind separated as the wedding gets closer and closer.

Fez, on the other hand, has had a relationship with the same guy for years. He is still our pervy guy, he still looks and does bad comments, but his boy loves him anyway. Yet, lately, he has felt like if something is missing in his life and when a hot neighbor moves to the house nex to theirs, he discovers that he isn’t happy anymore in a relationship but can’t admit it. Not to him, not to the girls, not to anyone.

He will try to mantain his relationship the best he can. Because he does loves this guy, is just… maybe he isn’t made to be in long relationships, maybe it’s time for other things too.

By the time reharsal party is here, Donna is over the edge with her marriage situation and needs a break. Hyde ends up trying to reach her but she snaps back, “Why are you getting married!? It’s the biggest mistake of your life!” and damn.

She seriously needs a break, and Hyde needs to talk to Jackie. They are sleeping in different places for the night, and when he calls to say goodnight and tries to talk to her, she’s too blind by her extremadely big and public wedding to notice Hyde’s attempt at real talking.

Next morning, The Kelso’s home is a mess with the girls getting ready and Betsy running from side to side since her dad is at Hyde’s with the boys. Fez cames to style everyone and Jackie leaves her phone forgotten somewhere when Betsy picks it and shoves it into her purse. Once everyone is ready, and the boys had called to say they are also ready, they go to the wedding.

When Jackie and her friends arrive, Fez is there looking pale and ill.

Jackie doesn’t need to listen to him to know what is going on, she asks for her phone before he can tell them that Hyde hasn’t arrived. In short, he doesn’t show up and she needs to leave this fucking place before she burst into hysterical crying.

They find Jackie’s phone and the million calls Hyde did before the mess and after the scene in the street (you know the one), but it doesn’t matter anymore. She is a mess, she can’t believe this happened after all they’ve been throught.

None of the boys also know what to say or to do, and Eric gets out of everyting and tries to see what the hell with Hyde. Fez tries to cancel the honey moon, but seeing is imposible, he decides to buy tickets for the girls and go with them into said travel.

With Kelso staying home with Betsy and Eric with Hyde and Eric’s kid, they leave.

#zenmasters #hyde and jackie #hyde x jackie #that 70s show #nini got mail #au tag #my aus #hj aus #ed aus #kb aus #otp: anything for you doll #mine #Anonymous #otp: baby buuurn!#eric x donna

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anissapierce · 6 years ago

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John Constantine's mysterious beau

So Legends of Tomorrow dropped the name and a clearer image of the person who's weighing John down.

The press for the season says "Phil Klemmer told me there is a plan to establish a romance of Constantine’s that presumably took place between the end of his eponymous NBC series and the character’s arrival in the Arrowverse. That relationship, with a man, will have had tragic overtones, and as such still haunts John." (https://tvline.com/2018/07/26/hawaii-five-0-season-9-spoilers-steve-danny-expendables/)

So two and two together says that Dez is John's ex. And Dez is actually the name of not One but Two characters in Hellblazer comics. One's white and pretty inconscequentional so ill talk abt him under a read more.But the other ones black and likely what Phil & Co. are building on in the show.

But the character of Dez Ridley is more important.Apparently him & Constantine go at least a little back and are friends.(His brothers more important but Fez still was a focal point for two issues). His character and his family are victims of white supremacist violence, including a fire. Though he dies because people wanted to punish Constantine for getting involved with the Angel Michael, said people were also racist.So he died because of white supremacist violence too. (The comic like shows his butchered face, but I'm not gonna. Also the comic uses the n-slur but im censoring that too)

(Hellblazer 64-65)

Cw is obviously not gonna let this storyline fly, and I doubt that Phil & co would want to do this storyline anyway.

Most of Constantine's brand is 'people getting killed for his manpain' so I'm interested in how this adaption is gonna handle it.

(Thank god tbh bc that storyline imo trash. I hope that this Dez in the show is still alive but I'm doubtful. I'm apprehensive abt a storyline where a black person is killed for white man pain but ... It could be worse).

Under the cut is another Dez

Dez #2 never got a last name. He's a tech expert typa dude. Him and john got way back. He helps john ... Ends up dead ...john gets sad. Ill post the funeral pic in a Reblog bc this post already has ten pics and I can't add more

(Hellblazer 111)

#john constantine #legends of tomorrow #hellblazer #dez ridley #antiblackness -#anti black slurs -#blood -

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cubicscubedemon · 7 years ago

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It had taken a lot of asking directions, and the dense townsfolk kept giving such vague, frustrating answers. But eventually the Shape’s suspicions were confirmed, as soon as they finally managed to reach the clearing where the Mystery Shack should have been.

There was an empty, grassy lot with a sealed metal door in the ground off to the right, that they surmised led to the basement. The totem pole was still there. So were the tacky signs that said things like “9TH WORLD WONDER”. But the entire rest of the Shack was gone.

There was also a sign written in chalk: WE’LL BE BACK AT 4:00!

So they settled down in the shade of a redwood to wait. Arms behind their head, looking up at the soft pink sky. What a nice color for the sky to be. And speaking of ‘pink’...what was that about the Axolotl, anyway? A ‘small part lurking around’... Greater and deeper magical underpinnings the whole dimension over... Thinking was hard; they could feel their usual knowledge maddeningly just out of reach, twisted into a shallow version their temporary meat brain could process. Stupid curse.

...The Axolotl-- did the Axolotl have something to do with the Reset--?

Crash!

The impact knocked their glasses off. They scrambled to find them in the pine needles just as the approaching Shack cast its shadow over the clearing. The tourists that had gathered--without the Shape even noticing--all scurried back, whipping out cameras and phones to take pictures.

Crash! came another footstep from the Shack. Sawyer’s dimension, apparently, had an interesting variation on it-- the Pines had decided to leave it in “Shacktron” mode permanently, because it was “cool”.

This is going to be a bit difficult, the Shape thought, as the monstrous mechanical house and its gift-shop descended into the clearing. The bottom of the Shack connected snugly with the sealed basement door. The “limbs” were somehow tucked out of sight. The whole insane structure settled into looking just like the familiar tourist trap.

A young man in a suit and fez stepped out of the Shack--the Shape had to rack their brains a bit for the name--”Soos”?

“We’ll be back in 10 minutes!” he called out breathlessly. His face was that of a child on Christmas.

This gave the Shape more than enough time to evaluate the outside of the Shack itself. They couldn’t properly see the unicorn barrier while they were trapped in this form, but they knew it was probably still there, and they couldn’t predict how it would react to someone who was normally a dream demon and currently...wasn’t. Looked like there was nothing for it except to go on the next tour.

They hid in the group of tourists and managed to smuggle themself aboard without paying, instinctively bracing as they were pushed through the door--

--and they felt nothing. Well, almost nothing, aside from an old Pixie Stix taste in their mouth and a general weird, sticky feeling. Yuck. If they’d been in their true shape, getting through would have been impossible, and the fact that they felt anything at all made it a safe bet that the barrier was still pretty damn strong.

“You people are lucky!” somebody--Stanley--was saying. “You get a rare Summer Co-Tour with Mr. Mystery over here--” He jabbed his thumb at Soos. “--and me, Stan Pines! So that’s $10 extra on admission.” The Shack lurched to its feet, sending the tourists swaying across the floor. “Now, let our walking tour of weirdness begin! Eh? Eh? Get it--”

“They get it, Stan.” The voice belonged to a teenaged boy whose name the Shape was too distracted to remember at the moment. Dipstick. Ladle. Some kind of utensil. Of course those kids were here for the summer, nothing was ever easy. ...Why did they feel so seasick?

“Alright, doodz, hang on to something! Our first stop is the Bottomless Pit--”

“$5 to chuck something in!” Stan shouted over Soos.

The Shape was not paying attention to the tour at all. They were trying to slink around in the back unnoticed, gathering as much information as they could about this souped-up version of the Shack’s specs. They snuck away to the gift shop, and then through there to the rest of the house. It looked much the same as any other version of the Shack might, except with a few more pieces of furniture bolted down, and half disguised machinery embedded into the walls. This dimension really was weird.

They put their ear to the floor. So if that connected there...and that was over there... It was hard to concentrate while they were feeling increasingly ill. But they thought they had an idea how this junkheap fit together.

They still weren’t quite sure how they were going to pull this off. They aimed to leave a smoking crater where this house used to be, but they didn’t think it’d be a good idea to get too careless. The Pines should be kept alive, they weren’t exactly replaceable--and you never knew if they’d turn out to be useful or not. The Shape’s mind went after a hundred different ideas at once-- Monsters? Arson? Curses...?

Ugh, they couldn’t think straight--it was the barrier, wasn’t it! It was even stronger than they thought...

“...You’re not supposed to be in here,” someone said.

The Shape looked up from where they were still kneeling on the floor. It was that kid. The one with the birthmark. “Uh...”

“Grunkle Stan!”

The old man poked his head into the living room. “Dipper, we-- we’re kind of in the middle of wrapping up this tour-- whoa, bud, you okay there? You’re looking a lil’ green...” Stan squinted at them. “Hey, wait a minute, you didn’t pay!”

The Shape was unceremoniously punted out of the Shacktron for their trouble. They landed in a tree. “Nice try, you shady weirdo!” the younger twins could be heard shouting as the Shack walked away.

The Shape dropped to the ground. The nausea was instantly clearing up. So that little adventure in recon could have gone better. But no matter...

...they had all the information they needed.

#narrative #event: cursed with humanity #event: the assignment #v: renegade #phase one: complete

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adventurepunks · 3 years ago

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thedemonconstantine:

That was sexist coming from Talia but John understood why she thought so.

“Lass is still young, Tal. As long as she keeps ‘ta a gud ‘ygiene fer now, she’ll be fine. We kin work on ‘er groomin’ as she grows oulder.”

He seemed to mull over things for a while before continuing, reaching out his hand across the kitchen table to hold hers.

“Yeh know, Alexis told me afore. She envies yeh beauty. She said afore nah ma’er ‘ow much she tries she’ll ne’er be as gorgeous as yeh. I fink is why she gave up tryin’,” He brought his wife’s hand to his lips to kiss each knuckle, then pressed her palm to his cheek with a sigh.

“She played wiff yeh makeup afore now innit? Didn’tje catch ‘er muckin’ abar yeh drawers? I’m nah too concerned abar ‘er femininity. I raver she learn abar ‘erself more, abar ‘er own sexuailty ‘n ‘er inner self, ‘n learn confidence, coz woh’s really attractive is tha’,” John did grin a little wryly though.

“Pre’ey legs ‘n a pre’ey face does ‘elp o’ coz, I won’t lie,” But those were easier to achieve than the things that came from within.

“Yeh scoldin’ ‘er all th’ time is nah ‘elpin’, Tal. She’ll just wants ‘ta ‘ave less ‘n less o’ wotcher want o’ ‘er.”

John chuckled at the use of the word ‘terrifying’.

“I dun see th’ lads runnin’ away from ‘er like she’s Godzilla or sumfing…alrite, mebbe two or three.” Snigger.

He took the little fez and put it on, then stood up from his chair to sit on Talia’s lap instead, curling his arms around her shoulders for a tight, warm hug.

“I luv yeh so much. I luv yeh, me Queen. I know yeh wants th’ best for all o’ us, nah just our children buh fer me too. I know. Buh yeh need ‘ta take a step back, relax a smidge. Go shoppin’, ‘ave a spa day. Work at th’ office, be at Infinity Island. Our children will be alrite. All o’ ‘em.”

John withdrew to really look at her.

“Tha’s coz yeh far too busy tryin’ ‘ta keep us all t’gever. Tell yeh woh. Let’s take a look at some o’ our ‘ouse’old duties ‘n I see if I kin take some off yeh ‘ands. If it gits too much, we kin git a part-time ‘elper. Four duckies is quite a lot on yeh plate. Sounds spiffy enough?”

“She isn’t ugly. She is lazy. Very lazy. It takes work and determination to put your best self forward every day. Do not make excuses for her, she could be as beautiful as Nix Chandler if she only bothered with herself.” Talia was adamant that Alexis could do better.

“Apathy is the worst thing one can do to a child. The day I stop pushing her is the day you will know I have given up on her..and it will be a sad day for us all indeed”

“And how can I take a step back and relax, have a spa day if I can’t trust my husband to stay sober and take care of them when I need him to? I can’t plan everything, I have taken many steps back. I oversee rather than be active in my life’s work for our children, it’s hard enough to accept a child minder some nights so we can have a date night I am not letting some stranger raise our children. I just want you to make some tough decisions for their better good so I don’t always have to. To actually think what is best for their future even if a little sacrifice must be made now” Talia spoke and had to at least once play dirty and mention his sobriety. “I will take a step back and relax if you take my place. Keep them driven and determined. I chose to be a mother and I accept the sacrifices I must make for such.” Although it did break her heart when Damian feared she would cast him aside if he asked to drop a class.

“Send Alexis to a finishing school. Make the tough choice for her even if she gets upset. You know she lacks graces and basic etiquette, she lacks even basic manners! In the grand scheme of her life one summer of less frolicking and fun is worth it. To ease your wife’s mind. You might pretend that life is okay being anti-establishment and lackadaisical but you above all knows the pain such a life wills, the hunger, the cold. Condemn your daughter to the same suffering and struggle you endured if you will..whatever you decide it is in your hands. I will support whatever decision you make...but you are the one that must make it"

“Afternoon-” speak of the devil the little girl came in dragging her backpack, took her shoes off and with a face like a punched watermelon went to her room.

"What's the matter little one?" Talia asked and got nothing but a sigh in return as Alexis threw herself into her bed and under her covers. She didn't even notice her bunny was gone...yet.

#thedemonconstantine #;;talia al ghul threads

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talesofmundanemagic · 8 years ago

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Gertie and Bridget go shopping

“Bridget? Are you home?”

The door opened, interrupting Gertie’s pounding, but instead of her sister it was her roommate Patricia who answered, looking mad enough to call the residential advisor.

“She’s out,” she said, her words clipped.

“Sorry.” Gertie backed away.

“Gertie?”

Gertie turned to see Bridget at the other end of the hall. Ziggy, their ghost dog, barked and ran from her heels to Gertie.

“Ziggy!” Gertie cried, grinning as the dog whooshed up to her face and lapped at her chin. Her baseball cap, firmly on her head and supporting the Wespire Leopards, was enchanted and allowed her to see the ghost of their dead dog. Being licked by a ghost was a cold and unpleasant sensation, but it made Ziggy so happy and it was comforting to have the same relationship in death as they had in life.

“Gertie, what are you doing here?” Bridget asked.

“Demetrius has a new hat and I want to take a look!” Gertie passed her phone to Bridget and patted Ziggy as best she could until he calmed down. A green text message from the manager of the Enchanted Hats Emporium glowed from the screen.

“Can you afford it?” Bridget asked, seeing the price.

“I have enough from tutoring the kids in my potions class.” Gertie grinned.

Bridget walked her sister back to her room, where she dropped off her backpack with an apologetic smile at Patricia. Patricia just sniffed in annoyance at Gertie’s intrusion and turned away. She and their other roommate’s attitudes towards the Mallons and their magic was exactly why Bridget spent so much time in Gertie’s private room.

“Can we please hurry?” Gertie asked, nearly shaking in excitement. “You’re not going to believe this hat. If it does what Demetrius says it’s supposed to do it’s going to be awesome!”

The two humans and one ghost made their way to the subway station across the street from Flories Boarding School, descending into the hot halls of the Wespire subterranean transportation system.

The metal train whirred to a stop and the doors whooshed open. Everyone waited patiently as a few passengers disembarked. As soon as everyone was off, the train whistle blew. The ward keeping people from entering dropped, and everyone rushed into the subway at once.

Shoulder to shoulder with other students, Gertie and Bridget shared silent conversations in eyebrow wiggles and pointing with eyes about the lack of personal space from a boy behind Bridget, and the body odor of an jogger who had caught the train at the last minute, still breathing hard and sweating profusely farther down the car.

They got off at thirty-fourth street, along with a couple of other passengers. There wasn’t much to interest anyone on the intersection of thirty-fourth and Puckle Place, at least not on ground level.

One of the strangers hit the up elevator button and they all waited. With a ding, the elevator doors whooshed open.

The four shuffled in. Gertie pushed the “S” button at the top of the column of three buttons. One of the strangers hit the “2” and the doors slid closed.

Another ding, and the doors opened on the street level. The stranger that selected the “2” button left, pushing through the “exit” turnstile. Bridget wrinkled her nose as she smelled the stenches of the city kicked up by the pouring rain, and Gertie bit her lip at the sound of the storm.

Ziggy, however, started to wag his tail in excitement.

The doors slid closed and the elevator started dinging, a three note arpeggio of demand. A panel in the elevator wall next to the buttons slid open, revealing what looked like an opal touchpad.

Bridget was the first to pull her card from her pocket and hold it up to the touchpad. Against their father’s wishes, Gertie and Bridget’s mother had gotten them passports for the magical community. The air between Bridget’s card and the touchpad glowed, and the dings stopped, then restarted, bouncing between two notes.

The remaining stranger held her wallet up to the touchpad with her card safely inside. The dings dropped to just one tone.

Bridget released a breath. Since only those who were a part of the magical community were allowed to the top floor of this elevator (for the safety of the community), sometimes people tried to sneak up. Occasionally, just to catch glimpses of the mystical city, but there was always the risk of more sinister reasons. They would claim to have forgotten their passports and try to get the rest of the passengers in the elevator to help them out. There were security measures in place, but it was nice to not have to call on the enchantments that would forcibly remove anyone without a passport.

Gertie finally found her card tucked into the lining of her phone case and held it up. The dinging stopped.

The elevator hummed for a moment, and then started to soar skyward.

The wall behind them dropped, revealing a window for the passengers to watch the ascent. The stranger ignored the view, opting to scroll through emails on her phone, but Gertie and Bridget watched the journey with rapt attention.

The raindrops smacked against the elevator as it flew, creating an intense window-raindrop-race. The girls looked down at the heads of those unaware of the elevator - of the whole city - just above the clouds.

It was a long trip. Magic may be able to distort some things, but physics like g-force would take far too much power to overcome so often. So bubbly music chirped in the background as they waited.

The ghost of Ziggy, invisible to the stranger, sniffed at her shoes, wagged his tail, and enjoyed the view.

Finally, the elevator slowed and there was one last ding.

The doors opened and the three stepped into the center of Shipwreck Park. A fountain with statues of magicians in top hats with canes, fairies floating on waves, cats, and an array of other mystical beings stood just in front of them, with a row of trees and other carefully cultivated plants on either side. The cityscape beyond was towering, sparkling from enchantments in the sun, free from the rain below.

The stranger that had accompanied the girls in the elevator removed her long jacket, revealing two black scaly wings and a tail. She stretched and took a few steps, then flapped off into the sky, jacket and briefcase in hand.

They were back in Skyline.

Ziggy yipped and flew around the park in circles.

“Come on, come on, come on!” Gertie shouted, grabbing her sister’s arm to drag her.

They walked around the elevator which was embedded in the front half of an old pirate ship lodged in the center of the park. Kids still hunted around in it for secret cupboards full of gold and jewels or treasure maps. Even adults did, sometimes. The sails flapped lazily in the breeze. Gertie, Bridget and Ziggy walked through the park like a little parade, headed for Demetrius’ Enchanted Hat Emporium.

It took some walking, a bus, and more walking, but they managed to make it past the city-famous candy parlor without stopping and to the Emporium.

The Enchanted Hat Emporium was an older building when compared to the rest of its city block. Its brick walls had ivy climbing the sides, creating natural curtains to the high windows that flanked the single wooden door. A neon sign declaring the name of the store and its year of establishment was the only external sign of modernization.

Gertie burst in, sending the bell on the door pealing. A stuffed raven sitting in an open cage by the door shook itself to life, and flew out of the cage, cawing as it fetched someone to help the new customers. Ziggy barked in delight and zipped away after it. Raven and ghost dog swooped up to the second level of the Emporium, a ring with an open center that left the shelves visible from below.

“Thank you, Alice,” a voice said, the enchanted animal’s keywords to return to its cage. The raven flapped back, slipped inside its cage and froze again. Ziggy, however, could still be heard barking in the back of the shop.

A lanky man appeared at the railing of the second story and groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“I want the fez!” Gertie called back, holding up her phone.

“Oh, is that all?” He slid down one of the ladders and landed with a thump. Demetrius, co-owner and manager of the emporium, pulled at the bottom of his pinstriped vest and made his way to the door. “And I suppose you would like a discount?”

“Well of course I would like one,” Gertie said with a grin. “A family and friends discount maybe?”

“But you’re neither friend nor family.” Demetrius went behind the checkout desk and pulled out a small blue hatbox.

“Aw, D,” Gertie said, leaning against the desk dramatically. “You wound me.”

Bridget smiled, already familiar with the strange way that Demetrius and Gertie interacted.

“Good.” Demetrius opened the box. “A loyalty rewards discount will be applied.”

Gertie’s smile stretched like a cheshire cat’s from ear to ear. She pulled off her baseball cap and handed it to Bridget, who placed it on her own head. Gertie reached into the box and pulled out a red fez with a black tassel. She placed it on the top of her head and pulled her hands away, waiting for something to happen.

Gertie frowned and glared over at Demetrius.

“Pull the tassel to activate it,” he said. “But take a big step to your right.”

Gertie opened her mouth to ask why, and suddenly a bright blue light flashed and another Gertie appeared, a big step to her right.

“Woah,” Gertie - the old Gertie - said, dropping her jaw.

“Yeah, I know,” the new Gertie - the one who had just traveled back in time via the powers of the fez - said. “Now trade spaces with me.” She put her hands on old Gertie’s shoulders, and the two turned until old Gertie was standing where new Gertie had appeared.

“Now one sharp tug,” new Gertie said. Old Gertie reached up and tugged the tassel.

The light flashed again and she was gone.

“So,” new Gertie, who at this point was the only Gertie, said to Demetrius, “Ten seconds back in time?”

“Twelve, according to the label,” Demetrius shrugged. “A bit longer cooldown though. There’s never going to be three of you.”

“Aw, how terrible,” Bridget said, smiling despite her sarcasm. “Why only twelve?”

Gertie looked at her sister incredulously. “Do you have any idea how much power a time travel spell takes?”

“Fair enough,” Bridget accepted with a shrug.

“Here’s the one manufacturer’s warning type of thing, though.” Demetrius leaned forward onto the desk. “The spell has, among other protections, a paradox breaker.”

“What does that mean?” Gertie asked.

“If you have a future self come back in time, twelve seconds later your hat will make you travel back in time, regardless of whether or not you pull the tassel.”

“Great!” Gertie gave two thumbs up.

“But, if it does that, it can damage the hat. If that happens too many times, all you’ll have is a fez. No time travel.”

“I’ll be sure to pull the tassel then.” Gertie said, reaching for her wallet. “I need this hat.”

“Really?” Bridget asked. “It’s only twelve seconds. How much of a difference can that make?”

Demetrius reached swiftly across the desk to slap Bridget across the face. The light flashed and another new Gertie landed next to the desk and grabbed his hand, preventing her sister from getting hit.

“Demetrius!” Old Gertie shouted.

“Gertie!” Bridget said, gesturing. “Go!”

“Oh!” Old Gertie jumped toward the new one and pulled the tassel. She vanished mid-leap, traveling back in time.

“I see your point,” Bridget said wryly.

Demetrius pried Gertie’s fingers from his wrist.

“I knew you’d stop me,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“But in some timelines you slapped her?” Gertie asked, glaring.

Demetrius shrugged. “Depends on your point of view. I like to think the other timelines no longer exist.”

Bridget put a calming hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Let’s take a look around and you can check your bank account to see if you can actually buy it.”

Gertie nodded, reluctantly handing the fez back to Demetrius and taking back her baseball cap from Bridget. Bridget guided her sister out of earshot of Demetrius, losing themselves in the shelves of the Emporium.

They saw many unique hats - some in half open boxes and some in glass cases - and even more hats on display with stacks of the same boxes lined in shelves beneath them.

There were top hats - magicians’ favorites and able to hold multiple enchantments - cowboy hats - good for animal spells - fedoras, bowlers, deerstalkers, sailor hats, turbans, crowns, veils (wedding and otherwise), spectator hats, smoking caps, bicornes, tricornes, and more. Gertie admired them all and could go on for hours about the pros and cons of different enchantments on different hats, as well as other points of interest like style and history.

“I like the fez, but I can’t believe Demetrius slapped you,” Gertie said, pulling a top hat off a rack and frisbee-ed it into the air, catching it on its way down.

“He didn’t slap me, though,” Bridget said.

“He did in some timelines!”

Bridget waited for her sister to calm down. “You know what he’s like,” Bridget said. “And it’s a once in a lifetime kind of hat.”

“I know.”

“How are you going to feel when he sells it to someone else?”

Gertie groaned.

“So forget that he doesn’t think ahead sometimes and buy it ok?”

Gertie grumbled and nodded.

They heard barking, and Ziggy came speeding toward them. At least that’s what Gertie saw. Bridget could also see the little ghost of a rat, squealing and zooming past them as it was chased, thanks to her magic eye.

“Ziggy! Heel!” Bridget called, and the dog halted in mid-air, whining as he hovered just above the ground at Bridget’s side.

“Since we’re here, you should get something yourself,” Gertie said, holding up a flowery bonnet.

Bridget laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”

They returned to the check out, where Demetrius was sorting through receipts and entering information in a spreadsheet.

“I wanted to ask you something, if you’re done pouting,” Demetrius said, glancing up.

Gertie stuck her tongue out at the phrasing.

“Okay. Are you done now?” he asked.

“Yes.” Gertie crossed her arms.

“My last shelf-stacker quit to go off to college.” Demetrius folded a receipt and placed it in a box. “I was thinking, since you like hats almost as much as I do-”

“More than you do.”

“Not a chance.” Demetrius responded without looking up. “I was thinking you could start working some shifts here. I’d pay you, and maybe, once you get your apprenticeship license, I can start teaching you to enchant hats.”

Gertie’s mouth hung open, half forming words that she couldn’t put together.

For the first time ever, Bridget saw her sister unable to think of something to say. “She’d love that,” Bridget said.

Gertie nodded dumbly.

“Also, she’ll take the hat.”

Gertie pulled out her debit card and handed it to Demetrius.

He swiped the card and handed it back with the receipt, and pushed over the fez in its blue box. “Now get out of here before I change my mind. Text me the hours you’d be available.”

“Thank you,” Gertie said. She pulled the fez out and put it on her head.

***

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Gertie said, nearly skipping down the sidewalk, the hatbox under her arm.

“You mean spending your life savings on a single purchase?” Bridget said with a grin.“I believe it.”

“You’re just jealous you can’t travel through time.”

“Well, when you think about it, neither can you-”

There was a now-familiar flash, and someone grabbed Bridget out of the way of a tall, gaunt woman carrying a box of glassware.

“Gertie!” the new Gertie shouted.

“Right, sorry!” Old Gertie pulled on the fez’s tassel, disappearing.

The woman scowled at the girls, not knowing how her wine glasses had just been saved, and continued on her way.

“As I was saying,” Gertie finished. “You’re just jealous.”

Bridget smiled. “Maybe a little.”

#tales of mundane magic #gertie and bridget #Magic #magical realism #Modern Magic #urban fantasy #writing #my writing

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0xpgamedev-blog · 8 years ago

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Welcome to a new series by the illustrious 0XP, where we’ll be highlighting effective features of games I seek to emulate in my own work.

Hmmm.

Illustrious.

I never did know the exact definition of the word, hold on I’ll just go for a goggle, let’s see…

*sound effect of a tarantula getting off with a Taser on top of a pile of dominoes*

Oh no, that makes me sound rather up myself a bit doesn’t it? Okay, we’re having a do over – LIGHTS!

I never did ask him where to buy his blackout curtains.

Cheers Terry!

Welcome all to a new series by the appropriately modest 0XP, where we’ll be looking at individual elements, features, systems, decisions and features of games from throughout history and delving into why I would like to emulate them in my own projects. Think of it as a “if you like this game, you’ll probably like the game I’m making” series. Oh shit. that’s actually a better title – Terry!

I don’t pay Terry enough – or anything – he doesn’t exit.

(Was very proud of that animation, so I put it centre stage and repeated it. You know you’ve done the same in pottery class).

For the first episode of the series I thought I’d focus on something I’ve been playing with recently: pixel art!

Nope. Not belling and rings.

Yes, you couldn’t be more desperately independent than if you grew a beard and whipped out a ukulele, but I will be most probably using pixel art in my own game – at least while I’m arting them.

I’ve been a big fan of the style ever since played the gorgeous Sword & Sworcery by Capybara Studios and Superbrothers a few years ago and instantly fell in love with the lanky character models and impossibly intricate background work that could only be described as ‘pixel painting’.

╚═། . ◯ o ◯ . །═╝

The common themes in the games I’ll be talking about in this podcast are uniqueness and simplicity. Sworcery’s style combines both in its character designs, which feature quite blocky (ha, get it – sqwares!) bodies and brittle, one pixel-wide limbs and extremities, which make it looking something like a pixely Adventure Time. I’ve been trying to stem procrastination with my first foray into pixel art on the day of writing this scene, and I immediately sought to ape Sworcery’s jimmies:

I think they turned out rather well.

The next game is FEZ by the internet’s most beloved man. I have a soft spot for FEZ cos it was the first game in years that challenged me OUTSIDE the game as well as INSIDE (sadly studio PlayDead’s Inside does not have pixel art, but I like its style also), and I found the visuals charming and clear. Not to say that Mr Popular isn’t a great pixel artist, but if you look closely (in between loops of the most GIFable thing in existence) you’ll see that the world is actually made of simple patterns repeated and then touched up individually to give detail.

I like to imagine the little FEZ guy steals from behind the bar with his powers and then just sits in the third dimension by himself, drinking.

This is a more formulaic approach than Superbrothers’ seemingly painstaking process of delicately deploying each tiny coloured sqware (not to denigrate the former in any way), and one I think will be more suited a beginner in pixel drawing such as myself.

Seems like the near decade-long trend of owls everytime, everywhere extends to video games too, apparently.

Speaking of pixel drawing I think I could do but am probably a million years away from, let’s talk about a dinky little fencer by the name of Nidhogg (no relation).

If you had the chance to change your fate… WUDE YA?

And riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight (or left, depending on your orientation) at the other end of the spectrum is the game that took 8 years to make because the art’s so detailed: Owlboy.

I thought I’d end on a twist (as we once loved M. Night for: RIP(career)) with this one as, full confession: never played Owlboy, never will. From all the gameplay trailers I’ve seen, it doesn’t seem to be doing anything mechanically that I haven’t already played a thousand times over. To be quite frank, I think from a development perspective it was a case of putting the cart before the horse: focusing so much on pursuing an art style that the rest of the game suffers heavily – and no doubt the team did as well.

I know that might irk some, as often some of the greatest artistic and technological breakthroughs are achieved through dogged perseverance, but I’d argue in this case it wasn’t worth it.

Guess how long this took to make? Nope, higher. Higher. Higher. Too High! Higher…

THAT BEING SAID – it is undoubtedly stunning. I mean you could spend days just looking at the thing. The detail is insane in the membrane’s mainframe – it looks hand drawn, even though it was drawn PIXEL BY PIXEL ON A COMPUTER. Gotta respect that commitment and skill, everything else aside.

So I’m gonna make mine look as good as Owlboy, yeah? Great. Another transmission wrapped nicely – hit the credits Terry!

Terry underwent design changes between animations and is now two people that I don’t pay or exist.

You can follow my progress on here, or on my other media outlets such as Tumblr, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Any feedback is greatly appreciated as it’s early days and I would be more than happy to answer any questions.

Thank you all once again for tuning in your sets to our local station, we’ll be back again later in the week for another top up of that sweet sweet sweet one too many sweet juice. Au Goodbye!

Design Highlights #1: Pixel Art Sworcery Welcome to a new series by the illustrious 0XP, where we'll be highlighting effective features of games I seek to emulate in my own work.

#0XP #game design #gamedev #gaming #humour #indie #piskel #pixel art #programming #sworcery #technology #unity #unity2d

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