#edit hes a tux cat now

[mukuharakazui-official]

I was not given any ideas no at all-

Anyway, quick little magic anon, cat Kazui, but also mahou shoujo Kazui. Mahou Shoujo Furry Kazui.

Cause…making this man confront himself.

[ kazui is enveloped by a small puff of smoke, clearing to reveal... ]

[ ... a large, bluish-grey cat. It lets out a huff ]

mmrrrr...mrow... (i should've expected this from you lot....)

[ kazui is now a cat for....well, no time was given, really, so as long as mod wishes to subject him to their whimsy ]

[goodmode]

when is anyone going to realise that the stage performance of Cats gave mr mistoffelees white highlights to make him more readable on-stage from the audience right in the back, and actually the verse describes him as black from his ears to the tip of his tail. there's no white tips. there's no tuxedo. mistoffelees is a jet black witch cat. and he's loved by his owner because he does normal cat stuff but to humans that's magical. why would he have those anywhere else than the stage. you'd think cat people would be foaming at the mouth to make mistoffelees a Pure Black Cat but here we are and he's still being tuxedoed

(the tux was a GENIUS ICONIC move as a stage choice. i just don't personally think it translates as a good genius iconic move into any other media where you aren't required to see this character in a dark theatre from the back of West End audience seating, and where the actual lyrics are He's Black All Over And No White Is Mentioned)

EDIT: I WROTE THIS WEEKS AGO AND QUEUED IT AND NOW I LOG BACK IN AND REALISE I AM SWIGNING A BAT AT A HORNET'S NEST PLEASE DON'T BITE ME i promise all mistoffelees interpretations are good i was just cranky

[pigeon3gg]

little intro plus quick guide for the categorizing tags i use on my posts

im egg, you can see some of my info in my bio. other socials here https://pigeon-egg.carrd.co/

tags i use

"#my art" i drew this thing

"#egg talks" ONLY posts i make that dont contain art

"#ocposting" i am talking abt my ocs. either in the tags or the post itself. this also includes oc art

"#egg edits" ok these arent really edits per se but idk a better word so. edits. its for all my fandom pfps ive made (free to use no credit required)

i used to use a bunch more but i kept forgetting to use them lmao

i also tag my ocs names, i wont make a guide for that (unless someone requests that i guess) but if you ever see a post i make with an oc their name will be in the tags so you can see all content pertaining to that guy

for now thats it :) will update this post as needed

also here are my cats

the longhair tux is remy shes my sweet princess and the white and grey shorthair is kendrick (kenny) and hes my perfect son boy

[houseof-harry]

Heyy if you’re still taking requests can you do one with grayson based off of the prom episode from friends? It’s basically like gray getting ready to be her surprise date to prom because he thought her date bailed but at the last minute he showed up and she left w him. she never knew and only finally found out through watching the old home videos together & they finally get together. sorryyy this was so long if u want u can watch a clip of that eps on youtube. thank you and love your writings!!

I changed this up a tiny bit but I hope you enjoy!

A week before prom your boyfriend found it appropriate to break up with you because he wanted someone else. You had coordinated your dress with his tux, you were supposed to go with his friends, spend the night at their after prom. You had no idea what to do.

Ethan, one of your good friends, had an amazing idea. You see, Grayson had been pining over you since you were all kids. You had grown up with them because your parents were friends. You ran in different crowds at school, though. So Grayson never really felt like he had the opportunity to ask you out, too scared you wouldn’t want to date him because you and your friends really only dated the guys you were friends with (messy, but not surprising).

This was his chance, though. You had told Ethan it would be humiliating to show up alone. Especially when your ex had told you he was bringing the other girl he was into.

However, Ethan is shit at planning, and forgot to tell Grayson of this idea until the morning of prom. They were hopeful, though. Grayson even managed to go out and get a new tie to match the color of your dress. Ethan had convinced you to come to their pre prom, and that you could hang out with them and that their friends were super cool with it.

So that’s what you did. And when you got there, everyone was so nice which you were grateful for because both Ethan and Grayson were out of sight, leaving you to manage yourself around their friends group. You had even found one of their friends who had also recently been dumped and was there alone. It was nice to talk to someone who was in a similar situation to you, and you both decided that you could be each other’s dates because fuck men. You didn’t need them, right?

“E! Guess what!” You call when you finally see both of the twins exiting the house, Ethan with a camera in order to catch what he thought would be the beginning of the rest of Grayson’s life. They were both convinced you were soulmates.

“What?” He asks, the smile evident in his voice even though you couldn’t see it due to the camera blocking his face.

“Kayla and I are going together now! We decided we don’t need men to enjoy our last prom ever, if anything they’d probably ruin the fun.” You both giggle, not noticing the twins immediately stopping.

It was nice to see you smiling and laughing even though it was only this morning you were still crying about your ex. Grayson didn’t want to ruin that, he couldn’t. Your happiness was more important than anything.

Ethan turned the camera off, his shoulders slumping. He grabbed Grayson by the back of his neck, patting him. “One day.”

***

4 years later

You were roaming around your backyard, friends and family surrounding you as you celebrated your graduation from college. You were talking with your aunt when you noticed the twins walk past your gate, approaching the table with the food immediately. You excused yourself from your conversation, walking over to them.

“Look what the fucking cat dragged in,” you tease, the smile on your face making the words even lighter.

You weren’t sure they were even gonna come when you sent them the invite via facebook. They’d become YouTube stars, moved to LA after high school, and seemed to never look back. You saw them no more than twice a year when you both happened to be back in your hometown, and it would be at family dinners so everything remained pretty tame.

“Wouldn’t miss it for anything, y/n. This is big, we’re proud,” Ethan responds, his arms wrapping around your shoulders. He swayed you side to side, the happiness of being together again overwhelming the both of you. It was easy to forget how much you missed them until you got to hang out with them again.

When you pulled away, Grayson was right there, the smile on his face so familiar it made you shiver. There were a lot of things that reminded you of home, but that smile always brought about the upmost comfort.

The thing is, you had liked Grayson for just as long as he liked you. But you knew he was way too cool to pursue, and that only heightened once he went to LA. They didn’t tell you much about their dating lives when you would text and call, but you knew they weren’t virgins by any means. You just didn’t want to know what types of girls he was going after out there, because they would probably make you pale in comparison. 

The feeling of his hug pulls you from your thoughts. All of a sudden you were consumed by all things Grayson and everything felt right. The anxiety you felt about this day left you, and you were finally able to just relax. No worries about post grad situations, jobs, grad school, none of it. You just stood there and soaked it in until you knew you had been hanging onto him too long before pulling back. He only let you back away a little, though, his hands finding their place on your elbows. You let him keep you close, your gaze stuck on his.

“Hey,” he breathes out, almost like he couldn’t believe you were truly in front of him, even after all those years.

Ethan had long since become entranced in the buffet again, leaving you and Grayson to chat. “Hi.”

“How are you, how is everything? I mean you graduated so you have to be doing alright. I’m so proud, by the way, this is a really big deal. I got you something,” he rambles, reaching into his back pocket.

“Gray, I don’t need anything from you guys, you didn’t have to.” Your cheeks heat up as he pulls out an envelope, handling it to you.

“It’s time sensitive, so you gotta open it before like 8 tonight,” he chuckles, your hands bringing the envelope to your chest.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure it’s the first one I open.”

The two of you stand there smiling at each other for a moment, appreciating that you’re really back together. Grayson felt like he did all of his childhood; happy, excited, and nervous. Really nervous. He didn’t want to be the first one to speak again because he knew he wouldn’t be able to shut up again.

Before you could decide to say anything either, someone is calling your name. You turn your head to see some of your other family had just arrived. You turn back to Grayson, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“Sorry I gotta-”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Go soak up all the congratulations, you’ve earned it all.” He pats your shoulders before going to find Ethan.

The rest of the day goes as planned, everyone coming and going to say their congrats. You didn’t get to spend any more time with the twins, but they found themselves catching up with some other high school friends who had been able to come.

That night, you took a shower but reminded yourself of what Grayson told you earlier. When you got out, it was 7:30. You quickly got dressed in casual clothes, going downstairs to open the card from them.

Hey y/n,

Congrats! We’re both so proud of everything you’ve accomplished these past four years and are so excited to see where you go in the next four and beyond. We decided instead of a conventional gift, we wanted to do something a bit more personal. Come to ours at 8:30.

Love,

Grayson and Ethan,

p.s. don’t call or text asking for hints, we refuse to break

You giggle at the note at the end. You felt butterflies immediately erupt in your stomach, recognizing the handwriting as Grayson’s. You had no idea what they had in store for you, but you couldn’t wait.

By the time 8:30 rolled around, you were itching to know what was up. You were pulling down their long driveway, trying to collect yourself so you wouldn’t seem too on edge. Grayson was always really good at reading you, so you knew your efforts were fruitless but you wanted to try anyways.

Once you parked and texted them that you were there, you got out and walked to the door. Before you had even reached the welcome mat, the door swung open and Grayson with his signature smile stood there, the excitement evident in his eyes.

“Hey y/n.”

“Hey.” You have a grin to match his, his happiness fueling yours. It was impossible to be sad when he was so happy.

“Let me show you your present.” He holds his hand out to you, and you graciously accept despite the fact he will definitely be able to tell your palms were a bit clammy. You hoped he’d brush it off as the summer heat, but you both new the nerves were eating away at you slowly.

He leads you out to their backyard, where there were three chairs set up in front of what looked like a huge movie screen.

“Gray, what’s-”

“We put together a video for you. Or us, I guess. It’s just all our old stupid videos we made from growing up edited together into the story of Grayson, Ethan, and y/n.”

You stopped walking, tears immediately pricking the corners of your eyes. No one had gotten you such a personal gift. I mean, of course you appreciated all the money especially as a college grad, but this was something that would be able to last forever.

Ethan walked out past you, a big bowl of popcorn in his hands. “Ready?” He asks casually, but the grin of his face says he has other intentions. He seems more excited for this than you and Grayson.

“Yeah,” you croak out, still emotional but now excited to see what they had whipped up. You all sit in your seats, excitement radiating from them and all different emotions coming from you. This definitely wasn’t what you were expecting.

Once they start the video, you’re quickly enthralled in remembering your past, the memories from growing up with them flooding in with every new video they included. All the way from your first time trick or treating together, to the skits you would put together when your families would have dinner parties, to the days on the beach when you went away for the weekend with them. It made you feel light inside, like there was nothing to worry about again.

All of a sudden there’s a clip the starts with Grayson’s feet in his dress shoes, and it soon pans out to capture his entire outfit. The outfit he wore to your senior prom.

“Excited?” Ethan asks from behind the camera as Grayson adjusts his tie and smooths his suit.

“Terrified,” he mumbles back, his hands visibly shaking.

“Dude, she just got dumped and you get to be the hero who swoops in, saves prom, and promises to love her forever,” Ethan jokes, but there’s not even a hint of a smile from Grayson.

“I can’t come off that strong, she has no idea I love her. I just gotta act as normal as possible.” The nerves are clear in his voice as he continues to speak, checking his hair in the mirror.

“Dude, I saw her walk down the driveway like ten minutes ago, we gotta go. Got the flower thing?” Ethan asks.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Grayson says, walking out of the house in front of Ethan and the camera.

“E! Guess what?” The camera moves to show you and Kayla, smiling and giggling together.

“What?” His voice booms from right behind the microphone.

“Kayla and I are going together now! We decided we don’t need men to enjoy our last prom ever, if anything they’d probably ruin the fun.” The camera catches the two of you laughing together, almost totally ignoring the boys.

The next clip begins, but you have long stopped paying attention. Grayson loved you in high school? He was going to ask you to prom because of your shit ex trying to ruin it for you? And he never told you this whole time?

The last few videos finish and the screen goes black.

“So?” Ethan asks as soon as it’s over, his head turning to you. You sat there, mouth open, eyes on the blank screen unable to speak. “That bad, huh?”

“Huh?’ You snap out of it, looking at him. “No, it was good. Really good. Thank you, guys. This really meant a lot. It was nice to remember all the fun we had here growing up.” Your words and smile are genuine, but Grayson can tell there’s something else going on.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing, just got me emotional I think,” you mumble, looking at your lap in hopes of avoiding them asking any further questions.

“Why not just all good ones?”

Oh because you loved me and I loved you and we didn’t tell each other and now we live such different lives in such different worlds and no guy has ever compared to you but if it was impossible in high school, it’s definitely impossible now, you think to yourself.

“Just miss being that carefree sometimes, I guess,” you shrug, deciding lying is most definitely the safer bet.

“Alright, she’s not gonna tell us the truth, so let’s at least go inside to avoid the mosquitos,” Ethan quips, standing and grabbing the popcorn bowl. You go to follow him, but Grayson grabs your arm. You look down at him and can see the concern in his eyes. You sit again while Ethan leaves you two out there alone.

“What is it actually?” He asks, his gaze heavy as it holds yours captive, wanting to genuinely hear and see what you have to say.

“You were gonna ask me to prom?” You whisper, like it’s some big secret. It also feels stupid asking him that seeing as prom is just not important anymore, but this was just easier to ask than the real question you wanted an answer to.

“Of course. Your ex was an ass for what he did, would never let you go alone after that. You knew I never liked him in the first place. But, you and Kayla had a really good time together, so it all worked out in the end,” his words are meaningful, but his smile isn’t meeting his eyes. It’s clear he’s holding back.

“But you were gonna ask me because you loved me?” You raise your brow.

He coughs, turning his head to the side to avoid the eye contact he had initiated. “Uh, yeah.”

“Like really loved me or just thought I was cute because we were in high school?”

“Definitely really loved you.” He nods, rubbing his bicep. He was nervous again, unsure of how to go about this. He thought you’d think it was funny that he loved you, not question him. He’s scared you’ll ask how he feels now, and he doesn’t want to say anything that will scare you off.

“Huh,” you huff, leaning back in your chair. “I loved you, too.” His eyes widen at this. He whips his head to look at you, shock written all over his face. He expected a lot of things to come from your mouth, but not that. Definitely not that.

“You fucking what?” Is the only response he can think go saying. He went through years of loving you from afar only to find out now he could have been doing it upfront this whole time.

You laugh, turning to look at him again. “Thought it was obvious. That’s why I never did anything, thought you knew and didn’t feel the same way.”

Grayson literally sputters, at a complete loss for words. “Is this a joke?”

“Why would I be joking?” You ask genuinely. Your brows pulled together in confusion, not understanding what was so shocking about it all.

“Because it has to be a joke that I could have been loving you all these years to your face instead of hiding it but I didn't have to.” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he holds his face in frustration.

You sit in silence for a moment, his words sinking in. You couldn’t tell what he meant by that, was he still in love with you?

“It’s okay Gray. We were young and stuff.” You shrug, hoping to make him feel better. I mean obviously you still were hopelessly in love with him, but he didn’t have to know it.

He laughs almost cynically, turning to look at you. “You don’t see it, do you?” He seems almost defeated while he speaks.

“See what?”

“I’m still in love with you. Like if we had a prom right now and you got ditched again I’d go rent a whole tux and take you. I’d literally do anything for you, and would have done anything the past two decades we’ve known each other. I love you so much, everything about you. When we moved away and you went to college, it took me literally like three months to start enjoying life again without telling you about everything because you deserved the space to grow. I couldn’t be selfish and take away your college experience from you just because I loved you. But seeing you today has just, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m saying,” he sighs, catching his breath. He’s rambled in front of you from nerves many times, but this was a whole other level. Fear slowly started to sink into every bone of his body as he realized what he had admitted to you.

You sat there in complete shock, not expecting him to have said any of that. Yet, he had put it perfectly. You had always kept your feelings to yourself so as to never hold him back. Also to avoid complete rejection from the most important person in your life, but also because he deserved to live without the burden of your love.

“Gray, hey, look at me,” you mumble, reaching out to put your arm on his forearm. He lifts his head, his eyes timidly meeting yours but his muscles relaxing as soon as he felt your skin on his.

“We can act like I didn’t say all of that stuff if it’ll mean we get to keep being friends.” The anxiety drips from every single word that comes from his mouth.

“Why would we do that?” You stand, walking over to stand i front of him. His gaze follows you while he leans back in his chair. You grab both his hands and encourage him to stand with you. When he does, your bodies are close, the heat radiating off one another.

“Because I’d rather be friends with you and act like I don’t love you than not be in your life at all.” His voice was so vulnerable and you don’t think you've ever heard him so shy in his life. He usually oozed confidence, never faltering. Now, all he seemed to be doing is question every word he’s saying.

“But what if we could be more than friends?” You ask, biting your lip and looking at him.

His face reflects his surprise as he sucks in a quick breath. Before he has the chance to ramble again, you lean in to leave a light kiss against his lips. It’s quick and Grayson almost wonders if he’s dreaming. It’s the moment he’s thought about since he was 10, and it was over before he could truly enjoy it.

He scans your face, making sure he doesn’t see any regret forming before he grabs your hips and pulls you in for a real kiss. His lips are slow and sensual on yours, cherishing every moment you let him continue to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you.

All of a sudden you hear someone screaming from the window above you guys. You both pull away, looking up to see Ethan beaming down at you both. “And to think it only took me, like, 15 years to get this to happen!”

You all laugh, soaking up the relief and happiness of the moment. Although it took so long, you’re sure you and Grayson will appreciate every moment together going forward.

[unmanageable-day]

An epilogue (2)

You were living your new life, with your 'partner', far from the city. And surprisingly, you were adjusting very well.

Previously on No Longer

previous part

"Let's take a walk after this."

You nodded, not even bothering to ask where.

You had been letting him decide anything and pretty much everything in your new life as his living partner. Even you still found it odd to call yourself his spouse. His ...wife. You remembered exactly how simple and modest your wedding ceremony was. Your wedding ring was Doyoung's mother's second favorite ring with a little blue sapphire (the number one favorite was already given to his brother's wife). Your wedding dress was secondhand from your mother. Doyoung also didn't get a new tux, as he already had 2 or 3 set that barely came out of his closet. The guests coming to your wedding were less than 100, as you and Doyoung requested.

Two days after your D-day, you flew to Jeju. And now there you were. Doyoung ran his dream coffee shop, just like he told you back then—which you thought he was never serious. Yet it turned out he'd planned everything carefully. Alongside with the cafe, he started to expand his business to tourism. He also got you a freelance job to help with writing content for the tour destination, tour package and stuff. He found a local kindegarten as well for you to spend your time with kids teaching this and that. He knew you pretty well that you can't stand doing nothing at home. Although those jobs weren't as fancy as your previous job, you still appreciated Doyoung for giving you the chances. For not making you a total homemaker. For still giving you another meaningful life, and a more balanced work-life condition.

Life was pretty good when it wasn't running fast.

You changed into a beige sleeveless sundress while waiting for Doyoung taking a bath. You styled your hair into a high ponytail. He went out with outfit matching yours. "You ready?"

You nodded as you applied your tinted lipbalm. You walked first to the front door to get your sandals. You were showing him your back while still selecting which sandals to use. Suddenly a pair of arms was looping around your waist and belly from your back. "Doyoung?"

His hands reached yours. He carefully put a ring on one of your fingers, and said, "Happy anniversary."

You stared at the new ring with dreamy eyes. "What is this?"

"I didn't get to give you a real wedding ring," he shyly said as he tightened his embrace. "I was thinking to do this romantically, like by the sea maybe, or that cafe in a tangerine field. But I concluded that home is the perfect place."

"You don't have to," you quietly muttered. "I have received so much from you." It was hard for you to smile as usual. You knew how selfless he is and how he always prioritize you and your happiness. Sometimes you felt bad for not treating him like how he deserves. You didn't even know yourself if you've done enough to make him happy.

"But I want to." He reached your hands again to see the new ring on your finger. "The ring my mom gave you is a symbol that you are accepted and now a part of our family. And this ring is a thank you gift, for choosing me, for letting me to be a part of your life, for being here with me. I'm so grateful I don't how to describe it with words."

You twirled slowly to face him but his arms were still around your body. Your hands gripped onto his clothes on the waist. You encouraged yourself to look at him in the eyes. There. That loving eyes focusing on you, as if you were the only thing to see. The big grin on his pretty face that wouldn't lie about how his feelings. "Doyoung, I..." you abruptly paused. I don't deserve all of these. I don't even...

Cat got your tongue. It looked like you still had a heart not to say the L word with a negation.

"Jena. It's kinda weird for me to ask this, but.." Doyoung groggily rubbed the back of his neck. "How do you feel? What do you think of living with me here?"

Your brain worked very hard to arrange good, kind words. You forced a little smile before answering him.

"Are you happy with me?"

"Doyoung, you give me everything, more than I could ask for," you almost whispered. You brought your hands to carress Doyoung's cheeks. "I don't think I would have any reason to be not happy."

Doyoung found himself chuckling in every breath he took and at the same time he got his eyes a bit teary. He gently pulled you closer to his embrace, then buried his face on your shoulder. You hugged him back by the waist and rest your chin on his broad shoulder.

Your fruity, citrus lemony fragrant penetrated his nose. "You smell like my favorite hand cream," he mumbled as he sniffed you.

You could feel the tickles from his lips and his nose brushing against your bare shoulder. "You bought me this perfume. You said it was limited edition." He loosened his grip and faced you again. "Because you are limited edition." He pursed his lips, feeling grossed and cringed from his own words. "Wait. I shall correct that."

You tilted your head in question. Some of your hair strands were tucked behind your ears by his gentle gestures.

"You're not a limited edition. There is only one Jena, and I am very lucky to have her," he confidently stated as he showed you his big smile. Then he planted a soft kiss on your forehead before he finally let go of you. "Come on, let's go. Or else, we'll really stay at home all day long."

[augusts-random-writing]

Stars are Created Every 0.0002 Second-Chapter 1

Hi! this is chapter 1 one of my celebrity!AU. srry if this is bad. Thanks to @that-smol-tired-gay for editing this who totally isn’t putting this in themselves while editing shhhhh 

Trigger warnings(pls tell me if i missed any): cursing, mentions of sexualization, aphobia, enbyphobia, internalized aphobia and enbyphobia, crying, panic attackish, coming out, caps lock, yelling, love confession(?), sympathetic deceit (Dolios), anger/revenge?

pairings: one sided roceit, platonic roceit, analogical mention

Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. That’s what my life has become. When I became famous, I didn’t know that stopping, posing, and smiling would what I mostly do. That and being oversexualized. I have to fight just to get a break or just to write what I want for songs or just to say what I want to say. It’s exhausting, I wish I never became famous. But before I could quit, I meet my friends:

Virgil Savage, a famous author that writes whatever he feels like. But, he mainly writes horror, mystery, and romance. One look at him and you can tell that he listens to My Chemical Romance (but don’t we all). Tonight he is sporting a black and purple tux with someone on his arm. 

And that someone is none other than Logan Flores-Martìnez, an actor, screenwriter, and director. His most popular works are usually when he adapts Virgil’s work the big screen (and that's how the two of them meet). On a typical day, he wears a polo shirt with a tie. Tonight, he is wearing a dark blue and black tux matching his boyfriend. Honestly, they look like a high-class goth couple. 

Next to them is someone who doesn’t really fit the whole theme but at the same time does is Dolios Carter. He is wearing a yellow dress with black flowers. He is a youtuber and he usually makes conspiracy theories, random theories, make up, let’s plays, and other similar things. He usually wears some kind of flower/snake print thing with black or yellow. 

Someone who definitely fits in with everything is Patton Anand, who is wearing a black suit that has light blue flowers on it. He is also a youtuber; he usually does arts & crafts, baking, cooking, and sometimes let’s plays. His usual wear is black with a few bright accents. Basically the opposite of Dolios. 

Me? Well, I’m in a velvet red suit. That’s it. Nothing special. Yet, I still get the most attention. All of my other friends have so many things going on and I have nothing. Like, Virgil is in the middle of writing a new book, him and Logan are getting fucking married soon, Patton is going to be acting in a new movie, Dolios is writing a book too. But no, I’m the one they talk about, take pictures of, ask questions. Like the fuck? Honestly, I just want to be home. I just finished my tour, I’m exhausted and I miss my cats. And my reptiles. And cake. I miss them and my hoodies. I just wanna--

“Roman!” I turn, looking for whoever called me. I turn and come face-to-face with Dolios.

“Hey, Dolios. Whatcha doing?”

“I need to talk to you.” Uh oh. That’s never, especially since he looks so serious. 

“Okay, where do you want to go?” I say as we pose for another picture. Dolios seems a little tense and keeps fidgeting. I am getting nervous, why does he want to talk to me? Did I do something? Is he mad at me? 

“Roman?” I heard Dolios say. Of course, I should have said “yes,” but my dumbass didn’t. I just fucking stared at him. Like. A. Dumbass. “Roman? Anybody in there? Hello?” Dolios said as he waved his hand in front of my face.

“Hmm?” I respond. WHY ROMAN? JUST FUCKING ANSWER HIM WITH WORDS!

“Can we go somewhere more private?” He looks around like he’s about to get attacked. 

“Uh okay.” I answered, not really liking where this was going. Like, what is he gonna do? And why the fuck is he being so suspicous of it? 

Dolios takes us into a private room, where people usually…………..um…………………get kinky. We go in and sit on one of the velvet couches, that we hope are clean. We sit there awkwardly, as one does. 

“So, I need to tell you that….” Dolios started, basically wincing, “...that I’m in love with you.” Oh no. Not this. 

“I…...can’t De, I’m so sorry. Maybe if I wasn’t broken.” I say, trying not to cry. I wish I wasn’t so broken. I wish I could be normal but I’m not.

“What do you mean? You’re not broken.” 

Just like that, I broke down. 

“You don’t understand! I’m asexual and aromantic! I’M BROKEN, A MONSTER! I JUST WANT ATTENTION, I’M NOT VALID!” why can’t he get into that thick head of his!? I’m broken. “I mean, I know I should be proud of myself, but I just can’t. And I’m- I’m non-binary. It makes sense, right? I never felt fully comfortable being called male, but didn’t know why. Who am I kidding right? I’m just a special snowflake, right? RIGHT?” Dolios moved closer and started hugging me. 

“Its okay, its okay. You gonna be okay. You are valid and I platonically love you for being so strong. Even when people told you were invalid, you stayed strong. I love you for that. But you don’t have to care that weight alone anyway, okay?”

“Okay,” he just really just sat through my sob story, and now I’m basically in his lap calming down from a breakdown. But, it still doesn’t really help. Everyone tells me one thing, that I’m invalid, and he just comes along to say otherwise?! No one does that! He must be lying.

“I’m not lying Roman.” I said that out loud. Of course. “What are your preferred pronouns and do you have a different name?” 

“My pronou- My pronouns are they/them. I don’t- I don’t want to change my name.”

“Okay, why don’t you calm down some more and we can go back out, okay?” Not wanting to say anything, I just nodded. 

“Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

Dolios’ face darkened, “I won’t, I promise.”

We stayed there until I calmed down enough and we went out to the party. However, Dolios looked upset or just off once we left. I brushed it off though, we had bigger things to worry about; and that was the press.

++++++

When my fans first talked about how I always dragged society, I joked along with them. It was a funny, harmless. off-handed joke.

But now, it’s not. Society crushed my best friend. Again and again and again, with no mercy. Now, this is war. And I’m not playing by society's rules.

Taglist:(if you want to be added, please send an asks to this blog)

@datfearlessfangirl 

[thedesperatehousehusband]

Oscar. 92 years young.

It’s time for the BIG ONE. The one we’ve been waiting for all season. The Academy Awards. The 92nd Oscars. The whole awards “season” culminates with tis slog of a night. Let’s see how this works without a host. It’s the second time they’ve done it and I didn’t hate it last year.

The show kicked off with a performance from Janelle Monae singing about “It’s Time to Come Alive”. I don’t know what the song was about it but I love her and her queer, African American self. Billy Porter made an appearance. He’s been strutting it allllll these shows. He looked batshit at the Grammy’s but tonight he looks normal, for him.

Steve Martin and Chris Rock DID NOT CARE. When people don’t give a shit, I love it. The Director category is missing vaginas. There were no black nominees in 1929. There’s one in 2020. Progress. Good shit. Eddie Murphy’s under the stage. Oooooh. They DO NOT CARE.

Regina King is butter. She looks amazing. Of course and as expected, Brad Pitt wins Best Supporting Actor for Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. He’s won 100% of all the awards all season so this is the icing on the cake. Nice speech. I love him. I love this movie.

I love Mindy Kaling’s dress. She looks outstanding. Of course and as expected, Toy Story 4 wins Best Animated Feature. It really was incredible. Buzz & Woody are legends and now we can include Forky in that list of animated legends.

Josh Gad…..Idina Menzel. Pronounced just like it’s spelled. Take that, John Dumb-Ass Travolta. And that was kick ass. I totally loved the international take on Into the Unknown from Frozen 2.

Why, Diane Keaton, why? Isn’t it done with the whole Annie Hall thing? But the banter with Keanu Reeves was really quite funny. HOLY SHIT BALLS!!! Parasite wins Best Original Screenplay. Is this a sign of things to come?? I REALLY thought Once Upon a Time in Hollywood was going to clean up tonight. But maybe not. Is it going to be a Parasite night??????

What is Timothee Chalamet wearing? Is that a tracksuit? At the Oscars? Dude. What are you doing? I know you’re all fashion-y and shit but I’m not into it. Taika Waititi wins for Best Adapted Screenplay for Jojo Rabbit. A movie which I simply loved and adored. It made me laugh and cry.

Maya Rudolph and Kristen Wiig decided to go with the craziest thing they could find at the store. At least they’re funny. Because they look nuts. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood wins for Production Design. And that makes sense to me. It really looked amazing.

Loved the a cappella medley of clothes songs for Maya and Kristen to sing in advance of Best Costumes. Little Women wins. At least it won something because that’s likely going to be it. Normally the winner looks out of his/her mind when they walk on the stage. This woman looked downright sane.

What is this song that Chrissy Metz is singing? I have no idea what it is but she sounds really good.

I would like to thank Mark Ruffalo for just wearing a goddamn tux and looking fucking fantastic in it.

I absolutely hate Laura Dern’s dress but I love me some Laura Dern. She’s cleaned up all season so cap it off with the Oscar, why don’t ya? Of course and as expected. I don’t know why but it makes me teary-eyed EVERY time Laura Dern thanks Diane Ladd and Bruce Dern. I just love it that she thanks her parents and references them as her acting inspiration each time she collects an award.

Ummmmm. What is HAPPENING?? Eminem didn’t show when we WON the damn Oscar for writing this song but he gon show up for a fucking montage??? What is HAPPENING???? I love this. Every fucking thing on the stage right now is unbelievable. THE AUDIENCE IS STANDING UP. THE ENTIRE AUDIENCE INCLUDING MARTIN SCORSESE IS STANDING UP. Eminem, motherfuckers.

Sound Editing goes to Ford vs. Ferrari. I’m unclear on what sound editing is.

Sound Mixing goes to 1917. I’m unclear on what sound mixing is.

Jesus Christ. Randy Newman is starting to look really fucking old. He still sounds like Randy Newman though, so I guess that’s good.

Thank you for Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Will Ferrell for making some jokes. 1917 wins Best Cinematography. I’m going to remind you how little I care about 1917. In my shallow and small mind, it’s just basically Saving Private Ryan in World War I. That’s probably over-simplified but that’s what I get from previews.

Best Editing goes to Ford vs. Ferrari. I can dig it with all the car scenes. Thank GAWD it didn’t go to The Irishman. Because that movie wasn’t edited because it was 400 hours long. It was TOO fucking much.

Zazie Beetz looks AMAZING. Her dress is killer.

Cynthia Erivo is an amazing singer. She’s not going to win Best Actress so her only chance at the EGOT is Best Original Song. I’m not particularly feeling this song but strange things have happened.

Rebel Wilson and James Corden dressed up as cats from Cats. They don’t care. 1917 wins Best Visual Effects. Who cares?

I love that Ray Romana got bleeped. I do love when people get bleeped. Bombshell wins for Hair & Makeup. Which makes sense. John Lithgow isn’t exactly an overly attractive person but making him look like Roger Ailes, who is more or less the earthly embodiment of Jabba the Hutt, is worthy of an award.

Why is it now Best International Feature Film as opposed to Foreign Language Film? Of course and as expected, Parasite wins Best International Feature Film or Foreign Language Film. I guess that Bong Joon-Ho really likes the name change and what it symbolizes.

I know this is terribly un-LGBTQ of me but I just don’t care about Elton John and this song isn’t good.

Ummmmmm. Sigourney Weaver looks INCREDIBLE. If she’s had work done, it’s both discrete and expensive. It’s a testament when you stand next to people like Brie Larson and Gal Gadot and hold your own at nearly 70. Get it done, Sigourney.

Love this Icelandic woman winning Best Score for Joker. Love, love, love, love. There’s more than Bjork in Iceland. Great speech.

Elton John wins for Best Original Song and I don’t care.

OH SNAP. Bong Joon Ho wins Best Director for Parasite. Y’all, it’s looking good for Parasite. Solid, solid speech as delivered by this translator who DID NOT step it up for the Oscars. Still just a smart suit. I was hoping for more, girl.

I want so hard to get Billie Eilish. And I just don’t. But I always enjoy the In Memoriam. Kirk Douglas, 103 years old.

Olivia Colman must have got a deal on all that velvet. Ooooof. But, dammit, she’s hilarious. Of course and as expected, Joaquin Phoenix wins for Joker. He’s not right. His speech was insane. Art imitates life……

Of course and as expected, Renee Zellweger wins Best Actress for Judy. This Texas accent has been present this whole awards season. I don’t get it and I don’t know why. Her speech isn’t meaningful at all. It’s just names. Blah. Well, now, we’re trying to make it meaningful but I’m not sure it’s working.

Let’s stand up for Jane Fonda, shall we? She’s a fucking movie star. She looks REMARKABLE. Don’t get me wrong. She’s 81 years old and has been sliced and diced every which way but loose but still….she looks bananas amazing. Best Picture, y’all. What’s it gonna be???? The anticipation is palpable!!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnddddddddddddddd the Oscar goes to: PARASITE!!!! I mean at this point it’s no surprise. First non-English movie ever to win Best Picture. I’m into it. I love it. The speeches are wonderful. I loved that Tom Hanks and Charlize were all like…Bring the light back up. Let them speak!

Peace out, Oscars. It’s time for bed.

[starburstonlayaway]

for @elizabroadwaytrash and i

Current word count :

40,813

Basic summary:

Tyler and Ethan’s family goes through a lot of changes following their marriage. They lose people, take others in, and new journeys are ventured on every day, no matter how scary or exciting.

Title? WIP? Alternate titles?

“Leave a Message.”

Yes, it is a work-in-progress.

I don’t believe we had any alternative titles, and if we did, I do not recall them.

Favorite character and how they are introduced:

Tyler. He’s introduced at the beginning of the first chapter, seen before anyone else.

Favorite ship:

Rose/Victor! I haven’t gotten to writing their relationship and build-up, but from our plans and how we’ve designed Victor’s character to be, I’m excited.

MC’s biggest mistake:

Rose is probably more of an MC than the others, despite it being a Tyler/Ethan fanfic.

Her biggest mistake was probably refusing to give up on Carter. While he was her boyfriend, his actions toward her (and later, Jazzy) were unacceptable after she came out to him. She isn’t to blame at all, but it’s definitely the thing she regrets most.

Inspiration:

A webcomic on Webtoon called “Always Human.” The comic explores the events happening to the girls Sunati and Austen throughout the course of their relationship. Beautiful art, realistic problems (despite being set in a futuristic utopian society), representation, and well-written romance. I wanted to incorporate these factors into LaM to make it similar to a story I enjoyed very much that left an influence on me.

Underrated character appreciation:

Jazzy! Rose’s best friend. Even in the separate story where she’s one of the main set of characters, she’s still very overlooked. She’s very upbeat and friendly, with lots of knowledge on wlw pop culture and history!

A few favorite dialogues:

“I’m ready, but we’re not in a rush or anything.” “Of course we’re in a rush, you slut! The sooner you guys get married, the sooner you have kids, and the sooner I’m an uncle!“ “Aren’t you occupied enough as it is? If you’re so involved in the idea of having a family, then why haven’t you and Jack had any kids of your own yet?“ “Don’t roast us like this.”

(spoken angrily) “Hey, Mister, that’s my soup!”

“That’s Amy! She’s probably Chica and Henry’s favorite out of all of us, but WE SHOULD REALLY SHARE CUSTODY OF HENRY.”

“Uh, I like to read, mostly, but watching older cartoons is also fun.” “Ooh. What cartoons do you like?” “My current favorite is Adventure Time!” “Adventure Time is considered an older cartoon now?” “Guess so.” “Damn, we’re getting old.” “We’re already old, dude.” “Thanks I feel worse.”

“What kind of cancer is it again?” “Leukemia.” “The survival chances of that aren’t terrible.” “Wow. Thanks.”

“You punched Jazzy?! You fucking punched Jazzy?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why would you punch someone for standing up to you when you were the one being a dick?!” “She wouldn’t get out of my face—” “I don’t wanna hear that bullshit! Carter, you can hurt me all you fucking want and I won’t care, but you’ve crossed the fucking line. Jazzy is the only person that’s been nice to me all year. She’s supported me and loved me no matter what, something you never fucking did!” “What the hell are you—” “We’re done, Carter! I never want to see your ugly transphobic douchebag ass again!”

MC moodboard:

N/A

MC’s fondest memory:

Probably when she was adopted. It was the most exciting day of her life, and lead down a journey of self-discovery.

In close second is the day she became friends with Jazzy. She was there for her when she needed her most.

Songs that remind of LaM or the characters:

“What About Us” by P!nk, probably definitely because it’s the song I used for Tyler and Ethan’s first dance.

“Leave a Message” by gnash, the song I named the book after! This one doesn’t need much of an explanation.

“Party Tattoos” by dodie. I plan to use this song in the closing chapter, sung by Rose.

Enjoy torturing the characters?

Not really, but I do it anyway. Good for character development, which there’s a lot of. But I don’t enjoy it, no. I love the characters in this book like my cat and dogs: with all my heart.

MC’s biggest fear:

Being unaccepted. This fear makes itself evident after what happens with Carter. Her mother’s reaction enforces this more.

Goals:

To finish LaM by the end of sophomore year, editing and all.

To be proud of the finished product.

To use this book as a reminder that I can do it. I can write.

Characters’ secret talents:

Ethan, despite not playing for many, many years, still excels at playing the ukulele. This becomes not so much of a secret later on in the book.

Rose is surprisingly good at tic-tac-toe. Not necessarily a talent, but definitely something she’d want you to note.

Turned into a media? Cast?

Seeing as LaM is a piece of fanwork, I don’t believe I would turn it into a media.

If it was to be a media, however, along with Tyler Scheid and Ethan Nestor to play Tyler and Ethan, as well as Mark Fischbach, Amy Nelson, and Kathryn Knutsen to play their friends, a few choices I would make would be to cast Janet Mock as adult Rose Scheid and Elliot Fletcher as adult Adrian Garcia.

MC’s basic morals and general beliefs:

Rose’s number one moral is to never make someone feel shut out. Having been rejected (as well as accepted) many times in her life, she knows that she never wants anyone to feel like that, and makes an effort to be the reason.

How MC found out the tooth fairy doesn’t exist:

She never really believed in it, to begin with.

Best name:

Jasmine “Jazzy” Hinojosa-Mills.

Least favorite OC:

Carter. Abusive transphobic asshat that left Rose with lots of insecurities and trauma for years to come.

Snippet:

Mark really had gone all out with making the altar just like Tyler had wanted it to look. The arch was made out of ebony wood that had been painted white with golden accents. Flowery vines were twirled all around the wood, the flowers colors of black, grey, purple, and blue. The chairs surrounding the aisle were all made of the same wood as the arch, the cushions blue and grey. Both Ethan and Tyler’s family alike filled those chairs, chattering away with one another. Tyler quickly scanned the side filled with Ethan’s relatives, and wasn’t surprised to see Ethan’s aunt and uncle were not present. He hoped to god that Ethan wouldn’t notice. The guests quieted down and turned their heads to look at Tyler, and he felt put on the spot. Most of the guests smiled at him, others clapped quietly. He could see that two people in particular were both smiling and clapping. Seeing Jack and Kathryn so supportive of him was majorly comforting to Tyler. He exhaled, and glanced at Mark behind him. Mark was already smiling, and nudged his head towards the arch. Tyler walked down the aisle and received praise from just about everyone sat in chairs. He high-fived Jack on his way to his place next to the officiant. The lady smiled at him, and he returned the gesture. She opened her book as Mark took his place next to Tyler, gazing over his friend’s tux and wiping off some dust quickly. Mark gave Tyler a thumbs-up, and Tyler couldn’t stop smiling. Now that he was actually out in front of the guests and standing where he was meant to be, his nerves relaxed. In fact, every thought he’d ever had in doubt of this marriage before that moment vanished, as soon as Ethan walked out.

WIP representation:

LGBT

Tyler/Ethan

Rose is trans

Jazzy is pansexual with two moms

Adrian is trans with two moms

Marcus has two dads

POC

Rose and her mother are black

Adrian and his mama are Mexican

Disabilities

Marcus has leukemia (cancer of the white blood cells)

Standalone or part of a series?

Standalone. Although I suppose you could call it a spinoff of one of our other works, the reader does not need to read that series to understand this story.

Biggest character development:

Definitely Rose. Seeing as the story follows the changes through most of her life, there’s a big difference in her character comparing the first chapter she is introduced to the closing chapter, where she takes center stage.

People who know of the WIP:

My co-writer, Caroline. Though I’ve done most of the writing, Caroline and I brought the idea for this story to life together, creating a unique cast of characters such as Jazzy, Rose, Adrian, Marcus, their families, Victor, Rose’s mother Aaliyah, and Ethan’s uncle Zane. Without her, the story would not have been written in the first place.

The lovely readers on AO3. I’ve uploaded chapters of the WIP onto there, updating at least once a month. It feels good to be putting some of my work out there for other people instead of just keeping such a joy all to myself. Of course, this is just a personal opinion.

Characters’ annoying habits:

Jazzy’s very short-tempered. Make one wrong move, anyone could get shouted at, lectured, maybe even a blow to the face.

Marcus feels a lot of self-pity and spite. He wishes his parents wouldn’t baby him so much just because he has cancer. This, later on, leads to him participating in multiple illegal activities to antagonize them.

Adrian grows to be more selfish as he gets older, even going out of his way to go into the military and disappear from Rose’s life out of the blue one day without telling her. He later regrets this.

Rose has plenty of autophobia to go around. After her mother gave her up to the orphanage at a young age and Carter’s abuse towards her in her late middle school years, followed by Adrian’s sudden leave after high school, she always fears being alone or abandoned by the people she cares about.

Tyler and Ethan both never seem to recover from the grief of their first child’s loss. This makes them closed off to people who ask about the incident, and could sometimes bring them back to their depressive state.

Very last three lines (with context):

“Unsure was she on how to approach this. She’d felt it since that first night she met him, but it’d grown more and more out of hand since. They’d also became closer as friends, even now sometimes hanging out without the needed assistance of Marcus and Jazzy by their sides to ease the tension.”

Context: Rose had just come to the conclusion she had a crush on Adrian.

Characters: Based off IRL people(through looks, personality, or habits)?

Tyler, Ethan, Amy, Kathryn, Mark, Jack, Chica, Henry, and all of the parents in the story are based off IRL influencers. The characters have only been switched and changed a bit, as well as the relationships, of course, to fit the story.

Impossible friendship:

Carter and Jazzy. Don’t really need to explain it if you’ve read the work. They hate each other’s guts more than anyone, and they could never kiss and make up. As characters, they aren’t the types to do that at all, especially with each other.

Am I proud?

Yes. Leave a Message has been my most dedicated piece of work so far, and I’d say I’m well on my way to reaching my personally-set deadline next year if I keep it at the rate I’m going. Not to mention the characters and plotlines are exciting and realistic, in my own opinion. There’s still a lot left to be written, but I’ve got everything planned out. I don’t plan on stopping until I’m finished with it.

[redantsunderneath]

Marlene Dietrich/Josef von Sternberg marathon: The Blue Angel, Morocco (1930), Dishonored, and Shanghai Express (1931)

I watched all of these films, the Blue Angel in German (which surprisingly didn’t hurt, though I might have missed some puns), so I could be prepped for the great movie podcast “There’s Sometimes a Buggy” that is covering the collaboration that made Marlene Deitrich as we know her. I don’t have a lot of exposure (more on my movie history later) to the early talkie years so these movies were a bit surprising to me on a lot of fronts, not the least reason for which was that I wasn’t brought up in rape culture, I guess (is this what people mean when they say that? cause, jeesh! every movie, the threat is just there). Funny enough, I felt that The Blue Angel was the only one that was really political to me along axes that felt vital, which is peculiar as the other three were about political conflict of factions/nations and make statements about war, nationalism, and the other, but I guess they don’t seem political in a sense that fits with current discourse. I didn’t see the CPC officer in Shanghai Express as pro communist but as a tentative stab at ambivalent nuance of the other’s perspective, a tipping of the hand that there’s a western-centracism in his absurd rape code (this is a common feature through the films of a “first claim” that a certain type of man has on a woman that has nothing to do with what she wants), and as ultimately an example of the brutality of violent conflict (more pointed because he’s been fleshed out).  But I admit, by the films' equalizing the other side (the Russians, the CPC and even the Tunisian rebels if only by making the French Foreign Legion look so terrible) that is in itself a statement.  Kubrick’s Paths of Glory seems to pick up where this leaves off.

The Blue Angel is the film I have the most to say about, and was the most interesting conceptually, but was hard to sync with for technical reasons (me not speaking German maybe being one of them).  Through the films, we watch Dietrich get better at being a talkie actress and the Blue Angel doesn’t push her that hard, but this may be more a function of the camerawork and editing than anything else.  Jannings somehow works better with her as a leading man than anyone but Dishonored’s McLaglen because he can fill the space created by her silent movie style of encapsulated performative moments then stasis/posing, though the let it breathe editing doesn’t help (I almost think her hand on ribcage pose starts as a need for her to have something to do when reacting that seems like a reaction).  Morocco’s Gary Cooper sometimes seems like he’s in a different space than her and Shanghai’s Brook is super clipped (though she’s better adapted by then).

In Blue Angel, the effort to create composite Mise-en-scène with the ominous foreground frames is terrific (those anchors hanging down! the professor’s approach to the club!) and we have some of that German expressionist inner state stuff going on, especially at the end (the shadow of the chandelier!) but the cameraman doesn’t seem to know where to be and maybe that explains the ostensibly crappy blocking.  The cinematography on the others is much better – the superimposed tracking shots in Morocco are phenomenal – and have just as many knockout myth buildingly shot scenes (too many to mention but her in a tux in Morocco,  the final escape in Dishonored, the prayer in Shanghai Express).  All the movies have enough differences in approach that you could think they were done by a different team (were the external shots in Morocco the ones shot by Peckinpah’s eventual AD, Lucien Ballard?).

There are all sorts of motifs running through the films: clocks (and calendars), racially insensitive dolls, men’s hats on women, skein-like drapes sometimes burned by irons vs drawn opaque shades, a man eavesdropping to get mood altering information from behind a louvered door, clowns/harlequins, throwing stuff that will need to be cleaned up on the floor/wall, makeup application in a number of functions (e.g. highlighting her performative nature, emasculation of men), sitting/sprawling on things as an act of feminine claiming of the space, guttural and animal noises as announcement we’re in a libidinal space positive or negative, the stockings, the kept animals, and all sorts of recurring human archetypes.   But it’s The Blue Angel, with its full bore usage of these things plus more (eggs, nautical detritus, clock figurines, etc, that the subliminal story is the most present (though Dishonored is pretty potent).

The reason why I say Blue Angel is the most socio-political is that as a 2019 person on the internet who sees the culture war, is aware of the history of Weimar imagery as handled post Nazi, and knows what’s coming (spoilers for Hitler), the statement being made looks really complicated with a first pass of: the intelligencia’s embrace of the subaltern as primarily an instrument-possession both losses them cultural power and leaves them outside of the outgroup too, which is how, maybe, regressive populism (the students as rabble) wins. Granted this is an Iser-type hermeneutical hot take and it is complicated by the possibility that Jannings codes as pre-Hitler German populace’s growing conflation of left wing and Jewish as “dark other” (problematic, hard to bring the 1930 and 2019 horizons together on this, mileage may vary, but a case can be made) which would almost make this an anti-radical (on both sides) statement that meshes with the other movies’ anti-violence, anti group/idea allegiance, pro-people take. This is just the "bad decision" version. As for Jannings, the lumpen here is fine with him as long as he performs correctly.  Maybe this is an artifact of Dietrich not being the protagonist by a director who wants her to be.  The thing that really overlays this from a now standpoint, though, is the rhyming with a kind of 4chan framing where he has lost his ���rightful” power, is “cucked,” and has an entitled-male rage tm (i.e. this can be read as an anti incel-ideology movie). The other movies don’t have this kind of congruence for the most part.

But the way the symbols work is pretty neat.  His descent from prominent social capital to internationally renowned cock-a-doodle-do jester is marked by the change in the relationship with eggs as sexual enticement vs humiliation (and the humiliation was there from the beginning to be sure).  The clown is there as a warning/future self.  The special clocks that eerily suggests his/society’s demons are coming and no one can stop the forward mechanism of time. The caged bird is as you would expect.  The dolls are a sort of self possession that she does test runs giving away.  There’s too much to talk about.

Morocco has Cooper’s charisma going for it (which works best with Dietrich’s when they cut back and forth), the best non-closeup camerawork (the exteriors are great), large scale staging, and that cool woman in a tux mythmaking performance piece.  It contains Cooper’s great non-verbal performance in the scene where he eventually writes “changed my mind” on the mirror (you can see him decide).   The last scene of her trudging across the desert and throwing away her heals is great, and there is so much motion in the frame so often – the superimposition of movement that turns a dissolve into a long transitional double shot, the scene where she looks for him in the marching parade, etc. The relief map was hinky, though.  

Dishonored was my favorite of the four. I liked all these films but, broken down, it had a couple of “bests” in it, but was #2 for everything else.  It had the best-functioning male lead (the always in a mask non-naturalistic thing was perfect as that how she is and it balanced the space well) and a greater share of my very favorite scenes: the final escape scene, the party, the firing squad, and any any fucking piano playing (the first shot of her playing piano is my favorite shot of all the films).  It’s the second best as a subliminal story (after Blue Angel), was the only one other than Shanghai Express that seemed like it had a screenplay - a story story rather than a loose idea, the idea of certain shots, the actors types, and dialogue. It had the most convincing sweep other than Morocco. The cat was a nice setting free of agency, progressing the doll as totem of self/other possession but with a mind of its own, with the power to ruin everything.  This movie really vibed with me perfectly.  

For Shanghai Express, see above, but I have to say I love the Disney villainess (before there were Disney villainesses) dress.  The multi note secondary characters with actual performances and arcs was unique... the pastor who changes his mind on what is morally good is terrific, as are the exchanges between two fully fleshed out prostitutes and an old prude.  My list is close, but If I had to order it would be Dishonored, Blue Angel, Shanghai, then Morocco, but it’s tough because the great things about each vary so much (I kept dithering on the bottom three more than #1, I considered putting Morocco 2nd).

It’s odd I’ve written this much and I haven’t broached the gender archetype pushing and pulling here, mainly because this seems pretty well mined territory.  I’m under-read on this and feel like my take would be super cold -- cross dressing, Gary Cooper with a flower behind his ear, the unflinching depiction of how tough a time women have it while still depicting a kind of unique female cruelty to men, and the constant sexist statements undermined by the POV and what actually happened.  Hopefully my naive viewpoint, coming at this fresh eyes will be valuable. So, like, are all these movies from this time period about class?  It kind of reminds me of Impro, the Keith Johnstone book, which basically boils all theatrical character interaction to being about status.  

Anyway, I’ve ignored my exegesis of Taylor Swift’s Lover to write this, so I must be back to work.  

[annabelleswife]

it lives in the woods mc!

:3! her name is Faye Moon and she romanced Andy!

+ how tall are they? - hm, she’s probably like 5′4″ or 5′5″? she’s small but mighty.

+ how do they tend to dress? - red flannel + ripped up jeans + combat boots. she would’ve worn a tux to the prom if PB had let me.

+ do they like how they look? - sure. Faye’s too busy dealing with everybody else’s problems to stress about how she looks really.

+ are they an only child or do they have any siblings? - I don’t feel like she has any, no. maybe some younger cousins that occasionally visit but she’s used to being on her own a lot. (and it’s half the reason why she bonded so deeply with the gang + Jane specifically.)

+ are they a morning person or night owl? - definitely a night owl. do NOT go anywhere near her before 10 A.M. unless you come armed with caffeine and padded armor.

+ are they a cat person or a dog person? - dog!

+ got any favourite foods? - Faye’s diet is horrible. she’d try to live on sour patch kids and top ramen if Andy let her. she’s really into potato chips, that’s her main vice.

+ how about favourite drinks? - anything sweet!

+ what are their favourite movies/tv shows? - ironically, prior to ILITW, I feel like Faye’s favorite movie genre was probably horror. big fan of ones with a deeper meaning like Babadook or Get Out. she actually doesn’t watch much tv but her guilty pleasure is Say Yes to the Dress. when Andy found out, Faye never heard the end of it.

+ do they have any hidden talents? - she’s actually a pretty decent artist! she has a sketchbook that she’s been working on since Jane’s disappearance, most of the drawings being of Jane herself. her style has definitely improved over the years.

+ do they believe in love at first sight? - she would never admit to it because it’s cheesy and gross, but yes. Faye believes that when you know, you just know. and she just knew with Andy.

+ who is their love interest? - KING KANG!!!

+ what are they afraid of? - not being able to protect those she loves (: haha (:

+ what are their guilty pleasures? - I kinda mentioned this earlier, she secretly loooooves wedding shows. I guarantee the gang has a separate channel in their discord server titled Faye’s Dream Wedding!!! that are just like horribly edited wedding pictures with Faye and Andy’s heads cropped on the bodies. eh, what can she say? something about happily ever after gets to her.

+ what was their dream job as a kid? is it still their dream? - hm, she probably wanted to be a teacher at one point. I think now she feels too angry for that, but maybe one day when it’s all said and done for real she might consider going into it again.

+ have they ever broken a bone? - oh, yeah. she was a rough and tumble kid. definitely broke her arm playing softball or something along those lines.

+ have they ever been in trouble with the law? - actually, no. a lot of kids at school might think so because of how she dresses and her attitude, but she’s actually kind of a dweeb. she’d probably cry if she ever got arrested.

+ three other random facts about them!

Faye used to be pretty into comic books too. really loves heroes like Moon Knight, Swamp Thing, John Constantine, etc.

if she were Attuned, she’d be a Fire-Att!

she always makes sure to visit Noah when she can, sometimes she even brings him things. like snacks, books. she’s not sure if he can actually enjoy them anymore, but they’re always gone when she comes back, so she certainly hopes so.

[frisbee-camp]

Let Me Help

AO3 Link//Wattpad Link

Tj and Cyrus have been friends for a long time, but will that change after life comes crashing down and impulsive decisions catch up to them? (Angst, Ambi, love notes, slow burn, aged up so they're all in high school, god tier ships, mental health, and like a whole bunch more ladies! Let’s get this angst.)

Chapter 14 I Want To

TJ thought he was dreaming, no, he thought someone was playing a cruel joke on him. Did that really just happen? As he sat there hugging Cyrus on Buffy's couch, TJ's world was alright, he forgot about his math final, his parent's empty marriage, the money from the shift he had to take off to be here. Things were okay, Cyrus liked him, he liked Cyrus, there was nothing that could ruin it. But as Cyrus let go of him, the fear set in. He didn't know what to do next, was he supposed to kiss him? Ask him on a date? Ask to be his boyfriend? Cyrus looked up at him and gave him a timid smile, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God. Tj hoped Cyrus couldn't see the sweat collecting on his forehead. Tj looked around the room and looked down to see Cyrus still holding his hand. Are my hands sweaty?  "Hey," Cyrus said softly, "What's wrong?" "Nothing," Tj tried to convince himself. Nothing was wrong, but TJ knew things could go wrong. Cyrus squeezed his hand a bit, "I just don't know what to do now," he admitted and gave Cyrus an anxious smile.  "Me neither," Cyrus give a soft chuckle. Cyrus wore a cat sweater in a disgusting shade of green, his hair was combed back, and his cheeks were a little pink. TJ felt himself staring, he looked away for a moment.  "What now?" TJ wished this were a movie, he wished someone could come in and edit this part out. He just wanted to get to the part where they're kissing in the rain or sharing a milkshake. Maybe Amber was right, he did watch too many French films.  "Whatever you want it to be," Cyrus said as he put his head back on TJ's shoulder. TJ sat motionlessly, he didn't want to disrupt Cyrus.  "Teej!" they heard Amber calling to them, "Tee-" Amber stopped mid-stride as she entered the living room, her smile turned into a knowing grin, "Come outside, we're making smores," she gave a quick wink to TJ and smiled as she walked away.  TJ held his breath, "She knows," he joked with Cyrus. Cyrus laughed, it was better than any film score.  "Twintuition," Cyrus said. "How do you know about that?" TJ said suspiciously and gave a lopsided smile. "What do you mean how do I know about it? You two are literally the definitions of it," Cyrus said as he stood up, "Come on, I don't want to miss the smores." Cyrus took his hand and led him outside. TJ stopped him before they got out the door. "Wait," TJ said as he pulled Cyrus into a side hallway.  "What is it?" Cyrus said worriedly. "I-" Tj looked down at their interconnected hands.  "Oh," Cyrus took his hand away. "No no no it's not that," Tj said as he quickly grabbed it again.  Cyrus looked up at him and blinked "Then what is it?"Don't mess this up TJ. TJ gulped and heard the hum of his friend's laughter from outside.  "Them? They're our friends T, plus I have a growing suspicion that they knew before us," Cyrus raised an eyebrow. Tj didn't know what was wrong with him, why couldn't he just let himself be happy?  "I know but," Tj didn't know what he wanted to say, he scratched behind his ear. Everything was moving too quickly, he hadn't expected to confess today, he hadn't prepared himself. How do you even prepare for something like this? "But it's too fast?" Cyrus said apprehensive, he stepped a little closer. Tj held his breath. "You could say that," Tj couldn't look him in the eyes. What was he supposed to say? Cyrus, I want to be with you? Cyrus, you know you're my favorite person and I want to give you all the puppies in the world? Cyrus, you make living worth it, I'm afraid of losing you, you make me feel like I'm in a Jean Cocteau film? He ground his teeth a bit, Cyrus tightened his grip.  "If you won't say it, then I will." Cyrus cleared his throat, "Tyler James, you're the most caring, considerate, complicated, messy teenager I have ever met and I love that about you. So, if you don't want to hold hands in front of our friends, then we won't. I won't force you."  "Cy, don't you think holding hands is a relationship thing?" TJ said softly, suddenly realizing that his only exposure to romance came from foreign black and white movies.  "What?" Cyrus chuckled.  "Like, don't you think if we go out holding hands they'll think we're together?" TJ bit his lip. "I guess, but who cares?" "I care," Tj said.  Cyrus' face softened, "Tyler James, if you're asking me to be your boyfriend, then my answer is yes," he said carefully.  TJ blushed, he definitely was about to have a heart attack. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, "Okay," he finally said. Cyrus lovingly rolled his eyes and gently pulled him outside.  Outside, their friends sat in a circle around the fire. They sat down just as Buffy ended the story of when Amber left Andi at the top of a Ferris wheel, TJ looked around. No one seemed to care that they'd just shown up or that they were holding hands now. Cyrus smiled at him, he smiled back. Andi quietly handed them smores supplies and whispered something to Cyrus, Tj saw him blush.  "What was that about?" TJ said as he took the supplies from Cyrus. "They wanted to let me know that they think we're cute together," Cyrus said as he reached to grab the metal skewer, TJ moved the supplies away from him. TJ laughed a little and put marshmallows on the ends of the skewers. As the night dragged on, Tj and Cyrus grew more comfortable with each other. There were less shy smiles and more laughter, TJ had never smiled so much in his life. They shared a blanket Buffy had brought out as Tj made Cyrus smores. TJ knew from experience that Cyrus liked his marshmallows golden (not burnt) and gooey on the inside. Cyrus smiled after receiving each smore, Tj only ate the chocolate bars.  After the fifth one, Cyrus gave a dramatic gasp and looked at TJ, "Tyler James stop feeding me smores!" Tj started roasting another marshmallow, "Tell me to stop and I will," he gave Cyrus a smug smile. Cyrus scrunched up his nose and gave Tj a quick kiss on the cheek, "Never," he said as he bit into his fifth smore. TJ thought he was about to die, he heard himself giggle.  The fire died down and people started to talk amongst themselves. TJ and Cyrus kept getting glances, probably because Cyrus was halfway in his lap. He expected stares, but he didn't think they'd come with smiles (or in Jonah's case a thumbs up).  Tj felt a tension that he didn't know he had leave. He looked over at Cyrus who was already looking at him, Tj had half expected him to be looking at Jonah. Cyrus wrapped his arms around TJ, he felt him breath out.  "You wrote those notes didn't you?" He heard Cyrus say. Tj was sure Cyrus could hear his heart rate pick up speed, he had forgotten about that. It now made him cringe.  "Maybe," he said as picked up another chocolate bar.  "You absolute sap, you did didn't you! Andi and Buffy said you did but I didn't believe them," Cyrus gave him a playful shove, Tj pursed his lips. "If I'm being honest, they're quotes from my favorite movies so..." Tj mumbled and put together another smore. "You can say film, I know you want to," Cyrus grinned, Tj put an arm around him. "Oh thank god, they're Godard films," TJ said as he picked at the chocolate bar.  "Of course they are." "Duh," Tj smiled.  "Duh." Tj looked out at his friends. Amber and Andi were sharing the messiest smore Tj had ever seen, Jonah and the frisbee team were singing Christmas songs, and Buffy and Marty were laughing hysterically with Walker. He looked at Cyrus and felt like he belonged, like he didn't have to wear his mask around any of them, like his heart was full. Amber grinned at him. He would deal with her later.  "So," Cyrus said. "So," Tj bit into the chocolate bar.  "What are you doing next week?" Cyrus said nonchalantly, TJ knew what this was about. TJ smirked, "Nothing." He was definitely up to something. Cyrus lightly traced Tj's nailbeds and looked up at him from under his eyelashes,  "Do you want to go to the dance with me?"  Tj beamed, Cyrus looked adorable under their shared blanket, "We said we'd already go together," he said as he pushed back a stray hair.   "Yeah, but that was different, now we're..." Cyrus nuzzled up toTJ. "Boyfriends?" TJ teased.  Cyrus blushed and hid his face behind the blanket, "Yea." "I'd love to go to the dance with you Underdog," Tj paused and lifted Cyrus' chin, "as your boyfriend," he gave Cyrus a gentle nose rub, the butterflies in TJ's stomach returned. He had already decided to wear his old tux, but now that he was going with Cyrus he needed to look his best.  Cyrus gave him a bright smile, "Next year I expect a grand gesture." "Next year? You mean for prom?" Tj didn't even know what he was going to have for breakfast the next morning. Cyrus gave him a serious nod. He better start planning.  

[celluloidself]

Masculinity in Crisis in Sunset Boulevard

By KC Wingert

One of the trademark characters in any film noir is the femme fatale:  a woman who uses her sexuality as a means of manipulating a man and ultimately coming out on top. Regarding the plot of his classic 1950 film Sunset Boulevard, noir director Billy Wilder described “a new film about an old silent screen star who had a few problems,” referencing the eccentric Norma Desmond character, whose delusions about her former stardom ultimately drive her to insanity. Surely, Norma’s character steals the show in a way; her ego and wild ideas about Hollywood drive the conflict of the film. However, Wilder’s description leaves out the film’s narrator, the now-deceased Joe Gillis. In this film, we see Joe regress from a strong-willed writer into a spineless pawn as his femme fatale counterpart strips him of his autonomy and masculinity. A scene about hallway through the film, in which Joe and Norma are being driven to Norma’s friend’s home to play bridge, best represents this theme of emasculation by femme fatale.

The scene starts with an establishing shot featuring Max, Norma’s butler, driving Joe and Norma. Joe’s voiceover explains that they are on their way to see Norma’s friends to play the card game that Norma has taught Joe; he also explains that she has taught him several things about high society living, such as which wines pair with which entrees best. The shot then moves to a medium close up of Joe and Norma in the backseat. Both are dressed lavishly, with Joe in a tux and slicked back hair and Norma in long gloves, a massive fur coat, and conspicuous amounts of jewelry hanging from her neck. Norma goes to pull out a cigarette but finds that her case is empty—Max has forgotten to refill it. She rolls her eyes and expresses her frustration, calling Max an idiot, so Joe responds by taking command. He tells Max to pull up at the drugstore ahead, where he says he will buy Norma cigarettes. Norma’s mood lifts, and she is delighted by his offer. However, she reaches into her clutch and grabs money for Joe and offers it to him without even looking at him or saying a word about how she would pay. Joe looks at her as if to say, “Really?” but begrudgingly takes the cash anyway before heading into the store. 

For such a quick scene, this one is very telling of Joe and Norma’s relationship dynamic. Joe and Norma appear to be equals in this shot; they are both well dressed, and they share the screen. However, when one knows the context of the film—that Joe is in Norma’s car wearing an expensive tuxedo that Norma paid for, traveling to Norma’s friend’s house to play a game that Norma taught him—one sees that Joe has very little control over the situation. In fact, by depending on Norma for clothes, food, and housing, Joe relinquishes his autonomy to her and allows her to control him. In this scene he is trying to make a nice gesture. By offering to grab her cigarettes, Joe is attempting to reestablish a feeling of equality in their relationship; while Norma pays for some things, Joe can still be gentlemanly by offering to get Norma her cigarettes. However, Norma quickly strips that feeling away from him by wordlessly handing him the money. This goes against the norms of the time during which the film was made; in the 1950s, men were usually the breadwinners and women lived off their partner’s incomes. This role reversal, which today could be seen as fairly normal, would have been emasculating and humiliating to a man in the 1950s.

We know that Joe is uncomfortable with Norma paying for everything from the look he gives her in this scene, but because Norma does not even look up to see his facial expression, she probably does not even realize how emasculating that is. In earlier scenes, however, Joe is much more ardent about expressing his feelings. For example, when Norma first decides to revamp Joe’s wardrobe, the pair shops at a small, ritzy-looking boutique. Joe stands in a suit—the first time we see him in anything but his own meager wardrobe—as Norma calls the shots. She approves of the suit he wears and insists on buying a new camelhair overcoat for him. Joe, barely surviving on his own income, is not exactly in a position to refuse this offer, until the salesman shows him a more expensive coat. Joe protests, saying he would be happy with the less expensive option, but the salesman leans closer to him. If Norma is footing the bill, the salesman asks, then why wouldn’t Joe take the more expensive coat? Joe’s expression is frustrated; the salesman has a point, but Joe does not like the idea of letting Norma shower him in gifts. Though the scene ends with that interaction, we can assume that Joe reluctantly caves into Norma and the salesman’s wishes because he is later seen in incredibly lavish clothing. This scene is just the beginning of the emasculation of Joe Gillis; though he accepts Norma’s gifts, he protests before begrudgingly giving in. By the time we reach the scene in the car, the extent to which Joe’s objections go has dwindled down from vocal remonstration to a subtle, unnoticed facial expression. Joe is no longer his own man; rather, he is a victim to Norma’s every whim.

Of course, there is no victim without a predator. In the case of Sunset Boulevard, Norma Desmond is represented as a predator from the moment we see her. In the first scene in which she appears, the former star is dressed in leopard print as she hovers over the body of her dead chimp, a non-predatory animal. She meets Joe and loses interest in her chimp, closing in on her new companion—or her new prey—never mentioning her pet’s death again in the film. As the movie goes on, we see her wearing leopard print more and more; even the seats of her car are upholstered in the gaudy pattern. Perhaps this goes to show that Norma herself is not the only predator to whom Joe Gillis falls victim:  the lifestyle Norma boasts is just as alluring. Joe accepts a job editing her script simply because he needs the money, and he stays at her home simply because he cannot return to his apartment on his meager income. Joe is drawn in by the idea of not having to work for a living, making him as much a victim of consumer culture as he is a victim of Norma’s predatory plotting. Similarly, this film serves as a critique of car culture; if Joe had just given his car to the collectors, the story of Sunset Boulevard would never have happened. However, cars are a necessity of living in Los Angeles, and Joe does everything he can to keep his automobile when the debtors come looking for him. When we see Joe and Norma together in her car, they are sitting in leopard-printed seats, symbolic of the trappings of the luxurious lifestyle Norma’s wealth offers as well as of Southern Californian car culture. Norma’s excessive wealth essentially gives her the power she holds over Joe, and we see this power being exercised in the scene in her car.

Overall, Joe’s character consistently deals with emasculation throughout Sunset Boulevard, and we see this clearly as he becomes less and less likely to stand up to Norma. While he is argumentative at the beginning of the film, he eventually succumbs to Norma’s wealth and the power that consumerism and car culture hold over him. He loses all autonomy and allows Norma to control the way he eats, the people he sees, and the clothes he wears. The scene in the car shows Joe trying to apply a sense of equality and normalcy to their relationship, but he is unsuccessful in doing so, as Norma immediately shuts his gentlemanly offer down. Eventually, Joe depends on her fully and starts to believe that he needs her to live, which is exactly what she wants. Joe even goes so far as to reject a woman he truly loves in favor of Norma and the arrangement they have. Her predatory nature keeps Joe close, but eventually Joe realizes that he must reestablish his autonomy and stand up to his manipulative captor. He regains his independence and, subsequently, his masculinity by telling Norma that she is delusional and revealing the harsh truth—that Cecil B. DeMille is not interested in her script; that Max has been writing her fan mail; and that people would not care whether she lived or died. Joe then attempts to leave Norma, at which point she reveals her predatory nature once again:  like a cat plays with its food before eating it, Norma plays with Joe until he tries to escape. Norma kills Joe the moment he regains his autonomy and rejects the power her money has over him, making Norma Desmond a femme fatale in the most literal sense and Joe Gillis an ultimately emasculated victim.

[apluseffort]

Fic: Body Movin’

I’m a bit late for Day 3, but I wanted to get this one edited before posting.

Cor finds himself alone, once again, at one of the Citadel's ballroom events. It only takes one outgoing Glaive to break him from that routine.

Pairing: Nyx\Cor Rating: G Warnings: Shmoop

AO3 Link

Citadel Sponsored Balls were not Cor’s cup of tea. They never have been and never will be; not in his all of his time in Regis’s service. He would be what most socialites would consider a “wallflower” and even amongst colleagues and coworkers, he preferred to stand back and watch.

This was one of those Citadel Balls where he decided people watching while he had a hard drink in hand was the way he wanted to spend his evening. The party was nearing to a close with no one to bother him all night (other than Clarus walking over to hand him the glass of scotch he was nursing now). He couldn’t wait to get back to his place, strip out of his tux, kick off his dress shoes and curl up in bed.

“Pretty tame party as far as some of these go, huh?”

Cor nearly jumps, turning to see one of the younger Glaives standing next to him. Not too close, Cor observes, but enough that he could have caught him out of the corner of his eye. He was respectful, unassuming, with his arms resting behind his back in a relaxed stance. There could’ve been worse people to interrupt his uninterrupted evening, he supposes.

“Thankfully,” Cor laughs to himself, keeping his focus on the thinning crowd. He gives it another hour before the majority of who was left decided to make it back home… or to a hotel room.

“Not a fan?”

Cor glances in the other man’s direction again, he’s not a new recruit, that much he could tell by his uniform. Cor tries to subtly look around the ballroom, trying to look for Drauto. He spots him standing close to Clarus, staring right at them.

Curious.

“Not at all. The best kind of ball is when they’re over.”

Cor turns his attention back to the man, who just looks terribly amused. The Glaive pulls one of his hands from behind his back and holds it out to Cor.

“Nyx Ulric, a pleasure, Marshal.”

Ah, Cor thinks, so this was why Drautos was staring over here. He takes Nyx’s hand and they shake in greeting. He had heard about this particular Glaive from those of the guard young and old. He made quite the impression from the last few recon missions the Kingsglaive had gone on. Missions where he was included would have some of the highest return and success rates. If he were Drautos, he would also be keeping an eye on him.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m over here speaking to you.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised at how often I usually have people come up to me during these things.”

Nyx’s amused look was now turning into a full-on smile, “I don’t really have to be surprised, sir. If you don’t mind me saying, you’re extremely handsome and since you don’t have someone hanging on your every word, we can assume you’re here alone.”

Cor just stares at Nyx, surprised at how much this man was a smooth talker. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to someone who just called him handsome to his face. He can’t think of a situation where this had happened to him before. People usually weren’t as… bold. He’s not sure if the man was a fool or just very outgoing. If Drautos’s stare was any indication, he could assume that Nyx was just one of those people who threw caution to the wind.

“I am.”

“So, since you’re here alone and it doesn’t seem like you’re really into the festivities, would you be willing to take a walk with me?”

Cor, for the second time in a span of less than five minutes, did not know how to respond. His first inclination was to say no, to go back to waiting until the dance was over and make sure Clarus was able to get himself home. On the other hand, he wouldn’t mind walking around away from the noise and the people. It was a nice late summer evening and it would be a shame to miss out on the warm weather. He glances at the clock on the wall and sees that there was still quite a bit of time left.

“Sure.”

“Yeah?” Nyx’s smile is bright as he holds out his arm for Cor to take. Cor snorts his laughter, shaking his head with a smile as he starts walking, leaving the Glaive scrambling to catch up.

He leads them out of the ballroom to the hall where windows cast their reflection as they pass by. The loud noises of the party start to slowly muffle and morph into just their footsteps and the quiet, comfortable silence of an empty hallway. Cor wasn’t sure what to talk about; he could go on about work, but the whole point of this Ball was to get away from it for a little while.

“The scotch good tonight?”

Nyx’s voice caused him to pause in his steps. He’d forgotten he’d brought his drink along with him.

“It’s good stuff. The Citadel’s planning committee wouldn’t skimp on something like booze.” Cor states as he continues down another hallway, Nyx walking a step behind at his side. He remembered this hall. It was one of those that would lead to one of the outdoor garden rooms they had set aside for employee breaks. There was a path would lead them through the garden amidst an open walkway. From there, it would be easier to go straight back to the ballroom.

When they reached the garden, Cor was a little surprised to find that there was no one else here. The garden itself was a nice secluded area to get away from the hustling crowd of the ballroom. Most people came here to make out with their dates at these kind of events. Cor, grateful for the lack of people around, was about to follow the path right through the garden when he felt a tug on his sleeve. Cor spun on his heel to see Nyx standing back up straight, looking slightly sheepish.

“Mind holding on for a second?”

To be honest, Cor would have rather gone back to the ballroom, but he supposed outside was peaceful and despite their walk being silent, it was a comfortable kind of silence. He also didn’t want to seem too rude. The guy was the only person to really talk to him this evening and he may as well socialize if just a little longer.

“All right.”

This time it was Nyx that led Cor to a stone bench that had been placed in front of some orchids and irises. The night sky was clear and despite the lights of Insomnia interfering with the stars, one could nearly make out most of the major ones at the head of constellations. They sit at the bench, looking at the view around them. Cor could feel Nyx shift in his seat, his boldness winning over his hesitance.

“I know you don't know me very well, but I bet you can figure out why I came up to you this evening, right?”

Cor nods, a grin spreading across his face. “I may be serious about my job and I might not really enjoy these kind of outings, but I'm not unobservant or naive.”

He's likes the way Nyx’s face flushes just a bit at that answer.

“Well, good.” Nyx suddenly stands up and faces Cor, holding out his forearm. “Would you do me the honor of having this dance?”

Cor stares at the offered arm, thinking over his options and taking it. He had figured that this was what the Glaive was up to, but he wouldn’t have imagined that the man would be so… proper about it. The least he could do was indulge him for a little while.

Nyx leads them back to the gravel path that lead in front of a little rock pond. He turns to Cor, happiness written all over his face. Cor had to admit the man was endearing.

“We can go slow if you’d like. Music’s kind of setting the mood.”

And that it did, Cor mused. This was the kind of genre that would be playing during Regis’s Father’s reign. Not that it was bad, just… it was a classic. Nyx’s hands went to take Cor by the waist and hand, smiling as he began to sway to the beat. Cor, for all of his grace while fighting couldn’t remember the last time he tried dancing. His steps were a little awkward, but Nyx stayed at the same pace until Cor got used to the movement.

“I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries, but I’d been meaning to talk to you for a while.”

If there was one thing Cor could say about Nyx, was that he was definitely a charmer. Not that Cor was the kind of man that was easily charmed.

“Really?”

Nyx laughed, leading them into a smoother dance, their feet used to the movements by now. “I don’t get how you don’t have people lining up to dance with you at these things.”

“That’s because most of them have learned that I don’t normally join in on the festivities.”

“It’s a shame. Your footwork isn’t half bad.”

Cor could feel the laugh bubbling up in his throat, the look he got from Nyx was one as if the cat got the cream.

“So you do laugh,” Nyx stepped back and spun Cor, only to pull him back in. Oddly enough, Cor didn’t trip over his own feet.

“On occasion.”

“I guess I must be special, huh?”

This guy was definitely a character; a charming, handsome character that must draw people to him on personality alone. Thinking back, he could understand why someone like Drautos would stare them down from across the ballroom.

“Could be something like that.”

Nyx winks at Cor, “Lucky me then.”

Rolling his eyes, Cor shakes his head with a smile. He was honestly enjoying himself, despite the ridiculous flirting. He allows himself to be lead again as the music swells towards the end of the song. And softly the music fades and all they were left with were the sounds of crickets and the echoes of coworkers beginning to leave the ballroom for the evening.

Nyx steps back, letting his hand fall from Cor’s waist, but keeps hold of Cor’s hand. He brings it up to his lips, lightly touching Cor’s knuckles much to Cor’s own amusement. Nyx lets go of his hand with a slightly wistful glance in its direction.

“Thanks for humoring me.” Nyx shrugs as he stands with his hands behind his back once again. He looked like a proper soldier standing at attention. He couldn’t help but think that Drautos taught them well.

“No need to thank me. I enjoyed it.”

Cor could see the grin spread across Nyx’s face, “Then would you, maybe, want to continue this sometime?”

The Marshal glances around the courtyard quickly before stepping close to Nyx, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a tender kiss. He feels Nyx’s hands slowly come to rest on his hips, holding him close as the kiss continues for a few more moments. Cor stands back with a satisfied sigh, amused at the flush that graces Nyx’s cheeks. Cor pats his shoulder, turning to walk towards the exit.

“Shall we head back?”

Nyx, smiling brightly, holds out his arm for Cor to take. “If you’d do me the honor?”

Cor takes the offered arm, a smile spreading across his face as they make their way back to the ballroom.

[buckygirl-fanfiction]

Sparks Chapter 9

Pairing: Bucky(POV) X Reader(POV) ft. other characters from the avengers team

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Bucky volunteers to be y/n’s date at a prestigious scientific gala y/n is invited to speak at. Bucky’s feelings for y/n grow and he catches himself gaping at her. After the gala they go back to y/n’s apartment for take out, a movie, and a sleepover. They share a bed once again but this time y/n feels different. After a violent attack with an intruder Bucky saves y/n’s life and realizes he would do anything for her: including kill.

A/N: This is a story about two people building a great friendship and then slowly falling in love. y/n is a strong, independent, and smart scientist. She meets Bucky when she wakes him up from cryo sleep and they become friends. This is going to have all the angst / best friends falling in love / fluff / drama / & eventual smut ;) that I can possibly fit in it. This fic is going to be looong! So far my document is like 80 pages. So editing is hard If you catch any grammatical or formatting errors let me know.

November 13, 2015

y/n’s POV

“Don’t be late,” I say holding the phone to my ear.

“I won’t be late. When have I ever been late?” Bucky replies. “I am the essence of punctuality.”

“This is really important,” I say putting the phone on speaker and picking up my curling iron again.

“I know, you know what I just got out of my briefing right now. I’m going to go back to my place and put on the best tux money can buy and meet you at the museum in 1 hour.” He says. “You’ll have the hottest date there.” I roll my eyes and end the call.

“Hey y/n, do you have some perfume,” Cho asks from behind me. We are in my bedroom back at my apartment getting ready for the scientific gathering of the season. It’s being held at the Museum of Natural History here in New York. It’s basically award season for scientists and I’ve been invited this year to deliver the opening address. Which is very prestigious because only leaders in their fields are invited to speak.

“Yeah, on my nightstand,” I say and Cho walks over and picks up the bottle. We’re invited every year. Well every year since Cho and I started working at the tower and we usually we go together. But, this time I decided to invite Bucky who happily volunteered to be my date. Cho was going to invite Steve, but superhero business kept him tied down. I curl the last piece of my long hair and put the curling iron down. I stand up from my vanity and walk over to the mirror to make sure I look put together. I’m wearing a long sleeveless silver silk dress and I look awesome, if I do say so myself.

“You’re definitely going to turn some lab nerds heads tonight,” Cho says jokingly to me.

Bucky’s POV

I arrive, exactly on time, at the museum. I walk into the large hall with people buzzing around and champagne glasses being clinked. I spot y/n and Cho at one of the front tables and walk towards them. She looks beautiful. Like always. She’s wearing heels again, I like it when she wears heels because then we’re almost the same height. She’s standing around the table with Cho looking around the room probably waiting to yell at me for not being here earlier. Not my fault that Stark is so insistent on his mission updates. I walk towards the table and she spots me. She’s wearing a shiny grey dress and it clings to her body. She’s smart, beautiful, and fun I didn’t know someone could have it all, but she does. Man, i’m really smitten aren’t I? I think to myself. I need to stop. These are clearly some misplaced feelings that i’m secretly harboring. They will fade away eventually. I don’t want to open a can of worms I can’t close and destroy a perfectly great friendship.

“You’re on time,” she says looking at her watch.

“I told you I would be,” I say.

“Well, Bucky don’t you look smart,” Cho says looking at me.

“Thank you and both of you look… well… wow,” I say looking at y/n with a loss for words. Stop it, I say to my brain. She’s your friend. I tear my gaze away from y/n and look at Cho. Man poor Steve I think to myself. He’s really disappointed that he couldn’t be here.

“Nice bow tie,” y/n says smiling at me. We take a seat and soon the hall begins to fill up quickly with people. Mostly old men and their wives. Some young lanky looking kids in suits way too big for them. The night proceeds smoothly and y/n gives her speech and I do my best not to gape. She gets a lot of visitors at our table: donors who congratulate her on her success, company heads who try to recruit her, and fellow scientists gaping at her prowess. After a couple more glasses of champagne and hearing way too many science jokes that I don’t understand we finally decide to leave.

y/n’s POV

I have my fur jacket tightly wrapped around me. It’s cold. Its mid November and it’s way too cold for my liking. We walk outside the front of the museum and down the many stone steps. Cho hails a taxi and gets in, “I’ll see you guys later.” She yells out the window as her taxi pulls out into the traffic.

“Did you have fun?” I ask Bucky who yawns. I don’t think this was really his scene but i’m so glad he came.

“Yeah,” he says with a bright smile plastered on his face. We stand outside the museum waiting for another cab to pass by.

“Dr. y/l/n” I hear someone call my name. A tall woman with short platinum hair walks towards me with her date, a relatively older man I recognize but can’t seem to place at the moment.

“Yes?” I say looking at her.

“I’m Dr. Linda Highworth,” she says putting her hand out. I take it and her handshake is firm.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. You’re currently heading the Bio labs at Stark Tower correct?” She asks.

“Not heading, just overseeing” I correct. Tony asked Cho and I to step in and take Axelrod’s place. But I certainly wasn’t the head of anything. I still had to report to a boardroom of old men. A board, that’s where I knew her date from. He’s on the board. Doctor something Highworth. It must be her dad.

“Well, either way, you’re a rising star,” she says to me and I can’t quite place whether her tone is genuine or not.

“Dr. Highworth,” I say turning to her companion. “You’re on the board correct?”

“I see, you remember my face,” the old man says in response. “My days of scientific practice are over. I leave the field to young new stars like you and my daughter now,” the old man coughs cutting himself off in the middle of his sentence. “Linda here will be collaborating on some defense projects for Stark. I just wanted you two to meet.” Hmm, I think to myself. I’m not one for nepotism.

“Yes, I work for private defense contractor. But father here though I would be valuable to the Stark team,” She says her fake platinum blonde shining in the moonlight. “It was pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I say nodding my head at her and they make their way to a black car that’s waiting for them at the curb.

“He looks familiar,” Bucky says nodding in the old man’s direction.

“You’ve probably seen him around the tower,” I say shrugging my shoulders.

“Probably,” Bucky repeats. A cab passes by and I stick my hand out to hail it. Bucky opens the door and I slide in and he gets in after me.

“Were to?” the cabbie asks me.

I turn to Bucky and ask, “Take out, my place?” and he nods, so I give the cab driver my address.

…

We’re sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with boxes of chinese food around us watching tv. I changed out of my lovely dress and i’m sporting a tank top and a pair of hello kitty pink pajama shorts. I gave Bucky his grey shirt back, the one I took ages ago, he swapped his dress shirt for it and is still wearing his black pants. We’re watching some alien horror movie. Where a crew of unsuspecting space travels enter a planet with killer lifeforms.

“Pass me the shrimp,” I say to Bucky and he hands me a container. “Are you staying over tonight?” I ask in between bites.

“Sure,” he replies.

Its nearly 2 am when the movie finishes and Bucky is already knocked out on my tiny sofa. His legs hanging off the ends.

“Hey,” I tap him. “Wake up,” and he mumbles something before going still again. “Fine then sleep on the sofa, don’t blame me when your back hurts in the morning like last time.”

“Mhhhh,” he says getting up and rubbing his eyes. Now two friends sharing a bed shouldn’t be something so scandalous I think to myself. So why does it feel scandalous this time. Bucky’s slept over before. Bucky’s slept over in my bed before, after complaining that my sofa hurt his back. But ever since our almost moment during halloween. I don’t know, doing anything remotely intimate with Bucky seems scandalous. I mean for god sakes we are on completely opposite sides of the bed, it’s not like we cuddle. Why does this feel so different? Honestly, these are questions that I don’t want to explore right now. So, i’m just going to pretend everything is normal until it is again. I close my eyes and turn my body so it’s facing my window and drift off to sleep.

I wake up around 5 am according to my bedside clock and toss the covers to the side and get up. My throat is so dry, I need a glass of water. I walk to the kitchen through semi darkness the only light is moonlight coming in through my windows and flooding the living room. I yawn on my way to the kitchen and take out a glass from the cabinet. I hear a thud coming from the living room. Probably that damn cat knocking something over again. It always finds a way to sneak in here. I make a mental note to return it to my neighbor, Louise, tomorrow morning. Hmm, thinking back I don’t remember seeing it around when Bucky and I got back last night. I scratch my head and walk out of the kitchen into the living room with the glass in my hand. I don’t see her. I squint in the darkness and walk around looking under my sofa. I place the glass on my coffee table and I see a shadow behind me. But, when I turn around it’s not Tina the cat. It’s Maddox. Well I haven’t seen his face in a while, I think to myself before ducking out the way of his large fist. He lunges at me with an impressively sharp switchblade. I kick him as hard as I can but he seems relatively unaffected and continues to walk towards me. I grab the closest thing resembling a weapon I can see, which happens to be a heavy iron bookend and I swing at his head. In the process he lodges his impressively sharp switchblade into my forearm. And that’s when I let out the scream that wakes Bucky up. Now why hadn’t I just thought of that earlier I think to myself while a knife sticks out of my arm.

Bucky’s POV

I hear a loud scream come from the living room and I jump out of bed. I grab the gun I stashed under y/n’s nightstand and run out into the living room to find her struggling with a tall dark figure. He pushes her down and I find my opportunity and take the shot effectively taking him out. With a thud his body falls to the floor.

“Ahhh,” y/n cries out in pain. It’s still dark but I can see a lot of blood and a switchblade sticking out of her left forearm. I run to her side kneeling next to her and pull her into my arms. I grab my phone from the coffee table next to us and send out a SOS. I’m on the floor leaning on the couch with y/n in my arms.

“y/n your arm,” I say as I pull her closer towards me and onto my lap. She reaches for the knife, “No don’t pull that out,” I say, but before I can stop her she fearlessly pulls the knife out of her arm. There’s a lot of blood. I grab her arm trying to hold the blood pouring out back.

“Keep pressure on the wound,” she says panting and out of breath. “He tried to kill me,” she says. “Thank you,” she’s winded and so am I.

“The others are on their way,” I say. “I got you, just relax. Just trust me alright, i’ll take care of you… Shhhh” she leans into my embrace still breathing heavily and I can’t help but repeat, “I’m right here, i’ll take care of you, i’m not going anywhere.” I kiss the top of her head that’s resting against my chest. “I got you,” I say. I sit holding her small body in my arms. We are in the dark, the only light illuminating the blood on my hands is the moonlight streaming in from the windows. She’s in my arms and only a few feet away is the man I just killed. I haven’t killed in a long time, since i’d woken up from cryo in fact, I don’t like doing it. But i’d kill for her… I would kill FOR her… In that moment I realize I would do anything for her. I pull her closer to me, my chin resting on her head, and whisper, “I got you, baby”.

[mandrakebrew]

Ayy I actually wrote something. I honestly gave up editing this one, so please keep that in mind. Alice is 18 years old. Also she is autistic, so if I wrote something that is offensive please let me know! 

Words: 2,909 Rating: T (Swearing, alchohol) Relationship: Mephisto x OC

You hate the hospital, you don't even like visiting people in the hospital much less staying in one yourself. After suffering a collapsed lung, shattered ribs, and a broke arm, you didn't have much choice in the matter. You're glad when you finally reach your home, taken there by taxi. You glance at the dead olive branch you hung above your door, meant to keep away negative people. Seeing it reminds you that you will need to strengthen the wards around your house soon. Though that won't be fun with just one functioning arm.

You unlock your front door, and you expect to be greeted by your familiars, your undead dog, max, and several goblins. However, you find your friend Mephisto standing there. He's not in his usual attire, but in brown tux, black shirt and pink polka dot tie.

"Welcome home~" Mephisto greets you with a wink. You look down and notice the box in his hand. Your familiars are all watching from the couch, with the exception of Max, who runs up to you and sits, bone tail wagging away. Your rub his head, feeling the dead skin under your fingers.

You hesitate before speaking to your guest. "Hi," You almost ask how he got inside your house, but then you remember who it is you're speaking to. "What's the box for?" You ask.

"Oh this?" He gestures by lifting it slightly in one hand. He then extends it towards you. "It's a gift, I figured you'd enjoy it after being stuck in the hospital for so long."

You take the box, and stare down at it for a moment. You find yourself far more interested in information than whatever's inside the box.

"What happened to Amaimon?" You ask, your eyes move to meet his. However, you quickly move your gaze to his nose, a trick your mother taught you since you hate eye contact.

"Eh? He must have run off somewhere." Mephisto shrugged as he spoke.

You know he's lying. You've had plenty of time to sit and think about the events that occurred before you went to the hospital. you tried to talk to Amaimon, you wanted things to end peacefully. When that failed, you fought him. You knew another demon king wouldn't get a mile close to you without Mephisto allowing it.

"You know where he is. You sent him after us. You sent him so Rin would reveal himself-" You voice raises to a yell."They cut his legs off! They could have killed him! Why would you do that!?" You throw the box across the room, it hit the wall and slide down to the floor. The noise caused your goblin familiars to jump, and some of the smaller ones went and hid under your couch.

Mephisto stares at you silently, eye's wide. He smile shrinks but doesn't leave. "You believe what the demon told you?"

"Stop talking to me like I'm stupid Samael. We're friends. Or at least I thought we were. Tell me the truth or get out." You motion your head slightly towards the front door.

The use of his real name makes his eyes go ever wider than before. His smile also widens as he lets out a laugh. "You've known what I am this entire time?"

"Yes." Your reply is blunt, and you give no explanation as to how.

"Very well," He snaps his fingers and the front door shuts behind you, "I will tell you. You are correct about me sending Amaimon to fight Rin. However he was under orders not to kill any of you. Though," His eyes scan your body, and his voice dropped in tone, "He nearly broke that rule."

"I noticed," You speak quietly, glancing down at the sling holding your arm. You also have skin freshly grafted onto your unbroken arm, and the bald spot on the top of your head where they preformed surgery to correct the depressed skull fracture you suffered.

You're amazed that you have no brain damage, and that you're alive at all, really.

"But worry not," Mephisto spoke up, "He will be dealt with." A smirk remained on his face, eye lids low.

"No."

"Eh, what?"

"No. You sent him. This is all your fault. Do not harm him for this." You do your best to keep your eyes on his face.

"That isn't up to you, now is it?" He says.

Your eyes glance down and away, before returning to Mephisto. Your voice is small when you speak again, "Please don't?"

"Hmmmmm, very well then, no harm will come to him," he waves his hand in front of him as if shooing away the idea. "And about Rin, do you really think I'd let him die?"

You reach for and take the chew-able necklace around your neck and put the black mushroom pendant in your mouth, and think. "I'm not sure. Every account I've read about you, says you're a trickster. So I don't know what you might do."

He laughs at you, "You believe every story about me?"

"No, but every myth has a seed of truth to it." You tilt your head slightly, grinding your teeth on you necklace. "If you want me to know, tell me."

Again, he laughs, "What fun would that be?"

You laugh in response too, "Wow okay, asshole."

The unease in the room dissipated because of your shared laughter. Mephisto snapped his fingers, and the box you threw earlier appeared back in his hand. He extended his hand and offered it to you once again. You hesitate for a moment, before taking the box again. Curiosity takes you, and you take it over to the coffee table, and pull the lid off.

Inside was a book, about four inches thick.The outside is hard, the designs on the cover is black, curls going in directions with little reason to the design. You open it to the first page, to see it's written in Gehennian.

"A Collection of Fairy Tales, Myths, and Legends", Read the first page. You freeze for a moment in surprise.

"This is a book from Gehenna," You speak just barely above a whisper.

"I was planning to tell you who I was, after you opened your gift you know."

You let out a loud squeal, jump in place, and begin flapping the hand that isn't in a sling.

"Thank you!"

Mephisto doesn't respond but snaps his fingers, and another book appears in his hand. Much less gory looking than the book you have. It's white with eloquent writing on it. "This is book I wrote. Filled with spells dealing with time and space."

You gasp and reach for the book, but her pulls it away from you.

"Wait a moment~" You smiles at you, "You can have this one, but you must do something first."

You backed up, confused. You ask, "what is it?"

"I've made reservations at a restaurant in the city for ten tonight. All you need to do is join me." He glances at the clock on your wall, "Which will be in an hour."

Having parents that put emphasis on public appearance, what they taught you kicked in. You looked terrible and didn't have much time, and with a cast you would need to bathe instead of shower.

"Oh, okay. Just give me time to get ready, okay?" You rush upstairs before he can even respond.

It wasn't until you were drying yourself off after you bath did you realize that your best friend, and principal had asked you on a date.

You're not opposed, though you would have appreciated it if he didn't bribe you into it.

You finish getting ready, you wear you black dress shirt, black slacks and black mary janes. You also put your yellow cat-eye lenses in, you would have also put your fangs in, but those don't go well with solid food you found out.

"Well, I look alright, Max?" You turn and ask you ever-loyal undead-dog. He barks in approval. You pat him on the head, and make your way back downstairs. You find Mephisto reclining on one of your sofas, reading one of your mangas.

He looks up from it, "Ah, there you are. Are we ready to go?" He stands and the book vanishes. You hope it's gone back to it's proper place on the shelf.

"Yes, but-"

"'But?' Can I do anything nice without you disapproving?"

You frown, "I'm not disapproving. I'm just saying you could have asked me out without the bribe."

"Oh, so you do not want the grimoire then?"

"Oh spirits, yes, I do want the book!"

He laughs at you again. --- Inside his hot pink limo, you sit next to him, perpendicular. You eye the mini bar. Drinking would help calm your nerves, though you might drink to much and risk looking like a fool. Your parents would hear if you embarrassed yourself in public.

"Help yourself," Mephisto interrupted your thoughts.

"No, I better not."

"Very well. I'll get you drunk when I take you home then." He winks at you as soon as you turn your head to look at him.

Your face goes hot and you attempt to cover your smile with your hand. "You fucking creep."

He smiles at you and laughs. You only just now realize how much you love the sound of his laugh.

You finally get to the restaurant. It's inside a large skyscraper. You still haven't gotten used to the size of them yet, despite living in LA and then Tokyo for several years.

You both enter, and ride up the elevator the floor the restaurant is in. People look over at you, and some stare. Of course they do. You do your best to ignore them, and keep your focus on your friend.

Your friend. Your best friend. Your boyfriend?

You run the thought though your mind as you walk, following the waiter to your table. He takes you to a booth, with a light hanging above it. The whole place how low lighting you notice. You sit down and order your drinks. You're still too nervous to drink anything so you order a soda. Mephisto orders something called a ginger berry smash. Once the waiter leaves, you adjust the earplugs in your ears to pick up a little more sound.

You look through the menu, Mephisto is making comments and talking to you, but you're not good at talking while doing something else.

You decide on some sushi rolls since you're not too adventurous when it comes to food, You put your menu down and turn your attention to Mephisto.

"So, how long?" You ask, making sure to keep your voice down.

"Hm?" He tilts his head at you, eyebrows high.

"How long have you been wanting to ask me out like this?"

"Not too long after you went into the hospital," He answered. He opened his mouth  again, but stopped before actually saying anything.

"What?"

"I suppose the idea of losing you," He pauses, "Made me realize what you are to me."

Your cheeks grow warm, and you respond. "But isn't this illegal? Couldn't you get into a lot of trouble?"

He flashed a wicked smile at you, "No need for you worry about that my dear student. Now, my turn to ask you a question."

You swallow, "Alright."

He begins speaking in a language you don't actually have a name for, but you understand perfectly none the less, "Where did you learn to speak the language of Gehenna?"

You eyes drop from his face and you stare at your menu. He's asking about a part of your life you'd rather not mention.

"I have my ways," You answer, speaking in Mephisto's mother tongue.

He chuckles at you, "Now that's not very fair, I answered your questions."

"Well I did technically answer yours," You've both switched back to using English.

"Alright, then let me ask you this; how did you know who I am?"

That you can answer, "One of my special interests is demons. Any legend or clue of their whereabouts is probably somewhere on my computer. Plus I'm a deviation witch. I can use magic to find things out."

"'Special interests?'" Mephisto asked.

"Yeah. I have autism if you haven't figured that out yet. My other special interests are magic and fashion."

"You're into fashion and you wore that?"

"I was rushed. Also you're no one to talk since you're wearing that tie with that suit." You quip back.

He laughs lightly at your comment, then asks, "Why is it you've never mentioned any of this before?"

"You never asked." You shrug, "You just talked about what you liked but that was fine. I like learning about you. I guess that makes you another one of my special interests- Wait, is that weird?" You stop and quickly ask.

His smile widens and he shakes his head, "I find it flattering!"

"Oh good. I sometimes come off as creepy. That's what-" You pause, "Some people have told me. Then again, you do too."

"Oh? Who said that?" He asked, it doesn't seem offended, but curious.

"Rin."

The waiter returned with your drinks and took your order. You and Mephisto spent the rest of the dinner discussing many things, the conversation often leaving and returning to topics at random.

You were laughing together when you returned to Mephisto's limo. Feeling more relaxed, you reach for the mini bar once your inside the limo.

"Oh? Now you're getting into my mini bar." He points out, he voice holding a teasing tone.

"Yup." You reply flatly.

"Well get me a glass while you're at it, my dear."

You pause when you hear what he called you, but you make no comment and get a couple champagne glasses, and reach for a small bottle of chardonnay, before you realize your right arm is still broken. You huff and hand him both glasses and then go back for the bottle.

But before you can reach it, it vanishes in a puff of pink smoke. You turn and look at Mephisto who now has the bottle in his hand.

"Oh fuck you," You say, sitting back up and sliding back over to him.

"But Ms. Cross, this is only our first date!" He only laughs a bit and hands you one of the glasses. You choose to not react to his little tease. He pours some chardonnay into both of them, and asks, "Well, what shall we toast to?"

You squint your eyes at him, the question seeming very stupid to you. "To us, obviously."

He lets out a laugh, and gently clinks his glass against yours.

"I like your laugh," You comment. You turn to take a drink from your glass. When your eyes return to Mephisto, he's staring at you. "What?"

"My laugh?" He asks, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, it sounds nice." You explain. You return to your drink, but you jump slightly when you feel a hand wrap around your waist. You quickly realize it's Mephisto as he pulls you closer to him. Close enough that your thighs are now touching. His hand remains on your waist as you look from your thighs to his face which is now a pleased grin. You look away, and you can feel a blush on your cheeks.

You're both tipsy from the alcohol by the time you get back to your house. You climb out of the limo, fallowed by Mephisto. You begin to unlock the door, when you feel yourself being taken by the shoulder and turned around. Mephisto places a hand on your chin, staring at you. You frozen, sure he was about to kiss you.

However he lowers his hand, and instead takes your hand and places a kiss to the back of it, like you've read in a dozen corny romance novels.

He stands back up, smile still ever present on his face. "Well, I suppose I should be on my way, it's irresponsible for a student to be up so late, don't you think?"

You squint your eyes, "But, you're the one who took me out."

He laughs at you. You guess it's a joke you missed.

"Good night my dear, it's been a treat." He says, giving you a small bow.

You return the bow, "Good night, Mephy."

He lets out another laugh, but before you can ask what he's laughing at, he's back in his limo, and soon gone down the road. You turn and unlock the door, and head in.

You're greeted by your dog Max, and your goblins. A voice calls out from the kitchen, "Hello deary, did you have a nice time?"

It's the ghost that resides here. She was here before you even moved in. "Yes I did, Granny." You look over at where you left the book of fairy tales, and see the grimiore Mephisto promised you is sitting right next to it. You walk over to it, eager to learn it's secrets. You decide the other book will be good reading when you're in class and have nothing else to do.

You open the book, and to your surprise, you find a note folded just under the cover. You open the note, it reads;

"Try not to stay up too late studying sweetheart, you wouldn't want to ruin your sleep schedule. - Mephisto ~<3"

You suppress the urge to laugh. There's no way you can sleep with brand new spells to memorize!

[brainrattlers]

I Hope I Can Handle It (Part 5/?)

Summary: Sequel to “Think You Can Handle It?” - Reader is in a long-distance relationship, and is traveling for the holidays to see her man.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Words:  3174

Warnings: Oh geez, fluff. Nervousness/anxiety in social situations, but not too bad. Mentioning of getting naked. (aww yeah!)  Still... PG-13.  I’m not comfortable enough to go past that phase (yet?).

A/N: For the amount of time this chapter covers, it is kind of long. But it was the most fun part to write so far. I hope you all enjoy!  Tags are open, and are at the bottom.  I haven’t edited this too much, if there is a missing word or two, I’m sure I’ll find them.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

“Sebastian, I am so glad you made it!  I know it was so last second…” The woman kissed both of his cheeks, before turning to you.  “And this must be Y/N!”  Unexpectedly, she pulled you in for the same greeting.  Sebastian chuckled.  “I’m so glad you both are here, and that he’s giving me an opportunity to do something a little matchy matchy.  Shall we get started?”

You shrugged your shoulders.  “Sure?”

“Excellent. Sebastian, honey, your tux is in the back.  If you want to head back there, Miguel will be happy to help get things perfect.  And you, Y/N, Sebastian gave me a few ideas to work with, so I have a few designs to show you.  Come, come!  We’ve got a lot of work to do!”  Pulled away, Sebastian winked at you, blowing a kiss.

Being pulled into another back room, the designer grabbed a tape measure and a few sheets of newsprint, along with a few fabric swatches.  Awkwardly  being told to get down to your underwear to get measurements, she gave you a peek into the ideas that were brewing in her mind, getting your input along the way.  After about an hour of being measured and pinned, you imagined this is what the models feel like on Project Runway.

“Alright sweetie, I think Sebastian is done, and I’ve got what I need for right now.  I hope I’m not ruining anything but I hope you have a super relaxing afternoon… and I will see you for final tweaks on this dress right before you head out for the evening!  Have fun, honey!”

It was all a blur, but you thanked her for the time spent, and was actually excited to see what was going to come of it in just a few hours.  You went back into the main room of the store and met Sebastian.

“Hey baby girl, you ready for an afternoon of getting pampered and ready for the night?” He kissed your nose before heading back out to the street. “I hope you don’t mind, because, well, makeup and hair really aren’t my big thing, but I’ve got some appointments set up so you can get all dolled up… and I’ve got a meeting about an upcoming project.”

“No, that’s fine babe.  Besides, I think you’d probably be really bored waiting around on me getting ready, plus… I’m not sure what sort of makeup protocol goes with these sorts of events.  I’m glad you’re putting me in able, and far more qualified hands.”

“Okay good.  Well I believe your ride is here to whisk you off… enjoy your afternoon, my queen.”  Sebastian kissed your hand, and helped you into the car before doing an about face to get in the waiting car behind it.

The blush on your face stayed in place for quite a while.  Your driver dropped you off at a day spa, where a whole package of events was planned.  Starting with a massage, your stress of not knowing what to expect the rest of the day melted away.  Next was getting your hair done, and finally your makeup.  Not even when you got ready for the big dance in high school, or even your cousin’s wedding did you ever get this gussied up.  Turning around for a final reveal, you almost didn’t recognize yourself, and it took all of your will to not get teared up, and messing your makeup.

A stylist arrived with the designer, gown in hand.  You couldn’t believe the colors of the fabric, and how it felt beautiful sliding over your skin.  The stylist tried several pairs of shoes, finding the perfect look and fit.  A clutch was put in your hand.

“Damn girl, you look amazing.  But we’re missing something... “

“You’re right.  What could it be?”

Sebastian rounded the corner into your dressing area, and gave a long slow whistle as he eyed you up and down.  The dress hugged your curves in the right spots, and hid the others that you were iffy about.  You actually felt comfortable in your skin, the gown making it feel even better.

“You look…”  You could tell he was searching for the right words, smirking when he picked it out. “Phenomenal.  Gorgeous. Sexy as hell.”

Feeling quite warm at the compliments, you gave him a once-over, noticing the details.  Sebastian’s bowtie was the same fabric as your gown, and the shirt a complimenting color.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.  You know I love you in tuxes….”  Your tongue unconsciously  licked your lips.

“Ladies, you’re right, I think I know what it is missing though.”  Sebastian pulled a blue box from his pocket, opening it in front of you.  “I had a little help picking out what would accent this dress, but I think you make it look perfect.”  A thin necklace with a delicate pendant, encrusted in jewels was placed around your neck.  You fingered it gingerly, looking in the mirror.  Knowing that these events, celebrities often are showcasing items like dresses, tuxedos, and jewelry from various designers, you tried to not get down about having to give it all back at the end of the night.  As Sebastian fastened the clasp, he whispered in your ear.

“Did you just say you loved me?”

Your knees went weak. He said it in a tone that he KNEW would cause you to stutter.  He is the cat who loves playing with the mouse before going in for the kill.  The look you gave him was akin to deer in headlights. It was too early to say such things.  You didn’t just SAY that.  You even clarified with “in tuxes.” Trying to dig your way out of this hole that you were sinking into, he saved you at the last moment with another whisper in your ear.

“Well I love you in this dress, baby girl.”  He kissed the shell of your ear before grabbing your hand to do a twirl for him and the small audience.  The designer and stylist clapped and whistled, sending your confidence soaring.  You thanked them both for everything this afternoon, and said you hoped to do them proud tonight.  

You hadn’t realized just how much time was spent getting dressed, because you noticed it was getting dark outside, and Sebastian’s phone buzzed.

“Hey babe, it is time to hit the road, are you ready?”

You quickly hugged everyone involved in this amazing transformation, and were ushered outside to the waiting car.  Sebastian helped you inside, and then sat next to you, holding your hand.  Your other hand’s fingers idly fingered the pendant hanging from around your neck. For some reason though, you were a little nervous.

“Seb? What is our signal for tonight? I… I’m starting to get a little nervous.”

“How about... being cold? Maybe something like ‘I’m a little chilly, I could really use some hot cocoa’?”

You involuntarily shivered.  Nerves were starting to get the best of you.

Sebastian chuckled and kissed your knuckles.  “You’re going to do great.  Just remember the signal.  I’ll be there with you the whole time, if something happens to my queen, I will be within mere footsteps to save m’lady.”

You nodded, and squeezed his hand.  The car slowed to a stop at a fancy looking building.  A few photographers lingered outside, snapping photos of the arrivals to the event.  Sebastian climbed out of the car, and leaned in to help you scoot out, and make a graceful exit.  Upon getting upright, he offered his elbow as you looped your arm into it, smiling for the cameras as each hollered to look in various directions.  Sensing your literal chilliness, he nodded to the photographers and guided you inside the warm building with his hand on your lower back.  Shortly past the front door was a carpet and backdrop, with a number of other photographers waiting patiently to photograph all those who strolled along the carpet to the ballroom entrance.

“Sebastian! Over here!”

He offered up his million dollar smile and walked toward the carpet.  You’d helped at a few events, none of this caliber, but similar enough to know that plus ones stood off to the side of the backdrop, allowing photos to be taken, and questions to be asked about thoughts regarding the organization and the work they do, what they happen to be wearing, upcoming projects, etc. You held back as Sebastian’s hand guided your back again, but you held steady, shaking your head, then nodding to him to go ahead.  It was his moment, not yours.  He was the one they wanted to see, to have a moment of his time.

He smiled as the flashbulbs flickered, looking in random directions at various lenses.  His brow furrowed though, when he saw you standing alone, off to the side.  Even if the photogs didn’t care, he did, and stepped away toward you for a moment, pulling you to the carpet, and into his side.  

“Sebastian! Is this your girlfriend? What’s her name? What are you two wearing?”

“That gown is gorgeous!  Love how it matches!”

“Y/N Y/L/N! Are you excited to be in New York for Christmas?  Big plans?”

The question caught you off-guard.  You weren’t expecting someone to know who you were, but they were kind enough to include you in the craziness of the carpet.

You smiled to the cameras.  “It has been a wonderful visit so far.  I haven’t a clue what else is going on during my trip, but your city is lovely!”  

A journalist asked whom you were wearing, and asked you to give a 360.  You answered enthusiastically, giving a slow twirl and a pose for the paparazzi.  If you didn’t feel like you were absolutely glowing while the stylists were working on you earlier, you certainly were now.  Any negative butterflies you had waiting to go in vanished, and you felt like the belle of the ball, literally, with shutters clicking and flash bulbs snapping.

“Hey Sebastian, your lady here is stealing your spotlight!”

A round of chuckles came from the press as the flashes of light continued.  A round of “Awww!”s came from the crowd as he showed a little PDA, kissing your cheek before nodding at the photographers and guiding you off of the carpet.

“Alright my little ham, I thought you were nervous?”  Sebastian chuckled in your ear as you entered the event hall. People everywhere were mingling, chatting with yet more media types, and networking with everyone in various fields, all there to celebrate the cause.  Sebastian mingled, you on his arm, nibbling on finger foods and drinking champagne.  A few more photos happened with the both of you, including a few shots for Seb’s Instagram, tagging you and the designer.  You tagged your stylist as well… might as well give credit where credit is due, right?  You also took some selfies with Sebastian to send to family and friends.  This was the most elegant you had ever been dressed, and you knew everyone back home would get a kick out of it as well.

The half hour Sebastian recommended staying turned into nearly 3 hours, with a little bit of dancing (oh yes, he twirled you around the floor in a waltz, and even attempted a tango before turning bright red after stepping on his own feet repeatedly), more finger food, and meeting a number of Seb’s acquaintances, including a few in the hospitality/restaurant industry. After a little champagne, not only were you piping up into conversations, but you also were starting them.  You had so many questions regarding how it all works, inevitably telling stories about Mama J, and her plans, and how you wished to help.  You gained valuable insight, and even a few phone numbers/email addresses to talk further in a less-party setting.  For as cut-throat as the world may seem sometimes, everyone you talked to had huge hearts.  It didn’t really surprise you though, Sebastian always seems to surround himself with amazing people. Smart, funny, genuine people.  

In his eyes, you were one of them.  He was beaming, watching you come out of your shell after being so nervous on the ride over. Seeing that you were putting yourself out there, getting the info you were after, and networking. He was so excited, watching you get excited about helping out Mama J.  He noticed you intently listening, all while taking mental notes as you fingered the pendant around your neck.

The crowd began to thin, and you were collecting business cards and contact info from your new acquaintances.  You thanked everyone for their input, and profusely thanked Sebastian for giving you the opportunity to do this, despite your initial reservations.  As the car arrived to take you back home, you curled into his side, him holding his arm around your shoulders and resting his cheek atop your head.

“You have a good evening, baby girl?”  Sebastian whispered before kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah,” curling up tighter with him, “It’s kind of fun playing dress-up with all this.” Your fingers were lightly touching the collar of your gown, sliding over your necklace, and to the other side, feeling the fabric again.  “You know some really great people, Seb. And I feel like I got a lot of good info to help out Mama J.  I’m so excited, I just need to figure out how to make it all work, maybe save up a little bit extra for her to make it easier.” You bit your lip, thinking. “IF she’ll let me.”

“Mama J is lucky to have you.  Lot of people were asking about you, you made a pretty good first impression. So… I have another question for you then, Miss Popular… some friends of mine are having a little friends Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow night. Would you want to come with? Much smaller than this AND you don’t have to get all dressed up, if you don’t want to.”

“You mean I can’t wear this again tomorrow?”

“Sorry baby girl, you can’t be seen wearing the same thing twice.”  You both laughed.

“Okay.  I’m a little sad I don’t get to play dress up again, but I’ll go.”

Digging the phone out of your clutch, you started scrolling through the notifications that had piled up during the event.  A few texts from Y/F/N came up, saying she wanted more photos of you in that dress, then another of “The two of you are trending on Twitter, some of the photos of you in that amazing gown already are online! You are such a show off!”

A few photos of Sebastian and yourself were being passed around on Instagram and Twitter.  You double-tapped, and commented on a few about what a wonderful evening it was, how it was a pleasure to be there.  You noticed a few candid shots of you that Seb slipped in. Not even sure when he shot them, you looked up at him, giant smirk on his face as he watched you scroll through.  Tears were threatening to escape your eyes. Profile head shots of you talking with people, full-body shots of you laughing while chatting with someone else.  You looked like you were meant to be there, like it was nothing new.

“So beautiful, she is my everything. I am so lucky. <3”

He pulled you in tight and kissed the top of your head again. “It’s true, baby girl. You look amazing tonight, more so than you always do.  I know you aren’t supposed to talk about exes,” Sebastian paused for a second, closing his eyes, opening them to meet yours again, “But in the past, I always was compelled to keep relationships quiet. With you, I want to shout it from the rooftops. I WANT to show you.. US… off.”

Without a second thought, you pulled his face down to yours and kissed him fervently.

Pulling apart, both of you shared a dazed stare, catching your breath.  Something set Sebastian off again, kissing you deeply, leaving you feeling like a couple of horny teenagers in the backseat of the car making out.  Between kisses, he whispered things in your ear, causing you to blush with every kiss.

“You are beautiful.”

“You are so smart, and funny…”

“You are my queen.”

“You are my everything.”

The last kiss lasted until you felt the car slow as it pulled to a corner, and you slid apart, smoothing out your hair and gown.  Sebastian hopped out of the car and ran around to the other side, opening the door and helping you out. Upon stepping on the curb, Sebastian shut the door and started guiding you toward his building, but stopping a moment.

“Hold on a sec, there has been something I’ve wanted to to do for a while…” A wolfish grin spread upon his lips.  He grabbed you around your midsection, pulling you up and slinging you over his shoulder, fireman-style. You squealed, laughing as he carried you to the building, your fists playfully smacking his back.  Getting you back, he smacked you on the bottom, making you gasp and squeal more.  

“How DARE you treat your queen in such a manner!” you feigned shock, but truly were aghast as he playfully turned his head and nipped at your gown-covered behind.  Reaching down, you smacked him on the butt as he carried you into the elevator. The two of you couldn’t stop laughing on the ride up the floors. Once the doors opened, he continued carrying you to the door, balancing you precariously as he unlocked the door.  As soon as he could get the two of you inside, he kicked the door shut behind him, carrying you to the bedroom.  Gingerly, he plopped you on the bed, crawling on top of you to continue the kissing that was going on in the car.  Things got pretty heated, until you pushed Sebastian back, giving you a concerned look.

“Babe, we need to get out of these clothes. I’d hate to rip that tuxedo right off of you…”

“Good point, don’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours…”

Pushing Sebastian up, you undid his tie, sliding it from his neck and draping it over the chair.  Next came the jacket, and his shirt.  Sebastian couldn’t take it, turning you around to slowly unhook your necklace, placing it on the dresser, along with the gown, kissing your shoulders as they became bare.  Stepping out of the dress, you gently placed it over the chair, as Sebastian did with the rest of his tuxedo.  Immediately the two of you dove into bed, kissing and giggling.

“Do you have an early morning tomorrow?”

“Nope, Christmas Eve and Day are off, why do you ask?”

You kissed along Sebastian’s jawline, and whispered against his ear. “I think you’re in for a long night.  Think you can handle it?”

Sebastian’s eyes darkened, looking deep into yours.  “You have no idea what you are in for, baby girl…”

Part 6

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