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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago

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I’m Always Curious Part Thirty One

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Warnings: Cursing and some angst my bad Summary: Eli knew as well as I did how hard it was for me to relax after a Tag and Run, let alone a manual one.

“I’ve seen you pull some reckless shit, but launching yourself into the middle of an active and radioactive debris field with a ship on the verge of breakdown under you, that’s… That’s gotta be top five,” Eli commented as Pollard scanned me. I shot him a tired look. “I didn’t have any other options.” “I know,” He shook his head, “But...Damn, kid.” “I’m back, I’m one piece, so maybe save the lecture for some occasion where I wind up in a biobed.”

“Heart rate is still a little high,” Pollard commented, stepping around in front of me and shining a light in my eyes. I startled a bit at the sudden flash before I settled.

“And when was the last time you slept?” She added, brow furrowing. “I feel like if you really wanted to know, you would’ve asked before I piloted.” Pollard gave me a stern look that probably should’ve made me wilt, but adrenaline was still coursing through my body. “How do you feel?” She asked, a little imperious. “Like I’ll be happy if I never get behind the controls of an attack fighter again.” That made her smile a bit, at least. She nodded. “I want to check on you again before you leave the ship, make sure that heart rate is back down where it’s supposed to be.” “Yes ma’am.” “And get some sleep. I am not above sedating you.” “...I believe that.” “You might wanna get that hypo ready now, doc—” “Can it, Durling,” I cut him off, reaching for my jacket. He gave me a disapproving look as I stood. Eli knew as well as I did how hard it was for me to relax after a Tag and Run, let alone a manual one. If I lay in the dark, my mind would just run through what I had done, all of the ways that it could’ve gone wrong. I was sure that this experience was going to be no different; if anything, the possibilities for a different outcome were increased. “You heading for the gym?” Durling asked as we walked out of the medbay. It was a fair question, but as comfortable as my civvies were, I certainly wasn’t prepared to be sparring in them. “Nah, not this time. You got a report to file?” I asked. “Yeah— Hey,” Eli reached out, taking light hold of my shoulder, “I need to talk to you.” “Look, I will get some sleep—” “No, not about that,” He shook his head. He glanced around the hall, quiet as someone passed us before he turned back to me, “It’s about my assignment after this.” “...Okay,” I frowned. “They’re giving me the Pinnacle.” Confusion melted from my face and I grinned, socking him in the shoulder, unable to contain my excitement. “Eli! That’s amazing— Why didn’t you tell me before? Oh, congratulations!” I squealed, drawing him in for a hug. He chuckled, patting my shoulder before leaning away. “We had a job to do first,” He shook his head. “That’s why you weren’t putting the tag down yourself, huh?” I asked. “There’s something else.” “What else could there possibly be?” “I need a first officer.” “Oh. So who are your candidates?” Eli’s brows rose, and he tipped his head forward a bit. Realization washed over me slowly, and I found myself fighting the urge to shake my head and ask him what the hell he was thinking. “What?… Eli—” “Hear me out,” He pleaded softly, “You know my every move, you get how I operate, you don’t let me get away with shit, you know when to push and when to pull… And I swear I did not mean that the way it sounded.” “Bullshit.” “See?” He pointed out before tacking on, “Look, don’t answer me right now. I know it’s a big decision, just… Just think about it.” I gave him a small nod in concession, a murmur of promise that I would. But as I watched his retreating back, I already knew what my answer was. --

The canteen was basically deserted. I walked over to the replicators, leaning heavily against the wall beside it and scrubbing my hand over my face. “Black coffee, four shots of espresso— splash of caramel creamer.”

“Are you planning on having a heartbeat after that?” I did, but mine skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “The caramel is just to sweeten it a bit,” I justified, “Doesn’t taste the same as the Una Matrix, so I’ve gotta make do.” I glanced back to find him leaning against a table nearby. “Everything alright on the Bridge?” I asked, turning back to the replicator. “Fine,” He conceded, “And the shuttle bay?” “Uh…” I straightened, taking hold of the mug, “Well, Jett is cursing my name. Apparently Eli’s messed up a number of phaser cannons but having a damaged warp nacelle and a punctured cabin really takes the cake.” “Is that much coffee advisable after what you’ve just done? I’d think some rest would be in order.” “And Dr. Pollard would agree with you, but I can never sleep after tags,” I admitted. I cleared my throat, “So, how... “ It had been way too long to ask about how he was, hadn't it? We’d been on the same ship for hours now— “How’s um— Spock?” Christopher’s brows rose a little. “He’s...Taking leave.” I frowned. “That’s unlike him.” “Well, the war took its toll on the crew, such as it was.” I nodded a little, leaning back against the wall again, “I can understand that.” Christopher’s head tipped to the side, brow furrowing. “How so? I mean no disrespect, Commander, but you were very much in the thick of it.” “Yeah, but,” I lowered my eyes to my drink, “You all...Had to wait, I guess. You got your news about people that you were concerned about in a delayed fashion, and from a distance— all secondhand, second rate. Maybe some of the crew held themselves back from reaching out to people, not sure how they’d take it, not wanting to distract them... That time, that distance, it can wear someone down.” It was a moment before I heard Chris take in a deep breath. “We should talk,” he said softly. “We are talking,” I pointed out. When I glanced up to look at him, I found an unimpressed little frown affixed to his lips. I rolled my eyes a little, pushing away from the wall and nodding for him to follow me: “C’mon.” I was relieved to hear his footfalls behind mine without a moment’s hesitation. “I know where the quiet spots are and I’m willing to bet you haven’t found them yet.” “By Ensign Tilly’s account, you were only on this ship for a couple of days,” Pike commented. “Yes,” I nodded, “And in that time, she told me where all the cool kids hang out. From there, I used those tips, the ship’s directory, and the process of elimination to find a few quiet spots.” I peered into a small suite and found it empty. The outer wall was wrapped with a window. There was a desk with a reading lamp on one end of the room and a loveseat and side table on the other end. “This alright?” I asked, nodding inside. Pike peered around before stepping in fully. I took that as a yes and followed him in, the door sliding shut behind us. “What’d you come in here for?” He asked, looking around. “Studying, once. I had to brush up on my Klingon while I was aboard,” I told him, sitting down on the loveseat. I set my coffee aside for a moment, shrugging my jacket off and draping it over the arm of the seat before picking my cup up again. I watched Christopher drift around the room, taking it in, his fingers trailing the wood of the desk. I leaned back against the cushions, taking a long pull from the coffee and wincing from the taste. “Too much coffee?” “Just not as good as the Una Matrix,” I justified. I glanced up at him to find him leaning back against the desk, arms folded across his chest. For a moment the both of us just… looked. It reminded me of the moments in his Ready Room before we beamed down to Sandblossom— but we were so different now. “So who told you?” I asked. “Una.” “How’d that go?” Christopher averted his eyes, tipping his head forward a bit, “Well, she… Sat me down, laid out Spock’s timeline, let me know that you were on the Pinnacle.” “Can I ask when that was?” “You’d been aboard for about a month.” That couldn’t have been very long after Una had called me, then. I could only imagine her demeanor when she’d told him. I nodded a bit. “I don’t… I do not know how much Admiral Cornwell told you, but she—” “Kat mentioned before she left that she had you give your word not to contact the Enterprise.” “Okay.” “Though I am a little surprised you kept to it,” Christopher admitted. I considered that for a moment, fingers tapping along the side of my mug. “Sometimes I couldn’t believe it either. I hated it. But...Cornwell told me that you were determined to come back to Somonia for me, when you heard about the negotiations—” I watched as Chris pushed himself away from the desk, drifting over to look out of the window. I saw the tight pull of his shoulders, the wringing of his hands where he had them clasped behind his back. “Besides that,” I added quietly, “I was sure that being so removed from the war was weighing on you all in some estimation. And after Una contacted me…” I shook my head, “I'm not sure how I would've handled speaking with anyone else from the Enterprise.” Christopher frowned, and I could see the question forming as he turned to look at me. I raised a hand to halt it: “We’re fine. We spoke when the ship was docked on Earth recently.” “How long were you two out of contact?” “A while,” I answered flatly. Christopher shook his head a little bit. I slouched down against the cushions. “Why didn’t—...” I started before I stopped myself, cringing. “What would you have wanted me to say?” He asked knowingly. “Anything, Christopher! I didn’t even know that you knew.” I set my coffee aside and rested my elbows against my knees, running my hands over my face. “I didn’t think you would want to hear from us after we left you there.” He said it so softly, with such abject confidence; it nearly split me in two. I lifted my head, brow drawn, disbelieving of what I’d heard, only to find that Christopher had turned back to the window, chin tipped toward his chest. “...After you—… No,” I sighed, pushing myself off of the loveseat, “No, you didn’t.” “We should’ve turned around,” The assertion followed fast, his voice tight, “We would’ve found you— We would’ve been in range for the war, none of this would’ve happened.” I stopped a couple of steps from him. There was a time when I wouldn’t have hesitated in reaching out to touch him, to draw him in, but I wasn’t sure anymore. “I saw the pictures that you got from Starbase 329,” I said softly, “It was a crater, Christopher, there was no way you could’ve known. And Choholl and I were so far underground for stretches at a time, you may not have been able to find us, even if you had turned around.” He turned his head toward me a little, but did not meet my eye. “I considered reaching out,” He admitted softly, “But I didn’t know what to say. ‘Hi’ seemed...inappropriate, and… And I was worried.” “About what?” “You. What you said, about not wanting to distract someone, keeping yourself at a distance…” He trailed off, nodding, “Does take its toll.” I watched him for a moment, considering this. Christopher had thought about me. I supposed that that was some consolation, at least; I hadn’t been alone in my hours spent curious and lonely. “So,” I said lightly, turning to face the window as he had, “What happens after this mission?” “Back to the Enterprise, ideally,” Christopher answered; his voice was firmer now, a little more self-sure now that I'd turned to a topic he was likely more comfortable with. I felt him turn to look at me as he asked, “Do you...Know where you’ll be stationed next?” “No. Command did mention something about reinstating Larilia to the Federation, now that Choholl has everything under control. They’re going to need a new attaché, they asked if I’d be interested.” I felt him tense beside me, “And what did you say?” “That I’d retire first.” He huffed a soft laugh, and I smiled a little. My mind drifted to the offer given to me earlier, and I shook my head a little bit. “What is it?” He asked. “Nothing.” “Are you sure?” I hesitated, “Eli is being given the Pinnacle. He needs a first officer and he… He offered me the position.” I turned to look up at Christopher, and I saw the split second of surprise before he schooled his face into a small smile. “What are you thinking?” He asked. I shook my head, turning away again. “I’m going to tell him ‘no’. Just haven’t worked out how yet.” “Why are you turning him down?” “Well, he needs someone— You know, more like Una. I am not like Una.” “... Well, you did take Onafuwa’s one-day intensive.” It took me a moment, and I opened my mouth to respond, but I could not help the laugh that bubbled up. I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to quiet the sound, but Christopher laughed, too. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like it used to— light, and warm. I looked at him, and found that grin that I’d missed; the crinkling around his eyes and the dimples. And as we quieted, as we found one another just looking again, I felt my eyes prickle with tears. I hurried to look away again, turning back to where I’d set my coffee and walking back to it. I settled down onto the loveseat, taking a long pull from the mug and using it to cover a small sniffle. I expected Christopher to stay where he was, but he followed, sitting down beside me. He was close— but then, the loveseat was small, he had no choice but to be close. “You really ought to rest,” He said quietly. “I can’t,” I shook my head, “After one of those—” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, “My head just doesn’t settle right.” “Is it always like this?” I nodded a bit. I felt Christopher shift beside me a little before I heard him mutter, “C’mere.” I glanced over and did a double-take, my heart leaping into my throat when I found him leaned back, his arm thrown over the back of the loveseat. “What?” “Come here,” He urged more softly, nodding me closer. I narrowed my eyes at him before I set the coffee down, shifting a little closer. I was nearly pressed fully against his side this way, from knee to chest. “Put your head down,” He urged, nodding to his shoulder. “Chris—” “Just try it.” I huffed, irritated but did as he said. His arm curled around my shoulders. “Close your eyes.” “If you really think is is going to work—” “So stubborn,” He mumbled, resting his chin atop my head and my eyes fluttered shut at the comforting weight, “Stubborn as stone.” If Christopher thought that this was going to calm me down, he was severely mistaken; my heart was pounding out of my chest, my stomach was twisting itself into knots. I hadn’t felt worked up like this since after Koutov. Christopher’s fingers trailed over my shoulder softly, and I found myself reaching out and setting my hand on his jacket. “...The blue’s...Different,” I commented. “Wanna command the ship, you’ve gotta wear the uniform,” He pinched the sleeve of my t-shirt as he said so. I rolled my eyes a little. “Good thing I don’t wanna command, then,” I muttered. Christopher’s chest shook with a quiet laugh. “Gotta say… it is a good thing you’re turning Durling down, if only for the fact that you seem to fight so much,” He said. “It’s all in good fun… Mostly in good fun.” “The two of you seem close.” I glanced up at Christopher. “We’re friends,” I nodded. “Close your eyes,” He muttered, poking my shoulder when he saw me looking at him. I huffed, doing as he said. My fingers absently skated over a section of the gold braiding covering the zipper on the jacket, unable to keep still. “That wasn’t an accusation, by the way,” He added. “Sounded like one.” “Wasn’t.” “Mm.” I wasn’t sure what it was— the hum of the ship around us, or the steady rise and fall of his chest under my hand, or just the feeling of being by Christopher again, but I felt myself relaxing, eyelids and limbs growing heavy. “We should— I should finish my coffee,” I mumbled after a while. “Why’s that?” Christopher murmured. “‘M gonna fall asleep.” “Good.” I smiled a little, “‘M gonna fall asleep on you.” “You’re already falling asleep on me.” “So...Should move.” “You comfortable?” “Mmmmmhm.” “Okay.” That okay was all I needed. I cozied deeper into Christopher’s side, unabashedly cuddling up against him, and I felt his hand smooth soothingly over my arm. In my haze and weariness, the tears that I’d managed to push down before welled up. Now, though, I felt too tired to hide them again. A few leaked from my eyes, and I pressed my face into his shoulder. “I missed you so much,” I admitted quietly, hand fisting in his jacket. I felt his grip tighten on me, his other hand covering mine, thumb skating over my knuckles. “I know,” Christopher whispered; I could feel his lips quivering as they brushed my temple, “I missed you, too.” Tag list: @angels-pie ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles ; @inmyowncorner ; @tardis-23 ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec ; @hypnobananaangelfish ; @elen-aranel ; @blueeyesatnight ; @hotchswifey

#I'm Always Curious #captain pike x reader #Captain Pike x You #Captain Pike/You #Captain Pike/Reader #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike/reader #Christopher Pike x You #Christopher Pike fic #Christopher Pike imagine #Captain Pike fic #Captain Pike Imagine

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irkimatsu · 4 years ago

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Okay, after way too much delay - it's my Eurovision 2021 Final Ranking! This took me a while for a lot of factors - took extra hours at work to make sure I could get time off this week, some recent family events... and most relevantly, the fact that this year is so damn good that no matter what, I knew someone was going to get ripped off by ending up somewhere in the bottom half. Just know that being toward the bottom of the list doesn't necessarily mean I dislike it, especially this year - it just means I like other things more. This year is going to be an absolute bloodbath. I am both excited and terrified.

Try not to take my ranking too seriously, by the way - I'm an American who unironically listens to stuff like Scooch and Dolly Style. I'm not exactly a seasoned music critic. I just know what sort of music makes the happiness center of my brain light up, what the hell is music theory

Ranking made with the sorter at http://esc.gerbear.com/sorter2021.htm, then slightly adjusted when it put some songs concerningly low on the list. Okay, so I cheated a little

Firstly, in the interest in completion - if Belarus didn't get disqualified, they'd be in the big fat 40 rank, with a big bold "Hate" right above. Fuck that song. I've only listened to it once and am so glad I have no obligation to acknowledge it any further. Those fucking lyrics. Mother of Christ. Fuck you guys.

I also offer my condolences to Armenia for their having to bow out this year. I'm sure whatever you guys sent, it couldn't have possibly been worse than "Chains On You".

Now, for the songs that actually matter:

Indifferent:

39 – Spain - “Voy a quedarme” by Blas Cantó: Welp, already I’m gonna get shot. I can’t remember how this song sounds at all. I know it’s tender and genuine and sweet and everything… I just… kinda don’t care. Nothing to say. I liked his entry last year even more, and even that was pretty damn dull. Just not destined to be a Blas Cantó fan, I guess!

38 - North Macedonia – “Here I Stand” by Vasil: I’m with most other rankings I’ve seen; what the hell is this? I at least kinda remember it, which is more than I can say for poor Spain, but oh my god it’s so boring. I really liked “You” last year! What the hell happened, Vasil?

37 – Albania - “Karma” by Anxhela Peristeri: Another “oops” from me, huh. It’s another one I immediately forget about the instant it ends. I at least don’t remember it boring the crap out of me, hence it placing higher than Spain and Macedonia, but I still can’t say anything nice about it – or anything at all, really – so I’ll leave it this low. I acknowledge that I’m in the minority, I won’t protest if it qualifies, but personally, it’s not my pick.

36 – Georgia – “You” by Tornike Kipiani: Give him points for passion, I suppose! At least I’m not laughing at him like I was last year. On the other hand, less ridiculous also means more boring. Points for earnestness, but this is just another song that goes right over my head.

35 – Portugal – “Love Is On My Side” by The Black Mamba: An English song from Portugal? That’s new. Too bad it hasn’t rescued the song from the darkest depths of Boring. I will confess that I spice it up a little by associating it with Homura from Osomatsu-san, thus rescuing it from the deepest pits of my ranking list… but it’s still stuck down here. Portugal and I have never gotten along well Eurovision-wise. I’ve come to accept that.

34 – Slovenia – “Amen” by Ana Soklič: I’m gonna call this a song that I respect more than I like. She’s got a great voice, I can’t deny that… but when I’m ranking this purely based on what I’d go out of my way to listen to, this one falls flat. I warned you at the beginning that I have no taste! I’m not normally into straightforward ballads, the religious connotations are lost on me… this isn’t the song for me.

33 – Austria – “Amen” by Vincent Bueno: Back to back “Amen”s! Tip for getting me to like your Eurovision entry, apparently, is “don’t call your song Amen”. It’s a ballad, earnest and trying but overall not my type of music. I’m running out of ways to say that. Breakup song, a tad bitter, we’ve all heard this sort of song so many times before. It doesn’t stand out, and I think it’d be a waste of a spot in the final.

At least, I thought this was a breakup song when I first wrote this, but apparently it’s about the death of a loved one…? I would say that makes me hate the bitterness, but… given how I’m handling a death in my own family right now… god, I don’t know. I just can’t handle this song, not at any time but especially not now. It doesn’t even provide catharsis like a song later on in the list. It stays this low regardless of its meaning, I just don’t like it, I’m sorry, moving on.

…” 'Cause it all feels like you didn't even try to save us, all this time wasted on a lie”… ugh, my personal problems…

32 – Switzerland – “Tout l'Univers” by Gjon’s Tears: Another one I respect more than I like, and another opinion I’m gonna get my ass beaten for, I’m sure. I respect the artistry, but this is so far removed from anything I’d ever listen to on purpose. It might have landed even lower if I wasn’t afraid of pissing people off. I’ll understand if it wins, but I’ll also be hoping for most anything else.

31 – Russia – “Russian Woman” by Manizha: I don’t get it. Sometimes it’s pleasant enough to listen to, but overall I don’t get it. It’s unique, I’ll give it that! I understand why it won its national final, and why so many people enjoy it! But for me, it doesn’t quite cross that line between “interesting” and “enjoyable”. I'm not Russian - this isn't for me, and it wasn't supposed to be. Though I will confess that there may be some bias at play here. God, I miss Little Big…

Okay:

30 – Estonia – “The Lucky One” by Uku Suviste: The voice is okay, the music is okay, I like how the bitterness is handled here more than in Austria’s… but this is still as high as I can go on this one. It’s serviceable, but this year has so much better to offer.

29 – Sweden – “Voices” by Tusse: Sweden really does like sending the same song over and over again, huh? I don’t hate it, but it does strike me as a lesser “Too Late For Love”, sound wise. Sweden almost never takes risks, and it’s causing me to look over them more and more with every year. I respect it too much to put it in the “Indifferent” category, but given how the rest of my ranking played out, this the best I can do for it. (But again, do not trust the opinions of someone who teethed on cheesy Europop and fondly remembers when Sweden was flooded with the stuff…)

28 – Belgium – “The Wrong Place” by Hooverphonic: Once again, Hooverphonic help Belgium fill the role of Eurovision’s “Most Likely To Appear In A Bond Movie” song. It’s fine. It’s a song! I don’t know what else to say about it! It does its job well enough, it’s just not really a job I care for that much.

27 – Ireland – “Maps” by Lesley Roy: It’s cute enough! A cute little radio tune. It’s no “Story Of My Life”, though. If “22” couldn’t qualify then this probably won’t, either, and I can’t say I’ll miss it all that much. Still pleasant enough when it comes up on the shuffle.

26 – Bulgaria – “Growing Up Is Getting Old” by Victoria: I admit it, this ranks as high as it does because of anime and that’s basically it. If I was still doing plain category sortings this would have landed straight in “Biased”. My favorite anime is about a bunch of 20-somethings learning that growing up sucks and trying as hard as possible to avoid it, and I first heard this song around the same time that I watched that show’s relatively melancholy season finale, so it ended up sticking with me on that note. Don’t have much to say about it musically, just that it makes me picture sextuplets crying and that’s one of my hobbies, so I’ll grant it an “Okay”. (It may also worth noting that if I heard this song before 2019, in the state my life was in before then it would have probably left me too inconsolable to listen to it more than once. Growing up is growing old indeed!

…it’s also worth noting that after I wrote this blurb, a major event happened that really enforced that growing up is getting old, so I listened to this quite a bit for a few days, among some other non-Eurovision songs. I’m probably gonna have an emotional breakdown on Thursday when this one starts. So, um, look out for that, guess. Between this one and Austria’s, I swear to god…)

25 – Italy – “Zitti e buoni” by Måneskin: I’ve been trying to get this one to rank higher, I really have, but its inability to crack the top 20 just says a lot about how damn good this year is. It sounds great, it’s very well done, and I wouldn’t hate to see it win! It’s earned its popularity. Everything holding it back in my own personal ranking is just that, personal – I do lose something when I can’t sing along or understand the lyrics, and there’s another rock song this year that I like way better. Still wishing you guys the best!

24 – Netherlands – “Birth Of A New Age” by Jeangu Macrooy: This song has a great style that I respect a lot. The message, the vibe – even if it’s not a culture I’m a part of, I feel and appreciate the hell out of it, and I really hope it does well. I don’t understand why so many people seem to think it’s not interesting! It may not be the sort of thing I’d go out of my way to listen to, but I’m glad it’s here. Catch me singing out “Yu no man broko mi” on Saturday! It’s been a while since I’ve given a shit about a host country’s entry, so I’m really glad for this one.

23 – Romania - “Amnesia” by Roxen: I’ll admit something else unpopular – I hated “Alcohol You” last year. Didn’t see what the big deal was at all. It sounded okay, I guess, but the lyrics were so pretentious and awful, and I’ve never liked the topic of “I love you even though you have no redeeming qualities whatsoever and you make me feel like shit”. But it seems like in that year, Roxen has discovered that self-love is important, actually, and it’s not worth it spending your time on some shitbag who consistently disappoints you. I appreciate it for that alone. Character growth! Plus, I feel the whole thing of “forgetting how to love yourself because everyone around you sucks”. It’s not the perfect song, not by a long shot, but it has a nice melody, and Roxen has a nice voice. It’s good to hear her using that voice on something I don’t find obnoxious.

22 – Norway – “Fallen Angel” by TIX: Okay, I’ll admit it, this is one where I watched the live video the first time I heard the song, and I was too busy laughing at his outfit to take the song seriously. Jesus Christ, dude, what the hell. Well, that’s Eurovision for you, and the more I listened to it, the more I admitted to myself that I’m a sucker for “I love you but letting you go for your own good, not sure what I ever offered you in the first place” type songs. Knowing the song is inspired by his own disability and self-loathing really twists that knife, to the point where I feel bad that I almost threw this at an anime character. I know I’m usually cold on songs that try to evoke emotions about the singer’s personal problems – Germany 2018, and this year’s Austrian entry – but this one really works for me. Only reason it’s in “Okay” tier is because of its competition – it’d rank way higher in a weaker year.

21 – France – “Voila” by Barbara Pravi: I like a good waltz, I guess! It’s a unique number, and the French language sounds nice, especially with the music. It’s yet another example of how this year is filled with so many interesting entries that I appreciate the hell out of. God bless this diverse year! (Or maybe everything just sounds so good to me because last year’s cancellation left me in withdrawal.) I expect a really nice performance for this one – this song isn’t one you can perform while just standing there, especially not during that speedup toward the end.

20 – Australia – “Technicolour” by Montaigne: That song that sounds like it’s about stripping if you don’t know that she’s saying cloaks. (Guilty as charged.) It’s catchy and fun, and I really love it when it first starts… but unfortunately, it does wear out its welcome toward the end of things. It’s a good party song, just a little repetitive. I still like it just fine, and wouldn’t mind seeing her in the final this year! Hope the performance is colorful and sparkly, it’d suit the song well

Like:

19 – Germany – “I Don’t Feel Hate” by Jendrik: I know stereotyping is bad but I was not remotely surprised to find out that Jendrik is gay. This song is pure gay sass, and god, I love every minute of it. I fully expect it to fall on its ass – this wouldn’t make it to the final if it wasn’t an automatic qualifier – but I’ll have a grand old time watching it! The sarcastic lyrics, the cheerful little ukulele, the middle finger costume… this song is a delight. Only thing that I think really brings it down is that weird spoken bit that interrupts the song. That’s so annoying, brings me right out of it. And I did purposely rank it below songs that aren’t complete shitposts. But thank you for your existence, Jendrik, your contribution to Eurovision is much appreciated.

18 – Israel – “Set Me Free” by Eden Alene: I said it this year and I’ll say it again this year, Eden Alene is a goddess of a woman. Absolutely gorgeous. Appreciation for pretty women aside, it’s a fun party song in a sea of fun party songs! I really do like it, I like her voice, but there’s so much else this year that drowns it out – not much stands out here compared to later entries on the list. Still a good song, though.

…and I do not expect for an instant that this is going to make it to the final. …my personal ranking is based on how the song sounds, okay? Just the song. Just the song. Nothing else. Just the song. Anyway…

17 – United Kingdom – “Embers” by James Newman: What’s this? A UK entry I don’t find bland as off-white paint? That doesn’t happen often! I didn’t like his entry last year, romantic ballad bla bla bla whee, but I’m always down for a good party song. It’s a little generic and radio friendly, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fun as hell to sing along with!

16 – Greece – “Last Dance” by Stefania: I really liked last year’s “Supergirl”, but figured it didn’t have too much of a chance because it struck me as being a little too teen poppy to be taken entirely seriously. It seems like Greece thought so, too, because they’ve ramped it up with this year’s entry. They’re not playing around anymore, sending a grand, powerful song that, like “Embers”, is fun as hell to belt. This is another one I’m really looking forward to the live performance for – the music video is gorgeous, and I hope they capture that same majesty on stage!

15 – Moldova – “Sugar” by Natalia Gordienko: Oh, Moldova, I’m so glad you guys decided to be completely batshit again this year. I’ve missed your nonsense so much. Dancing ice cream cones. Cake men. This video is glorious. And the song goes well with the insanity! A catchy dance tune that can only be improved with downright insane staging. Please let the dancing ice cream cones be on stage, I’m begging you

14 – Latvia – “The Moon Is Rising” by Samanta Tina: A unique electronica number backed with a powerful as hell voice. I can see where all the wubbing would get on people’s nerves, but personally, I love it! I love the voice, I love the attitude, Samanta just oozes confidence, and if she doesn’t make it to the final it’s not gonna be because she didn’t give it her goddamn all.

13 – Poland – “The Ride” by RAFAL: Why is this one so unpopular? You people don’t know how to have fun. Yeah, yeah, last year’s “Empires” was a powerful song… but I like my club nonsense much more, so I’m favoring this one. Yet another song that gets me pumped – this whole Contest is gonna leave me with a smile on my face, there’s so much good party music

12 – Azerbaijan – “Mata Hari” by Efendi: Yeah, they’re basically just sending “Cleopatra” again, but “Cleopatra” was so goddamn good that I can’t even blame them for it. This song needed a chance to compete, and I’m glad it’s getting it again this year. I like it so much that I can even forgive the line about being a “godless”. Oh, Europop, don’t you ever change.

11 – Cyprus – “El Diablo” by Elena Tsagrinou: Huh, I didn’t know Cyprus had perfected their Lady Gaga cloning technology. Neat. More seriously, the early 2010’s club vibe of this song is exactly my jam, enough that I can forgive the “I’m in love with a horrible person” theme. (I think I forgive that theme a lot more from catchy party songs than heartfelt ballads I’m actually supposed to feel for.) Hell, I even like the creepy chanting! Sure, it’s a little cheesy, but cheese is always a good ingredient when used in moderation.

(How many songs are we going to get this year, not just in Eurovision, about wanting to fuck devils? I mean, not that I don’t get it… mmm, Akuma Ichimatsu… um. Anyway.)

10 – Czech Republic – “Omaga” by Benny Cristo: And here we enter the top ten of a strong year, where I’d love to see any of them win! Benny, what is with that title. Why. Ah well, like I said earlier, I do like moderate amounts of cheese, and this song is more than fun enough to have earned itself a ridiculous lyric or two. It’s unique, I’ll give it that! The song is just so bouncy and fun that I manage to ignore how pushy the singer is. Another one I expect big things from the staging for.

9 – Lithuania – “Discoteque” by The Roop: Ignoring the current events that surely inspired the song, I do love the more generic “party song for introverts” read on it – if only you knew how many one-person dance parties I’d had in my own house. This song speaks to me deeply. I can’t even begin to call it a joke song; I think it’s doing exactly what it set out to do, and it’s doing it oh so well. God, those synths. Totally okay with dancing alone!

8 – Iceland – “10 Years” by Daði og Gagnamagnið: I want Daði Freyr to adopt me. I don’t even care that he’s younger than me. He’s just such an earnest, fun guy, and I love his 8-bit aesthetic! And come on, he submitted a song about how much he loves his wife! If I ever stop loving this song it’s because my heart shriveled and died. Love isn’t dead, it’s just in chiptune now. I will throw things if this doesn’t make it into the final, do you all have no souls, this is too damn cute

7 – Serbia – “Loco Loco” by Hurricane: Another group I am so excited to see return, because I adored “Hasta La Vista”. I don’t know if I like this one quite as much, but it’s still catchy as hell! I love trying to sing along with it despite not knowing a word of Serbian.

6 – Croatia – “Tick-Tock” by Albina: Another catchy-ass club song! What more can I say? I love how much of this stuff we got this year. I will absolutely be screaming “Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go!” Oh god that was cheesy… I’ve been working on this ranking for too long. Don’t know what else to say about this one, just that I adore it. Just barely missed the top 5.

Love:

5 – Malta – “Je Me Casse” by Destiny: This girl’s got pipes– not surprised to hear she won the Junior contest before! I get major “Toy” vibes from this song, and you all know just how much I adored that one. Aaa, those horns! Expecting big things from you, Destiny! We may have our winner!

4 – San Marino – “Adrenalina” by Senhit – As much of a soft spot I had for last year’s “Freaky”, I don’t think it was gonna make it into the final, unless Senhit had the blessing of the same angels who were looking out for Serhat in 2019. This one, though? San Marino tasted the final two years ago and they are never giving it up again! This song goes hard! Love the song, love the video’s aesthetic, I even kinda like Flo Rida’s rap, even though I’m still baffled by the idea that I have been regularly listening to a song featuring Flo Rida on purpose. I don’t know what he’s doing here but I’m glad he is. Please, please make it to the final, San Marino! You clearly want the hell out of it this year! Favorite club song in a year of amazing club songs.

3 – Finland – “Dark Side” by Blind Channel: After spending about five seconds disappointed that Finland wouldn’t be sending Pandora this year, I gave this song a shot, and was not expecting what it gave me. I feel like an angsty middle schooler again, and it is bliss. This is everything Hatari wanted to be, but unlike Hatari who just confused me, I absolutely love the hell out of this song. …some of those lyrics, though. “27 Club, headshot, we don’t wanna grow up”? Yikes. But as dark and questionable as it might be, I can’t help but get pumped when I hear it. Definitely my favorite rock song of the year – sorry, Italy!

2 – Denmark – “Øve os på hinanden” by Fyr & Flamme: I love you, 1983. I don’t care how dated it is when my entire soul consists of a disco ball. The song’s so damn cute! This is the one member of my top 5 that I’m most terrified of losing – I know it’s not popular, with everyone calling it dated, but my top 5 always has that dated song that I love the hell out of becauseit sounds so classic. The translated lyrics are adorable, too. Even if you guys flame out in the semi, you’ll live on in the disco in my heart.

Favorite:

1 – Ukraine – “Shum” by Go_A: Holy fucking shit. There’s something about the blending of traditional and electronic that gets me hyped – see KEiiNO – and this one does not disappoint. The last minute of this is the best minute of Eurovision this year, and god, the buildup! I don’t even know Ukrainian but I am trying my damnedest to get the lyrics down, phonetically, at least. You know that “dancing goths” meme video? That’s me whenever this song comes on, especially during that speed up. Love the hell out of it. Could Ukraine be on its way to another victory already? I sure hope so, because this song fucking rules. Definitely checking out the rest of the discography someday, if all of their songs are in this folktronica style then they’ve gotta be a treat to listen to. Go Ukraine!

Ideal Qualifiers (favorite of each semi in bold):

Semi 1

Australia

Azerbaijan

Croatia

Cyprus

Israel

Lithuania

Malta

Norway

Romania

Ukraine Semi 2:

Czech Republic

Denmark

Finland

Greece

Iceland

Latvia

Moldova

Poland

San Marino

Serbia

This is definitely not what's going to happen - there is no universe where Switzerland and Sweden don't make it - but it'll be interesting to compare the reality to my hopes.

Let's go, Eurovision 2021

#irk blubbers about nothing #irk talks eurovision 2021

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years ago

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Acutely (coda to 15x13 ‘Destiny’s Child’, Dean/Cas, 2.5k)

ao3 link

Jack said he's sorry, after getting his soul back.

Jack said he's sorry, and he's looking at Dean. They're all looking at Dean.

Jack said he's sorry, and Dean can't take it. It's too much. Like a frog thrown into a boiling pot he hops out, jumping out from the room towards safety. Doing his best not to succumb to the pain.

He can't hide forever, let the wounds fester. It's too much to deal with on his own, though. Can someone help him through it?

It’s no secret, where he hides. Where he ran away to after Jack broke down in an apology. Overwhelmed by the sorrow in the younger boy’s voice; his remorse for actions Dean hadn’t mentioned in so long. Dean barely made it before his knees buckled, collapsing on his bed instead of the floor. Face pressed against the pillow Dean counted his breaths while ignoring the heavy lump sitting in his throat.

He loses track after seventy-five, mumbling ‘one… two… three… four… five…’ over and over until he felt like his feet were farther from the edge than they had been. As he lifts his head, Dean takes stock of himself. Grimaces at how sweat dampens both his shirts, dark fabric clinging annoyingly underneath oppressive denim. And as the knot unwound in his stomach, Dean realizes he hadn’t eaten yet. Hunger gnaws at his awareness, begging for attention. Thinking about food, though, guides his paths towards the kitchen and – ultimately – Jack, again.

There’s not much of an appetite left after that.

Instead he blindly throws off his outer layer, then his undershirt. Bends, clawing at his laces and when they unravel, he yanks them and his socks off, too. Discards his jeans by flinging them into some far corner. Red boxer-briefs are all that remain, for the moment. In the next second Dean reaches for a set of pajamas. Picks the set at the top of the pile. Cowboys riding bucking broncos on the pants while lasso script spells out ‘Save a Horse’ on the shirt. As he pulls it overhead, he hears something shift nearby. Turning, Dean finds Cas watching him from the hallway.

“Crap,” he hisses, tugging the shirt down. Cheeks burning under Cas’s intense gaze, “Ever hear of knocking?” Instincts say he should cover himself, but midway through wrapping arms around his midsection Dean realizes what a ridiculous notion that is. Actions aborted Dean’s fingers twitch before they retake his shirt’s hem. Twisting it as the awkward silence continues. “Cas?”

This breaks Cas from whatever trance he fell under. Cas steps into his room, “Sorry, Dean, you left your door open.”

“Right…” If his hands weren’t busy strangling fabric one would be rubbing a hole into the back of his neck. “I – uh, must’ve forgotten.” Dean finally fights back the static drowning his mind, releasing his shirt hem. “What uh… what’re you doing here?”

“I came to check on you.”

Sweet, but totally despicable. Cas’s earnest tone easily overpowers his crumbling defenses, making the flush across his skin deepen. Lips pursed, Dean dips his eyes so he won’t fall prey to the deadliest of his angel’s weapons. Angel blades have nothing on those baby blues. “Thanks,” he coughs, shrugging, “but I wasn’t the one having a full breakdown five feet from the cookie cereal…” He sits down once more, at the foot of his bed, squeezing his knees. “How is Jack, by the way?”

“He’s calmed, somewhat,” Cas tells him, slowly pacing Dean’s room. Picks up Dean’s stray button-down, loosely folding it while he talks. “Sam had a brilliant idea of taking him for a drive.”

“A drive? Is that allowed?”

“Well, Billie didn’t appear and tell us no….” He sets the shirt on Dean’s dresser, claiming the nearby chair for his own. “They left awhile ago. Not sure when they’ll be back.”

“Awhile, huh?” Dean snorts, arching a stern brow. “And you’re only visiting me now?”

Cas stiffens, “Yes. You see – um…” Stuttering, Cas stalls for time as he thinks up an answer.

Tension leaks out of Dean’s shoulders watching him, seeing his angel go through human motions. Dragging a hand through his hair and pulling at his tie, both alight a familiar warmth in his heart. He snuffs that flame a second later, knowing how dangerous it would be if he let it keep. “Kidding,” Dean sighs, smiling, “I’m glad you waited. Probably wouldn’t have been this… chatty?”

“Of course…” Cas says, nodding, “I figured you’d need some time alone… to – to sort through things.”

He’s being generous. Dean used all his strength to not remember the pain stricken across Jack’s face. The wound is still so fresh, Jack ripping off the scabs with a frenzy caused by his soul’s return. Mary’s death hurting like it happened yesterday. “Maybe you should’ve given me five or ten more minutes, then,” he chuckles, tapping at his temple, “still a mess up here.”

“Hmm…”

“Hmm what?”

“Oh, nothing –“

“Bullshit, Cas,” Dean leans forward, a more devilish expression on his face, “C’mon. Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

“Nothing you probably don’t already know,” Cas says, “I’m… trying to wrap my head around this whole day. Jack getting his soul back… it’s remarkable. But also, troubling. How could that even be possible and – and will it last?”

“Don’t think about it too much, man,” he says, “what happened with Jack it’s… it’s a gift. Probably one of the few we’ve ever gotten that’s come with no strings attached. A win.”

“Have we ever gotten a win like that?”

It’d be so simple. Unfortunately, Dean chomps off the head of his one-word confession. Swallows the three-letters alongside all his other feelings. By the time the corpse of it decomposes in his stomach, Dean realizes it’s been too long since he last spoke. Cas waiting, staring at him. An awkward chuckle bubbles forth, his breath reeking of ashen sincerity. “Bout time we got one, then, don’t you think?”

He concedes, mouth thinning in a cunning smile. “I suppose we are… but enough about what I think.” Dean’s lips pinch tight. “I think we’ve delayed the inevitable conversation. Don’t you?”

“No,” he says, “we can delay it some more. Like… what was up with those bootleg versions of us?” Dean scoffs, “I bet that other me doesn’t even know what pie tastes like… too busy cramming caviar down his throat.”

“You might enjoy caviar. I hear it’s very popular?”

“Caviar’s only popular because it’s expensive,” Dean tells him, “and all those rich dudes spent too much money on it to hate it, so they lie and convince others it’s good and it’s an awful, self-servicing cycle.”

“I didn’t know you had such strong opinions on caviar?”

“I’ve got strong opinions on just about everything…” Dean makes the mistake of glancing up, catching sight of Cas’s judgmental bend of his brow. “But you don’t wanna hear any of those…”

“Not right now, no…” Cas stands, drifting towards his door. “I guess you were right, you do need more time by yourself. Perhaps in the morning –“

“Shit, Cas, I’m sorry,” he says, rising, grabbing his elbow. The touch sears even through the jackets and shirt; Dean’s grasp on it firms, savoring it. “Y’know how… how tough this has got to be for me, right?” His throat cracks on the last word, eyes glistening. He feels the tears brimming behind them, pooling, waiting for release.

Cas sighs, dropping any pretense of exiting. “I do,” he says, hand hovering over Dean’s briefly. Considering if he should. A short argument, as it gently embraces his hand; the one chaining Cas to him. “That’s why I want you to speak. Free yourself of the burden… let me help carry it with you.”

“You don’t have to, Cas,” Dean says, “You’ve got your own things, worries t’deal with –“

“That won’t stop me.”

Stubborn. A double-edged sword that makes up the arsenal of Cas’s traits, all weapons Dean would gladly throw himself on.

Cas quiets, then, waiting for Dean and his response. Words were unneeded. Dean can decipher all he thinks by looking into his angel’s eyes. Captivating, whether in the harsh fluorescents of his bedroom or the soft moonlight of an abandoned church. They always make his head dizzy, thoughts unspooling like Dean drank half a bottle of whiskey or smoked three joints. The more he stays the course, the worse it gets. He nearly forgot hellhounds were baring down on them, Sam their last defense against the creatures, because Cas’s eyes hold a magic that quells any fear or worry gnawing at Dean’s senses.

“Dean?”

“It hurt being around him,” Dean whispers his admittance, inching closer. Chests almost pressed together. Noses dangerously close. His toes practically climbing atop Cas’s dress shoe. “I hate that that’s true but… it is. Because as glad as I was to see the kid still kicking it… I’m just reminded of her.” Cas’s thumb rubs a comforting circle into his knuckles, Dean dropping his gaze there. “Reminded of what he did. How he just didn’t… didn’t get it, y’know. Couldn’t tell that it was bad. He – there was still this… this disconnect. And after he came back I could tell he’d look at me and try to find the words t’apologize but they were never there. And without them, we’d never move past it. He’d still be hurting, and so would I… Which sucks because – because I know you think of him as your son, but y’know… I think of him as mine, too –“

“I like to think of him as ours, Dean.”

“Yes, well…” he clears his throat, tongue wetting his lips as he recovers. Dean chooses tactical evasion, ignoring Cas’s comment and moving on. “He’s like… my second chance. He is a second chance. A second coming, really – sorta like Jesus –“ He pauses, gaze darting towards Cas’s face. “That doesn’t matter. I just… I wanted to make things right with Jack, but he didn’t know how – and I sure didn’t know how. So we were circling each other, doing nothing. I could feel things festering. The happiness that came after Jack’s return began fading; instead of relief there’d be dread whenever he walked into a room. Got it into my head that things’d never get any better, and there was no way of fixing this rift between us.”

“But with his soul, he finally understands,” Cas says, “he’s apologized. That’s what you wanted?”

“It is. I… yeah,” Dean shudders, neck suddenly weak. It bends, Dean’s chin saved from touching his neck by Cas’s forehead supporting his. There noses are beside one another, lips a breath apart. “I know it’s for the best but… seeing him cry, all I wanted to do was hug him. Let him know it’d be all right. Except I ran I… I couldn’t say anything. He was hurting and that – that made me hurt even worse. And then I felt glad he could feel hurt… it sorta spiraled from there.”

Cas hums, Dean’s mouth vibrating with the note. “You were overwhelmed,” Cas says, “there’s no reason for you to be ashamed.”

“Yes, there is.” Dean scowls, “I’m middle-aged, can gank a monster twice my size without blinking, but the second a situation gets too touchy-feely I stomp on the gas and speed through all the red lights.” While Dean talked about Jack, a highlight reel of all his shortcomings playing on a giant screen in his mind. Times where Dean’s emotions short-circuited. Fried his circuits, caused him more pain than necessary. Many of those scenes feature a recurring character, shaped like a man in a trench coat. It flickers out, leaving Dean with a blank slate. That fades, too, and Cas’s face is there.

“It’s not fear, Dean. Not at all,” he says. Protest swells, but with a sharp look from Cas it wanes. “Trust me, as someone who knows you… knows your soul, you – you are not afraid of feelings. Not at all.” He smiles, Dean leaning back for the full effect. Blessed by heavenly light. “On the contrary,” Cas continues, “You embrace your emotions. Unfortunately… sometimes you feel too much and that – that can be particularly difficult to manage. I remember when I was human, sometimes the smallest of ripples in my heart caused me great pains. Something modest like being cold or hungry… or in pain, were too much for me to express. Your capacity for feelings, your intelligence and understanding it’s… fantastic. But there are limits. We all have them. You feel too much sometimes that you cannot express yourself or even deal with them.”

Dean’s tears prick at the corners of his eyes, dangling. Still unshed. “It does feel like that,” he says, “Sometimes it’s… like there’s a highway, and it’s rush hour. Traffic on – on all sides. No one’s moving, and I’m behind the wheel and I want to go but I can’t and I… I get so angry that I can’t.” He lets go of Cas, slipping from his loose grip. “S’what I’m feeling right now.”

Cas accepts Dean’s need for distance, hands retreating into his pockets. “And what I’m here, to tell you, is this. You might be behind the wheel, but you’re hardly alone in that car. Sam’s there. Jack’s there. And I am most certainly there.”

Dean nods, wiping a hand down his face. “Thank you, Cas. I… needed this.”

“I’m glad to be of service, then.” Cas’s tone fell, a discordant pluck of the harp that triggered Dean’s worry. Before he could ask about it, his angel floats away. “I should let you get your rest. Today was exhausting…”

Halfway out the door, Dean stops him. “Cas, wait!”

“Yes?”

Standing there, framed by his doorway, waiting for Dean to continue with shining eyes, Dean thinks his angel never looked more gorgeous. And he wants to tell him. Despite how the words stick in his throat, the sweat dripping from his forehead, and how his feelings might be received, he wants to tell him. He wants to tell him everything. Finally.

That flame from earlier, snuffed out, relights. Burns hotter than Baby’s engine gunning down the highway. Ballooning, spreading through his veins and disorienting him. The room spins, his vision blurs, but Cas stays clear and firm. It’s right there, on the tip of his tongue –

“Yes, Dean?”

He’s cold. Doused by an untimely thought that quells any of his passionate desires, leaving him charred, ashen, and helpless.

Dean notices the frown lines around his mouth. The way his eyes drooped in a way they’ve never done. Shadows stretch across his body, slithering, hiding most of his expression from Dean. But he senses a tiredness there that, on Cas, seems foreign.

The moment passes. It wouldn’t feel right, anyway.

“Just…” his face hurts from the tight grin he forces, “I go both ways.” Blushing, he amends his statement. “I mean, I don’t have to give you all my baggage – I can… I can also help you carry some of yours, if you’d like?”

Cas tilts his head, light revealing a gentle smile. “I’d like that. Night, Dean.”

“Night Cas…”

A closing door never felt more ominous.

Dean stares at it, chewing on his lip. Chest aching, heart beating against it with the force of a storm wreaking havoc. He walks towards the switch, flipping it off. Bathing the room in shadows. Making it easier. “Cas,” he says aloud, looking ahead into the endless darkness. “I love you. After this is all over, and we don’t have any more fights heading our way… I’d like for you to stay. With me. And we can have the life we both deserve. I just… I want you to know what I’m fighting for. It’s not the world. It’s you. It’s us.”

He slips under the covers. Talking to empty air didn’t make the feelings disappear, or easier in dealing with. But it’s a start.

Maybe he’ll do better in the morning.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel coda #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #spn #spn15 #15x13 destiny's child #better late than never lol

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bettyminicoop · 3 years ago

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514 will be showing in a couple of hours, and this post has been hanging unfinished in draft s for over two weeks. It's not like I'm suggesting new theories here that haven't yet been put forward on Tumblr. But I decided that I still want to get it out of my head, speculate a little about the notorious voicemail and Jessica. And at the same time see how much I guessed, or at least how well I understand Riverdale.

I also sorry to those who will read this for bad English. Since I want to end this post as soon as possible, I did a very bad proofreading of the text.

So, the scene: Betty, Tabitha and Jessica in the Pop's. The first two are already wrapping mushroom fries when Jessica makes it clear that she knows about the Bughead drama because of the ba kiss. Tabitha is shocked that this topic has been brought up. Betty is angry and turns on voicemail in her defense. Jughead’s first words are accompanied by Jessica's bewildered face, which suggests that she had no idea about the call. Betty like "of course I'm a bad bitch," Tabitha like "oh my god, that's why Jug was so vague about his breakup with Betty." And Jessica listens very attentively to every word on the record, as if comparing in her head some facts she knows only. Immediately after, the first thing she says is: "We already lived together then," and Jessica's face is very sad. Betty and Tabitha are confused. Moreover, it is clear from Betty's face that this is new information for her. And all this is bad on many levels. Because the elephant in the room is quite obvious - Jughead calls with a claim to his ex while already in a new relationship. Jessica goes on to tell the sad story of her relationship with Jughead, telling Betty “We weren't good with each other, well, you know”, which makes Betty feel sad. I want to note that at this moment only Jessica is absolutely sober, while the other two girls are already in a rolling foggy high. The fact that allows her to be in the position of a manipulator and to lead the conversation in the direction she needs. Which she quickly reveals, saying that she just wanted the manuscript. Jessica also reports that she too succumbed to destructive behavior, like Jughead, which causes a very skeptical expression on Betty's face. Come on girl, don't trust this witch!

It is clear that Jessica rushed to Riverdale only for Jughead's manuscript, and not to help find him. She literally flipped all of his things and drugged two people to get what she wanted. Obviously, his book does not reveal Betty as a bad person. Otherwise, why would he call it "romantic" and be angry that the main villain of his work did not come to witness her exposure. I guess Jessica went all-in, assuming Betty hadn't read the book. I remind that Betty and Tabitha are both already high, they will believe in any acceptable argument. And when Jessica presses on a bruise "I don't want people to know about our bad relationship with Jughead, how did they know about yours" - this is a very weighty argument, first of all for Betty, as well as for Tabitha, to to do the girl a favor out of solidarity. And that doesn't make Betty bad. This shows her as a deeply wounded person who cannot afford to hurt anyone else, even if she is a dubious lady with bad ideas for girls night.

Now for quick thoughts and basic speculation:

1. Jughead told Jessica about him and Betty. Why, how? Not that it was in his character to whine to strangers about school love. I guess Jessica found out later, when Jughead was either drunk, in the heat of writing the book, or after publication at all. In any case, it happened after he survived his trauma and became a different person.

2. Jessica probably didn't know about voicemail.

3. Betty probably had no idea about Jessica at the time of the voicemail. This is also confirmed by the conversation between Tabitha and Betty in the bunker, when it is clear from Betty's reaction that Jessica is unfamiliar to her. Betty also asks where Jughead got the mushrooms, indicating that she had no idea about his addiction.

4. Jessica pokes Betty's nose at the fact that her relationship with Jughead was bad and literally doomed. Which Betty most likely believes, because in front of her is the girl to whom Jughead complained about his previous relationship.

5. Most likely Jughead began to change not for the better already under the influence of Jessica. She either encouraged the worst self-destructive sides in him, or even had a personal interest in this drama.

In fact, @joneswuzthere, in her breakdown of 511, described very well what Jessica and Jughead's relationship was likely to be. This is a rather long, deep and somewhat controversial analysis of the series. While I sometimes have to remind myself that Bughead was written by the same people who wrote plots about Edgar Evernever's damn rocket, Nana Bossom kept the corpse in a barrel for 50 years, Chick Gargoyle King. When I remember this, I stop digging 10 meters into the plot, and stop at a depth of a couple of centimeters. Huh.

6. It is clear from Jessica's story that their relationship with Jughead began before the book was written. And he himself told Tabitha earlier that he did not remember how he wrote it. From which I conclude that Jughead was already in a state of altered reality at that time. Which only confirms point 5.

7. I also assume that Jughead did not distinguish between reality and his fantasies at the time of the voicemail and before it. And this is most likely the main reason for VM - he invented a story for himself, believed in it, and five years later dumped his resentment on Betty. This is also indirectly confirmed by the 514 review from tvinsider.com: "while the kicker explores the origins of the addiction that’s trapped Jughead somewhere between the facts of his life and the fiction he’s penned." All of the VM content is pretty weird and not Jughead-like. Especially if the situation developed in such a way that he and Betty did not speak for five years. Why did his emotions suddenly decide to splash out, if only for some reason he didn't wind himself up?

8. Betty didn't read the book. Tabitha hasn't read the book. Will they read it in the next episodes and who exactly will make Betty do it?

9. Jessica desperately wanted a new Jughead manuscript. Why? Does she know his talent and wants to steal the book? Has she tried to steal previous Jughead lyrics before? Did she drug him and keep him in destructive behavior in a state of unreality in order to steal his stories that he didn't remember anyway?

10. In VM, Jughead basically said he was regret about his relationship with Betty. Coupled with Jessica's manipulation of "he wrote badly about you in his book" Betty basically believed that Jughead was done with her. I think right now she is at a point of no return in her relationship with Jughead. And no matter what happens next, he will have to take the first step and pull Betty out of the spiral of guilt and self-isolation.

11. Why am I still sure there was no Bughead interaction in the five years between the porch hug and the voicemail night? As many speculate based on what Jughead said, there were likely interactions between the two. And Betty let Jughead down over and over again. But even if so, wouldn't he tell Betty that he is not only in a new relationship, but also lives with his girlfriend? I will never believe it. If the Bughead were really trying to build friendships in college, I'm sure they would be as honest as possible with each other about their personal lives. The complete lack of interaction between Bughead in the temporary jump is also confirmed by the scene of Tabitha and Betty in Pop's, when Betty does not understand at all why she breaks Jughead's buzz.

12. From this I can conclude that Jughead, being high all these years, still had the image of Betty in his head trying to get him out of the trap (she literally freed him from the handcuffs in the last trip). The image of Betty trying to reason with Jughead could very well turn into Betty breaking the high.

The episode is coming soon, so I stop my reasoning and open the bingo game. And I hope that in 514 we get to know most of the backstory of Jughead, because it is simply impossible to delay it.

#riverdale 514 #riverdale speculation #riverdale season 5 #riverdale spoilers #jughead jones #betty cooper #bughead

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years ago

Text

Torn Apart

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

This is a bit of a shorter story, and it’s late, but hey, I’m glad I was able to get it done. Season three of this AU, everybody! It starts here. The boys are meeting up with Schneep again, who has some things to explain. And it seems that Anti’s been defeated, but how true is that? After all, it can’t be that easy to get rid of a glitch. (Also, be warned, there’s a tiny, one-paragraph reference to suicidal thoughts, but hopefully it’s not too noticeable.) Hope you guys enjoy reading, even though it got delayed ^-^

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty

The evening was clear, the twilight sky tinged purple. Chase, sitting on the front steps of the house, watched the cars drive down the street. The concrete steps were still a bit warm from the late summer sun. It might’ve been peaceful, if...

The front door swung open, and Jack poked his head out. “Hey, uh...you good, Chase?” he asked. “You’ve been out here for a while.”

“I’m good,” Chase said idly. “How’re Lily and Moira?”

“They’re good. Lily went to sleep.” Jack paused. “We got to think of something to say other than ‘good’ to describe how people are. Anyway, Schneep wanted to talk to all of us.”

“Hmm...yeah.” It was about time. The guy disappears for a month, then comes back all...different. Chase supposed he wanted to give out explanations. He sighed, and stood up. “Alright, let’s go, then.”

Chase followed Jack into the dining room. JJ and Schneep were already there, with JJ sitting at the table and Schneep hovering nearby. Jack took a seat at the table as well, but Chase hesitated. He glanced at JJ, who immediately glanced away. In all the commotion of the day, they hadn’t really had time to make up for the fight they’d had. Regret pooled in Chase’s stomach. He...he really hadn’t meant it, when he snapped that JJ never had any friends. He hadn’t meant it to be that hurtful. God, why did he have to do things like this? He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What if he made it worse? And JJ didn’t look too good right now; he’d been sleeping most of the afternoon, ever since he apparently drained his magic. If Chase said the wrong thing now, it would be kicking him while he’s down.

“Chase, are you going to sit, or what?” Schneep snapped.

“Ak!” Chase jumped in surprise. “Alright, alright.” He took the chair across from JJ. “What about you? Are you going to sit, or just stand there?”

Schneep hummed. “No, I do not think so.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

You don’t have to, of course, JJ said. But I feel we should get down to business quickly. What is it you wanted to talk to us about?

There was a moment of awkward silence. Then Jack jumped in, “Hey, uh, JJ wants to know what you wanted to talk to us about.” JJ winced, apparently having forgotten that Schneep couldn’t see the signs to understand him.

“Oh. Yes, yes, well...” Schneep shrugged. “I am sure you all have questions. I thought I would give you some time to process what happened—”

Chase suddenly laughed. “Oh, you mean how you suddenly showed up and fucking killed Anti, who we’ve barely been able to hold our own against in the past?”

“Well...yes,” Schneep said.

“Yeah, I mean…” Jack jumped in, “first of all, how’d you do that, second of all, how’d you know to do that?!”

Schneep laughed, folding his arms and bouncing in place. “Well...if I am to be honest, I...am not sure.”

The other three stared back at him, then glanced at each other. “Uh...how do you not be sure about something like that?” Chase asked. “Like...I mean, I’m pretty sure you would remember figuring out how to kill a glitch monster.”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Well, for some people, memories are not so certain, Chase. Especially after having their head fucked with by nightmares.”

Chase winced. “...sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at the surface of the table.

Jack reached over and placed his hand near Chase’s. After a moment, Chase grabbed it and squeezed his fingers tight.

“Is okay, Chase,” Schneep said, voice a bit softer. “I suppose it is part my fault for not talking about it.”

“Hey, you’re not obligated to talk about it, Hen,” Jack pointed out.

“Anyway, back to what I was saying,” Schneep said, hurriedly changing the subject. “I am sure that something happened to me, that somehow my magic—mein Gott, it still feels strange to say that—it went all over the place.”

JJ tapped on the table, then started signing. Jack, please translate to Schneep what I am saying.

“Okay,” Jack said, nodding.

Your magic is teleportation, correct? From what I understand, that is a difficult power to master.

After Jack translated, Schneep nodded, pursing his lips. “I believe it is something like that. Though it might be something more.” He finally sat down, taking the last chair at the table. “What happened...after Anti revealed himself, and we fought, something happened, and I disappeared, though I did not mean to. You all saw that, yes?” The other three made sounds of agreement. “After that, I...somehow, I...I went to...to many different places very quickly.” He seemed to be struggling to describe the events. “And it went quicker and quicker, and then I saw things.”

“You saw things?” Jack repeated, sounding a bit surprised. “But you...can’t.”

“It was not with my eyes, it was as if in my mind,” Schneep explained. “But they were still seen by me, which is why I doubt that these things were true, though they might have been. What is more unbelievable was the voice afterwards. I am starting to highly doubt that was real, but he did help me figure out how to...ah, what is the word?” He snapped his fingers a couple times. “Something like...get a...something with hands, but not exactly, it is in the word...”

Handle? JJ suggested, tapping out the word in morse code.

“Exactly!” Schneep grinned. “Get a handle on what I could do. So either that voice was real and helped, or it was my brain trying to tell me how it worked. Either way, it is the same.”

Chase raised an eyebrow. “Who could’ve done something like that? I mean...I guess they’d have to know how to teleport, how likely is that? JJ said that was hard to do.”

“It is besides the point,” Schneep dismissed. “The point is that this started me to figuring out how this magic works.”

“Okay...” Chase said slowly. “But why’d you take a month to meet up with us? Where were you?”

“It...did not seem like a month,” Schneep said. “I could’ve guessed it was a week.”

I suppose your powers could’ve...gotten out of control for three weeks, JJ said. Jack quickly translated the signs again.

“Well again, there is a possibility that none or only some of this happened,” Schneep said. “And I could have been having a breakdown and wandering the city the whole time.”

“I think we would’ve heard of that, if that was the case,” Chase muttered. “Cause I mean...we were looking out for you. We had the news on and stuff.”

“Okay, but I feel like we’re getting off track here,” Jack interrupted. “How’d you figure out how to defeat Anti?”

“Well, after everything calmed down, regardless of if it existed or not, I spent the rest of the time practicing,” Schneep said. “I was staying in my apartment—”

Chase suddenly slammed his hands on the table. “How did we think to check everywhere but there?!”

Schneep chuckled. “Is understandable. We have not been back to any of our homes in a while.”

Still, Chase shook his head, looking disappointed in himself. “Anyway, you were practicing?”

“Yes. The whole time, getting better at things like this.” The air seemed to split, and suddenly Schneep was standing in the corner. Then, only a second later, he was back in the chair. “I knew we had to find a way to get rid of Anti forever. I thought that we had done well, taking out that string that was part of him. That defeated him for a while. So I thought if we could destroy it, that would defeat him forever.”

“So...basically, you guessed that it would work,” Chase summarized.

Schneep huffed. “It was a theory. I also thought that those stitches on his neck and wrists had something to do with it, and that getting rid of those would help. Honestly, I did not think it would take that short a time.”

“Turns out that practice makes perfect,” Jack muttered. “Or...practice makes you able to fight a glitch demon.”

“Well, practice and these.” Schneep suddenly placed something on the table that he definitely had not had before. A pair of scissors. Oh the whole, they looked rather ordinary, or average size and made of a shining silver metal. The only exception was that the blades looked unusually sharp.

The other three leaned forward to look at them. “...huh,” Chase said after a while. “I mean, they don’t look that strange.”

“They are not,” Schneep said. “Except for the fact that when I thought of getting something that could cut through Anti’s strange soul string, I pulled these out of nowhere.”

That’s impossible, JJ signed.

“Why’s it impossible, Jay?” Jack asked.

You can’t conjure items out of thin air, JJ explained. They have to be either summoned from somewhere, or transformed from something else. In all my studies, that is one of the consistent rules I have found.

“Well, then, where could these have been summoned from?” Chase asked. “Schneep?”

“I do not know,” Schneep answered, brows furrowing. “I did not think too much about it. I just needed them, and they appeared.”

“Well, if your magic is teleportation based, I’m guessing you must have teleported them from somewhere,” Jack reasoned. “Though that does leave questions like, I dunno, fucking...who had them in the first place? Would that person miss them? And how did that person make them so that they could cut through weird ass soul string?”

Before the discussion could continue any further, there was a cough. At some point, Stacy had appeared in the dining room entrance. “Hey, so, two questions,” she said. “One, are all of you going to stay here for the night? And two, can you tell me now what’s going on?”

The group was silent for a bit. “Um...well, I guess we’re going to be staying here,” Chase said slowly. “I mean, the three of us are. Schneep, I dunno about you...”

Schneep nodded. “I will be, too, but do not worry about space, I can just stay on the sofa.”

“And, for the second, um...” Chase looked at the other three, vaguely distressed. What was he supposed to do? It seemed like they defeated Anti, but what if they hadn’t? He couldn’t get Stacy and the kids anymore involved! Hell, the kids had already been taken! Jack shrugged, and gave him a thumbs up, but JJ wouldn’t meet his eyes. That caused a twinge somewhere in Chase’s chest. But he turned back to Stacy without acknowledging it. “Um...I guess I could...I mean, just the basics of what happened...but, um, can we do it tomorrow?”

Stacy leveled him with a stare, then sighed. “Yeah, alright. The girls have had enough excitement as it is.” She started to leave. “I work from 7 to 3, though, so we better have that conversation in the afternoon,” she said before disappearing down the hall.

Chase let out a breath, looking down at the dining room table. His hands were shaking. He curled them into fists. Suddenly, he stood up. “I’m, um...going to bed.” Without any further explanation, he turned and also left. Jack called after him, but he didn’t look back.

He made his way into the guest bedroom, and flopped down heavily on the bed. His chest rose and fell heavily as he blinked back tears. No, he wouldn’t cry again. He’d just been crying that morning, after they got back with the kids. After they’d defeated Anti, and...

He took a deep, shuddering breath. Well...he couldn’t lie to himself. He’d been expecting to find Jackie and Marvin again, just like they had when they defeated Anti the first time. But it seemed that...killing Anti had also killed...

No, he wouldn’t cry. He’d cried enough back when they’d first found the two of them dead. And besides, none of the others were reacting so strongly. It was just him that had gotten his hopes up for getting them back.

Chase rolled over onto his side. Now facing the other side, his eyes landed on the nightstand. Its drawer was closed, but he knew what was inside it. He froze for a moment, unable to look away. Then he suddenly buried his face in the pillow. No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t.

Slowly, twilight faded into night, and Chase stayed where he was, not moving once, not even when Jack and JJ came in to check on him. A few long hours later, he finally drifted off to sleep.

— — — — — — —

Most people probably wouldn’t open their door if someone knocked on it in the middle of the night. They might be asleep, and if they weren’t expecting anyone, why risk it? Luckily, he knew that the person in this particular town house would be awake. Or...he did know that, right? Or was he thinking of someone else? He thought he knew this person, but things were...things felt disconnected, not quite there. Nonetheless, he’d been wandering most of the day, and he could remember it being dangerous to be out in the city at night. He needed to get somewhere safe, and this address came to mind.

When there was no answer, he knocked on the door again, pounding on the wood. Putting just a little more force into the motion suddenly made him dizzy, and he leaned heavily against the doorframe as his head swirled.

Some time later, there was the sound of footsteps behind the door, and he realized that at some point a light had turned on inside, and could be seen through the window. When had that happened? A few moments later, and he heard the sound of the door unlocking. It opened outward. He stepped back to avoid the swinging door, and saw that there was now a black-haired man standing in the doorway, wearing a loose t-shirt and pajama pants. The man’s eyes were impossibly wide. “Wh...” He seemed at a loss for words. “How...? What...? Is this...some kind of joke?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but instead, suddenly lost all feeling in his legs and fell forward.

“Whoa!” The other man caught him just in time. “Shit, I...hang on.” He managed to lift him into his arms, awkwardly closing the door and bringing him into the house. Speaking of the house, the layout seemed...familiar. He’d been here before, hadn’t he? Because he wasn’t surprised at all when the man carried him into a nearby living room and set him down on a black couch. “Shit...” The dark-haired man backed up. “You, uh...need anything? Water? Medical attention? Also, please tell me if you’re actually here and actually are who I think you are.”

“Hmm...” He blinked slowly at the room. Yes, he’s been here before. He recognized the homemade paintings on the wall and the armchair that stood out due to its bright pattern of colorful spots. He tried to sit up, but his head was still spinning, so he decided to lay back down.

“Uh...can you talk?” The dark-haired man was hovering nearby, and he was sure that he knew him. “I have a text-to-speech app on my phone, if that’d help.”

“I...know you...” He finally managed to say. “I do.”

“Um...yeah, if you are who I think you are, I knew you, too,” the man said, shifting his weight where he stood. “Well…‘knew’ is the operative word here, ‘cause...aren’t you...you’re supposed to be...” He seemed hesitant to say it.

Suddenly, something clicked into place. He sat up straight, only to lean heavily against the back of the sofa. “Malcolm,” he said. “That’s your name, I know it. It sounds like...my name? No, not my name. The other name?” He blinked slowly. “It’s definitely not my name.”

“No,” the man—Malcolm said slowly. “Your name—if you’re actually who I’m seeing right now, your name is Jackie.”

Another click as a piece fitted neatly into the bigger picture. “Yeah...yeah, that’s me.” Jackie nodded, slowly at first, then faster. “Yeah, I’m exactly who you’re seeing right now.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah.” Malcolm nodded as well. “On one hand, that’s good, ‘cause it means I’m not seeing things. On the other hand...okay, no more beating around it, how the fuck are you alive?!”

“Ummmm...” Jackie shook his head. “I don’t...know. Did I die?”

“I mean, as far as everyone knew, yeah!” Malcolm stepped back, running his hands through his hair. “God, I went to your funeral. We fucking cremated you—”

“Oh, I did want that, didn’t I?” Jackie said idly, vaguely remembering a conversation that he had with someone about things like that.

“—I mean, was that not you?” Malcolm continued. “Was this some plot? I fucking—oh yeah, and then they investigated the scene and found that vigilante suit, what the fuck about that? Did anyone else know about that, or did you just not tell me?”

“Oh. Oh, you do the, um...” Jackie snapped his fingers a couple of times, scrambling to find the right piece of memory. “You do the police things. You’re a cop.”

“Oh no, I am a detective, you know that,” Malcolm emphasized. “There’s a difference.”

“Anyway, I don’t...think anyone else knew about that...?” Jackie said slowly. “No, the other one did. The other, the other...we lived together, he had to know, but I’m pretty sure he told the, uh...the doctor one, the nightmare one.”

Malcolm stared at him. He slowly walked over to the spotted armchair, sitting down heavily and leaning forward. “...Jackie,” he said. “So it is you. But you’re...you seem confused. Is everything alright?”

Jackie considered this. “I think so,” he said.

“Really? ‘Cause you seem to be having, um.” Malcolm pursed his lips. “Some memory problems. And the last time I saw you, you were dead, with no obvious cause of death but very clearly dead, and it looked like you kind of...well, killed your roommate. Whose name you also seem to have forgotten. You do know this isn’t normal, right?”

“Yeah.” Jackie laid down again, staring up at the ceiling. “I...something happened. How...how long ago was this thing you’re talking about?”

“Um, about two and a half years, now,” Malcolm said. “The department could never figure it out, though.” Jackie gave him a look, and he continued. “Y’know, it looked like some occult shit, there was a circle on the ground with candles, and both of you were dead, and you were holding a knife.”

“I remember that,” Jackie said, pressing a hand to his head. “It was...I-I still can’t remember the name, the other one, he—he tricked me, I lost my temper, I—something happened. I wanted to stop it...I think. I was the one with the knife? Then I must’ve been the one who wanted to stop it, I know it was one of us. Which means I’m the one that—well, I mean, I remember not meaning to, the other one, he moved at the wrong moment. I-I...I need to...fuck.”

Malcolm suddenly stifled a laugh. “You need to fuck?”

“What? No!” Jackie looked over at him. “I’m not the one who feels—no, wait, I am. I think. What’s the one with the, um...the pink, yellow, and blue? That one’s me, the other one’s the purple and black and white one, I don’t remember what they mean, though...”

“Um...okay, sorry I brought that up.” Malcolm glanced over at the room’s entrance. “God, Benjamin might come down to ask what’s going on.”

“That’s your...roommate,” Jackie said slowly. “Right?”

“Right.” Malcolm paused. “So...it’s clear that you don’t have any idea what happened. Or if you do, you’re not in a state to puzzle it out. So do you need anything? Do you have a place to stay for the night?”

“Oh. I thought I would stay here.” Jackie nodded. “Yeah, I...I remember it seemed like a good place to stay.”

“Really?” Malcolm asked. “I mean, I’m flattered, but...I mean, we’re not that...Can’t you stay with your Jack friend? Or the other ones, what is it, Henry and Chase—”

“Chase.” Jackie suddenly lurched, clutching his wrist. The force of the movement caused him to fall off the couch onto the floor. Malcolm cried out, and rushed over, but Jackie didn’t acknowledge him. “Chase, Chase, the hat one, Chase. We need him. He should be with us. Chase, Chase, puppet. Our pup̕pe͞t̶.”

Malcolm was taken aback for a moment, but he quickly moved on. “Okay, I’m sure we can call him or something in the morning. I don’t know his number, but you probably do, if you can remember it. Are you okay with me touching you, right now?” He waited for a response, but Jackie just kept mumbling, so he slowly reached out. When Jackie didn’t react, he helped him into a sitting position. “Okay. Jackie, how do you feel? Can you tell me?” No response. “Alright. That’s alright, if you can’t talk. Can you give me anything? Nodding? Can you blink twice if you can hear me? No? Alright, that’s fine, Jackie. I’m going to help you onto the couch, okay? There we go. I’m going to be right here, okay?”

Jackie still didn’t react at all, continuing to talk to himself, like he expected someone else to answer. Someone else who, up until recently, had always been there. But was now gone. Or was he the one who was gone? Had they separated, or had he split in half? Either way, he felt the absence keenly. Part of him was missing. Or he was the missing part. Or both. The pieces wouldn’t settle.

— — — — — — —

On the other side of the city, while Jackie and Malcolm were having their exchange, something very similar was going on with two others. It was happening inside a small shop that looked like a defunct clothing store, but once inside, turned out to be much more than that. The interior was cluttered with tables and shelves, piled high with books and knickknacks. Behind the shop’s counter, there were two open doors, one of which was ajar and revealing a small bathroom. And looking through the open door, you could see a man and a woman. The man was leaning over the sink, coughing, while the woman rubbed circles on his back.

“There, there...” The woman said awkwardly. She was dressed in a holographic vest and a skater skirt, her hair dyed blue and purple, and she also looked very confused and unsure. “Just...yeah.”

The man coughed again, and a spatter of red flew from his mouth, joining the pool gathering in the bottom of the ceramic sink. “Nnn...” he said.

“Jesus christ,” the woman muttered. “What happened to you? Besides, um, dying.”

“I died?” The man asked vaguely. He coughed again, staining his lips and teeth crimson.

“I mean, yeah. We buried you. Under that tree like you said.”

“Good...” The man mumbled. “That’s...” He didn’t continue, slumping against the sink.

“Whoa, hang on, there,” the woman said, catching him before his head smacked against the faucet.

“Don’ touch me...” The man waved her away, taking a few steps before falling against the counter.

“Jesus.” The woman crouched by him. “Look, what happened?”

“I...don’t...” He shook his head.

The woman paused. “Do you know who I am?”

It took him a moment to answer. “...Eve, right? No. No, that’s...that’s only part of it. It’s like...spelled weird.”

“Starts with a Y,” she prompted.

After another moment, he suddenly straightened. “Yvonne. That’s...that’s you.”

“Yeah.” Yvonne smiled. “Do you know who you are?”

There was no answer this time. Unless you counted the tears that suddenly sprung to his eyes.

“Okay, it’s fine, you don’t need to answer right now.” Yvonne paused. “I’m guessing you don’t know what happened to you, then, so I guess it’s no use asking.”

“You said I died,” he said. “I...I remember that. The other one, he...he wanted to kill me. He did. It...it hurt.” He reached up to his neck. There was a slight red cut across this throat, no blood leaking out.

“It must’ve,” Yvonne said sympathetically. “I...well, if that happened for sure, I...” She hesitated, then blurted out the rest. “I can only conclude necromancy, but you’re too solid to be a spirit, and after two years, you’re too...there would’ve been some sign of decay, if you were brought back the other way.”

“Haha, my good looks.” He smiled a bit, the effect ruined by the blood on his teeth.

“Yeah, um, right.” Yvonne glanced towards the bathroom door. “Look, are you good now? I mean, there’s probably a whole trail from you throwing up blood all the way in here that I need to take care of. And as for you, uh...probably not a good idea to be in the bathroom if you’re gonna pass out or something.”

“Hmm...” He stood up, then started to list to the side. Yvonne caught him before he fell.

“Something’s wrong with you,” she muttered. “I mean, beyond the obvious. You feel...different.” She blinked, her eyes turning sky blue. Wisps of blue light, tinged with yellow at the ends, floated away from her fingers. “Révél e mai tamystiká oue animai,” she muttered.

“That’s a spell,” the man mumbled. “Anim, anim...root of something. Animal? Soul. Soul spell.”

“Yeah, that’s my specialty,” Yvonne said absentmindedly. “Yours, too. God, you must’ve been real...messed...up...” She trailed off. “Marvin...your soul is...” She could only gape. There were no words for what she was sensing.

“Mar—oh, that’s me! Me!” Marvin laughed, trying to step forward but quickly losing his balance, making Yvonne catch him. He didn’t notice; he was still laughing. “Me, me, me, just one, no actually, I think two, we think two, like there are two halves, but where’s the other one? Oh, oh. Where’s the difference? We need the other one, where is he, where is me?” A few more scattered laughs fell from his mouth.

“Shit, Marv.” Yvonne shook her head. “You need—” Suddenly, she stiffened, and her head whipped back towards the bathroom door. “Someone came in.” She shifted her position to see who it was, and her eyes widened. “Shit! Marvin, stay here, stay quiet.” She slowly set him down on the bathroom floor, still giggling to himself. Then quickly, she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Marvin leaned his head against the closed door. “Me, me, we, me, we,” he whispered to himself, a few odd tears slipping from his eyes. Was there a difference between those words? He thought there might’ve been, once. But now they’ve blurred together. They meant the same thing, didn’t they? He wasn’t sure he liked that. Where did he stop? Where did the other begin? Or were they interchangeable? He definitely didn’t like how he didn’t know the answer to any of these questions.

There were voices coming from the other side of the door. He recognized Yvonne: “Ah, Mae, it’s a bit late for a raid, isn’t it? I tell you, this business has come clean.”

“We’d be fools to believe you at face value, Bell,” said another voice, one of an older woman. “But this isn’t us coming in to check on the legality of your wares.”

“Oh?” Yvonne sounded amused and confused.

“The Magi has done some poking around,” said the voice of Mae. “Set off by something I witnessed myself. Someone teleported directly into our library, disregarding all our shielding. This started an investigation, and after some searching, we have detected an oddly high amount of soul magic in this city.”

“Oh. Well, that’s...weird,” Yvonne said. “This someone must’ve been pretty powerful, to teleport directly there.”

“That’s besides the point,” Mae dismissed. “The soul magic is why we’re here. You are the only soul-based magician currently in the city.”

“Really?” Yvonne said, feigning intrigue. “I could’ve sworn there was another. I think he was some kind of stage magician?”

“Marvin Moore has been dead for over two years, leaving only you behind,” Mae said firmly. “And you have a record of disregarding ABIM laws.��

“I did, but I’ve turned over a new leaf,” Yvonne said. Her voice suddenly became serious. “I...learned about the results of my actions the hard way.”

“Nevertheless, this is a preliminary inspection,” Mae said. “We’re searching your shop, your storage, and your living area.”

“By all means, feel free.” Footsteps. “But if you’ll excuse me, I was just about to use the bathroom, so please.”

“Very well.” More footsteps, heading away.

Yvonne opened the door, slipping inside the bathroom again, keeping it closed enough to block Marvin from view of the other magicians now searching her shop. “Alright, that’s that,” she said under her breath. “Marvin, what the fuck have you been doing?”

“What have we been doing?” Marvin repeated idly. “Hmm...I can’t quite...it’s all jumbled.” He sighed, and closed his eyes.

“Marvin? Marvin are you—don’t you dare pass out on me! Not while there are ABIM agents in my shop! I need you to—Marvin!”

He felt her trying to shake him, but didn’t respond, already drifting. There was something missing. He felt it keenly. Or maybe he was the something that was missing. He couldn’t tell. The pieces wouldn’t settle.

— — — — — — —

There was a place in the city where all the electric lines met. It was walled off with a high fence, barbed wire at the top, to make sure that no one would sneak in and get hurt. But the fence couldn’t stop the thing slithering across the ground, green and glowing like a radioactive snake. The thing was small enough to squeeze right through the links in the fence, though on the other side, it fell apart. It wasn’t one long, solid unit like it had initially appeared, rather a bunch of small green strings, their ends cut, all moving in unison.

The strings crawled across the gravel of the walled-off space. Here, the power lines gathered and buzzed, held high off the ground. Boxes were attached to poles, with yellow warning signs and instructions plastered on them. The strings gathered around one of these poles, snaking up and spiraling around it, heading towards the attached box.

Here, the various pieces broke apart, wiggling into the seam of the box and managing to pry it open. Once inside, they reacted with the fuses. Green electric sparks flew from the box, and soon it lit up, white-hot electricity flying outward, frying the circuits inside.

The strings fell to the ground, unharmed. And they headed to another one, repeating the same process. And once that was done, they headed to another. And another.

And once everything inside the walled area was broken and smoking, the strings headed out to another, similar part of the power grid.

Hours later, morning dawned over a city without any power at all.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #antisepticeye #stitchedstories #the stitched septics #brigid writes fanfiction

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writeyouin · 5 years ago

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Swerve X Reader – Changes - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - The New You

A/N – Here it is, I really want to thank the anon who inspired me with that message, it was really great. I’m sticking with you too. As usual, a special thanks to @rocksinmuffin without whom, this story wouldn’t exist.

Warnings – Mentions of suicide.

Rating – T

Swerve sat tight lipped in the boardroom, surrounded by the newly found ethics committee who were discussing his actions regarding you. Rodimus, Megatron, Ultra Magnus, Drift, Rung, and Ratchet were to decide what punishment best suited a crime of this nature.

Quite frankly, Swerve didn’t care what this newfound committee did to him. All he cared about was returning to you in your time of need. Ever since you woke up screaming, you had been placed under sedation. Evidently, it would take some time for your human mind to integrate with your new Cybertronian body. When Swerve had proposed the idea of a new body, Perceptor and Brainstorm had warned him about the possible repercussions, but he had trusted their combined intellect over any statistical probability of things going wrong.

As it was, Brainstorm and Perceptor were both under house arrest until the ethics committee had time to decide what to do with them as well.

“SWERVE!” Ratchet barked, making the mini-bot look up dolefully, “I ASKED IF YOU EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THE RESULTS OF YOUR ACTIONS.”

“Oh…” Swerve frowned. “No, not really. Please Ratchet, is (Y/N) alright?”

“(Y/N)’s in the best servos available, Swerve,” Rung answered. “Please, focus on what we’re saying and answer our questions to the best of your ability. Were you ever planning on warning (Y/N) about this?”

“What does that matter?” Rodimus asked incredulously, his engines revving in frustration. “Face the facts, Swerve did what anybody else would have done to save a Conjunx. He saved her life, and she’ll be fine if we all just pull together and build up her psyche, right?”

Megatron hummed thoughtfully.

“You got something to say?”

“…No. I don’t think I have a place upon this ethics committee, considering my past choices.”

“Perhaps that is why you ought to speak up,” Ultra Magnus offered. “You have seen most clearly the line between right and wrong. Are you sure you do not wish to comment upon the matter?”

Megatron avoided Ultra Magnus’ gaze, and the matter was dropped.

Finally, Drift spoke up, “Has anybody considered the spiritual implications? As Cybertronians, we have Primus to put our faith in, and although I myself am not sure about (Y/N)’s spiritual beliefs, what if this affects her, now delayed, ascension to the afterlife?”

As an argument between Rodimus and Drift broke out, Ratchet tuned into the incoming call on his internal feed. “WHAT?!” He cried out.

All optics fell on him.

“Meeting’s over everyone. (Y/N) is missing from med-bay, and wherever she’s taken her old human corpse with her.”

Swerve immediately ran out of the room, beginning his search for you.

“HOW DID SHE EVEN WAKE UP?” He asked Ratchet through his comm-link as he transformed.

“It could be a myriad of reasons. I don’t know what kind of features Brainstorm and Perceptor added to her.”

Swerve cursed and tried to connect to your new internal communicator. The call came up as blocked, leading him to fear for your life. Before, he could have just lost you; now, he risked putting you through psychological torture as well as losing you.

Opening up the call to everyone he trusted, Swerve explained his plight, pleading with them at the end of the call. “Please guys… I lost her once, I can’t lose her again.”

It was Rodimus who answered first, “We’ve got your back Swerve. Wherever (Y/N) is, we’ll find her.”

Alone and scared in the dark, you hugged your previous human corpse to your chassis. You wanted somebody to tell you what to do, and yet you needed to be alone. Normal reasoning was not working anymore, and you only had enough sense to wonder whether this was what insanity felt like.

“Swerve,” You whimpered, unsure whether to love or hate him. “What have you done to me?”

Words started forming before your very eyes and you realised this was how some thoughts were going to appear on your internal feed, at least until you gained control of your new body.

‘Repair damaged corpse.’

Coolant leaked from your optics, “I can’t.”

The writing dissolved into nothingness and new words appeared in their place, ‘Dispose of corpse.’

“No…please God no.”

It seemed like the first thought had come from what remained of your fractured human mind, and the second from your new processor. Somewhere, deep down, you knew you were still who you used to be, yet it felt like parts of yourself were buried under the possibility of a new you.

Two new clashing thoughts wrote themselves before your visual feed, followed by an error message at the opposing opinions.

‘UPLOAD PRECIOUS PERSONA’ vs ‘PURGE OLD PERSONA.’

‘ERROR IN PROCESSING UNIT. INITIATING COOLDOWN SEQUENCE.’

You shuddered as air passed through your body. When you had seen mechs do this in the past, you had assumed it was like breathing, but it felt more like a ghostly apparition passing directly through you.

Was this your new life? Would your chest never rise and fall with the filling of real lungs? Granted, you could feel the steady thrum of your spark, but it was nothing like a human heartbeat.

Gently, you rested the corpse on your knees, squeezing your optics shut as if to remove the incoming words and thoughts. It didn’t work. Even through the darkness, your thoughts materialised before you, torturing you with their presence.

‘Make it stop. Make it stop. MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP!’

Frustratedly, you pounded your servos against your helm in a clumsy attempt to stop the incoming feed. While you were doing that, the search for you grew ever more frantic.

Whirl casually approached the Rod Pod, opening the ramp and walking inside. Sure enough, there you were, curled up on the floor, the corpse beside you.

Whirl took a blanket out of his sub-space, wrapping the corpse as gently as he could inside it, “Thought I’d find you in here blood-bag… Huh, Guess I can’t call you that anymore.”

“Whirl?” You asked, confused ever since your optics had shut off shortly after your breakdown.

“Yeah… It’s me flesh stick.”

“How did you find me?”

Whirl sat down beside you, drawing you into his arms, “I can always find a hider, you ought to know that by now. Besides, I remember when those fraggers stole my face and servos… The first thing I wanted to do was hide.”

“How did you fix it, Whirl? Everything feels wrong. I can’t tell anymore- What part is human and what part is-”

“Hey, don’t think of it like that. You humans are gross, teeth literally fall out of you, but when another comes back, it’s all okay, isn’t it? You have to let the changes become you. It’ll hurt for a while, but maybe if you let the nerds help you, it won’t hurt anymore.”

“What if it doesn’t get better? What if it will always hurt?”

“Then I scrap everyone who took part in doing this to you.”

“Whirl, I can’t turn my eyes back on.”

“Alright, stay calm and just think of the light and everything you want to see. Better yet, think of how handsome I am, then you’ll get there.”

You felt air vent through you as if you were taking a deep breath, then after doing as instructed, your optics flashed on.

“There you go. Now, do you want me to radio the others and tell them where you are, or…?”

“Can you give me a few minutes. I- I don’t think I’m ready for the others yet.”

“You got it bone bag. Want me to take uh…” He gestured to the wrapped-up corpse.

You nodded, “Yeah, I don’t want to see that again.”

“Do you at least want me to tell Swerve that you’re okay?”

The question upset you. You vaguely remembered yelling various obscenities at Swerve between screaming when you woke up. He hadn’t deserved it, but you wanted to hurt him as much as you were hurting at the time. “I don’t- I need to see him myself Whirl. I was so horrible to him. I never thought I’d hurt him like that. It disgusts me… I disgust me.”

“We’re all hideous when we’re hurting. What really matters is that you’re feeling bad about it. You wanna make it up to the orange guy? Go back to him.”

You nodded, “Yeah, okay. I’m just gonna need a little bit longer to figure some things out… Cover for me?”

“You got it meat wad,” Whirl said, getting up and carefully taking the corpse with him.

After a few minutes of trying to assess your new body, you got up and decided to get a good look at it. You still felt fractured, but after the conversation with Whirl, it was almost like your mind was starting to heal, at least on reasoning anyway. At the driver’s seat of the Rod Pod, you could see yourself in the mirror Rodimus had installed for motivational speech practice.

“It’s not so bad,” You said aloud. “I wonder how I transform and drive this thing.”

“Drive sequence initiated,” The Rod Pod’s automatic computer said, sealing the doors and rumbling as it took off.

“WHAT?!” You squealed. “NO. HANG ON A MINUTE.”

“Hangar doors opening.”

“STOP CHANGING MY WORDS. STOP ENGINE. LET ME OUT. I HAVE TO GET TO SWERVE.”

“Ship taking off, course locked in.”

You banged your fists against the control panel, “DON’T YOU DARE TAKE OFF.”

“Take off confirmed. Please, sit back and enjoy the new autopilot, Captain Rodimus.”

“I’M NOT RODIMUS. LET ME OUT, RIGHT NOW, YOU ABSOLUTE HEAP OF- ARGHHHHHH,” You screamed as you were thrown forward by the ship’s hyperdrive. Fear overtook you while memories of the last time you were launched into space surfaced. Back then, you thought you were going to die. This time, you were afraid Swerve might, if he thought you had abandoned him.

In an attempt to fix the situation, you tried to use your internal communicator to call Swerve and leave a message for him. You cried his name, telling him that you were coming back, over and over again, and that you loved him; it was a message Swerve would never receive.

Swerve sobbed hideously on the floor of his hab-suite, holding one of your old shirts to his face. By now, everybody had seen the footage of the Rod Pod flying out of the hangar, with you at the helm, looking all manner of furious.

He should have told you about the body. He could have a million times over, and yet pure cowardice had held him back, and now you had left him. From the moment the two of you started a relationship, everyone had said it was doomed, but Swerve had dared to dream, and look where it had gotten him.

This time, Swerve was sure it was the end. As soon as he stopped crying, he knew he would finally end his life. He had attempted it before, multiple times, but this time would be different. He wouldn’t simply wait to waste away. This time, he would take the kill shot. One bullet to the processor ought to do it; one bullet would end the pain.

Whirl kicked at the brig door, roaring all manner of creative insults that should never be repeated. Of course that idiot Getaway would report him for stealing your corpse, and of course nobody would listen to him after he beat the hell out of Getaway for trying to take it away from him.

He had to get out and warn everyone that you hadn’t left the ship and that you were going to go back to Swerve, but how could he when the brig was soundproof? He didn’t know exactly what had happened, having only caught the beginning of the announcement before being apprehended, but he knew in his spark that you hadn’t left on purpose.

Either some kind of accident had happened, or something had forced you off the ship. One way or another, Whirl would get out and warn everybody about you. Well… There was only one way out of the brig and Whirl had never needed to do it, but he would now, for you. He had been your mech of honour, and that hadn’t changed just because your wedding was over.

Whirl glared at the only camera in the brig, knowing that it wasn’t constantly monitored, but that it was checked once or twice per cycle. Turning his pain receptors off, he retrieved a knife that he had hidden in the brig long ago for just such an occasion, and he stabbed himself in the chassis. It was an injury fatal enough to be noticed, but not so damaging that it would kill him. As an extra precaution in case he passed out, Whirl used his own energon to write on the walls.

(Y/N) NOT GONE. SHIP TOOK OFF BY ACCIDE-

Shock overcame Whirl as his vision faded. Evidently, he was wrong; he had hit something fatal, and unless someone checked the camera soon, he was going to die.

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flannelpunkcalum · 5 years ago

Text

Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat - Chapter 2

last chapter

i know absolutely nothing about the law except how to break it babyyyyyy so if this chapter is inaccurate you can’t blame me. I tried. As always, if you’ve got comments, questions, feedback, lmk! content warning for some PTSD-like elements.

tdwk masterlist

ttlb masterlist (in progress)

* * *

Aspen would have really liked to drive with Calum to the DA’s office, but she was a logical person, she understood the value of taking separate cars.

Pros:

She could go straight home from the DA’s office

It looked less suspicious

She could pick the music

Calum got driven everywhere by Alfred anyways so it really didn’t matter to him

Cons:

There was no chance of stopping for car sex

Being such a reasonable and intelligent person, she didn’t complain when Calum said he would walk her to her car, then follow with Alfred and meet her again at the DA’s office. She just nodded, bundling her work into her bag and letting him lead her out without any shenanigans. They probably didn’t have time to get wound up before the meeting, and as much as she wanted him to push her up against a wall again she was willing to be patient. Since it wasn’t yet 5, the elevator was empty all the way down to the parking garage, and in the cube she leaned into Calum and rested her head on his shoulder.

She had never met with a DA or anything - hell, she’d never stepped foot into a courtroom. Calum had told her when Carl Finch had first gotten in contact that he was probably going to ask her to testify in person at Liam’s trial, and possibly Falcone’s, too. Calum hadn’t explained that it could put a target on her back. He hadn’t needed to. Aspen was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter, anyways. She was a loose end for the mob, but she also had the protection of the Bat on her side. If she didn’t speak up, who would?

Calum forgot himself as they left the elevator, and kept his hand on the small of her back as he walked her towards her car. It took him almost twenty seconds to remember himself. That didn’t sound like much, but Aspen would take whatever she could from him. By the time her car was in sight, he had dropped his hand, but the backs of their knuckles brushed as they paused and he reached out to open the door for her. She was always counting touches.

“Wait for me at the front door, and I’ll be by a few minutes after you, alright?” Calum said as she settled into the driver’s seat.

“Sounds good. See you soon.” She nodded as professionally as possible. He closed the door, but he didn’t walk away until she had pulled out and rounded the corner, cutting him out of view.

She took a deep breath as she wound her way through the looming Gotham streets. Every so often she forgot that she had been attacked by Liam and put through - through that whole thing. But every so often she’d catch someone staring at her scar or she’d work late and get nervous dropping down into the parking garage and it would all come back. She couldn’t unbecome who she was now, she knew that, but forgetting was a gift every so often.

She put on some nice 80s pop to lift her spirits, which Calum didn’t like. The memory of the first time she’d jammed out to it in front of him made her smile, and that helped her get to the DA’s office without sinking into her head too much. She only wondered about the possibility of some hired gun waiting for her to flutter into his crosshairs as she entered the courthouse briefly, just while she was waiting for Calum to show, and she considered that a win. And she didn’t get shot, so it didn’t really matter in the end.

She had half-expected Calum to nod and smile to every cop and receptionist they passed by, but he was in entitled-millionaire mode as the front desk directed them to Finch’s office. It made sense when she thought about it; neither Calum Hood nor Batman would have been rubbing elbows with the paralegals down at the DA’s office. She remembered being on the receiving end of that behavior. It had made Calum so hateable back then. Now, she felt a little special that his softness was reserved for her.

Once they reached Finch’s personal office, they had barely mentioned their names to the secretary before the DA was on his way out, straightening his tie and grinning warmly at Calum. Cal immediately eased up too; when they shook hands, he even patted Finch’s shoulder. “How’ve you been, Finch? Surprised I didn’t see you at the children’s fundraiser.”

Carl Finch shook his head almost sheepishly. He didn’t look ruthless, but Aspen tried not to think about him going toe to toe with Falcone. Maybe he could be formidible when he needed to be? She hoped so. She knew what that was like. As it was, though, he looked like he should be at the stands of some little league game, not wrapped up in... this. “Someone had to keep Gotham running while the commissioner was mingling. I didn’t expect you to come by.” He shrugged, waiting for Calum to laugh politely at his excuse before turning to Aspen. “Ms. McMichael, right? Pleasure to meet you face to face.”

It was Aspen’s turn to shake hands and make pleasantries. At least his handshake was firm. “Likewise. Don’t worry, I was at the gala, you didn’t miss much.” She said, smiling.

“Oh, were you? Well, I suppose - given what brings us here today, I should have figured.” Finch’s polite smile suddenly didn’t reach his eyes.

Oh no. She could feel how that had sucked the air out of the room all of a sudden. They all knew what had happened after. Should she try to acknowledge the elephant? Change the subject? She didn’t know how to recover from this. “Right, I guess you would know all the details, huh? I should have made that connection. But, uh, in case you were wondering the party really wasn’t that impressive anyways.” She tried to joke. It didn’t quite work.

“Glad to hear it. Well, shall we head into my office?” Finch said, looking at Calum.

“Oh, I’ve got some work to finish up at mine, I just thought I’d swing by and check in.” Calum said, and gave Aspen the tiniest of glances. Then, almost without a pause: “If you think there’s anything I should know, of course, I’d be happy to sit down with you two.”

That bastard! It took everything Aspen had in her to keep from glaring at Calum or stomping on his foot. He was going to try and get himself invited into her meeting so she couldn’t get mad at him for it. Well, if he thought he was being smart, he wasn’t. She wasn’t spineless, she could take care of this herself. She’d get him out of there if she had to fake a breakdown for it.

“That’s probably a good idea, Mr. Hood.” Finch was already walking towards his office, leading them both in. Calum was such a fucking dickhead. She didn’t look at him as they entered; she wouldn’t acknowledge his temporary win. “You’re both at least somewhat involved in this, so I think we should all, you know, be on the same page in this.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I think it’s only natural that I should want to be here.” Aspen could hear an almost playful edge in Calum’s voice, which she knew was meant for her, but she kept her eyes focused on Finch. She knew this was his delayed rebuttal to her argument earlier that morning - Liam and I are just unfortunate employees of yours. I think it might be a little suspicious - and she was only a little bit amused at his tactics.

If he wanted war, he’d get war.

Her mind was buzzing as she sat down at Finch’s desk. How could she get Calum out of this? Could she claim conflict of interest? Let herself cry and ask him if he could leave, she didn’t want her boss to see her this way? She was so busy trying to think up a way to subtly kick Calum out she almost forgot to be nervous.

“First things first, let me put you in contact with the case agent for the case against Liam Payne. His name is Raymond Flat, he grew up in Gotham but joined the national attorney's office rather than join his family firm, and he’s a great liason. He’ll be contacting you directly when you’re subpoenaed - well. Let me explain.”

Now the lawyer came out. Finch’s voice lost the boyish edge as he leaned in, elbows on his desk. “As it stands, Mr. Payne has been indicted by a grand jury trial for kidnapping, second degree assault, breaking and entering, and trespassing. However, his lawyers are seeking a plea bargain, and given the case the city is building against Falcone it… it would be in everyone’s best interest if he accepted it.”

“Given the danger he placed my employee in, that’s ridiculous.” Calum butted in. “How is Ms. McMichael supposed to believe that he won’t do it again?”

Finch didn’t look phased. “We believe that without the influence of Falcone, Mr. Payne never would have attacked your personal assistant. He’s not unstable, he doesn’t belong in Arkham, and after serving his time I personally believe he’ll be able to reintegrate into society quite well.”

“He was integrated into society when he attacked Aspen. He was holding down a good job at my company and doing regular things, and then he sedated my assistant, threw her in the trunk of his car, chained her to a chair, dangled her out a window, slapped her around, and stood by while she was tortured.” Calum was getting mad. The switch to her first name made Aspen nervous; Finch would probably notice that. She couldn’t even put a hand on him to calm him down without making the situation look worse, even though she could feel the anger radiating off him. She had been right to try to ban Calum from coming, but the confirmation didn’t feel satisfying right now.

...wait, he what? Aspen hadn’t known about the trunk of his car. She had never really thought too hard about how she got to the construction site, only - fuck. Her stomach twisted.

Finch was rolling with it well enough - he barely looked startled by the outburst. “In another world, you would have made a damn good prosecutor, Hood.” He said, shaking his head. “You make some excellent points, and I hope that you can pass them along to Raymond. Ultimately, since he’s being tried on felony charges, Liam Payne is being prosecuted on a national level and as a district attorney, I can only try to influence that. I can’t control it. I’m just trying to prepare you both for what’s to come in the next few weeks so you’re not surprised.”

She dared a glance over at Calum. His jaw was working, but his breathing was even. After a minute, he nodded. “Appreciate that.” He said, after another pause. “It’s just that it happened under my nose, at my company headquarters, targeting me. I want my employees to feel safe at work, sure, but beyond that I should have seen it coming. I should have fired Payne outright when he first started acting suspiciously. This shouldn’t have happened and I blame myself.”

“I don’t.” Aspen said. Both men turned to look at her. Fuck them both. Shaken or not, they had forgotten about her opinion in all this, and that pissed her off. “I don’t blame anyone but Liam and Falcone. Um, with that being said, I’d also be comfortable with Liam getting a plea bargain.”

“After what he did to you-”

“After what he did to me I’m in the best possible position to judge this situation, Mr. Hood.” Aspen repeated, not without force. “I…”

For a split second, she thought about the trunk. About Liam lifting her ragdoll body into it, tucking her gently into a fetal position before closing the door on her. His coworker, his friend, like a piece of luggage in the back of his car. Even the floor of the backseat would have been better. She looked up and realized she had paused just a second too long. “I - sorry - I think that if I had talked he wouldn’t have hurt me and he would have done everything in his power to keep me from getting killed. I think that Falcone is more dangerous and also, given how corrupt this city is, no offence, more likely to get off with a slap on the wrist. We’re lucky he hasn’t been released on bail. Maybe Liam won’t even take the plea because he doesn’t want to snitch, but I definitely support an offer.” She said, finishing strong. Thank god.

Calum didn’t look happy, but he settled back into his chair, relaxing slightly. Maybe he’d write off her little freeze up as a manipulative move. “...if you say so.”

Aspen almost physically bit her tongue to keep herself from firing back a response. She didn’t want to fight with Calum in front of Finch. She didn’t want to fight with him at all, really, but he had to get used to the fact that she had as strong a will as he did and she wasn’t going to let him dictate her life, no matter what he thought was best. She was gonna make the hard choices for herself. That was no one’s job but hers. And the quality of mercy was not strained, ok? Liam had tried to spare her, she was almost sure, and the least she could do was try to return the favour. Even if it was hard.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve had the chance to go over that.” Finch said, standing up. “Now, Hood, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go over testimony with Ms. McMichael for a minute. If you don’t mind stepping out - obviously, confidentiality and all -”

“Of course.” Calum said. His eyes tracked over to Aspen for just a second before he stood up. “I understand completely. Thanks for the chance to go over some of these details. I’ll let you know how it goes with Raymond.”

“Absolutely. I’ll walk you out of my office.” Finch said, giving Aspen a quick “wait here” look. “I meant to mention, I never see you at the club. How’s your short game coming along?” Calum laughed stiffly, and then he was gone and Aspen was left alone.

She had to settle herself. Talking about that night didn’t bother her so much anymore. She had told it so many times - to the cops, to her roommates, to her family - that it felt almost like something she could joke about. You think your deskmate stealing your pens is bad? She didn't know why that one detail was suddenly throwing her.

Her burner phone buzzed in her bag. Will u come to mine once ur done? x

Was she in trouble? Whatever. At least this way she could have dinner at the Manor and not have to go home before the night's watch started.

Finch was back. He noticed her leg bouncing anxiously at her side, she saw his gaze pause on it. "Thanks for waiting. I'm sure while you were working with Hood you got used to people vying for his attention."

"Yours was fairly dignified vying, Mr. Finch." Aspen smiled thinly.

He chuckled. “Thank you. You can just call me Carl, by the way.”

“Anytime, Carl. So, um, I just wanted to say that I’d be comfortable testifying in both cases. Falcone’s especially.”

Finch looked surprised. “Of - of course, and we’ll make all the necessary arrangements for your safety during that process. I hope you don’t feel pressured to do so, because - and if I can be honest, Aspen - it’s very possible that he will make attempts to keep you from testifying, one way or another. It’s not selfish to consider your own safety.” Parts of this speech seemed prepared; evidently, he had expected to need to convince her in this meeting. She had never given him permission to call her Aspen.

She bit her tongue. “Yeah, well, I’m already a loose end. The way I see it, he attacked me when I was of no consequence to him, so I don’t see why me not testifying would change much.” Not to mention that with Calum looking after her, she had the best bodyguard in the city. He saved her life once, he could do it again no sweat. She was tougher, now, too. If Falcone wanted her dead, he was really gonna have to work for it this time.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re willing to help us out.” Carl said, and then paused in a way that made Aspen very nervous. “There was another thing I was meaning to ask you about, if that’s alright?”

The “can I ask you a question” question. Aspen hated when people did that. What was she supposed to do, say no? Knowing that she couldn’t deny a request to request, but also knowing the question’s content was gonna suck? She girded her loins. “Ask away.”

“We’d like you to encourage Liam to take the plea deal.”

Aspen almost had to catch her breath. “What, like you want /me/ to try to convince him personally?” She said slowly, dread mounting.

“His testimony would help us build a really strong case against Falcone. He hasn’t said two words together to anyone so far, he’s refusing to cooperate with his council, and we think that given your personal history -”

“That’s not fair.” She interrupted, shaking her head. “You want me to - what, send him a letter begging him to do less time for what he did to me? I mean, I support the offer and all, I just - I can’t be the one to ask him that.” She rubbed her eye. There was too much nervous energy in her to keep still. Fuck, she was not getting enough sleep for this.

Finch waited for her to finish before he spoke back up. “Actually, we were hoping you’d talk to him in person.”

“...You can’t be serious.”

“Aspen -”

“Don’t call me that.” Aspen snapped, and she didn’t feel bad when Carl flinched. “I don’t care if this is special circumstances or whatever. The fact remains that - that he did what he did to me and I don’t want to go near him. Or hear his voice.” She realized her chest was heaving. Wow, this made her mad. In the stunned silence she could feel them both realize exactly how far she would go to avoid this.

Finch licked his lips, taking a moment for them both to collect themselves. “...Understood. I appreciate your candor in this. You know I had to ask.”

You didn’t. “I know.”

“As long as there’s no hard feelings -”

Aspen shrugged. She wanted this over with. “You’re just trying to do your job. You’re the DA, not my therapist. It is what it is.”

“I know this whole process has been hard for you, and I just want you to know that I appreciate your cooperation in all of these areas.”

Despite herself, she smiled. “You can give it a rest. I’m not gonna tattle on you to Hood, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I -” Finch stopped, and looked at her, and then he smiled a little too, like he felt like it was safe. “I won’t deny that’s a factor.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Aspen shook her head. She was just tired. “He’s been, uh, fun to have in my corner. I did not know he was going to be coming today, so that was fun.”

All she got in response was a confused look. “I know I didn’t invite him to the office.”

Shit. Was that suspicious? “Oh, yeah,yeah, I know, I mentioned it to him in passing when he was checking in on me at work. The man invites himself.” She said casually, waving her hand like it could hide her pounding heart. “Anyway. Is there anything else you wanted to go over, or…”

“No, that’s about all I had. Reach out to Raymond Flat - I’m sure he has your info but I think it’d be best for you to have a closer relationship with him. Liam’s case is obviously going to go to trial before Falcone’s, so when we meet next that’s what we’ll focus on.” Finch stood to show her out, reaching out to shake her hand across the desk. Aspen subtly wiped her hand on her thigh first. She didn’t want him to get an idea of how nervous this had made her.

“Sounds good. I’m glad I met with you today.” She said, and to her surprise she wasn’t really lying. It was good that this had happened. Even if it had dragged all that stuff up, they’d also moved forwards.

“Likewise, Ms. McMichael.”

Ha. He almost made it sound natural.

Aspen bit her tongue as he walked her out. Figuratively, of course. She made small talk, wished him a good evening, all that shit. Inside, though, she was bursting with things unsaid. She really didn’t mind him calling her by her first name, but she did mind him using it only when he was trying to manipulate her, and of course she wanted to tell him that so he didn’t think she was some kind of asshole, but that would involve acknowledging his ruse, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t polite? They both knew what he was trying to do, and she was pretty sure he knew that she knew, and - fuck. This was like Calum all over again. She had to stop playing these mind games with herself.

On the drive to the manor, she tapped her thumb on the steering wheel at every red light. If she wasn’t driving, she would be bouncing her foot, too, trying to get the anxious energy out. She didn’t know why being unknowingly shoved into a car trunk - fuck - made her get this way. She couldn’t even remember it, so why - why did she feel like she had to pull the car over to retch?

She wanted to speed, but she kept herself in check. Driving like a maniac wasn’t gonna be a good coping mechanism, at least not in this traffic. Maybe Calum had a private race track under the manor she could borrow one day. There was room for one, anyways. Who knew.

These days, who fucking knew.

#this is kind of a nonchapter #but i'm excited for what's happening next week!!!#every so often i write a chapter where you won't like it if you don't like Aspen #and that's just too bad!! she's a delight #My writing #ch blurb #ch fic #calum hood fic #5sos fic #ttlb 2 #ttlb #5 seconds of summer

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connorssock · 6 years ago

Text

Beloved Monster

Growing up, Gavin had all the typical fears of a child. That there was something in his closet, a monster under his bed, haunted attic. Wherever he went, he never felt alone. As a child, it was terrifying but as he grew older, he got used to it and to an extent took comfort in it. It was why he never got worried about living alone, some people hated it, Gavin didn’t mind.

It was only when he stumbled home from a double shift in the early hours of the morning that he began to question his sanity. He’d missed dinner but was too tired do much more than pop a few slices of bread in the toaster and grab the ham from the fridge. In line with his usual luck, a piece of ham slipped from between his fingers and fell to the floor with a splat. Immediately, his cat was prowling towards it and Gavin’s sleepy mind panicked. Not thinking, he kicked the ham under the fridge and out of reach.

“Thanks,” a soft hiss came and Gavin blinked.

“Did you just speak?” he asked the cat.

“No, it was me.” The voice was grating, like metal scraped over rusty metal. There was nothing Gavin could say to that other than “huh” and ump when the toast popped out.

“Want me to make you one too?” he offered, mind addled and half asleep.

“Please.”

Obediently, Gavin assembled another ham and cheese on toast and slid it under the fridge.

“Thanks.”

“Cool, I’m going to hit the sack. Have a good night,” Gavin turned the kitchen light off and stumbled into bed.

In the morning he almost laughed at himself and his sleep addled mind. Of all the things to hallucinate from exhaustion, a voice under his fridge which asked for some food was a new one. He basked in bed for a few more minutes, delaying the inevitable of having to fish out the ham and cheese on toast from under the fridge, now probably coated in age old dust.

Still, it had to be done and once he was finally up, cat food sorted, he knelt down by the fridge and peered under it. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. A torch revealed nothing unusual either, not even a greasy stain where the toast had been. Scratching his head, Gavin tutted to himself, perhaps he’d dreamt the whole thing.

It was only a few days later that he was in the kitchen again that the fridge let out its usual groan as he moved to bin some gone off yoghurt. His hand stilled and he looked at the appliance.

“Was that you?” He felt so silly asking out loud whether his fridge had groaned. But it didn’t compare to his fright when the voice from before gurgled out a “maybe”.

“Cool,” he stalled for time, uncertain what to say. “You hungry?”

“Yes.”

As far as conversations went, it was a pretty stilted one. Whatever lived under his fridge didn’t seem capable of more than one word answers. Which was fair enough, Gavin wondered if he was an entity that lived in cramped, dark places, he too might struggle with words.

“Got a name?” It only seemed polite to ask. The response was a garbling hiss of consonants that should not have been possible to pronounce.

“Is that your name? Or is that you having a breakdown? Shit, you didn’t touch the electricity outlet, did you?”

“No. Name.” The voice repeated what could have been the same sounds as before, or something utterly different but Gavin’s ears caught on a bit.

“That’s getting a little too long for me to pronounce. But part of it sounded like Nines. So I’m going to call you Nines, okay?”

“Okay. Nines. Good. Like.”

If Gavin didn’t know any better, the voice sounded pleased.

From then on, Gavin’s waste took a serious nosedive. Anything on the turn or gone off could be shoved under the fridge and Nines happily chomped away on it. Sometimes, especially if it was something he very much enjoyed, the odd gurgling slurp accompanied it.

Gavin also made changes to his home. Nines was fond of dark, small crevices to hide in. The fridge was his favourite but he also liked to hang out under the washing machine in the bathroom while Gavin brushed his teeth. In the living room, Gavin sold his old coffee table and replaced it with one that sat low on the ground and was wider than his previous one. An additional benefit was that he could put his feet up much more comfortably while they watched TV. His wardrobe was a comforting nook for Nines to hide out in. More often than not, some of Gavin’s jumpers would migrate into the back corner of it, pulled from their hangers. In the end, Gavin just bought a couple more and let Nines rotate them as he pleased.

They had a bit of a game going on too. Some days, Gavin would sneak up on whatever furniture Nines was chilling under and suddenly peer under it with a torch. It was always met by a wry chuckle from somewhere else. How Nines knew Gavin was trying to catch a glimpse of him was a mystery. No matter how silent or abrupt Gavin was, Nines always evaded him.

“Why can’t I see you?”

“Ugly. Scary.”

“Well, you put up with my ugly and scarred ass, can’t be much worse than me,” Gavin tried to make a joke but the alarming growl he got in response had him backing up.

“Not ugly.”

It wasn’t something Gavin was willing to argue over, Nines sounded cross enough and Gavin had seen the things he’d eaten. He really didn’t want to be next on the menu.

“Got any family?” he tried to change tact.

“Brother. Happy.” Another string of garble followed that Gavin guessed was a name. Much like with Nines’ own name, he tried to find something that a human could pronounce.

“Let’s call him Connor, sounds close enough.” Then something struck him. “You say happy. Is that you happy or him happy?”

“Him.” Nines sounded as gentle as he ever could.

“What about you? Are you happy?” It was a heavy question and only when Gavin asked it did he realised how much he wanted the answer to be a yes.

“Almost.”

It crushed Gavin’s heart more than he thought it would. He nodded and made a little noise of acknowledgement, uncertain how to ask what he could do to make Nines happy.

In the end, he didn’t ask. But he made sure to take note of all the things Nines enjoyed more. He bought cherry yoghurt and left it in the sun for a few days before spooning it under the fridge. If sometimes he dipped a pickle in it just he hear Nines’ happy little hums, that was pure coincidence.

He also invested in blackout curtains and some evenings, he sat on the sofa in pitch black as he and Nines talked. Over time, Nines had started to string words together into sentences. Occasionally, Gavin could have sworn Nines’ voice came from the far end of the sofa, along with waves of warmth that definitely didn’t emanate from the radiators.

“Do you ever get bored just lounging in the house?” Gavin asked one night. Nines was either in the wardrobe or, since Gavin had changed to a bed with small legs, under that.

“Too bright. Too scary. Nobody want to see Nines.”

“Oh buddy, don’t put yourself down. Anyway, I think I have an idea. Would you fit in the hood of a jacket? Or a bag?” Gavin’s mind was whirling a mile a minute. He wasn’t sure how big Nines actually was. But if he fit in small dark crannies, perhaps he could curl up small.

“Fall out hood. Too heavy for bag.”

“I want to try the bag idea anyway. It would be nice to have you tag along whenever you fancied,” Gavin pressed the idea even as another one cropped up. “Hey Nines?”

“Yes?”

“You know I like you, right?” There was a soft tremor in his voice. He didn’t want to mess things up but he wanted as much as Nines was willing to offer.

“Yes?”

“Want to get on the bed? You always feel so warm and it’s a bit chilly.”

The refusal was not unexpected and Gavin didn’t take it to heart. If anything, he’d learnt that Nines was tremendously shy. Just getting him to sit on the couch had been a feat which took weeks of asking. So Gavin settled in to do the same with the bed. Each night, he asked Nines if he’d like to join him for a cuddle. And each night Nines refused. But his voice became less firm over time.

Things changed one night when Gavin had stumbled home from another late shift. He was tired, the case was dragging and there was something missing from the picture. Nobody could pinpoint it, but they were so close. Gavin never noticed that he was being followed home.

He opened his door but before he had a chance to flick the lights on, someone was barrelling into him from behind. They tumbled into the house, a hand pressed over Gavin’s mouth to keep him quiet. He struggled, kicked and scratched to no avail. There was the sound of a knife being pulled free and Gavin froze. He knew what was coming, the inevitable pain of a knife burying itself into his flesh. Bracing for it never helped but he tensed in anticipation all the same.

A slurping sound accompanied the sudden loss of tension in the body behind him. Almost in slow motion, it peeled away from him with more crunches and gulps. A soft burp sounded and Gavin tried to make sense of it all.

“You okay?” Nines’ familiar voice snapped him out of it.

“Fuck. Did you just eat him?”

“Yes.”

Gavin swore again and let out a laugh. He couldn’t very well report the incident now. There was no way to explain that the creature that had always lived under his bed since childhood had eaten his assailant. The absurdity of it all had Gavin laughing.

“Close the door, will you? It’s getting cold.”

He heard the door shut and even the faint glimmer of street lights was gone. Not bothering to turn a light on, Gavin picked his way through his home towards the bedroom, trusting Nines to help him stop falling over things.

Once in bed, he patted the space beside him.

“You going to come up for that cuddle then?”

“Yes.”

So it was, that at 1am on an unremarkable Thursday night, the mattress dipped and Gavin smiled.

#reed900 #dbh: rk900 #dbh: gavin #monster under the bed au #monster nines

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realm-sweet-realm · 4 years ago

Text

Your Own Medicine

Someone once asked me what it would take for Joey to start taking the ink-related problems in the studio seriously. I answered privately that I would show him. Well, here it is. (Or at least, my own best shot at fucking traumatizing the Drew.)

---

“They haven’t even started on the new branch of Heavenly Toys, and you increased their funding? Why?!” Joey yelled.

Grant looked only slightly nervous- a good sign, because lord knew he wouldn’t be if there were something to be mad about. “The basement where you wanted them to set up has a serious pest problem. The extra money is to call an exterminator. That’s all.”

Joey sighed. Of course. It was like everyone in this studio would take the slightest excuse to shirk work. “And they wouldn’t set up because the exterminator would have just torn everything down anyhow, right?”

Grant broke eye contact. This part was rather hard to believe, but it wasn’t his story, or his fault. “No. They said they heard growling down there. Someone described it as being like a wolf’s. They didn’t want to go down there until things were figured out.”

Now Joey understood. His prison for failed ink experiments was in the floor beneath where they were supposed to be setting up new toy-making devices. He’d just show Mr. Cohen the hatch from which the growling was coming from, and everything would get moving again! Time was money, after all. “Oh!” he chirped, getting up from his chair. “Okay, this is an easy fix. Come along.”

As soon as the door creaked open to the basement, Joey could tell that things would be a little more difficult than that. For starters, the lights refused to turn on. By the light of the floor above it, Joey could see a floor littered with ink stains, empty bacon soup cans, and other debris. It was the type of environment that made a person whisper their words, even when there was no need to. “Did they mention anything about the lights not working?” Joey whispered.

“No,” Grant whispered back. “This must be new. Maybe a result of the pests.”

There were some flashlights on the steps- as though someone had set them up for them. Joey stepped into the dark basement, Grant right behind him, leaving the thin beams of their flashlights as their only way of seeing once the door closed. Joey shivered. He really regretted the floor’s maze-like layout now. But, the plan remained the same- show Grant the hatch door, go back. Wouldn’t take more than ten minutes.

As they went on, the environment became more ink-soaked. The black floors and black walls were almost blinding, leaving the duo to rely on touch as much as eyesight to find their way. Not three minutes into their journey, Joey walked straight into a wall with a thud. The growl that emerged in response was none that he’d ever heard before. It didn’t sound like any of his ink creatures. What was more, it sounded close. Suddenly, going on until they found the hatch seemed like a very bad idea.

“You see?” Joey said, somehow finding it in him to sound confident. “I have an experiment right behind this wall. But it’s locked up, nice and safe. Tell the Heavenly Toys department to give me a couple hours, and they can get going. Alright?”

A second growl sounded. This one sounded closer. “You’re sure it’s locked up, Mr. Drew?”

“Yes,” Joey growled. Joey looked around with his flashlight, finding what he was looking for: a fire axe, hung up on the wall. He took it down and nearly threw it into Grant’s hands. “Here, take this if you’re so nervous. Leave the flashlight. I’ll lead.” Lord knew that Joey felt less anxious with one of them armed. Where were those growls coming from? Had one of his creatures mutated and escaped?

They carried on back. Joey thought he remembered the way they’d come- two lefts, two rights, another left... but he quickly found himself with no idea where they were. He could hear that creature coming closer- hear that third set of footsteps sloshing through the ink. Finally, they passed a projector playing a “Nightmare Picnic.” By the increased light, Joey could tell somewhat where they were, and he eased immediately. There was a floor map in one of the nearby rooms- he just needed to figure out which, and maybe they’d be okay. Then, a black, inky hand appeared from behind the wall. Joey screamed and dodged into a nearby room, locking the door behind them. The next thing he did was to hang his flashlight from the ceiling- it wasn’t much light, but it would have to do. Grant looked to Joey, desperate for guidance. He tried to say something, but Joey shushed him. There was paper and pencils on the table in front of them, so Grant wrote out his message instead.

What are we going to do?

Joey took a pencil and wrote back, stay quiet for a few minutes so that thing will go away, then leave. We can’t be far from the stairs up now.

I saw that thing’s face, Grant wrote back. It looked like Norman Polk. He wasn’t feeling brave enough to accuse Joey of anything, but he’d seen what he’d seen, and was very curious about what Joey would have to say about it.

Joey knew it was impossible. Sammy had noticed Norman getting infected about two weeks ago- long enough that he’d feel sick, but certainly not long enough to make him go crazy. He and Sammy weren’t planning on kidnapping Norman for another few days yet- they had plenty of time. It isn’t, Joey wrote.

Are you sure? He went missing a few days ago. And a few days before that, his wife asked me to talk to him because he had been acting really irrational and she didn’t know what was wrong. I don’t know what she expected me to do that she couldn’t- I guess she was just desperate. But he was very clearly on the brink of a mental breakdown. He even said that he needed to ‘go away’ for everyone’s good. Of course, I tried to steer him away from that and suggested he go to a hospital, but that was the last time I saw him. Maybe this was where he ended up.

Cold dread filled Joey as he read the message. There was no way- no way that the ink had affected Norman that profoundly after only a few weeks. But then... Joey thought of just how strange Norman was. His stalking, his strange questions, his reputation in the music room as an awkward creep. He was the kind of person whose movements, whose inflections of voice, whose shifty eyes all read strangeness- if not danger. Joey would have been surprised if the man didn’t have some sort of underlying issues. Maybe the ink had gotten to him quicker because of that.

Maybe you're right. We'll handle that once we've got the lights turned back on. But for right now, let's just focus on getting out. I think it's been long enough.

With that, the duo stepped out. The hallway was partially illuminated now, by a projector playing a Bendy cartoon against a wall. Joey hadn't made it five steps before a hand came out of the shadows and Joey felt himself being picked up by the collar and slammed against a wall. There could be no doubt now- his assailant was- or had been- Norman Polk, and looking none too good for a man only recently infected with ink. His entire right side was ink- his right hand black and cold as ice against Joey's chest while the other was white-knuckled and warm. Tendrils of ink spread across his face like veins, but left both of those angry, savage eyes untouched.

"What are you doing?" he growled. "You here to lock me up? Cause that's not gonna happen. Here to get rid of me So I can't spill your secrets?" It was almost amazing that such an animalistic voice could even produce words.

Grant spoke up. "Actually Norman-"

Norman turned to look at him briefly, then immediately turned back to Joey. "Oh. Or maybe you're here to do with him what you did to me, huh?"

Norman's lips peeled back from his teeth, blindingly white against the black ink. Then, with an animalistic bark, he began raining punches on Joey's face and chest with his right hand. Joey squeezed his mouth and eyes shut in a desperate attempt to keep the ink out. Momentarily, the blows stopped, and Joey heard Norman yell the words, "Stay out of this!" followed by Grant yelping in pain. It was in this moment that Joey managed to wriggle out of Norman's grasp, falling down onto the ink-flooded floor. "Run!" he yelled, before following his own advice. Hearing Norman roar with pain, he looked back to see that Grant had planted his axe in Norman's shoulder before following behind. Thankfully it seemed to be slowing him down. After they exited the illuminated hallway, they were in complete darkness, running into walls and feeling their way through. Finally, Joey saw it- the chink of light beneath the door that they'd escape through. Norman could be heard lumbering behind them, moving quickly but somewhat heavily. Stumbling over discarded cans and slowed by sticky ink, the pair made it to the exit and scrambled out. Joey locked the door behind them.

The two men looked at each other a moment. They were back in the light now, but it was as though they'd dragged the inky darkness back with them. Joey's face was covered in ink, along with the spot on his shirt where Norman had grabbed him. Grant had fared better, with only what resembled inky claw marks across his face. Finally, Grant broke the silence. "We need to talk. Your office or mine?"

Once they were safely out of the view of others, Joey attempted to explain himself. "Okay. I know that looked bad, but... but..." what explanation was there? Joey realized then that he'd have to kill Grant- he'd seen too much. At least it wasn't someone more irreplaceable. "I give up," he sighed, sitting back down in his chair.

Grant was evidently holding back tears. "You need to get this under control- whatever it is," he said, sounding more mournful than angry.

"I agree with you! And I promise I will!"

"Promise? With all due respect, Mr. Drew, a promise is what I make when I tell everyone that their delayed paychecks will be coming next week. I don't know, and I don't totally control it. And I have a feeling that this is the same way! I need more than a promise, Mr. Drew. Please."

"Go back to your office." Joey said in a low voice, hoping to be left alone. It really didn't matter what Grant thought of him if he'd have to kill him anyhow, and Joey was too emotionally drained to deal with this.

Grant got up to leave- normally this situation would terrify him, but after being the encounter with Norman, he was running low on fear. "That was my best friend. If you don't do anything to keep this from happening again, I'm calling in the police. I don't want to lose my income, but..."

"Now!" Joey yelled, and Grant finally obeyed. Joey hated the tone of Grant's voice. If he'd been yelling and hysterical, that would have been one thing, but he'd spoken as though he were only stating truths.

For the rest of the day and into the night, Joey was plagued with worries about how he’d purge that beast from his studio, whether Grant could leak his secrets before he got the chance to kill him, and whether anyone else could, like Norman, succumb to ink too quickly to be noticed. And who was to say that, after being hit in the face with Norman’s infected hand over and over, that he wasn’t infected himself? Everything had gotten so far out of his control.

Once he was unconscious, however, all of his thoughtful, adult worries vanished and only his most visceral fears remained. Only that creature plagued his nightmares, once again standing over him, a beast of black ink over sickly white skin, trickling down into that big, gaping mouth and over those teeth. In his dream, they were as sharp and bloodstained as the teeth of a wolf.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #joey drew #grant cohen #norman polk

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osakaso5 · 5 years ago

Text

IDOLiSH7 4th Anniversary Special Story: Best Wishes...

Chapter 5: An Ultra Happy Four Years

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Yamato Nikaido: I wonder where everybody went.

Mitsuki Izumi: Maybe we should've just stayed put and waited?

Yamato Nikaido: Yeah, but I bet Riku and Tama are scared. We can't just leave them be.

Nagi Rokuya: Alright! Let us all sing while we look for them!

Nagi Rokuya: Our song will shine a light in the darkness, and bring our comrades to us!

Mitsuki Izumi: You think so?

Yamato Nikaido: But if we sing one of our songs, won't people recognize us?

Nagi Rokuya: OK! We shall sing the song of Cocona! "Magical Power", the ultimate song!

Yamato, Mitsuki, & Nagi: Magical Girl★Cocona, Magical★Cocona I Love You♥Cocona, If You're by My Side We'll Have ∞Power♪

Yamato, Mitsuki, & Nagi: Magical★Cocona, Magical★Cocona, 100 Times the Happiness!! An Invincible Angel♪

Gaku Yaotome & Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Love Love♥Cocona I Love You♥Cocona, If You're by My Side We'll Have ∞Power♪

Mitsuki Izumi: They're here..!

Yamato Nikaido: It really did bring us comrades!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Sorry, sorry! We heard a familiar tune, so we couldn't help singing along!

Gaku Yaotome: Do you guys work around here?

Mitsuki Izumi: Uh... Yeah, pretty much! What about you? I feel like I've heard your voices before...

Gaku Yaotome: I'm a soba delivery guy.

Mitsuki Izumi: A soba guy! You mean the one who always delivers to us?

Nagi Rokuya: OH! Thank you for all your hard work!

Yamato Nikaido: What about the other guy?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah, um, I'm the owner of the soba restaurant.

Yamato, Mitsuki, & Nagi: The owner!

Gaku Yaotome: Hey! How come you're higher up than me!?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: S-sorry, I came up with it on the spot!

Mitsuki Izumi: I thought the owner was a old guy, but I guess they must've replaced him with someone younger.

Yamato Nikaido: This dude's always hard at work.

Nagi Rokuya: YES! Please reward him!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: O-of course! I'll reward him plenty later! But do I know you from somewhere, too?

Gaku Yaotome: I feel like I've heard your voices before. Especially the guy who who's speaking with a weird accent...

Nagi Rokuya: Is that so?

Gaku Yaotome: Huh!? Maybe I was just imagining things... Sorry for saying you had a weird accent.

Nagi Rokuya: It's quite alright. I don't mind.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Where are you headed?

Yamato Nikaido: We got separated from our friends, so we're looking for them.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Same here. Maybe we can search together.

Mitsuki Izumi: Sounds good! We'll all have extra helping hands if there's trouble!

Nagi Rokuya: OK! Just as we did before, we shall hum the song as we search!

Gaku Yaotome: You sure you don't have a weird accent?

Nagi Rokuya: Let's go!

Yamato, Mitsuki, Nagi, Gaku, & Ryunosuke: Magical Girl★Cocona, Magical★Cocona I Love You♥Cocona, If You're by My Side We'll Have ∞Power♪

- - - -

Yuki: Do we have to walk more?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I'm tired of walking just to be polite.

Minami Natsume: If we can reach the staff floor, we should run into other people.

Torao Mido: Oh... Seems like there's benches around here. Should we rest up?

Yuki: Let's. I'm already tired from flying back here from Hokkaido.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Did you bring souvenirs?

Yuki: I guess? Momo bought something.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I hope it's some kinda snacks. Nagicchi likes cookies.

Minami Natsume: These people have no intention of hiding their identities...

Torao Mido: Good thing this blackout happened today. At least it won't cause trouble at the re-opening.

Minami Natsume: It seems the trouble we're in right now is doing nothing to diminish your usual optimism.

Torao Mido: As long as the actual event goes okay. Events like these always come with a hiccup or two. That's how it was in the student council, too.

Minami Natsume: What happened, for example?

Torao Mido: I couldn't go to the event myself, but we were volunteering at a bazaar and one of our reps messed up.

Torao Mido: They came back crying. At times like that, the people who did nothing to help are quick to blame whoever was in charge.

Torao Mido: After that, I stopped being the responsible one. Though Toma seems to like doing that stuff for some reason.

Yuki: I'm not very responsible myself, but people like that are reliable.

Torao Mido: ........

Tamaki Yotsuba: Totally. Though I'm not responsible, either. What did you say to the person who cried?

Torao Mido: "Don't sweat it. I'll take responsibility."

Yuki: So you protected them. You're a pretty nice yanki.

Torao Mido: And I'm telling you that I regret doing that. I don't take on bothersome roles like that anymore.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I bet the person who cried is still thankful for what you did.

Minami Natsume: ...Hopefully this blackout will be fixed soon, and nobody responsible will get in too much trouble.

Minami Natsume: I'm sure whoever was entrusted with the electronics for so many faculties can't have been too irresponsible.

Minami Natsume: I'm sure they wanted to do their job properly, just like everyone else.

Yuki: Right.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I hope they have a successful opening party tomorrow.

Minami Natsume: .......? Can you hear singing?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Totally... It's some kinda weird song...

Yuki: Let's go check it out.

Torao Mido: Yeah.

- - - -

Riku Nanase: We're lucky that strange person didn't follow us, but...

Momo: Now we're really lost. I don't even know which way we came from.

Ryo Tsukumo: Who's responsible for this!? I won't be satisfied until I insult them into having a mental breakdown!

Toma Inumaru: That's not gonna change anything. We're all in trouble here.

Toma Inumaru: Besides, even if we're lost in this darkness, we might find a surprise landmark.

Riku Nanase: A surprise landmark?

Toma Inumaru: Yeah. There was this one time when I got lost and couldn't find the place I had work at.

Toma Inumaru: Someone who was there was giving me instructions through the phone, but we didn't have any ladnmarks to help us with.

Momo: Ah, I get what you mean. This city's roads can get pretty complicated, and a lot of the stores look identical, too.

Riku Nanase: How did you reach the right place?

Toma Inumaru: A whole bunch of colorful balloons flew up into the sky. Maybe they were from a marriage ceremony or something.

Toma Inumaru: Thanks to that, we were able to figure out which way I was supposed to go.

Toma Inumaru: It was a job I really couldn't afford to be late for, so those balloons saved my ass.

Toma Inumaru: If I hadn't looked up to the sky back then, I might not have gotten I am now.

Riku Nanase: That's a very nice coincidence!

Toma Inumaru: I know, right?

Momo: Something like that happened in a movie I saw with Yu... my partner. It was a horror movie, but the ending will totally make you cry.

Momo: The balloons that fly into the sky at the end look nice and solemn, but apparently they were caught on camera completely by accident!

Toma Inumaru: Wow!

Momo: Even my partner, who hates horror, liked that ending.

Riku Nanase: Maybe I should watch it, too. What's the movie called?

Momo: Uh...

Ryo Tsukumo: Shh...

Toma Inumaru: W-what is it?

Ryo Tsukumo: I can hear strange singing...

Momo: ...Singing? Ah... You're right, someone is singing! It sounds kind of familiar, for some reason..?

Toma Inumaru: Seems like there's people that way, so maybe we should go check it out.

Riku Nanase: Yes! Haha... You were right, Mr. Shopkeeper's Brother.

Toma Inumaru: Hm?

Riku Nanase: We found a surprise landmark!

Toma Inumaru: Yeah! That's true.

Riku Nanase: Ah...

- - - -

Riku Nanase: The lights are back on!

Yamato Nikaido: Riku!

Mitsuki Izumi: Riku! Thank goodness! Are you okay?

Nagi Rokuya: We are reunited! I wanted to see you so..!

Riku Nanase: Yamato-san! And Mitsuki and Nagi!

Yamato Nikaido: Where were you?

Riku Nanase: I was with these people... Huh..?

Riku Nanase: ...They ran off somewhere...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Rikkun!

Iori Izumi: Nanase-san!

Sogo Osaka: Riku-kun! Everyone!

Riku Nanase: Ah! Guys! Over here..!

- - - -

Mall Broadcast: ...This is a message to all employees.

Mall Staff: Ah... The speakers are on.

Mall Broadcast: The electrical issues have been resolved. We're sorry for the delay.

Mall Broadcast: Please resume your preparations for the re-opneing.

Mall Staff: Oh, finally.

Mall Staff: Alright, let's get to work!

Tsumugi Takanashi: Thus, Sky Blue Mall overcame its electrical trouble and had its re-opening ceremony.

- - - -

Sky Blue Mall Manager: Well then, it's time for the re-opening of Sky Blue Mall!

- - - -

VR LAND Manager: VR LAND is opening with its new attraction, A Date with IDOLiSH7!

- - - -

Soba Chef Matsuda-san: My second store has been opened successfully. I look forward to your patronage!

- - - -

Anniversary's Owner: Welcome to Café Anniversary.

- - - -

Ryo Tsukumo: A happy four years to you guys, too.

Torao Mido: I'm still not sure what we're supposed to be celebrating...

Haruka Isumi: Who cares? It's all connected.

Torao Mido: What's that supposed to mean?

Haruka Isumi: A sushi chef told me that.

Toma Inumaru: Ryo-san you did make that call yesterday, right?

Ryo Tsukumo: I did. I certainly did. Minami, where did you get that balloon?

Minami Natsume: I got it after participating in the A Date with IDOLiSH7 VR experience. Here you are, Isumi-san.

Haruka Isumi: ...Don't you think balloons are kinda childish?

Minami Natsume: I think they're lovely.

Ryo Tsukumo: If you don't need it, can I pop it?

Haruka Isumi: No! I'll take it.

Torao Mido: A Date with IDOLiSH7, huh. Who'd you pick?

Minami Natsume: It's a secret.

Torao Mido: ........ Yamato Nikaido.

Toma Inumaru: Don't you mean Nagi Rokuya? Mina seems like he'd like his face.

Haruka Isumi: Don't you think he picked Sogo Osaka?

Minami Natsume: It's a secret.

Mall Event Staff: ŹOOĻ, we'll need you on stand by soon!

Mall Event Staff: Also... Happy 4th Anniversary!

ŹOOĻ: .........

ŹOOĻ: Thank you.

The end.

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2019 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool #other translations

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inexchangeforyoursoul · 6 years ago

Text

... apparently, these are becoming a weekly endeavor. (watch me getting an autoblock as soon as I post this) ( AO3 )

tl;dr Hawks is in high spirits (no pun intended), and Rumi’s Intrigued™

Meanwhile, somewhere not too far away, a vaguely annoyed Dabi is sneezing a whole lot, questioning whether his feeble ass is allergic to feathers.

(((I almost chose an angsty ending. Almost. But apparently I cannot do that with series and games that are not depression station in the first place, F.)))

“Say… you are in a reeeeeally good mood today, aren'tcha?” Rumi notes between two obnoxious milkshake slurps next to the remaining morsels of their lunch while taking a full round on the revolving barstool. It’s a Monday, it’s a conference day, a boring conference day where she’s about to kill herself out of sheer boredom… and Hawks, who’s usually also only present in body and ready to passive-aggressively tear the thing down, is radiating a hundred different levels and shades of sunlight. Of course she’s gonna jump on this.

“Huh?” the hero replies, returning to the present; the pen he’s got bouncing between two fingers while reading through the despair-inducingly thick paper pile in front of him (most likely invitations and offers of various kinds) never stops in its fast, metronome-like movement. The little smile that's been plastered over his face all day perks up a little as he looks at her, too. He’s obviously missed the question directed at him, but doesn't seem to be bothered by it.

“I said you are in a good fucking mood, twerp,” his friend repeats with a click of the tongue. Something’s definitely up. “And that you didn't catch it is all the damn proof I need. Haven't seen you this well-adjusted since… ever, actually.” Slurrrp.

“Aaah… guess so,” he muses with the rhythm slowing and a thoughtful expression for a change.

“I had the best fucking sleep ‘since ever’ is all.” The pause preceding this is uncharacteristically long, and his persistent smile returns before he even reaches the conclusion.

“You slept?” chortles Rumi in disbelief, then starts choking as some of the remaining milkshake finds its way to her lungs. The plausible fact that this alone could make him feel alive should not be this funny.

Hawks’ smile widens into a grin and he leans onto an elbow, shoving the documents aside. “Seven hours and thirteen whole-ass minutes, bitch. It's a new record!” It wasn't exactly that much, probably just under seven if he wanted to be honest. But point stands.

Once having regained composure, the heroine lets the information linger for a few seconds. Hmm. Hmmm… “Explains why you are functional and were late for the meeting. What it doesn’t explain is how you, Mr. 10 minutes ahead of everyone’s schedule… early bird extraordinaire… slept in.” That goofy expression is not his usual one, no. There's a snoop to be had, here. After a deep, deep, grin-ridden sigh, she turns back to him, leaning on the counter as well. “Has it got anything to do with dodging, like, all of my invitations lately? Hmm?” She wiggles her brows at him.

Man… she just went there, didn't she. Unfortunately, the persistent smile refuses to cover for him. In fact, it's more incriminating than anything, creeping wider once more. Well then. “Hasn't got as much to do with it as you would like, fam. There's only about… 15% of overlap.” Plus some change.

Maybe more, now that he thinks about it… because the disturbingly domestic (and even worse, occasionally comforting and enjoyable) shenanigans with the League have long outgrown the ‘meeting up with actual S-rank villains in my fake free time because spy lmao’ category. Rumi wouldn't buy that anymore, she's seen enough to know that he's full of shit.

There's a glint of a hunter’s in Rumi’s eyes… a hunter’s that has found fresh track. Her grin turns into a triumphant sneer. “So you do admit to seeing someone.”

The smile on Hawks’ face gains a streak of concern. “Please don't make me think about it in those terms,” he moans, furrowing his brows. “Any of the people I've been dealing with are freaks of nature.”

“So are we,” she notes, not missing a beat.

That earns a similarly fast fling-and-point of a pen in her general direction. “Word.”

She snickers. “Come on…! Tell me about that dreamy 15% that has you so pepped. I'm dying to know~”

He thinks about it for a bit. Then, the feathers of Hawks’ wings rustle, and he himself takes a gander around the restaurant; there's mostly heroes, sidekicks and managers gathered in the building in the first place, who are similarly disinterested in each other's dwindling lunch break times and private lives. While assessing the room, he's silently weighing his options as to how much he can say, and how he should choose his words.

“So… I've been roped into a kind of internship in the past months that I wanted nothing to do with, and am still hella iffy about,” he begins, keeping it just low enough for it to be not overly suspicious.

“Good start!”

“I know, right? Anyway… it's dirty work, but turned out to be tolerable, most of the time. The coworkers are all bonkers, but I've already come to the terrifying conclusion that I'm not all that different.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Hush, I'm telling your story…! Who you might be interested in, I think, is the contact person that keeps a close eye on me even today.”

“OOOH, this is getting spicy~ are they, like, twice your age? You are into older people, after all. Oh, and dude or lady? Other, maybe? You are being really cagey.”

“What did I just say?! Also, I'm not into older people. This peep is up to five years my senior, tops.”

“Never had to listen to yourself when going on about Endeavor, have you!? And see? You just admitted the peeper is older!”

“That’s fan rambling, and ever since I had to work with him, I have held my horses in check, hon. As for the other thing? Honestly, I never asked about their birthday or age, but I've been getting older sib vibes. Could be younger or as old as I am, for all I know. But let me fucking continue. SO… we've been getting along okay lately. Way too well, actually, considering the mutually hostile ~strictly professional~ gig we both started out with. Not that we're not assholes to each other still, but we are… like, frenemies.”

“Strangely mysterious person is already starting to sound like you.”

“…”

“Okay, Pot, okay!! Stop looking all disappointed and tell me about Kettle.”

“… Kettle will be a great stand-in name, thanks for the contribution. You are allowed to acknowledge this with a hum.”

“Mhmm.”

“Excellent. Back on topic… as you know, my yesterday… had been a thing.” For the first time that day, the smile disappears entirely.

Rumi hums again with a nod, which doesn't get shot down. From what Hawks was willing to share about family, it had been obvious that he wasn't on particularly good terms with his parents in the first place, but…

“Long story short, yesterday was also internship day, and I was in a pretty bad mood when we met. Tired, anxious, angry, you name it, I had it. Thankfully there's no news coverage, and I didn't want to bring it up, either… but Kettle… knows me well enough to tell when I’m faking it. And how to push my buttons. The prodding got the best of me, eventually; really, this irritating bitch can get under my skin with an efficiency you can only dream of… but anyway, I was so pissed... like, borderline feral, that even they were surprised. Which, in turn, made me feel like a wreck once I realized what I was doing. So they hammered the last nail into the coffin by putting on their calmest, most civil face, -a rarity, really,- to ask the single, logical question in that situation. And I caved. For a dreadful moment I honest to god thought Kettle would make fun of me, you know. What kind of number two hero has their mother stuck in detox every three months…? Fuck, if not for the bar fight, I wouldn't even know she relapsed two whole years ago already! But, uh… they… seemed to understand. We had a therapy session for peasants at my place, then. Kinda like what we have sometimes. And that's when it really got…” Tongue click. “… heavy.”

Rumi’s ears have been attentive and alert, but hearing this makes them part. She takes a second-long break; there's something that usually helps Hawks sleep a little better. And heart-to-hearts tend to push him over the brink, hell, some nights they do this just so he can get some rest. “… You cried.”

With some delay, he nods. “… I did.”

She lets out a tired sigh. “Managed to weird ‘em out, huh.”

“Actually… it ended up being a half drunk weeping contest for the emotionally constipated,” he muses, eyes staring into a scene from the past, located somewhere past the pen in his right hand. “They opened up a little to me, too. Which was new, but… comforting. I learned that while my mother frequents the station, Kettle’s mom has been hospitalized with a severe case of mental breakdown since they were a teen. They miss her… but cannot visit. They fear that showing their scarred face would make her relive the freak show that resulted in her being sent there in the first place.”

“ … Jesus. Both of you sound like the life of the party when running a hashtag-mood.”

The remark brings back the shadow of his happy smile. “I guess so. But, guess what?”

Hers returns as well; they reached the nice part. “What?”

“I ended up leaning onto Kettle… and them onto me. We hugged it out… and stayed like that for like an hour, the sniffling messes we were. And in the morning… I woke up in the arms of someone, warm and safe… sun shining into the room, little bastard relatives chirping outside. I could even smell fresh coffee being made someplace, coming from the open window. And that… that felt divine.”

Rumi takes a delighted sigh. “The life, bitch. That's… the life.”

“Yeah.”

They lie around like that for a few minutes, sprawled on the counter as the noises of the still busy restaurant creep back into their little bubble before it inevitably pops. Hawks breaks the comfortable silence then. “All in all… I admit that you have been right about me all along.”

Her feet bounce an increasingly impatient rhythm against the metal frame as her mood and blood pressure lift back to normal. “Right about what? You are a felon for not supporting pugs, an abomination for even daring to look at pineapple pizza, and an absolute disgrace for turning down ghost peppers! Be more clear, dammit.”

Hawks tosses the long forgotten pen onto the form pile and leans in closer, hiding his mouth with his hands from view. He breathes it in a whisper so low, only people with superhuman hearing or big ole rabbit ears could catch his voice right now. It’s time to make her day, too. “Rumi, I think… I'm hella gay.”

She reflexively does a little hop on the stool as a very high pitched “Holy shit…!” escapes her mouth, turning some heads. Seeing that it's the two of them up to their usual shenanigans, the few people return to their own worries and discussions.

It takes her inhuman effort not to screech like a hare on the spot; punching the air and gasping for it, she calms down eventually. Having found a semblance of self-restraint, she leans back down in, aggressively whispering to him: “First of all, told you so, and more importantly!! Bitch, you're in love, and didn't tell me?!”

As much as Hawks enjoyed watching her outburst, he finds himself sinking behind his arms now. The incessant grin is back in its full glory and is starting to hurt his cheeks, which have turned very pink in color. An unconvincing “nah” is the only thing he can muster.

Rumi breaks into some light-hearted cackling as she moves over, then gently peels Hawks’ defenses off of him to have a closer look. “Bruuuh…! You are in full rose textured shojo manga mode. That's adorable.”

There’s an attempt at rebuilding said defenses. “Shut it, you overgrown furry.”

She’s unperturbed by the lukewarm defensive taunt. “And you kinda smell like smoke from up close, too~ It’s your first love, right? Aaah, baby boy’s growing up, I’m so happy for you…!” With that, Hawks receives a spine shattering hug.

“Rumimyribs,” is all he can squeak before the gesture does more than just some joint popping. He’s had a near-death experience with these ever since the first time she did that, holy shit.

“Hee hee~ I didn’t forget you’ve got bones made of glass, don’t worry.” She pops back down onto her seat while Hawks gets over the scare. “Sooo... when are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“It’s… just a crush, man. He’s… not my boyfriend…” Even thinking about it feels weird… and saying it… really is something else.

She nods. “He doesn’t know it yet! Gotcha.”

Siiigh. “Girl, I can’t just…” STOP, stop… hold the damn phone right there. Ending that sentence would birth more questions to dodge, and he’s not up for brain work at the moment. With a dismissive wave, Hawks restarts the answer. “Anyway, you've seen him already at the very least, so there’s that.” That's all she needs to know- they both know a number of people with fucked-up faces, she won’t admit possibly having missed him, and this… will destroy her.

“… well shit. Now I'll stay up at night wondering who the fuck it might be.”

Bingo. “You’re welcome.”

“Asshole,” she huffs, swatting his hair before settling for a good ruffling. “… say, baby bird.”

“Hm?”

“Want a drink? It's on me. Let's pop one in honor of your heart throb and first crush.”

... uh-oh. “… Rumi.”

“I hope you know this calls for some supreme shit… let me look for a good place nearby, for after this hell is over.”

She's already typing into her phone. Oh no.

“Rumi.” This does not bode well. He has so much shit to do tomorrow. And here’s this pile of junk, most of which he’s yet to have a look at…

“How’s a Zombie sound?”

“RUMI,,,”

#miruko #hawks #bnha miruko #bnha Hawks #dabihawks #even though Dabi's not here #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #Kate writes

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wingroad · 6 years ago

Text

Fic year end review

again, long, boring fic talk.

Chronological breakdown:

January

Priorities 01/14

February

Noticed 02/12

Change of plans 02/13

Culture Difference 02/15

Chocolate Kiss 02/17

Don't tell anyone 02/22

March

Chance meeting 03/01

Your own medicine 03/15

Limitations 03/19

Champions 03/28

April

Nine months and counting 04/05

Status Quo 04/10

Privilege 04/14

A New Beginning 04/17

Interval 04/20

Into the wild 04/22

May

For a pretty girl 05/05

Voyage 05/05

Before your eyes 05/06

Up in the air 05/09

We need to talk about Satsuki 05/19

Waverider 05/21

The difference 05/22

Inspection 05/23

Experiment 05/27

June

Courage test 06/25

July

visit 07/29

August

Dissonance 08/02

the present 08/02

Lost (and (not) found) 04/14

check mate 08/17

The Most Beautiful Man In The World: The cute guy three doors down. 08/19

The Most Beautiful Man In The World: Mixed Signals 08/26

Heavenly 08/26

I got you. 08/31

September

The Most Beautiful Man In The World: The dog incident 09/02

Chores 09/05

The Most Beautiful Man In The World: Reconciliation 09/08

The Most Beautiful Man In The World: tree months later 09/11

October

KINKTOBER:

Chapter 1 10/03

Chapter 2 10/05

Chapter 3 10/07

Special Day 10/11

KINKTOBER CONT:

Chapter 4 10/14

Chapter 5 10/18

Chapter 6 10/21

Chapter 7 10/25

Chapter 8 10/28

Chapter 9 10/29

Chapter 10 10/30

November

Focusing 11/10

Detour 11/27

December

Romance 12/10

Ritual 12/13

Favor 12/13

Exchange 12/13

(I’m counting all three since I finished them still in December and send them out before Christmas)

Frosty bites 12/15

Emotional Support 12/21

Overall Thoughts:

most productive months: May, August, October,

least productive months: January, June, July, November

full fics: 20 (im counting every kinktober fic separately)

drabbles/ficlets: 32

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?

I need to start keeping track of word counts lmao. It feels like I wrote less, because I wrote more in some months and less in others, but I also wrote (and finished!) my first multichaptered fic and did kinktober so I think it’s…a bit more? Dunno.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

So…much…smut *shakes*

As for ships I wrote kagakuro again with a (slightly bigger) dash of aomomo and a sprinkle of kikasa with one mayuaka on top. So the usual.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

From full/longer fics: Beautiful man, definitely, I had so much fun writing it.

From short drabbles: Emotional support I think. It turned EXACTLY how I wanted it, so that’s rare.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

I wrote porn for a whole month, what do you think?

Never mind that it was all tame and vanilla and extremely boring and no one read it XD

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

I wanna do comic scripts this year! I have a bunch of ideas in my notes already. Also two bigger birthday projects which I should start on right now I guess lmao. MORE AOMOMO (multichip fic in the works orz) . Learn kikasa finally gdmnt. A special thingy for a special knb project 😉 I think that’s enough for now lol.

From my past year of writing, what was…

My best story of this year: and once again I have no idea lol.

My most popular story of this year:

Culture differences has the most hits on ao3.

Most Beautiful Man the most kudos and comments and I have 16 subs :O

According to tumblr:

Focusing – 41 notes

The present – 43 notes

Your own medicine – 40 notes

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: dunno but I think I tried hard on kinktober and the response was kinda lukewarm XD Also I really liked that kikasa Christmas drabble but I just posted it recently that’s why the response is delayed.

Most fun story to write: BEAUTIFUL MAN.

Story with the single sexiest moment: I liked writing the sex scenes for this fic and this general premise but it seemed no one even read it xD

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: that one kinktober fic…

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: I don’t think there was one.

Hardest story to write: that one kinktober fic xD but also beautiful man, even tho it was fun. And that aomomo pregnancy fic.

Biggest disappointment: kinktober xD I’m sorry I’m terrible lmao

Biggest surprise: people not seeing the end of beautiful man even tho it was like…the most predictable thing ever lmao.

Most unintentionally telling story: dunno

Highlights + Wrap-up:

Favourite Opening Lines (3):

1. Kagami’s eyes are hurting from how hard he is rolling them.

2. Satsuki woke up to two birds screeching outside the bedroom window.

She groaned and buried her face in the pillow and tried blocking out the obnoxious sound but that didn’t work.

“Shut the damn window.” She mumbled and when she didn’t hear a familiar groan, she finally opened her eyes and raised her head.

3. For what it’s worth, Chihiro thought he did a good job with not freaking out when the huge door of the Akashi mansion opened and a butler assaulted him as soon as he stepped inside.

Favourite Closing Lines (4):

1. “Why are you- Dai-chan?”

“What?” Aomine snapped wetly and sniffed again. Big, fat tears rolled down his face.

Satsuki panicked for a moment, her eyes bulging, because she hadn’t seen Aomine cry like that in years.

Small hands reached out of the bundle in his direction. Aomine looked down and frowned.

“What? Are you making fun of your dad?”

Satsuki couldn’t help it and she burst out laughing.

“Shut up.” Aomine grumbled and Satsuki chuckled.

2. “Okay?” He asked unsurely, not knowing who he wanted to comfort anymore.

Kuroko shifted again but not too far away from Kagami and let him hold him. Or was he the one being held? He didn’t know anymore.

“Okay.” Kuroko’s voice was quiet but it sounded loud in his ear and Kagami shivered again. “But only for a while.”

Kagami nodded against Kuroko neck and heard him hum softly into his hair.

It was a little longer than just a while.

And when they untangled, the movie was long forgotten.

3. She looked at the necklace tucked against Aomine’s cheek which would no doubt produce an imprint of her name on his cheek in the morning.

She touched the chain of her own half and sighed.

Well, this has gotten considerably more complicated now

4. “You have ten more minutes.” He said while pulling gently on a strand of Kise’s silky locks. “And then I’m kicking you awake.”

Kise made a sleepy noise.

Yukio sighed again.

“No, I am not carrying you to bed.”

Kise frowned and Kasamatsu snorted into his cocoa.

“Nice try.”

Favorite 5 Line(s) from Anywhere:

1. But still when Kagami moved forward and slid his hand to Kuroko’s hip he couldn’t help but giggle against his mouth.

Kagami moved away and he looked annoyed.

“Stop. Imagining. It.” He gritted out and Kuroko hiccupped from laughter.

“It’s stronger than me!”

2. “Okay, ladies.” Aomine said and stood up suddenly between them. “You can continue this girl talk after practice, and after I kick your ass again.” He said pointed a finger at Kise.

“Huh? I thought you said you didn’t want to anymore after yesterday, because it was boring.”

“Well, I changed my mind.”

3. “Don’t tell me you made yourself sad while talking about middle school.” He tentatively tried with a joke that would distract him.

Kuroko laughed suddenly, voice a choked a bit and a few fresh tears rolled down his face.

“A little.” He said with a heavy sigh. “It’s been…a very long day.” He said and smiled at Kagami. Taiga thought the smile was supposed to be reassuring, but it looked more forced than anything.

“But it also made me feel really happy.”

4. This was the moment Kuroko chose to put his own hand on Kagami’s face and he realized how warm it was.

“You’re blushing.” Kuroko said and the dimple near his mouth depended.

Kagami wanted to be annoyed, but he wasn’t able to say anything coherent for a moment.

“Go to sleep.” He sighed finally and leaned forward to kiss the top of Kuroko’s head.

Kuroko shifted when he was pulling away and planted a sudden kiss to his mouth, letting Kagami have a full taste of his smile.

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fadedtoblue · 7 years ago

Text

Overall thoughts on Jessica Jones S2

So how about that S2 huh? I finished it Sunday night but found that I really needed to take some time to sit and try to destruct all of the emotions I had over it. A good conversation with a friend the other morning helped me get a better grasp on my feelings regarding this season. Specific thoughts below the cut...

Clearly this season has been a divisive one amongst the fans...mostly that it imploded a lot of things / characters who were well loved and didn’t live up to what it was in S1 -- to a certain extent that might be true. I’ll say that I understood what they were trying to do with this season but I don’t think they were able to bring it altogether with the execution. Nothing wrong with trying to do something different but when the final product doesn’t feel like the best outcome, it’s difficult to not be disappointed. Anyway, I’ll try to break down what I liked and didn’t like.

The good stuff:

Seeing these characters in this world again. Coming off of Defenders, I was most intrigued to see Jess, Trish, and Malcolm and well, if that’s what you’re looking for you get it in SPADES. Everyone plays a crucial part in season 2.

Character driven stories to the max. If you enjoy character driven stories, then you’re in luck, as this is essentially the majority of JJS2. Any of the good stuff that happens is purely on the character level -- whether’s it’s shading in more sides of Jessica’s personality and messy internal conflicts, or showing Trish’s steady and frustrating decline, or introducing new side characters to drive home the crux of each character’s central conflict...this is where the show really made sure to take their time. Everyone has their own moment to drive the narrative forward, though some are able to do it with more purpose than others.

Exploring new relationship dynamics. This will probably also end up being in the bad category lol, but generally speaking, I liked that they tried to show our primary characters in dynamics that felt different from last season. It made me feel like the world had continued moving, and the characters were growing, which was cool. And I realize I may be in the minority but I actually ended up liking Alisa and the surprise twist that she was Jessica’s mom actually worked for me?? I wasn’t sure what they were doing with her, as I found her to be frustratingly one-note when they first introduced her -- like, okay, she’s just going around killing people involved with IGH? What’s the point? But the reveal that she was actually Jessica’s mom made it all click for me. Sure, it still skirted the line a bit between drama and flat out soap opera but I think this was one of my favorite new dynamics. It was a hot mess in a lot of the moments, and it really shouldn’t have been one of the main drivers of conflict in this season, but I’m sympathetic to the messed up mother / daughter connection and seeing Jessica fall apart and not know what the hell to do about this woman.

Malcolm. Special shout out to Malcolm who was truly the MVP of this season. He also goes through his own shit but he is probably the one who manages to come out of it in better shape than he went in. It was sad that the trust was so broken by the end between him, Jess, and Trish, but I think he needed to mature beyond the naive idealist who idolizes Jessica and find his own footing.

The bad stuff:

Too much character focus, not enough of anything else. They threw a LOT our way for all of the characters. Jess dealing with her family’s deaths. Jess dealing with her trauma at IGH. Jess dealing with her relationships with Trish and Malcolm going down the shitter. Jess going apeshit on the competition and going on probation and to anger management. Jess dealing with her mom being alive and being a scary ass murderer. And oh wait, Jess also randomly kills a guard and has a dissociative episode where she imagines Kilgrave around every corner. And this is just Jess! It’s incredible that for all of the things I listed, which I think worked in that they contributed to Jessica’s gradual breakdown over the season, it really felt as if we were treading water most of the time narratively. Because every time something bad happened, or she made a bad decision, or whatever...nothing happened. Nothing got really resolved or truly broken until the end of the season. And the thing is, I 100% track with why Jessica keeps flip flopping around. I absolutely see that she’s barely hanging on and she literally can’t deal with it all and especially WHY she can’t deal with it. But it could have been more to the point and still driven us to larger, more important story details. This feeling of nothing happening also applied to Trish, who had a story line I appreciated on paper -- showing just how hard a person can spiral downward, especially someone who used to be an addict and now isn’t just dealing with street drugs, but ridiculous power-inducing shit -- but my god, this woman has this awful fall off the wagon, pretty much blows up her life, career, relationships, also nearly dies in her quest to gain powers from the mad doctor, but still manages to bounce back enough to snipe Alisa with a handgun from 50 feet and deal with zero consequences. I’m not going to list out every storyline for every character, but while these character building moments work to a point, the lack of balance and payoff make for difficult TV watching. Also Jeri’s storyline started out intriguing when there was still a connection to IGH but once that went out the window, it just felt like it should have been on another show altogether.

Too many plot contrivances. This was a point of conversation I had with my friend and like, nothing wrong with plot contrivances to create moments for our characters to DO something but I think a better written show could have created these moments more naturally. And maybe the problem was that some of these moments felt contrived because things were getting dragged out and it was hard to ignore the moments when they happened.

Bad overall plotting of the storylines. So the weird thing is that I pretty much got why everything happened the way it did. But literally every storyline could have been condensed by 2-3 episodes. It was as if this stubborn dedicated to driving the story purely by character also meant to the writers that they needed to slowly draw out each detail and reveal. No, not really. With each delaying tactic that kept us from getting to the next point in the story, it killed any momentum that was starting to build up. I have no expectations that JJ should be an action driven show, but if you’re going to go full tilt into the psychological slow burn, there has to be a balance somewhere. If it’s not going to be some overarching villain, then it should be a better mystery. You know?

Lack of payoff with IGH. Listen, I don’t know what’s up with TPTB and if there’s something preventing these creative teams from writing compelling shadow organizations or whatever, but we’re 0/2 now and that’s so majorly disappointing. To find out that IGH was ultimately just one somewhat well-intentioned dude who got a little carried away with human experimentation...really?! That was something that majorly deflated my sails as it could have been exactly the kind of grounded connective thread that could’ve being pulled across all four shows. This is where the separate but connected universe really bites these shows in the ass because obviously, they all exist in the same time and place and share characters but because they also need to stand as individual shows and be able to pursue their own creative agenda, the choices made by one show inevitably affect the others show that could’ve used IGH.

Random stuff:

As much as Tennant’s Kilgrave (and his crazy good screen presence) was missed, I think it was ultimately the right choice to keep him limited to an episode. My husband was griping about how they could have integrated Kilgrave’s over the shoulder taunting throughout the whole season instead of saving it for the end, but I disagreed. The way they set up his reappearance made a lot of narrative sense to me -- that her accidentally killing the guard, on top of the incredible stress she’s under to take care of everyone’s shit, is what makes her temporarily dissociate and conjure up this vision of Kilgrave. The shtick would have gotten old quickly if he’d be present the whole season, and it would have severely undercut her progress from last season, at least the aspect where she was able to face her abuser and take back her life. I guess you could have done some version of PTSD and that’s why he’s in her head, but I think it would have been a distraction.

Trish is an interesting pickle for me. I am not that emotionally invested in her as a character so for me, the shift in direction doesn’t devastate me as much as it seems to have done for a lot of people I know. And honestly, I think the point of her storyline was to make her this awful and unlikeable. There was already a kernel of the competition and jealousy that existed in her relationship with Jess, but her idealism and compassion for her sister usually won out. And I think it’s also worth noting that she was already pushing Jessica’s boundaries way too hard, even before she falls off the wagon, but obviously falling back into drugs exacerbated a lot of the things that were already lurking under the surface. Also, I don’t think I was even bothered by the fact she’s the one who killed Jessica’s mom, but as I briefly alluded to earlier, it really bugs me that she didn’t reap the full consequences of her season long arc, especially since she still gets to become Hellcat at the end. That being said, karma has a way of coming back and biting you in the ass. If Jeri had to reap the karma of her craptastic behavior of S1 this season, then I fully expect Trish to face it in S3. Ideally we’ll see her attempt to be the hero she’s always wanted to be and crash and burn in spectacular fashion. There’s a reason why our heroes are the heroes and while I don’t think it means Trish will never get to be a hero, being a hero for the wrong reasons doesn’t make you a hero. And this is a tough lesson that I really want to see Trish learn.

Alright, I think I covered most of it. Apologies for any errors, I try to edit my word vomit but I’ll usually miss something :p. And if you want to chat / vent about particulars, I’m all for it! Hit up my asks or send me a message!!

#jessica jones #trish walker #marvel's jessica jones #jj s2 #meta #my thoughts #p talks about stuff #jj spoilers #jessica jones spoilers

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celestescamander · 4 years ago

Text

Of Breakfast and Bridesmaids

Celeste Scamander Wedding Week - Day 2

Wedding Week: Day Two

Celeste groaned rolling over burying her head into the pillow, the ringing noise, “Make it stop,” she slurred cuddling into the pillow, a content sigh escaping her lips, so warm. She felt the throughs of sleep pulling her back into her slumber, she was safe in her apartment in NYC which was surprisingly quiet, no early morning honking of the horns, strange, there was no Alexis crying either, stranger, Her brows furrowed, maybe she should get up and check. Trying to sit up Celeste fell back against the bed, ‘Go back to sleep,” a deep voice told her, she smiled the voice sound surprisingly like Caleb, she really was gone for him, imagining his voice telling her to sleep. She hummed maybe dream Caleb was onto something.

She didn’t know how long had passed since dream Caleb had told her to go back to sleep but as the sleep slowly decided to recede. She was put off by the peace, there was no off the busy hustle and bustle of New York, in fact, she could hear the birds chirping. She sat up suddenly rubbing at her eyes as she opened them frantically taking in what was definitely not her room. Reality set in as she remembered she was in Portugal. With a yawn, she threw her legs over the side of the bed taking in the stunning view of the valley that surrounded them.

“Oh you are awake,” she turned to see Caleb standing there in nothing but a towel that hung around her hips. “Did i wake you?” he asked with a frown. Celeste opened her mouth but quickly shut it, there were no words coming out of her mouth just like there were no thoughts going through her head. He had thrown her with his near-naked appearance. “Was it the phone or my singing?” he continued on as if Celeste wasn’t having a breakdown.

“Your singing?” she asked choosing to focus on what she could remember. “What?”

“In the shower?” Caleb offered before frowning. “Celeste are you feeling okay?” he asked. “You are a bit red,” he said concern clear in his voice. He leaned down placing a hand on her forehead. “You are a little warm,” he frowned. “You go back to bed, I’ll call Fiona and tell her you can’t make it,” he said.

“No,” Celeste said quickly, “You don’t need to do that, I am fine really,” she said looking anywhere but at him which was proving to extremely difficult. “I uh just - you are only in a towel,” she said muttered, her face flushing as she peaked a look up at him. Caleb took a step backwards-looking down at his body before muttering an oh.

“I am sorry, i was just surprised,” Celeste muttered feeling like a complete idiot. Damn hormones.

“Right i just -” he said. “Give me a minute,” he said walking back into the direction of the ensuite. Celeste groaned falling back on the bed with a thud grabbing a nearby and smothering herself with it. So much for not making this awkward, she couldn’t even make a day without ruining things.

“You know normally when women see me half naked they don’t try and smother themselves to death,” she heard Caleb say. She moved the pillow slightly looking up to see Caleb, now at least wearing a robe, looking at her with an amused smile on his face. Celeste’s eyes narrowed, glad someone was enjoying her embarrassment. “Do i look that bad?”

“Yes, you’ve blinded me,” Celeste scowled tossing the pillow at him. Of course he caught it before it could do any damage. Stupid attractive people with good reflexes. “Could you not let me wallow in my sorrows in peace?” she pouted as he came to sit on the bed.

“My ego is really taking a hit here,” Caleb laughed laying back on the bed.

“Please your ego probably grew another head,” she huffed. “Can we just pretend i didn’t just act like an idiot because you weren’t wearing a shirt,” she said looking at Caleb had a smirk on his face clearly pleased with himself.

“Not wearing a shirt or anything else,” he added.

“Thanks for that information,” Celeste said nose scrunching up. “Anyway away from your forgetting there was someone else in the room - “

“Are you hungry?” He asked, it wasn’t the smoothest segway but Celeste appreciated it now the less, “Let’s order breakfast,” he continued reaching over to the tablet the hotel had given them. “Hmm what would you like? A big breakfast? A fruit platter? Cereal? Toast?” he offered as he scrolled down.

“No big breakfast,” Celeste said shaking her head. “I am going to be trying on my bridesmaid dress,” she said. If the rest of Fiona’s bridesmaid were as pretty as she was she didn’t need a food baby in her stomach. Caleb snorted, shaking his head. “Do you want anything to drink, you seemed a little thirsty earlier,” he said, a sly grin on his face.

“Stop!” Celeste whined flopping back on the bed. “I come here and do you a massive favour and you are been mean and teasing me,” she huffed poking his side. “You owe me, Caleb Park, don’t forget it,” she said seriously.

“Oh i won’t,” Caleb nodded. “And i am not teasing you, if i was i would point out how adorable you were cuddling into me,” he grinned. “I even took a photo because it was soooo cute,” he cooed. Celeste turned to face him, eyes narrowed, he grinned at her cocking an eyebrow up at her. Her eyes moved from to the bedside table without hesitation she lunged for it as did Caleb who got it before she had a chance.

“Did you really take a photo of me?” Celeste asked. Caleb didn’t answer her verbally instead held his phone up showing her his wallpaper which was indeed a picture of a sleeping Celeste. He even dared to smirk at her placing his hands behind his head as he layed back on the bed.

“Delete it,” Celeste growled.

“Nope,” Caleb said popping the P. ‘My girlfriend is so cute,” he grinned.

“You have 3 seconds to give me the phone,” Celeste said sucking in a breath as she tried to keep calm.

“Anyway, so Coffee? Juice? Water?” Caleb asked ignoring Celeste’s threat. “Got make sure you are hy-ooph,” he started before Celeste climbed on him trying to grab the phone. Caleb whistled moving the phone to his other hand in time, his long arms coming in handy once again.

“A delayed response at seeing my freshly showered huh? “ Caleb laughed. “Couldn’t help yourself, i get it,” he teased making sure the phone was out of her reach.

“Give me the phone Park,” Celeste said through gritted teeth.

“Make me Scamander,” he said in a sing-song voice.

“Are you awake? I tried calling - oh,”

Celeste and Caleb quickly pulled apart, Celeste jumping off the bed turning to say Fiona covering her mouth trying to stop herself from laughing.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Celeste said quickly.

“Celeste we are all adults here,” Fiona laughed. “I question your taste in men constantly but I am not judging you for wanting to have a good morning,” she smirked. “But if you could make it quick that would be great, we are meant to be having brunch with the girls in half an hour,” she said. “I did try calling him,” she nodded towards Caleb who was glaring at his sister.

“Uh right sorry, I’ll be down soon” she muttered her face flushing as Fiona giggled.

“Have fun,” she said with a wink before turning back around and exiting.

“That was awkward,” Celeste said.

“She has a keycard to our room that little -” Caleb said ignoring her. “Just because it’s her wedding week doesn’t mean she can just storm into our room,” he huffed.

“Right,” Celeste said shaking her head. “While you fume, i am going to get ready. That photo better be deleted by the time i am done,” she huffed.

“Never gonna happen Scamander.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I thought it was a dress fitting,” Caleb said raising an eyebrow as he spotted Celeste, they had agreed to meet up after the dress fitting for brunch, even though it was late into the afternoon now. “Why do you look like you’ve been playing quidditch for hours?” he laughed as Celeste fell into the chair across from him. Celeste looked at him eyes narrowing as he let out a laugh. “How about we order first, maybe some food will help,” he suggested.

“No more food,” Celeste whined. ‘Your mother apparently takes breakfast very seriously,” she said. “Also apparently i can call her Jia now,” she said. “So i guess that’s a win,” she said grabbing the jug of ice water and pouring herself a glass.

“Really Jia? Not mum?” he asked raising an eyebrow. “Maybe she doesn’t approve of you after all,” he said stroking his chin as he thought about it. Celeste’s eyes bulged as she put down her glass thankful she didn’t get the chance to drink from it otherwise Caleb would be covered in water.

“What?” Celeste said with a frown. “Why? Wait are you joking?” she asked more hopeful than a fake girlfriend should be.

“No,” He said seriously. “Did you do something wrong?” he asked as he picked up the menu, eyes flickering down to it. Celeste stared at him incredulously her frustration with the entire Park family simmering up to the surface. Caleb yelped, “Did you just kick me?” he asked rubbing at his leg. Celeste smiled sweetly at him as he shook his head, a soft smile on his face. “Okay, okay i get it you didn’t do anything wrong, can you think of anything that happened at the dress fitting because last time i saw her she had our entire lives planned out together,” he said.

“Well -” She started eyes narrowing at him. Stopping when a waitress came over to take their order. Caleb of course ordered in perfect Portuguese.

“I got you a coffee and a piece of their cake of the day,” He said. “Before you say anything if you don’t eat it i will,” he said quickly. “Now let’s get back to why you were glaring at me,” he said looking far more amused than he should be.

“Well it all starts with you not deleting the photo when asked,” Celeste said shaking her head.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★’

Celeste prayed that she wouldn’t be the last person to arrive at the conference room. She hated been the centre of attention, in fact, she preferred to stand to the side and watch the centre of attention make a fool of themselves. The second she stepped into the conference room, she was shocked to see just how much it had been transformed. It had basically been turned into a wedding boutique, several racks of clothing, from the brand names she saw on the bag, it was all designer, plush lounge chairs were strategically placed around large glass mirrors, to one side stood several change rooms.

“Miss,” A waiter offered her a flute of champagne. Celeste shook her head muttering a no thank you as in almost an instant 7 pairs of eyes were on her.

“Celeste honey,” Caleb’s mother jumped up to greet and pulling her into a hug. “Did you sleep okay? I was so worried about you and Cal having jet lag,” she said shaking her head.

“Well according to Fi they had a great night sleep, infact apparently that is the reason Celeste is a little late, so I am sure Celeste is very rested mother,” Rose laughed winking at Celeste as she sat down on one of the lounge chairs.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

“Oh my god is that why your mum doesn’t like me now? “ Celeste eyes widening as she took a sip from her coffee. “She thinks i am sort of nympho who is taking advantage of her son,’ she whined. “See if you just deleted the picture like i asked this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Well, i mean can they blame you?” Caleb grinned at her. “And i am not deleting it, it’s a cute picture, look so cute,” he said holding his phone up and pointing to the lock screen. “Couples have each other as their lock screens so don’t worry,” he said happily.

“Do they though?” Celeste said raising an eyebrow. “Who even cares about lock screens anyway?” she asked.

“Please tell me you don’t have the factory wallpaper,” He asked, Celeste, looked down sheepishly. “Seriously,” he laughed. “Well you need to change it,” Caleb pointed out. “Personally i think it should be to a photo of me, you know since i am so handsome you can’t control yourself,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. “Ow did you kick me again?” he asked.

“I’ve been teased enough today thank you very much,” Celeste growled. “I should send you back home away from New York like your mum wants,” she said.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

Celeste smiled weakly her face heating up as she wondered which Park sibling was number one on her hitlist. Caleb was still the top but Rosalind and Fiona were neck and neck. “Ah i slept well Mrs Park,” Celeste said. “And I’ve lived in New York for the last 6 years sleep is not a necessity,” she added with a laugh.

“Mrs Park? Oh sweetie you can call Jia,” she said with a smile. “And yes New York is certainly something,” she continued, her nose scrunching up. “Are you and Caleb planning on staying in New York after you get married?” she asked.

“Aunty, they need to be engaged to even think about changing their entire lives,” Celeste was saved by answering when Spencer walked into the room instantly coming over to Celeste and pulling her into a hug. “Plus New York is really not that bad,” she said.

“And we should be focusing on the child that is actually getting married Ma,” Fiona teased. “Who needs to introduce you,” she said pointing to Celeste. “To the other bridesmaids,” she said pushing her towards the other women.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

”Oh so what did you think of Fiona’s bridesmaids?” Caleb asked. “They weren’t rude to you were they?” Caleb asked concern etched on his face.

“They seemed nice, all very pretty, I think i am bringing down the visual aver - did you just throw a pack of salt at me?” Celeste laughed picking up the offending packet of salt, looking at curiously as Caleb nodded proudly.

“If you keep talking that nonsense the whole condiment tray is coming your way,” he warned.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

“Ladies i would like you to meet our fifth and final bridesmaid Celeste, Celeste this is my childhood friend Hyeji,” she said pointing to a beautiful girl with long dark hair, wide eyes and a pretty smile, Hyeji to her.

“My close friend and business partner Nina,” she said pointing to another beautiful girl who was currently chatting Evelyn’s ear off. She was slightly curvier than the others but once again extremely pretty. Celeste’s nose scrunched her nose up so everyone in the Park sibling’s friendship had to be pretty.

“And my future sister in law Calliope,” she said gesturing to the last woman well girl, who was sitting next to Rose on a lounge chair, she was younger than the rest, pretty of course, but her eyes were focused on her phone, barely glancing up to look at Celeste.

“And you already know Rosie Posie,” she said tilting her head over to her sister who looked less than impressed with that nickname in fact the glare she was sending Fiona was downright deadly. “Ah i am so excited to show you your bridesmaid dress,” she grinned.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

"Rosie Posie?” Caleb repeated. “I gotta use that myself one day,” he grinned.

“I thought you were a bad older brother but i get the feeling you are an even worse younger brother,” Celeste said with a laugh. “Bet you annoyed Rose so much,” she said as Caleb grinned.

“You should ask about her first boyfriend,” Caleb said. “Fun times,” he chuckled. “Anyway away from you judging me for being an amazing brother, what was the dress like? Was it ugly? I mean Fiona picked it so of course, it is,” he hummed. “But i am sure you made it look pretty,” he said sweetly.

“It was nice, she has good taste,” Celeste said. “I am just glad it fit,” she laughed. “Made all the teasing worth it,” she said shaking her head. “Also has your mum always taken breakfast so seriously?”

“I told you to have breakfast before, it’s the most important meal of the day,” Caleb said nodding.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

“I am excited to see it,” Celeste smiled, she was interested to see what Fiona had picked out. “But all these racks can’t be the bridesmaid dresses right?”

Fiona giggled, shaking her head. “Nope, most of those racks are my gifts for you girls, well minus Spencer she is only here because she insists that she is your favourite Park and i want her to watch as i replace her as number one,” Fiona grinned.

“Shouldn’t Caleb be my number one?” Celeste laughed.

“Ew no just because you are fuc- “ Fiona started to speak before her mother’s hand covered her mouth.

“Fiona why don’t you go get the dresses ready,” The mother ordered, Celeste looked down wincing that was a mum tone if she ever heard one. Fiona rolled her eyes but nodded telling Celeste to be prepared as she walked over to the racks. “I am sorry about that,” Caleb’s mother Jia sighed. “I swear she isn’t usually this invested in other peoples -” she trailed off coughing awkwardly. “Anyway come sit, have you had any breakfast?” she said as she ushered Celeste over to a lounge chair.

“Ah not really,” she said scratching the back of her head. “I figured since I was trying on the bridesmaid dress,” she said sheepishly as Jia let out a strangled noise. Celeste’s eyes widened wondering if she said something wrong. “Sorry?”

“Celeste,” Jia said rubbing between her eyes, “I will say this as kind as I can, please stop talking such nonsense,” she said shaking her head. “Look at you, already on the thinner side and worrying about eating,” she said shaking her head. “Is that what being surrounded by all those celebrities does to you?” she huffed. “No no this won’t do,” she said standing up and heading over to the spread of food.

“I-“ Celeste tried to get up but was stopped by Rosalind who just shook her head.

“Celeste just let her, it’s not like you can stop her but it’s better you don’t try to,” Rose said with a laugh.

“Plus she is right,” One of Fiona’s friends spoke, Nina, said. “You don’t need to be skipping breakfast,” she said. Celeste smiled weakly sure that was meant to be a supportive comment but really it just made her feel uncomfortable.

“Ah that isn’t it Nina,” Rosalind said bringing her flute of champagne to her lips. “Did Fiona not tell you? Celeste was a little busy this morning,” she said giggling. Nina raised an eyebrow looking over at Celeste a sly smile making its way onto her face.

“Oh I see,” she laughed.

“Yeah, Celeste had her fill off sausage this morning” Spencer commented coming over with a plate of food as Celeste wished the couch would swallow her whole, what was with this family and sharing details of her non-existent sex life. Did they think Caleb was a virgin or something? Surely not.

“Can’t blame her,” Nina commented nodding. “If I had a hot boyfriend with me I’d rather be staying in bed all day as well,” she said with a grin.

“Yeah I get it as well but Celeste has Caleb,” Rosalind laughed.

“Who is a very attractive man,” Nina pointed out.

“You only say that because you didn’t see him when he was a kid,” Hyeji commented with a giggle. “His ears were huge back then.”

“I wonder what else is huge,” Nina winked at Celeste.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

“Nina is now my favourite friend of Fiona’s” Caleb smirked. “And that little turncoat Hyeji, my ears have always been normal-sized,” he huffed. Celeste giggled shaking her head. “That is all you took from that?”

“No, my mum is right you shouldn't be talking such nonsense and I am your favourite Park,” he grinned fluttering his eyelashes at her. “I am flattered,” he chuckled.

“Right now your father is my favourite Park,” Celeste huffed in annoyance. “Maybe you should delete the photo and you can become my favourite Park again,” she said with a shrug as a Pepper pack hit her nose. “Seriously,” she laughed. “Fine i suppose you can be my favourite again,” she laughed. “But i have competition now, Miss Calliope is quite a fan,” she laughed.

“Is she?” Caleb asked surprised.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

“He is okay,” Calliope said causing all of their heads to turn to her. Celeste bristled she wasn’t going to let Caleb get ragged on by a teenager who probably thought peak attractiveness was some tiktoker with greasy hair. “Attractive enough,” she shrugged. “Well his characters are at least but can we stop talking about old people banging and focus on what is important here,’ she snapped. “Your last name is Scamander right?” she asked.

Celeste nodded preparing herself for all the questions that would come next. “So you went to Hogwarts right?” s,he asked, Celeste’s brows furrowed together as she nodded unsure where this was going. “So you read Gossip Witch right? Do you think Minah is making a mistake by taking Sungjae back?’ she asked.

“I uhm,” Celeste laughed awkwardly. “I am a little old for Gossip Witch you know,”

“What? So you didn’t get that latest post about Daniel?’ she asked innocently. “I was going to ask if you saw him in New York,’ she pouted. “He is so hot, did you watch his latest show, I totally shipped him with –“ she started.

“What did he do?” Celeste interrupted. “He told me he was taking a month off for personal reasons,” she said, huffing annoyance. Stupid Daniel.

“Wait why would he tell you that?’ Calliope asked, raising an eyebrow curiously. “Are you friends?” she asked clapping in excitement. “Merlin, my friends would totally lose it if I told them I knew Daniel Choi’s friend, like Avery says her dad works in the ministry with Emily Choi but like that is just his cousin,” she said rolling her eyes. “Practically a nobody,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Celeste raised an eyebrow if Daniel heard that he would be going off about how Emily Choi is the most important precious person in the world.

“Right you tell me what he has supposedly done and I’ll tell you how I know him,” Celeste offered.

“What is even happening?” Spencer laughed looking between Calliope and Celeste..

“Is he really rehabbing in London?” Calliope asked tilting her head to the side. “I know the break up was tough on him,” she said looking devastated, Celeste snorted at the thought apparently this person was more upset about Daniel's breakup than Daniel was.. “Can you let him know that everyone is on his side?”

“What no? Daniel isn’t in rehab,’ Celeste snapped. “He is just going to London because he wants to,” Celeste said. ‘And trust me he is fine.”

“And why should I trust that?”

“Because Celeste is –“

“Dating one of his oldest friends,” Celeste cut in. She didn’t need this girl knowing that Celeste worked with Daniel. “Caleb and Daniel have known each other for years,” she said. “Here look,” she said, going through her phone finding a picture Daniel had sent her saying Caleb was his friend first.

“Wait seriously?” the girl said, grabbing her phone. “You have Daniel’s number,” she said in awe. “And if Caleb is best friends with him that means Fiona knows him which means I am going to be indirectly related to Daniel Choi,” she squealed, tossing Celeste’s phone back at her.

“Hey if you are all ready to –“ Fiona said coming over with four garment bags.

“Oh Fifi, you shouldn’t be holding all those bags,” Calliope said leaping up to help Fiona who was mouthing the words Fifi her face getting more disgusted at each syllable. “Hey you two help my sister out,” she said to Nina and Hyeji who were too stunned to even respond. “Rosalind, Unnie,” Calliope said, for some reason that didn’t sound very respectful, “Could you please get Fiona another glass of champagne,” she said.

“What? Why?”

“Because her glass is empty duh,” Calliope said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And obviously I can’t go get it I am 16 and Celeste must be exhausted,” she pointed out.

“Oh I can go get it, I am pretty sure if you just wave them –“ Celeste said standing up.

“No no,” Calliope said with a roll of her eyes. “You rest, I am sure Caleb wore you out, such a youthful man that one is,’ she said at the moment Celeste figured that life really was a simulation, there was no way a 16-year-old was saying this. “Very handsome as well, but I am not interested,” she said quickly, “I am just saying he is handsome and not old at all,” she said quickly.

“Calliope, are you being rude to Fiona again?” Evelyn came over looking at her daughter curiously. “We’ve talked about this before,” she said.

“What are you talking about mother,” Calliope said with a bout of fake laughter. “I’ve never been rude to Fiona,” she said. “Infact, I think you haven’t accepted her enough which is why we should have a family dinner tonight,” she said. “Just our family and The Parks,’ she said nodding.

“What a wonderful idea,” Jia said, making her return, a plate full of food in tow. “Ah Calliope you are such a lovely young woman,” she said to the girl who just beamed up at her.

“Oh my god,” Fiona said under her breath. “Can they just please try on their dresses, I need to know if the dressmakers need to make any changes, especially on Celeste’s dress because she hasn’t actually tried it on,” she said with a sigh.

“I’ll go try it on now,” Celeste said, getting up noticing the look Jia was sending her. “And then I will eat,” she said racing forward and taking the bag off Fiona. Happy to get out of there.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━★

“You sicked Calliope on me?” Caleb asked, mortified by the idea. “How could you be so cruel to me?”

“I got you a new fan, you should be thankful, you left spellbound and i am still helping you,” Celeste said with a smirk. “You’re welcome Cal,” she said with a grin.

“How kind of you,” he said sarcastically. “Now i am never deleting that picture,” he said eyes narrowing. “Infact i think i should post it on my instagram so my new fans can see how pretty my girlfriend is,” he grinned. Celeste winced reaching down to rub her foot. “Missed me,” he grinned.

#story

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