#hi hello i'm back from being dead for nearly two weeks

[wilting-fl0wer]

Sol, our beloved time god

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 3

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

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Chapter 3: Movie Premieres, SNL and Quarrels

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Otherwise known as the One in New York. What do you guys think about R and Jenna's dynamic so far? 👀 (taking a break for a few days/maybe a week after I post this, I think I've kept you all fed for a bit while I'm gone lol, in the meantime, send asks I'll try to answer all of them!😋)

Word Count: 6.4k+

“You get on that plane and I’ll drop you as a client.” Jake’s voice rings out from your work phone. 

“What the fuck, Jake, are you serious?!” You seethe, practically red in the face. 

You have been on the phone with Jake for the last hour – Liv refuses to pick up your calls after you blew up the group chat, rehashing your argument with Jenna. Desperately pleading to fly back home because you couldn’t stand being in the same city as the actress, at the moment. 

You couldn't even think about her words without it making your blood boil.

“Fuck yeah, I’m serious. Do you know what time it is here?”

Glancing at the clock it read 3:46 A.M. EST, you roll your eyes. “It’s just past midnight in L.A. You won’t die if you don’t get eight hours of sleep.”

“Be quiet. I don’t wanna hear another word from you.” He nearly shouts and you imagine that one vein popping through his forehead. You liked to stare at it when Jake goes off on his shouting tangents at you. 

He never notices that you're not paying attention.

“Maybe we should get Liv on the phone or maybe Sarah?” Link glances at you worriedly.

He hates seeing you so riled up, so he often played the middle-man with your quarrels against Jake and Liv.

“Liv says she doesn’t wanna hear it. Sarah says forget it and I’m saying, I’m not fucking around this time Y/N, this is your last chance. I’m over your shit.” He hangs up the phone, leaving the line dead.

You jump face-first into the stiff bed, groaning loudly.

“Looks like you’re outta luck.” He pats you back, leaving you to sulk alone as he shuts the door. “Try to get some sleep.”

There was no way you ended up in this situation. 

You guess, it was fair to acknowledge your recent streak of bad behaviour. First, it was tame — ignoring your phone, running away to party, getting mixed in the wrong crowds – eventually, Link had to start dragging you out of bed by the legs (sometimes kicking and screaming) just to make it in time for a gig.

You’re not sure when all of this started. All you knew is that you were so tired. You just wanted one second to breathe; to feel like that young child again, with hopes and dreams. But no, someone was always hovering over your shoulder ready to drag you away to another event you could care less about. 

You close your eyes, allowing the jetlag and exhaustion to set in as your body moulds into the mattress.

– 

The next day, you find yourself standing in front of Jenna’s hotel room. The large double door looks menacing and faintly, you can already hear a bustle on the other side. You really didn’t want to knock but you know what was on the line so you swallow your pride and raise a fist to knock. 

But before you can knock, the door is opening revealing a girl, with dirty blonde hair bearing a semblance to a certain actress. “Oh, hi!”

“Hello.” You greet warmly.

“I’m Aliyah. Jenna’s younger sister.” She holds her free hand out.

You shake her hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m–”

“I know who you are.” She smiled then laughed, “Everyone knows who you are.”

You chuckled, shyly nodding. “I guess.”

“Are you two done?” Jenna suddenly appears, yanking the door wider so you can see her. Her makeup complements her well; the green bustier two-piece looked expertly crafted just for her; and the way her hair fell in soft waves framed her face nicely. 

“Hi…” You say a little vacant-sounding.

You don’t say anything else.

From the corner of your eye, you see her sister’s raised brow but you think you’re imagining it because you can’t keep your gaze off of Jenna. The actress raises her brow at you, impatient.

“What did you need?” She asks.

“Uh—I wanted to talk, about last night."

Jenna watches you momentarily before rolling her eyes; pulling you inside with a rough yank. “Get inside before someone sees you — Aliyah close the door.”

You stumble, still a little dazed but the smaller girl’s nails are gripping your arm painfully making you snap out of it.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You whisper, not inattentive to the multiple people scattered around the large room.

“Guys, this is Y/N.” She ignored your complaints and pulled you past the foyer into the living room – her entire team had taken refuge in the room to get the star ready for a day of press interviews.

Various echoes of your name and greetings are sent back to you but you certainly don’t miss the awkward tension in the room started by your sudden presence. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I can just go.” You point behind you.

“Nonsense.” An older woman that looked kinda like the actress waves off. “It’s great to have you here, Miss L/N. Jenna was just talking about you.”

“Oh please, just Y/N is fine.” Shaking your head bashfully, briefly wondering what she could be telling her family and team about what kind of person you are.

“I’m Jenna’s mom. That’s her dad, her other sister Mia, and her brother Markus.” She points and you try to keep up with the names of the people she’s throwing at you; Jenna’s family and team included.

“It’s so great to meet you all. It’s not hard to see that Jenna is so loved.” You say sincerely.

“We try our best.” Her dad says looking appreciative of your words. You smile at everyone and it seems to ease a bit of the tension in the room.

You didn’t see Jenna rolling her eyes again (her favourite to do around you) disregarding the encounter; she hides the surprise she feels from your genuine compliment.

Last night's argument with you, still burning in her brain.

“What did you want to say?" She says a little bluntly.

Watching as everyone turns to go back to what they were doing, you look down at Jenna. “Um… I wanted to apologize for last night. And call a truce, maybe over dinner?

She looks surprised not expecting you to be the first one to give in. “Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“I appreciate it.” Jenna cuts in, “I’m sorry too… a truce sounds good. Sarah got mad at me too, for what it's worth. She even said I was whining.”

Jenna jokes, dropping her walls a bit.

You rub a hand on the back of your neck, chuckling, “Good to know.”

“I can’t do dinner though.” She shuts her eyes as if remembering something. 

“Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time.”

“Or maybe… you can be my date to the Scream cast dinner?” She offers, looking a little hopeful.

“Are you sure?” You chew your lip. Ignoring the word date.

“Yeah! Totally, you can meet everyone, it’ll be great. Not to throw anyone under the bus but they’ve been trying to meet you.” She says sheepishly.

You laugh, dropping your walls just a tad. “Sure I’ll be there.”

She smiles warmly, satisfied with your answer. “Yeah, it’ll be great. I guarantee there’ll be paparazzi, so it’ll be good for publicity. They’ve been hounding me since I landed, my dad nearly pushed a guy in the airport. I couldn’t even walk to the door by myself at the SNL dinner cast party.”

You lose a bit of the smile but Jenna doesn’t see, laughing at her memory of the paparazzi. You blink around, making sure no one saw you, it might give them the wrong idea. “Uh, yeah sure. I’m good with whatever.”

“Okay, cool.” She shoots a thumb up, walking away from you. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Mhmm.” You smile, waving goodbye to everyone and booting it out the door. 

Unsure where the tension in your chest is coming from you swiftly walk to the elevator; aggressively tapping the button as if the elevator would come faster that way. And practically throwing yourself in the metal box as soon as it opens.

You miss the entire pandemonium that implodes in the room when you leave.

“Holy shit?” Mia exclaims.

“Language.” Her mom chastises. 

“No, holy shit, indeed. Jenna oh my god what did you do to that poor girl?” Aliyah walks past Jenna to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“What are you talking about?” She looks at her sisters confused.

Mia’s rolling her eyes, standing up from the couch. “Did you not see the way she was looking at you?”

“No? How was she looking at me?” She turns to her mom who had a hint of a smile on her lips as if she knew something. Jenna was starting to feel left out. 

“She likes you, Jen.” Her brother speaks up, not even bothering to look up from his phone. 

“What? You guys are crazy. We barely know each other.” Jenna starts shaking her head furiously, turning to Enrique, her stylist and close friend. “Enrique, tell them they’re being crazy.”

But he shrugs, sharing that same Cheshire grin her mom had. “God, not you too.” She clamps her eyes shut with her hands.

“Hey! Watch the eyes!” Her makeup artist warns. 

“Dad?” She drops her hands, pleading at the silent man, who, she knows is listening. Why do Dads do that thing where they let everyone argue, only stepping in when the Mom asks for backup. 

He remains in character – staying silent.

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. She was literally here for five seconds. How could you possibly think she likes me from that.” Jenna turns to everyone else.

“I don’t know, Jen. The eyes never lie.” Mia says, privy to the way your smile fell when Jenna mentioned being spotted for publicity tonight. 

“I’m– I’m late for interviews, I need to go,” Jenna mutters, grabbing her purse and walking to the door. 

–

“This is gonna blow up.” Your producer says from beside you. 

“I don’t know. I still think it’s missing something.” You sigh, sliding the headphones off as you slump onto the plush leather seats. 

You sneaked off to the studio not too far from the hotel in lower Manhattan. See you would have told Link or anyone really, but you were trying to be discreet. And Link is one ‘ol snitch and the personal fun police. 

It seems after your fight with Jenna, Jake and Liv put you under strict instructions not to leave the hotel unless accompanied by someone from your team. 

You’re not a fucking child. You don’t need a babysitter. So here you are, with your producer in the studio trying to record this damn song you’ve been stuck on for three months.

“Maybe it’s time to scrap the song then.” He offers. “It’s never gonna be done before Coachella.”

Immediately you are shaking your head. No, this song is special, you can feel it. If only you can get your head out of your own ass long enough to find the damn words. 

“No, just– just put it on hold. Let’s work on something else.”

He sighs, clicking the screen to pull up another file. “Your call.”

The buzzing of your phone against the wooden table echoes into the silence that grew as you waited. “Ah fuck.”

Reaching over, you grab the phone and are bombarded by a flurry of texts and missed calls. 

Some from Jenna, some from your bodyguard and driver, most from Link.

Jenna’s is the first one you click.

The phone rings three times before it gets picked up. Muffled, loud voices are all you hear at first before she eventually speaks up, “Hello?”

“Hey, I am so–”

“Where the hell are you? You’re ten minutes late. We’re all waiting for you.” Her tone is sharp and snipped. 

You had fucked up.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, I’ll be right there– there was…. uh.” You stand, gathering your jacket and silently bidding your producer goodbye as he looks on confused. “There was a lot of traffic. I am so sorry, I’m trying to make it as fast as I can.”

She sighs through the phone, “It’s…fine. Just get here as soon as you can, please.”

A little white lie never killed anybody.

You make it to the restaurant in record time. Pushing through the paparazzi camping outside the restaurant doors. Do they have no shame? Clearly not as they shout Jenna’s name at you; asking if you were there to see her, trying to get their piece of the scoop. Thankfully, the security guard had seen you and personally ushered you to the cast‘s table. Someone must have informed them that you were coming.

You’re still blinking away the spots in your vision from the camera flashes when you feel an arm pulling you down to sit. 

“What took you so long?”Jenna asked assertively, scanning you.

“I told you. Traffic.” You plaster a smile at all the eyes on you, subtly shrugging Jenna’s arm off yours with a little bit of attitude.

You don’t miss her clenched jaw. Plastering a smile in front of her costars who were trying their best not to gawk at you. "Well, where were you then? No one could get a hold of you, we were worried."

You tried your hardest to school your genuine surprise at her worry. "Sorry. I was working. My phone was off."

“Hi! I’m Melissa, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m a big fan.” A brunette extends her hand from across the long table – interrupting Jenna before she can say anything else.

You make the usual greetings, introducing yourself to Jenna’s costars and colleagues. You felt a bit like a trophy wife if you were being honest. Like eye candy on her arm, serving only to make her look good. Upon that realization, you feel a little flushed. You’re not sure why, that is the whole point of this whole thing. 

Her castmates have been sending you two knowing eyes over dinner — giving Jenna inconspicuous smirks and smug grins as if you couldn’t see. You keep your head down after the pleasantries are over and the main courses are brought out. 

Grateful, you don’t have to talk about your upcoming projects any longer.

“What’s wrong?” You nudge her elbow, noticing how she was pushing away some pieces of food on her plate. 

“I don’t like apples.” She mutters. 

You can’t fight the smile that creeps on your lips but you don’t tease. “Just push them off to the side and I’ll eat it.”

She looks at you. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You shrug taking a sip of your wine. 

“That doesn’t gross you out or anything? I know some people are weird about that sort of thing.” Jenna explains. 

“Dude, I’ll eat your apples, chill.” You laugh.

“Okay, thanks…” She mumbles, still looking at you but you turn, talking to Mason and his girlfriend.

Jenna feels a nudge on her side. “What?” 

“You two are cute.” Jasmin smirks. “And Y/N L/N? Not a bad catch at all.”

“Stop.” Jenna blushes. Unsure if she feels uncomfortable that some of her close and respected friends believe this lie so easily.

–

“Hey, give them some space!” The security guard shouts as the paparazzi come rushing toward the door as soon as the cast steps out. 

You were standing in the lobby waiting for Jenna. “Shit…” You hear her mutter, watching as she searches for something in her bag. 

“What’s up?” You ask.

“I forgot my sunglasses in my room. The flashes hurt my eyes.” She frowns. Wordlessly, you fish the pair you stashed in your jacket. 

“Here, wear mine.” You hold the glasses out, watching as she just stares at it. Rolling your eyes, you push it toward her. “Dude, just take it.”

“Thanks…” She mumbles, sliding them up her hair. 

You walk ahead of her, holding the door open as everyone trickles out. You’re regretting giving Jenna your only sunglasses cause the flashes are bright and it’s making your eyes water.

“Go ahead,” You usher, only leaving once everyone’s gone ahead of you. You trail behind ignoring the various men with large cameras chasing you as you walk down the sidewalk. 

“Y/N over here, please! Just one photo.”

“Y/N, just one photo of you and Jenna, please!” 

“What do you have to say about Vegas?”

You ignore them keeping your head down trying not to fall behind. 

“Where’s Y/N?” You hear over the sea of nameless faces. 

“Right here.” You say, sliding in beside her.

You miss the subtle sigh of relief she lets out.

“You can’t just walk behind everyone like that.” She grits, frustratedly.

"I tried to keep up." You mumbled like a scolded husband.

The shouting increases when you stand beside one another; practically rendering you blind with all the flashes. “Dammit.” 

You place an hand on her back, pushing her forward. “Put on the sunglasses and walk.”

“Y/N, please over here. Jenna!” The shouting is constant and blurs altogether all at the same time. 

“Ow.” You feel Jenna tumble when someone bumps her side causing her to bump harshly against you. Firmly, you grab her arm to preventing her from falling and pushed back against the crowd to check on her.

“Are you okay?” you ask worriedly as she fixes the lopsided glasses. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Hey. Watch it–” You grit at the closest person holding a camera. “It wasn’t me.”

The man insists, still shamelessly snapping flashes directly into your face and you begin to grow angry, slapping the camera out of his hands. “I said fucking watch it, asshole.”

You glare for a brief moment as the shouting gets impossibly louder. Knowing if you didn’t pull Jenna out of this, chaos would ensue. You link hands and drag her through the crowd, briskly walking to her castmates who shared looks of concern.

“Are you okay?” You ask, still walking but now barricaded by security and her friends.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I promise.” She squeezes your hand but then sighs, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

You scoff, “Are you serious? That guy pushed you.” 

“It was an accident and you kinda overreacted.” She whispers lowly. 

You clench your jaw, dropping her hand — Not wanting to blow up in front of her colleagues, you walk swiftly ahead.

You don’t talk even when you are both side-by-side being driven back to the hotel. Her driver has the partition up halfway but you see the nosy glances he keeps making at the rearview mirror as you and Jenna sit in silence; acutely aware to the growing tension between you and the actress.

You refuse to speak, just looking out the window as other cars pass by on the street. 

“Are you done ignoring me now?” She speaks up but you still don’t want to talk. “Seriously?”

“Y/N all he did was push me. A little shove, that’s all. I’m okay. What’s not okay is the phone call you know we’re going to get from Liv and Sarah about that guy’s camera.”

“He deserved it.” You mumble through the palm holding your head up. 

“I’m not saying he didn’t but you can’t just be aggressive to paparazzi like that. It’s exactly what they want.” She reasons, turning to you. Hoping you’ll finally look at her. 

“I know…”

“Look at me, please?” She places a hand on your arm.

You turn, keeping your face impassive.

She sends you a shy smile then laughed. “I mean it though, thank you for having my back. My Dad is gonna think this whole thing is hilarious.”

“Why?” You can’t help but join in.

“He’s a cop, so he’s a little protective. He’s been waiting to shove away a pap for the longest time. He’s gonna be so mad you beat him to it.” 

You laugh imagining her father’s reaction. 

–

“You haven’t seen Scream? Not even the original?” Jenna turns bewildered like it was the most blasphemous thing she’s ever heard. You were in her hotel suite, watching movies. For some reason, Jenna invited you over to her room after being dropped off at the hotel. “How? You’re an actress.”

You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no so you accepted.

“Yeah, sorry. Jeez. Way to sound like a film snob. I didn’t know there was a checklist of movies to watch before becoming an actor.” You snort reaching for more popcorn from the bowl beside you. 

“Shut up.” She hits you with the remote. “How have you not seen any of the Scream movies? You’re literally going to my premiere tomorrow.”

You hold up your hands in surrender, throwing a couple of kernels in your mouth. “Sorry, they’re not really my cup of tea.”

She rolls her eyes, snatching some popcorn from your hand, ignoring your protests. “Oh sorry, I forgot we have an action star in our midst.”

It was your turn to hit her arm, “Shut it. I just mean… I haven’t found the time to sit and watch them. They’re not exactly short films.”

“You’re in the MCU and Dune. Don’t talk to me about long movies.”

“Touché…” You can’t beat her there. They are ridiculously long movies. Probably why you’ve only ever seen them during premiere night and never again. “Well, put one on then. Let’s see what all the hype is about.”

She grins scrambling for the remote. “You’re on.”

You wait for her to pull up the Scream catalogue, chuckling at her visible excitement.

“Hey, why did you become an actress? and singer while we’re at it, Miss Grammy winner.” She nudges your shoulder.

You snort, shoving her lazily. “Shut up… Do you want the press interview answer or the real one?”

She raises a brow, immediately deciding. “The real one.”

You nod, feeling like she would say that.

“My mom... She was a rising star in the 80s but something happened and she never got to live out her dreams. When she had me she put me through all of the arts. I bumped and failed with most of them but acting and singing kinda stuck… I guess she saw those were the only two things I could stand so she pushed and pushed, it led to Jake discovering me and here we are.”

Jenna stays silent processing your story, she doesn’t miss the slight solemness your tone had taken. "Why do I feel like there's more to it than that?"

You chuckle, licking your lips. "Caught me... it's why I don't talk to my parents anymore."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. As soon as I turned eighteen I cut ties with them. She got too controlling, wanting money, wanting autonomy over my career so I took Link with me and moved to L.A. and did it on my own. I think... at some point acting became a spite thing with me because of her.

“Spite?” Jenna asks?

“Yeah… it was all I’ve ever known for a long time until I started making music. Probably the only time I’ve ever felt sure about a decision.”

"Oh..." Jenna finds herself saying again.

"Uh–sorry. I didn't mean to make it weird. We can just forget about it." You curl into yourself, tugging the blanket to your lap.

Jenna blinks, feeling dumb that she's made you think her silence is a bad thing.

"No..." She grabs your wrist. "Thank you for sharing with me."

You look into her eyes, feeling a bit small at her kind eyes. You know it's not out of pity but you couldn't help but want to close up again.

Pulling your hand away from her grip, you cough. "Of course, we're friends now."

"Oh, are we?" Jenna ignores the drop in her chest when you pulled away like that. “Okay, what’s the press answer then?”

“That I watched the movie Cabaret when I was younger and wanted to be like Liza Minelli.” You admit.

Jenna scoffs, “That’s literally my answer.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah except, it’s Dakota Fanning in Man on Fire.”

You chuckle, “doesn’t Denzel die in that one?”

“Yeah and what about it?” She raised a brow.

"But see, don’t fight it we’re meant to be friends... we even share the same answer."

"Shut up, dummy. Every actor has some sort of answer like that.”

Eventually, the two of you start a marathon of the Scream franchise. Which in hindsight, is kind of a bad idea seeing as it was way past midnight and the other actress still has a long week ahead of her. It seems like the events of the day catch up to her cause you feel a head slipping on your shoulder; distracting your focus halfway through Scream 3.

Jenna had fallen asleep with her head on your shoulder. You fight the urge to tense up not wanting to wake her up. She looked like she needed the rest and you relate more than anyone to her exhaustion. 

“Jenna…” You lightly tap, “You fell asleep, you need to go to bed.”

She grumbles, whining in her slumber. You feels your cheeks warm when she unconsciously moves to snuggle closer to you, throwing an arm over your waist.

Fuck.

Really?

God, I am not your strongest soldier. 

“Jen, seriously. Wake up.” You shake her arm.

“What?” She complains, her words muffled by your collarbone.

“You need to go to bed.”

The feeling of her soft lashes brushing against the material of your shirt as she blinks sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh…”

Jenna mumbles mortified. Quickly pushing herself off of you, unable to look you in the eyes. “Sorry.”

You don't mention how she might have punched your stomach and that you were desperately trying not to cough.

“S’okay…” You shake your head softly. You couldn't help but notice the way her hair fell over her eyes messily. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asks once she regains her senses, waking up from her short slumber.

Something tells Jenna she won’t be sleeping with how fast her heart is pounding; uncertain as to where her sudden anxiety is coming from. 

“Yeah… I’ll be waiting for you inside.” You stand gathering your belongings.

“Wait, you’re not walking the carpet with me?” Jenna pulled a face.

You raise a brow, “No? At least, I wasn't told I had to. They just said I had to show up.”

“Oh… okay.” She nods then sighed, long and profound.

You continue to raise a brow but don’t say anything. Not wanting to push her. You remember the last time you guys fought and are immediately turned off. No thanks, not trying to open that can of worms.

“Okay. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” She leans against the door.

Her premiere is a success. After borderline shoving you inside a tinted Cadillac, Link brushes your vintage Prada gown down; making sure you are in tip-top movie-star shape. You don’t walk the carpet, instead heading straight inside – making headlines. 

Your every damn move is a headline these days.

Silently thanking whatever God was out there that you didn’t because the way your jaw dropped when you see Jenna was downright embarrassing. Your reaction would surely have been a running piece if cameras were around.

Your managers would love it though.

Link had to forcefully elbow your side as Jenna walks up to greet you. 

“Wow…” You manage to say. “You look stunning Jenna.”

Jenna was glad for the dim lights in the theatre, “Thanks.” She blushes, casting her eyes down.

“You look great too.” She scans you up and down, suddenly feeling warm under her gape. 

Maybe it was the way her makeup is done or the deconstructed tuxedo for a dress that she had on tonight but she looked more mature, intimidating? Like she could throw you around a little and you’d just gladly ask her to do it again.

Wait, what?

“Thanks… Link and I should head to our seats but I just wanted to congratulate you. This is seriously amazing.” You express sincerely.

Jenna flushes more, waving you off with a huff and a lazy hand. “Please.”

“Seriously!”

Link coughs loudly, interrupting the bubble you and Jenna found yourselves in. “Okay, someone’s a little impatient. We better go.”

A hand reaches out, grabbing you. “Do you wanna, maybe, I don’t know. Sit beside me?”

You turn, surprised. “Oh? What about Enrique?” You glance at her stylist standing just behind her pretending like he wasn’t listening; fiddling on his phone. 

“I’m sure he won’t mind switching to sit with Link, right Enrique?” She turns, asking her friend.

He grins widely, “Nope. All good with me!”

“Perfect!” She smiles at you, still grabbing your arm. 

“We’ll be down there!” Jenna calls out to Link and Enrique linking your fingers out of nowhere as you walk to beside her costars.

You still don’t say anything when Jenna wraps herself around you when you make it to your seats, waving as people cheer with a large smile before pulling you to sit down. 

Only then did she pull herself away, “sorry about that.”

“All good.” You mumble after realizing what happened; turning to face the large screen.

Perfect photo op.

“Hey is that sharpie on your dress?”

“Yes.” She sighs.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch but you can’t stop the growing unpleasantness in your chest. You decide to brush it off and save face for Jenna’s night. Your sulking and feelings can wait in the privacy of your own four walls and definitely not at a high-profile movie premiere.

By the time you found yourself at the NBC building in a random dressing room at the SNL studio, waiting for Jenna’s monologue you forget all about it. You lay lazily on a stiff and most likely old couch, scrolling through your phone. 

A knock on the door has you pulling off your headphones. “Come in.”

“Hey Y/N.” A head peaks in making you sit up briskly. “Aliyah, hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just uh– Jenna’s asking for you.” She sends a sheepish smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“Oh,” Your head perks up. “Is she okay?” You question, following the smaller girl past hallways that all looked the same; trying not to bump into the various stagehands buzzing around. 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s kinda freaking out, though and… we can’t get her to calm down.” You both stop at a closed door. 

“Oh… why me?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Uh… okay she didn’t exactly say you but I saw your episode and you were hilarious and who better to talk her down than someone who’s done it before.” She flashes a large grin before opening the door and shoving you inside.

The room is empty save for Jenna dressed in a short-legged suit. You force yourself to blink, reminding yourself that you are on a time crunch.

“Jenna.”

She snaps her head at your voice, and a noticeable tremble in her fingers is the first thing you see. “What–what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in your seat by now.”

“Your sister asked me to come.” You admit, walking forward.

“I’m fine. Go to your seat, I’ll see you after the show.” She turns her back to you, looking over sheets of paper with multi-coloured inked notes scribbled on every open space.

“Take a deep breath for me, Jenna.” You walk closer, slowly bringing the hand tightly clutching her notes down. The bones in her fingers relax as she drops the paper. She doesn’t say anything when you don’t disconnect your hands. 

You find yourself standing much closer to her.

“Take a deep breath.” You repeat.

Jenna closes her eyes, inhaling a long, deep and audible breath in then out. She clutches your fingers as she does so, unconsciously leaning back against you to ground her bubbling anxiety. 

She stays in your hold with her back against your chest: a death grip on your fingers. Your swipe a thumb over the skin of her hand. “It’ll be okay…”

“Thanks…” Jenna looks into your eyes, taking one last deep breath.

Briefly, you hold her gaze feeling tepid under the intense look in her eyes. You can’t tell what they're saying but for some reason, the way her dark pupils seemed softer under the fluorescent lights had you under a spell.

And for a fleeting second, you thought she was leaning in closer to you — eyes flickering to your lips.

“Don’t mention it.” You drop her hand immediately, taking wide steps back.

Not liking the way her eyes flickered down.

You don’t like what that could possibly mean.

Jenna’s turning rapidly, pretending not to notice as you take sizable steps away from her. “What did my sister say?”

You laugh, shoving your hands in your jacket. “That she liked my SNL episode and thought someone who’s done it before can talk you down.”

“Talk me down?” She scrunches her nose.

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” You shrug.

“Your episode was okay.” Jenna turns away to face a mirror, brushing away her bangs.

You take the bait, glad she wasn’t trembling anymore. “Okay? I got the whole cast to break, it’s considered a classic. It was nominated for an Emmy that year.”

“It didn’t win though.”

You scoff playfully, “I’m leaving. You clearly don’t need my help anymore.”

She laughs obnoxiously as you stomp out of her dressing room. “Wait.”

You stop just before you open the door. “Yeah?”

“Thank you… for talking me down.” She tucks a hair backs, a little shy.

The small smile creeping on your face is hard to subdue. “Don’t mention it. Now, go. You’re gonna kill it.” You wink, exiting the dressing room.

“She’s all good.” You tell her team.

“That’s it? She hasn’t calmed down all day, it takes you – what, five minutes?” Enrique crosses his arms. Jenna’s mom smirks, patting his back then walked past him and into the room as the rest of her family slowly trickled in; her sisters staring at you intensely.

“Uh sorry?” You blush furiously, walking off in the other direction to find your seat.

Jenna kills it, but that was never a surprise. You can tell she’s nervous throughout her monologue but after Fred Armisen does his bit – from beside you, which had been a pleasant surprise. She begins to grow confident, feeling pleased with your embarrassment when the camera pans to you and Fred.

You’d get her back for that. Making a mental note to cook up a special revenge plan, just for her.

Eventually, she falls into the role naturally. Nailing her punchlines perfectly, working the crowd like an expert, and exquisitely performing her skits. It’s a shock to you when you overhear someone behind you say she’s never done live stage work before.

She's so natural at it.

It's a privilege to watch her perform.

You nearly die when she changes into a red suit as she introduces the musical guest of the night.

Actually, you begin to slide off your seat when she comes out in a pinstripe suit — a reference to the Addams family you overheard in passing.

When credits roll and the ‘LIVE’ sign turns off. You remain in your seat. Unsure if you are just admiring her or if it’s ‘cause your legs no longer functioned. You can’t fight that admiration as it grows when you see how supportive her family is as they cheer her on and celebrate this win as one unit. 

You smile, wishing you can relate. At least some people had that in their lives.

A part of you thinks it makes the whole world’s difference, having a support system like that. But you would never know.

Silently, you slip out the stage doors and back to the random dressing room you’ve decided to take refuge in. 

You narrowly miss Jenna trying to find you through the masses; her smile dropping a bit when she realizes you’re gone.

– 

You don’t get a chance to personally congratulate Jenna because Link was bursting into the dressing room — after complaining about trying to find you for ten minutes. Rambling on how you’re needed back in Los Angeles and there was no time to say goodbye.

When you catch the other actress it’s by pure stroke of luck. You're going through checkout at the hotel, waiting for Link to do all the work as you wait behind him. 

You feel slightly guilty that you're just leaving without warning.

You should send Jenna a text, right? But would she even care if you left so suddenly? She did want you out of the city just a few days ago.

But then, you two literally just, might’ve, maybe, almost kissed/shared a moment in her dressing room, so who knows what you should do at this point.

You feel a migraine forming at the base of your skull, the longer you thought about the other actress.

“Y/N?” A voice breaks your self-deprecating thoughts. You turn to see Jenna with her team and family trailing beside her.

Jenna’s smile falls when she sees your bags. Her family walks ahead but you certainly don’t miss their curious eyes as she stops in front of you.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes keep flickering between you and your bags.

Link avoids her sharp, accusing eyes.

“Back to L.A. sorry I was just about to send you a text, actually.” You confessed, a little ashamed. 

It felt like you got caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing… like when you lie to your long-time partner about the real reason why you want some time apart.

“A text?” She raises an unamused brow not liking your answer.

“Yeah, Jake wants me back in L.A. Uh– sorry, was I supposed to tell you?” You ask, a bit confused.

“Tell me?” She scoffs, face dropping. “Yeah, you’re supposed to tell me. I was going to invite you to dinner to celebrate with my family and the SNL cast tonight. But you weren’t even in the audience anymore by the time I finished.”

“Sorry… I thought you’d want to celebrate with your family.” You shrug lamely, torn between feeling guilty and confused at her reaction to the news of your sudden departure.

She made it feel like you were trying to escape.

“Well, I thought–” 

She cuts herself off with a huff then looked back as her family waits for her by the elevator.

“Thought what?”

As if remembering she was still out in a very public setting, after hosting one of the most recognizable programs in America; Jenna blinks out of it. Shoving her feelings down.

“Nothing. Have a safe flight back to L.A. I’ll see you in a few days… or weeks” She mumbles with an edginess to her words, walking away before you can say anything else.

“Tough break, buddy.” Link pats a comforting hand on your shoulder as you were rendered speechless. Unsure if you should chase her down and apologize.

Damn can she walk fast in those heels.

But, why would you be apologizing for having to do your job?

But the way her brow creased like she was actually upset caused an unpleasant drop in your chest. Not enjoying how she was upset and that it seemed like it was all your fault. You? Nah. Maybe she’s still dealing with other stuff and is just taking it out on you. 

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What. Just. Happened.” You turn, aggressively snatching your card from the hotel worker who definitely enjoyed the show.

“Are you blind?” He scoffs then walks away from you.

“What do you mean? Link… what do you mean?” 

-

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[svkahug]

once more to see you

[chapter three; ao3 link]

tags: slow burn, injury, forced proximity, quarry!reader, hurt/comfort

summary: On the run with the Empire on your heels, a bounty hunter seems to be your only option and your best bet to getting back home.

a/n: heard someone say tumblr has no fluff well i shall provide

---

Space is so… quiet . So empty. Sometimes there’s not another breathing creature for miles. Then you hit a planet. You’ve tallied all the planets you’ve been on recently as the Mandalorian goes on the search, relentless. Yavin, Geonosis, Lothal. Desolate and lifeless planets. But you never see them. The Mandalorian isn’t exactly a tour guide but he does talk to you more often as you strap yourself onto the co-pilot seat beside him. Him and the kid are gone for days at a time, no longer than a week. 

You eat, you sleep, you dream. You’ve snooped around every nook and cranny of the Razor Crest. It’s not as if he’s going to pop out of nowhere and chastise you. You can probably traverse this ship from memory alone. 

You find what you assume is his bed. But you don’t sleep in it. Not even on the days where he’s gone. It’s just as small and cramped as the ship and you simply can’t believe anyone even uses that thing. 

The worry that he might have perished out there crosses your mind. But you couldn’t let it get to you. He uses the ship's emergency comms to check in at night. Sometimes he doesn’t.  

You shuffle through the supplies, you use the fresher, you stare outside the windows of the cockpit then you sleep on the floor. Until on the nights that you don’t. You think it started when they left for Lothal. They were gone for four days and you barely slept a wink.

It was the nightmares, you think. Twisted and vile things that were a manifestation of your fears. 

You don’t like to think about it. When your ship crashed on Jakku. You lost people. Guardsmen that've been with you since childhood. People died violent deaths to protect you. 

The memories come in flashes, unwanted and painful. They chased you through that rocky and desolate planet. The Empire rained hell. You ought to be flattered seeing as how they would go through all this trouble for you. If not for the night terrors you had of being back in that rubble, of seeing people drop dead like flies, and smelling the stench of gasoline from their flamethrowers. 

You wake up, heaving and choking back sobs, the heat of the flame feeling too real and too close. On the good nights, you’re able to talk to the Mandalorian through the emergency comm on the console of the ship. 

You’re mulling around the cockpit, memorizing the console controls, wondering what each one does when a soft crackle gets your attention. You’re so used to the quiet that the soft sound causes you to perk up immediately. 

“Mando?”

“— Hello ?”

“Took you long enough.” 

“ How’s the ship?”

You look at the blinking communicator as if it’s done you some personal offense. “...I’m fine, thank you very much. Ship’s intact, at least. Old thing.”

“... And you?”

“Are you asking if I’m still intact? Because the answer is no. I’ve lost my mind. I think I can hear colors.”

“ Yeah, isolation will do that to you .”

“What about you? Any sign of her?”

“... No. I'm in a village. No one’s seen anyone matching her description. Fob’s no help either. ” 

“Oh.” It’s nearly been two weeks. Four planets and more parsecs than you can count. “A village?”

“ Yes. Almost a day’s trek from the ship, so I’ll be back there by tomorrow. ”

You hesitate. “Can you stay? Just for a bit?”

“ Have you been sleeping? ”

“Not really.” 

“...I can keep the line open for a bit. Try to rest. ”

—

Two weeks later.

Batuu was green. That was the first thing you noticed. As the ship geared closer to the surface you see that those are actually trees, densely packed together to form a jungle. 

The ramp lowers and you can’t help it, you stand on the mouth of the ship, admiring the life of the planet. They’re gigantic, with bark twice the usual size and vines hanging from their branches, unlike what you had back at home.

The Mandalorian falls into step beside you and you can already sense what he’s about to say so you beat him to it.

“I’m just going to look.” The crest is parked in a clearing in the middle of the forest, flattening the long grass. It smells like damp soil and you can hear birds cawing in the distance. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you as you slowly walk down the ramp, grateful for the fresh air. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s ancient.” He counters, his boots crunching on the ground as he flanks you. “These trees have been here for a thousand years. They’re sacred.”

You turn to him. “Don’t you think I should—”

“ No .” He says firmly. 

“She’s trained. Been in military command for as long as I can remember. She can outsmart you and she can fight….She wouldn’t run if she saw me.”

“Believe me, I can handle it. If she’s even here. I’m not risking you for an intel that could be weeks old.” He says, wading through a field of long grass, the little kid hovering nearby. 

“You’re no use to me dead.”

You make a face, smiling sarcastically. “ Charmed .”

“You’re welcome.” He deadpans. “Now get back on the ship.” 

—

There’s a storm outside when the Mandalorian comes back two days later.  You’ve fallen asleep to the sound of the smattering of rain on the roof of the ship when there’s a loud clang outside and you shoot up almost immediately.  

Suddenly, the ramp creaks awake as it opens, letting the water in. The sound of the rain is deafening now and you’re barely up on your feet before the Mandalorian sprints inside the vessel, the child’s pram zooming shortly behind him. He makes his way up into the cockpit immediately, firing up the engine before you can even hear the ramp shut below. Another crash comes from outside, and what sounded like an animal growling and clawing on the ground. Panic rises inside you as you stumble into the cockpit. 

“ What is that —?”

“Strap in now . We’re leaving.”

You do as you're told. “Did you find her?”

“No.” The ship lifts off the ground, and there’s something clanging on the side of the ship now. 

“ Who is that? ” They found us, you think. They fucking found us. 

“Bandits.”

“Wh– Seriously ?“

You’re in hyperspace when you finally notice it. You couldn’t help the gasp that escapes you, “ Holyfuckingshit , Mando—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He says, voice a little more ragged than usual, as if he didn’t have a knife sticking out of his fucking back.

You shoot up from your seat. “Shit , what— what do we do ? Holy —fuck .” It all comes out in a tumble. He’s facing you now but you can still see the knife sticking out of him. It’s really fucking huge. Especially because it’s halfway stuck inside him.

“Wait, wait here.” You’re practically flying through the ship when you come back with the kit, ripping it open on the floor of the cockpit and rummaging through its contents. “Here, what do you need?”

“The cauterizer.” His voice sounds thinner, even through the modulator, and it only adds a layer of panic to your already worsening state. “Look for the cauterizer— That— Yeah that one. Good.” You hand it to him. “You’re doing good. Now, you’re going to take it out—”

“What? No way .” You step back.

“Listen–”

“I don’t know how to — ”

“Hey, hey, breathe .” He grasps both your hands in his. His gloves are damp, and you see the droplets of water on his armor, his chrome visor staring up at you. “Calm down. It’s going to be alright. As long as I don’t bleed out, it’s fine.” 

“You’re kidding me right? How is that fine ?”

“Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

Trust him? That’s literally something the two of you couldn’t get right for nearly a month now. Now he’s basically putting his life in your hands and asking you to— Fuck . “Fuck, fine. I—I’ll do it.”

“Okay, you’re going to take out the dagger. Then you’re going to cauterize the wound with this.” He flicks some sort of switch and it fucking zaps . He places it in your hands. “Are you ready? You’re going to have to be quick, alright?”

He makes quick work of his chestplate, the armor clanging on the ground just as you come back with the scissors, ripping violently through his undershirt. You don’t think, you just do it and to your horror and surprise, the blade comes out easier than you expected. He lets out a long and loud groan, doubling over and gripping the console just as the bloody weapon joins the rest of his armor on the ground. You place a hand on his back to steady him, his skin warm.

“Maker, I’m sorry.” You say sincerely, gripping the cauterizer in one hand and steadying him with the other. He barks out a shout just as the laser makes contact with his skin. “ Stars , I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry… I’msosorry .” Your apologies turn into a whisper under your breath like a mantra, staying laser focused on the task at hand as he makes pained, broken noises underneath you. His fisted hand comes down onto the edge of the console.

It’s done eventually. The process felt longer than it was and there’s a moment when all you can hear is his heavy breathing mingling with the peaceful hum of hyperspace. It’s a juxtaposition of sounds. You couldn’t possibly imagine the pain he’s in and all he’s got to show for it now is a fresh jagged scar on the back of his shoulder.

You want to sit, but before you can even move an inch, he beats you to it. Suddenly, he’s tipping forward, a little too much and you recognize the fact that he’s going limp. You move just in time to catch him, letting your entire body support his weight as his helmet digs into your stomach while you try to get him back up into the chair without hurting his freshly closed wound. You hear garbling coming from underneath the armor. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hands on his pauldrons to support him, smearing red all over the metal. “It—It’s okay, I have you.” Literally. You don’t see any other option on how to move an injured man twice your size without hurting him right now and you’re too tired to think of a solution. So, you let him rest like that; his head on your stomach. 

You take a deep breath, your dominant hand cramping and your limbs feeling like you just strapped weights on them. You’re also getting colder and colder as the water he brought in earlier mingles with your sweat. Your hands are bloody. He makes another pained sound, a gloved hand coming up to grip your hip. 

“You ok?” You whisper. 

“ Mhm .”

“...Th—That wasn’t them, right?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Relief washes over you and you hardly feel his thumb brush a circle on your hip. 

You stay like that for longer than a moment. At some point, he’s placed his elbow on his knees to relieve some of the weight on you, still keeping his hand on your waist to steady you as you whizz through hyperspace. 

You let out a sigh, trying to focus on anything but how uncomfortable you are. 

It dawns on you you’ve never been this close before and you’ve never touched him, let alone seen his skin. It’s the first time you see him underneath all that metal. 

Suddenly, to you, there’s a lot of him. Weeks of looking at him and seeing nothing but metal and now the large expanse of his back is exposed to the cool air where you cut through his shirt. He’s a little pale from the injury and you also think it’s something to do with not being exposed to the sun that much. Your fingers grip his bare shoulder as you push him up just enough to make sure he doesn’t slip. His skin is damp, and he vaguely smells of rain, and something earthy. He’s a man underneath that armor, you almost forgot.

You watch the steady rise and fall of his torso as his lungs expand, muscles contracting as he tries to take in more air, and you notice the moles on his back. Tiny and completely unnoticeable marks scattered on the expanse of skin unless you stare really hard. You wonder if he knows this. Without thinking, you drag a clean hand, from his pauldron, to the small spot on his back, tracing it. Then to the next, and next, careful of his bad shoulder. It seemed like something you should do naturally and with no hesitation. You’re completely out of it, then, gently running your fingers along his back in a trancelike state, like your action and him feeling anything were two completely separate things. You hear him release a breath underneath you but you don’t feel the shudder that runs up his spine. You don’t see him shut his eyes underneath the helmet, don’t notice him lean back into your touch. Mando tries not to feel the throbbing pain on his shoulder, instead he focuses on the feel of your hand against his skin. He wonders if you were doing it on purpose. Or if you were in shock.

“Are you okay?” comes his question. He sounds more full now. Like he’s back to his usual self.

“Yeah,” you breathe, hand stopping in the middle of his back like you just traced a map and finally settled on a location.

You feel a squeeze on your hip, his head resurfacing from where it rested on your stomach and you’re suddenly faced with the chrome visor of his helmet.

“I’m fine. The kid’s fine. It’s over.” He says, sensing your distress. You nod silently. You can see him, and your reflection on his helmet but you can’t really… see it. Everything feels so cloudy and far away. You don’t want to look at the blood staining your hands, on his back. 

After dropping out of hyperspace, you lock yourself in the fresher and don’t come out half an hour later.

—

You assumed he was passed out from where he sat on the floor of the hull, resting, when you got out of the fresher until he said something. “We’re going back to Nevarro.”

“What for?” you whisper, meticulously laying out a fresh set of blankets on the floor. You were trying not to think much about anything right now. The baby is asleep, the hull is dark and silent, save for your whispers.

“I’m meeting with my employer, and we need supplies.” He’s changed out of his damp clothes now, and didn’t bother with putting the beskar back on yet.

You frown, listening to his attempt to get up. “You’re going to work for him?”

“Yes. I’m not made of credits.” You could argue that, technically, he was. But you feel like that would have been borderline offensive. He finds himself expecting you to say something back, but you’re quiet. He at least expected you to fight him on this, like you usually do. 

“Hey.” Comes the modulated tone of his voice, sounding hesitant. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” You chuck your damp clothes in the corner, not meeting his eyes—or rather, the chrome visor now staring in your direction.

“I think you’re in shock.” He takes hold of your elbow as you make your way across the other end of the hull. “Talk to me.”

You stop in your tracks, feeling oddly vulnerable in your state. “...You just scared me.” You state plainly and just when the words leave your mouth that’s when you’re able to pinpoint what it is you’ve been feeling all alone. Fear. An image flashed through your mind—limp bodies on the ground, eyes wide open but so empty and lifeless. The memories rears its ugly head at you tonight, resurfacing faster than you can help it. 

“ Maker —” You breathe out a puff of air, pressing the palm of your hand to your eyes until you can see stars. “I—I don’t want to do that again. Please don’t—don’t make me do that again. I—I don’t know why I’m—I mean, shit, you were the one with th—the knife in your back.” 

The Mandalorian’s hand drifts down from your elbow to grip your hand in a gloved hand, his filtered voice surprisingly really soft. “I think you’re just tired…. It’s alright.”

A wet sob fights its way out of you. Stars, it’s pathetic. It’s so fucking embarrassing . 

You wipe away your tears angrily with your free hand, a lump forming in your throat as you try to stifle a sob. You just stand there, frustratingly wiping away your tears as they come, sobbing quietly into the palm of your hands. It’s all really caught up to you now. How much the past few weeks—hell, months —really fucked you up. He was right. You were tired. You wanted to go home. You wanted to grieve . 

You suspect he might just leave you there, tell you to at least get some rest before going back up the cockpit to maneuver the ship to Nevarro but he doesn’t. 

The hand that’s holding yours starts to tug you closer, hesitantly and you go willingly, still wiping tears until you’re close enough to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his good shoulder, letting him soak up your fresh tears. He’s warm without the beskar, and you practically melt into him.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” You shook your head against the soft cloth of his black undershirt running down to cover his arms, now wrapping securely around you, albeit awkwardly like he really didn’t know what to do and was simply improvising. “...It’s okay.” He runs his hand across your back soothingly and you hum softly against his shoulder.

A part of you is surprised at the gentleness in which he handles you, something you only ever see him reserve for the kid, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away. While he never showed any ill intentions towards you, you could never really read him. This was a job. You were a job to him. And he never failed to treat you as such. The things he did, you always assumed, was to benefit him and the kid. Your protection was just a byproduct.  You had no qualms about it, but months on the run, weeks alone, and the uncertainty of it all was getting to you, you admit and you just needed… you needed someone that wasn’t hunting you down or trying to kill you. 

You stay like that until your sobs subside and you’re taking calming breaths against him, his hand lingering . It was nice. This was nice. You turn your face into the crook of his neck, where there’s a spot where a patch of skin is showing. You find yourself wondering what he looked like all of a sudden

Suddenly, a soft cry pierces the silence of the ship and you’re suddenly reminded about where you were.

Slowly, you part. “I’ll get him,” you say with a nod. 

That night, you fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

[tonberry-yoda]

Take a Break - Asra

notes - IM BACK FROM THE DEAD AND WITH A FIC?!?!?! Hi guys! <3 I've been in a bit of a block feeling like my writing is meh, but I wanted to pump this out to get out of said block. I'm finally on a short break for school, but I'll be working then, but now, I had time to write and wanted to give you all something, even if it's short and sweet. I also wanted to thank you all for the support even as I've been on my hiatus. I nearly have 200 followers, and I just can't thank everyone enough for being so loving! Sorry this note was kinda long, but I really want you all to know how much I love you <3 word count - 941

“Hi Asra.” You smile, giving the boy goo-goo eyes as he walks into the shop that the two of you owned.

“Hello, y/n.” he says, not once looking at you. He was too busy looking down at a list of some sort to notice you staring at him while you stood behind the counter.

“Busy?” you asked.

“Mhm.” was all he let out before walking up to his office.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. Another busy day that clouded both you and Asra. You were used to it by now, but a break sounded nice every once in a while. So instead of that break, you played with a bottle full of tea leaves that you were proud to say you made yourself. You didn't hate your job, if anything, you loved it more than any job you’ve had before. The problem was Asra. He looked constantly stressed and beyond tired. You hated that he was starting to look like he was the one who hated his job. He had so much passion years ago, but now he just looked swamped.

“Good evening, y/n!” you heard a familiar voice say as the bell rang above the door. Your ears perked up and a smile spread across your face as you saw one of your regular customers walk in.

“Evening, Mr. Bennet! How are you?” You set down the little bottle and walked over to the man, shaking his hand.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “Busy as always. You?” He hung his coat on a rack next to the door and started browsing.

“I'm all right,” you admitted. “Bout to close up shop, so that’s nice.”

“I won't be too long.” He looked at some of the tea you had made, carefully reading the instructions. “Where’s Asra, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Oh, he's upstairs. Probably working as always.” You rested your cheek on your hand.

“Go figure. Poor man needs to catch a break.”

“Tell me about it.” you chuckled.

“Well, when you see him again,” Mr. Bennet said, walking to the counter with a box of tea leaves. “Tell him that he has to get that break, for me, of course.”

You laughed and took the money from the man, locking the door behind him as he left.

“Was that Mr. Bennet?” you heard Asra ask, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly as you began to clean up for the night. “He just got some tea, that’s all.”

“Dammit,” Asra groaned, leaning against the wall. “I had to ask him something.”

“You know he’ll be back. He’s in here all the time. Plus, he told me to tell you to take a damn break.”

Asra ran his fingers through his white hair while his other hand clutched some tarot cards. “You know I can't do that.” he sighed.

“Whatever you say.” You finished sweeping up the rest of the shop and walked past Asra.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my room. To take a break.” So, you did. You walked straight to your room and laid on your bed. It was soft, as always, and all of your stuffed animals gave you soft smiles.

Through your window, you could see the moon peeking over some mountains behind the town and a smile spread across your face. You quickly jumped out of bed to open your window to bring in some cool night air. It smelled fresh. You saw crows fly overhead and could see the lights from the rest of the village turning on as the night market began overflowing with people. You’ve been needing this relaxation for weeks, and finally, it was a weekend where you had time for it.

At your door, you heard Asra clear his throat. When you turned around, he had Faust wrapped around his bicep and the tarot cards were still in his hand.

“Need something?” you asked.

“Not really.” he said quietly.

“You look tired.” Your voice was softer than his.

Asra chuckled. “I am tired.”

“Then take a break. Please.”

Faust slid her way off of Asra’s arm and slid over to you. You picked her up and she wrapped herself around your wrist. “Break!” she said to Asra.

“There’s so much to do before the weekend is over though.” Asra sighed and leaned against the frame of your door.

“Like what?” you asked.

He thought for a minute. You assumed that he was going to try to make some excuse to keep himself busy. There were probably things he had to do over the weekend, but you also knew that Asra was the kind of guy who always felt the need to be productive.

You walked over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Asra, I'm serious, you need a break. Those eyebags don't look good on you.” You ran your thumb underneath his eye over the dark spots there.

He softened to your touch, leaning his cheek on your warm hand. “What if everything falls apart because of me?” he asked.

“I think you’re just making excuses.” you giggled.

He took your hand in his own and smiled softly at you. Faust, you noticed, had disappeared, but you didn't mind, especially when you just saw her curling up in a little cage you had made for her.

“Do you want some hot cocoa?” you asked Asra as he took a seat on your bed.

“That would be wonderful, y/n, thank you.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed him so that he was laying down. “I'll be right back.” You winked.

~~~~~

the arcana masterlist | pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[garlimcbread]

write me a fic where like everyone lived but over time the gang all moved out of Tulsa and stopped talking as much- and how those idiots reunited and what was it like?

UGHHHH I LOVE HOW YOU THINK POOKIE

I am NOT good at writing fics so this is probably gonna be either bad or ooc (probably both)

Ponyboy leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head and groaning at the feeling of his back popping. He's really gotta stop hunching over his desk like this.

He surveys his work so far. The book is nowhere near done, and he's still gotta edit it, but he's happy with his progress.

As he's putting his laptop away, the phone on his desk rings. He groans, assuming its the publishing house asking about his progress again. He picks it up regardless.

"Hello?"

"Pony?"

"Soda?"

Pony hasn't heard from either of his brothers in a while. It's not that they're on bad terms, it's just that none of them have reached out, at least not to Ponyboy.

"Hey Pony. Uh- Johnny's coming in next week. I know this is last minute, but do ya' wanna come over? We're all gonna be there."

What, did Soda think Ponyboy wanted nothing to do with any of them? Maybe he is as dumb as he says he is.

"Course, Soda. Where? The old house?"

"Yeah. Darry's just as stubborn as he's always been, didn't wanna get out."

They both laugh. Pony wonders why he hadn't reached out before now.

"I'll be there. Even Dally'll be there?"

"Yup. I'm just as shocked, but I think Dally'd do anything for Johnny."

Dally had moved back to New York shortly after he'd turned 18. Up state. He didn't want anything to do with New York City. Last Ponyboy heard, he was going to Watertown.

Pony had never heard of it, but it's not like he could convince Dally not to do something. Nobody could, except for Johnny.

Dally had wanted to move to Rochester, but Johnny's mom had moved there shortly before, and Johnny didn't wanna run into her while visiting Dally.

"Right. I'll get on a plane as fast as I can."

"Alright, Cali-boy."

Pony snorts. "Don't call me that."

The line goes dead, indicating Soda had hung up. Pony puts the phone back on the receiver.

The phone ringing cuts through the air. Pony groans. That's definitely the publishing house now.

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

Ponyboy didn't think he'd be flying places so soon. Sure, he'd had to travel for those book signings last month, but he usually only does those every couple years since they take a lot out of him.

As he grabs his luggage from the overhead bin and shuffles out of the plane with the crowd, trying to avoid being recognized even if he's in Oklahoma, he can't help but feel excited.

He hasn't seen the gang in years. Dally had moved out the second he could, as did Steve.

Two-Bit stayed with his mama for a couple more years after that until she got fed up with him doing nothing but drink all day and kicked him out.

Johnny moved out as soon as he could, and Ponyboy doesn't blame him. His dad had stayed in town afterall, even after Johnny's mom left to live closer to her family.

Ponyboy left before Sodapop did, even though he's younger. Darry hadn't left, apparently.

Ponyboy was just gonna grab a rental car and head out to Tulsa, but he gets absolutely body slammed by someone as soon as he's out in the main lobby. Pony shrieks and starts to fight the unknown person off, until he hears them laugh.

"Sodapop Curtis!" He scolds Soda. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I can't help it! I was just so excited to see you!"

Ponyboy huffs, sitting up as Soda gets off him.

"Help me up, asshole."

Soda snickers and does as Ponyboy asked him to.

"You got everything? I'll drive you."

"Yeah, I got everything."

Sodapop smiles at him. Ponyboy can't help but smile back, regardless of how annoyed he is.

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

When Ponyboy gets through the door he's already being tackled again.

"Ponyboy!"

"Keith!" He squawks, "Get off!"

Sodapop laughs as he steps around them. "You're awful popular today, Pony."

Darry yanks Two-Bit off him, tossing him on the couch right on top of Steve. Two-Bit continues to cackle even as Steve shouts at him and Darry.

"Sorry, Pony. I've been tryin' to reel him in." Darry helps Pony up off the floor.

"It's alright, Darry. I know you've probably got you hands full with him and Dal and Soda."

"Dal ain't here yet, Pone," Johnny pipes up. He'd been so quiet Ponyboy hadn't even noticed him there.

Pony grins, going in for a hug. "Hey, Johnny."

Johnny smiles back, hugging Ponyboy tight. Jesus, the guy's gotten tall. "Hey, Pony. How you been? How's Cali?"

Pony shrugs. "Well, it's Cali." Ponyboy pulls away from Johnny, but keeps him within arms reach by settling his hands on Johnny's shoulders. "How's Mexico?"

"Fine, better than stayin' with my old man."

Johnny had moved in with his dad's side of the family in Mexico. They're nicer than him, which makes Ponyboy wonder what the hell happened to that man to make him so bitter.

"Ain't that the truth? How long are you stayin'?"

"Just a week, then my visa runs out. Wish I could stay longer," Johnny sighs.

"Wish I could too. Where's Dally?"

"Probably still on the plane. I think it takes longer to get here from Watertown than Los Angeles."

"It does," Pony confirms, "Only took me three hours to get here."

Johnny pulls Pony into a hug again. "Still too long, I think," He mumbles into Pony's shoulder.

Ponyboy rolls his eyes, patting Johnny's back. "Yeah, yeah."

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

Dally comes through the door an hour after everyone gets settled. Johnny hops right off the couch to greet Dally with a hug.

Dally doesn't push him back, but only pats his back. "Glory, kid. You got tall. What're they puttin' in the water down there?"

"Missed you, Dal."

"Missed you too, Johnnycake." Dally pats him on the back one more time, and then gently pushes Johnny back.

"How's Watertown?"

"Fine. Ain't like New York City, that's for sure."

"Well, that's good." Johnny smiles.

"Kinda. It's kinda boring, too."

Johnny snickers. "Good to see you haven't changed much, Dal."

"You ain't changed either, Johnnycake." Dally grins.

Johnny rolls his eyes. "Oh, I've changed plenty, Dal."

"Agree to disagree. Where's Cali-boy?"

"Quit callin' me that!" Pony shouts from his old bedroom. Darry had told him he could set up there for the week.

"Well, there he is." Johnny smiles.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! I just wanna say your writing is amazing, and I absolutely adore your tmc stories and writing overall it's so good!!!! I was wondering if I could get a continuation of the Adam x gn reader where they found him alongside Thatcher (maybe they drive him to somewhere safe like an inn/motel and care for him. Whether it be cuddling, reassurance, allowing him to vent. Bcuz they just don't mind him being an alternate. Regardless of what he is they care for him and want the best.) I need my boy to feel okay :(

Aw thanks! I'm surprised ya'll wanted continuations for not just one of my Adam fics, but TWO of them. It makes me happy though!

For this one, I imagine Reader finding out how truly difficult helping Adam is gonna be when he starts acting more like an Alternate, but it's a fight they refuse to give up on.

So enjoy <3

Read the first part/prequel here

..........

"Well..here we are. I told the lady we're staying several nights, but my credit card should cover it."

Opening the door to the motel room, you pocketed the key before heading inside to check things out, tossing some bags onto the table.

Adam, in the meantime, stood there awkwardly in the hallway. But after you called his name, he snapped out of his trance and entered--

Only to bump his head on the top of the doorframe and wince in pain, rubbing the spot where it hurt as he scowled at nothing specific.

After everything that's happened tonight, he forgot that his painful metamorphosis and splintering of bones made him a few inches taller...not that he considered it a plus in any way, shape, or form.

If the circumstances were different, he'd probably brag about it to everyone.

Fortunately you didn't notice his mishap, as you were making sure there weren't any TVs or mirrors in the room. Not just for your own safety, but also for Adam's sanity, too.

He couldn't stand seeing his reflection in anything; even the van's rearview mirror made him freak out when he accidentally looked at it, screeching uncontrollably and screwing up the radio's signal until you finally figured out what was wrong and covered it up.

That's the first and only time you nearly crashed the van, thank goodness.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until you found this rundown motel somewhere on the outskirts of Werksha County, deciding it's the safest place to lay low until you both figured out what to do next.

Of all things, you never expected one of your closest friends to be an Alternate--not one who recently killed him and stole his identity, but one who didn't even know what he was until this very night.

Apparently, the "Intruder" revealed that he had replaced his real counterpart at only 4 years old, his mom having been dead this entire time...and deciding that now was the time for him to 'awaken".

Though given how he was crying, screaming, and begging for death when you and Thatcher found him, it's obvious he didn't take that news very well and didn't want to be anything like them.

He lived as a human for so long..he was convinced that he is one and refused to accept his reality.

You couldn't bring yourself to hate him for something he had no control over, nor were you going to ever treat him like one of those monsters.

They were heartless and evil...and while Adam himself acted that way for the past several weeks, pushing away everyone who cared about him, you realized he regretted it deeply. Surely Alternates don't feel things like that.

Eventually you'll have to tell Sarah and Evelin the truth, and also find out where BPS goes from here.

But none of that was important right now.

Taking care of him was.

"Alright. Everything looks good...shit, even the beds look pretty decent. I'm surprised."

Blinking, Adam looked to see you plop down onto one of the beds, laying on your back. "You gotta come over here, man. I promise it's comfier than it looks."

After a bit of silence, you heard some shuffling noises and glanced at him as he limped over to the other bed. He sat down and shrugged off your BPS jacket, using it like a blanket before he curled up on the mattress, resting his head on the pillow and tucking his lanky limbs close to his chest.

In a way, he almost acted like a cat...which was kinda cute.

"Yeah I'm pretty tired, too. You need anything, Adam?" You asked.

All you got was a shake of his head in response, his eyes already closed.

'Right..we both need some sleep. I know he definitely does. We'll figure out some game plan in the morning, then..' You took off your shoes, leaving them on the floor before getting under the sheets and turning off the lamp light.

"Well..goodnight."

He mumbled something, but you assumed was also "goodnight" and eventually fell fast asleep..

Until your short-lived dream turned into a nightmare.

You found yourself standing alone in a dark void, hearing the muffled screams of your friend that sounded so close...and yet so far away. But no matter what, you couldn't find him anywhere, even as you ran and called out his name.

If anything, it felt like you were moving even further away.

Then you were halted by a figure descending from the sky--being that same mysterious angel statue you saw back in the van, except its face was covered by a black square. Its movements, however, were quite lively as it spoke to you in the same voice that claimed itself to be your "intuition".

It whispered that you could not save the "Mandela Prophet" from his destiny, even though what he did tonight was unexpected--implying that he was supposed to harm you.

But it vowed that his "disguise" will eventually shed itself..and when it does you won't be safe anymore.

You refused to believe it, instead asking what it wanted from you.

Its response?

"I want you to open your eyes"

Suddenly you woke up, heart pounding a mile a minute as you looked around the dark motel room. It took a moment to realize you were out of that horrible dream.

But then you ceased all movements as you noticed the time on the alarm clock displayed 3:33 AM in red neon....before seeing a skeletal figure sitting on the edge of your bed, uncomfortably close.

It stared down at you with white pupils rolling around in its eyes, its mouth hung open--stretching to biologically impossible proportions as it spoke in whispers you couldn't decipher, despite its mouth not moving at all.

"A-Adam? That you?"

You bravely turned on the lamp light, rubbing your eyes to see that it was indeed your friend watching over you. His mouth was back in its normal place...although you did see it wide open for a split second after light filled the room before he closed it immediately.

It did give you a mini heart attack, forgetting he was capable of something like that, though you tried acting like you never saw it at all.

"S-Sorry..I didn't mean to wake you up." He apologized, clearing his throat. "I...couldn't sleep. Fuck, how can I?"

"It's alright. I don't think I can either." Sighing, you sat up and smiled reassuringly at him. "We've been through a lot of shit tonight, and-"

"You need to kill me."

Your smile faded as you stared at him, confused when he shoved one of his pillows against your torso. It had stuffing torn out of it, the case covered in blood and saliva.

"What the--?!" You blinked, looking down in horror. "Adam, is this your bl-?!!"

"I tried it and it didn't fucking work...s-so I need you to do it for me. Please." He begged. "I've tried everything else!!"

'Is he...asking me to smother him..? Was he...actually screaming earlier?' Your heart sunk into your stomach at the realization he tried killing himself while you were sleeping, but you shook your head.

"Adam we're not having this conversation again. I can't do that to you, okay? It's not going to work, and even if it did...I just...I can't. If you think I'm okay with straight-up murdering you-"

"Just do it, [y/n]...I-I don't care how long it takes. I don't want to be your burden anymore. I just...I want this to END!!!" He panicked, growing frustrated that you weren't taking the pillow as he now kneeled in front of you, hands trembling. "I'm one of those sick fucks that took your family away! So get revenge! KILL ME!!!"

"But you're not." Your gaze softened, resting your hands over his own. "You didn't kill them. You're my friend-"

"How can you see THIS as a friend-d-d?!!" He wailed, tearing himself away from you as coarse static began to overlay his voice. "This "friend" hurt so many people...Jonah...a-and Evelin...and it's going to hurt you too if you don't stop me!! PLEASE JUST FUCKING END MY SUFFERING-G-G!!!

You desperately tried to calm him down, afraid that someone in the neighboring rooms would hear all of his screaming and howling.

But he didn't stop.

"Shhh! Adam-! Adam, please just-!!"

"STOP IT!! DON'T CALL ME THAT!!! THAT'S NOT MY NAME!! IT WAS NEVER MY NAME!! I lied to you...I DECIEVED you, and you were too stupid to realize it.."

"...h-huh?" You froze, bewildered as his face suddenly became devoid of all emotion, staring dead at your confused expression.

"You stopped that cop from putting a bullet in my head." Tears began streaming down his bony cheeks, his jaw going slack as he spoke. "You're so selfish. You're a coward. Don't you see how horrible you are..keeping me around?! You think I can be saved?! You're only making me SUFFER, [y/n], and it's all your fault!"

You were shocked at the things he was saying to you, wondering if the last of his humanity had finally slipped away...and this is all that remained now.

"A-Adam, please stop-"

"PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!" He began to mimic your voice to near-perfection, hearing hysterical laughter coming from him despite his expression not matching it at all.

You could tell from his eyes alone that he wasn't in total control over himself. He wasn't doing this on purpose.

It was those Alternate instincts trying to override him, attempting to submit you to the symptoms of M.A.D.

Begging him to be quiet was no longer working. You had to try something else...something that would catch him off-guard.

And you finally figured it out.

Taking the pillow, you tossed it aside before gently pulling Adam into your arms, once again being careful not to crush any of his fragile bones. Almost immediately his laughter stopped, his whole body seizing up.

Without the jacket you've previously given him, you could feel how extremely skinny he was, his vertebrae almost poking through his flesh. But it didn't stop you from wrapping your arm around his back, petting his hair soothingly with your other hand.

"...what are you doing-g?" He asked, his voice muffled by your shoulder. "Don't touch me! I-I'm...I will....!"

"You'll what?"

"......."

From the way his entire form gradually went slack in your arms, you realized he was (somewhat) back to his old self, and smiled. "See? You're not hurting me now, and you didn't before. I still trust you, Adam."

He didn't do anything for a few long moments, but just when you were about to let him go, he suddenly hugged you back and fully buried his face into your shoulder, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to...! I'm sorry, I'm sorry..!!"

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean any of it." You consoled, allowing him to pull you closer to him. As much as he tried, he could barely crush you..considering he had little strength left. "It's okay, we're both okay."

He just shook his head, still devastated that he tried giving you M.A.D and couldn't stop himself. "Th-This is why I wanted you to leave me..b-before I say stupid shit like that and hurt you...."

"C'mon, you've said a lot of "stupid shit" over the years. It's gonna take more than that to drive me away." As you rubbed his bare back, you could feel him nuzzling into your shirt more, desperate for warmth that his own body no longer provided him.

"I-It's so cold. I'm scared, [y/n]...I'm scared of myself." He choked. "None of this feels...real."

"I know. I...can't even imagine what's been going through your head tonight. But you're still my friend, and nothing's gonna change that. Not even this, alright?"

After a few moments of silence he nodded, sniffling. "I'm sorry for putting all of this on you. But....if you have to kill me-"

"Adam."

"R-Right, right...I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again.."

"....we'll figure out something else, okay? And I'll be here for you. Just like always."

Although Adam didn't verbally respond to that, he let go of you and laid down beside you, indicating he wanted to at least attempt to sleep. You were surprised that he didn't just return to his own bed, but you weren't going to be a dick and kick him off.

So you gave him most of the sheets and blankets, knowing he needed them far more than you did. He only mumbled a small "thank you" before turning his back to you, now tucked under the blanket.

You got under the covers as well, switching off the light again, but you heard him still crying softly into the pillow and groaning in pain, clearly trying to hide it from you.

It hurts that you couldn't take away his pain.

The one thing you could do, however, was comfort him..now knowing he wasn't going to push you away like he did before. So you gently put your arm around him, closing some of the space between you two while not being too constricting.

And while he didn't stop crying right away, he eventually quieted down and fell asleep with one less worry on his mind.

You hoped it wasn't too weird--just something to reassure him that you're gonna be right here when he awakened.

It did the trick.

You weren't going to leave him.

Not anytime soon.

[bluereo]

Hello! I’m a big fan of your “Megatronus - The Fallen AU”. There’s not a lot of work of Orion Pax/Optimus Prime being the 13TH Prime reincarnation; so I’m happy to read your work about it! Any way about the prompts, can you do #1 with Megatronus Prime meeting/talking to Megatron about Optimus? Megatronus being all Big Brother Mode and willing to end Megatron for what him done to his brother? Thank you and good luck on your finals!

I'm more then happy that you like my au! I'm aware that this took me some time and it's rather short but I hope you will enjoy it :)

Ps. If you see some spelling mistakes pls correct me. I don't have beta reader

#Prompt 1 - Thouch him and you are dead.

It's been barely a week since Optimus returned from Cybertron with his older brother. Sudden arrival of demigod made everyone feel a little unease. Especially Lord Megatron felt strange even watching interactions between Fallen and His Prime. The Fallen was personification of pride and had everything that a warrior needed, his steps were loud, his eyes always observed everyone around him.

It wasn't unexpected that Megatron felt cold creeping though his limbs when Second Prime approached him late at night. They were on deck of Nemesis, silence interrupted only by thunders from stormy clouds and near soundless vents of both mechs.

- I hope that I'm not interrupting in anything important, Name thief. - Megatronus nearly purred at the and. Demigod loved to underline that they share this cursed name.

- Of course not, Fallen. To what do I owe this pleasure of your company tonight . I thought that you prefer to spend time near autobots instead of me or my crew. - Megatron choose to let himself look at horizon. There was no point of meeting gaze of the other.

- There is an issue I need to discuss with you. Still, this... exchange of information should stay only between us. - Megatron felt that demigod was pearcing his helm with his gaze. However, he have done nothing to change that for now.

- Then talk, I'm all audioreceptors. What is soo important that you choose to came here in person.

Sudenly there were steps. The Fallen stood right next to him. Finally their gazes crossed and Megatron could only think of how dangerous this mech was.

- I am aware of your... relationship with my brother. I have been watching you since two of you made your vows under the black sky and shining moons of our home planet.

- It's been milenia ago. Get to the point - the amount of strange calmness around fallen had the exact oposite reaction from megatron. Ex-gladiator could feel his fight protocols come to life, cannon geting slightly warmer and vision becoming sharper. He was ready to defence if the demigod decided to strike.

- Now you are on a good way to achieve peace between yourselves and your people. But I need to warn you. - Sudennly Megatronus grabbed Megatron by shoulder and made him turn himself fully to look in the optics of demigod from very close.

- You don't deserve to even be in the same room as Orion. He is one of the kindest sparks even between gods and demigods. And you have caused him more pain than you could ever imagine. And if I see your claws on him once again. There is nothing that will stop me from draging your spark, body and mind stright to the pit where you belong. Thouch him again and you are dead. I will make sure that will be very painful death... - Megatron was completly paralyzed. Especially when claws of demigod slowly made their way to lay on his chest plate not so far from where his spark was.

Megatron couldn't remember when he felt so scared in his entire life. Looking in the optics of being capable to fight with God's... He felt smaller then ever before.

Eventually Megatronus stepped back from ex gladiator and smiled like nothing ever happened.

- Well, I hope my massage was clear enough for you to understand. I will leave you to think about it - and with those words Fallen made his way of the deck.

Megatron still felt shivers going down his spine. He understood massage clear enough to be cautious. But there is no one and nothing that will separate him from his bonded.

[lichfucker]

BRAIN DAMAGE IN D MINOR?

lmaoooooo "brain damage in d minor" is a placeholder title and I live in fear every day that it's going to stick. the only other thing I call it in my own notes is "music and lyrics au" so unless something better appears I'm afraid brain damage in d minor will end up the actual title

a million years ago the sunder server watched music and lyrics (2007) for movie night, which is my favorite rom-com of all time, and I. could not stop thinking about how well the conceit works as a silverflint au. because I am the one with brain damage (in d minor)

it's likely the only bs modern au I'll ever write bc in general I find the canon time period far more compelling, but I digress. flint is a washed-up has-been-- he was in a boyband with thomas and peter ashe in the early '00s but it's been twenty years and his career is dead. suddenly he gets a call from gates, his manager, saying, "charles vane just left his band to get out of a contract with guthrie records and he wants to kick off his new solo venture by singing a duet with you, so you need to write a new song. okay bye"

the problem is that flint is a terrible lyricist. sure he could come up with a pretty metaphor, but he can't write things that are Relatable, and pop music is all about being Vague and Relatable. help, of course, comes from the least likely of places: john silver, a guy flint hires to water his plants, just so happens to be an excellent songwriter.

yes, this is extremely contrived. yes, it is following the plot of the movie to a tee (except, y'know, set in 2023 instead of in 2007).

a meet-cute for your perusal:

The buzzer rings, piercing through the rhythmic discordant chime of Flint repeatedly bashing his head onto the keys of the piano. Great. That’ll be Idelle in to water the plants, and he can either stay in the living room composing Brain Damage in D Minor while she does, or he can spare himself the humiliation and retreat into the privacy of his bedroom. Perhaps he’ll run a bath and drown himself in the lavish tub.

A sigh hauls itself out of Flint’s chest with all the effort of the tow truck that time in ’04 when the tour bus got impounded, and it takes similar heft for him to stand up from the piano bench and answer the door.

Flint registers long black hair before anything else, and his skull is so thick with cement that he nearly turns heel and stalks off to his room without so much as a grunt in hello—but he stops.

“You’re not Idelle,” Flint says.

A very astute observation: the person in the doorway has bluer eyes, tanner skin, and a significantly fuller beard.

The man’s gleaming smile falters. “No,” he says. “Sorry, did she not text you? I’m taking over for a few weeks while she’s away. Can I come in, or are all your plants out in the hall?”

Flint blinks. Considering the man looks like he hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in his entire life, Flint hadn’t expected his voice to be so… smooth. Nor so English, not in Manhattan. Before Flint lets this stranger into his (admittedly, very thieve-able) apartment, though, he looks through his phone and—oh. Idelle had texted. Three times over the last two weeks. He’d even given her a thumbs-up emoji. Well, all right, then. He steps aside to let the man through.

“Thanks,” the man says, his bright smile back and full of teeth. “I’m John, by the way. John Silver.”

“James McGraw.”

Silver drops his messenger bag on the coffee table beside the chaise, looking around with cataloguing eyes at the veritable garden lined up along the floor-to-ceiling windows, the crystalline chandelier hanging over the dining table, the glossy baby grand on the shag carpet, the unmasked luxury in which Flint lives. “Watering can?” he asks.

“Under the sink,” Flint says, pointing him toward the kitchen. He waits a few beats and then follows, trying to keep a wary eye on Silver while appearing casual rather than paranoid. He leans coolly against the kitchen island just as Silver finishes filling the watering can. “So, Joe—”

“John,” he says, not unkindly. “Most of my friends just call me Silver, but I’d rather you call me John. No offense. Less personal, you know?”

“Using your given name is less personal than your surname?”

He gives Flint a pointed look. “I can be one of eight hundred Johns you’ve ever met, or I can be one of half a dozen Silvers, if even that many. Maybe we’ll be friends someday and you can call me whatever you like, but for now I’ll take John, thanks.”

Flint just barely suppresses a grin. “Fair enough,” he says. “Where are you from?”

Silver—John hesitates, and then he says, “London. And you?”

“Cornwall.”

“Really? You don’t sound it.”

“I trained myself out of it, a long time ago.” Flint watches John tend to the orchid on the counter, careful not to over-water it; he’s gentle and methodical with it, which isn’t what Flint had expected. He’s not sure what he expected, in truth. “So,” Flint says, “you’re a friend of Idelle’s? Where is she, anyway?”

The question earns him an indignant snort. “Idelle is in the Bahamas getting married, and I,” John says, crossing the living room to the ficus by the window, “got the great honor of not being fucking invited. She tried telling me it’s because they wanted to keep the guest list small, but I know that’s a damned lie. She invited Muldoon, of all fucking people. Logan I understand, because he and Charlotte are attached at the fucking hip, but Muldoon?” John scoffs. “No, it’s because Augie—her husband—never liked me, not that I have any idea why. Truth be told, I think Idelle herself only tolerates me because she’s close with my sister, and she knows not to say a bad word about me to Max if she intends to say any words for the rest of her life.”

He keeps talking as he progresses down the row of plants. “I told Max to bring me as her plus-one just to piss them all off, you know, but she’d already committed to taking her girlfriend, and, honestly, that’s comeuppance enough. I am far more fun at weddings than Anne is. Luckily for you, I’m also a far better plant-sitter, so—Fuck!”

John hisses in pain and turns around to face Flint, sucking on the pad of his thumb. “Fucking cactus,” he mumbles around the thumb in his mouth. The two of them stand there, twenty feet apart, for an odd moment, the air thick with… something. John narrows his startlingly blue eyes, scrutinizing Flint. Flint hasn’t a clue what he might be looking for. His lips work at his thumb all the while.

And then John’s thumb leaves his mouth with an obscene smack, the sound so loud in the dense silence that had befallen them, and he says, “You look really familiar. Are you famous or something?”

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

The Maystone mangler pt1

Don't forget to check out @the-illiterate-pirate 's version of the same scenario 'Twisted Nerve'

Also there is a prolouge to this fic, not necessary but will give you a little more context.

It had been a month since you had moved to Maystone. You'd managed to settle in and get to know the town folk. It was a small yet communal one, everyone seemed to know each other. Sometimes you'd even see the mayor, Mr Valentine, or his wife in the grocery store.

From what you had learned Valentine had been a hero for the town, six years ago it was on the verge of being a ghost town but when Valentine returned after his time in the Vietnam War he'd established numerous projects to help the local economy. Sure the town was still quite small but now everyone had had access to many of the facilities and necessities to live comfortably. Even now he was striving for more as he made his way up to state politics.

As you drove to work you switched station news before settling on the local news.

'The weather will be a lovely 68°f today with some clouds coming through, best to get your washing out today as the next few days will have moderate rain' Amelia the weather reporter said.

'Back to you Marshall' she sighed off back to the main presenter.

'Thank you, Amelia. We just got news about the body found in the park this morning' He said catching your interest.

"We've been told by police that the victim, James Ronal, age 34, was found dead this morning at 6:47 this morning. The state of his body was described as barely recognizable. Later we have an interview slated with Sheriff Mountain Tim' they explained. You were horrified as thoughts of what might have happened flooded your mind. What could have led to such a horrible thing to happen.

You drove into to staff parking and parked your car. You turned off your car and grabbed your briefcase before entering.

You exchanged some brief hellos with your coworkers as you made your way to your desk. As you unpacked your stuff you overheard a conversation two of your co-workers, Jill and Mary were having.

"You heard the news about James?"

"Yes I did, it's horrible from what I heard his chest had been cut open and his head was nearly chopped right off"

"Oh goodness, it sounds like the Maystone mangler is back"

Maystone mangler, clearly this wasn't known. They had a name and everything. You wanted to join the conversation and learn more but you looked at the time, it was almost 9 o clock.

You set up the last of your things before the doors opened. It didn't take long before clients came in. You spotted Blackmore in the line and waved him over. You had gotten fairly familiar with him, visiting his shop at least once a week.

"Good morning Blackmore" you greeted him. He perked up and clumsily walked over with a bag in hand. He was wearing a brownish-grey turtle neck sweater and a pair of nice black pants. He was dressed quite nicely, a far cry from what he wore in the butcher shop.

"Ah… good morning" he stuttered before he sat down in front of you.

"I just came to put some money in, usually my mother covers it but she's been under the weather so I have to do it" he explained.

"I don't know if I can do that, I can't make transactions in another name" you explained.

"We have a shared account" he replied, you could tell he was obviously nervous about being at the bank.

"Oh sorry, in that case, it should be fine, I just need some ID" you explained. He grabbed out a wallet from the bag and grabbed out his ID and placed it on the desk.

Blackmore Lovall

Date of birth 11/19/1956

"Oh I didn't realize your mother was Mauve, you two look so alike," you said as looked at his ID before standing up.

"I'll go grab the file and then we can start the deposit" you explained as you made your way to the file room but stopped to ask him questions.

"Do you want a coffee?"

"Um… do you have tea, I'm not a fan of coffee" he replied.

"Sure, do you have it with milk, and how much sugar?" You said.

"Milk and one sugar please" he replied before you left.

Luckily the kettle had already been boiled so you grabbed a cup and a tea bag and grabbed the sugar tin. You poured his up and left it to seep before turning your attention to the file cabinet. You went to the draw labeled 'L' and looked through to find the Lovall file and put it on top of the cabinet before you finished making his tea.

You came back shortly later and gave him his tea and placed the file on the desk.

"Thank you so much" he coyly thanked before taking a sip. You sat down and opened the file. Blackmore grabbed out several small clear bags with notes, coins, and checks and placed them on the desk.

"Could I ask you a question… about what happened this morning?" you said.

"About James?" He asked.

"Yes, I overheard some of my coworkers talking about what happened, and they mentioned it sounding like the Maystone mangler. Can you tell me anything about that?" You asked and he nodded in response before taking another sip.

"The Maystone mangler is the name given to a local serial in this town. The murders started around five years ago and the police still haven't found the killer" he explained.

"How do they know it's the same person?" You asked.

"Well it's in the name, they're known for mangling and dismembering their victims…The murders aren't frequent so most of us aren't too worried, I'd just suggest not being out late by yourself and locking the doors at night" he continued.

You felt a shiver go down your spine, even just hearing the news mention a brutal crime in another state made you anxious but to know a murderer was in the town was very concerning.

You quickly snapped yourself out of your thoughts and began to open the bags and grab each bundle of notes. They were already organized so you took the rubber band off and put them into the note counter and turned it on.

"So how was your weekend?" Blackmore asked, trying to make small talk.

"It wasn't much, I just cleaned around the house a bit. Pruned the roses and realized I didn’t have a vase anymore to put them in, so I'm going to the antique store after work" you told him. Grabbing the notes out and jotting down the amount on a blank piece of paper before grabbing the next bundle to do the same.

"I'm sure you'll find a nice vase but Magenta can be a bit… greedy, but as long as you know how to bargain right he'll cave into a lower price" Blackmore warned. You nodded in response as you continued to count the notes. You two continued to make small talk before Blackmore asked another question.

"Did you hear about the communal barbecue that Mr Steel's running this year?" He asked.

"No I haven't" you replied.

"Oh well it's been talked about for some time, usually after church" he explained.

"I'm sure Mr Steel will tell you himself but everyone in town is invited, just have to bring something to share" he continued.

"What would I bring?" You asked.

"Well almost everyone brings sides… my mom and I supply all the meat and Mr and Mrs Valentine bring the drinks… perhaps a dessert, my mom always brings trifle, and a few cupcakes are brought in but never anything else" he suggested.

"Do you think a cheesecake would be good?" You questioned. His eyes lit up hearing your suggestion.

"Yes, cheesecake would be great, it's one of my favorite desserts" he replied as a small smile appeared on his face.

🍂🍂🍂

You finished work at five o'clock and got into your car and drove down to the antique store. You parked your car in the parking bay on the side of the road and made your way inside. You opened the door and a bell rang.

"The store's only open for twenty-five minutes" a nasally voice echoed in the shop.

"I'm just here to find a vase," you said as you began to look around. The place was cluttered with little room to move through between the furniture and smelt of dust and old fragrance.

"At the back, on the shelves," the voice told you.

"Thank you" you awkwardly thanked as you shuffled around, trying not to knock anything over as you made your way to the back. There you saw pitchers and vases along with piles of crockery.

"How long since you moved in?" He asked.

"A month now," you told him as you admired a few green bottles.

"That's a valuable piece of Vaseline glass from the 1920s, they don't make much uranium glassware nowadays," he told you. You jumped a little and quickly put it back down before looking to the side to see who you assumed was Magenta. He was a mess from head to toe. Wild hair and unkempt clothes.

"There's no need to worry about radiation poisoning, I doubt it has any more radiation than anything else here" he explained yet he still did not make you feel safe near it. Then your eyes landed on a ceramic pitcher with a simple floral design.

"I'll take this," you told him.

"Nice choice, I believe that one was handmade," he told you.

"That'll be $12," he told you and your eyes widened. Yep, Blackmore was right, he was trying to scam you.

"Actually I think I'll pass, it seems a bit pricey" you replied.

"I can assure you the price is fair," he said.

"Hmmm… I'm not sure, I have an aunt who makes pottery far cheaper" you bluffed.

"How about $10?" He asked

"Still too pricey for me, I'll buy it for $8 and not a cent more," you told him.

"Fine" he sighed in defeat before taking the pitcher out of your hand and taking it to the counter. You followed close behind as you grabbed a few notes. You handed the money and he took it greedily before grabbing some newspaper and wrapping the pitcher in it. On the paper you could clearly see the title 'Maystone Mangler strikes again: two found dead'

"So what's up with this Maystone Mangler?" You asked him.

"You really want to know?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I think it's important to know what's happening here. After all, I live here now” you replied.

“Roughly 5 years ago A man in town named Sam was murdered, it wasn't a simple murder by any means… he was chopped into pieces and dumped into the nearby river. That's the first murder by whom the news has dubbed the Maystone mangler” he told you.

“The weapon was never found but the autopsies suggest that the weapon was a meat cleaver, of course, the first suspects were the Lovall's however they were quickly dismissed. Mauve is far too frail to do something like that and not break a bone. Frederik was a nice guy, he was in my high school English class… He had been missing for a few months before the murder. Some think he took the family car and left to pursue something more while others think foul play was involved” he continued explaining.

“Then there's Blackmore… poor kid got put through the wringer in school from what I heard but he wouldn't even hurt a fly. Even the thought of butchering made him pale in the face when he had to pick it up. The first few weeks he looked like he'd faint at any moment. He's not got a single bit of violence in him” he told you before handing you the pitcher.

“Thank you Magenta” you thanked him before making your leave

[barbex]

Hello! Number 13 for Fenders from the angst/fluff prompt list for DADWC please? Love your writing!

Thank you, darling! Prompt 13 is: “I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.” My goodness, that's just perfect for a little fenders ficlet for tonight's @dadrunkwriting

---

"Where is Anders?" Hawke's question sounds innocent enough, but it hits like an arrow in Fenris' neck. He lost sight of him. How could that happen? How did he forget to check on Anders, when the mage keeps occupying his thoughts nearly every waking minute?

"I will look for him." Not waiting for Hawke to answer or asking questions, Fenris stalks through the battlefield of dead slavers they hunted out here at the Wounded Coast. He counts eleven dead men and women as he steps around pools of blood in the warm sand. Avoiding the aftermath of battle is a habit of his, unlike Isabela and Hawke, who search the dead bodies for loot with excited exclamations. It's not an activity he ever liked to join in. Not after being the one who killed them.

Hasty tracks lead away from the site, they must have missed one or two slavers in the chaos. One set of the tracks is deeper in the sand, as if the person was very heavy. Possibly carrying someone. Fenris hurries his steps.

It only takes him a few minutes to see the slavers, two of them. One carries a body over his shoulders and Fenris suppresses a snarl when he recognises the familiar blond hair. He doesn't have his coat. Fenris can just imagine how sad Anders will be over the loss of that monstrosity and it's enough to make him even more angry.

He follows the slavers at a distance, waiting for an opportunity to attack without endangering Anders in his unconscious state. That also worries him. Anders, unconscious, despite being such a powerful mage. 

Worried. About the mage. 

A lot has changed between them in these past few weeks. When at first he hated his very existence, then began to accept his healing magic, and at last somewhat understood his fight for freedom, he now cares for the mage more than he likes to admit. 

Yes. He worries. He worries a lot about the mage now.

If the others knew, they would surely laugh at him. 

Ahead of him, the slavers have stopped, and put Anders on the ground. Anders may be skinny, much too skinny actually, but he is tall. The man who carried him rolls his shoulder with a pained expression. That expression never leaves his face. The other slaver stares at his dead partner, too slow to even raise his sword against Fenris' controlled rage as he cleaves off his head.

He sheathes his sword and rushes over to Anders. He untangles his body, stretching out his legs, and folds his hands over his stomach. Sitting down in the warm sand, he lays Anders' head in his lap, brushing his hair out of his face. Anders is breathing calmly, he looks like he's sleeping. They must have given him some sort of drug. There is nothing he can do but wait.

After what feels like half a lifetime, but is probably only half an hour, Anders stirs. At first, his fingers twitch, then his eyes, and then he looks at Fenris with wide eyes. "What?"

"You are safe."

Casting his eyes about Anders sees the dead slavers. "You killed them?"

"Yes." 

"You saved me."

Fenris nods. 

Anders just stares at him. 

"You don't believe me?" Fenris strokes over Anders' cheek. "I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me."

"But..." Anders sits up, brushing over his shirt. "But why?"

Fenris takes Anders' hand, stopping him from getting up, from running away from him. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Yes, I do. You are you and I'm just me."

It hurts hearing Anders think so low of himself. Fenris pulls him back, turning his face towards himself. "I distinctly remember that you kissed me."

A beautiful smile spreads on Anders' face. "I remember you kissed me." His lips brush over Fenris'. 

"You flirted with me," Fenris protests, letting his lips catch on Anders'.

"As if you didn't," Anders says, moving closer.

"I knew it!" Isabela comes through the bushes with a triumphant fist bump. 

Anders flinches away, but Fenris holds him back, threading his gauntleted fingers into the back of Anders' neck and kisses him. Ignoring Isabela's enthusiastic comments to Hawke, he keeps kissing him until they both run out of air.

With a smile, Anders stares at him. "You really mean that."

"I usually do, but what are you talking about now?"

"That I'm safe with you."

Fenris slides his thumb over Anders' lips. "Yes, I mean that."

Anders' smile is beautiful. Fenris will not let him out of his sight again.

[popculturebuffet]

Pride Month: The Pride Season 1 Review: Their Here, There Queer, Get Used To It (Comission for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people. It's pride month and once again i'm late to the party as things have been hectic, in this case catching up on stuff and then just having my body and mood crash entirely for a week. But we're back and once again Kev has some rainbow flavored treats he wants me to hand out. Also some stuff to review.

This time we're kicking things off with a look at 2011 comic The Pride, starting with it's first mini series later renamed The Pride Season 1 after coming to comixology.

The Pride comes from gay comic writer and gay rights advocate Joe Glass. Glass has written a ton of queer comics i'm curious to check out, with the pride being one of his first and most notable works and one that he still dives into ocasionally, writing a sequel for Comixology in 2017, a spinoff series the Pride Adventures, with a summer special and new mini series, Agenda Dysphoria, coming this year.

The Pride follows it's universe's first, and possibly comics first all queer superhero team after openly queer superhero Fabman feels the community isn't getting nearly enough representation on the bigger team, with this universe's justice league stand in being outright homophobic at best. So he gathers all the queer superheroes he knows and together they fight for truth, justice and acceptance, while dealing with a mad preacher who plans to turn people with the superhero gene into his servants to take over the world, as you do and be a homophobic jackass, as the church often do.

The Pride seemed to be a modest success, and is something I was curious to check out: I read the first issue years ago when season 2 was announced.. and wasn't impressed, but when Kev pitched it I figured it'd be a neat thing to look at. See if I was wrong about the book and it was better than I expected or if it was just meh. So join me under the cut for pride as their here, their queer, and they've got a bear, their the pride.

The pride is drawn by Gavin Mitchell, who does a decent job, having a cartoony style with sketchy lines I feel fits the book's old school tone with modern values approach well. The weird thing is.. Mitchell only draws HALF the series, drawing thesee first two issuea nd then issue 5, so the series does suffer a bit from the art being consitant, some is good, some is not, so keep that in mind as you see panels.

We open to a news report as some jerky reporters report on various other superheroes, including Crabman and Lobster boy, a mustached crabman.

And his young soon to be dead ward. I... badly want a spinoff with this guy I mean look at him

He's a crab man with a mustache, a human hand for some reason, and a sucession of lobster boys who died horribly but don't seem to be his fault. I also like how Fabman smiles at this. Like he just loves how rediculous the world of superheroics is. But seriously if a crab dealing with severe losses on a regular basis who dresses like Freddy Mercury isn't a spinoff pitch you want to hear, I don't know what I can possibly offer you as you clearly lost lost the abliity to feel joy long ago. Now if your against it because he MIGHT have murdered a teenager.. fair point. I don't think he did on purpose justding by his OH CRAP face, but still fair.

Fabman's in his civies.. kinda dealing with the fact the hosts of the newscast casually throw out homophobic shit about him rescuing "a hunk" and outright use the term trick. You know Kent Brockman may sell out to our ant overlords but he never pulled that shit.

This unease from the broadcast compounds when we cut to some kids playing with their toys.. and one brings out a fabman figure. The two other kids turn into homophobic shit lords... only for Fabman to show up and scare the crap out of them. They super run away and the kid, Billy talks to his faviorit hero, admitting he didn't choose to be diffrent, and wondering why people suck, hoping one day they can see how great fabman is. Fabman wonders that too.. and the gears turn in his head

We get a one page interlude as we meet our villians, the reverend and basher. The reverend has basher kill a guy for complaning about exploding a little, how dare he before rambling ominously about "Ma plans".

Fabman starts to round up the heroes who will be thwartin "ma plans". We first meet Frost, An english heroine, transwoman and lesbian into punishing "Naughty Boys". She's as cold as her power set, but game for whatever her friend has plan. She was beating up some assholes in an ally who made the mistake of trying to accost her. She's the best.

Next is White Trash, A tatooed white man with super tough skin who runs some gang bangers off a basketball court but has one of the kids he saved used the f slur. I do like this bit, with Fabman saying "it ruins the good feeling every time dosen't it".. that even rescuing someone as a queer person.. can have the person still be homophobic. White Trash brushes it off as while it does indeed suck, he's a kid: Kids can change... and is honored to meet fabman and hear him out.

We next meet my faviorites out of the pride as some homophic assholes are mid hate crime when one of them ups and hits another and we meet Angel, pansexual drag queen with the powers of a confusion field that messes up the brain pans for those nearbye and makes them attack their foes and Bear, hard gay man who can turn into a literal bear. While having a Bear turn into a bear is the most on the nose thing imaginable I can't help but love it for it's sheer audacity and the bear gets fleshed out so much over the series he's hard not to love. The two are close friends and a duo and Angel mentions Fabs offer.

The final initial member of our party is Queen Sapphire, an amazon whose black gay wonder woman, Nubia before she got to be that, and whose stopping an asshole throwing a brick at someone working at planned parenthood and who runs straight into fabman's abs. Lucky asshole. Fabman invites his new friend Sapphire to the meeting.

Th group meet at the gay bar, gay bar, gay bar Fabulosa, Fabman's hq. Fabman gets into it briefly with Angel over not including T in calling this a SLBG meetup.. this was long before non binary and asexual were as known or accepted, something I have heard the sequel corrects and is forgiviable given when this came out. I also like this as it shows queer people can mistakes in their own community. And having seen the massive dumptrucks of biphobia int eh owl house fandom (Though most of us are awesome) over Huntlow.. can confirm.

Speaking of which at least for this arc the team has none which does bother me a bit as there's a B in the term.. but no actually bi members of the team. I do respect Glass not adding one just to have one and going with the characters he had, so it dosen't ruin the book for me, but it is something I hope later mini series course corrects as the team DOES expand in season 2.

Fabman gives his full pitch

And it's sad that most of the speech still holds. The first part.. never really felt like a thing in comics: Sure homophobic jackasses exist and always have, but most queer heroes were taken seriously in universe. The problem was, and still is, that a lot of queer heroes are lower profiled, either due to being introduced later or being firmly established as straight. There's exceptions like Iceman and Wonder Woman, but both came out AFTER this series was published, and even now while there are more queer heroes than ever before, it tends to be a dice roll if any actually get pushed. As Fabman later points out, teams might have a queer member or two, but they generally tend to just hav eone. And when you look at the major super teams right now their pretty bone dry in terms of queer members: The Avengers, as good as the current roster is, has exactly zero queer members. The Justice League when last around had two (Black Canary and Hipolita). The Titans, dc's current main team has zero. I"m not knocking the writers, I get ediotrial has a say, but it gets to the heart of the issue: most of the biggest heroes were throughly established as straight. Jonathan Kent, Superman, is one of the few exceptoins and even then DC has no idea what the fuck to do with him after his initial push wasn't the roaring sucess they hoped for. While Queer Rep, IS way better these days, the lack of visablity is still an issue. For all this mini's issues i'm glad the pride exist for that reason alone: why NOT have an almost entirely queer superteam? one that welcomes the straights sure, but is mostly queer people being who they are and fighting for the world like any other team, while also repping the community. If the big two can't make superman gay, make your own superman who is. Who has all the ideals of the character, but just happens to like guys and wear even tighter fitting pants. Seriously I may not be into fabman but I respect his giant crotch bulge in the panel above. Size isn't evertyhing but it's still fucking impressive.

As for media rep while sexless is slowly being weeded out, he wasn't wrong at the time nad even now having the gay character be a joke machine is still a common device.

At any rate the team soon gets an audition: Twink.. who starts by taking his shirt off

I do love everyone's reaction to him stripping down and worry when he says he dosen't want to ruin his close. He dosen't have a super dong like fabman though, his power is instead.. basically colossus. This is Twink, a younger member.

And now as Fabman goes to recurit the team's final member with everyone on board, let's take a moment to adress the elephant in the room. Some of the cast falls into typical LBGTQS+ niches to the point it COULD feel sterotypical. I mean fabman runs a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar, and is camp as hell, and well.. do I really have to outline where guys named the Bear and the Twink fit into the gay community. And that's just what I do know as while being bi, I don't know how say Angel reads to a drag audience or Frost to a trans one.

From my limited perspective though it mostly works: The most overt refrences.. are coming from a gay man himself and feel firmly tounge in cheek, while the characters themselves are well fleshed out, something I missed on first read as I only made it one issue. As the series goes on they get depth to them that really helps them stand out.

With that they have a team.. but they need one last member. Naturally it's down to Fabman to go to a seedy bar to recurit him. Which may be an uphill battle as someone else in the community already tried.

Yeah our final member wolf.. is wolverine combined with batman but gay. Granted Marvel would have a gay wolverine soon after this, but props to Glass he did it first and Logan does have a lot of hairy gay man energy in him, so it makes sense. He has logan's gruff nature, love of bars and denim off duty, and batman's millions, detective skills and lack of powers. I love their back and forth: The two feel like old pals which is something hard to pull off sometimes in fiction, to make it feel that lived in without sounding force but the two trade barbs, Fabs treis to drink whisky and spits it out and eventually a barfight happens as a homophobic asshole makes a deal of it. Twink steps in to help and Fabs reveals WHY he needs Wolf for the team: Training. The team is good.. but haven't trained as a team and twink in paticular, while good for a rookie with his self training, hasn't had proper training yet. Wolf decides what the hell and our team is complete and so's issue 1.

We then get a few origin storys, something sprinkled thorughout the first few issues: First up is white trash, a kid in a poor community whose dad abused him, heavily implied to be because he was gay, and who eventually had enough, kicked the man's homophobic ass and became a force for good in his community. Then we have Wolf, who in a flashback is being considered by the justice division. Wolf is buisnessman thomas everett, who inherted a company when his parents died in a carcrash and had already been training to be a vigilinate. His massive success gets him the spot.. and we'll find out why he lost it later.

Next issue opens with Wolf in their danger room thing, having just cleaned up and showed off for a very impressed rest of the team. Fabman reveals he didn't just get wolf as a trainer: Wolf will be co-leader: while Fabs is the groups overall head, Wolf will be in charge in the field and of training the team.

Twink is super smitten by wolf and a big fan, having seen him in the justice division and wondering why he quit. As I alluded to earlier though.. he didn't. The bastards fired him and he's not ashamed to share why: Brian was closted as a hero as first, getting his big call to the majors, but teamed up with Fabs. While the two were never a thing, it was nice to have someone to confide in.

Unfortuantley the tabolids being the dicks they were caugh ton to the tow's friendship and glommed onto it. The Division.. were less than sympathetic, and asked if he was gay. When he said yes.. they dropped him. Mostly Superdude, the lead, who was concerned about their "family friendly image", which can go straight to hell and is also eerily accurate of how hard it was to get queer characters into children's media. Wolf's over it, though he also figures they weren't All on board with this shit, the Venusian in paticular being uncomfortable as their species has no concept of gender. It's nice nod to nonbinary folks and judging from tv tropes, this gets dug into a bit more next series. I do grant this is with the issue that most nonbinary characters tend to be aliens , but it dosen't feel like the cheat it usually is here, just a nod to a community just starting to pop out and the fact they explore what that means next time. I also wouldn't mind if mainstream jonnn was nonbinary, even if he still used masculine pronouns.

The next day the crew heads for their first training session, with Angel making sure Bear's up to this healthwise. We'll find out why soon enough, for now though he flirts a bit with white trash as the trio and frost head up to find Queen Sapphire and Twink duking it out. Turns out this is his plan: Have them spar so they can find out each other's weaknesses. They were also supposed to be here way sooner and he admits he's going to ride them hard. He dosen't use that exact phrasing because of the book we're in, but they need to be ready. They've worked indvidually but they haven't really worked with teams. It's something i've seen in superhero comics before, it was an issue when the x-men roster was cut in half by the mutant massacre and had to restock with people who either only had worked solo or with one othe rperson (Psylocke and Dazzler) or never done proper superhero work let alone team work (Longshot). The team is good, it's why Fabman recurited them but I like that they don't function as a team out of a box and don't have that team experince most superheroes have. In a mainstream comics universe 9/10 heroes have been on a team at some point and thus even if theirs synergy issues, the team can still work effectively enough.

Fabman interrupts as a fire has happened at another gay bar and they need to go save that shit as they really couldn't ask for a better debut. He's a bit TOO jazzed about that part, but still, even untrained, it's a simple search and rescue. Even if a villian is there, they don't need to be in top shape yet.

At the fire Wolf has Angel work crowd control and twink wisely points out he'll be more of a danger as a metal man inside a raging furance, so he's given back door duty. I swear to god these innuendos are not intentional.. they are fun though.

As frost uses her powers to cool things down a bit, they find the culprit holding some surviviors hostage:" Firebomb, a guy with charred skin, cool googles and a love of hate crimes. Seriously the guy throws the F slur around casually. The villians in this book.. are about as subtle in thier bigotry as a captain planet villian is at looting the enviromrment. And their bigotry.

Thankfully for our heroes Frost easily cancels out his powers while his attempt to flee gets interupted by a metal fist to the face. Our heroes first outing, I swear to fucking god they won't stop, is a rousing success. The pride then make their grand debut to the press, with Fabman even expertly fielding the slightly insenstive question of "Are you only going to rescue gay people" Of course not. This is simply about standing out and letting queer heroes shine. Their the pride and their here to stay.. and unforutantely for them the reverned is watching and one of them is now key to his plans.

Secret origins next. Angels is just a fun monologue of her other half explaning who she is and why she does this: Someone has to keep her "babies" in the community safe. Muscle Mary gets a more proper one, a nice twist on Wondy's origin: Like the amazons of theymiscera, they had man visit for the first time in forever but it was less plesant with one killing her mom. Showing ultimate compassion she choose to take them back instead, going herself to find the good in the world and protect it, debuting at a pride parade, hence the muscle mary moniker.

So next issue opens with the news. They even called april o neil the star reporter, who took a break from turtles business to do a man on the street. That also implies some form of ninja turtles exist in this universe. Crossover when IDW?

There's a mix of genuine support, your usual bigoted idiots, and one oprah knockoff questoning if they need yet another super team. The short answer yes, the long answer go fuck yourself. The worst of it though is that one journalist outs that the bear has HIV. Be sure that you see that he has HIV but it's not aids. He dosen't got the AIDS.

Twink is shocked by this and leaves for some air. Bear follows him and the following scene.. is one of my faviorites. While Twink is nervous and dosen't know much about AIDS, worrying it might be an issue in their line of work, Bear assures him it's fine: it's only transmitable fluid to fluid and he takes goo denough care of himself that it transfering by blood, imprable enough given he has super endurance meaning the only person who could bust him open is someone likely invunerable, is VERY unlikely and already is as it'd take a lot to get there. The two are good and with a ton of calls coming in the team answer them.. badly.

Twink gets the worst of it though as his parents called. They hadn't contacted him since they sent him to a camp to cure his powers.

We cut back to the reverend plotting ominously. Yeah this happens.. a LOT over the series and is most of what he does. You'd THINK this would be a way to flesh him out, figure out who this guy is as a villian and why he's sucha homophobic piece of shit. I'm not asking for a tragic backstory, but i'm asking for more characters than "BLER RELIGION GAYS BAD BLEGH". While, especially on diving in closer for this review, the main cast is good, the antagonists are just.. pahtetically one note. The Reverend is just a hateful old man who wants to take over the world. There's nothing to it.

Compare this to X-Men, because that's my baseline and it always will be: This comparison is a little left field as they had their own evil reverend, reverend stryker. Striker was also an evil old man plotting genocide and who hated a minority, in this case mutants, a stand in for real live evangelicals.. but the diffrence is the reverend.. was smart. Instead of Doing his evil work out in the open or relying on a convoluted scheme like this rev, he simply pedaled his ministries on tv. And given this rev has mind control powers, you wonder why he didn't just think to do that in the first place and work on broadcasting it before he got excomjmunicated. Striker is both more intresting and more dangeorus because like far too many bigots, he THINKS he's right, and tries to use respectablity politics. This guy.. is juts one lunatic with magic knowledge of genetics and a hulk literally named basher.

Back with our heroes they have isssues as Angel and Frost are refusing to train figuring their experinced enough, not getting their good ALONE not as a team. Even Bear sides with Wolf on this one. Unfortunately this argument about training.. comes just as someone else wants to argue with the team: The Justice Divsion ar ehere. Turns out the scanner for HQ hadn't been setup which Wolf is rightfully miffed by.

The JD are led by Superdued, the guy at the forfront of the "Kick wolf out for being gay" charge and head of the team. Think worst timeline shaggy rogers but with super powers. They've come to tell the team to stop.

I do like this bit as it riffs on a common trope in comics that frustrates the hell out of me and i'm glad to see it torn apart here with a much less sympathetic team to boot. See DC has a VERY bad habit of having the Justice League act like judgmental asses and try to put a stop to a super team. The Avengers have done this on occasion too, see the New Warriors series from marvel now, but it's very much a league thing. They've done it to Young Justice, the 2003 Version of the Teen Titans, the rebirth Titans, the rebirth Teen Titans, and just casually flipping through the redhood and the outlaws graphic novel from web toon while at barnes and noble, those versions do it to the outlaws. There's likely more I have no idea about. And that's not getting into Bruce's uber dickish habbit of trying to run any vigilante he dosen't like out of gotham. Sometimes the instinct is right like with Savant, most of the time he just dosent like not having control. The League is the big name in the land sure, I can respect that, but their not god. They shouldn't have a right to judge other teams unless said teams are say edgelord harmful asshats like the elitie or outright super villians. Yes the titans and YJ were their sidekicks, but they were also overseen by one of their own in the case of young justice, and experinced heroes in the case of The Teen Titans.

So it's very satisfying to see the pride. stonewall their wish.com counterparts, especially since Superdued talking over everyone.. actually stops the venusian from making actual progress as they make the valid point they might not be ready and may of got them to agree to simply not go out in the field for a bit instead of Earth 3 Spicoli and his bird friend trying to convience them to "stand down" or "Join other teams', both options they clearly don't want nor asked for. It's a nice exercise in false allyship: how most of the division just wants to shut them down.. when if they REALLY cared about them not dying: offer to train them. No reallly. Wolf is doing it and he got his tactics from them, if your that concerned about them dyign and not about them being openly queer if inexperinced as a team on this level, offer team training. They'd still likely refuse.. but the fact they jump right to disbanding instead of helping them be better unmasks how they simply don't want to deal with a superteam that's both this gay and clearly wont' just bend the knee because the big 7 showed up.

So naturally a fight insues. and our team do hold well.. till Angel makes a mistake and uses her powers. Problem is.. Venusean is a telepath so it broadcasts it to EVERYONE and destroys the place. The Justice Assholes leave.. but proved a point: They may not be ready. And wolf agrees.. not that they shoudln't be a team, fuck those guys, but that they weren't ready and Angel now gets why train as a team: because you don't know how your powers might interact in a fight. In good situations you can create a circut and do a super teamwork combo. In bad... it trips up your allies and you. Still Wolf's calling a break and while Fabman is worried this might've been a bad idea, wolf assures him no, he did what had to be done and this willw ork promise.

The two have a longer talk, and Wolf makes a valid point, and a meta point about why this team exists: The big teams often have maybe ONE person of color or two women and the women rarely lead. A team that's diverse stands out. And he's sadly not wrong. Marvel IS having Captain Marvel lead the avengers right now, but previously leaders were Cap, Sam Wilson Cap, and Cap again bitches. Sam is black, so that helps a little, but in general marvel tends to default to cap, while DC defaults to supes. John Kent wasn't even in the league in his time as head superman. These aren't bad characters, I love Supes and Cap a lot, but it's tied to my point earlier: There aren't a ton of a-list, big powerful queer characters in marvel or dc. Plenty of queer characters but for DC"s biggest it's just harely and wondy (And Ivy when she's on the good guys side), with Alan Scott for the JSA and for Marvel it's Teddy, Wiccan and Hercules for the avengers, no one for the fantastic four, and Iceman, Magik, Captain Britan, and Kitty Pryde out of the major x-men (Though to the x-men's credit there is a lot more queer characters than most comics stables) and Magik and Kitty haven't really gotten to explore their bi sides yet, both being confirmed bisexual in a one off joke and a panel that went nowhere repsectively. The PRide has it's faults.. but it is very nice for the core of a superhero universe to be it's queer characters. Hopefully they get more poc, but it's still more gay than most teams have.

Meanwhile Basher kills a bussload of people and kidnaps one. This turns out to be Bear's son with Bear getting the whole we have your kid speil after coming back from a night out with White Trash, who he also brought home. So a bit of a wash all things considered.

Origins again: This time it's , Da Bear, and his origin is one of my faviorites: he was a closted gay man who didn't realize he was gay till he became a bear man one day. In this verse, some people get their powers from the "X-Cel Virus" basically their verison of the x gene mixed with the viral nature of generator rex's nanites. He found out he was gay, got a divorce , and soon got HIV but soldiers on anyway.

We then get Fabmans one I honestly love. He's Stephen Wainwright: he always knew he was gay and not only did his parents catch on before he came out, but they were fully supportive, being nothing but proud of their son. Stephen, like the hero he's modeld after, is a kind hearted soul who only wants to help, helping consule those in his community and offer support. He later opened his bar simply to give his community a place to relax and be safe. It's this kind, open nature and pride in who he is that attracted some aliens, who had been watching him.. which would be creepy if they weren't clearly looking for a pargon of virtue to bestow powers on. Okay i'ts still a little creepy but hey they gave him powers for being a good person who isn't remotely ashamed of who he is and who always wanted to help people. I'm not going to judge too harshly. So like his parents and Stephen himself they coudln't be prouder.

The next issue opens with the team all meeting early in the morning, most not in costume. Angel had a show already so their the only one ready besides the Bear. We also get details on his relationship with his son and heartwarmingly.. it's really good. While The Bear and his ex wife naturally weren't on the best terms after the breakup, she never hid his son from him nor kept him. So while Jacob didn't grow up near his dad, the two did know each other and Bear couldn't be prouder

While the Bear wants to go after basher NOW, Wolf tells him to ease up a bit: not because he dosen't care.. but because it's an obvious trap. Bear naturally can't wait for common sense and rushes off. Thankfully.. Wolf saw this coming and his assuring shoulder pat included a tracer. He's going to have Angel fill him in, try to figure out who the hell basher is and hopefully fast enough to get there before this guy can really hurt bear.

Bear meets basher and Basher is naturally a dick, using the f slur, calling bear "Riddled with diseas" and generally being punchable. He wants bear though, and easily wrecks our poor ursine pal. Luckily our pal has pals of his own and a fight begins. The fight takes up most of the issue and is nicely tense with Basher essentially being a homophobic juggernaught. And while as a character his characterization begins and ends with "I don't like the gays", he is a decent threat at least. OUr heroes try EVERYTHING.. and come up short. They do dent the guy a bit.. but not enough and while Bear's son , Jake, chimes in, Bear's rage after Basher punts him gives the asshole the opening he needs to knock out or pal and run off with him.

Origins time again. This time frost is first as she has an interview with a reporter.. and freezes his research as she's worked hard to hide her past pre transition. She's not ashamed of being trans, and it seems Fabman knows, but her family disowning her fo rbeing who she always was is clearly a sore spot.

Next is twink who writes to his parents. It tells us mostly what the text has: he's a big superhero fanboy who always was one. Getting powers was the happiest day of his life.. but his parents instead feared this and sent him to madman to try an dcure him. Given the gay conversion therapy parallels you can probably guess WHO they sent him to. I certainly did. He's happy with who he is though and his freedom.

Issue 5 opens with the pride having a wake. Naturally assholes are protesting it. It's a weird thing.. but I respect the comic for using the f slur. It's not for shock value, it's simply being realistic, and it's something queer people face every day. It's something a lot of comics would censor but glass knows is necessary.

The pride haven't given up... but have a good justifcation for doing this: as Fabman points out superheroes have learned to "hope for the best, expect the worst". Given how many heroes end up dead but come back or were never dead, fair point. It's also been a few weeks, giving the team time offscreen to train. Speaking of which.. wolf asks Owen, aka Cub, to join the team. While Cub is straight.. Wolf genuinely dosen't care. It's not about exclusion, i'ts about family and right now Cub coudl use one. He tearfully accepts.

We also get introduced to Angel OUT of costume, Kele Amos and his wife. Everyone's happy to meet her and finds out Angel is pansexual. There's four absences though: Fab Man is taking the loss personally, even more than Angel and Owen who vow revenge, so White Trash went to find him, while Frost... seemingly didn't care to show up. Sapphire was absent.. because she went to go confront her at the gay bar gay bar, but not the gay bar gay bar gay bar in front of their HQ.

Frost is seemingly not effected.. but Sapphire sees through it: she's afraid to cry and be vunerable and while Frost is offended for a second.. she breaks down. The two end up embrasing and while Frost tries to come out at trans, Sapphire assures her she knows all she needs to know.

Their not the only hookup either as WOlf and Twink have a training session, with Twink frustrated they have no leads an daccidently bodying Wolf across the room. He kisses him in the heat of it, Wolf kisses him back. Another couple paired off.

Finally we get to White Trash and Fabman. Fabs naturally blames himself, but White Trash shuts that shit down: Harvey knew the risks, was out there every day in spite of them, and was proud of who he is and this team. He makes a cabaret refrence, for a drag queen he once knew and life is a cabaret: sometims it's good, sometimes it sucks balls. But you'll never get the good if you don't live it.. and making this team.. is living. So White Trash gets him ready to go out.. they don't kiss thoguh. Not his type. Also can Fabman mystically sense when other people ar ebanging or are the others hooking up that much of a forgone conclusion he just assumes it's happening.

After all this hooking up, Wolf gets a spooky spirit message from Bear, whose alive... Basher's using him for his evil mind control plot, revealing it's an evil mind control plot. Seriously is there anything about this guy that isn't a cliche wrapped in hate speech?

At any rate we get a brief scene showing the team's been training hard, leveling up.. and after Cub takes on the highest level of training bot himself, beheading it.

We end the issue on Bassher making a grand announcment to the world as he holds up Bear's bloody body hooked to the machine.

Final issue. As basher makes his announcment Cub, White Trash and Angel and Twink wonder why nothing's happening to them. Their all x-cel positive while the rest of the team has diffrent means. Since it's the only one I forgot to mention, frost got hers via surgery.

Taking an art break the art this issue is decent. Not as good as the other issues but fine. The other issue.s. minus the last one which swapped artists constantly including weirdly ending on Mark ellerby's art. And I fucking love mark ellerby's art but it's more cartoony and din't fit the ominous ending at all.

Our heroes have bigger issues as it turns out most of Justice Division is X-Positive, and thus only Morningstar (the bird asshole form before ) and the Venusian are left as they crash into Pride HQ. Luckily our heroes have been training for this.. both combat and specifically kicking the Justice Divisions assholes which give no homo zonker harris just suantered in trying to shut them down and a fight broke out rather easily, fair point. It pays off as the Pride easily take them down, with Angel in particular getting a nice subtle bit of redemption for botching the last fight, narrowing her focus to just superdude and sending him to the moon. After finishing up with a ncie combo attack, using fabs and morningstar's light powers on Twink's shiny skin to drive the last Divison Member left, a midnighter knockoff who also can move through shadows, down. Wolf also bluntly tells the Venusian and Morningstar to stay put for two reasons despite their insitance that, as the big team they should do it: One, they just koed most of their team, and two, they need someone to protect the city while they hopefully handle this. On this reread for transcribing this review as it's a perfect contrast to the first fight: The first time out most of the team squared up against someone, fighting one on one, a subtle detail I didn't notice but highlights how while they are a team, their not WORKING as one. While tw oget taken out solo, frost targeting bluebird's vocal cords and Sapphire/Muscle Mary easily handeling Mighty Miss (Their wonder woman at home), the first is a strategy they worked out just in case wolf prompts her for, and the rest are all taken out with team work. While it disapointing all the actual training happend off screen, it's an excellent way to show how it's paid off. I would've liked to see them come together as a team, no comment, but I also understand Glass likely could only get the six issues and judging from the fill in artists and especailly issue 5 being a whole GAGLE of various artists and clearly not being intended for that kind of setup, self publishing was a nightmare. It's no wonder the second volume had comixology's help and the third was funded with Kickstarter, to prevent this kind of thing from happening again. So it's that Hazbin Hotel issue of having to cram EVERYTHING they can into 6 issues as they may not get more. It hurts the story a little, but I understand the impulse and thus i'm a bit more forgiving if the story still mostly works.

Thankfully said dream earlier allowed Wolf to track them. As he explains when they get into their dope jet the crusier, there was some sand at the scene that was diffrent, coming from a former nuclear test site. Luckily for our heroes the radiation has gone down enough that the radiation isn't an issue.. but allowed them to track the Reverend down. We also get his backstory: the Reverend is Reverend William Franklin, who was kicked out after he was caught using his powers to brainwash his congregation. I like to think bibleman did it. At any rate his powers didn't work on X-Cels, hence his need for bear.

The team split up: Most of the team stays out front, with Angel taking out most of the brainwashed heroes the rev's summoned, while the team as a whole minus fabman, wolf, twink and frost fight basher. Wolf, Twink and Frost take on the rev's forces.. and it turns out.. they were also a distraction as Fabman cleans house. Outside the res tof the team has an excellent rematch with basher another nice reflection; Before each member fought him one at a time, this time they all work together and angel uses her powers to allow the others to sucker him. It's something I wished i'd noticed on first read as this book is REALLY good at having the team.. work as an actual team once their good and pumped in this last issue. Most team books tend to have them hit em one at a time, but if you have a team.. why not have them do a circuit. I'm not against the group fighting alone, but this and x-men 97 show why a good super circuit is awesome.

White Trash ALMOST kills basher but backs away.. unfortunately though.. cub does not and slits his throat. WEll I mean Basher did deserve it but i'ts not good for the kid himself to murder a guy ya know? As he sobs to his dad as he's freed though Fabman.. is also close, ready to go full red eyes superman on the homophobe.. but being the bigger man dosen't. He destroys the reverends book so he can't channel his powers again, which was just directly pulled out of his perfectly toned ass but whatever. The day is saved.

Their greeted by the entire superhero community they just saved.. who all cheer them. The Pride proved themselves and it while basher's about as complicated as a piece of cardboard, I give the comic credit for having an organic way for them to earn the superhero communites respect.

With that there's just one last bit of buisness, an epilogue finishing up where we began: two months later the Pride are now one of the world's most popular superteam, with both of the anchors no longer being homophobic jackasses.. I doubt they've actually changed, they just recognize they can't make snide queer jokes about the world's saviors. The pride are getting medals of valor while, fair play to them, the justice division not only admitted they had a don't ask don't tell policy but have removed it. The latters the bear minimum and never should've been a thing. The formers.. the part they get more credit for: it's rare for a public figure not forced into it by overwhelming evidence to admit they did something awful, so the divison not only admitting what they likely did to wolf, but likely apologizing for it is big.

Fabman meets with billy and the bullies have also changed their tune finding him awesome. Fabman is here because Billy.. is the one that inspired him to do this. The world wouldn't of been saved and he wouldn't have his new family without them. Billy returns the favor giving fabman his old action figure after fabs gives him a new one, wanting to give fabs a token of where this started.. and his thanks. The why.. brings a tear to our heroes eyes. He fought hard.. and now the world sees Fabman the way billy did, sees all of the pride that way and we end on fabs proudly flying away with the kids telling him to go change the world. Cheesy but it works.

The Pride... is pretty damn good. When I started writing this review, I found it okay. But as often happens my opinon changed the more I engaged with the work. Sometimes that goes the other way: I liked temple of Doom and Lion King II less the more I had to think about them. But here seeing all the little touches, how it has a decently fleshed out cast in such a short time span (With only Sapphire feeling underdeveloped by the end and even she's still decently fleshed out), and how the team slowly grow. It's not perfect: A LOT of the commentary is on the nose with all the villians being one not ebigots. I'm not asking them to be likeable, i'm asking for their to be layers to thier bigotry and hatred, how they operate. The book is not subtle and while it hurts it in the antagonist department, and the rev himself is dispatched cartoonishly easy, it helps everywhere else: As I thought about it the book does raise some really valid points about the big two. it'd be nice if the justice divisoin weren't cardboard cutouts themselves, but it's still a nice commentary on how superhero books tend to have one or two queer people on a team if at all. The Pride isn't subtle, is a tad messy at times.. but i'ts a lot of fun an da concept i'm shocked took this long to happen. An all queer super team is a brilliant concept and I can't wait to see what happens with them next time, next year. I'm all for making the Pride a permenant pride month fixture if this does well enough. For now it was a fun ride and I hope you enjoyed me jawing about it. Thanks for reading.

[cambria-writes]

hello! a week late for this one but believe me when i tell you it has felt like a hundred year war has been going on in my head. i'm alright now i think! should be getting better from here. i hope!

and here's to hoping that next week will have an upload, because that will be marking the end of Ravenloft. :)

thanks for sticking around! also sorry for any mistakes i did my best to proofread this but shit happens. yknow how it goes.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader rating: T warning: swearing, mention of death, reader's afab but doesn't have much description, lots of jump cuts but it's okay i promise, reader maybe has powers? 👀, mention of hospitals, intravenous hydration and needles, mention of wounds (and blood I think?), two people being idiot saps word count: 4, 253

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: 𝔇𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔊𝔲𝔦𝔡𝔢

Eddie sits next to you at the top of the stairs, shoulder pressed into yours. He looks significantly better than he did when he walked in; as soon as your mother saw the sorry state he was in, she immediately ushered him into the bathroom with fresh towels and ordered you to get a change of clothes. Wayne tried to say that wasn’t necessary, but you and your mother both just kept talking like he hadn’t tried to turn down your hospitality.

Taking a quick glance at Eddie, you still find it unsettling. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants you plucked from your brother’s room, and one of your old oversized Cocteau Twins shirt. Though he looks comfortable enough, you still think Eddie looks... out of place.

You take a breath and open your mouth to say something—anything, honestly, to break the silence—but Eddie clears his throat. Leans his elbows on his knees and lets his head hang low before turning to look at you.

“Carver’s dead.”

You blink twice. “Excuse me?”

“They found his—someone moved his car,” he says quietly, quickly glancing at the bottom of the stairs. You can hear your mother and Wayne talking. “They found his car at the Creel house. I dunno, someone reported a body, and...” Eddie clenches and unclenches his fists in front of him.

“You don’t,” you start, exhale sharply. “You’re not blaming yourself for—”

“Wha—no! Fuck, no, just...” Eddie sighs and brings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “I guess I figured if we could save Max, maybe...”

You nod. You understand. Maybe no one else would have to die.

“They’re pinning it on him, too,” Eddie whispered, running his hands through his damp hair before crossing his arms. “All of it. Cause of all the army surplus shit in the car.”

“Fuck, that’s...”

You don’t know what to say. Jason Carver was never someone you particularly liked; his behaviour was too strange, too erratic. You could never get a good read on him and, honestly, after seeing how he treated Hellfire—and pretty much anyone who remotely approached the punk vibe—you kept your distance.

Not that the hyper religiosity wouldn’t have been enough to keep you away, because it absolutely would have been.

But to know that he’s dead, now, probably because you’d left him in the damn house... and that he’s getting blamed for Henry Creel’s horrors in death? That didn’t. That isn’t fair. It’s a struggle to come to term with the fact that maybe this could’ve been avoided—

“Hey,” Eddie calls, turning a bit and placing a hand on your knee to grab your attention. “If I shouldn’t blame myself for it, neither should you.”

You huff and look away.

“Am I, uh,” Wayne starts, peeking out of the doorway to the kitchen, up the stairs at you. “Am I interrupting?”

“Wha—no, uh,” Eddie stutters, nearly tripping in an effort to stand up maybe a little too quickly. You clear your throat and shake your head.

“Where are you going?” You ask, craning your head to look up at Eddie. He gently pats his abdomen with a wince.

“Hospital,” he answers, carefully making his way down the stairs. “Now that I’m showered and been demoted back to town freak from murderer, y’know.”

You look down the stairs at Wayne for a few seconds, before getting up yourself to go down to see your mother. You lean into her side where she’s putting away the dishes.

“Do you mind if I take Eddie to the hospital instead?” You ask in a whisper. Your mother keeps a straight face and barely hesitates in her movements.

“Sure, why?” She asks quietly, stacking the plates and carefully placing them in the cupboard.

“Wayne looks exhausted,” You point out, stacking clean cups before passing them over. “Do you have any idea when’s the last time he slept?”

Your mother hums and puts her hands flat on the counter. She looks back at Wayne, still in the doorway, talking quietly to Eddie.

“I haven’t seen him sleep at all.”

Going through triage is easy—for Eddie, at least. One look at the few injuries he’d gotten in the Upside Down had gotten him into a small room with a doctor right away. One look at you had a nurse bringing over an IV to help with what was apparently blatantly obvious dehydration.

No one puts up much of a fight when you and Eddie insist on remaining together. There were enough injured because of the ‘earthquake’ that the small rural hospital was already way over capacity, and they wouldn’t squander an opportunity to save rooms and beds.

The few bites and cuts Eddie had gotten from the bats were thankfully small enough not to warrant stitches, but they’d done up half his chest. You can see a few patches on his arms, too. Without being able to identify exactly what bit him, Eddie had also been antibiotics, fed through the IV he was also sporting for dehydration.

You lean back in the chair you’d been sat in while Eddie’s perched on the edge of the bed next to you. You stay quiet for a bit after the nurse leaves, after informing you both not to move your arms too much.

“So that...” you start, unsure what to say. “That was one hell of a spring break.”

Eddie’s bark of laughter catches you off guard. He laughs harder when he sees you nearly jump out of your skin.

“It’s not that funny,” you mumble, but you can’t help but start laughing, too.

It doesn’t even take a minute for your laughter to calm down, but the next deep breath feels a little bit easier afterward. Like there had been a vice around your chest that’s just... gone, now.

“I’m just glad we basically wrapped up the Cult of Vecna campaign,” Eddie sighs, fiddling with the IV with his off hand. “Don’t think I’d be able to keep going with it after...”

“Hmm. Yeah, well, at least now you’ve got songwriting material, right?” You’re rewarded with a short chuckle. “No, seriously, you could—”

“Hey, sorry, can I ask you something?”

“What—I mean yeah, sure, any time,” you answer quickly, frowning.

Eddie’s moved from fiddling with the IV to cracking his knuckles. You bite your tongue to keep from asking what’s wrong and decide to be patient about it. He opens his mouth to speak a few times but shakes his head. The fourth time, he speaks up.

“If you hadn’t been... caught up in all this shit,” Eddie starts slowly. “Would you have, I dunno, like. Would you have believed it?”

“What, the whole thing about the Upside Down?”

“No, I mean,” Eddie exhales sharply before raising his head to look at you. “About me. That I—that I killed Chrissy.”

You’re honestly so shocked by the question that it takes a second for you to try and formulate an answer that conveys just how unbelievable that bullshit story was to begin with.

“I’d literally eat my own arm before I’d believe something that stupid,” you try to say evenly, voice cracking. “No one who’s bothered to talk to you for more than ten seconds would honestly believe that.”

“Would... would you have come looking for me? If you hadn’t seen me?”

You open your mouth to answer right away, but pause to actually take a second to think. It’s almost easy to imagine a world where you’d never spoken to Eddie when the nightmares came back with a vengeance. A world where you kept either to the quiet shelves of the library or the silence of your room. Where you hear about Eddie’s alleged involvement in the murder of a high school girl and couldn’t believe your ears. Where you grabbed your car and headed straight for Forest Hills.

“I would’ve wanted to,” you answer quietly, turning to look down at your own lap. “I would’ve wanted to help.”

You turn your head back up when you hear the hospital bed creak. Eddie’s sliding over to make room, and pats the space next to him. You breathe out a short okay before carefully getting up from the chair and hopping up on the bed, careful to take the IV pole with you and not jostle your arm too much. Eddie brings his good arm around your shoulders and pulls you in; gently, though, like he’s worried you’d pull away.

You let yourself be reeled in, let him guide your head to rest just beneath his collarbone, and let him rest his head on yours.

Your stomach feels like it’s full of static. You feel like running away and crying at the same time.

You stay like that until the nurse comes back to check in.

April 12th, 1986

You look around the apartment before dropping the last box on top of one of the stacks in Eddie’s room. Might not have been as big as his room in the trailer, but this is one of two rooms. Which means Wayne gets to have his own space for the first time in god knows how many years.

And Eddie is beaming. Not an ounce of care that the place is a bit narrower than he’s used to. You interrupt yourself mid-sigh when you notice that he’s already put up the Corroded Coffin flag and several posters. You can’t help but laugh.

“Dude, you don’t even know where the furniture’s gonna go yet!”

“Incorrect,” Eddie says, slapping the remaining corner of an Ozzy poster with a bit more force than necessary. “I know where shit’s not gonna go, so I know where it will go.”

You narrow your eyes and shake your head at him when he turns to look at you triumphantly. “Sure, bud. Come on, Pizza’s waiting.”

“I’m kind of weirdly happy those made it you,” you point at Wayne who, despite being at it since the crack of dawn, was still busy unpacking his collection of mugs, of all things. “Shame about the hats though.”

“Old man’s gonna have to live with the reality that he’s been balding since I was twelve,” Eddie quips, patting the man on the shoulder and trying to herd him into the kitchen.

You’re halfway through your first slice of pepperoni-bacon-onion pizza when you hear thumping and cursing from the direction of the front door. Eddie scoffs around his own slice of pizza and rushes to open the door.

“Thanks man, really appreciate it, super quick response time,” you hear Steve say, clearly through clenched teeth.

“Can we move, please?” you hear Dustin calling from behind the couch he’s apparently helping Steve carry. “Or did we forget I’m literally missing bones?”

“None in your arms, numbskull,” you hear Steve mutter. “Wait, did you guys start eating without us?”

“The fuck?”

You decidedly ignore the sausage fest at the front door.

“How’d you find this place anyways, Wayne?” you ask, pouring yourself a glass of coke. “I didn’t think anything would be available in April, especially after what happened.”

“Strangest thing,” Wayne starts, putting his slice down and leaning back in his chair. “Some government agent showed up at your parents place while y’all were out. Said the government’s giving me paid leave and ‘providing accommodations’, on account of the earthquake.”

You freeze, glass of coke nearly at your mouth. “A government agent?” Wayne only grunts in confirmation. “You’re right, that is strange.”

“Eh,” Eddie interjects, hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter next to the pizza. “We’ve seen stranger things.”

You twist and throw your arm around your chair to look back at Dustin and Steve as they make their way to the joint kitchen and dining room.

“Yeah, I heard Mike saw Susie on their way here. Spending time in a Mormon household...” You shudder and turn back to your pizza slice. “That’s definitely weirder.”

You ignore Dustin’s indignant and shocked gasp when Eddie catches your eye. He nods toward his (new) bedroom before hopping off the counter. You don’t bother excusing yourself; Wayne’s already back to unpacking and Dustin and Steve are busy bring a shining example of unrelated siblings.

“What’s up?” you ask when you enter the room. Eddie’s already bent at the waist going through one of the boxes.

“Got something,” he says shortly, quickly picking up the box and putting it aside to look through the next one. He gestures at the other boxes. “Find the one with the records?”

“Uh, sure,” you agree, hesitant, but you don’t have the chance to open a single box before you hear a loud ‘aha!’ Eddie’s victoriously holding a record over his head, before letting his arms drop and holding it out for you.

“What... Frank Sinatra? Dude are you good.” You frown down at the records—Fly Me to the Moon, of all things. It’s always been one of your favourite, but... but it’s not like you’ve ever told anyone that. Much less Eddie.

Not that you don’t trust that he would treat you the same as he always had, but... but, jazz isn’t. It doesn’t really match the rest of your personality? You’ve very much been catering your more punk inclinations, and jazz is...

“Your mom told me,” Eddie explains quietly, taking a careful step toward you. He leans a bit over to the side, trying to get a better look at your face. “She, uh. She said your grandpa played it for you a lot when you were a kid.”

You can’t swallow the lump in your throat.

“I... thank you, but why?”

Eddie nods at the record in your hands. “Pull it out.”

You look up at him long enough to give him a confused look. You pull the record out nevertheless. And it, itself, is completely unremarkable. The envelope that falls out, however, very much catches your attention. You slip the record back in its sleeve and pass it over to Eddie without looking.

You crouch to pick up the envelope and flip it over in your hands. No writing, huh. You flip it open, and it just takes the quickest of glances at what’s inside for you to scream and throw the envelope to the floor.

Two tickets for Judas Priest stare back at you.

You vaguely register Eddie shooing both Steve and Dustin away.

“You’re uh, you’re makin’ me nervous here,” Eddie says eventually. You crouch back down to pick up the tickets in their envelope.

“How?”

“Hush money,” Eddie shrugs, and with the amount of frowning you’re doing you’re almost worried your face will stay stuck that way.

“Judas Priest. In August, in Indianapolis. For Turbo.”

Eddie bites back a grin and nods. You look at him, down to the tickets, and back up at him.

“You’re coming with me right?” You’re barely done talking and Eddie’s pumping a fist in the air. “Wait, did you not intend for me to take you?”

“Uh, well, y’know I didn’t wanna assume—”

“And you put them in a Frank Sinatra sleeve?” You laugh, carefully tucking the envelope in the back pocket of your jeans before throwing your arms around Eddie’s neck and pulling him in for a hug. You almost pull away when you feel him tense.

But then Eddie sighs and wraps his arms around you, before promptly lifting you up just enough to spin you around once. When your feet are back on the ground, you look up at Eddie and can’t help but laugh again.

“We’re gonna see fuckin’ Judas Priest!”

May 4th, 1986

It’s movie night, and this time it’s at your parents’ place. In light of which day it is—and the fact that the host gets to pick the movie—you’re forcing Steve to watch Star Wars.

The house is blessedly empty, save for the invited few. Your parents’ wedding anniversary is, very conveniently, also May 4th, which means they’re out enjoying a lovely vacation far, far away from the gaping hellmouth that is Hawkins. Your brother, after the initial mess and organization post-quake, went back home.

Steve is comfortably reclined in your dad’s La-Z-Boy, Nancy and Robin are glued together at one end of your parents’ 4-seater while Jonathan tries to look like he’s not bothered by the distance, leaning against the opposite arm. You’re sat in your mother’s rocking chair with Eddie sitting with his back against your legs.

Just as R2 starts playing Leia’s message, you hit the pause button on the remote and clear your throat.

“Just wanted to say that I’m moving out in July cause Helen owns a place but her tenants hauled ass when everything went to shit so if y’all wanna help just scream.” You hit the play button.

You get about a second of hearing Leia plead with Obi-Wan before she becomes absolutely inaudible under the cacophony. Robin and Eddie both stand up in shock, Steve tries to argue that he doesn’t even know if he can help you move, while Jonathan and Nancy seem content to let the other three run wild with their questions.

You can’t help but laugh. “So you’re all helping then?”

Eventually, when everything calms down—which is to say, once Robin and Steve have calmed down—and you’ve paused the movie again, you take the time to explain. Properly.

“So Helen,” Robin starts, staring down at her hands to keep track. “Library Helen that didn’t like you two years ago, went to see you, first, to offer you a house.”

You make a face and lean your head back.

“I mean yeah, but like. It’s not too far from Forest Hills, so the guy who lived there with his brother just left the day that—the, when the...”

“Wait, so is it like, furnished?” Steve asks, and you can already see the shining beam of hope flashing in his head. So you nod.

“Yeah, pretty much. Sense of style’s gonna be horrible but it’s whatever, right?” You look down at Eddie, still dutifully sat on the floor in front of your legs, and playfully tousle the top of his head. “What matters is that I have my own place now.”

May 24th, 1986

“You didn’t have to come,” you say quietly, gripping your umbrella like it’s about to run away. Your shoes squelch uncomfortably with the rain. Your clothes feel damp and your left shoulder’s soaked.

“I know.” Eddie doesn’t say anything else, just occasionally bumps his shoulder into you to try and get you out of your own head.

And you were very, very deep in your own head.

It’s still hard to... to process, just. Everything that’s happened. There are three people dead. Three kids dead. And before that, there was—

Your throat still clenches when you think about what happened at Starcourt. Everything that led up to it—the progressively more imposing and suffocating feeling of something closing in. People going missing, the rumbling of the earth underfoot something massive.

Eddie bumps into you again. He doesn’t look worried or weirded out when you nearly jump out of your skin. When you look up at him, he just turns to look back ahead.

“We’re here,” he says, but gently puts a hand on your shoulder to hold you back. You can see Eddie’s gaze going from eye to eye to gauge your reaction—or maybe your current state of mind?—before gripping your shoulder a bit tighter. “If nothing happens...”

“Then I lose nothing,” you reply quietly, slowly reaching up to take his hand off your shoulder. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

Eddie swallows thickly but nods. You don’t let go of his hand.

It was... maybe a little weird. It was probably a lot weird, actually, to want to come to a cemetery right around dinnertime. But with everything calming down, with no sign of anything extradimensional fucking with shit again, it was like there was a gentle pressure at the back of your neck pushing you forward. Nothing creepy, nothing unpleasant, just something like a hand trying to guide you somewhere.

You’d asked Eddie to come just in case.

You pull him along with one hand, first to Barbara Holland. Heavy in your other arm is a bouquet of carnations—two toned, the scarlet red edging the petals a contrast to the stark white of the rest. You place one in front of Barbara’s grave before taking a knee in the muddy ground. You put the bouquet down next to you after passing your umbrella over to Eddie. And then you just close your eyes and... and wait, for a bit.

You’re not sure you expect anything to happen. You’ve tried messing around with the cleric spell list, for lack of a better way to put it, but you seemed back to normal. No weird powers, no weird dreams. Back to being just a small down librarian.

You jolt back from a near-doze, and Eddie has to catch you—awkwardly, trying to manage two umbrellas—before you hit the muds.

“You good?” He asks, passing the umbrella back over to you once you’ve picked the bouquet back up.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, looking back at the grave for a second. “Yeah, I’m... good.”

You go through several people like that; you find the grave, give a flower, kneel down for a second to... meditate? Only to eventually be shocked back into wakefulness.

The last person you go see is Chrissy Cunningham. If there’s a second of hesitation in his step, Eddie hides it well. There’s a moment when you feel bad, when you’re both standing in front of the grave. Eddie’s breathing sounds strained, even over the sound of the rain hitting your umbrellas. Your fingers bump into his when you blindly reach for his hand. You give his hand a last squeeze before taking a knee again.

You close your eyes, and when you let your fingertips brush against the headstone, it feels like a shock. The back of your eyelids are painted white, before everything gets eaten up by an endless black. This feels familiar.

When you open your eyes, you’re here—this strange in between place you’ve seen Eleven in. The headstone is still in front of you but there’s... something else, here. Something nagging at you.

You stand up to look around. There’s a feeling like knowing, in your bones, that there’s something else here. You take a deep breath and start by looking down at your feet. And then, slowly, outward.

There. In the shallow waters, something... red?

When you make your way to it, there’s no mistaking it: that’s a whole ass rose bud. Just sitting there like it’s always been there and this is exactly where it should grow. So, naturally, you move to pick it up. The thing doesn’t budge.

So you kneel down by the almost-flower, and gently try to pull it up. Somehow, it’s like the entire plan is... beneath you? And this bud is the only thing that’s made it to the surface. You don’t want to just—well, no, you don’t think you should just pluck the thing. That... doesn’t feel right.

Instead, you start digging your fingers into the ground as best you can to try and unearth the would-be rose. When you’ve cleared enough of the stem to get a grip on it and pull, you have to take a second to warm your fingers.

You don’t think about why the water’s cold.

Carefully, trying to dodge and protect the rosebud, you wrap your fingers around the stem and tug.

Nothing. Not that you figured a tiny tug would do it.

You flex your fingers around the stem a bit more firmly. This time, you take a deep breath, dig your heels in, and pull.

It’s slow at first, but as you keep the tension, the stem starts to budge. Then, all at once, it’s like an explosion of colours; like fireworks and paint flying everywhere. There’s a cacophony of sound, too; laughing, shrieking, popping corn and a crowd cheering. The sound of flash bulbs burning out, the smell of pine trees and ink and paper, the glint of glass.

You come too looking straight up at a very concerned looking Eddie. You’re having a hard time breathing; you’re not... entirely sure what just happened, there. You think you might understand, maybe. You hope that maybe you’re right. That maybe you just helped some people get... unstuck.

You only realize you’re crying when Eddie gathers you up in his arms and sighs. He doesn’t sound put out or upset.

“Your mom’s gonna kill me,” he says, nose in your hair. You laugh a little. “You’re gonna track mud all over the place.”

You appreciate that he doesn’t ask about what just happened. You don’t know that you’d be able to explain it even if you wanted to.

The two of you only spend a few more seconds like that before Eddie helps you back up to your feet. At arm’s length, he takes a look at you and makes you do a spin. He groans and pulls you along behind him, barely giving you enough time to grab the two umbrellas where they’d fallen.

“What the hell was that for?”

“My van doesn’t deserve this, man,” Eddie moans, looking down at himself before gesturing at you. “It’s gonna take forever to clean everything out! You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“...did you just—”

“Don’t. No. I didn’t say anything. Shut up and get in the damn van, you heathen.”

You return the kindness to Eddie; you don’t ask about why his ears are scarlet red the whole ride home.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@bramblequill @storiesbyrhi @averagestudent03 @alovesongtheywrote @doratheignora @fnlyroe

[rjmartin11]

Earth Angel, Heavenly Boy Part 4

Pairing: Angel!Elvis & OC!black!female

Summary: After a nearly fatal car accident, a mysterious man saved the life of a young woman who believes the young man is more than what he seems.

Word Count: ???

Warnings: Bad dreams, mentions of angels, slowburn

Author's Notes: Welcome to Part Four!

If you like this chapter, like, follow, repost, and comment!

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・🪽・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Noel feels like she's flipping over in her car once more. She sweats in bed as the memories play horrificly in her mind. She can hear the wheels squeaking across the wet roads once more. She hears the glass shatter in her ears as it scratches her skin. She feels the pressure of the air bag as it tries to protect her from impact. She feels the steering wheel force itself down on her leg. She relives the excruciating pain that came with the moment as her leg snapped in three places. She feels her right wrist snap. The recalls the moment as the driver's seat forces her chest forward, breaking a rib. She was dying. She was dead.

She sees the small light in the distance and walks to it, yet she's pulled back to the pain of life. But there's no more pain. She's comfortable and warmth life a security blanket. She feels stronger than before. As she comes to, she feels sometime strange. It's like someone is... kissing her gently back to life.

Noel forces herself awake. She catches her breath as she wipes the sweat away from her brow. Then her fingers trace her lips as she recalls the lips that were once there. She didn't imagine it. She knows she didn't. She was kissed back to life. The one who kissed her had blue eyes. He was that close to her.

Noel gets out of bed and looks for her pencil and sketch pad. She plays her music as she begins to draw he hero's eyes. They're not large. His eyes were hooded but not sinister. They're heavenly. There was a glow about them. A peace beyond her comprehension. A peace Noel yearned for deeply in her everyday life.

Noel sketched page after page until she felt that she got his eye just right. Forty-two pages of eyes and the final page reminded her of Dr. Carpenter a little bit. An oceanic haze of turquoise made her heart swell with comfort.

Before she knew it, it was seven o'clock in the morning, and she needed to call her boss to let her know she wasn't coming in. Her boss was quite understanding and kind about it. Noel got the next five days off to recuperate herself.

She takes another shower and brushes her teeth in preparation for the day. She makes a few phones to her family, telling them about her car accident. Her mama is frantic and doused with anxiety. It takes Noel at least thirty minutes to calm her down.

"As long as you're safe, baby girl," she says.

"I'm just fine, Mama. I love you," Noel says, reassuring her.

"I love you, too."

After talking with her mama, Noel calls her car insurance company to file a claim. Being that it wasn't her fault, Noel could get a new vehicle in no time. But for the next two weeks, Noel can have a rental car to get her from A to B.

She cleans her apartment and gets her bills in order, seeing if she has room for that Italy trip she's dreamed about. She still has some saving to do, but she's closer than she was.

She goes in the kitchen for a snack and looks at Dr. Carpenter's card on the counter. Maybe she should talk to him. The thoughts of life haven't plagued her mind since she was a teenager.

All of a sudden, her phone rings.

"Hello?" She answers.

"Noel? Hi, it's Zeke," he says.

"Hi. Yeah, I remember you. The cutie from the fire department," she flirts.

Zeke laughs at her jests.

"That would be me, yeah. I was wondering if you're free tonight for dinner?"

Noel blushes at this question.

"Maybe. Why do you ask?"

"Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

"I'd love to go to dinner with you. Where are you taking me, and where do we meet?"

"It's this little bistro off the counter of Locura and Bedlam. Meet me there by seven," he tells her.

"Locura and Bedlam? Got it."

"I can't wait, Noel. I'll see you then."

"Yeah, see ya then."

They hang up the phone, and Noel ponders on the word Locura. It's something unique about the word. She can't focus on it too long, knowing she needs to go pick up her rental car.

Noel takes the city bus to the local Enterprise. She gets to look at the from a different point of view. Before the accident, her life was nonstop. Rush, rush, rush. She didn't notice how much the city had changed around her. New restaurants. More office buildings. She prides herself in noticing things that others may miss, but now she's the one who's missing things.

The bus slows itself down as it approaches an accident. The passengers of the bus shift their focus on the sad spectacle. Noel was already sitting on that side of the bus in shock. She can't believe her eyes.

As everyone else sees the paramedics doing their jobs, Noel sees what she believes to be souls of the dead. She sees a translucent little girl with a teddy bear patiently wait for someone. Then, a translucent woman walks up to the little girl and the walk hand ns hand into a source of light.

Noel takes a breath and looks at the ambulance. The blood body she sees is the same woman she saw walking with the little ghost girl. Could it be that they walked into the afterlife? The light of heaven? A tear falls down from Noel's eye to her cheek. It was a sad sight, but it was also a sense of peace to it. It still perplexes her.

Twenty minutes later, Noel gets to the Enterprise rental car dealership. She did most of her paperwork online, so the dealership only needed a few signatures. They handed Noel the keys to 2019 Nissan Rogue. As she sat in the driver's seat of the vehicle, Noel just couldn't get the image out of the mind.

She picked up her phone and decided she'd make one phone call before driving off. As the phone rang, Noel hoped that she made the right decision to call.

"This is Dr. Carpenter."

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @eptodaytommorowforever @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @dreamingofep @aliypop @littlehoneyposts @msamarican

[broughtbackright]

[Video recording begin.]

[The walls of an old, run down shack blur together as someone fumbles with the camera. After a few seconds, they finally turn it towards their face, revealing Ophelia, smiling, her cheeks hole-filled and rotted. Some parts of her jaw and teeth are visible through a few. The visible bones are yellow, and her eyes don’t look quite right, but it’s Ophelia all the same.]

O: Okay, I think I have this set up correctly? Maybe? In all honesty I just wanted to play with the camera.

[A laugh can be heard off to the side, Ophelia’s head snaps in its direction.]

O: What? Can’t a girl take a video without being ridiculed? Shame on you, Cassius.

[Whatever Cassius says in reply is drowned out by Ophelia nearly dropping the phone. Another laugh from Cassius, which earns a playful scowl from Ophelia.] 

O: Jerk.

Cassius: Dork.

O: I’M NOT A– ugh. That’s it, I’m not letting you have the phone today.

C: Aw, come on, Ophelia! How could you do this to your absolute best friend?

O: You’re my only friend.

C: So? Does that mean we can’t still be besties?

O: You got me there. 

[Just then, a loud thunk is heard outside followed by a shout. It's muffled but still loud enough to be picked up by the mic.]

O: HELLO?

[Ophelia rushes over to open the door, the camera switching from her face to the ground, her footsteps sound oddly heavy. The door swings open, and she scans the area.]

O: Is someone there?

?: [Muffled under fabric.] Hi!!!!!

[A hand pops up from the ground, the hand is wearing a glove attached with duct tape, a black jacket covered in dried blood and mud. The person waves.]

O: [Quietly.] No way.

?: [Still muffled.] Ha, that fucking hurt.

[The person sits up, wearing a dark red beanie, a black mask, sunglasses, and a blood stained bandage around the person's throat. The person coughs and grabs at their ribs.]

[Ophelia shrieks and drops the phone, which is seemingly caught by someone else. The taller woman wraps the other in a hug, and picks them up in the process, twirling in a circle.]

O: IT’S YOU! 

?: Um… Wait a second… I know that voice..? Do I?  

O: Don’t you remember me? It’s Ophelia! I’ve missed you so fucking much HOLY SHIT.

?: I… You… I thought you were…

[The person hugs Ophelia, sobbing.]

?: [Between crying.] I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!

O: SAME HERE! Hana, it’s been so long since we’ve seen anyone we know, you have NO idea!

H: 15 years… That’s the last time I saw anyone… um… yeah… haha… Anyway, you uh, you look great! Genuinely!

[Ophelia places Hanako down gently, making sure she can stand on her own before backing up. She giggles.]

O: Hana, I know I look like shit, you don’t have to be polite. 

H: I'm being honest! All things considered, you look great. Um… I'm realizing something. 

[Hanako stands there for a moment, grabbing at the mask on her face and removing it. Dark red blood leaking from part of her mouth, a part of her chin rotted revealing bone and more blood, green skin stitched back on with black thread. Her jaw is slanted to one side, obvious by the holes in her cheek.]

H: Is my jaw fucked up?

O: A little. Come inside, we have room for one more. I’ll help you with your jaw.

H: O- WAIT A GODDAMN MINUTE.

[Hanako removes her glasses, red eyes looking at Ophelia. More bone peeking through at the top of the beanie.]

H: We!? What do you mean we?

O: Oops, erm… hold on. 

[Ophelia turns back towards the camera, mouth open to call for someone, but she notices the phone.]

O: Cass, if you’re trying to be subtle, it’s not working.

C: [Behind the phone.] I’m not trying to be subtle.

H: Oh hey Cassius! Didn't see you ther- WAIT A MINUTE CASSIUS?

O: Yeah, he’s here, its just been the two of us for… how long… Cass, how long?

C: 35 years? We’ve been hermits for a long time. You kept talking about going out, but never followed through. Until like, a few weeks ago or whatever. But yeah, 35 years.

H: Yeah kinda same… I uh until recently I've just been hiding in a wall with Edgar Will and Willy since Melody died.

[Hanako stands there, seemingly after a few seconds something clicks.]

H: I'm talking about mice by the way. Not the… People.

[Ophelia’s shoulders fall, she glances off to the side.]

O: Ah, got a little excited for a second. I guess… 4 out of 5 of us is… good enough?

H: 4 out of 6 if we count Melody? They uh as far as I know hasn't come back.

O: Mm. Yeah. I… hm. Let’s go inside. We can be sad in the comfort of the run-down shack.

[The phone reenters the shack, Ophelia audibly follows.]

H: Ooooooo nice shack! Sorry for. Ok hold on.

[There is a loud crack behind Ophelia, and Hanako laughs.]

H: There we go! Anyway back to what I was saying, sorry for running face first into this place. Kinda uh was being chased.

O: It’s fine. It was a nice surprise. 

[A sudden movement of the phone causes a blur of the wooden walls and the outlines of Hanako and Ophelia to be all the camera picks up for a second. Before it finally rests propped up on a cardboard box.]

H: So um… How have y'all been?

C: Dead tired, but fine.

O: [A groan, before she slumps over in the arm chair she has sat down in.] Cass, you need to stop with that stupid joke.

[Hanako laughs, it lasts a few seconds before coughing loudly.]

O: DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM.

H: I haven't heard a joke in person in 15 years. I've earned that laugh. 

O: [Her tone is playful, showing no sign of genuine annoyance.] Now he’s going to tell more! What have you done, Hana! 

H: Damn.

[Ophelia doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, instead fiddling with a locket around her neck. Opening and closing it very quickly, it appears to be a practiced motion. Something she likely does a lot.]

H: Hm? What's with the locket?

C: [Clearing his throat, an action likely unnecessary, but he does it anyway.] It’s mine, but… I can’t wear it. So she wears it for me. 

H: Oh, that's nice!

O: Yeah, I uh… hm. Sorry for being a bit of a debbie downer right now. Just… 

H: Yeah? What's up?

[Instead of responding, which seems to be something Ophelia would be unable to do anyway, she takes the locket off and opens it, holding it out to Hanako.]

H: Oh… Um…

[Hanako looks at the locket. Getting teary eyed.]

H: Sorry for getting teary eyed, I just… 

O: It’s fine. I think we all just… hm. I don’t know. I just let my heart take over my thoughts for a second. I need to stop letting that happen.

H: No no it's ok! Um… you're fine…

[Hanako sits down, sighing.]

O: I’m just happy we didn’t lose everyone. You’re here, which is… absolutely insane. If I didn’t know better, I’d even say this was a miracle. 

H: Meh… I guess? Sometimes it feels like a curse… Glad to see you though!

O: Yeah, it does feel like a bit of a curse, doesn’t it? The amount of times my legs have given me trouble this week alone is astounding.

H: Hm? What do you mean? Maybe I can help?

O: Doubtful, ha. 

[She pulls up her pant leg, revealing a hunk of scrap metal and wiring. As she does so, it sparks, and she yelps.]

H: Hm. That's uh. Huh.

[Hanako looks intriguing, but also a little annoyed. Looking back at the gloved hand.]

O: They got fucked up in the crash, I had to do something, or else I’d never be able to actually get around. 

H: … crash?

C: That’s how we uh. Died. 

H: … Hm.

[Hanako fiddles with her hair, looking upset.]

O: It was rough, yeah. Sorry if that wasn’t something you wanted to hear.

H: A crash is also how Mel died… Tough subject. Y'know? Crashes?

O: … people need to stop dying in car accidents. Or… bus accidents, in our case.

H: Oh… A bus? Hm… I'm really sorry but the image of a bus doing a backflip entered my mind… Fucking christ…

C: Pfft. With how fucked up my body was, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what fuckin’ happened.

H: Damn… I um… Ok… Can I ask you two something? Off topic… kinda… Just… I can ask you guys about this so…

C: Mhm? What’s up?

H: Do you guys have nightmares about him? About Edgar?

O: Oh, god. Hana… I… 

H: Everytime I try to sleep, I see his face… He keeps screaming for me to help…

[Hanako begins laughing, but also seemingly crying, looking at Ophelia and probably Cassius.]

H: [Between laughing and crying.] I haven't slept in 36 years! I keep seeing him when I try! WHY COULDN’T I FUCKING HELP! IT WASN'T FAIR! I WANT TO SLEEP.

O: [Standing up, moving over to Hanako.] Can I hug you again? I– I think you need it. 

H: [Sobbing.] P- Please?

[Ophelia wraps her arms around Hanako again.]

H: [Muffled sobbing.] Thank you.

C: [Muttered.] Fuck, I should probably turn this off.

H: [Still muffled.] Huh?

C: Ophelia was uh, making a video, god knows why, maybe to upload somewhere…? And we accidentally left it on.

H: [Muffled.] Oh.

C: Yeahhhh, lemme just…

[Recording end.]

[joseopher]

HELLO, LADIES, WORMS, HOMOSEXUALS

As we know I check the novacaine tags daily.

AND WE HAVE A NEW FIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ITS PART OF THE ATLAS SIX VACATION SERSIS! LETS GOOO!

I'm starving, darling!!!!!!!!!

WHY YOU SHOULD READ THIS FIC:

[Image ID: A screenshot of the tags that reads: "Callum is pathetic pt 3" /.End ID]

Spoilers! Spoilers! Spoilers! Spoilers! Spoilers! Spoilers! Spoilers!

okay so

"Experiencing the illusions with Reina and seeing her scream in pain had made him feel powerful, strong, and better than her."

Callum you need help, like in the brain

"There was something there. Something dark and sour, twisting his stomach. He wished again he had his energy back. He wished he could transfer the feeling to her. He wanted her to hurt for even daring to accuse him of being mean. He knew he was mean, that wasn’t the issue. Rhodes made it seem like it was something bad, something he did on purpose and had full control over. That little girl knew nothing of the world yet."

You. Need. Help.

(This is so in character!!!! Oh my gosh I love it!!)

“God, Parisa was right. You act all tough and mean but actually, you’re just insecure and lonely,” 

FAAAAACTS! This had me rolling on the floor laughing.

Also, Callum being a jealous baby because Nico and Tristan sometimes *gasp* talk to each other!! Woooahhh, I know Callum it must be sooooo hard for you.

I love it.

"Nico didn’t look up at him, to Callum’s dismay. He wanted to kiss Tristan in front of his face again."

Please the last time Nico witnessed Novacaine he nearly drowned himself, you can't do that to him again Callum

"Nico opened his mouth to protest and Callum was waiting for it, honestly. He wished for Nico to protest and beg for Tristan’s attention. He wanted Tristan to reject him, right to his face, and see it was Callum he was rejecting him for—the one he had wished dead not too long ago."

Callum I want to fold you into a box and jump on you and then frame your squashed remains and sacrifice children in your honour

Also,

Libby: You are in pain, you need to let others in and stop pushing those that care about you away

Callum: I will solve my pain by having sex, that will fix everything

ALSO

Tristan flexing the fact that he's strong enough to carry Callum lololol king behaviour

"Tristan had a good body. There wouldn’t be a lot of people who wouldn’t agree that he was attractive. If Callum would separate Tristan’s body from his soul, he would still find him hot. But then Tristan looked back at him, both cocky and hesitant. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned down to press a kiss to Callum’s temple. Those were the things that made the fire in Callum’s belly turn hot. The certain way he did things, the way he spoke in a low voice, the way he would smile and look at him from the corner of his eye, were the things Callum lusted over."

You are in love with him

"Callum shot him an annoyed look and made grabby hands at him."

HA!

Also the notes

[Image ID: A screenshot of the notes that reads: "hehe maybe atlas should finally show up now or something. otherwise these two will just keep fucking" /.End ID]

Atlas Six Vacation? More like Novacaine fuck station!

*gets booed as people throw tomatoes at me*

I know, I know, I'll be here all week

GO READ THIS FIC

[panfluidme]

Growin' Up Wrong (Donnie's Story)

Master Post

(Gwen is Donnie's birthname since his character is AFAB)

CHAPTER ONE: THE O'NEILS

After a few weeks, Lou Jitsu found two cloaking crystals. One was an earring for himself and the other was a little bracelet for the little turtle he had. He decided to name the little girl Gwen and to start going by the name Splinter.

Splinter knew he could have gone with Yoshi, his birth name, or stuck with Lou, his stage name. But he didn't want to follow the Hamato destiny he was given with the name Yoshi. And he wanted to leave the acting world behind so he can raise his daughter. Meaning, Lou Jitsu had to be left behind.

Little Gwen was the most important thing in Splinter's life now.

Splinter found a nice little apartment for the two of them. The apartment was a two bedroom flat. Across the hall from the two's place was a family of three.

So, after settling in, Splinter decided to go meet his neighbors with his daughter. Holding her in his arms, he left his flat and walked to his hallway mates.

He knocked on the door then adjusted Gwen. She did not like being held and wanted to be put down.

"I'll put you down in a bit, Gwen," Splinter promised softly.

Gwen groaned, tugging on Splinter's black hair. Splinter gasped out and nearly dropped Gwen.

Soon, the door opened. "Hello."

"Hello. I just moved in across the hall."

The woman at the door smiled warmly. "I'm Carol O'Neil. Come on in."

"Thank you. You can call me Splinter." Splinter walked into the apartment. "And this is my daughter Gwen."

"She's adorable. How old is she?"

"Gwen, do you wanna tell Carol how old you are?"

Gwen looked at Splinter then held up two fingers.

"You're two?"

Gwen nodded and hid her face in Splinter's neck. She didn't like meeting new people, and she didn't know how to speak. Splinter was working on teaching her, but she refused to start learning.

"I'm going to get my daughter, April. She's four."

Splinter set Gwen down, who nodded silently. Carol went to grab April while Gwen started wandering around the small living room. Splinter kept a close eye on her, making sure she didn't touch anything.

Soon, Carol returned with her daughter in her arms. She set April down and gently patted her back. "April, this is Splinter and Gwen. They live across the hall."

April waddled over to Gwen and smiled. "Hewwo!"

Gwen tilted her head at April then smiled toothily. Splinter crouched next to them, gently patting Gwen's head. Gwen glared at him, opening her mouth and attempting to bite him. He quickly pulled his hand away.

"We don't bite people, okay?" Splinter looked at April. "Just so you know, Gwen doesn't speak. She does sometimes make chirping noises."

April nodded and smiled at Gwen. "That otay. We can play till!"

Gwen smiled back and nodded. The two started chasing each other, both giggling. Splinter and Carol sat on the couch.

"My husband is at work. I was just about to start looking for a babysitter as I recently got a job myself."

"I could babysit her. I don't have a job, so I can take care of her."

"How are you able to afford your place?"

"I'm a retired actor, so the royalties from my movies."

"You are?" Carol sounded surprised to learn that.

Splinter nodded. "I am."

"What movies were you in?"

"Well, I was Lou Jitsu, so every Lou Jitsu movie." Splinter rubbed the back of his neck. "But some stuff happened and I decided that life isn't for me anymore."

"Oh wow. Your disappearance was all over the news. Everything thought you were dead."

"I am lucky to be alive, yes."

Carol smiled weakly. "I can pay you to babysit April."

"No, no. I can watch over her, no problem."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Chapter Two