#i have plans for other cards with other characters

[kumkaniudaku]

Mine

Summary: Happy Valentine's Day!

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut (18+)

Flurries of Valentine's candy grams and foil balloons filled Patrice's 3rd-period senior AP English classroom as she ran through a reflection question on August Wilson's Fences. While February was set aside for love, it was also the one time Mrs. Richmond was allowed to discuss Black literature in the school year without pushback from administration and parents alike. 

Just as pencils hit the paper to answer why Friday nights were significant for the play's central characters, a short beep and static filled the intercom system in the classroom. 

"Ms. Ellis -"

"It's Richmond," the class sang in chorus, earning a smile from Patrice. 

The voice on the other end chuckled before course-correcting. "Mrs. Richmond, we have a delivery in the front office for you. Do you want to come get it or send a student?" 

"Uh, I'll send someone down," Patrice answered. She pointed at her most responsible senior and silently directed him to grab the hall pass. "Can you say what it is? I didn't order anything." 

"Sorry. We're under strict instructions not to spoil the surprise." 

Terry. She didn't need additional explanation to figure out who'd taken time from their day to send a gift and request silence from strangers. He was cool as a cucumber when he left for work in the morning, but the uncharacteristic lilt in his voice on the way to a place he frequently expressed disdain towards was a dead giveaway he'd be dropping their promise to skip gifts and enjoy a quiet evening. 

Pregnancy and all its financial planning meant no money in reserves. No honeymoon, no big trips, and nothing extravagant for holidays. An unfortunate byproduct of looming parenthood on a modest income, but Patrice had made her peace with it all. They'd get the time back when Baby Richmond was old enough to spend a few days with their parents.

Anticipation collided with excitement as a bouquet of snowdrops and roses eclipsing her student's head was wheeled around the corner. Only her husband would commit seasonal flowers to memory from an offhanded conversation about rotating seeds in her garden for the spring. Whoever he'd paid to expertly arrange her winter staples into such a stunning display deserved their fair share of coins and then some. 

'Treece, Will you be mine?' scribbled in Terry's signature handwriting sat above a QR code on a small white card, eager for Patrice's attention once she got her hands around the ornate vase. 

"Mrs. Richmond got a valentiiine," one student teased to draw laughter from everyone in the room. 

That she did. It was her first in years and the one she'd longed for the whole time. She couldn't hide her smile when she took the final few minutes of reflection time to scan the code and watch her phone screen light up with another message after eagerly tapping the 'yes' option. 

"Merci, mon amour. I still owe you a honeymoon. I hope tonight will keep you excited until we get to touch Paris with our own two feet. See you soon. Je t'aime."

A goofy grin pressed past the neutral facade Patrice tried to maintain while butterflies fluttered inside her belly. Light jeering from students awaiting instruction and any piece of their favorite teacher's business she was willing to pass down only pushed her growing smile further across her face. 

Patrice read the message one more time for the road and clasped her hands together. "Alright! If we have some thought-provoking responses today, everybody gets their lowest grade dropped. Deal?" 

Long after his wife had made agreements with a cohort of 17 and 18-year-olds, Terry stood in their quaint kitchen, carefully placing beignets in the oven to keep warm. For all his exhaustive research into easy Parisian dishes to replicate at home, he knew his limits and how to circumnavigate the one thing Patrice specifically desired to taste in Paris. He searched high and low for the perfect dupe, drove nearly an hour away, almost fell behind in the cooking process, and still didn't regret going out of his way for the perfectly golden French donuts.

Steak awaiting its introduction to a sizzling pan rested near wrapped cowboy butter from Terry's father and a bowl of cut fries floating in ice-cold water. Oil popped as it reached its target cooking temperature. A bottle of non-alcoholic wine sat in a bucket flanked by the good dishes Patrice reserved for special occasions and another seasonal bouquet. In the living room, Marvin Gaye's 'I Want You' spun 'round and 'round on Patrice's old vinyl player, filling the house with some of Terry's favorite tracks. Candles lit strategically cast shadows on the walls for an added level of romance. The live stream of the Eiffel Tower taking over their wall-mounted TV looked out of place, but Terry wasn't willing to part with the silly addition meant to add realism to the night. 

Terry's humming kept his mind on track in a whirlwind of pans and dwindling time. The night had to be perfect. After years of wasted time and missed opportunities, he owed Patrice his best effort in their inaugural celebration. 

A car door slamming shut just as piping hot homemade frites were freed from the frying process made Terry's eyes flicker up to the wall clock to check the time. Finally, she was home. Work and responsibilities had already sucked up too much of her time. He planned to take up what was left with his undivided attention. 

After dusting his hands on a dish towel, Terry stepped out of the kitchen to meet the love of his life at the living room's threshold. 

Her grin, full of mirth and crafted solely for his pleasure, made his stomach turn a flip. He leaned against the wooden frame, watching her hang her coat on the hoot. "Hé, ma belle." 

"Wow. He's fine as all hell and speaks French? I'm a lucky girl." Patrice's compliment came with arms outstretched to wrap around Terry's neck. Strong hands pulled her close until his nose was pressed to pulse at her neck. She giggled into his ear. "Hi, Pooh Bear. Happy Valentine's Day. Thank you for my gift." 

Terry murmured into Patrice's neck. "Of course. Happy Valentine's Day, baby." He squeezed her sides before pulling back to kiss her forehead. "You like your flowers?" 

"I did. They're beautiful. Who taught you about snowdrops and QR codes, old man?" Her lighthearted jab came with long, slender fingers gently stroking his chest overtop his fresh black t-shirt. 

"The QR code came from the annoying ass Wyatt. Felt like I should get something out of always having to hear him talk shit about the Panthers." Terry took hold of Patrice's hand to drop kisses on her knuckles. "The flower knowledge came from this really pretty girl I know from way back. You think she'd be cool with havin' dinner with me tonight?"

Patrice felt herself returning to the shy girl of her youth. "She'd love to. Can she have a minute to clean up?" 

"Take all the time you need. Dinner will be ready when you come out." 

Two lingering kisses on her lips and a two-hand squeeze on her backside sent Patrice squealing around the corner and into the bedroom while Terry set off to finish preparing the night's meal. 

Wafts of Terry's cologne intertwined with Patrice's perfume in the bathroom's humidity, caught in a tango while she stood in front of the mirror trying to tame bags beneath tired eyes with concealer. Excitement coursed through her veins like her first date with the man of her dreams was on the other side of another light layer of perfectly pink blush. She couldn't fix her hair, dab lip gloss on her full lips, or slide on the floor-length lounge dress she purchased fast enough. Every second spent outside of Terry's presence felt like torture until she was sauntering into the kitchen to find him awaiting her arrival at the kitchen table. 

A low whistle passed through slightly pursed lips. "Sometimes I still can't believe you chose me," Terry started, his hand outstretched for Patrice to grab hold. "Come here. Let me see you up close." 

Patrice took slow steps forward to revel in Terry's attention, loving the way he seemed to see nothing else in the room but her. No flaws, no rising insecurities – only the most perfect version of the girl he fell in love with before love truly had meaning. 

"If you spend all night looking at me, we're gonna waste your baby letting me keep food down all week. I need those beignets in the oven," she joked as soon as she was close enough for him to grab.

With her hand in his, Terry helped Patrice spin in a slow circle, drinking in every inch of her body before stopping to pull her into his lap. "I can't hide anything from your mommy. You gave her a super nose." His words came in a soft, silly voice he almost couldn't control as he rubbed the slight pudge of Patrice's belly. "This dinner is very special, champ. Let us enjoy tonight, okay?" 

"All of it, you hear? Your daddy brought Paris to us, and I will eat this steak whether you like it. Well done and all!" 

Baby Richmond had no objections to well-done steak and crispy frites, even fighting for more of their father's rare cooking as conversation meandered between the day's happenings and the type of mushy romantic back and forth that sounded almost too cheesy to be true. Terry and Patrice ate, drank, and traveled down memory lane until their stomachs ached and their eyes were misty from laughter.

Things I Love About Terry. Terry smiled as he scrolled through the digital scrapbook Patrice crafted to get around their gifting rule. Reason #8 was his favorite: I love when we kiss, and he doesn't want to pull away. It reminds me of our first one every time. 

He chuckled. "That's cute that you still remember that. It's also cute that you think this doesn't count as a gift."

"No! We had a no paid gift rule. I didn't spend money on it. Which you broke first, by the way." 

"Flowers are not a gift. They come with the service." Terry listened to Patrice regard his Boondocks callback with a mumbled 'whatever' and smiled before locking his phone. "But, since free gifts don't count, I have something for you." 

Patrice danced in her seat, preparing for another sweet treat to satisfy her cravings. "Is it a turnover? I hope it's a turnover." 

"You're pushing it, Treece. Don't make me tell your business at the next appointment." 

"Snitch." 

Terry shook his head at her mumbled insult while he dug behind containers of protein powder in the one cupboard she had never opened for the gift he'd been holding since the day things bloomed, burned, and resurrected between them.

If not for his mother's antsy mind getting the better of her earlier in the week, Terry would've never uncovered the gem hidden in his childhood bedroom's closet. The weathered outer cover had long been scrubbed free of any identifiable marker of its contents, but page after page of dated ramblings reminded him of all the lofty goals he'd written as a teen. Dreams of a booming NFL career and a utopian society concocted from a naive mind littered each page. 

He flipped and laughed for several minutes until he reached the entry coincidentally dated for his 16th birthday. Imagine you've jumped 10 years into the future and are writing a letter to your current self. What might your life look like? Talk about your career, family, and any additional details you desire. 

The "love letter," as his father called the two-page plan for his next decade of life. Terry had gone to great lengths to hide it after Marvin's teasing, guarding the speckled notebook with his life and tossing it into his closet once the schoolyear ended to rid himself of the embarrassment. He never expected to live out much of the wishful thinking penned on the withering, yellow pages of yesteryear, much less share them with the subject of his affection then and now. 

Patrice watched Terry slide the open notebook across the table with a quizzical look, glancing down at half-legible chicken scratch and then back up at her husband. "What's this?" 

"It's history," he answered plainly with a secretive smile. He slid into his seat and pointed at the notebook. "Can you read that to me?" 

More questions bounced behind Patrice's eyes, but she saved them all to fulfil Terry's wish with no pushback. Blinking the blur from old contact lenses, she started from the top. 

"Hey Past Terry. It's you from the future. I know you have a bunch of questions, but I'm only going to answer the important ones. You'll just have to figure out the rest on your own. It wouldn't be as fun if I gave you all the answers. To start, your life is completely different. You haven't won a championship yet, but you're close. You'll get there soon, and when you do, it'll be the biggest story on ESPN. You'll get to watch all the talk in your big house in California that overlooks the beach. It's nice. You get to go down there every day during the offseason." Patrice smiled and looked up at Terry. "We both owe Young Terry at least a weekend at the beach." 

Terry's half smile grew wider. "We'll do Hilton Head before the baby comes. Keep readin’.” 

"Damn, the cure to cancer must be in here," Patrice joked before continuing. 

"California is a great place to raise a family. You don't have any kids yet, but you and your wife are thinking about it. I don't want to spoil who it is, but at some point, you'll try to get her to stop working…again. It doesn't matter how much you try to convince her, she still wants to work because she's good at her job. She's good at everything. So, give up and let her do what she wants." 

Patrice still hadn't connected the dots as she looked back up at Terry and smirked. "Well, sorry to whoever that lady is. Maybe in another lifetime."

"Yeah," he laughed before Patrice moved to the next paragraph. "Maybe."

"Not to get too mushy, but we really love her. It's not like the silly, made-up love in movies. It's the love mom and dad have. The kind where you laugh and joke all the time. She's still stubborn, but you know how to talk to her better, so you argue a lot less. At least about the serious stuff. That's the cool part about marrying your best friend. You know each other for a long time and things just make sense because they always have when she's around." 

Patrice wished she could blame the catch in her throat and the sting of tears at her waterline on pregnancy hormones and not the rush of sudden realization once she looked up at Terry. "Oh, Terrence. That's me." she sniffled, trying to catch stray droplets before they hit the page and distorted the next lines. 

"When you win on Sunday and Monday nights, she's always on the sidelines to tell you that you played a good game, except when you don't. Then she gets all sassy like she used to in school. She still doesn't like football all that much, but she shows up anyway in your jersey. It's dope."

"Some of that held up," Terry chimed in, half-joking as he reached across the table for Patrice's free hand. "You still don't like football, and don't hold back if I'm fucking up." 

She laughed and shrugged. "At least I'm consistent." 

Consistent, his greatest support system, the most complete love he'd ever known – Terry could go down the list rattling off Patrice's best attributes and contributions but preferred to let her read the most intense thoughts his limited teenaged mind could concoct in a 15-minute journal entry.

"I'm probably not supposed to tell you the truth, but I don't know if all of this will come true. I'm not asking you to do all that, even though having all that money would be super cool! Just make sure you're happy. Be happy and marry your best friend as soon as you think she'll say yes. I'll be pretty mad if you don't do that. Hopefully, you'll be writing a letter to me soon. I wanna know if it all panned out."

Thirty-plus-year-old Terry considered writing back to his younger self many times. Once, after basic training when the anguish of a newly broken heart and being ripped away from the comforts of home brought with it what he later came to know as a deep depression. Then again, on his 26th birthday, for continuity's sake. The third time, he'd typed his way through four pages of explanation, needing to level set with a past version of himself regarding all the ways he'd come up short but planned to make good on all his promises. He couldn't bring himself to continue when he reread three days worth of incoherent thoughts. Not without all the pieces to the puzzle. Now, though, with a rock on his best friend's ring finger and happiness permeating every layer of his being, he could think of more than a few things to write about. 

"A lot of my life was never part of the plan," Terry started once Patrice had read off the letter's final goodbye. "I wasn't supposed to be a Marine or still live in Fayetteville past my 18th birthday. I'm damn sure if that version of me were around, he'd be fuckin' pissed we haven't seen the ocean in over 20 years," he laughed along with Patrice as she pushed water droplets off her round cheeks. "But, baby, you have always been the goal. Even when I was stupid and far away. I need you to know that." 

Sure, Patrice understood the words from his lips and the fact that they were some of the sweetest sentiments she'd ever had directed in her favor. Grasping Terry's love, enduring for over a decade in all its staggering depth and complexity, was something totally different – something she'd spend lifetimes trying to unpack. 

Still, she allowed her legs to carry her and their unborn child around the table to sit in her second favorite seat, just to feel his warmth radiate across her skin. "I know." Soft lips connected for a sweet kiss their younger selves would blush at if they were present. Patrice cupped Terry's face in her hands. "Thank you for loving me the way you always have, babe. When you write back to that version of yourself, I hope you tell him how much I love being by your side. I loved you then, and I love you even more now. Make sure you tell him that, okay? Tell him he wasn't the only one excited about marrying their best friend one day." 

"I'll let him know." A partial truth. He'd eventually get around to trying out the journal his mother had gifted him years ago and unleashing years of updates onto lined pages. He owed 2009 Terry a rundown of what his life had become. 

But Terry couldn't tell such a young, impressionable mind about how they explored each other like professionals deep into the night. He couldn't share how her skin still felt like premium silk against his all these years later. Or how he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be inside her. One time wasn't enough. Twice couldn't come close. He needed her until he was a panting, weak mess. And even when he felt like he couldn't go anymore, hearing Patrice call his name for one last time energized him enough to push the thought of fatigue to the back of his mind. 

With her head hanging off the right edge of the bed and looking up at him expectantly, Terry leaned down to kiss her plump, swollen lips. "After this, we're getting ready for bed, okay?" 

"Yes, sir." Though sweet as pie, the glint in Patrice's dark eyes communicated the final decision was all hers. They were done when she was done. 

Her fingers danced up her torso, taking a short pitstop at nipples saluting their favorite person to twist and pull before taking hold of her prize for the night. Terry jerked forward as he watched her under heavy lids. He'd get to his end of the bargain in a few. Watching her slide his leaking tip across her pursed lips was the main attraction. She hummed to herself, satisfied with the small mess she'd made across her mouth, before welcoming him inside her throat. 

Terry caressed her cheek, using his thumb to clean up wayward saliva. "Two taps when you need a break. One when you want to stop."

Patrice took in the instructions and discarded them just as quickly. His care was endearing, but she didn't wait over a decade for their first Valentine's Day together to take a break. Breathing through her nose, she took him in inch by inch, stroking the back of his thighs lovingly while he hissed and moaned his way through shallow strokes. 

Modified 69 needed two to make the experience complete. Blinking back into the present, Terry reached across the comforter to grab the fully charged purple stimulator, waiting to jump into the fun. His rough palms rubbed a soothing path across her belly, stopping to appreciate the gentle slope on his way to the warmth between her thighs. 

"Keep 'em open for me, pretty," he murmured, more focused on the clear strings of arousal connecting his fingers to her clit. He pulled them back to savor her taste for the umpteenth time. A light smack against her pussy produced a needy moan that sounded like music to his ears. 

Rhythmic suction on both ends of the spectrum kept them loud enough to wake the neighborhood. The depths of Patrice's throat were always a welcomed home for him. Wet and sloppy head the way he liked it kept Terry grinding the vibrator against her clit to feel the vibration of her moans against him. As much as they wanted to go forever, this type of pleasure would ensure forever didn't last too long.

Saliva pooled at the corners of Patrice's lips. Glistening arousal from being edged over and over with her small but mighty little friend created a puddle on the towel beneath her behind. She cried for relief Terry wasn't willing to grant. He wanted a photo finish – something to make their first Valentine's fuck worth it. He pulled the toy away and slowly slid himself out of her mouth, earning a small mewl in disappointment. 

He grinned down at her before gripping her chin. "Tongue out for me, Piggy." Patrice did as she was told, receiving her favorite form of payment in return. Spit kept them tethered to each other in a lewd display of affection until she had all she could handle. "You ready?" 

"Mhmm," she hummed, nodding despite the ache in her neck. 

Casting the toy aside and bracing himself on the bed, Terry resolved to let himself go and give Patrice what she really wanted. Methodical strokes to elicit gags and gargles sexy enough to make any man combust filled the room while he fucked her face silly. A fantasy turned into a reality. She held herself steady by his thighs, pressing crescents into the flesh as the bed rocked beneath her. Time turned into an outdated, meaningless concept second to receiving and giving pleasure in her world.

"Fuck," Terry whispered to the ceiling with his eyes clamped shut. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm about to –" 

Patrice wanted to tell him he had nothing to be sorry for. He'd given her sweet gestures, affirming words, and absolute filth in equal measure. She felt like she should've been thanking him instead. Her only regret was being deprived of seeing the look on his face when he crossed the finish line and drained himself on her chin and throat with a shuddering moan he didn't have time to be embarrassed about. Terry's hands pumped at his shaft until he was spent and gasping for breath, leaving Patrice to run her hands up and down his hips for comfort. 

But one was not two, and she still deserved her happy ending. Terry's trembling fingers regained enough strength to grab the still buzzing helper and press it against Patrice's clit, not letting up as her hips jolted off the bed and her thighs tried to close. 

He held one leg against the mattress and pulled his lip beneath his top row of teeth to remain focus. 

She called his name for mercy, but the plea went unanswered. "Terrence!" Still nothing. Only the maniacal flash of lust in his eyes greeted her. "Oh my – ooooh! It's too much! It's too much."

It wasn't enough. Not until her body seized and heavy breathing turned into silent gasps. Patrice gripped him tight as she used all her strength to prop up on her elbows and take part in the water show unfolding beneath her. Two firsts in one night. 

"That's my girl," Terry praised without letting up. "That's my good girl. You see what you doin'?" 

"Yes!" Patrice shouted, unable to stop her body from reacting. 

Terry bent at the waist to kiss the top of her head. "Breathe, Treecey. Don't hold it in." 

In through your nose, out through your mouth. The words became muffled in Patrice's ears, only gaining clarity when the ringing ceased and her breathing evened. She leaned against Terry's chest to smile up at him, covered in his essence, finally satisfied. "I look insane, huh?"

Terry plucked at a stray lash extension and chuckled. "You look beautiful. My pretty baby." He kissed her forehead. "Always have been. Mean it." 

His. In sickness and in health. For rich or for poor. On Valentine's Day or a random Wednesday afternoon. Terry, in all his life's stages and every universe, Patrice Ellis Richmond was known to him as one word: mine.

—————-

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger @nyifly22

[overthedeadsea]

— Press Tour Shenanigans

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Co-star!reader x Kelvin Harrison Jr.

Summary: chaotic, flirty, and slightly unhinged interview energy between the trio. More of a Aaron x reader (wink), jealousyyyy.

A/n: since I can’t see the finish line of this obsession with the mufasa duo, I’m going to unleash all my demons here on tumblr <3

— You were seated between Aaron Pierre and Kelvin Harrison Jr.,cameras rolling, microphones pinned, and a well-meaning interviewer sitting across from the three of you. It was supposed to be a standard press junket—talk about the film, give some behind-the-scenes insight, and maybe throw in a funny anecdote.

But these two? Oh, these two had other plans.

Kelvin leaned forward first, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay, so what y’all need to know is that [Y/N] is actually the diva of this cast.”

You gasped, whipping your head toward him. “Excuse me? Me?!”

Aaron, sitting coolly on your other side, nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I mean… I wasn’t gonna say anything, but now that Kelvin brought it up—”

Your jaw dropped. “Not you too!”

Kelvin grinned. “Nah, let’s talk about it. The personal assistant situation? The specific snack demands?”

You threw up your hands. “I asked for one very normal, very reasonable thing—peach-flavored sparkling water! That is NOT diva behavior!”

Aaron rubbed his jaw, pretending to think. “Mmm. But when they brought you raspberry instead?”

Kelvin snickered. “You told the intern to ‘rethink their life choices.’”

“Jokingly!” you shot back, eyes wide. “It was sarcasm!”

Aaron side-eyed you playfully. “Was it though?”

You turned fully to him now, pointing a finger. “Why are you agreeing with him? I thought we were friends.”

Aaron smirked, his voice dipping into that smooth, teasing tone. “We are.That’s why I feel safe enough to call you out.”

Kelvin gasped dramatically. “Ohhh, wow. Betrayal. On camera, too.”

The interviewer, barely holding back laughter, finally cut in. “Okay, so… who’s actually the diva between the three of you?”

Aaron and Kelvin exchanged a look. Without hesitation, they both pointed at each other.

“Oh, it’s him,” Aaron said at the same time Kelvin blurted, “Oh, it’s definitely him.”

You folded your arms. “Wow. The AUDACITY.”

Aaron chuckled. “I mean… Kelvin does have main character energy.”

Kelvin gasped, hand on his chest. “And Aaron is literally the ‘mystery man with the voice that makes people weak.’”

You nodded sagely. “He does have that ‘if he speaks, the whole room listens’ vibe.”

Aaron raised a brow, smirking at you now. “Oh? You been noticing?”

Kelvin let out a loud, exaggerated “OOOOHHHH,” making you groan.

“See?” You pointed at Kelvin. “He’s the actual menace.”

Kelvin shrugged. “Listen, I’m just here to tell the truth.”

Aaron glanced at you, voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch. “And what’s your truth?”

You blinked. Oh. He was really using that voice right now? On camera??

Kelvin threw his hands up. “Nope. Nope. Not on my watch! We are NOT about to have a whole moment in the middle of this interview.”

The interviewer, officially losing it, buried their face in their cue cards. “I have completely lost control of this session.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You know what? I was gonna be professional today.”

Kelvin grinned. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

Aaron smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes glinting as he looked between you and Kelvin. “Exactly.”

And just like that, the interview spiraled even further into chaos.

The interview had already gone off the rails, but somehow, things were about to get even worse.

The interviewer, finally regaining some semblance of control, smiled at the three of you. “Okay, let’s bring it back for a second. We have a fun question for you all. Who’s your celebrity crush?”

You hummed, tapping your chin. “Oh, that’s easy. Henry Cavill.”

Silence.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the camera rolling. Then—

Kelvin’s entire face lit up. “OHHHH, that’s gonna be a problem.”

You blinked. “What?”

Kelvin immediately pointed at Aaron, who was suddenly very interested in the bottle of water in his hands, twisting the cap with way too much focus.

“Ayo, Aaron, you good?” Kelvin teased, nudging him with his elbow.

Aaron, to his credit, played it cool—too cool. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, nah, I’m good.”

But you saw the way his jaw clenched just a little. The way his fingers gripped that water bottle just a bit tighter.

Kelvin wasn’t about to let this slide. “Nahhh, ‘cause why did your whole vibe just change?”

Aaron exhaled, flashing a relaxed smile. “I’m chill.”

Kelvin leaned forward, squinting. “You sure? ‘Cause a second ago, you were all ‘Oh, Y/N, what’s your truth?’ and now you real quiet.”

Aaron scoffed, finally looking at you. “She said Henry Cavill, man. What do you want me to say?”

You smirked. “You could say ‘great choice.’”

Aaron arched a brow. “Could I?”

Kelvin lost it.“NAHHH, HE’S MAD.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, it’s not that deep.”

Aaron gave a slow nod, taking a sip of his water. “Right. Not that deep.”

Kelvin nudged you. “Y/N, ask him his celebrity crush. Do it.”

You turned to Aaron, challenging. “Yeah, Pierre. Who’s yours?”

Aaron met your gaze, and something shifted. His smirk returned, slow and deliberate, as he leaned in just slightly.

“You.”

Kelvin screamed. The interviewer covered their face with cue cards. You? You just sat there, stunned.

Aaron leaned back, smug as hell, taking another sip of water like he hadn’t just casually flipped the entire vibe on its head.

You cleared your throat. “I—uh—okay.”

Kelvin was wheezing. “OH, YOU FOLDED! You FOLDED SO FAST!”

Aaron just shrugged, completely unbothered. “What can I say? Gotta speak my truth.”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck. Damn him. Damn that voice.

The interviewer sighed, defeated. “Yeah… I’m never getting this back on track, am I?”

Kelvin and Aaron, in unison: “Nope.”

And just like that, the chaos continued.

A/n: SO HOW DO WE LIKE ITTTT??? I have a whole mini series planned down I can bomb it anytime if you guys like it ~~

[itsnathateasy]

aot characters and "will you be my valentine?"❣️

word count: 1,8k warnings: mentions of alcohol includes: eren, armin, jean, connie, reiner, bertholdt, ymir, levi, hange, erwin a/n: DON’T COME AT ME i’m not really a fan of valentine’s day either, but i hope i did a decent job with this short thingy here hehe! enjoy!

In all honesty, Eren never expected you to ask him to be your valentine and I don’t think he had any plans of asking you either. “We’re already dating, right? We’re each other’s valentines by default!” “Yes, buuut why not make it a little more special?” and then you’d present him with the most ridiculous valentine’s day gift you could lay your hands upon. I’m talking festive underwear, socks with your face printed on them and those silly cards with hearts popping when you open them. Eren isn’t the type to be surprised, let alone show it. But you got him there, and you got him good. He can’t contain his laughter at your silly gifts and he’s honestly so happy to receive them! And even though “you’re each other’s valentines by default” (smh eren🤦) he did get you a gift. It’s been wrapped and waiting for you in your side of the closet, right behind your shoe boxes. Did I mention it’s been in there for the past two weeks or so? Yeah, Eren is so pathetic for you, but he’s trying his hardest not to let it show.

You probably know this already, but Armin asked you to be his valentine in the cutest way. He handmade you a card, a quite elaborate one too, and he wrote a long ass message about how much he loves and appreciates you. He left it on your bedside table for you to find the moment you wake up, because he sadly had to leave earlier than usual. When you texted him a while later that you saw the card and that it was the sweetest thing, he had your favourite coffee and cinnamon rolls delivered to your door with the promise that “there’s more to come, this day is for you only!” The rush he was getting from spoiling you like this was insane. What could you possibly do to top his actions? It was barely 9 a.m. and Armin had already managed to surprise you twice! It made you feel like the gift you got him and the dinner reservations you’d made weren’t good enough. No matter what you’d came up with, he surely had something even greater planned. The troubles of dating a literal mastermind I guess!

Mikasa didn’t want to celebrate valentine’s day. She really didn’t want to. But then she realised you kept giving her hints about gift ideas and that you ‘had a surprise for her’ for that evening and the signs were too overwhelming to ignore. Okay, if it’s that important to you, she’d celebrate it as well. She didn’t really know where to begin at first, but, thank heavens for pinterest, she quickly navigated herself around the do’s and dont’s of valentine’s day. When you came back home, your house looked like a florist’s. Mikasa had bought a bunch of bouquets and pots and she added ribbons and hearts on basically every single item you’d ever owned. “I thought you didn’t like valentine’s day, Mikasa! What’s all this?” You honestly couldn’t believe your eyes! “Are they enough? Should I have gotten more?” For someone who was doing this for the first time, she’d exceeded all expectations!

Now, Jean… WHERE DO I BEGIN?? The boy cooked big time! Bought you a gift. Orchestrated an entire fake emergency to get you to meet him and the most romantic spot in the city and pulled his grand gesture of asking you to be his valentine. He hired drones DO YOU HEAR ME? He wanted you to remember this day! (Even though he keeps pulling grander and grander gestures each year, he wants to document EVERYTHING!). He’s doing his best to recreate scenes taken out from fairytales and plant those core memories inside your brain. He’s probably booked a restaurant too, but, to be honest with you, the entire set up he managed to create, was enough of a gift. It didn’t matter if there was a date afterwards. Waaaait… Why is your house decorated too? And why is it bursting with boxes as if it’s Christmas??? Jean’s gone overboard… AGAIN!

Connie was a bit of an ass this valentine’s date, but you can’t really blame him. He’s seen into the future and he knows his plan is bulletproof. He never asked you to be his valentine and when you asked him (rather late for your liking too, but you were really expecting him to do it first!), he said he had plans with the guys. No, for real. He wouldn’t budge. Said they’d been going over this for days. You were quite upset with him, but whatever. A galentine’s it was! Little did you know he’d made sure to let the girls know about his plan! While you were working on your galentine’s, Connie was preparing a themed date based on your favourite film/show! He’d altered the placing of your furniture (don’t expect juicy time after dinner, his back is killing him), he’s put up themed decorations, has the film/show waiting for you on the tv and even created a three course meal inspired by it! And he made all the drinks himself. Honestly, kudos to him, cause the hours he’d spent checking recipes were endless! You were so upset when the girls 'cancelled' on you last minute. You did the walk of shame home, utterly disappointed and expecting to find it empty, but… You couldn’t have asked for a greater valentine’s date!

You don’t have to ask Reiner, but he won’t ask you either. His actions speak volumes and as soon as he realises you want to celebrate valentine's day, it’s literally game over. He’s got the table set and he’s ordered your favourite. There’s flowers and balloons all over the place and he’s got some soft music playing in the background. Oh and that cute lingerie you spotted the other day while window shopping together? Yeah, that’s kind of been laying on your bed. I wonder who put it there. Reiner has plans to breach that wall, you know? Anyway, he’s being really cute about and he even made you a card! Yes, he diy’ed it! It’s the ugliest effing thing, but it’s also the sweetest valentine’s gift you’ve received in your entire life. Who else would put all this time into a single card? Reiner is acting like a schoolboy when it comes to you and you love him for it!

You and Bertholdt had a silent agreement to celebrate this day, but not go too overboard with it. The last thing you both wanted was to do all those cliché things people do on valentine’s. You’d made reservations at one of your favourite restaurants, that was quite fancy too, and simply treated yourselves to your favourite foods and some good wine. It was a lovely night overall, nothing too crazy about it, but it was the way you both liked it. You were spending time together and that was the most important thing! Except Bertholdt kinda gave in and bought you a heart-shaped chocolate box. And a heart-shaped plushie. But that’s all, he promised! He looked so precious when he admitted to ‘breaking’ his part of the deal, but that cute face was the most memorable part of your evening!

Ymir would celebrate with you, but she’d give you a hard time about it. She was determined to make you regret it. She’d probably do her best to prank you any way that she could by sending you flowers and addressing them to the wrong person or by buying you a box of candy she very well knew you disliked. Now, why would she do that you may ask. She just didn’t want you to expect the actual surprise she’d planned for you. What better way to keep you on your feet, right? And although her pranks weren’t really appreciated (you did fight about that ‘wrong name on the card’ situation) you really didn’t expect the surprise and that made it all the more special! She even baked you a cake and decorated it herself! You honestly thought you weren’t going to celebrate at all! Who would’ve thought that Ymir was simply playing games, right?

I’m so sorry, but Levi would never ask you to be his valentine. Such manifestations of affection were just pointless in his eyes, but that doesn’t mean he’ll refrain from making you happy. He’s just choosing not to participate in such a materialistic, capitalistic WHO SAID THAT holiday. He knows that it’s important to you though, so he makes sure he gives you extra care and attention today. When you returned home, you weren’t really expecting much. You’d bought some chocolate and a special edition valentine’s tea for you and Levi to try. But instead of finding a boyfriend who didn’t want to participate in the trend, Levi was running you a warm bath and had lit up a bunch of pretty candles. You smiled so big when you saw the set up! “Can we also have a cup of tea together?” “But that’s it, do we have a deal?”

Hange was so excited when you asked them! You could tell by how vividly their eyes sparkled, their excitement was the most precious thing! You decided to organise an activity together, you know, in order not to give in into those overconsumption trends. What are you if not against the system, right? You decided to book a day trip to the botanical garden or maybe a local animal sanctuary. And what an idea, because you never thought there’d be so many things to do there! Hange even surprised you with a gift, even though you’d said you wouldn’t get each other any. This gift doesn’t really count though, because they crocheted you a jumper and they spent so much time making it. (They started knitting in early January! Can you believe their dedication!?) When you came back home after a beautiful, yet tiring day, you decided to bake brownies. You hadn’t realised you’d barely eaten during the day and a sweet treat was what you both needed! It was a unique valentine’s date!

Okay, listen, Erwin is upset you asked him. He had it all planned out! Why did you have to be so impatient and ask him to be your valentine first? (He’s not really upset, he just wanted to be the man). And also, let’s be honest here, Erwin is a provider man. You get a little treat for every day leading up to the 14th and, of course, he’s booked a table at your favourite restaurant, bought you the fanciest jewellery and the loveliest attire like??? WHO IS HE? I just KNOW he’s the guy to also leave you a printed invitation on your night stand, telling you where you should meet him for your valentine’s date. He’s the most cliché of them all, but he’s never failed so far, has he? Consider yourself spoiled for the entirety of the week. And who knows, maybe longer even. That’ll depend if you’re good for him I’m afraid.

wanna be notified? 🏹 join my taglist!

[alwaysless]

Fellow William analyst, greetings! I hope you are well, I hope you don't mind a question/ask.

I am curious about your thoughts on the lack of reaction we see of Will at the "one life" reveal at the dinner scene, if you haven't already shared your thoughts before! We know Annabel wasn't shocked, but what about Will?

It took me longer to answer than I thought, sorry

I'm not sure I can say anything new, but yes, it's pretty damn suspicious. The composition of the frame stylized as broken glass, makes it easy to draw Will with everyone, and a frame later we see him with other panicking students, so RnF didn't show his reaction quite intentionally.

But I also want to talk about his behavior further. In the next episode, Will doesn't behave the way you expect him to. Given his weak-willed personality, it seems like he should be scared and overwhelmed by the prospect of a survival game (like Morella for example) but he's confused at best, and moreover, confused by everyone else's reactions. He even tries to justify the deans, basically gaslighting the rest of the students.

Will is not afraid, but he does not understand why others are. I have only two possible explanations: either he knew, or he just doesn't care, just like Annabel. Or maybe both.

Maybe he has played these games before. Maybe he doesn't plan to fight for a second life (at least not in Nevermore, again just like Annabel). Maybe because he is somehow connected with the academic staff with all his doll aesthetic, there is no second life for him in general, he just works there. There are many options, but here I would prefer to focus on his parallels with Annabel - two characters whose reactions we don't see in this frame.

This is actually not the only scene where they are absent, contrary to common sense. In episode 6 we see the merit board for the first time. Most of the names on it are blurred, but some can be distinguished. Among them are Lenore, Annabel, Duke, Morella, Ada, Prospero and Will. All of them, except Annabel and Will, are present in the room at this moment.

I wouldn't have paid much attention to this scene if it weren't for Prospero. Why is he there? He doesn't speak a single line, and we haven't been introduced to him as a character yet. His presence here is useless. So maybe the idea really was for all the characters whose names were visible on the board to be in the scene(or at least have already been introduced, like Annabel).

So what about Will? My main problem with shapeshifter characters is that they can be anyone, anywhere, at any point in the story. Especially if they can also create their own copies. He could have already been introduced and we just didn't notice.

Now let's talk about the games these kids love to play so much. We know that Annabel is a talented chess player, and Montresor constantly uses card game slang. But did you know that it was William Wilson from Poe's original story who was a cardsharper? I just think it's such an interesting detail. Nevermore`s Will has never been seen like this, but considering how much of a board game aesthetic this webtoon has, I think it's important to note this.

And finally, there is a similarity that also makes them very different: both Annabel and Will have ribbons as an essential symbol, but it has a completely opposite meaning for each of them. For Annabel, the ribbons are a symbol of madness, fear, and perhaps her golden cage. It appears in her hallucinations after Lenore's fake death, as well as when Ada shows her her main fear.

Will, on the other hand? The ribbons are his weapon. He uses them to tangle other people. Curious, although his spectre is obviously a marionette, he doesn't have a control bar for strings, he controls the strings himself (not always successful but still).

No matter how weak-willed Will is, he's the only one in Annabel's group who isn't influenced by her. She blackmails Montresor, Prospero respects her as a leader and friend, Ada admires and envies her. But she doesn't have anything on Will. In the chess allegory, he will obviously be a pawn (and I`ll write a whole post about it, I swear), but not Annabel's pawn. I have an idea that sooner or later, Montresor will think of using Will to find dirt on Annabel in revenge. After all, given their spectre abilities, it's easier for them to find out lenabel's secret.

So, let's summarize what we found. Absolutely nothing. This post turned out to be longer than I had planned, because I was a little carried away, but I hope you found something interesting for yourself in this stream of thoughts.

Here, take funny little Will everyone. He deserves to be noticed.

[princeofassassins]

Im sorry but I dont get how people can view the conclusion of Vax and Keyleth as something reduced to “oh I guess they all worried for nothing and could have waited 30 years” or “I guess the lesson is keyleth shouldnt move on because she’ll get what she wants later”.

Because Vax and Keyleth arent treated as if they were just humming along as a 30 second unskippable youtube ad played. They were molded by their experiences. If Episode 102 didnt happen, and Vax didnt make the bargain with the Raven Queen (that he saw as the only chance to help his friends he had) he would be a substantially different character than post C3 finale Vax.

The indignation from Percy and Keyleth, Scanlan trying to save his Wish for Vax, these are all things that would have kept Vax himself but they failed. The consequences of their failure aren’t reversed by this new development. The Vax they knew is dead. There are parts of him still around but much like Kingsley isnt Molly, this isnt the Vax of back then.

Vax also still has his duties as a servant of the Raven Queen, he wasnt freed from his duties, he still plans to faithfully serve the matron but he now will be doing so on the material plane. Its not a get out of jail free card, he still has a job to do but because of the new support he has from Morrigan and others to come, it wont be as tireless. The burden can be shared and supported mote evenly.

Keyleth has also suffered a lot, she’s been almost killed, had her loyal soldiers permanently killed while protecting her from a threat she couldnt see coming. Her very presence was used as bait by Ludinus to open a new front on this battle.

She’s also been designated as one of the leaders of this fight because of her power and station and has had to think of people in a warlike setting. This move will cost this many troops but we can get this far etc. For such an empathetic person who values all life, the prospect of bearing this burden has go to be life changing.

These are not the same characters, the only thing bonding them together is memories and experiences of the people they used to be and thats why its so brilliant they start again. They more than anyone else knows how things can never return to what they had so if they want to try, they’ll have to create something new.

[cloversnstrawberries]

"palentine" parental!platonic yandere!supervillian & gn!neglected!hero sidekick!reader [oneshot] ! !

intro | masterlist

description; You and Malpractice spend your first Valentines day together. You just don't know it's Malpractice you're really talking to, and not local college student Jenny Schüler.

additional notes; hi!!! happy valentines day :)) since malpractice seems to be the most popular, he gets valentines day special privileges. don't mind how I have an actual cupid character I could use. you're getting terrifying plague man and his inherent desire to adopt reader on the spot.

warnings; Child abuse, neglect, and generally immoral conduct involving reader (done by the agency), possessive behavior, violent thoughts/plans to kill, overprotectiveness, corpses, talks of decomposition processes and dehumanization(?) (involving Malpractices 'puppets'), manipulation, mentions/plans of kidnapping, and if there's anything else I missed, please let me know!! the moment i write something, i'm afraid it disappears into the void :[

w/c; 2.8k

Malpractice has never been one for holidays.

Of course, nowadays holidays were a much bigger event then they were in his time. Especially Valentines day, which had morphed into something nearly unrecognizable (from his point of view) than the minor holiday he once knew it as.

Before he was... well, what he was now-- when he was still lesser than, still human; he'd get the occasional card with a silly pun on the front every one in a while, usually given by a co-worker out of self-imposed societal necessity.

But other than that, there was never much stock put into the occasion. Personally or otherwise-- as compared to now, where it was practically impossible to walk into a store and not see some sort of gaudy display. Full of red, white, and pink-- hearts and glitter that transfers to your skin.

At least, that's what Malpractice observes from afar. He's not much for stepping into your run of the mill Pharmacy these days-- not even with his macabre sort of puppets, made from some of the more in-tact cadavers he can snag from the local Morgue.

He tried not to let them be seen by anyone besides you-- there was always a chance that someone who knew who the cadaver had once been, who knew of their death; would be around.

Besides, there'd be no need for it-- unless he simply wished to spark terror. It's not like he had a prescription to be filled, after all.

Which, at the moment, he was actively avoiding-- he was avoiding making himself anymore known than necessary. Because if he did, than he's sure he'd scare you half to death.

You were such a delicate thing in his mind, and he often likened you to that of a baby bird. Because, in his mind, you really were. Fragile, even if you could sustain quite a beating out in the field.

The field you shouldn't be anywhere near, if he had it his way.

But, as it was, the agency had their claws stuck deep into you. Not emotionally wise, but legally; with you being in a sort of... ward of the state position, was the most comparable term he could manage.

Malpractice wished to dig his claws deeper, deep enough to rip whatever influence the agency had over you and take you for his own.

Metaphorically, of course! Oh, Lord knows he'd never hurt you. He'd find a way where you don't get sick with being around him-- get to a point where you won't be afraid of him afterward.

That wasn't quite in the immediate future, sadly. He had to stand by and wait, be patient-- he'd never been one to rush, but something about you made him feel an uncharacteristic amount of restlessness.

Maybe it's the fear that, if he waited too long, you'd slip through his fingers. You weren't made for the work you were being put through-- even if you weren't as young as you are, if you were of an adequate age for this sort of career,

You were still much better suited as a medic, maybe like he had been. Stay back in the medical ward-- you didn't have a flashy sort of power. But, then again, maybe the agency wanted to keep you as beaten down as possible;

Hoping that the little aches and pains that kept you up at night would make you less of a threat than they perceived you as. All because you had such a unique ability; he'd treasure it, just as he'd treasure you once he got you safely into his arms.

Unlike that blasted agency, that made you feel less than. That put you under a strict curfew, only allowing you waltz around on your own for a few hours at time-- even then, you'd have to alert them at least a week beforehand.

It was that controlled sort of 'freedom' that you despised, and had told him on multiple occasions.

...Or, to be more specific, had told various different 'puppets' the same complaint over the few short months he's been visiting you personally. You never knew it was the same sort of mind behind all the bodies, but with how you told every single one-- that was enough to rest his case that you hated it.

You hated how the agency tried to make you feel like you had a choice in the matter, when you really didn't. When your ability to go outside unmonitored and 'off the clock' was dependent on either how well you'd be preforming, or if the person reading the request had any semblance of empathy left in them.

Recently, you've been using all the time allotted to visit these puppets. You believed each to be a different person, unless you were a better actor than you caught on. Each having a different story-- to both enter, and subsequently leave your life before another cropped up shortly after.

Oh, how he hates to see you saddened by your 'newfound' friend having to skip town... but he'd try to wait until the very last minute until he did so. To the point where spots of necrosis were beginning to appear in more visible areas.

You never commented on the smell of death that'd follow the puppet during your 'last' meetings, maybe you'd become used to it-- with how you were, how your life had turned out.

But today, it was thankfully overcast; Malpractice was able to guide the puppet directly to the secluded, forested grotto he usually meets you in. That cut the commute about by about 10 minutes, since he didn't have to try and weave the puppet through the most sunless path possible.

When the puppet got to the grotto, you were already sitting on the crumbling stone bench in the middle of it. You didn't notice him-- until the puppet cleared its throat, and your head swung around to face him.

It was adorable, seeing how your face lit up. He'd thought that with all your 'new friends' coming and going, you'd become bitter. Develop a hardened shell, like he thought you'd already have by now--

However, with every new puppet, you were still as friendly yet disbelieving as you'd been while meeting the last. Like you just couldn't believe someone would want to be friends with you.

This puppet had been a jane doe, around her early to mid 20s. Due to the colder weather, this one had lasted longer than most; and it almost hurt him to know that eventually, the puppet would begin to rot despite his precautions-- and he'd have to find a new one.

You were rather attached to this one. Despite himself, he hopes he'll be able to keep this puppet until he can reveal himself-- only a few weeks more, and you'd finally be safe.

"Sorry for making you walk in this weather..." You started with, a sheepish, apologetic smile on your face, as the puppet sat beside you. "Not a problem, I'm more than willing to risk a cold to see you. I know how... rigid your routine can be."

With a little nod, you hummed before casting your eyes down and saying "Oh-- uhm, thank you." You always got flustered, whenever Malpractice-- or his puppets, he supposes-- shows you any sort of care.

Like you weren't used to being a priority-- because from what he'd seen, you very much were not. He'd even read parts of your intake records made shortly after the Agency took you in; they'd considered euthanizing you like a dog. That caring for you might've been too resource heavy-- until the sick bastards realized they could find a use for you and your unique ability.

It made him ill-- emotionally speaking, he obviously doesn't get physically sick anymore. He's practically the physical embodiment of it, it'd be silly if he could catch a cold like your normal, every day joe.

The unintentional stretch of silence was broken, as you jolted slightly-- as if remembering something. You swung around and grabbed something sitting by your other side--

Then, you turned to the puppet, and held your hands out. In them, was a little mesh bag of tin-foil wrapped chocolate hearts. The kind that'd be sold near the checkout lane at a grocery store during Valentines.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I just got you this." And-- oh, you looked so proud. He knew you didn't get much freedom at all, and you must've sneaked by to get this.

You may have have even stolen it-- there was a little bit of guilt lingering in your eyes, along with a strange sort of fear. Fear of rejection, he supposes. That whatever you'd gone through to get this wouldn't be worth it.

The puppet's hand reached out, before retracting slightly-- immediately, you noticed. Your little smile fell "Do-- are you lactose intolerant? I'm sorry--" And Malpractice laughed--

Not the puppet, so much. He's sure that, if you were a little older; better trained in your position, then you'd realize something was off with it. Some strange, uncanny value to it.

It wasn't cruel, he made sure of that. It was endeared, of course it was-- but he could never manage to quite quell the madness inherent to his tone. Not while he was laughing, at least.

"No, no not at all." The laughter died down, and the puppet gently took the bag of candy in its hands. He held it like it was the most precious thing in the world, and in his mind, it truly was.

A gift from you. He always treasured these sorts of things, but the previous gifts had been things you picked up off the ground-- pretty rocks, little knickknacks, an unordinary plant...

But this, you must've gone far out of your way to get this. And to just give it to him... he wonders, had you gone out with the intent to get it? No matter what, to just have something to show for valentines day?

After a few moments, Malpractice remembered that he should probably respond. The puppet looked at you-- fear and concern obvious in your eyes, deathly afraid that he'd reject the gift.

A soft smile broke out on the puppet's face, before he sighed and looked down. "Well, I don't have anything for you, is the problem--"

It wasn't a regular occurrence, you cutting him off. The Agency had all but tortured that possibility out of you, trying to make you into a perfect little cog more than the child you were.

Despite all that, your true nature shone through. You could never truly smother a children's light, he supposes.

"No!" You waved your arms frantically, shaking your head. You calmed down quickly, looking a little embarrassed from your own outburst. "No-- Uhm, I mean... well, you don't have to get me anything. I just wanted to do this for you,"

Malpractice went to respond, but it didn't seem like you were quite done just yet. He waited patiently, as you continued "Oh, and-- and I have something else." You dug into the pocket of your bland, practical gray coat; part of the few pieces of civilian clothing the Agency was willing to provide you with.

When he has you safe and sound, away from those (soon to be dead, if he had his way) maniacs; he'd be sure to let you express yourself however you'd like with your clothes.

He wouldn't force you into generic garments, given to you out of pure necessity.

You fished out a piece of paper from your main pocket, handing it to the puppet. It was an envelope-- handmade by the looks of it, held together by staples and closed with a small piece of scotch tape.

He turned it over to the flat side, finding it addressed to this particular puppet, written in shaky and inexperienced cursive. Jenny, he'd had you name it-- he did this often, with puppets. He'd have the puppet ask something like "well, what name do I look like?" And the first name you said, he'd take it-- the puppet would always respond with something like "Wow, are you psychic? That's actually my name!"

A shame, it was addressed to this false sort of person. This walking cadaver he took control in order not to scare you-- one in a line of many, but hopefully one of, if not the, last one.

Maybe next year, he'd receive an envelope addressed to himself. Maybe he'd even let you use his human name. He could help you with the cursive as well, even if it'd result in him basically addressing it himself.

He hasn't used the name in so long, hasn't felt attached to it for even longer; but with you, he doesn't think he'd mind you knowing him by it. To have an envelope handed to him, addressed to Maxwell S. in his own handwriting.

The puppet hummed, and flipped the envelope back over. He took his time, trying to use the puppets limited fine-motor skills to avoid ripping the handmade envelope.

Even if it was plain in nature, and not perfectly done by formal measures-- he'd still hate to mess up your handy work. It took some time, but eventually the tape was pried off and he could open it.

Inside was an index card, something you must've nabbed from the office section of the Agency; probably like the rest of the materials, if he had to guess.

It warmed his heart, to think that you'd risked so much-- even if they were meager supplies by most's standards, you'd really done a wonder with what little you had.

On the blank side was a little drawing, of a tiny cartoon version of you-- hugging this particular puppet. When he flipped it to the lined side, the words 'be my pal-entine?' were written in bright crayon, the letters alternated between green, yellow, blue, and red.

The puppet stayed quiet-- you were getting antsy, afraid of upsetting your friend. You leaned forward a little, Malpractice catching the movement out of the corner of the puppet's eye. Your brows furrowed, as you hesitantly asked "...Do you like it? It's not weird, is it? I've never really had a friend to do this with--"

You made the most adorable little squeak when, suddenly, the puppet surged forward and threw its arms around you-- it was cold, freezing to the touch; no way to retain body heat, but you didn't mind regardless. You leaned into it, despite the obvious shiver that ran through your entire body.

Sad, how he couldn't really feel what the puppet was. Oh, how he longed to hold you in this way, truly-- to feel your warmth, hear your heart beating and the blood rushing through your veins.

To know you're alive, you're safe within his arms. That you're far away from any wretched creature that dares to try and hurt his little bird.

Something annoying, something nagging that he thought he'd long since killed-- whispered in the back of his mind, telling him to just have the puppet pick you up and carry you back,

The impatient, quick-to-act sort of thought process he was known for when he was first reborn. It'd been hard to control the urges then, to act on every little whim just because he could. Just because nobody could feasibly stop him, not in a way that mattered.

The puppet held you a little tighter, and you said nothing of it. He presumes that you hold may have tightened as well, with how the puppet shifted in such a way as it did.

"So..." You said, muffled slightly as you pressed your face into the shoulder of the puppet. "Does this mean.. you, uhm, accept it?" Oh, you were so adorable that Malpractice felt like he might die right then and there, if it was possible for him to die at all-- of course.

The puppet didn't retreat, simply held you there as you melted into its cold, unnatural embrace. You must've felt it, how strange the skin felt due to the chemicals used to keep it fresh-- you either didn't want to upset them, or just plain old didn't care. Seeking any sort of comfort, not caring if anything seemed amiss.

Almost as an afterthought, too caught up in the moment-- Malpractice remembered to respond. You must've been so relaxed, so touch-starved, that you didn't notice the sudden shift in your friends speech patterns. How Malpractice didn't bother to keep up the facade of modern speech.

"Why ever would I not, especially when you've gone through all the trouble you have?" and you hummed, a soft laugh muffled by the fabric of the puppet's functionally useless coat. "...So you like it, then?"

The puppet, almost robotically, guided their fingers over your hair-- a comforting gesture to you, but it only made Malpractice feel anguished-- that he couldn't truly be here, couldn't feel you held within his embrace.

"Of course, little bird."

[louisaguy]

slow horses timeline stuff

because i'm procrastinating doing work.

disclaimer: this is all for show timeline & show canon. the books are their own thing and have a different timeline. this is show only.

FORMAT: dates we know // how we know it

the show:

s1- likely february 2016 // february: struan's line "it's february!" when louisa suggests christmas drinks. 2016: estimate based off of time of s2

s2- 2016 // min's plaque reads 2016

s3- 2017 // between s2 and s4. also, spider flosses. ergo 2017.

s4- early january 2018 // early january: right after christmas (roddy's mishap with the christmas party, christmas decorations still up). 2018: catherine's calendar in her flat is on january 2018.

backstory things:

bad sam gets isobel from les arbres- "early nineties" // via giti's dialogue. i will circle back to this

charles partner's death- 1996 // partner's plaque has 1996 as death date at the end of s2

rose's (river's grandmother's) death- 2010 // her gravestone in s4

stansted- july/summer 2015 // 8 months pre s1

timeline errors / things that bother me:

river's age- so, you have two options here. option one, via dialogue: we take giti's "bad sam only went to france once in the early nineties" as truth. therefore sam gets a pregnant isobel out of les arbres in the early nineties (let's say 1990/1991, but you can place it anywhere in the early nineties you like). then river is born a few months later (judging by the fact that isobel was already starting to show when sam picked her up). so river's birth date: 1991? or some other point in the early nineties.

option two, via props: river says his mother left him postcards for his "seventh, eighth, and ninth birthdays". one of said cards has the date 1994 written on it (can be seen in the scene where he's looking at them in the shoebox). if we assume that's the one for his seventh birthday, that puts him being born around 1987.

the difference between these doesn't matter that much (it's the difference of him being 27 in s4 vs 31 in s4), except for how it shifts river's relation to other events-- e.g., option one says he'll be left with david and rose around 1997 (or maybe a few years later if you put his birth date in 1992/93, since "early nineties" is vague), AFTER partner's death. vs theory two puts him being left with his grandparents in 1993, solidly before partner is killed. i do think it's interesting to consider whether david already had a cute little blonde boy doting on him at home when he was planning charles' assassination or not. so depending on which river-age theory you choose to follow, river's relation to other backstory events may change (or you could always just do the old "river's age is nebulous and he is however old i need him to be for this specific fic i'm writing" thing lol).

it also means he was sososo young in s1 if you follow theory #1. him being born in 1991 would mean he would be like 23/24 when stansted happened 🥺🥺🥺 BABYYYY. an actual INFANT. (theory 2 would have him at 27/28 during stansted).

characters headstones say they're too young to make sense- partner and rose- partner's plaque says his birth date is 1948... and so if he died in 1996... he would have been 48 years old when he died................. i'm sorry but this man is NOT under fifty. the actor they cast to play him in the flashbacks is like 75 lmfao. i think this is just an error-- him being 48 when he died would make him more of a contemporary with lamb (who would have been in his 40s at partner's death) rather than with david (and considering lamb kinda came up under partner's wing-- at least from the books, but that's the vibe i get from the show too-- i think partner should be at least a decade or so older than lamb). it would also make him like 20 years younger than david (who'd be in his 60s when partner died). i just don't think it makes sense. i would bump his birth date back to 1938 or maybe even 1928, to make him more of a contemporary with david (who was born sometime in the 30s, since louisa says he's 80-something in s4(2018)).

as for rose, her headstone in s4 says 1953-2010. that 1953 date is suspect to me. we know david is 80-something in s4. let's take him to be the youngest possible to give ourselves the greatest margin of error. then he'd be born in 1938. now let's follow theory 1 of river's age (again providing the kindest possible interpretation to rose's age), making him born around 1991. assuming isobel was around 20 when she had river, this means she would be born in ~1971. which would make rose... 18. when she had isobel. which would be fine, except that in 1971 david would be... 33. hmmmmmm.

and remember this is the kindest POSSIBLE interpretation, assuming david is the youngest possible (just barely 80 in s4) and that river is also the youngest possible (born 1991). if you interpret either or both of them as older than that, then isobel's birth shifts earlier and/or david's age shits older, making david and rose's age gap at her birth even more suspect. for example taking river's birth date in 1987 (a la theory 2) would make rose only 14 when isobel would have to be born (assuming isobel was 20ish when she had river). i mean, it's POSSIBLE this was an intentional implication that rose and david had a skeevy age gap? but i doubt it. considering they were trying to claim that the 75 year old james faulkner was playing a 48 year old charles partner in the flashback, and river's age is already an ambiguous mess, i'm more inclined to say that this was just a mistake. i would just bump rose's birth date to be 1943 instead-- still younger than david (who was born sometime in the 30s), but not, uh. illegally so.

fwiw, i think a lot of these timeline errors come from the confusing detail that while the show is AIRING in the early 2020s, its SET in the late 2010s. so like, river's birth date for example, i think they wanted him to be 31ish in s4, and someone correctly subtracted that from 2018 for the postcards (2018-31 = 1987, so river's 7th birthday would be 1987+7=1994). meanwhile, for the dialogue, someone else accidentally subtracted it from modern day instead (2024-31= 1993, so sam fetching pregnant-isobel from les arbres would be just before that in "the early nineties"). partner's age error i also think comes from subtracting from the modern day when s2 was airing (2022-74=1948) without accounting for the fact that the 75 year old man we're seeing as him is meant to be that old in 1996, not in the modern day (because he's only seen in flashbacks).

and also a lot of this comes from the fact that these are all "flashes-on-screen-for-one-second" props and brief lines of dialogue, and they didn't expect someone to care enough to come along and try to do the math.

but too bad! i'm here! i want to do the math!

my personal interpretation of character ages:

some based on textual evidence, others just estimating based on actors' ages. in general, take what you like and ignore what doesn't work. the timelines are already fuzzy enough that you can fudge it in any direction you like haha, just use whatever works best for your current fic/project. but here are my takes:

river- born 1987/1991 (both interpretations are equally valid imo). makes him either 29-31 or 25-27 for the run of the show.

louisa- mid 30s likely? mostly going by rosalind eleazar's age.

catherine- late 50s/early 60s (going by saskia reeves' age, and also would make her late 30s/early 40s when partner died, which sounds right [& is consistent with the book, though that doesn't count for much imo since the book and show are such divergent things timeline-wise])

lamb- early-mid 60s (gary oldman's age, and him being a contemporary of catherine seems right)

roddy- early/mid 30s?

shirley- early 30s, marcus- late 30s (an inversion of their actors' ages, but necessary because marcus says in the show he's 5 years older than shirley)

min- mid 40s

(i do love that no matter how you slice it, river is def the baby of the slough house family haha. that feels right. oh EXCEPT maybe sid!!)

sid- probably young like river, late 20s/early 30s.

david- 80ish. i'd put him at 81-83 throughout the run of the show (birth date 1935ish), but you could go younger and say 79-81 or something like that. importantly of a different and older cohort than lamb/catherine/sam etc.

partner- fuck it i'm going against the plaque let's say he's born 1928, would put him at age 68 when he died in 1996. more consistent with the actor's age, and puts him solidly as a contemporary of david, NOT of lamb. plus the way catherine talks about him like a sweet old man it makes more sense for there to be more of an age gap between her and partner. so say he was 68 when he died in 1996, meanwhile david was 61, lamb would be mid 40s and catherine would be ~40. that seems right to me.

if david was born in 1935 i'll put rose at 1943. would make her late 20s when isobel is born, late 40s when river is born, 67 at her death (and river would be 19/23 at her death btw depending on which river age theory you subscribe to, in case that's helpful for angst/backstory reasons)

idk everyone else can just be the age of their actors i guess, but if you're writing stuff in the past remember to subtract correctly from the late 2010s not the early 2020s!! or i mean don't. it doesn't really matter. none of this actually matters lol

anyway. whew. that was a lot. sorry i just spat a million words about pointless timeline shenanigans all over you. i do this for fun.

(pspspspsps slow horses creative team let me proofread your timeline math i'll do it for free this is fun for me pspspspsps)

[muiitoloko]

Can you write something special for valentine's day with some Alan Rickman characters and the reader?

Title: A Valentine’s Day Debacle

Summary George planned everything—but his wife completely forgot. The only way to salvage the evening? A very persuasive apology behind closed doors.

Pairing: Sheriff of Nottingham × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Notes: I actually had already planned some short stories for Valentine's Day featuring Alan Rickman’s characters, but they’re just little ones, and I only have a few of them ready. I’m glad you’re excited for them! 😊

By the way, a fun little fact—Valentine's Day is actually celebrated on June 12th here in Brazil, not February 14th! Just a little cultural tidbit for you!

Also read on Ao3

George, the Sheriff of Nottingham, had planned everything down to the last detail.

The moonlit banquet, the extravagant flowers, the velvet-lined box of expensive jewelry that he had personally selected because, despite what people thought, he actually did pay attention to your tastes. He had even—God help him—ordered Scribe to write a Valentine’s Day card.

Not just any card. No, it had to be perfect. Romantic. Poetic. Dramatic.

George had paced his chambers, dictating with all the intensity of a man composing a declaration of war.

"Write this down, Scribe!" he had commanded, hand sweeping through the air theatrically. "My dearest, most maddeningly beautiful wife, the bane of my existence and the only creature on this wretched earth whom I would willingly share my goblet with—"

Scribe had blinked at him, waiting.

"—I offer you my undying devotion, my kingdom, my wealth, and the remaining scraps of my sanity, which you have not yet claimed. I am yours, body and soul, even when you frustrate me to the point of near homicide. Love, your devastatingly handsome husband, Sheriff of Nottingham."

Scribe had hesitated before scratching the quill against the parchment.

"Oh, and add a little heart at the bottom. Women like that nonsense."

The day had been perfect. Flawless.

And yet, as George sat at the extravagant banquet table beneath the moonlit sky, adorned in his finest embroidered tunic, his long black hair perfectly combed, a goblet of his most expensive wine in hand, something was wrong.

You.

You were sitting there, blissfully unaware, smiling over your roasted pheasant as if today were just any other day. As if today wasn’t a momentous occasion orchestrated entirely for your benefit.

And there was something missing. Something glaring.

A gift.

For him.

George's hazel eyes darkened as he watched you happily nibble on your dessert. The audacity.

Clearing his throat, he leaned forward dramatically, placing a hand over his chest as if he were on the verge of collapse. “Wife.”

You hummed, taking another bite. “Yes, husband?”

George inhaled sharply, willing himself to remain calm. “Do you… feel as though you have forgotten something today?”

You frowned, blinking at him. “No? Should I have?”

A vein twitched in George’s forehead.

He set his goblet down with a deliberate clank. “Nothing at all? Not even the slightest inkling?”

You tilted your head, utterly clueless. “George, if this is about me forgetting to sew your shirt, I swear I'll—”

George’s chair scraped violently against the stone floor as he stood.

“It is Valentine’s Day, you oblivious wench!” he bellowed, throwing his arms into the air like an enraged prophet. “The day of love! The one day when a devoted husband—your devoted husband—expects a modicum of recognition for his affections!”

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?!” George’s voice cracked with indignation. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?!”

You blinked, your brain struggling to catch up. “… I forgot?”

George clutched his chest, stumbling backward as if mortally wounded. “She forgot!” he wailed, looking up at the heavens. “After all I have done! The flowers! The feast! The poetry!” He turned back to you, wild-eyed. “I had Scribe write a bloody love letter, woman! Do you know how humiliating that was?!”

You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth. “You wrote me a love letter?”

George pointed an accusing finger. “You mock me, but where is my gift, wife? What token of love have you prepared for me?”

You suddenly felt very guilty. In all honesty, you had completely lost track of the date. The days had blurred together, and Valentine’s Day had simply slipped your mind.

George, meanwhile, looked as if he were about to faint from sheer betrayal.

Thinking quickly, you reached across the table, grabbing his hand. “George,” you soothed, squeezing his fingers. “I’m sorry. I truly am. Let me make it up to you.”

George narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How?”

You leaned closer, your voice dropping into a purr. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

For a moment, George seemed torn between sulking and pouncing on you immediately. His hazel eyes flickered with intrigue. “Go on,” he murmured, intrigued despite himself.

You smirked, trailing a hand down his arm. “Well, for starters…”

You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear.

George inhaled sharply, his pout vanishing, his posture shifting into something far more… interested.

“… and then,” you continued, “I’ll—”

George slammed his goblet down so hard that wine sloshed over the rim. “FORGIVEN,” he declared, grabbing your wrist and yanking you up from your seat. “We’re leaving. Now.”

You laughed, stumbling after him. “But the feast—”

“To hell with the feast!” George growled, dragging you toward the castle. “My wife owes me a gift, and I intend to collect.”

As you disappeared inside, Scribe sighed, closing the love letter that George had so painstakingly dictated.

At least someone would appreciate the effort.

With a shrug, he took a sip of abandoned wine and began to read.

[leggerefiore]

Can I request how the dead inside trio (fuck it, giovanni too) would prepare for valentines? I have a deep craving for sweet old men 🙏❤️❤️

since cy is from sinnoh and gio is from kanto, Valentine's is a bit different over there... I tried

cw: Valentine's Day fluff,

characters: Nanu, Larry, Cyrus, Giovanni

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 He really had not an urge to do anything for Valentine’s Day… The day simply held nothing positive for him. Even with a partner, he felt it useless to engage in something so corporate for his lover. They can get gifts for each other any day of the year – Why fixate on a specific date? Even so, despite his disinterest, Acerola seemed insistent. The girl babbled to him about how important it is to show he cares. While he wanted to roll his eyes and ignore her words, those big eyes made him reconsider. Honestly, he hated that he simply could not be mean to her. So, he found himself walking off and working on plans.

🌑 Chocolates were easy enough to obtain as they were being sold literally anywhere. He cared not for specifics, so he just grabbed whatever seemed the nicest. Flowers… Well, being connected to a fertility deity has its benefits every so often. Tapu Bulu actually was ecstatic to see him, so a request for some flowers was answered with a familiar white species. Nanu grumbled, recognising them. Well, he could not exactly complain without risking angering a capricious deity, so he took them. Lastly, a date… He sighed. Ula'Ula was certainly scenic and seen as a romantic place to visit, but living there ruined that image in his mind. What was there to do? Every restaurant was booked, and the Malie Garden would be absolutely packed. There had to be a place with some privacy…

🌑 The black sands of the beach on Route 14 frequently caught the eyes of many visitors, but the ruined store tended to ward them off. No one wanted to piss off a guardian deity, really. Nanu knew the pokemon would not care too much for you both lingering on its sacred land. The waves lapped at the shore as he glanced at you. It was not exactly the most romantic activity, but Nanu found himself fine with it. You leaned against him as he grasped the wrapped chocolates. The flowers were a success when he gifted to them earlier. Your comment about it being a wedding bouquet did make him swallow his heart. He sighed as the setting sun shined on the horizon. Handing off the chocolates, he grasped your hand. “… Happy Valentine's Day,” his voice was a low mumble, still not really interested in the holiday, “Sorry for the shitty date—” You kissing him cut him off. Apparently, you quite enjoyed his attempt at romance.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 The holiday held little meaning to the businessman. While most of his coworkers rushed to get off and make plans for it, Larry simply worked on the extra workload that his boss seemed to enjoy dumping on him. Though, his plans for that year had a wrench in them. Rika lingered above his desk, watching him curiously. He could not tell what was on the woman's mind. Well, until she finally asked him what his plans were with his partner. He blinked. A simple answer of nothing apparently offended her. A hand came down on his desk as she insisted he do something, even offering to cover his work. It caught him off-guard. An attempt to reject the offer was met with the green-haired woman growing more demanding. She even involved Hassel, who seemed horrified at Larry's actions. He was basically chased out of the office.

🍙 So, he sighed. It seemed that this was happening. Many years had passed since he last put any energy into Valentine’s Day. He popped into a corner store to pick up a box of chocolates and a card. He sighed. Flowers were also a smart idea, but… There was no way to get any this late into the game. He opted to just focus on trying to get a table at a restaurant. Most had to be completely booked out, but the Treasure Eatery was more than happy to accommodate him. In fact, they were more shocked than anything that he called ahead to reserve anything since they usually kept a spot open just for him. He was not overly sure how that made him feel. A quick call to you led to an agreement to meet him there. There was a momentary debate of whether he should change clothes, but he opted against it.

🍙 You joining him at the table led to an awkward moment of silence as he presented the card and chocolates with little fanfare. There was a moment of bewilderment towards the actions, but you took the chocolates nonetheless. The restaurant was packed with couples, clearly trying to have a romantic evening. Larry felt completely out of his element. The card was a simple one with an Oricorio on it saying something, making one's heart dance like one. Your smile made his cheeks burn. He did not it expect you to actually enjoy it. “Happy Valentine's Day…” his voice was careful, “I apologise if this is not adequate enough—” You leaning in for a kiss silenced him. An assurance that this was enough made him relax. The evening went far better than he expected.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ The Galactic Boss barely had noticed the holiday approaching. He simply felt no need to keep up with such trivial things while he was working on his plans. However, he did notice that his grunts were requesting time off while Mars seemed to babble about something that he did not care to listen to. His frustration was piling due to this, but he was caught off-guard at the red-head entering his office and asking him what he was doing for the holiday since he was apparently in a relationship. He bit his tongue. The urge to tell her off about prying into his personal life was interrupted by him blinking. His… relationship. Right, this was the time for women to give gifts to the important people in their lives. He groaned. Suddenly, he realised that he needed to take off from work at a reasonable time. Upsetting you was the last thing that he wanted to do.

☄️ While it was not typical for men to do anything, he felt the urge to do something to make up for any possible distress. A simple reservation at a restaurant seemed sufficient enough, but he still felt worried at the thought of failing to please you. So, he found himself trailing to a florist when he managed to finally free himself from work. Flowers were romantic enough, were they not? He struggled to pick any due to his uncertainty. The clerk seemed to take pity on him – the typical rose bouquet felt too common and apathetic for him. Yet, somehow, a certain kind of flower caught his eye. A purchase was made, and he headed home. This seemed more than enough to make up for any possible upset.

☄️ Unsurprisingly, he was greeted by chocolates when he came home. They were homemade and shaped by like the various forms of Rotom. He felt shocked by your dedication and relieved that he had done so much in return. The offer of dinner seemed to perk you up even more. He had booked the nicest restaurant in the area, after all. Though, his surprise of a sunflower bouquet also shocked you. The flowers gently brought a delicate warmth with their presence. You thanked him for such a thoughtful gift. While you held the bouquet to yourself, he opted to speak. “Happy Valentine's Day…” his voice was low and deep, “I apologise for being home so late.” Your hug and a peck to his cheek calmed him. As long as you were happy.

🚀Giovanni🐈

🟥 Valentine's Day… Giovanni would often receive many gifts. He certainly was a desired man, after all. Honestly, he was not the biggest fan of chocolates, but the attention fed his ego just right. Now, he was fully aware the holiday was celebrated differently all over. In Kanto, it was a time for women to gift chocolates to the men in their life. In somewhere like, say, Unova or Kalos, though, it was a mutual holiday with more expectation on the man. He felt himself debating whether he should obligate his partner like what they would expect from their culture… Really, he supposed it would be something different from the typical day of being showered in gifts from those desperate for his attention.

🟥 Chocolates were the typical gift for the holiday. He found himself in a premier chocolatier, debating just what his partner may enjoy. A variety seemed best. The price was certainly steep, but it was not as if he failed to have money to throw around. The chocolates were delicately wrapped in a scarlet box as he pondered what was next. Flowers were a common gift overseas. Roses, specifically. He quite found the idea of bouquet red roses enchanting. A stop at a florist provided his next gift. The flowers drove a high price again, but he once again found himself apathetic. Lastly, a location. A simple call to a preferred restaurant got him a private room that evening without question. Honestly, it was easy enough.

🟥 He had his driver bring you to him as he waited at the restaurant. His attire was far nicer than his typical suit. You were shocked as you stepped out of the car. A box of chocolates was in your hands. An exchange was made as you handed off your gifts for one another. Your reaction to the expensive chocolates left him smug. Yours for him were clearly homemade. He would appreciate the dedication. The shapes of a rocket and Persians left him entertained at least. Your arm was interlocked with his as he led you to the reserved area of the restaurant. “Happy Valentine's Day,” his voice was confident and proud, “… I have more planned for this evening.” Your reaction to that had him chuckle. He felt that he enjoyed celebrating like this all the same.

[deke-rivers-1957]

Speedway Review

Originally planned to be a Sonny and Cher picture, the rights were sold by Columbia to MGM. It would subsequently be retooled into an Elvis movie. Given the decline in Elvis' box office success, MGM wanted to recapture the magic of Viva Las Vegas by utilizing the rising star in Nancy Sinatra. This was ironically her last film role as she would go on to focus on her music career. Naturally with movie plots being recycled where we have yet another movie involving Elvis as a racer vying for the affections of a younger woman, a burning question came up: Is Elvis still relevant?

Based on the critics reactions, the answer was no. A relatively generous critic who reacted to the movie as it came out, Kevin Thomas, stated that Nancy Sinatra's song was the high point of the movie with the film as a whole being too much of an imitation of Elvis' other movies. If even an Elvis friendly film critic is pointing out how stale and boring it is, that's a sign serious changes need to be made. But is the movie itself good despite being a copycat of Viva Las Vegas or is it a sign that Elvis and all creative minds involved stopped caring about the product they made? Let's find out.

I'm so used to having the title card with Elvis singing open up the movie, that it's very jarring to have action happen right away. For an opening that's meant to get you hooked for more, all we get is lackluster exposition regarding Steve preparing for a race. I understand that he's supposed to be a racer but why should I care about him winning this one race when we're just meeting him? "Speedway" plays over b-roll of the real life Charlotte Motor Speedway in North Carolina. Too bad Elvis himself is rear screen projectioned in as all racing footage is b-roll. At least they showcase the real life top named stock car racers such as Richard Petty outside of the opening credits so racing fans have something to enjoy. Oh wait.

I do appreciate that there's a lot of secondary characters to fill in the scenery but too many of them with speaking roles are introduced at once. It'd be one thing if they existed to specifically set up the location, but Steve's pit crew is introduced all at once and will have absolutely no individual character traits. In a movie that's meant to be a comedy, the only thing that's mildly funny is how superstitious the racing world is. One guy kisses the lucky rabbit's foot in his car while another one ups him by taking out a whole rabbit. It's a quirky visual gag.

Steve of course wins and immediately any suspense I had is lost. There's no immediate answer to the question "so what" and it will never be answered. Nancy Sinatra plays Susan Jacks who works for the IRS to investigate Steve's income vs his deductions. The whole premise is weird and I won't bore you with my accounting and tax background on why. It all boils down to the movie's idea of what IRS collecting agents do and how inaccurate it is. I don't like poo pooing movies for not being 100% accurate because I get that to some degree you need artistic licensing. The problem is that nothing involving Susan's character and situation is entertaining to me.

I'm skipping through a lot but in all honesty it's nothing but padding. Steve handing out money for this down on his luck guy and his kids means nothing to me. It's a pitiful attempt to answer the "so what" question given that if things were that bad, these kids would not still be living with him. I don't find these kids charming and it's obvious they want to have a "cutesy" factor because it worked so well in previous movies. All I can think about is how if the dad was that down on his luck that him and his children are sleeping in his car, there would be a lot of law enforcement involved since you have at least one girl who's barely 3 years old. Steve being in the racing circuit means traveling across the country so I have no idea how he's able to keep up with financially supporting this family.

Imagine my surprise to find that at least a year has passed in this movie since it's covered by one montage of Steve winning races. This only makes the Susan issue worse since at some point you would think Steve would question why she's following him everywhere the past year. It also makes "He's Your Uncle, Not Your Dad" painful to watch because we waste so much time getting to the inevitable scene where Steve finds out how bad his tax situation is. It feels like a propaganda piece that comes off as insulting. We get it, paying your taxes is important. We don't need a song number about it and everyone's faces says it all: Kenny doesn't care about Steve's eventual problem, Steve looks like he's miserable as get out and Gale Gordon looking at both of them like "oh my god I have to deal with these people". I felt like Steve sitting in the office as Gale Gordon reads off all the hokey deductions Kenny tried to make. It's another example of how nothing this is. Does it suck that Steve now owes $145k in back taxes? Yes but it's not like he's being arrested for tax evasion. They just want their money and know him winning his races will accomplish that.

I'm about an hour into this and we're just now getting to the actual conflict if you can call it that. Steve looks annoyed but it's not as if he actually fires Kenny for preparing his returns incorrectly. I get that they want to poke fun of Elvis for the things he did in real life, but even Elvis cut people out of his life once he stopped liking them. For someone that's supposed to be a life long friend, Kenny has been nothing but a creep and just isn't funny at all for someone who's supposed to be the comedic sidekick. Like him making up this wild story about a zoo escape just to keep a woman from going home isn't funny. If anything I "laughed" more at the woman knocking him out with how justified her reaction was.

In a not at all shocking turn of events Susan falls for Steve which completely compromises her position with this case. The reason why I say that is because she's supposed to be a neutral party to this yet by falling in love with Steve, this would create a conflict of interest. It's amazing how the movie is progressive for having a woman work in a pretty powerful entity like the IRS, yet reduces her to the love interest. The funny thing is, the more sexist option of having Susan just be Gale Gordon's secretary actually makes more sense to the overall story. Either that or be even more progressive by having Susan just be Gale Gordon's character so the subsequent consequences actually feel earned. I get that in real life you would have an agent regularly check in, but from a narrative perspective, it's just repetitive since this is your main conflict. The result is that both Kenny and Steve badger Susan just so they can get back to financially supporting themselves. She has absolutely no say in this decision so it makes both of them unlikeable even though the movie wants you to think this is all Susan's fault.

It gets even worse when you have Steve barge into her hotel room to confront her. The writers clearly had no desire to write a good romance as we literally go from seeing Susan running for her life as Steve chases after her to them kissing. I'm sorry what? I can't even begin to describe how disjointed everything is where it's obvious nobody actually read the whole script to see if scenes actually flow together. Not to mention how Steve even doing this makes him look like a monster even in the context of this universe so you really wouldn't want to support this relationship. I get that this is meant to be his breaking point but again THIS IS NOT SUSAN'S FAULT. As I've already stated, the only person responsible for this entire situation is Kenny. So for him to put that on Susan not only makes him a bad person but it also makes the decision to have him fall in love with Susan just terrible writing. I'm beyond confused at how Elvis and Nancy Sinatra had a very good rapport behind the scenes only for none of that to come out on screen.

So Steve ends up in debt because Kenny has a gambling problem and not even that is enough to fire him. But it's ok as with the big race coming up, just doing well enough to win any cash prize will be enough to at least cover Kenny's gambling debt and buy back all the repossessed items. Seriously why bother even having stakes when your problems are pretty easy to resolve? There's being a slice of life movie and there's being painfully boring. Even when Steve randomly crashes despite being the only car on the track, the montage of everyone fixing the car feels flat. Because based on everything you've seen, of course the car's going to be fixed in time. The only so called humor is the dad being stuck in the back seat and having to be physically removed through the front side window as there are no back doors. He's just frozen in place because he was just going over 100 mph after waking up in the "backseat" which doesn't make sense either but moving on.

The final race is a snooze fest and at this point you forget that Paul was his rival. From a narrative perspective he's supposed to be another antagonist but he's not. Steve kept winning or at least placing in his races so there's no rivalry. They're not on equal ground based on what's shown in the movie. It's not even set up where they're rivals in universe but to the audience it's so one sided that Paul talking trash would be funny. There's just nothing to the point where Paul shouldn't even exist as a character. Even Clambake had a better set up than this as you at least had Scott interact with Jamison throughout the movie. With Jamison you at least understood that him being a creep towards Diane had a point. Kenny being a creep with women is practically played off as comedy when it's not funny. I know I'm going on a lot of tangents but it's because Speedway gives us nothing and there's only so much b-roll of actual racers you can watch before you just want the movie to end. After all everyone knows it's just going to end with Steve winning.

Actually it won't. Steve doesn't win the big race. Wow. This subversion of expectations would actually be a fun twist if it genuinely mattered. But it doesn't. Steve wins enough money to pay off Kenny's debt. Of course he still owes $137k in back taxes but forget all that let's go clubbing! I know they mention how he has a long way to go since no one actually expects you to pay off that kind of debt right away, but it's still the concept of it. You feel frustrated that the whole movie built up to this only for nothing to really happen. Clambake at least had an intrapersonal conflict where Scott's trying to see if he's liked for his personality as opposed to his nepotistic roots. Here I know nothing about Steve outside of him being a professional racer. Therefore I do not care about whether he wins or not. After all it's not like anything actually changed.

Sure Steve isn't in immediate debt anymore but that doesn't mean it won't happen again. Steve is treating the symptoms of poverty and debt before treating the actual cancer that is his manager Kenny. In other words, Steve winning this one race doesn't mean Kenny kicked his gambling habit. Steve winning this one race doesn't mean the father got a well paying job that allows him to provide for his children. Nothing that caused Steve to actually be in this position was changed. All he did was win enough money to no longer deal with the immediate negative consequences. Why should I be happy knowing this could all happen again if Kenny makes one bad bet? But who cares when at the end of the day none of what just happened actually matters am I right?

I have no idea why the choices that were made were made since you have Nancy Sinatra being Nancy Sinatra when she's supposed to be an otherwise ordinary woman who works with the IRS. Even if you don't know who she is, the movie itself is just awful with many scenes only existing for padding and a painfully boring story. I'm amazed that watching this movie made me realize I was actually quite harsh on Harum Scarum. Is it nonsensical and very cringe inducing? Yes. Is it a rehash of something Elvis had already previously done and is boring as sin? Absolutely not. Speedway manages to be all of the above. I had very little joy watching it. There's so little plot that you can easily turn this into a short film. The songs add nothing and if anything demonstrates that duplicating successful Elvis movies means nothing if you don't understand why they were successful in the first place.

When combined with a terrible romance and a horrible use of characters this is the worse Elvis movie I've seen so far. If you're a fan of any of the demographics this movie is trying to target do not watch it. Elvis looks like he's permanently trapped at the IRS office with how irritated he looks most of the movie, Nancy Sinatra has absolutely no charm with how boring her character is, and racing fans would feel totally ripped off to see big name racers like Richard Petty get his own name card in the opening credits only for that to be his only appearance. This is a 3/10 simply because I don't know how bad a movie needs to be to genuinely deserve a lower score. It's so beyond shocking how we go from King Creole to this in the span of a decade. The movie being a box office success is the best example of how just because something is popular doesn't mean it's good. And this movie quite frankly is not good at all and is only another brick in the proverbial wall that is Elvis' Hollywood career.

An: Man. I don't like skipping over songs or a lot of scenes in the movie, but I just couldn't find it in me to go through it all in full detail without copying and pasting my live reaction blurbs during a watch party. What a way to celebrate Valentine's Day. I thought this movie was going to be mid at worst but I was shocked at how bad this was. I wish I had a better movie that showcased a strong romance but oh well. Better luck next time I guess. Let's hope March gives me a "pot of gold".

Tagging: @codalysssssworld, @presleysweetheart, @smokeymountainboy, @arrolyn1114, @peaceloveelvis,

@mercsandmonsters, @eapep, @atleastpleasetelephone, @without-him, @lucy114505,

@blighted-star, @rjmartin11, @elvisbdoll, @dragonkingsdaughter, @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke,

@ilovequeen978, @fuzzymusic94, @halieghhh, @tacozebra051, @hooked-on-elvis,

@lola-1013, @father-of-2cats, @southcarolinawoman, @elvisflowerchild, @elviscinema,

@i-r-i-n-a-a, @jadeeloveselviss, @xanatenshi, @thelonelyheart, @vintagepresley,

@iloveelvis2, @elvisfangirl92, @angelelvis, @chihirolunvh, @epcoffeelovenotes,

@jd5824, @ahundredlifetime, @alienelvisobsession, @eptodaytommorowforever, @freudianslumber,

@wanderingelvis, @lustnhim, @lvrdollep, @georgefairbrother, @bioshockpunch,

and @joecartwright1842.

[fifi-in-the-new-world]

Upright: Change, transition, transformation.

Reversed: Decay, stagnation, sleep.

[egophiliac]

(breathing into a paper bag) FRALIO....

can't believe they gave us another guy. oh my god. so I guess Kelka is more, uhhh, more OOO then, and Fralio is Ankh? not that it matters too much, although they do seem to be doing something with the connected Riders so. who knows. anything goes! or if I may, anything gOOOes! god. of course they're the Ambition parallel. of course they are. oh my god.

fortunately there's nothing else they can throw at me right now that could possibly --

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[snowthedemonfox]

decided to actually redraw both these guys and make proper 'refs' for them. ty everyone for liking my silly alien au designs <3

i like talking abt this au :3

[sysig]

Cards 👏 cards 👏 cards 👏 (Patreon)

[claitea]

bw remakes coming soon (my purrloin works at gamefreak)

WAIT DONT SAY THIS YET ITS TOO SOON. LET THEM WORK ON LEGENDS ZA FIRST!!!!

[odysseys-blood]

begging on my hands and knees please pb stop killing your own game its getting quiet in hereeee