#i don't know rachel but she's probably not straight
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paleprincessturtle · 8 months ago
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harvey fic request! :) maybe they get in a spat about harvey getting jealous or a miscommunication but then they fix it and then super fluffy
Hiiii!!! Thank you so much for the request and I'm so so so so sorry it took so long for me to continue writing here. Life been tough but here I am. Enjoy❤️
The Greenest
When Harvey received a phone call from Mike, he was happy, to say the least. But upon hearing what he had to say, Harvey sighed. There was this charity in Seattle, and both Mike and Rachel invited him. Harvey dodged the question by saying that he had to ask his wife. It wasn't that Harvey didn't want to donate his money for a good cause, but he rarely spent time with his wife now. He just wanted to stay home and do absolutely nothing with his wife in his arms. He could just write a check for it and make up some excuse later.
Harvey got home to Pink Floyd blasted through the house. He couldn't help but hum along with the song. It would be useless, he thought, to call out for his wife. He found her in their bedroom, a few dresses draped on the bed as she stood in front of her kingdom of shoes. "Are we going somewhere?" Harvey asked casually as he took off his suit. She jumped at his voice, eyes wide. "You scared the living hell out of me," she said, reaching for her phone to turn down the volume of the speaker. "Well, I suggest you shouldn't give your husband a spare key, then." Harvey rolled up his sleeves as he observed the dresses. "We're going somewhere?" Harvey asked again. "Oh yes! Mike and Rachel invited us to this charity gala. It's for abused women and children. Can you imagine?" Harvey watched as his wife's face scrunched in sadness. He swore this woman wouldn't even hurt a fly. "It's in Seattle?" Harvey asked again as she earned an eager nod. Well played, Mike, Harvey thought. Going straight to his wife. Well played. "We sure can come, yes?" Harvey looked at his wife, knowing damn well it wasn't a question. He nodded and smiled. 
Harvey's favorite thing to do whenever he went out with his wife was to watch her get ready. He watched his wife put on matching underwear in black, all lacey. He stole a glance at his watch as his brain raced at the possibility of tempting his goddess of a wife for a little fun activity. "Don't think about it, Harvey." His wife scolded him as she watched him from the unreasonably huge mirror in their hotel room. "Think about what?" Harvey asked, pretending to be clueless. "Think about taking off my underwear, bending me over, having your way with me, being late, and what excuse should you give Mike for being late?" Harvey smirked at the sultry way his wife said it. "We've been in this dance before, Harvey. I will not fall for it again. Now, why won't you be a nice gentleman and zip my dress?"
"Jeez, Harvey. Didn't you arrive at the hotel yesterday? This whole thing started an hour ago!" Mike scolded Harvey, who gave him a knowing look. "Seriously?" Mike gave him a disgusted look, and not long after, his wife came along. Mike hugged her and thanked her for coming. He then managed to explain this charity he and Rachel are now part of. He also said it would be good for the charity to know two successful New York lawyers are here, siding with the charity. It just meant more money for the charity. Which was great.
Not long after, Rachel came, and she gave them brief hugs. She managed the whole event, so Rachel was running around as she made sure that nothing went awry. The three of them were having a good time. They talked about what was going on in their lives. Harvey probably would have to admit that this wasn't an entirely bad idea to come. Mike nudged Harvey, "There, that's the city attorney. Let's put that pretty face to good use." Harvey looked back at his wife, signaling for her to come along. "I need to go to pee; I'll look for you later." Harvey smiled at her as he followed Mike.
Harvey just realized that his wife was never to find him. It had been 20 minutes; surely she didn't need that long. Harvey tried to look around. He squinted his eyes at the sight of his wife, who happened to look way too comfortable with a man he had never seen before but was somewhat familiar. A man her age. Harvey frowned as he hurriedly excused himself. He made a beeline to where his wife stood but slowed down his pace when he was near. "Oh Jackson, you know how it is in New York," Harvey heard his wife laugh not long after. "Well, then maybe you should consider moving here." Before he could hear what his wife's reply would be, Harvey stood beside her, an arm wrapped around her hip. Harvey didn't miss the way this Jackson guy's eyes followed where Harvey's hand rested. "Won't you introduce us, sweetheart?" Harvey asked a rhetorical question. She sensed something wasn't quite right with Harvey's attitude. "Jackson, this is Harvey, my husband." Harvey extended his free hand. "Harvey, this is Jackson ...." Before she could finish her sentence, he jumped in. "I'm her ex-fiance," Jackson said, shaking Harvey's hand. Harvey gave him a curt smile. "Who would have thought that Harvey Specter is your husband?" Jackson said to her, but his eyes never left Harvey's. Again, before she could say anything, Harvey said, "What can I say, Jackson? I'm immaculate, and my wife has an immaculate taste." They looked at each other for quite some time, trapped in an uncomfortable silence as the two men tried to intimidate one another. Harvey then remembered that he once went against him in court. Harvey won, of course. "Well, it was nice to meet the two of you," he was about to leave when he stopped in front of her, "especially you; I'll give you a call when I visit New York." Before he left, he touched her bare arm. And Harvey was seething. Harvey took her hand to make them face-to-face. "What the fuck was that?" Harvey said, his jaw tightening. "What the fuck was that? What the fuck was what? I was just trying to get him to donate, Harvey!" Harvey scoffed, "By flirting with your ex-fiance, who suggested you move here?" She looked at him, exasperated. "We're going back to the hotel," Harvey said quietly. He took her elbow as he guided her out of the crowd. "Harvey, we are invited here to help them raise the donation," he said, shaking his head. "We're going back to the hotel." Harvey's voice left no room for argument. Before exiting the venue, she caught a glimpse of a confused Mike. She shook her head in silence before Mike became out of view. 
The two of them were silent during the ride back to the hotel. "We're back now at the hotel, happy?" she said sharply as she took off her heels. "We could've helped more if you weren't being so childish and being all jealous!" She raised her voice, both hands on her hips. She looked at Harvey's back, and he poured himself some scotch. "If you weren't flirting like a high school girl, we would still be there." Venom laced his voice. He turned to face his wife. "Do I need to pack your things and send them here so you can get back with Jackson?" His wife shook her head in disbelief at his words. He finished the glass in seconds, opened the door, and slammed it hard. She sighed and prepared herself a bubble bath. There is no use in arguing with him now.
She woke up with the curtain open. She squinted her eyes. She was greeted with the sight of Harvey sitting in a chair just beside the bed. "Hey, sunny," Harvey said softly. She didn't say anything or react; she just stared at him. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely, she could tell. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did; I'm really working on my issues. She nodded, she knew he tried. "Did I hurt you?" he asked as he took her hand in his. He did so as if he might break her, so gently. "You did," she answered quietly. "I'm really sorry," he kissed her hand softly. "It's okay, Harvey. Just try to work on yourself harder, okay? I'm here ready to help if you need anything, but no more lashing out," she said as she caressed his cheeks. Harvey leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" Without answering, she moved over and signed for Harvey to lay beside her. 
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jointherebellion215 · 8 months ago
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Birdie
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John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.
Word Count: 2.9k
Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"
A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)
You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!
Songs Mentioned in This Fic:
Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters
G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer
The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.
Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.
Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.
You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.
It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 
All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.
Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.
“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”
Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.
Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.
“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”
You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”
Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.
An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.
“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.
You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.
“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”
They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.
“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.
“He brings you coffee every morning.”
“I thought he does that for everyone.”
“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”
“He takes care of his appearance!”
“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”
“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”
“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”
“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”
“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”
“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”
“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”
“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”
“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”
That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.
“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.
“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.
“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 
You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.
“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.
Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 
“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.
Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 
“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.
“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”
You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 
“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”
You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.
One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 
The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.
He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way
He had a boogie style that no one else could play
He was the top man at his craft
But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft
Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.
One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.
Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,
“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”
She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 
“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”
“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 
“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”
The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 
The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.
You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.
Meanwhile…. 
Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.
“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”
Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 
As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?
A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 
Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.
DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”
“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.
I’ll catch you up
When I’ve emptied my cup
When I’ve worn out my friends
When I’ve burned out both ends
Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.
His little Birdie.
“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.
When I’m pure like a dove
When I’ve learned how to love
He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.
As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 
It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.
John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.
Then the world starts back up and carries on.
Right here in the old therebefore
When nothing is left anymore
Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 
The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.
Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 
Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.
“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.
His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.
Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.
“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”
Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.
His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.
“I know, Buck. I know.”
Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.
“She kinda snuck up on me.”
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thelikesofus · 1 year ago
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Buddie Fic Recs
AKA Talented Mutuals Tuesday
Except I spent so long making this list that the timezones changed over BUT I wanted to show my mutuals some love and now that we are going into the hiatus I thought you might all like a list of quality fics to keep you occupied while there is no new Weewoo show. 
I don't know if anyone will actually want to join in on this but if you do the rules are simple:
SHOW YOUR MUTUALS SOME LOVE! Share your favourite fics, (or gifs, edits, literally anything that your very talented mutuals have made), as many or as few as you like but let's share the love around <3
Apologises in advance for the long post btw
@speaknowdiaz I would literally read anything that April writes and would probably sell a limb for the incredible WIPs I know she's still cooking up but here are a couple of my faves:
pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend)
Buck challenges Eddie to try to hit on him after teasing Eddie for not having any ‘game’. This fic is very funny and very soft.
believe in one thing (i won't go away)
This fic hit me straight in the feels. Buck and Eddie go to couples therapy even though they aren't a couple and they work through some stuff.
@thosetwofirefighters Incredible amazing Nat ily xx
Say It All Out Loud
Eddie comes out to Aunt Pepa after his ‘date’ with Vanessa. I am a little bit biased towards this one because she did write it for me but it's honestly just so good!
How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition
The 118 are stuck at the firehouse during a slow shift and Buck entertains them all by mattress-surfing the loft stairs. It’s soft and silly and in the same universe as her other fic Safe in His Arms.
@loveyourownsmiilee The wonderful amazing Juju not only writes incredible meta and keeps us all fed with Oliver content but Juju also writes wonderful buddie fic. 
When Were You Under Me?
Who doesn’t love a Friends AU. This is Buck and Eddie as Ross and Rachel and it is hilarious and so sweet. 
You should also check out her Buddie Language Meta if you have not read it before <3
@elvensorceress Jenwyn’s work always astounds me so be sure to check these out:
Color Him Father, Color Him Love
I will scream from the rafters how much I adore this fic and yes it did make me cry (happy tears). It’s a look into Buck’s head after his sperm donor kid is born and he realizes what Christopher (and Eddie) truly mean to him. I know I have recced this before but it deserves all the love. 
Unless You Ask Me To
Eddie dates a man for the first time, and Buck is completely 'Fine'. This is a preemptive rec because it is one chapter away from completion and I have been saving it to binge in one sitting but knowing Jenwyn and her incredible talent I guarantee this will be worth the read. 
@spotsandsocks If anyone’s work is guaranteed to make me sob like a baby (happy, sad, or tears of laughter) it’s Spotty. 
Everything But (temptation)
This is Spotty’s newest fic and it's just brilliant. Buck is practicing extreme self-control whilst Eddie is being an irresistible menace. 
Could Have, Should Have, Would Have
Buck finally tells Eddie he loves him right before Eddie’s new boyfriend is supposed to meet Christopher. Honestly, all I can say about this fic is that it’s a masterpiece and I screamed many times while reading it. 
@shortsighted-owl Wonderful amazing Owly (Abbi). I appreciate you so and you make my dash so happy xx
Of foam-moustached kisses, and button combinations
For all your sweet domestic buddie needs this is the fic. Eddie is practicing a video game to get better than Chris and Buck makes fun of his ex-technophobe boyfriend. 
Also THIS EDIT SET to the lyrics of You’re All That I Have by Snow Patrol make me assdffgghjjklkll
@lilbuddie Okay, this one is just a brag because Minja doesn’t actually have any fics published yet (side eye) but I wanna make sure she is on everyone’s radar for when she does because yall are not ready for the incredible amazing talent that is this girl’s writing!! So go check out the snippets on her Tumblr and badger her until she finishes something plssssss
@wheelsupin-five Hi! <3
Almost Almost Almost
This adorable of Buck who is always cold and Eddie warms him up I– asfffghhjkklllll
Under Kitchen Light
SO SOFT! Buck wakes up and Eddie isn't there, Buck finds him in the kitchen. 
@rogerzsteven Simi owns my heart and by that I mean my heart is locked in a cage in Simi’s basement where it is occasionally beaten to a pulp by the most incredibly angsty fics you've ever read.
Cleanse
Buck is extremely nauseous and Eddie takes care of him while I sob over them in a corner.
build me a home underground (free from light and sound)
This fic is so brutal in all the best ways, my heart was in my throat the entire read! Buck gets trapped in a sensory deprivation room while the 118 and Athena race to find him. 
@ashavahishta another incredibly talented mutual of mine
out of ashes
Is it really a Meegs rec list if I don’t rec this fic honestly it's engraved on my soul. This is a criminal minds/greys inspired fic where Buck is kidnapped and tortured until the 118 can find him. This fic is so so well written and means a million things to me I could never explain but pleaseeeee read it!! 
@jobairdxx hello lovely xx
Oh, We Pray to Make it Through the Night
Highly recommend this fic, I do love a near-death experience fic! Buck gets injured on a call and Eddie falls asleep holding vigil at his bedside. 
Jules also writes beautiful poetry on Tumblr so go read some of that too <3
@monsterrae1 MISS RAE! YOU INCREDIBLE THING! <3
love is on its way
I know we’re all a little bit in mourning over the couch theory but it lives on in our hearts and in this fic which has six moments between Buck and Eddie on the Diaz couch (and she’s a wee bit spicy too).
Buck's café (take my heart, just not my order)
Coffee Shop AU. Buck runs the shop where the 118 order all their drinks on shift. I absolutely adore this fic! 
@alyxmastershipper RYAN!! INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUTUAL THAT YOU ARE!! 
there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head
If “aasdsdfghhjkl” was a person it was me reading this fic. Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.
@bekkachaos Wonderful, amazing Bekka xxx
lose yourself in the feeling
I am a sucker for ‘accidental kisses’ and this was just wonderful. Buck is so excited about Maddie and Chim getting engaged that he kisses Eddie when he tells him. 
start me up, open my eyes
Okay, the mild sexual content tag is a lie, nothing has ever been closer to smut without actually being smut than this fic, I have never been so wound up reading a fic. Bekka builds the tension so so well. 
@sibylsleaves honestly I'm still a little in shock that we're mutuals now so please excuse me while I fangirl over your incredible writing!
with a bird at your door
Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him. This fic is the perfect mixture of pining, angst, and a happy ending. And yes I think about this fic frequently I love it okay. 
@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy last but certainly not least (for now). hello lovely xx
(tell the gravedigger) better dig two
Missing scenes from while eddie is trapped in the well followed by the most perfect extended reunion scene. We all know I am a sucker for fics based on the well incident, it’s literally how i started writing for buddie but omg this fic!!!! 
Remember to share the love around and happy hiatus to you all.
Love, Meegs xxxx
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masonmount-vii · 2 months ago
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It'll Make Sense One Day
Part One
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april fifteenth
It's wedding season.
Y/N turns the blush pink envelope over and over in her hands, debating on whether or not to open.
Miss Y/N L/N is written in pretty, loopy cursive on the front, followed by your address. There's no return address, but you'd recognise your best friend's hand writing.
You already knows what it is.
"There's going to be a surprise from Scott and I in the post next week!" You remembered your best friend, Rachel chirping over the phone last week. "Oh silly me! I shouldn't have said that, because now you probably know what it is! Pretend i never told you!"
You, however, don't know why you are hesitant on opening the envelope.
Probably because then you'll have to acknowledge that all of your friends are getting married despite that you're still single, a voice that sounds suspiciously like your older sisters shrills.
You tear open the envelope and pull out the card inside. It isn't a card. necessarily, not one that opens or closes, like it would for a birthday.
Save The Date.
The glossy postcard-sized announcement reads in white script. Below is a picture of your best friend, Rachel, and her fiancé, Scott, on a mountain somewhere, a large expanse of valleys and sky behind them as they laugh. There's a rather large diamond ring on Rachel’s finger; you can't see it, you know it's there.
Rachel + Scott: 15/08/2024, the rest of the card says, and you take a moment to take it to the front of your fridge using a magnet to stick it on.
It's not like you are going to forget about this wedding; it's all Rachel has been talking about for the past month, ever since Scott proposed. At first, you had been enthusiastic; getting married is a big, exciting step, and you were genuinely excited for your girl.
But the more Rachel goes on about this wedding, the less you find yourself wanting to go. You know that all of your happily married friends are going to be there, and you're still single, have been for longer than you'd like to admit.
You wonder if you'll have to bring a plus one. If you do, It's not like you have anyone to bring.
Is there some sort of website people can use for this? Like a dating website, but for people who need plus one's for weddings?
You find yourself googling it and aren't too heartbroken when such a thing doesn't exist.
You'd known it would've been a long shot anyways.
Later on in the afternoon, you're making yourself dinner when your phone rings. You put it on speaker as you stir the pasta for your dinner.
"Hello?"
"Did you get our Save The Dates?" Rachel asks, straight to the point, her voice loud and excited on the other end.
You dare to laugh, despite feeling like that's the absolute last thing you want to be doing right now. "Yeah, I did. They're very cutesy. How does Scott feel about them?"
"Oh, I don't think he really cares. He just said that they could look like however I wanted to design them, as long as our families got them."
Does he care about anything when it comes to the wedding? You think, but there's no way in hell you'd ever say that.
"Do i need to bring a plus one?"
"You don't have to, but it would be nice. In fact, do you want me to set you up with a few guys in the months leading up to the wedding? That could be fun!"
"I'll pass," You tell her with a laugh.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
Rachel is her best friend, but before she met Scott, she was a little misguided when it comes to guys, and dating.
Not only when it came to guys, you think, but when it came to setting you up with guys, as well.
There was this one guy that Rachel set you up in our first year of university. His name was Nick and he refused to pay for your dinner in addition to his, so he basically expected you to pay for both of your dinners but you put your foot down and made a deal on paying for our own dinner. And to top it off he wouldn't even give you a ride home, so you had to call Rachel to come pick you up.
"Well, if you want to bring someone, you certainly can, Y/N," the future Mrs Hamilton is saying, and you don't know if that's a suggestion or something she's going to keep bringing up in future conversations.
You fight the urge to roll your eyes even though Rachel can't see you so it wouldn't be a big deal.
"The wedding isn't for another four months," you are gently reminded at the end of the phone call, so you know you have time to find a plus one.
It's just a matter of how.
And then, you get an idea.
-
The next morning you are woken up by your phone going off.
It's the kind of wake-up when you hear a noise and it's just the right volume to startle you awake, which you don't like.
You had forgotten to shut off your ringer last night, and the single ping must've been what woke you up.
TINDER: you have a message from Alex! the screen notifies you as you glance at it.
Who sends a message at seven in the morning? you speculate after seeing the time, and then you had pick up your phone anyway to see what Alex had said.
You had created a profile shortly before you fell asleep, in a stroke of genius so rare that you don't know where it came from or if it'll happen again. You had found four of your best pictures, typed out a relatively short bio (purposefully leaving out the reason why you had made the account in the first place: you didn't want people to think you were too weird), and then ser out to start swiping on guys.
Alex was 27 and he was the first guy you had matched with, except you couldn't figure out what to say.
Do you lead with the whole 'i need a date to best friends wedding so that all of my non-single friends could get off my back', or would that scare him off?
So, you decided to not say anything about it. While you weren't sure if he was the one, you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. Alex was average looking, with chesnut coloured hair that stuck straight up and he had dark brown eyes.
You know that you aren't looking for love, as most of the people on her are (well, not real love anyway). A fake boyfriend perhaps?
The point being, you didn't want to get too attached, because you aren't expecting anything.
Your eyes skim to Alex's message, and you try to decide if it deserves a reply.
I think your eyes are really pretty.
That's it? you think glumly. You'd always been a hopeless romantic, someone who believes in love at first sight (or, in this case, love at first swipe) and you feel somewhat let down when average Alex sends you an average message.
Then again, what did you expect, in all honesty? The perfect guy to send you the perfect message on the first try?
That's not likely to happen.
Thank you! You reply, and then you slightly regret it, because even though Rachel's wedding isn't until August, you really don't have time to waste, and you aren't sure that you want him to be your date.
Just give him a chance, Y/N. You're not agreeing to anything.
Plus, there's a small part of you that hopes you'll find something other than just a plus one to this wedding.
The next message Alex sends you is two days later, as you're sitting at your desk at work.
It's shortly after nine in the morning, and you're working on next weeks article for the fashion blog that you work for.
You forget about it until an hour and a half later when you're having your break.
Y/N, huh? Is that short for something? the message reads.
You laugh at first but then you stop when you realise that average Alex is serious, which prompts you to type back a no, Y/N isn't short for anything, only then wondering if you had been too harsh as you press end.
You spend the rest of your lunch break swiping on a few guys; it takes you a while to decide whether or not you'll swipe on them in the first place, because in order for this fake plus one thing to work, it has to be believable.
You aren't yet sure if you want Rachel to know that the way you are going to find a date to the wedding is through Tinder.
None of the guys that you swipe on match with you, but when you check your phone later that evening, you see that a few of them swiped right in the hours that you weren't looking at your phone.
One of them may even be the one you end up taking to the wedding, but neither of them know that yet.
-
Thank you so much for reading, I’m hoping you’ll continue to stick around 💓 next part will be 28/08/2024!
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rinasunny · 1 year ago
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The Lavatory scene in Red Eye's final shooting script and the movie
One of my previous posts was about how much the first script draft of Red Eye differed from the final product. The draft discussed in this post is more or less final. This draft has all the changes made after Rachel and Cillian were cast as leads and after the test screenings. But there are still some features which didn't make the cut into the final product. I'm not gonna analyse the whole script here, but shippers' favorite scene - the lavatory scene. Yeah, you can always rely on this scene to bring some juicy stuff.
SPOILERS AHEAD
Okay let's start from the moment Lisa enters the bathroom alone.
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Frankly speaking, for now, I prefer the movie version. Especially the line "Okay, get up" instead of "Oh my God..." Wes Craven said in the DVD commentary about this moment:
This was tricky, between making her totally collapse, but not have her totally pathetic. And she very quickly gets herself under control.
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Next, there is an interesting description of Rippner:
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Also, the message on the mirror was meant to be revealed slightly earlier, but whatever.
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I'm not sure about Rippner's lines here, because half of it is barely audible in the film. Also quite ironic that the underlined part is not in the movie at all.
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Okay, now really important stuff starts kicking in. Rippner practically spills out the fact that he is ATTRACTED to Lisa right at her face. The script makes it clear, that she now knows this and tries to use his attraction (and his regret) to persuade him to give up on Keefe assassination plan. Funny enough, she almost succeeds until he notices her scar. Personally, I think "You're beautiful..." line (and hair brushing) should have stayed in the final cut. Not only for the sake of the ship, but for the fact that without it Lisa's "You don't have to do this" sounds really naive.
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Some of you may argue that this is all relevant for the movie, they just made it more subtle. Well, Movie-Lisa's best guess that Movie-Rippner might be attracted to her is the way Cillian looks at Rachel. On one hand many people point out that they do have chemistry and sexual tension, on the other the movie on its own leaves watchers to wonder whether the characters had any romantic feelings towards each other or not. And I probably stumbled upon a comment on YouTube, which interpreted the "You don't have to do this" line more as "You're so pretty, why do you have to be evil?" (or something along these lines)
Also I think that clarification would make Lisa a more nuanced character (by the fact that she tries to manipulate a villain into giving up on his villainy).
Also, as you may have noticed, the scar was meant to be on her neck, makes sence, given her backstory (He held a knife to my throat). I guess they moved it down just so Rippner wouldn't notice it earlier (though the script also mentions, that Lisa was meant to wear a sweater). I, personally, on the back of my horny mind, think he wasn't looking for scar when he gazed on her breast ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).
A little note: Script-Lisa looks away saying "No" while Rachel looks straight into his eyes, but starts trembling instead.
By the way, Rippner wasn't meant to slam and choke her just yet.
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I guess he just let her out to wipe out the messege. Here Lisa gives up on conving him.
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Only after he finished wiping he starts to choke her. Also, pay CLOSE ATTENTION on what Rippner's lips do here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Yep, he almost kisses her.
I guess the changes movie made here were for the sake of pacing.
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Another important difference: Rippner fixes both their outlooks to be more presentable. Lisa protests a bit.
I guess the movie crew decided they don't need to fix their look that much.
Also, I prefer the movie's "Peachy" instead of just "Good", though both lines are in the movie lol.
On the final note, I guess "Thanks for the quickie" line makes a bit more sence given we have Rippner's crawling lips there ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).
So, these were the differences of the lavatory scene between the script and the movie. Hope you had as much shipping excitement as I did.
P.S: The link to the script. If you're a fan I strongly suggest to download it, it may easily become a lost media, like an earlier draft.
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whimsicalcotton · 3 months ago
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36 on the kiss meme?
36 - to give up control
you didn't give me a particular ship so i'm gonna take the liberty of providing myself w more apf because i. am insatiable.
^^^ that's what i said before i started writing and then i got lost in the amberfield sauce. like actually idk what came over me but i straight up just wrote 4.5k of pointless/shameless rachel&max flirting and then took Several days to edit it. sorry? sorry.
--- --- ---
Max Caulfield likes to be sure of herself before she tries something. 
Like, super extra mega double absolutely positively one hundred percent sure. It's caused some problems over the years, and maybe everyone else finds it somewhat irksome, but she needs at least some degree of certainty if she has any hope of working past that initial burst of anxiety that so often arises at the mere thought of doing something unfamiliar. So she tends to stick to the sidelines. Asking a lot of questions she hardly puts to use, watching on as others are able to effortlessly do things she can scarcely bring herself to imagine. 
Chloe's been helping her out with it. Or at least attempting to. Serving as the (mostly) gentle push Max needs to step out of her comfort zone, trying to teach her how to be a little more impulsive, but always remaining patient and reassuring when Max finds herself in over her head or chickening out. 
And then there's Rachel.
Rachel helps in a… different way. Max thinks she overheard Chloe calling it, “throwing her to the wolves,” in a conversation that probably wasn't meant for her ears. 
Whatever it is, it’s how Max finds herself in the blaring lights and veritable sea of drunken bodies known as a party. But it's fine. It's been fine. She’s just been hanging onto Chloe for dear life and trying to remember how to talk like a normal person whenever someone spoke to them. No biggie, no problem.
And then they lost Rachel. And Chloe's immediate response was, “Goddamnit, not again.” That definitely added a few points to the metaphorical uncertainty metre. 
Though they still had fun off on their own for a bit. Chloe even mixed her one of those infamous red solo cup drinks, so she's getting a good grade in acting like a normal high-schooler tonight; something that is totally not weird of her to want and surprisingly difficult to achieve. It sort of helped and sort of made it worse that Chloe kept checking in with her every so often, looking at her like she was expecting Max to crack at any second. 
Max misses the looks. She realizes it as she's wandering through yet another unfamiliar hallway, semi-frantically looking around whatever rooms she finds, having now lost both Rachel and Chloe. She doesn't know half the faces here, let alone names, so if anyone has to be looking at her she'd really, really prefer it be Chloe. 
Alas, for the moment it's just a bunch of strangers’ gazes darting over to her every time she pokes her head into a room, searing into her skin even if only a momentary glance. Not to mention everything everywhere is so goddamn loud. Like, unreasonably loud. I don't know how anyone else's ears aren't bleeding loud. Even in rooms where the music is barely audible, there's chatting and laughing and a hundred conversations all happening at once. And don't even get her started on the lights downstairs.
She's just beginning to debate the merits of tearing her hair out over everything when she nearly crashes into yet another girl she doesn't know. 
“Sorry,” she squeaks out, wincing at the sound of her voice. “M-My bad. I didn’t mean to.”
The stranger beams down at her. “Hey, no worries. I saw you come in with Rachel, didn't I?”
Max nods vigorously before realizing she probably looks ridiculous and uttering an, “Uhm, yeah,” in its place. “Have you seen her?”
“Looking for her, huh? Aren't we all. She's pretty slippery when she wants to be.” The stranger leans in to put an arm around Max's shoulder, and she goes rigid as a board under the touch. “Come with me, I think I saw her over this way not that long ago.”
“You think?” Max asks, half in earnest and half in reactionary grouchiness. 
“Ooh, the puppy can bite,” answers the stranger, grinning at her with a hungry gleam in her eye. Max gulps. “Have a little faith in me. I've partied with Rachel before, I know where she likes to hang out.”
Max can feel her face going red. Maybe those stupid bright colored lights could actually be helpful right now. 
Thankfully the very touchy stranger does actually know what she's doing, and it doesn't take too much walking and weaving through the crowd to find a certain flannel-clad blonde. She's at the head of a table full of people playing cards, and Max has no idea what they're playing but it sure looks like Rachel is winning. She's got her signature big, bright, confident smile plastered across her face, and there's a pile of loose change, cigarettes, and joints off in her corner of the table; next to a small stack of empty solo cups. 
“Hey, Rach,” the stranger calls over to her, one arm still wrapped around Max. “Is this your lost puppy I've found?”
Everyone turns to look at her. Max’s face goes hot and she isn't sure if all the ensuing smiles are genuine or mocking and she still doesn't even know the name of the girl draped over her and –
“Maxie!” Rachel's voice is just as bright and boisterous as her winner's grin, and she too has taken to Chloe’s habit of calling her almost every iteration of her name under the sun. But Max is sort of grateful for it right now. “C’mere and watch me wipe the floor with these guys. We're almost done with this game.” 
The whole table grumbles in protest to Rachel's gloating, but Max doesn't need to be told twice. She ducks out of the stranger's grip and rushes to Rachel's side, half hidden behind her. She lets out a shakey sigh of relief, knowing there's at least a cap on her nerves now that she's near someone familiar. Usually Chloe is her designated safe person, but she's in no state to be picky, and next to Rachel feels about as safe as she can manage right now. 
Rachel looks back to give her a softer, sweeter smile before turning to the girl who brought her here. “My puppy,” she snaps, in full seriousness. “Paws off.”
The girl holds her hands up in mock defense and gives Rachel a scoff, turning to leave. 
“Sorry,” she tells Max in a laugh. “A girl's gotta stake her claim. She'd eat you up if I didn't.” 
Max chokes on nothing. “She'd what?”
“You heard me,” Rachel answers, pulling some cards from her hand and dropping her offering of cigarettes into the new betting pool at the centre of the table without really paying attention, practically playing with her eyes closed. “You are absolutely fucking adorable, after all.” 
Max short circuits for a minute while she tries to process the sentiment. A chorus of groans and grievances circle the table. 
“Goddamnit, again?”
“What are you a fucking wizard?”
“C'mon, Rach, you're bleeding me dry here.” 
“She barely even looked at her fucking cards! What the hell!” 
Rachel answers them all with that dazzling smile, tone honeyed and blithe. “I can't help that Lady Luck favors me so.” She nods towards Max beside her. “Especially now that I have my good luck charm with me. Back out while you still can.” 
That's something about Rachel that Max can't help but admire. That damn silver tongue, effortlessly charming and always sharp enough to quip back with ease. She's somehow bolder when she's been drinking, if such a thing is even possible. So far Max has only ever dealt with the aftermath of drunk-Rachel, she's never actually been around to watch it in action. She can see why the girl is often considered the life of the party, bouncing from conversation to conversation without a hitch and still managing to make a show of shuffling the deck all the while. 
“Where’s Chloe? Weren’t you guys sticking together?” 
Max startles back to attention, still disoriented from being off on her own and maybe the slightest bit buzzed from what little she had to drink earlier. She finds Rachel staring up at her with those all too alluring hazel eyes of hers. Maybe Max doesn't mind her looking, either. 
To say it's a struggle to get her voice working would be an understatement. “We were. And then we went looking for you and I– I got lost.”
Rachel hums as if considering a particularly tough equation. “Ah, I see, I see. Well, come sit with me for a bit. Chloe will find us eventually.”
Max raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure?” 
“Poor, sweet, Maximilian,” Rachel replies in her infamous Shakespearean drama voice. “Always so caught up in the pesky certainties of life. Sit, have a drink, see for yourself if I'm sure or not.” 
When Max continues standing there staring at her like a very confused fish out of water, Rachel offers her best impersonation of Chloe by grinning like a great, joyful fool and moving to tug Max down into her lap. Both hands gripping her small waist, relishing in the startled little eep it earns her. 
“C’mon, Caulfield. Live a little.” She drops her voice to a murmur, husky and low and so close to Max’s ear that she could probably nibble on it if she wanted to. Not that Max is thinking about that or anything. “You’ll be fine. I'll look after you, promise.” 
Max shivers and she knows that Rachel can feel every second of it, that she's enjoying it. For a minute still she debates what to do, but as much as she wants to find Chloe, Max also doesn’t want to get up and risk losing track of Rachel again. Besides, she’s probably right. Chloe will find them eventually. She shouldn’t get so caught up in knowing every last detail ahead of time, that’s the whole point of why they brought her here. Like Rachel said, she should live a little.
So she takes in a breath of that jasmine perfume Rachel's so fond of, tries to relax in her hold, and asks what game they’re playing.
Rachel is all too happy to talk her through it as she deals everyone’s hand, putting an unequivocally silly amount of theatrics into her explanation, not that that stops everybody from hanging onto her every word. Even if most of them have undoubtedly heard the whole spiel before. Max then proceeds to watch her demolish everyone at another few rounds, midway through which someone brings them both a refill of something fruity and red.
“You made mine a double, right?” Rachel calls after them.
“They’re both doubles,” they answer with an enthusiastic thumbs up and a foolish grin, before disappearing back into the crowd outside.
“Sorry about that,” Rachel offers with a half bashful, half guilty expression. “Don't worry if you can't finish yours, I'll take it.” She pauses for a moment, laughs to herself. “Although it would be kinda fun to see you go wild for once.” 
And Max, perhaps incentivized by all the physical affection or perhaps looking for a way to enjoy it without feeling like she's going to blow up, takes that as a challenge. “It's okay,” she assures, with far too much determination for her own good, a hamfisted plot to impress already forming in her mind. “I can handle it.”
First things first, she takes a massive gulp of whatever was just handed to her. Then, instead of whatever the hell she thought she was gonna do, she grimaces like she just swallowed a brick. 
Rachel laughs, a brilliant, golden sound that serves as higher reward than Max could ever hope for. “Easy there, tiger,” she says, holding Max a little tighter, closer. “You’ve gotta pace yourself.” 
“Sorry,” Max splutters in return. “I'm not used to this.” 
“I can tell.” Rachel laughs again, this one slow and syrupy; eyes roaming Max’s face with reckless abandon. “Don’t worry, I think it's cute.” 
“Jesus, get a room,” one of the boys at the table huffs. “I thought we were playing cards here.” 
“I'm in one,” Rachel replies without missing a beat, delightfully glib and sounding far too proud of herself. “And I think you mean losing at cards here. Read ‘em and weep, fellas.” 
She lays her cards out for everyone to see with decidedly cocky flair, all but basking in the latest bout of cursing her name to fly around the table. She offers Max a victory toast, giggling once more at the girl's sour expression and knocking back half of her own drink without even flinching. By the time Rachel actually comes out of a round empty handed, they've had so many victory toasts that Max can't remember just how long they've been here. Long enough that she's been able to arrange their hoard of treasure into several smaller piles. Long enough that the sensory onslaught she'd been so arduously fighting through feels a thousand miles away.
Drinking makes everything a little fuzzier, makes all the lights and sounds and staring a little more bearable. It also destroys her sense of time and makes her approximately a thousand percent more likely to say something stupid. But it's not all bad. She manages to crack a few jokes that have everyone laughing, and as the minutes march on and the drinks keep magically appearing beside her on the table, Max finds herself growing bolder.
“Looks like your hot streak is finally over,” someone says to Rachel as the round comes to end, slurring their words and leering over at her in premature triumph. 
Max watches in equal parts concern and entertainment as Rachel swings her latest cup around a bit dangerously. “Hey, don't count me out just yet,” she huffs, sneaking a sip between sentences. “Max, quick, give me a kiss for good luck.” 
And instead of questioning it, instead of stammering and getting all flustered, Max leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek. Which is bold by her standards. She's still a bit shy about kissing either of them, but especially Rachel. She's just so intimidatingly pretty, and nice, and way, way out of Max's league. Sometimes she still doesn't understand why Rachel was even willing to be in this little triangle relationship with her, let alone be the one to suggest it in the first place. But when a gift horse opens, you don't look it in the mouth. Or something like that. 
And why not try and be a little brave for once? That's what all the liquid courage was for, after all.
But Rachel, as Max has often heard, is someone who isn't afraid to ask for more, more, more. Even as the alcohol robs her of some of her usual eloquence. “I meant tongue luck,” she says, complete with an admittedly adorable and endearingly earnest pout. 
For a minute, the nervousness returns tenfold. A thousand worries and wonders swirl around her head and she can't help but think of all the eyes on them, all the pressure, all the ways she could mess this up. All the ways she could disappoint. If it's all just meant to be a joke and she's taking it way too seriously and getting herself worked up over nothing again. 
But then she's looking at Rachel and Rachel's looking at her and Max is drunker than she's ever been and suddenly none of it matters anymore. Suddenly, she doesn’t need to be sure of anything other than the fact that she’s the lucky one for getting to be so close to Rachel. Before she can talk herself out of it, Max takes the girl’s face in both hands and kisses her. Really kisses her, just barely sliding under the bar of full stop making out as she startles back when someone at the table cheers for them. 
“I-Is that more what you had in mind?” She mumbles upon pulling away, fixing Rachel with a bashful, doe-eyed stare. She knows people must be staring again, but it’s fine. She can just look at Rachel and pretend no one else exists instead, let go of all her nerves and replace them with those sunny hazel eyes and that silky, honey-blonde hair.
And that's so, so goddamn easy it isn't even funny. 
Rachel blinks back at her, momentarily dazed, before breaking out into an expression best described as the cat who got the cream. “Yeah,” she says, half breathless, moving to ruffle Max’s hair. “Good puppy.”
Max just keeps looking at her, for a moment or two, and then she feels her face going red again as it catches up to her, so she rushes to hide in Rachel’s shoulder. “That’s mean,” she whines, piteous and small, doing absolutely nothing to help her case. “That’s so mean.”
“Duly noted,” Rachel answers with a devious little hum, and Max can picture the way she’s grinning ear to ear at the new source of teasing material. 
She reaches out over Max to grab her latest hand, and Max knows solely by the way Rachel's fingers dance along her waist that it's another good one. She tries to keep her drunken grin hidden from the silent tension of the rest of the table. The quiet won't last long, of course. Even without looking Max can count down to the oncoming clamor; four, three, two…
The person who'd been taunting Rachel a few minutes ago drops their cards down and heaves a melodramatic sigh, and the guy next to them lets out a cry of, “You fucking jinxed it, dude,” while giving them a playful shove. 
“This is madness. This is actual madness.”
“So fucking unfair. Yo, can I get some of that tongue luck over here?”
Max winds up with a fresh lungful of jasmine as Rachel wraps a protective arm around her, threading her fingers through her hair. “Nope,” she answers in Max's stead. “No way. Didn't you hear me earlier? Mine.” 
Max is learning a lot of things about herself tonight. Like how it's kind of exciting when Rachel gets territorial over her, or that the more she hears it the less she questions being likened to a puppy. Or that she apparently isn't above letting Rachel hold the cup to her lips and coax her into another victory sip after finding her own cup empty. 
Oh, and according to one of the many strangers at the table she's, ‘so light of a lightweight she should win an award.’ Rachel agrees wholeheartedly and gives Max another pat on the head, which Max was too busy enjoying to really pay attention to what they were saying. 
All in all a very educational evening. 
“I think that’s it for you tonight,” Rachel says, finishing off the rest of her cup in one swig. Max almost shudders just watching her. “Chloe will probably have my head if I get you any more wasted.”
“She’s already gonna have your head.”
Max turns to face the source of the interruption, smiling like she's just laid eyes on the sun after a long dreary winter, but Rachel scoffs and remains oblivious. 
“Says who?” she huffs, defensive and gloating. Everyone stares at the space behind her.
“Says me,” answers Chloe, arms crossed, leaning ominously over Rachel and donning an I'm so gonna kill you sort of grin. Rachel tilts her head back to look up at her. Her tone comes out sickly sweet and simmering with a hint of trouble just beneath. “And what have you two been up to while I was running around half the night wondering where the fuck you were?” 
“Winning,” Max says, without a hint of irony. In fact she can’t help but to beam with pride as she proclaims, “I’m her good luck puppy.”
Chloe blinks down at her once, twice, and then moves to pull Max up into a hug. Max hums contentedly to herself. She really is the lucky one, having not just one but two girlfriends tossing her around like a hot potato. Oh yeah, this is the life.
“There, there,” Chloe assures, probably meant in jest but Max soaks it up as if it were genuine, leaning up into Chloe's touch as the girl pets her hair. “What's reckless ol’ Rachel got done to you, huh?” 
Rachel gasps in melodramatic mock offense. “What have I done? You wound me, good sir.”
“You got Max drunk.”
“Well, you lost her.” 
“Not on purpose,” Chloe snaps back. “Pretty big distinction there, Rach.” 
“Tomato, to-mah-to.” 
Max interrupts them with the utmost confidence, even as she finds her tongue heavy and uncooperative. “Ladies, ladies, please.” Both the words themselves and the hiccup that follows them are muffled in the fabric of Chloe’s jacket, but Max doesn't move. “There’s enough a’ me to go around.”
“Oh she's smashed. Jesus, Rach, you really are a bad influence.” Chloe's probably trying to tell her off, but the effect is greatly lessened by the fact that she's audibly covering up a laugh. “Max, Maxster, Maximilian, how are you doing? How much have you–”
“Rachel already used that one tonight,” Max notes, somehow coming in too late and too early at the same time.
“... had. That answers that question.” Chloe pulls back all of a sudden and Max scrambles not to tip over. “Wait, which one? First or second?”
“Second.”
“Ugh, what? C'mon, Rach, you know I've been saving that one.”
Rachel offers her best attempt at that snake-charmer’s smile, and Max finds herself thinking that she'd never be able win an argument against her. “Yeah, sorry, it just kinda slipped out. It is pretty good.” 
“Flattery will get you nowhere now, Princess.” Chloe huffs back. “C'mon, up, both of you. I'm cuttin’ ya off.”
One of the guys lets out a cheer. “And my wallet is once again saved by the power of Rachel having a spousal dispute! Thanks, Price. You're a lifesaver.”
Rachel starts saying something about finally getting lucky only to have the competitive smirk wiped off her face by Chloe elbowing her in the side. Max dutifully gathers up the various little piles of Rachel's winnings and the two of them share a look as she hands them over. Though it must have been longer than just a glance, because the next thing Max knows Chloe is between them and has them both by the shirt collars like a pair of unruly kittens getting picked up by the scruff of the neck. 
“Well, I’d better get Romeo and Juliet over here back home before they start fucking on the table–”
“Chloe,” Max sputters, having just enough remaining wherewithal to get flustered over such a remark. 
Rachel does another one of those laughably dramatic gasps. “What kind of brute do you take me for?” She adds, far too nonchalantly, “I'd bring her to a room first. I'm not an animal.”
“Rachel,” Max squeaks, balking over at the girl with her face undoubtedly turning cherry red. Rachel offers only a drunkard’s smirk and a wink in return.
“ – And as you can see, I've got my hands full.” Chloe continues, barreling over them. 
She lets them go and gives them both a pat on the back, trying to get them to start heading out but only succeeding in sending them stumbling into each other. 
“Thanks for keepin’ an eye on ‘em for me,” she sighs. It's quickly replaced with a devilish smirk of her own as she reaches to give the guy a few rough pats on the shoulder. “Oh, and thanks for never learning your lesson when it comes to betting joints against Rachel. I'll be smoking good tonight, thanks to you.”
“Ugh, don't remind me.” He nods towards Rachel and Max, both of whom are not so subtly eyeing the setup for the next round. “Now get those two outta here before they find a way to win from halfway across the room.” 
Chloe turns back to them. “Alright guys, you heard him. Time to scram.” 
“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Max says as they head for the door, giving Chloe a haphazard salute. 
“Ooh, are we pirates?” Rachel asks, before nodding sagely in approval. “Hell yeah. Yeehaw.”
Chloe fights to form a sentence around the burst of laughter that follows. “That's cowboys, you dumbass. How much have you had?”
“A lot,” Max supplies, trying not to trip over herself as they step into the cool night air outside. “Like, twenty cups.”
“It wasn't twenty,” Rachel huffs. “More like a sensible seven. And jeez, way to tattle on me, Caulfield.”
Max blinks over at her. “Oh, sorry. Can I try again?” Without waiting for an answer, she turns to Chloe. “Rachel had a nice sensible seven drinks and there's nothing to worry about.” Then, she turns back over to Rachel with a thumbs up and a lopsided, optimistic grin; whispering as if Chloe isn't right next to them and listening to every word. “Was that better?”
“Perfect,” Rachel just barely manages to answer through a bout of giggling. “Thanks, Maxie.”
The sharp flick of a lighter draws both of their attention, and they find Chloe in the process of lighting up one of the joints she'd claimed as ‘drunk-sitter tax.’ They both watch a little too intently as she takes that first drag and lets it plume out into the dark. “Don't mind me,” she coughs. “I'm just tryna get on your guys’ level. You've got like one brain cell between you right now, I gotta get in on this shit if I'm gonna be the one dealing with it.”
“Do you want some tongue luck?” Max asks, too earnest for her own good. “For dealing with us?”
Chloe stops walking. “Do I want what?”
Max turns on her heel and closes their distance, reaching up to take gentle grip of Chloe's jacket. “Here,” she says, getting up on her tiptoes. “Let me show you.”
Chloe makes this cute little noise of surprise, muffled by Max's mouth over hers, and it only serves to spur the girl on. It doesn't take long for Chloe to melt into it however, unconsciously leaning towards Max as she pulls back, keen on continuing. 
“Damn,” Chloe whispers, eyeing Max with a look of eagerness and wonder. “Drunk-Max has game.”
“I know, right?” Rachel agrees on the end of a smokey exhale, having nabbed the joint from Chloe's hand while she wasn't paying attention.
Max puffs up like an overexcited budgie trying to show off for its mate. “I can't help being so swaggy.”
For a minute, all is quiet.
“Aaaaand we're back to normal,” Chloe notes with a humorous sigh, while next to her Rachel breaks into a fit of contagious cackling.  
Max merely smiles to herself, watching their faces light up as they chase each other in circles over the joint, listening as they calm halfway down only for one of them to start up again and drag the other into a fresh round of barely contained laughter. She may be playing more on the wild side than usual tonight, but she still finds herself sure — super extra mega double absolutely positively one hundred percent sure – of one thing.
No amount of alcohol could compare to the rush and butterflies of making her girlfriends happy. 
30 notes · View notes
allwormdiet · 1 month ago
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Extermination 8.8
Oh thank god this absolutely ass day can reach a conclusion
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This is one of the more grimly realistic parts of the worldbuilding in this story tbh. People gonna people, every disaster that comes along someone sees the whole things the chance to springboard into something bigger
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Five bucks says these memorials are mass produced or something, they have a guy who cranks out however many of them are projected to be needed a year in advance and they put the names in once the tally's made
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Even with Leviathan driven off, it still left the city utterly fucked. Whole place is cooked, status quo obliterated.
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I don't know if we caught the notification that Gallant bit it in the story, might have been in the same crush that took out Tattletale or might have been after Skitter's armband got fried
Shame, though. Seemed nice, for a rich boy training to be a supercop.
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Taylor, honey, that guy took massive damage to a limb that probably included fucking up a major artery or vein, never mind shock or infection. Not everybody is as ludicrously resistant to damage as you are
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Yeah, that's eight dogs dead. Two of Rachel's best, too. Almost half of her family slaughtered to bring down Leviathan even temporarily. Also, seeing that Rachel knows her letters but not spelling is. Sad.
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Feel like that comes up a lot when talking to Taylor. "Hey are you cool?" "I'm meeting the absolute basics of survival" "That's not what I asked"
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And here we are: Lisa's reveal
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Brief pause to be thankful that the damage to the loft didn't kill anyone, and that the Hebert house is still intact. I hope Taylor at least left a note telling Danny she's alive though, like fuck
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I like how Coil explained his power as the manipulation of destinies when it's literally just getting a one-time reset when choosing between A or B. Dramatic ass.
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Is this a nod to the retconned Empire fight? I'd heard about that somewhere, that the first version of the chapter or chapters got scrubbed in favor of revisions.
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So Taylor straight up got them all taken down in the B version of the Lung fight. Goddamn.
...Also, this means that Tattletale straight up saved Skitter from the ABB. "Bug girl" would've been found out as the one who took down Lung no matter what, but if she hadn't joined the Undersiders then Bakuda would've had people hunting for a solo target, and she'd be fucking dead. They barely survived Bakuda's attack with their total strength, God only knows how bad it'd be otherwise.
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It's interesting that Lisa considers all the struggle her own fault, and that Taylor is immediately like "nah I'd do it again, mostly"
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Oh I hadn't even thought about that part, the Undersiders know where she lives and they could've been fully willing to jump her for the offense. Fucking thanks, Colin
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And we're back again
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I wonder if Lisa thinks she can actually get Taylor to budge on the Dinah issue. I wonder if she even wants Taylor to budge on the Dinah issue. Knowing her circumstances I can only imagine that her loyalty to Coil will only last for as long as he's got a hand around her throat, the second she's clear there's no way she doesn't burn him.
And it'd probably be a lot easier to burn him if he's deprived of his pet precog.
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I think circumstances aligned to make Taylor a lot more down on heroes in general and the Protectorate/Wards in particular than is necessarily accurate. We know that Shadow Stalker is considered a problem child internally, she's hardly a ringing endorsement of how they run things but she's not supposed to be.
Armsmaster... I think the thing with Armsmaster is that the system straight up facilitated his worst impulses. He's ambitious, he's hungry, he's focused, and those aren't negative qualities to have, but they're not qualities you want for the leader of a team. He clearly struggles with big-picture thinking and gets wrapped up in his own head and his own projects; that's not someone you can just give a leadership position to. The fact that being the Big Hero of a city means you're also in charge of the Hero Team in that city is a massive oversight, it means he's put in a position where nobody can check him on his bullshit and force him to come up for air. Nobody could tell Armsmaster "no" when he came up with a plan to secure his legacy, at the small small price of threatening the entire goddamn Endbringer truce in the event his plan ever sees the light of day, and that's a failure of the system as well.
But these are the examples that Taylor has been forced to work with, and it's not like her other encounters have made her feel any better. Looking at you, Panacea. The culture of heroes seems to be borderline radioactive with everything that Taylor hates and fears and suffers under; cruelty, petty politics, arrogance, self-righteousness, jockeying for attention.
Is it any wonder she's drawn towards the opposition of that culture? Aligning herself with the opposing force and against everything that makes her suffer, still fighting the bad guys but not taking shit from the good guys? How is the conclusion anything other than foregone?
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Cliffhanger, though an obvious one imo, considering the fact we've got 20+ arcs left
Current Thoughts
Honestly this chapter was so welcome just for giving a reprieve from all the tension during and after the Leviathan battle. What a fucking ride. Kudos to Lisa for being the only person who has managed to even kind of figure out how to talk to Taylor, even if it involves manipulating her I maintain that this has been way way healthier than if she was allowed to rock on as an independent hero. Because she'd be fucking dead.
But of course even this reprieve has to be interrupted by fucking Coil. I hope they kick his teeth in.
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petrichor-idyllic · 2 years ago
Note
Hi Petri <3, so this request is a bit longer than the other's so bear with me (and my broken English lol). I was thinking about a Minho x fem!reader where she's from maze B and is close friends with Aris, so she's with him in the whole cafeteria scene where he gets introduced (while the boys are excited about the food, beds, girls and etc. and Thomas is having a bad feeling about that place). She's more positive about being there than Aris cause they been through a lot and she just want a little rest, but when she sees what that place really is she's terrified and is willing to do everything to get out, so Minho sees this fire in her and kinda likes it. (I don't know if it made any sense 😬, but I trust you to make a good fic out of it)
Oo, I do like more plot-driven requests like this, they give me more to work with :))
DECEPTION IN LIBERATION
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MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST
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SUMMARY: See above. Movie based fic.
WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, violence, teenage boys still not knowing how to act in the presence of a girl, WICKED spelt WCKD because movies, Rat Man aka Janson, probably innacurate Group B slang thanks to Wikipedia.
Just 'cause you wouldn't know the characters' names doesn't mean I don't, so the Gladers' names are used before you meet them. Because there is no way this would work if I couldn't use their names.
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You'd escaped the Maze.
Finally, after all this time, you'd escaped, and now you were safe. The years of torture and stress are now behind you and you can finally start to heal.
Your friends are safe. You're safe. And so are an entire group of teenagers who apparently went through the same things you did. WCKD definitely had big plans, but that doesn't matter anymore.
It's over.
At least that's what you think.
You playfully nudge Aris. The measly boy sits next to you, hoodie hiding his face as he stares at the table in front of you. You guys escaped the Maze first, meaning that you were the first to arrive. They keep taking people away; Aris' best friend Rachel was one of the first.
And he's been distant ever since.
You've been keeping an eye on him. Though, it is hard trying to spend time with the boy when he barely speaks nowadays.
You nudge him again. "C'mon, Aris, you've been avoiding us for-finching-ever." He scoffs, shaking his head. "What's goin' on?"
"You won't listen to me, so what does it matter?" You sigh, shuffling slightly and swinging your leg over one side of the bench to look him at him straight.
"Of course I'll listen to you. What's going on?"
From a few feet away, the Gladers have started talking to boys from other groups, and have taken note of Aris.
And therefore, you too.
"Who's the girl he's with?" Minho ask the unknown boy, eyes fixation on you.
The boys shrugs. "Just some chick he was in the Maze with."
"Lucky shank," Frypan chuckles.
Thomas, however, takes note of Aris. He's not like the other people that are sitting around and chatting. He's reserved, sunk low into the table and not even looking at you as his hood hides him.
"Aris," his eyes flicker to you, "I'm always gonna listen to you- talk to me."
He hesitates but takes a deep breath. "There's something wrong here," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper.
"What do you mean?"
"Something is going on- the Guard's are armed, our friends keep getting taken away, and..."
"And?" You push him to continue and he shuffles closer.
"Don't tell anyone, please."
You start to feel anxious. This is getting weird. "Okay."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"At night, I've been sneaking through the vent tunnels-"
"What?" You hiss. "That's so dangerous."
"I know, I know- but they go all over the building, a-and they take people into this... room that I can't get into. There's something weird going on. I know it sounds weird and you won't believe me, but-"
"I believe you," you trust Aris, and he's smart, so if he thinks something isn't quite right, then chances are something isn't quite right. "But what do we do?"
"Teresa!" Both of you perk up as you watch Thomas, who you're yet to know, stand up from his table, marching over to the doors to try and follow a girl behind some windows.
He's quickly stopped by some guards, but he's clearly agitated.
"Maybe he could help?" You blink at Aris. "We need all the help we can get. I'll show him what I mean- you too."
○ ○ ○
If you knew when you'd escaped the Maze that you'd end up stuck in another round of twisting and confusing corridors in the form of the vent system, you might've actually killed someone.
Aris, on the other hand, seems happily at home as he crawls around the tight spaces.
You're awkwardly crouching around the corner whilst Aris goes to get this Thomas kid.
After a few seconds, your friend reemerges, with the boy hot on his heels. He blinks at you and you give an awkward peace sign before Aris hurries him along.
"Come on."
You both follow him through the vent system, Thomas in front of you.
"Hey, wait a second." Thomas grumbles, clearly questioning how he gets himself on these situations. "What the hell are we doing?"
"Come on, we're gonna miss it," Aris says.
"Sorry," you answer instead, "he thinks you might be able to help- he reckons something weird's goin' on here. I don't really know."
You crawl into a more open area- even you don't really know what's going on.
"What are we doing?" Thomas asks again and it's kind of funny that he even came in the first place.
"Shh. Come here," Aris waves you both over. You both hover over an open-ish vent that looks down over a corridor.
One of the doctors appears, following by a strange trolley that seems to have a person in a body bag with a screen over the face. The screen shows vitals and other medical information, making you and Thomas exchange concerned glances.
"What the hell was that?" Thomas asks for the both of you.
"They bring in new ones every night like clockwork." Aris answers.
"What do they do with them?" You ask, even though you probably already know the answer.
"I don't know. This is as far as I've ever gotten. The vents don't even go into that section. But once they go through that door, they don't come back out." Aris pauses, visibly shaken. "I don't think anyone ever really leaves this place."
"C'mon," you say, "we gotta go before someone notices we're gone."
"Why'd you show me this?" Thomas asks, stopping you both.
"Because maybe the others will listen to you. There's something weird going on here- I know you think so too."
"Hey, wait," you stop again, "what's your names?"
"Aris," your friend answers, "and this is (Y/N)."
And with that, your friend crawls ahead.
"You're Thomas, right?" He blinks at you. "I heard some of your friends say it in the cafeteria."
He nods, and you offer him a reassuring smile. "It's nice to meet you, Thomas."
○ ○ ○
Janson reads out more names of people as you sit in the dining area. Apparently, Aris and Thomas spoke briefly earlier- they have some kind of plan regarding a key card.
You're, quite frankly, scared to watch.
Thomas has told the members from Group A what he saw, they seem skeptical at best. But, they seem to be a strong group and with most of Group B gone, you have little choice but to hope Thomas can convince them.
Thomas suddenly stands up, storming towards the doors and trying to blend in with the people's whose names were called.
He's stopped fairly quickly.
You can't quite make out what's going on, but when a guard sharply points into Thomas' chest, you're already on your feet.
"(Y/N)-" Aris hisses, but the plan isn't going to work if Thomas gets himself in trouble. You can't let this go south.
Thomas pretends to walk away, before turning and diving into the guard. All of the Gladers are on their feet in seconds, jumping to Thomas' defence.
"What the hell's your problem, man?" Thomas shouts as he gets shoved again and you dive in.
Pushing the guy back, you stand protectively in front of the boy. "Back the fuck off, man- you think shoving a kid around makes you tough?"
The boys exchange glances.
Who is this girl? Where did she come from? How come she's helping Thomas? Why does Thomas get all the girls? What is happening?"
"Control your friend!" The guard yells just as Janson bursts through them.
"What's happening here?" Janson seems lost for a second as he looks at the boy. "Thomas? I thought we could trust each other." He touches the boys shoulder and you go to step forward again, only for Thomas to slightly put his arm out, stopping you from intervening.
"You know we're all on the same team here."
"Are we?" Thomas asks.
Janson seems irritated by this and you ball your fists. You could punch this guy and give the Gladers an easy distraction- it would give them and Aris time.
You think about it until a hand grabs your wrist. You look up and meet the eyes of an Asian boy. He's tall, tanned skin and dark, swept up hair. He's handsome, but something in his dark eyes is telling you to stop.
And for some reason, you do. Relaxing your muscles, but returning your attention to Janson- Minho doesn't let go.
"Get them to their bunks."
In a matter of seconds, you're all separated. You just about manage to get to Aris before going to your separate rooms- agreeing to meet at Thomas' vent.
You can hear bickering as you approach, just catching Aris before he knocks down the vent.
"Hey, Thomas," he says casually.
"What the...?" You catch from one of the boys.
"You got it, didn't you?"
"Yeah, yeah, let's go. Where's your friend?"
"Right here!" Your voice echos on the metal from behind Aris. "Getting real finchin' sick of crawlin' around, though."
"Alright, maybe you guys are right," Thomas says to his friends, "maybe I'm just paranoid. But I gotta find out for sure. Just cover for me, I'll be back as soon as I can."
Making the same trip as last time, Aris and Thomas jump down out of the vent, with you staying up there to help them get back up again and keep watch.
You anxiously crouch, watching as you wait for the boys to return.
"C'mon, guys," you mumble to yourself, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
What feels like hours passes, but it couldn't have been more than five minutes, when Thomas and Aris burst out of the room. Both of them are clearly worked up.
You open the vent. "C'mon!" Offering a hand, they struggle back up, but eventually they join you again. "What happened?"
"We gotta go," is all Thomas says, "we gotta go!"
The boys are rapid at getting through the vents, Thomas bursting into his friends room. He, quite literally, throws the vent cover across the room.
"Thomas!" Someone shouts as he frantically scrambles into the room.
"We gotta go! We gotta go right now!" Thomas says as you and Aris both struggle out of the vent, still yet to have an explanation from either of them.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Minho, whose name you're yet to learn, asks.
"What do you mean 'we gotta go'?" Newt adds on, all of the boys in a frenzy.
"They're coming! Come on! We gotta go!"
"Thomas! What's going on?" You try to grab him but he brushes past you, grabbing things and starting to try and block the door.
You look at Aris, who is completely shook to the core so there's no getting anything out of him.
"What happened?" Frypan yells. "Aris, what happened?" He shouts at the timid boy, getting too close.
"Don't shout at him!" You pull him away. "He's terrified! He ain't gonna tell you klank!"
"Thomas! Can you just calm down and talk to us!" Newt begs, the whole room in a frenzy.
"She's still alive!" Thomas says.
That's ominous.
"Who's she? Teresa?" Frypan asks.
"Who the finch is Teresa?" You ask.
"Ava." Thomas is blunt now.
"Ava?" Newt repeats, watching his friend desperately try and tie the door shut. "Will you just turn around and talk to us?"
"It's WCKD!" Thomas snaps, turning around to face you all. The group freezes. "It's still WCKD. It's always been WCKD."
"Shit," scrambling to help, Thomas seems almost relieved that someone else is doing something as you help him move a mattress to block the door.
"Thomas," Newt stops him. "What did you see?"
Thomas gives a very vague explantion- a video call with Ava Paige and bodies strung up and being tested on.
That's all you guys need to start your escape.
"Come on, let's go!" You usher all the boys towards the vent, letting them go before you.
The Asian boy from before is last, hesitating for a second.
"Ladies first?" He says.
"Minho!" Someone from inside the vent shouts. "Not the shuckin' time, man!"
"Go," you tell him and he obeys. At least you know his name now.
Thomas somehow ends up leading the way as you all try to fight through the crawl space.
He breaks out into a corridor you don't recognise, the rest of you hot on his heels.
"Come on! Come on!" He ushers you towards him. "Okay, okay, let's go!"
"You guys go ahead, there's something I gotta do," Aris states and you look at him.
"What are you talking about?" Thomas steps towards him.
"Trust me, it's important. You guys wanna get outta here, right? Just go."
"I'll go with him," one boy offers.
"Okay, Winston, go! Go!" Thomas takes charge, and you learn another boy's name. "Come on!"
You hesitate, watching Aris start to take off, you go to follow him but Thomas grabs you. "You're with us, okay? Stay close."
You're reluctant, but you nod.
"You sure we can trust this kid?" Minho asks.
"You don't wanna know where we'd be without him," you're glad to hear that Thomas has faith in your friend.
You turn a corner, immediately bumping into the same doctor you saw earlier. You all freeze.
"What are you kids doing out?" She asks.
Then the sirens start blaring.
Which is enough of a hint, I suppose.
"Move," you demand, stepping forward and grabbing the doctor. She struggles, but you grab her wrist, twisting it behind her back and pushing her in front of you. "You're gonna show us how to get outta here."
The boys exchange looks once again. But, Minho smirks- he almost impressed at this point.
"Let's move."
The group starts the make their way down the halls.
"We gotta get Teresa." Thomas states.
"Who?" You question him. "Who is that?"
"A friend."
"A friend? Seriously? We- oh, finch it, I don't know who any of you guys are either."
"I'm Newt, if that helps." The blond says.
"Frypan."
You look at him. "You're called Frypan?"
"I'm-"
"Yes, I know who you are, Minho."
Rounding another corner, you're almost immediately met by gunshot. You're quick to retreat, letting go of Dr Crawford as she also ducks for cover.
"They're shooting at us!"
"No shit!"
You back away, running in the other direction when Minho suddenly stops.
"Minho!" Thomas yells. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Minho!" You yell as the boy starts charging in the direction of the shooter.
Just as he rounds the corner, Minho jumps, kneeing the guy in the chest and causing him to crash into the wall, knocking him out cold.
All of you, including Crawford, run over, staring at the guy on the floor in some kind of awe.
"Shit, Minho," Newt says and you snort.
"Not bad, stick," you grin at him, watching as he smiles himself, "not bad at all."
Thomas grabs the Launcher, using it to direct the doctor as you make your way to this girl you don't know.
"Dr. Crawford," a scientist says as you force her to pretend to open the door, only for Thomas to follow her and everyone go into a panic.
"Where is she? Where is she!" Thomas is pointing the gun at anyone and everyone as they put their hands on their heads.
He passes the gun to Minho as he rips away a curtain, revealing a girl.
"Get down!" Minho yells. "Get down, now!"
The scientists and doctors all get on the ground as Newt starts tying their hands together to deem them less of a threat.
"You're never gonna get away with this!" Doctor Crawford threatens.
"Yeah?" You scoff. "Watch us."
"Guys!" Frypan, who's watching the door shouts. "They're coming! Where do we go?!"
"Frypan! Move!" Newt pushes over a medical table, shoving it in front of the door just as it's nearly forced open.
"Get back!" Minho grabs your wrist, pulling you behind him along with his friends. "Get back!" He points the gun at the door, keeping you all protected. "Okay! We gotta get outta here! Where do we go?"
"Everybody stand back!" Thomas yells, picking up a chair and slamming it against the glass window, only for it to bounce off. "Newt! Help! Help!"
The boy grabs another chair. "Ready?"
At the same time, they smash the glass, sending shards scattering everywhere as you use your hand to shield your face.
"Go! Go! Go!"
It's a blur of action and yelling as you all try to climb out of the window.
"Hurry! Go!" Minho yells, lingering back before tossing the Launcher to Thomas and jumping over himself.
"Stay behind me," Thomas instructs you all as he opens the door, revealing another Guard.
Which he immediately shoots.
In a burst of sparks and electricity, the man hits the floor, his body seizing and twitching uncontrollably.
You're stunned for a second, but you recollect fairly quickly. Running past the guy, all of you break into a sprint, eager to escape as you near the exit.
"There it is!" Reaching the door, Thomas tries the key card, which denies access.
"Shit! Come on!" Thomas begs. "No, no, no!"
"Thomas!" You spin to see Janson making his way down the corridor. Handing you the key card, he raises his weapon, walking towards them.
"Open the door, Janson!" He yells.
"You really don't want me to."
"Open the damn door!"
"Listen to me!" The Rat Man snaps. "I'm trying to save your life. The Maze is one thing, but you kids won't last a day out in the Scorch. If the elements don't kill you, the Cranks will. Thomas, you have to believe me. I only want what's best for you."
"Yeah, let me guess, WCKD is good?"
Whilst this exchange is going down, you're desperately trying to open the door. Both Newt and Minho stand by your sides, pushing and grabbing at the door to see if that does anything.
"You're not getting through that door, Thomas."
As if the Gods themselves were listening, the key pan suddenly lights up green. Whirring as it rises, it reveals Aris and Winston standing there.
"Hey, guys," Aris says and relief washes over you.
"You crazy bastard," you laugh. "Come on!"
"Thomas! Come on! Let's go!" Newt yells.
Thomas starts shooting, the amo quickly running out, so he launches the weapon towards them.
Janson barks orders down his radio and the door starts to quick close.
You all start to yell words of encouragement, pushing Thomas as he starts to bolt towards the door. He hits the floor, sliding aross the mouth surface as he slips under it.
"Move! Move!" Aris slams a pipe into the pad, breaking it as the rest of you grab as many supplies from nearby as possible.
You're in some kind of warehouse area, all of you sprinting towards another set of giant doors; WCKD personnel flooding from all areas.
You reach them first, pulling on a handle and having to cover your face from flying sand as they open.
Running out into the desert, all you can do is tell each other to keep moving, and that you'll lose them in the storm. It's dark and windy and hard to run.
Following the girl, she finds a building buried in the sand, and you're the first to following as you slip into the shelter.
Eventually, you all have a moment to catch your breaths, using a flashlight to illuminate your new surroundings.
You're too busy examining to listen to Thomas' full explanation and the Gladers' arguing.
Eventually, they come up with some plan to find the Right Arm and you find footsteps.
You start moving, deciding to stay close to Minho because he has the best light source.
"You were pretty good back there," you attempt to make some light-hearted conversation since you just risked your life with this kid.
"Yeah? You weren't so bad yourself." You chuckle, accepting his compliment. "I, uh, I never caught your name."
"What? Tommy-boy didn't tell you?" You raise an eyebrow and Minho shakes his head.
Even in the dark, it's easy to see how attractive the boy is. He's well built and effortlessly charming. And impressive from the stunts he pulled before.
You might just develop a crush on this kid.
"(Y/N)."
He hums in response. "I like it; (Y/N), really rolls off the tongue."
You roll your eyes, but hearing him say your name does make you feel a typa way.
The feeling is mutual, too. Bold and quick-thinking, but also caring and easy to talk to. Not to mention you're easily the most attractive girl Minho has seen (which isn't many but that's not the point.)
"Minho! Quit flirting with the new girl and give us a hand!" Newt shouts, making you try to repress a smirk.
"I wasn't flirting!" Even in the dim light, you can see Minho's reddened expression.
"Sure, you weren't!"
Confident and smooth, but easily flustered.
Good to know.
He turns to you. "I wasn't flirting."
You grin. "Uh-huh."
He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out and he ends up looking like a fish out of water.
You snort. "Yanno, you can flirt with me, if ya want to. I don't mind." You playfully wink at him, unsure if he can even see it before you jog off, catching up to your friend.
He watches as you throw an arm over Aris' shoulder before he puts an arm around your back.
Minho stands there, grinning like the Cheshire Cat before dropping his head and shaking it to himself.
"Okay, lover boy, c'mon," Thomas says, having watched the whole exchange, "you're with me."
"Shut up, shank," Minho playfully pushes his friend, "don't you wanna be with your girlfriend, anyway?"
"I should be asking you that." Minho rolls his eyes.
But he smirks.
Yeah, okay, maybe he likes you. After all, you can't really nearly die with a hot girl without catching feelings, can you?
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Okay, so, not quite as good as some of my other pieces and there's barely any romance, but that tends to happen with my pieces that I have to pull the movie up for lol.
Maybe a part 2 is in order again? Well, you guys will have to let me know about that.
I hope you enjoyed :))
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kydrogendragon · 4 months ago
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"Where'd you find this?" Hob asks, picking up the old, rather brittle leather case. He smiles, rubbing his thumb over the scratched and faded color.
"Up in the top of the closet." Jo sighs and sets down the tall stack of old boxes onto the kitchen table. She crosses her arms over it and rests her head against them, groaning as she stretches her back. "Christ, Hobsie, I don't even know how you fit so much in there. And I still haven't found that old bag you claimed to have in there."
He snorts, flicking open the snap button on the case and pulls out the now very outdated Kodiak camera from its case. He runs his hand across the metal shell, feeling warmth well in his eyes as memories flood through him. It's been ninety years now since he first got this thing. Nearly a century. He might not have any working film for it, but he's certain it would still work as good as the day he got it.
Hob clicks the button on the top, letting the front lens pop open. He trails a finger over the folded bellows. Maybe he's just nostalgic, but there's something charming about these folding cameras. Sure, modern-day ones can take spectacular images. Lots easier to use than film. And cheaper. But these feel more...alive. Maybe he likes these for the same reasons he still prefers vinyls over streaming music.
Or he's just old.
"That's neat," Jo says, pulling Hob out of his thoughts.
"Yeah," he says, tilting the viewfinder straight and peers down at it. Jo's face reflects back at him through the fingernails sized glass. He dials in the lens, sharpening the image. "It's my old camera. First one I ever got. Definitely used a village's worth of film in the first few years. Peggy got a kick out of it, though she did scold me after I kept taking her picture early in the morning. Said she wanted to be remembered not for her morning hair and bad breath but for her taste in clothes and skilled use of a curler.... Didn't touch it much after the blitz." He works his jaw, taking a breath as he does so. It's been a long time since he lost her, but the sting is still there. Still...raw. Especially holding items like this.
"Sorry, Da." He waves her concern away, sniffling back the sadness.
"Want it? I bet if you managed to track down some film, it'd work. Maybe Rachel would think it's charming," he says with a wink. Jo rolls her eyes, but takes the proffer camera from his hands.
"Well...it is pretty cool. Bet I could clean this case up. Got that leather kit for my docs. I bet they'd work on this too." He watched with a soft smile as she fiddles between the case and the camera and his heart squeezes in his chest. It's small thing like this, he realizes, that he missed with Robyn. Passing things along, having them gain new life in the next generation. Even if Jo's not his by blood, she's his daughter, even if she grumbles about it. Christ, he's gonna tear up again. He doubts she'd believe him if he blames it on the dust.
"Right!" He says, clapping his hands together. "Clearly that closet's been neglected for too long. Here, I'll help sort through some of thing. Maybe we can actually get it organized."
Jo laughs as she sets the camera, now secured back in its case, on the coffee table in the living room. "Very optimistic of you. That's a weekend long chore at the least."
Hob lifts the lid on the nearest box and groans internally at the mess of clutter and paper inside. Jo's probably right, but that doesn't mean he'll give her the satisfaction. "Well, we can get as far as we can then. Maybe we'll even find that old bag while we're at it."
A few weeks later, he gets a letter in the mail with a small stack of photos of Jo and Rachel taken on that very same Kodiak. Hob sticks them on the fridge with a smile next to the old photos they'd found all the way back from 1937 of him and Peggy.
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moony-2001 · 11 months ago
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Lore Olympus ep. 254 critique
Well I can officially say that Persephone is the most selfish person in the comic
What in the Disney ripoff
So obviously it’s too late and Zeus is poisoned and ✨wow, how convenient✨ Apollo is suddenly there with Leto (who btw we haven’t seen in almost 100 episodes). I don't really want to focus on his confrontation with Eros and Psyche, because let's be real, it wasn't much of a confrontation. No, instead I want to focus on this:
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My first thought when I saw the whole blackmail scene coupled with this was "What in the Lion King is this bullshit." Seriously. This is almost verbatim to what Scar says to Simba (except Scar as a villain is actually intimidating and Apollo, well...).
But here's the thing. This is how stupid Apollo is as a villain. Hebe has the least to gain from Zeus' poisoning and death. Look at the list of children that could stand to benefit from Zeus' demise:
An angry War god who was banished to the mortal realm for years by Zeus for pissing him off. Additionally, Zeus slept with his then-romantic partner and was implied to sleep with her often
The estranged daughter who literally thrives on chaos and is basically the goddess of "it's getting a little too chummy around here" who has beef with not only Zeus, but also Hera
A newly revealed son who has a tendency to heavily push boundaries and can't take no for an answer. This son additionally has been making moves to gain power politically
Compare this to Hebe, who we have only seen being kind to Zeus. No where in the comic is she seen harboring any kind of resentment towards him. Even when she criticizes him, it is gentle and she doesn’t push any further when he lays down the law.
Not only that but the whole prophecy- the usurp of power prophecy that Uranus got about Kronos, and Kronos got about his children, and so on- only applies to the sons of the tyrant in question. That was established in the myths, both in the Theogony and the Metamorphosis via a prophecy that usually came from Gaia. So that immediately takes Eris off the suspect list by virtue of the fact that she is a goddess. But even then, Hebe still shouldn't be a suspect.
How is Rachel expecting people to fall for this? Even her audience in some respect is calling out Apollo for being "back on his bullshit". Yet I can almost guarantee that everyone is going to fall for it because the only 2 gods who actually know are trapped in jail, Cassandra is probably going to disappear from the narrative for a while, and the rest of the general cast of characters only shares 2 brain cells between the lot of them. I can't wait to see this drag out over the course of, like, 15 episodes.
The most selfish thing
I just… wow. I have no words. Except yes I do or otherwise I wouldn’t be making this post. So we transition to the second half of the chapter where Persephone talks about her nonexistent connection with the snow and how maybe, just maybe, this is all her. Just like her act of wrath and what she did to Minthe, she has no one to blame but herself. And then she straight up goes “nah”.
I will be the first to admit, the way Rachel wrote Demeter during Persephone's homecoming/proposal was horrific. Demeter behaved horribly to Persephone. Now, I more blame Rachel for poor writing because if you have to make side characters look worse so your protagonists can look better, you suck at writing. BUT that does not excuse Demeter's initial actions and behavior toward Persephone.
However, in this situation, Demeter is not putting Persephone down for what she’s done. Obviously, Demeter is distressed, but she basically says “You tried, but now it’s time for the adults to handle it” and Hades agrees. He fucking agrees.
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Demeter is far more capable and mature than Persephone due to being around for thousands of years. Demeter has had experience, she’s worked hard at maintaining everything, and she has even had hardships and failures. But because of this, she is a very very powerful goddess. Thus it makes the most sense for Demeter to step in to handle this situation. It is what's best for everyone, most of all for the mortal realm, which has been immediately affected.
But because Persephone has been told over and over that she’s hot shit, she's special (and has been treated as such), her ego can’t take the blow. She can’t take the L. She makes everything worse because she can’t stand the idea that she’s not special and that she's not this big bad goddess who has control over her abilities.
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To me, this is so selfish. Persephone acknowledges that everything is dead. She acknowledges that she is the cause of this destruction. Yet she knowingly makes it worse because her ego can not handle the fact that she isn’t miss fucking perfect. This is the epitome of a child’s temper tantrum- like how when Nemo swims out to sea to touch the boat after Marlin tells him he can't do it. Because that’s what Persephone is. A child. In this case, it does not matter that she’s the age of an adult mortal woman. She is a god. She hasn’t even been around for 100 years. She still doesn’t have a handle on her powers. Persephone is being immature and selfish by stomping her feet and going “No, I can do it." Because of that, she makes everything so much worse.
Hades naturally makes this worse by enabling her. Although I genuinely can’t say I’m surprised since Hades has a history (especially post-marriage) of enabling Persephone’s bad behavior (like rewarding Persephone with sex after destroying the apartment of Leuce and threatening to kill her). When asked rightfully by Demeter if he’s going to do anything to try and talk her off the wall since Persephone has a history of not listening to anything Demeter has to say, Hades basically goes “Nah, my hands are tied, nothing I can do”, Despite the fact that he saw the destruction she caused and ACKNOWLEDGED IT WAS TIME FOR THE ACTUAL ADULTS TO STEP IN. This could’ve been a great moment for someone who wasn’t portrayed as a force against H&P (like the main love interest/husband) to hold her accountable. To say “That’s enough”. But nooooooo. No one, not even her own husband, is allowed to get in Persephone’s way.
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Thus, Persephone continues to cause mass destruction and death until she passes out (this is important to note) and Demeter rightfully loses her damn shit.
Final thoughts
This is, I think, the worst chapter of Lore Olympus. Genuinely. As I stated in my last post, I had no idea where Rachel was going to take the whole “Persephone causes winter” idea and that there was no way she could make it more feminist than the original hymn. And boy was I right. Because I guess nothing is more feminist to Rachel than an ego-fueled power trip that results in the death of life in the mortal realm and also probably a good portion of the mortals who probably aren’t built to handle this kind of weather (by Persephone’s own admission that the mortal realm doesn’t get cold).
I'd also like to end on this note: if you're going to be a writer or artist or comic writer, don't treat your audience like they're fucking stupid.
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Remember that little note I made about how it's important to remember that Persephone passes out? Yeah, well, that's because Persephone is actually unconscious and not dead. In literature and media today, people often use some version of the phrase "you've killed [x]" as a way to say not that whatever [x] is, is actually dead, but that it died in a metaphorical sense. You see a great example of this in the season finale of Arcane with Jinx. Powder doesn't actually die; Jinx is still very much alive. But Jinx metaphorically obliterated Powder to make room for the new her. The new Jinx, unburdened by her old self.
And that's what Demeter is saying. Hell, Hades even said that Persephone wasn't dead after presumably checking her vitals. Anyone who read the chapter would recognize this. But I guess Rachel thinks her audience doesn't have more than a 4th-grade level of reading comprehension because why else would she put in this, frankly demeaning, message at the end.
Oh boy. Welp. See y'all in my next post.
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brittanagirlcrush · 22 days ago
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The First Time Ever I Saw Her Face
The long awaited (okay, maybe not by anyone but me) NeverEnding Story is (partially) posted. First fifteen chapters are up on FF.net
Prologue
It was a beautiful fall day during the last week of September and Brittany S. Pierce was sitting under the big oak in the middle of the quad. It was her freshman year and she was snapping pictures to get a head start on her end-of-semester media project.
She heard a shout and swung her camera in the direction the shout had come from. Through her viewfinder, she saw a Latina snatch a frisbee out of the air and sling it back to the guys who had lost control of it. Brittany couldn't hear what the guys said but her breath caught in her throat as her camera captured the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen.
She wanted to catch up to the Latina; wanted to get to know her. But. She had a strict rule: when she was dating someone she didn't initiate or pursue anyone else. She sighed; she and Rachel had been dating for three weeks. Before she could talk herself into chasing the Latina, she was gone.
A week later, Brittany was cursing herself as she realized that she and Rachel weren't compatible and broke things off.
She spent the rest of her freshman year, unsuccessfully, trying to find the Latina
End Prologue
xoxoxoxoxo
Chapter 1
The second time she saw the girl, Brittany had stepped out of the first class of her sophomore year. She stopped cold. Not three feet in front her was the beautiful Latina. Brittany bounced on the balls of her feet and approached the pretty brunette.
"Hi! I'm Brittany. I was wondering if I could buy you a beverage of your choice. I mean, because not everyone likes coffee." She smiled brightly at the girl.
The brunette looked scared.
"Oh, I … I, um, I have to, um, get to class." she stammered out before scurrying off like a rabbit and getting swallowed by the crowd.
Brittany frowned in puzzlement. That wasn't exactly a 'no'.
Xoxoxoxoxoxo
The following day was a Tuesday and Brittany sat in the back of her Logic 101 class. She scanned the lecture hall to see if she knew anyone and was surprised to see the Latina sitting at the far side of the hall, by herself, looking like she was trying to hide behind her laptop. She was sitting alone and had placed her backpack on the seat next to her in an obvious attempt to discourage anyone from sitting next to her.
Brittany spent the entire lecture watching the girl. She kept her head down, hair curtaining her face. She appeared to be taking detailed notes – or – she was writing quite a bit anyway.
When the class was dismissed, the Latina was already packed up and scurrying out of the lecture hall.
Brittany tried to follow her but the girl was gone by the time Brittany exited the hall.
'Well, I know where to find her,' she thought as she headed to her Humanities I class.
She had just slipped into her seat when her housemates, Puck and Sam, flopped next to her.
"Hey, Britt! How was your logic class?"
"Eh, you know, prove the chair actually exists type thing. But, oh-my-god, that beautiful Latina was there."
Puck laughed. "The one you've been mooning over for, like, a year? Did you actually talk to her this time?"
"No. I saw her yesterday, though, and I asked her out and it was kind of weird. She looked scared that I'd asked her out and, guys, she actually scurried away from me. She didn't say 'no', though. Just stammered out that she had a class."
"That does sound a little weird. I mean, it's not like you're scary." Sam frowned at her.
"So, yeah ..." she trailed off, "holy shit … there she is!" Brittany nodded in the direction of the Latina who, again, was sitting at the far side of the lecture hall, alone, hiding behind her laptop.
"Damn, B, you weren't kidding. I thought you touched up those pics. I'd definitely tap that."
"Don't even think about it, Puck. I will seriously castrate you while you sleep."
"What if she's straight?"
"Then she's too good for you."
"Harsh," Sam laughed, "but probably accurate."
"With friends like you …" Puck grumbled with a smirk.
The professor called the class to order and, once again, Brittany found herself staring at her mystery girl.
Xoxoxoxoxoxo
Brittany snuck out of class a few minutes early to try and catch the girl when she left the lecture hall.
"Hi!" She slipped into step with the girl as she exited the lecture hall. "I'm Brittany. You wanna maybe have lunch with me?"
Again, the Latina looked scared. "Oh, um, I – I d-don't think … I, uh, don't think that's a good idea." She stammered, again, before scurrying off like a frightened rabbit leaving a very puzzled, very intrigued Brittany in her wake. 'And, again, not a no,' she thought.
Xoxoxoxoxoxo
Brittany looked for the Latina on Wednesday but didn't see her. She was a little frustrated that afternoon as she walked into the photo studio she worked at. She was also starting to wonder if she was becoming a creepy stalker. There was just something about this girl; this scurrying, stammering, beautiful mystery of a girl.
"Everything okay, Brittany?" Keith asked.
Her boss, Keith Derbins, was a sweet older guy; probably in his mid-to-late fifties. His sandy blond hair was streaked with silver and pulled back into a long braid that ended just above his tailbone. His eyes were a soft gray with laugh lines creasing the corners. He had hired Brittany last semester when she walked into his photo studio, showed him some of her work and asked if he needed any help. She was willing to work for free if he'd give her practical world experience. There'd been a brief negotiation and he was paying her a fair salary as well as teaching her things she wouldn't learn in her classes.
"Yeah, Keith. Just …" she hesitated, "there's this girl …"
Keith grinned. "Isn't there always?"
Brittany grinned back at him. "I caught her on film last year and spent two semesters looking for her. I just … I don't know … I mean … ugh, I swear English is my first language," she sighed.
Keith laughed. "You've got it bad, kid."
"That's just it! I don't even know her name," Brittany huffed. "I've seen her a couple of times and every time I try to talk to her she gets this scared look, stammers an excuse, and runs off."
Keith smiled slightly. "Sound like the girl may have been hurt in the past. You're a beautiful girl, Britt. You know this but you don't really act it. If this girl's been hurt, she may be wondering why a beautiful girl like you is talking to her.
Brittany nodded as she thought about what Keith had said.
"You may need to find a better way to approach her."
"Yeah. That makes sense. I'll have to make a plan instead of ambushing her in the hallway."
Keith nodded.
She put it to the back of her mind as she settled into work.
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arcadiabaytornado · 8 months ago
Note
Do you think Joyce ever suspected Chloe's sexuality when Chloe and Rachel were always hanging out? Would she have said anything or just silently support Chloe if she did know? Or was she too fixated on David to bother noticing?
There's no in game confirmation about whether Joyce knows if Chloe is queer or not. However, I think Joyce at minimum suspected it between Chloe's "friendship" with Rachel taking up a lot of her time...and...well...the pictures of boobs she had up in her room were also probably a pretty good indicator that something not straight was going on.
Going into headcanon territory, I don't think Joyce knew for sure sure because she had never had that talk with Chloe. The reasons being:
A: At the point when Chloe realized her feelings her Rachel, her relationship with Joyce was on the decline. I could see her not talking about her queerness simply because it seemed easier to hide. B: Chloe's relationship with Rachel was complicated. It doesn't seem like they were together...but they also weren't not together. I can see Chloe not wanting to try and explain that situation to Joyce. C: I think Joyce was too fixated on other things to really focus in on Chloe's queerness. I think she realized what was going on, but at the end of the day, she was far more concerned about David/bills/work than Chloe's romantic life.
However, despite the fact that they never had that talk, she still knew. She noticed how much time Chloe spent with Rachel. She noticed how she talked about her. She noticed when Chloe stopped bringing bad boys around and replaced their presence with Rachel's. She noticed how Rachel and Chloe always sat just a little too close together when they swung by the dinner for breakfast.
So I think she knew, but she was never told. And that suited them both just fine. I also headcanon that Chloe knew that Joyce knew and appreciated how she just accepted it instead of turning it into a thing. I also also headcanon that Joyce isn't homophobic in the slightest, and would be thrilled to hear about her relationship with Rachel/Max if Chloe ever came to her with that information. The reason she was never told was because of their rocky relationship, not because she would have reacted badly.
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tagthescullion · 6 months ago
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The Friend of my Friend
Fandom(s): Percy Jackson & the Olympians
Summary: Being a teenager sucks. Being a clear-sighted teenager sucks even more. But nothing, nothing in the world, sucks more than being a teenager hated by the most beautiful girl you've ever seen. Specially when you don't even know why.
(Or: Rachel has a massive crush on Annabeth).
Rating: G
Words: 2600 (such a beautiful round number)
AO3 link
Rachel turned away as Percy dropped by the wall beside her. The only light they had was that of his bronze sword, faint in the oppressive darkness, but still, she didn’t want to risk him reading her expression.
Percy Jackson could be obtuse but he was a good friend, he would recognise her misery straight away.
“She’ll come around eventually,” he whispered.
Rachel sighed. So much for keeping her thoughts to herself. 
She tried to find the sleeping form of Annabeth Chase, but she could only hear her deep breaths. She’d fallen asleep a while ago. And thank God for that, the last thing she needed was the daughter of Athena listening to Percy’s tactless remarks.
“She hates me,” she murmured back. “I have no idea what I’ve done!”
That wasn’t true, Rachel told herself. She hadn’t stopped staring at Annabeth the whole time she’d spent with her and Percy on this damned quest.
It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t choose to find her attractive, she just did!
But it didn’t seem to matter. Clearly the girl was repulsed by Rachel’s attention. 
It frustrated her, if she was honest. It wasn’t as if she’d made Annabeth uncomfortable. She hadn’t made any moves or anything, but she knew some people were just like that.
“Chiron says she can be possessive about her friends,” Percy told her. “That she has trouble letting people into her life.”
Rachel shrugged. She wasn’t convinced. If Annabeth didn’t like people, she’d treat Rachel plainly, but not in such a mean way. Being distrustful was one thing, but being completely rude was another. 
Percy studied her expression. “Go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll take the first watch, I’ll wake you guys up later, yeah?”
Rachel didn’t argue. She was exhausted. She couldn’t understand how demigods went on and on with barely any sleep. Still, it was the most interesting summer she’d ever had, and probably ever would.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Rachel saw the pegasi fly off as she dragged her feet towards the closest subway station, and felt the heaviness of loneliness settle into her. The way an adrenaline rush passes and leaves you feeling worn-out and light-headed. She realised, embraced suddenly by reality, that she would have to face her mother and father, who would likely not be pleased with her unexplained disappearance.
As she boarded the train, attracting more than a few wary glances, she thought about the last minutes with her new group of friends –if she could even call them that–. 
Percy had been kind, as always. Rachel was impressed that he’d memorised her phone number. It looked as if he could actually talk to those horses. That was, in Rachel’s eyes, the best of his superpowers. She had always wanted to talk to animals.
The young boy, Nico, had intrigued her. He was tiny, couldn’t be more than eleven, she wondered whether it was normal for demigods to be left to their own devices in sixth grade. The kid had seemed powerful, stubborn, resilient… if a bit rough around the edges. She tried not to compare him, hungry, and a bit wild, to a boy talking his mother’s ear off in the seat in front of her.
Rachel got off at the next station and breathed in the not-very-clear Brooklyn air. There was a construction site on her way home. They were building a huge apartment block, dust blew over towards her, making her sneeze.
She felt bad for Grover. She didn’t know him much, but she had been fighting her causes for as long as she could remember. Reaching the end of a lifelong quest to feel you failed must be terrible. It wasn’t as if his job was over, even if Pan was dead –gone, faded–, Grover had been given the seemingly impossible task to save green spaces by the same deity he’d been searching for his whole life!
Rachel felt a moment of raw anger against her father and the people like him. Could they not see the irreparable damage they were causing? 
She kicked a stone hard. It banged against a light-post causing a couple of pigeons to coo indignantly.
They flapped their wings, attracting the attention of a golden Labrador passing by. His owner, a big man with soft eyes, stopped to pat the dog’s head.
He reminded her of Tyson. The image of him calmly approaching the pegasi, stroking their necks and talking to them in soothing tones was almost enough to dissipate the irritability she felt.
But then she remembered Annabeth. 
God, she had barely even looked at Rachel as she was about to leave. She glanced her way for a fraction of a second with a face full of distaste and that was it. Simple and effective, Rachel hadn’t dared look her way again after that. 
She shook her head. It wasn’t fair to blame Annabeth. If it had been a tough day for Rachel, she could not imagine how utterly nasty it had been for her. 
Rachel didn’t know the whole story with Luke. Whether he’d been a brother to Annabeth, or a friend, a mentor, a crush. Whatever the story was, Rachel knew he’d been important to her. And he had let her down, time and time again.
It was hard not to follow into Percy’s anger when Annabeth had defended Luke so passionately. Luke didn’t deserve shit, much less the unconditional support of Annabeth Chase.
Rachel sighed. In Annabeth’s eyes, Rachel herself didn’t deserve that affection either, that much was clear.
She stood in front of her front door. She took a giant breath before knocking twice. She looked awful, she felt even worse, and to make her future even bleaker, she was facing her parents’ wrath. Not worried anger, born of care. They’d be upset because she’d used her father’s name to get that damned chauffeur to drive them around Denver.
Haldane, their butler, opened the door. To his credit, he looked only a bit bemused.
“Welcome back home, Miss Dare,” he said simply.
Home… that was one way to call it.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Rachel was excited. After almost a month into the school year, she had finally convinced Percy to go bowling with her.
She knew this fantastic 80s-themed alley with smoothies to die for. And it was not too expensive, she knew Percy wasn’t comfortable being invited everywhere. 
She was waiting for him by the door. 
She’d picked her outfit to go with the decor. A pretty sweatshirt in strong colours that she was proud to say didn’t match her hair at all, and straight-legged, high-waist overalls to give it a final retro touch.
She was keeping an eye out for a teenager on his own –with a high probability of collateral monsters– so she missed Percy’s arrival completely.
Somebody poked her shoulder, making her jump while she turned, which resulted in a clumsy ballerina flip that would’ve ended with her on her ass if it wasn’t for Percy’s quick reflexes.
“Elegant.” A dry voice offered from the side.
Rachel’s attention, which had been focused on apologising to Percy, snapped to the side.
She was there. Annabeth Chase was there. In all her tomboy, I-don’t-care-what-you-think-of-me glory. 
Rachel’s feelings turned surprised, annoyed, and joyful in the span of a second. Her cheeks were burning, but to hell if she would let this girl —the woman of her dreams or not—  make her look bad in front of her friend.
“I was aiming for dramatic,” she replied. “Elegance is overrated.”
Percy smiled. Annabeth rolled her eyes. 
Once inside, Percy looked around with interest. Rachel knew he liked the vibes, he was a hopeless fan of The Breakfast Club, Back to the Future, and a bunch of other cliché 80s movies his mom had shown him.
“I’ll go get us set,” Annabeth announced as they went in, leaving Rachel and Percy to get in line for their shoes.
“Why did you bring her?” Rachel asked once they were out of earshot.
Percy looked confused. “Because she’s a friend. You said it would be nice to go out more and meet new people.”
“Right,” she didn’t want to tell him Annabeth didn’t count as new people because they both did, in fact, know her. “And did she know I was coming?”
He blushed. 
“I told her on the way!” He said defensively.
No wonder she’d been so angry. 
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
As far as Rachel’s summers went, flying into a warzone and immediately having her pilot fall asleep was almost as bad as seeing nature fade into oblivion the year before. 
She panicked, yelled, clutched the pilot’s seat, shook him roughly, yelled some more, and accepted she’d die a grotesque death squashed between the helicopter’s cabin and a skyscraper.
Only after having reached that phase of despair, did she hear a loud tapping outside the window, prompting her to look out and see…
“What the hell?”
Annabeth Chase’s floating form appeared on the other side of the door, her head bobbing as —Rachel tried to look out without feeling dizzy— her pegasus' wings flapped. Behind her, like a loyal puppy, Percy Jackson held on for dear life.
Shocked as she was, Rachel missed Annabeth’s enraged expression and subsequent screaming.
Rachel shook her head. With the noise of the helicopter and the erratic boom-boom of her heart in her ears she had no idea what the girl wanted.
Annabeth and Percy pointed at the door and disappeared from view as they dodged the helicopter’s propellers.
Finally, Rachel understood.
She forced her wobbly legs to drag her to the side of the cabin and struggled with the lock. 
After several seconds in which her mind —not working well that day, obviously— reminded her that Annabeth would think her a useless idiot if she couldn’t so much as open the damned helicopter door, she heard a thump as something —someone— slammed into the outside of the copper.
Annabeth had jumped off the pegasus and was holding on to the handle with all her strength.
Rachel pushed hard and managed to slide the door open, to grab Annabeth and to pull her inside without catapulting herself off the flying vehicle —a feat she considered heroic by itself—.
“Took you long enough,” Annabeth gasped as a greeting.
She didn’t seem afraid of their imminent death, which was very cool. Instead, she looked annoyed as hell.
“I—” Rachel looked around, finding some excuse. “And the pegasus?”
Annabeth looked worried for a second but she schooled her expression. “Percy will take care of him, he’s good with horses.”
Rachel nodded. “I don’t know how to fly this. The pilot fell asleep as soon as we got into Manhattan.”
She grunted as affirmative, pushing poor Phillips off his seat, and taking his place.
She pulled a lever, pressed some buttons, and the copper stabilised. 
“Wait,” Rachel said. “You can fly a helicopter?”
She shrugged. Despite facing away from her, Rachel could see her smirk in the reflection of the windshield. “It’s not that hard.”
Rachel was about to differ but Annabeth made the goddamned thing descend so quickly her ears popped. She threw herself on her seat and put her seatbelt on.
Once safely on the ground, having landed in the middle of Fifth Avenue —which was unnervingly still—, Annabeth got off her seat and stretched.
“That was fun,” she said. 
Then she jumped off the helicopter.
Rachel slowly moved her trembling legs to the open door. She held onto the handle and looked down.
She thought of Phillip, and pushed him off the helicopter with her.
They landed with a thud and, immediately, Rachel tried to find her bearings.
She saw Percy and Annabeth discussing something a few feet away; Percy with an awed expression Rachel could relate to, and Annabeth looking particularly pleased with herself.
“You saved my life,” Rachel said, only a bit sorry for interrupting them.
Annabeth flexed her shoulder, as if it hurt. “Yeah, well… let's not make a habit of it. What are you doing here, Dare? Don't you know better than to fly into a war zone?”
“I—" Rachel glanced at Percy, trying to convey that they had to speak alone. She didn’t want to say that out loud, she was afraid it would offend Annabeth. Instead, she said: “I had to be here. I knew Percy was in trouble.”
“Got that right,” Annabeth scoffed. “Well, if you'll excuse me, I have some injured  friends I've got to tend to. Glad you could stop by, Rachel.”
Rachel sighed. It was the worst time in the universe to be thinking she wanted to be liked by a girl who had never so much as been neutral to her existence.
She dropped down on the curb and put her head in her hands. “I'm sorry, Percy. I didn't mean to… I always mess things up.”
And she was about to mess them up even worse when she told Percy her weird Force-vision had told her he wasn’t the hero. The hero of what? Rachel had no clue. But it wasn’t Percy.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
It was boiling hot by the time her dad’s chauffeur was to pick her up in a gas station nearby Camp.
Rachel had promised she’d go to that stupid finishing school, and she always kept her promises. 
Which meant she was now saying goodbye to her new friends and to the new world she’d become part of. 
“You'll do great,” Annabeth reassured her as she hugged her. 
Rachel tried not to blush. She was the Oracle now, and couldn’t think about hot people.
Still, it had been such a relief that Annabeth had warmed up to her at last. She’d been worried about invading her territory, after all, the daughter of Athena had been at Camp for ages, who was Rachel to invite herself into her turf?
But it didn't seem to bother her. If anything, she looked quite overjoyed about Rachel’s new job.
Rachel bit her lip before replying: “I hope you're right. I'm a little worried. What if somebody asks what's on the next math test and I start spouting a prophecy in the middle of geometry class?  The Pythagorean theorem shall be problem two… Gods, that would be embarrassing.”
Annabeth laughed, which made Rachel smile. Making Annabeth laugh was hard these days, what with everybody still mourning their losses. 
“Well,” she added, “you two be good to each other.”
Annabeth smiled ruefully, but Percy looked at her weird.
“What do you mean?”
Rachel shared a look with Annabeth.
“Nothing,” Rachel said. “Forget it.”
Percy tilted his head. “But—”
“Let go, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said, blushing slightly. “It’s awkward to have to explain.”
Rachel was a firm believer of not clarifying things if it made the matter worse, but clearly Annabeth wasn’t, and neither was Percy.
“Oh,” he said, giving Annabeth a shrug. “Because you think it’s funny that she dumped me without even dating me?”
Annabeth blushed harder.
Rachel said, “What?”
“Yeah, when we were in Olympus, remember?” Percy asked. “Sorry if it was a secret, I just thought it was ridiculous, a bit pathetic for me, but funny after it happened.”
“No,” Rachel shook her head. “I remember that, but I wasn’t dumping you.”
Annabeth waved a hand, clearly uncomfortable. “You don’t owe us any explanations, it’s okay that you liked him.”
“Him?” Rachel couldn’t believe her ears, nor the bemused faces both Percy and Annabeth had. “I didn’t have a crush on him,” she argued. She pointed at Annabeth. “I had a crush on you.”
“Oh.”
It was safe to say Rachel had never, nor would ever, see Annabeth look so astonished in her entire life.
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whiskydisky · 3 months ago
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alright buddy you asked for those headcanons....
a lot of them are for rachel for some reason, or just me projecting, or really out of character, I thought of them in the shower, blah blah blah you don't wanna hear me yap.
some of them are also just "____ reminds me of _____", and they shift past and present tense cause I'm STUPIDD so sorry
ANYWAY
Andre
Andre doesn't really have a definite music taste, he just listens to whatever Cal likes and whatever's on the radio (OR SO HE SAYS)
He was pretty much a straight A student, he probably would've even gotten a scholarship.
His family has had Mel since she was a kitten.
His favorite arcade games are those hunting simulators with the guns.
REPRESSED HOMOSEXUAL (obviously), but he probably would've never figured it out anyways.
If he was alive today he would've been one of those shitty misogynistic fortnite players that watch andrew tate and you can't change my mind.
His bed is the best thing you will ever lay on, it's so ridiculously comfortable.
out of character, but it's funny, so who cares. andre secretly LOVES pop music, but he never really gets a chance to listen to it.
cannot draw anything to save his life.
HATES musicals. absolutely despises them.
still sleeps with this one stuffed animal he's had since he was a kid. its a lamb.
THE HEAVIEST SLEEPER YOU WILL EVER MEET. it is almost impossible to wake him up unless he does it on his own.
he's red to me.
autistic. how many more characters will I project onto? only god knows.
necklace guy.
one of those white guys that punch holes in walls when they get mad.
pops his fingers a lot.
paranoid about balding. (AND FOR GOOD REASON.)
Cal
knew absolutely nothing about guns before andre started talking to him about them.
him and rachel were childhood friends.
had a MASSIVE cd collection. just shelves and shelves of cds in his room that him and andre would listen to when they hung out.
doesn't really like going out.
sonic fan. im not explaining he just seems like one.
his entire wardrobe is just black band shirts and jeans because black shirts "go with anything" (he isn't wrong).
bracelet guy.
a little spoiled, ends up spending money like an idiot because of it. (example, his massive cd collection)
the way he was bullied was either physically or those kinds of "my friend has a crush on you" type deals
huge music geek, and gets angry when andre doesn't keep up with all of the stuff he tells him about bands.
REPRESSED BISEXUAL. he probably would've figured it out.
middle school was the absolute worst for him.
says the absolute meanest shit about people and then says "but who am I to judge?" and thinks that covers it
absolutely loved chuck e cheese animatronics as a kid.
he's blue to me.
draws on himself a lot, just draws in general, it's a way for him to fidget.
definitely neurodivergent.
chews off the paint on his nails, and his nails.
Rachel
hums a lot.
not exactly a "popular kid" but people do hang out with her.
air hockey god, nobody can challenge her, they will lose.
earing girl.
people sometimes look at her weird for hanging out with cal, but she defends him.
had a little crush on cal, but nothing would've really come out of it anyway.
her house is super nice, like those grandma homes with the glass figures and useless decor with lace everywhere and uncomfortable couches to sit on. I'll send a picture if u don't know what I mean.
really nice to hang out with.
fidgets with her hoodie strings a lot.
one of those people that can adjust their personality depending on who they're hanging out with.
doesn't like andre because of his reputation and how cal acts around him (like how he actually is), but she doesn't actively bully or talk about him. she isn't that kind of person.
absolutely loved prom but the ride home was so incredibly awkward that it almost ruined the night for her.
has naturally curly hair, but doesn't really treat it right so it's pretty frizzy.
HATES it when car windows are down, her hair gets in her face a bunch.
also doesn't like putting her hair up unless it's really hot out.
paints cals nails. she knows he's a little 💅💅💅 but doesn't say anything.
really liked cal.
i do think she moved on, but it definitely took her a long time.
I'm very sick and tired of the "lesbian best friend" trope in caldre fics, she just doesn't seem like it to me.
falls asleep unnaturally quick.
absolutely loves going out, especially to malls or the park where she can walk and talk with people.
really good in school.
freshman year was horrible for her.
really likes reading and writing, she has a journal that she keeps to herself, it's one of those that have keys to them and stuff.
absolutely obsessed with unicorns as a kid. wanted them to be real so badly.
worried about how she'd look on her college application.
hung out with cal AND andre one time. did NOT like it and absolutely still talks to cal about how bad it was.
AND THAT'S IT... SO... YEAH!
THABK YOU SO MUCH FOR FUELING MY BRAIN AHHH I LOVE THESE SO MUCH!!!!!!
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fallen-gabrielle · 6 months ago
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Presidential/White House AU Headcanons compilation
Hello KND fandom! With friends from the discord server, we expanded the fake future from Operation: W.H.I.T.E.H.O.U.S.E. and made it an actual alternate universe/future.
I also decided to write a fanfic about it based on the headcanons we came up with 👀: Wrath of The White House, title suggested by @scarlett-v-the-fox. She also came up with a lot of headcanons about Lizzie's alien specie.
Many things come from the fact that President Uno gives major "I cheat on my wife with my secretary" vibes and we all just rolled with the idea. So yes, in this AU and fic, Adults!Nigel/Kuki is a thing and things get cra-zy between them, so I'm warning you, there will be a lot of adult stuff under the cut, such as freaky physical intimacy. If you don't like it for any reason, don't go further.
There's also a few things I left out from the list, because it would be kind of spoilery for the fic, but with this list you already know where you're getting yourself into, so no big surprises.
I will probably reblog this post when we explore the other characters not so mentioned here, but this is a good base to start.
Ok, are you ready for it? Remember, the following might make you uncomfortable so if you don't want to read it, just keep scrolling.
HEY I WARNED YOU, THERE WILL BE REALLY ADULT THEMED TOPICS, THIS IS MY FINAL WARNING, DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT THINGS YOU DIDN'T WANT TO SEE CUZ I GAVE TWO BIG WARNINGS ABOUT IT! FINAL CHANCE TO TURN BACK!!!
The main things that can be hard to read are: kinks, torture, domestic and child abuse. All of this will be explored in some degrees in the fic.
We good? Okay, here it is then!
President Nigel Uno/Wrath -Won the elections through shady means: bribes, blackmail and other illegal stuff. -He made it possible for him to be President for life -He's in charge of the English mob, who he sent people to do the dirty work -He also has his personal army of demons as henchmen who helped him with the shady means to become president -He has powers, but he hides them very well in the face of the public. -The whole demon lineage is a family secret that he didn't even tell Lizzie. -He is known in the undergrounds as Wrath and you really don't want to piss him off. -His silhouette form is the classic pitch black suit, he has claws and a dragon tail, as well as straight horns on his forehead. His hair is messy in this form as well. -He's an asshole. He cares more about his hair than his heir (plz laugh at this) -He had many love affairs but only a few were consistant (a lot of one night stand). He only had one kid out of it with Rachel. -He uses a lot of hair gel. When he doesn't, his hair are messy just like his son's (they basically have the same haircut if not combed)
Nigel and Kuki (that's where the freaky bed stuff is, guys) -They fuck in secret but some people know what's going on. -They get crazy in the sack, with a shit tons of kinks. -Seriously, they try stuff in the bedroom, they're really creative. Tickling that Nigel actually enjoyed, Kuki liking having her hair pulled a little bit. They both bite and love it. -Their kinks involve leather, chains and extreme role plays (she has a collar with his name on it) -Technically they're switches, they take turns on who's the dominant one, but Nigel secretely likes being the sub in their relationship bc he gets a break from being in charge, and he gets praised. He can't hear "good boy" without blushing. -They can't go to specialized clubs because they can be regognized so they do it in private places -They have a code in little gestures to warn the other when they want each other. When she fixes his ties for exemple. -Their relationship is purely physical intimacy, there is no romantic emotion between them. -Outside of the bedroom, and off duty, they're just friends. -After the act, Nigel and Kuki share some fluff moment, where they simply like the presence of each other and like to snuggle. -She is serious, strict and stern as the secretary but in private with Nigel she loosens up and is a real tigress in bed. -"I will work late tonight honey" => is actually with Kuki -In the morning, Kuki likes to exchange her glasses with his just for fun, but one time they actually had to rush to get out and still had the wrong glasses on their faces. For those who didn't already know about them, that's how they learned what's going on -Kuki always travels with him on his trips
Nigel and Rachel (plus her family) -He had an affair with her during the early years of his marriage with Lizzie. -They're still in love even to this day -They had a daughter together named Lucy, 14 years old -Nigel loves his daughter very much, she's his little princess -He clearly has a favorite, and it's his daughter -They've been keeping their love affair a secret from everyone, mostly -Rachel is also hiding her daughter from most people's knolwedge -Rachel ended her relationship with Nigel and put an end to his secret visits to his daughter because things got sus and Nigel was also starting to change as he became greedier and lusted for more powers. He wasn't the man she fell in love with anymore. -Nigel sends her money to support their daughter but Rachel never accepted the money as it comes from corrupted/dirty money. -Rachel is the head of national security -She knows all the hacking tricks in the book. She can bypass a n y t h i n g -Harvey knows about the secret child and absolutely despises Nigel (and so does he)
Nigel and Lizzie -Lizzie is the same overbearing and annoying person as ever -Lizzie suspects that Nigel has an affair with Kuki Sanban. -She has no clue about Rachel and the illegitimate daughter. But when she learns that fact, all hell will break loose -She will especially be super mad that Nigel got a daughter with another woman and she didn't. -When she does get a confirmation about Kuki, she has to keep it down because the scandal would be too much to handle. Also, Nigel would be worse to her if she throws fits. -She doesn't know the extent of what Nigel is doing with Kuki, just that he's cheating on her with the secretary -When they do get intimate, it's the most boring stuff ever. -Nigel absolutely doesn't know she's an alien. When he finds out, he sends her to Area 51 -He will torture her to know why she was sent to earth
Nigel and his parents/relatives -Actually the only people he's not a complete douchbag to. -He really loves his parents and they love him too. He just never has the time to visit them as much as he would want to. -But they still never approved of Lizzie. They hate her. -Mrs Uno occasionally mentions divorce to her son so that Nigel would someday click and dump Lizzie -Nigel is also close to his uncle Benedict. He taught his nephew how to use his powers when he got them in his 20s.
Nigel and Shirley -They have a very cold relationship -Nigel doesn't care much for his son's existence except when it comes to his own image -Nigel is more neglectful towards his son than he is verbally or physically abusive towards him -Nigel insists on his son being proper all the time. -He combs his son's hair whenever he thinks it's not perfect -When Shirley gets his alien genes activated and apparent, Nigel absolutely hates it and cuts them off violently. -He always scolds Shirley for being ‘too noisy/agitated’ when they visit his parents because they’re old people so therefore they mustn’t be rushed. But Monty and Margaret really don’t mind their grandson for doing what a kid is supposed to do. -Shirley doesn't know his dad has affairs and just thinks he's always busy on business trip and extended meetings. -Viggo finding dogs’ collars in his dad’s stuff: "wait, he secretly has a dog? And he always refused that I get one myself !!!" Poor boy doesn't know what this really means
Shirley/Viggo -He's part human/demon and uvinea (alien part) -He doesn't know his true lineage on either side (yet) -At some point, he will start having flowers growing on his head -His vines can be torn apart and it hurts, but they will grow back -He doesn't know anything about his father's infidelity drama, including his older half sister -He really despises his dad in general -He admires Numbuh 1, whom he doesn't actually know that's his dad -I let you imagine the shock when he'll find out the truth xD -Leopold Lincoln/Numbuh 5'000 is his best friend -Shirley spends some times at the Lincolns', because Leo's dad is so much nicer than his own and wishes to have a dad like Leo's -Despite how dysfunctional his family is, Shirley still hopes that one day they could be a "normal family". -He loves his grandparents a lot (who doesn't tbh) -Nigel and Lizzie fight a lot for small things as well as the bigger ones (Nigel’s cheating for exemple) and it’s too much for Shirley so he goes to his grandparents’ place to have some calm and wholesomeness or sometimes to the Lincolns' -He hates the cold
Fanny & Patton plus friends -They're married and have a daughter -Her name is Sheila and her codename is Numbuh 860, soopreme leader -Patton is in the army but doesn't have a high position -He has to put up with Wally's bs all the time -He's away from home a lot -Fanny, as head of Nigel's security guards, records the shenanigans between the President and his Secretary and keeps the tapes as off-brand for herself. -She's actually supposed to delete anything scandalous about the President but eh, she sometimes blackmails Nigel with it. -She sometimes watches it with her colleague Chad and her husband when he gets back home -They all treat it like it's a fictional tv drama show -Therefore, they know all the dirty little secrets the President Uno has in the sack -She gossips about everything going on in the White House with her colleagues but makes sure nothing get out really (her boss is Nigel, remember) -Fanny actually does know about the Nigel/Rachel affair, because she is friend with Rachel -Fanny talks Rachel into watching the tapes. Rachel reluctantly agrees, and she's speechless until she mutters over halfway in, "Why couldn't we do any of that stuff? Damn."
Abigail Lincoln -Married to Maurice, he took her last name. -She was arrested under false accusations/She tried to organize a coup against his administration and failed -Nigel tortures her to get info from her (mostly about the knd) -She lost her right eye during one torture session -She was never decomissioned as she was tasked as a teenager and later as an adult to look after Nigel. Obviously she failed. -She is constantly tormenting herself about the fact she wasn't able to save Nigel -She was also part of Nigel's administration and she refused to help him in his corruption
Leopold/Numbuh 5'000 -His dad is Maurice -He's Shirley's best friend and always calls him by his nickname Viggo -He doesn't freak out nor is scared of his friend when he gets his powers -He kinda fanboys about it, actually, which makes Viggo cringe a few times -He writes and collect letters from the family for his mom. -He sneaks into the prison to bring her the letters and pastries his dad baked for his wife -He has to make his visits more sparce to avoid getting caught -“Dad misses you” “Dad brought you this” “Dad is working on your case” -He failed to protect his mom from being jailed and feels really guilty about it -He's a brave kid, but he still cries late at night for his mother. -His aunt Cree also helped raising him while Abby is imprisoned
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imagoddamnonionmason · 2 months ago
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Howdy Goose! What do you think Steph’s family would think about Zach when they met for the first time? I imagine they wouldn’t think he’s ’masculine enough’, due to the fact he was in therapy, not understanding that bro literally has hallucinations cause of Afghanistan.
Zach would be respectful, get both his mother in law and Rachel flowers, but wouldn’t stand for any ‘jokes’ about Steph. He’d be subtle about it, but would stand up for her if they made any comments about her.
(Why do I imagine Rachel would try to flirt with him unless she’s married 🤢)
I think her Dad, Richard, would actually be very accepting; he's a man who's fought for his country, he takes care of his daughter and the two seem to be very in love. But this man is especially blind to the life the both he and Stephanie have lived, the experiences they have had and the trauma that they learned to live with. I think it comes down to not understanding, but made worse by his lack of not realising that there's issues there that need to be understood, so there would be quite the disconnect. It's not intentional disconnect, but I don't think that Richard and Zach's father-son relationship would ever go any deeper than a surface level. It'll never go beneath a surface Zach allows him to see because, quite frankly, who talks about their trauma gained from war and especially with a man who has the emotional capacity of a pre-fried chip. You know, that part of the process where the potato is just a soggy wet slice of blandness.
I think later on in life, Richard would regret not getting to know him better, regret not trying harder to understand him and would genuinely wish he could turn back time to thank him more for taking care of his daughter and giving her a family she loves so dearly. But, regrets hang heavy around the neck and his back hurts from the weight of them.
Regarding the wife and daughter?
Huh. Yeah, I feel like Agatha would be that type of Step Mom that would hide awful remarks behind non genuine concern. It would be comments towards Steph's hair, her body, her looks, the scars on her arm, sides and thighs. It's taken a while for Stephanie to become indifferent to the marks on her skin, having gone through a lot of shit trying to reconcile the connection of the scars to the shit that happened in Afghanistan. So then for Agatha to make comments like "oh, I know you struggle with how people see those scars, so I got you this to try and hide them! We don't want to be scaring kids with ugly things like that! We don't want you getting upset!" Like, fuck off, right? I love the idea that Zach would straight up just be thinking "why don't you mind your fucking mouth, Aggie, before someone minds it for you." But really he's so calculated about how he claps back.
Agatha or Rachael make a comment on her, maybe her hair, like "oh, did you style your hair like that today? What a... choice! It could only suit you." "I was thinking the same about yours, Rachael, no one else could pull off something like that."
ON THE TOPIC OF RACHAEL THOUGH
She would flirt with him. Imagine it's like... idk a family get-together and there's a lot of extended family present. Stephanie didn't really want to go, but she does because it's good for Zach Jr to see family and while Stephanie is sorting out Zach Jr, Zach Sr is just chilling in the kitchen waiting with his Wife's drink.
Rachael saunters in, maybe a few too many drinks in than she should be, and comes to stand in front of Zach. She watching him with a furtively coy stare with the slightest attempt of a flirtatious upturn of her lips and sucks on the straw of her drink. Zach isn't even looking at her. He's just doing his job of keeping his eye on his wife's drink and speaking with those who deserve his time.
She tries flirting a little more overtly, and it would be this that catches his attention because like??? This bitch? really being so forward?
I don't think she'd take lightly being shut down, probably still got that stereotypically snotty popular girl attitude of 'every man thinks I'm god's gift' and she thinks 'he wants me, not my step-sister'. Being told no would probably lead to her having a petulant reaction.
I also don't think even marriage would stop Rachael from flirting with him - I imagine her bagging such a lovely guy but she treats him like shit. She's that kind of person. Probably ends up divorced and the ex-husband finds someone better and lives happily. Good for him, Steph and Zach would think, and he dodged a bullet.
Let me know if there's anything else you'd add!! This was fun to think about 😎
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