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jiminrings · 4 years ago

Note

can we get a fratboy Jimin and good girl oc with pinning from both sides 👀 ahhhh thank u in advance love ur writing!!

cherry king

drabble week: day four

drabble week masterlist

pairing: fratboy!jimin x goody two-shoes!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“next!”

great!! the line’s moving :D

that’s only like the 87th time jimin has heard the word next and it makes him wonder how much more would it take him to bring him to the front

(it’s actually only been 14 times and jimin might just be a self-admitted impatient bitch!!!)

he understands that yes, it’s ten in the evening!!! and reasonably-large stores/pharmacies like these can have less staff at the time compared to ten in the morning

sure, checkout machines and cashier lanes could be broken down!! or they could just not be open at all

jimin gets that alright, maybe the self-checkout machines are close at this time of the night because it is ten in the evening

what’s not clicking in his mind, however is that at the exact time that he comes here

as in the EXACT time that he’s here (!!!) — there happens to be dozens of people in a store at ten in the evening, and there happens to be a grand total of one (1) cashier lane

atleast random store music would be entertaining :((( all he hears are the beeps of a scanner and the chatter of groups of people who came here

jimin was eavesdropping on some guys in front of him and he wAS invested but lmao turns they were just discussing the plot of die hard or any testosterone-jacked movie like it

he’s also tried looking at the smaller middle-aged woman’s phone in front of him who’s scrolling through her facebook feed, but quickly decides against continuing it

because what if u could see his face and when she turns it off, she’d see a college guy deeply-invested in the baloney article she was reading about how subway sandwiches are the work of the devil

so uh yeah he’s just looking everywhere besides the front, back, and the sides of him and in all angles basically

he’s,,,,, aimlessly scrolling through his instagram feed he’s already scrolled through tHREE times and his explore’s page a little too dry

it’s a good thing that jimin’s entirely sure he’s the nosiest person out of this line and no one else is trying to figure him out

might be wrong though

“cherry king?”

hold the fuck on

jimin’s eyes widen, head snapping up and clueless to the fact that he doesn’t look discreet at all, and his head-cocking’s the most movement he’s done the whole time in this store

WHO’S SAYING HIS NICKNAME?????

it can’t be a coincidence either because as far as he’s concerned, there isn’t anything named cherry king that’s being sold here

there is literally NO other plausible scenario happening here besides the fact that someone who knows him is in the store!!!!

his gaze falls to the person behind him, brows knitted in confusion until it clicks

that was you?

“jimin? huh, it really is you. i thought i was losing my mind for a second.”

“y/n?”

okay maybe hE’S the one who’s losing his mind here

he knows you!! you’re the smart girl in his year who’s known for being pristine and stuff!! you’re like the good-est girl he’s ever known and heard of

.... quick question lads is that weird to know someone by

“you could’ve just called me by my name, y’know,” jimin chuckles heartily, still a little dumbfounded to see you here but he’s grateful for the interaction nonetheless

you look casual today?? like you still look like yourself but everyone else would think it’s an out-of-body experience to see you out of your pretty dresses and monochromatic get-ups

it’s you..,.. in a hoodie three sizes larger than your size with your pristine shoes traded in for socked-feet wearing slides

jimin thinks that you look like grace under pressure

“i wasn’t sure,” you smile right back and it’s the first time he realizes that there’s glasses atop your nosebridge, softening your image more from the usual composed look you carried

“how were you sure enough to say my nickname out-loud though?”

jimin questions you, bringing light to how he’s wearing a plain white shirt and is looking as relaxed as ever with how he’s dressed — his hair long enough to be put into a messy sprout of a bun

you clear your throat, the amusement bubbling in your scratchy throat

“you have yourself as your lockscreen, jimin.”

oh my gOD

he winces when you say it, eyes screwing shut in embarrassment that he whines in pain with how direct you put it

“n-no way — fuck you respectfully, y/n. i-i’m not- i’m changing it right now!!”

does he look the vainest person alive rn

the way he has a mini freakout entertains you to your core, giggles unable to be suppressed as he finds the latest-taken picture he has of dogs that he comes across with

that’s 10/10 an experience he doesn’t want to repeat again

“it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone.”

he hears you reassure and he believes you, a flustered blush on his cheek still as he coughs to make up for a diversion topic he couldn’t think of

frankly, you’re getting bored too and jimin’s the only form of entertainment you have because using your phone atm would be too disorienting

“what are you doing here, by the way?”

your head tilts in query and he’s relieved that you address something else, not being relieved seconds later when he realizes his answer

“just a little supply run for our frat. we weren’t supposed to run out of things for three more days, so this is just a lil emergency haul for awhile.”

you nod in understanding, glancing down at his basket and uh

uhm 1/4 of the space is literally occupied by boxes of condoms

....

......

jimin’s confused to why you turn silent, thinking that he must’ve gotten boring to continue talking to until he follows your gaze to his basket

NO WAY?!]>|>]%%[%]%]

“i-it’s not l-like that!!!” he crouches and immediately gets the food and the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to bury the condoms in the bottom of the pile, attractively getting more attention from you who’s ready to let it go

“i-it’s not — it’s ours — n-no!! t-they just gave me a list and i just put it because it’s on the list b-but like it wasn’t my-...”

how many more times will the universe fuck jimin up in front of the person he has a lil happy crush on

you only smile meekly, tilting your head and he thinks this is the part where you tell him how much of a douche he is

"y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

“t-that?” jimin clarified albeit confused, thinking back to his nickname as he tries to rapidly connect the dots to not look like a fool

cherry king? that?? what do you-

WAIT WHAT

“nO!! o-of course not!!”

he almost shrieks and his voice sounds ultimately defensive, shaking his head no

why does he look so frantic

“hey, hey, i believe you! — calm down, jimin. you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

whew

fuck

but he argues that it iS the truth though!!!

but why won’t you just ask him why he’s called cherry king though >:(

you’re already content with the silence after the conversation but he isn’t, still wanting more

is it so bad that he wants redemption D:

“how about you? what are you doing here?”

you don’t answer instantly and it’s because you’re nudging jimin to continually walk, the cashier looking much more visible now as he’s nearer in line

he takes a look at the handful of things that’s in your basket —

electrolytes, hot pockets, soup, cup noodles and fever patches...?

“oh. i think i’m running a fever.”

what???

what are you doing here aLONE if you think you’re running a fever???

he’s not gonna lie about the fact that you don’t look too good

what if you pass out and no one’s there for you and all the graveyard shift employees do is put a wet floor sign around your figure???

“y/n?? what are you doing here alone then?? are you oUT of your mind??”

the panic in jimin’s voice is clear as day and you’re a little startled, instead responding to tapping him on the shoulder to point that he’s already the one on the cashier

what he does is grab your basket before he is, putting it in front of the conveyor belt because he couldn’t even wait for it to roll out

“i said i think i’m running a fever.”

jimin stops from simultaneously rummaging for his rewards card and putting his items on the counter to unceremoniously drop the box of condoms down jUST to put his hand on your forehead

“you are.”

you surely don’t think low of jimin but you can’t help be surprised either at his concern for you when this is the only time you’ve had a conversation with him!!!

“you drove here?” he asks in seriousness, sending you a look while waiting for the total amount

“walked. the airconditioning makes me even more sick,” you answer with no fuss because even thinking about car fresheners while you’re sporting a fever makes you want to gag. “let me-...”

jimin already pays for both your items in cash, getting them bagged separately as he’s not gonna take no for an answer for what he’s gonna propose next

“then i’ll keep the windows down. i’ll drive you back to your dorm.”

he grabs both your bags in one hand and uses the other to beckon you over, holding you still because it’s dark out and a fever vision wouldn’t exactly help

it’s only when he straps you in and (true to his word) puts the windows down and starts his car that you start asking

“why are you doing this for me?”

why IS he doing this for you??

jimin thinks about his answer in a second

“would you do the same for me?”

well

if you were in front of him at a godforsaken line, had yourself as your lockscreen, realize that jimin’s behind you with a fever and is by himself in a store at 10 in the evening

“of course i would.”

jimin smiles, steering away from his parking spot

“then i would too.”

( ♡ )

maybe you’re thinking of jimin

no wait you’re dEFINITELY thinking of jimin

you’re much better now and your fever’s already subsided enough for you to go back to class!!!

the whole interaction with him was three days ago and maybe your head is just full of him at this point

“are you sure you’re okay to handle this by yourself??”

jimin worries when he drops your bag to your hands, briefly coming inside your dorm to set it down

“mhmm. i’ll just sleep it out.”

“i think if you’re missing a couple of steps.”

you snort as his paranoid features, waving him off. “i’ll eat. then go to the bathroom. and then sleep.”

okay good enough

“what if this just-“ jimin trails off, his expansive mind suddenly running as he points to your chest, “stops????”

cute

“i have a smart watch.”

“would you put me as one of the emergency contacts? please?”

he’s making you take down his number without malice because jeez he’s gENUINELY worried!!!!

it may not always be great sharing a house with his frat brothers, but he knows that if he has a fever, atleast half of them would dote over him and you have atleast one who would go into hysterics!!! it’e a full package!!

“i’ll be okay, jimin. i’ll call you when i need someone to hand me my puke bucket.”

“please do. i’m not even kidding. get better now because i miss your dresses.”

o_O

uhm

“n-no i meant your usual style!! wait, not that there’s anything wrong w-with your style right now. i-i was-...”

“yeah. i miss them too. now go home, jimin.”

“you sure?”

u never really had the impulse to invite a guy to go inside your place but maybe now you do

“mhmm. drive safe.”

okay

:-)

“good night, y/n. call me whenever.”

classes were a bit rough today because you’re still easing yourself on getting back to the groove of things, but it was tolerable!!!

you’re getting your key out of your backpack when a lock clicks open a couple doors away from you, the hinge noisily squeaking

it’s jimin who leaves it, with seri who’s the actual occupant of the dorm leaning on the doorframe

“y/n—!”

he squeaks the moment his eyes land on you

your hand automatically waves, the same meek smile for him to see

“jimin.”

( ♡ )

the last interaction you had with him is still on jimin’s mind, a whole week later

it’s been bothering him recently that you know what it looks like the last time around!!!! but he could swear up and down that it wasn’t

he just feels this great urge to explain even if you haven’t asked

“oh. so we have to move out for the time-being?”

jimin clarifies with namjoon, the head of the frat, and he’s met with a solemn nod

it makes sense!!!

the house got checked today and there were mULTIPLE fire hazards!!! and it needs to be fumigated anyway under new campus protocol so it indeed makes sense

practically everyone's going home because it’s a long weekend anyway because of a holiday

and he’s not sure if he wants to take the same route.

“hi.”

jimin squeaks the moment you open your door, surprise evident on your face but not shock to the point you’d close the door on him

“jimin?”

okay maybe he’s gonna go straight to explaining

“frat house needed to be closed because of some complications, and it wouldn’t be open to us for another three days. most of the guys are coming home,” jimin clears his throat, his head down while he shyly scratches the back of his ear, “i have one, but i’m not sure if i wanna.”

it’s that problem

it takes one, two seconds before it all registers in your head, nodding surely

“you can take my bed. i’ll take the couch, it’s a pull-out anyways.”

you open the door for him widely and the only thing you ask if he’s had dinner and if he’d like some

god you’re really throwing him in a loop here

it’s after a batch of your cooking that jimin’s only ache is why you were the way that you were, half-dazed the whole time he’s met you properly

“why do you never ask me?”

“hmm?” you hum as you dry the dishes that you’ve used, wanting to get it done as soon as possible so your full attention would be on him

no, actually. jimin WANTS you to pry!!

he wants you to worm your way into his privacy and into the confines of his mind

but it seems like you’ve already did without even asking.

“ask me why i’m called the cherry king.”

you tilt your head in confusion, that time playing in your head of why jimin looked confused when you didn’t continue to ask further

maybe you’ll indulge him

“why are you called the cherry king?”

jimin smiles, leaning to your couch with his arms relaxed

“we did secret santa for christmas at our frat house. taehyung thought it would be nice if he pranked me by gifting me a jar full of cherries, but i thought that was his actual gift, and i liked it to the point that i finished it in one sitting.”

tHAT’S ACTUALLY PRETTY ENDEARING

cute, even

“ask me why i came out of seri’s apartment last week.”

oh that’s.,.,. that’s a bit higher in level compared to nicknames

“why did you come out of seri’s apartment last week?”

“because seri’s the ex-girlfriend of hoseok, my frat brother, and he wanted me to return all her stuff because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his cheating ex.”

well that was definitely weighted

jimin plays with the hem of his shirt, the words tumbling out of his mouth

“ask me why i love you.”

why do you wHAT

your mouth drops open, the new position you took on the other end of the couch taking an impact on him

“w-why do you love me?”

jimin’s a lot of things but he’s not drunk tonight

he doesn’t know why he’s letting his feelings slip either, but it’s the bottomless need that he feels when he’s around you

“i feel wanted. i feel needed.”

he smiles cheerfully even if he feels shy dropping this on you all of a sudden

“not sure if you want me nor need me, but i feel welcome with you if that makes sense.”

“you just make me feel loved, i guess.”

jimin looks at you for the first time since he’s opened his mouth, an equally fond look on your face

you said no words but what jimin receives is a gentle tug, your hand on the side of his face until he’s leaning on your shoulder

“i wanna know what's up there.”

he points a finger to your temple, an amused lilt to his tone, “surprise me.”

it’s an unfolding of things that was weeks in the making but months in developing, the distant glances leading you to recognize jimin in the shop in the first place

“i feel the exact same with you,” you answer honestly and it makes his laugh from his chest, his cheeks warm and his heart content

and you just wanna suspend yourselves in this moment forever

“oh! and if i were to lose my virginity to anyone at the moment, it'd be you!!”

...

....

jimin swats at your shoulder to which you only giggle at, a toothy smile on display as this is the warmest he’s ever felt

“i wasn’t kidding!!!”

you yawn when you defend yourself, predicting that you’d fall asleep sooner or later on the couch, but for the time-being, you just stroke jimin’s hair to soothe the both of you

jimin is now the furthest thing from sleepy

"what? you told me to surprise you!!"

428 notes · View notes

tyunniverse · 5 years ago

Text

FRIENDS FOR A DAY (2)

pair: yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2654

parts: 1 | 2

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

It had been a long time since Yeonjun felt like this. Sometimes life in general had become too much to bear and the things that used to make him happy weren't working for him anymore. Times spent alone slowly became more frequent for him than times he'd spent with his friends.

He'd skipped the first day, not wanting to go back to that routine life just yet. And towards the start of the day, he would never have imagined meeting you and getting to spend the day doing things that strayed far from any of the schedules he'd previously planned. A breath of fresh air was what he liked to call it, and he had you to thank for that.

Unlike him, everything was new to you; a new city, a new school, new people, and a whole new life ahead. Yeonjun felt a little envious after realizing it when you'd talked more about yourselves during lunch, but after seeing how you seemed to enjoy every single second of your little sight seeing endeavor, he thought that maybe he could also be a part of something new in your life.

Best friends.

You had agreed to be his best friend from today onwards; the pendant around your neck serving as proof. Yeonjun finds his hand wandering over to his pocket, holding on to his old necklace.

Half of a star. He'd bought it a few years back. The necklace had a similar purpose with the one he was wearing now— meant to be worn separately by two different people. In his case, he had bought it as a whole and had decided to keep one half of it still in its case, stashed inside his closet. His reasons for purchasing it never really felt clear even to him but he also wouldn't call it an impulsive decision. Yeonjun liked to think that he'd be able to find a use for it in the future.

"Yeonjun." You call for his attention, pointing at the posters plastered on a random shop's wall. "It says that the annual carnival will be opening tonight. Wanna go?"

Yeonjun grins. Opportunities somehow kept showing up right in front of his doorstep. "Yeah, only if you want to though. Afterall, I'm only the tour guide for today."

"Shut up." You hold back a smile. "Have you been there before?"

Yeonjun repeats the question in his mind. As someone one would consider pretty popular, you'd expect him to be no stranger in hanging out at fun places like an annual carnival, but that's just it. Yeonjun had never visited that Carnival once ever since it opened. His friends had asked him to tag along but something about it just never seemed to make him want to.

"No." Yeonjun answers, scratching the back of his head. "If we end up going then this would be my first time too." The first time he'd actually wanted to go.

"I guess we're going then." You grin and Yeonjun finds himself smiling back. "It says here that the Carnival's just around the corner so it'd probably be okay if we just walked there."

"Yeah."

The two of you make your way to the Carnival. You still had a good amount of time left before it opened so a few quick stops at some stalls along the way didn't do any harm.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

In all honesty, Yeonjun didn't even know when and how he'd ended up holding your hand, laughing his heart off by the time you arrived at the entrance but it all just happened somehow. Was it the when your ice cream cone almost landed straight on his shoe earlier? Or when his hand nearly hit you square in the face when he noticed a bug flying towards you? It could've even been when a group of old ladies started hitting on him at the handbag boutique and all you did was stand there shaking, wanting to laugh your ass off.

No matter what the reason was, he liked this. Somehow, it just felt right.

The two of you pay for the tickets before heading inside. The place was larger than any of you had ever expected, cleaner too. People of all ages were enjoying their carnival experience to the fullest. Children were running around with their guardians following closely behind, couples and groups of friends chatting along and taking pictures— Yeonjun could swear he saw two old men arguing over who gets to take a picture with the mascot first.

"So, which ride do you wanna go on first?" You ask, turning to him.

"Well, how about that one." Yeonjun points at the viking and you feel yourself getting more and more excited.

"NICE—" Before Yeonjun knew it, you were dragging him around to every single ride at the carnival.

You liked to keep count of everytime Yeonjun freaked out while you went on the rides, and Yeonjun liked to do the same. Despite the thrill of being at a carnival keeping you hyped up, there were a few times when you had overestimated your tolerance with being thrown around. Yeonjun nearly puked twice: once at the twister, and a second time on the rollercoaster. Even you were almost a victim by the rollercoaster's loops.

Yeonjun had claimed he was an expert at navigating haunted house attractions, stating, "I've been watching horror movies all my life. Nothing scares me at this point, tbh." True enough, nothing scared Yeonjun except every single ominous decoration and jump scares the haunted house threw at him. You weren't too fond of horror yourself, but you ended up trying to be the brave one after Yeonjun basically clung to you half of the time. It didn't help whenever you freaked out since you ended up losing Yeonjun after he not so subtly abandons you at the slightest suspicious sound. It was a miracle you made it out in one piece.

"Yeah, so, uh, sorry about that." Yeonjun laughs it off the moment you two got out.

"Sure but you should know that I'm never gonna let you live it down." You tell him, smiling widely as you hold up the photos you received from one of the staff. "I got evidence."

Yeonjun snatches the photos from your hands. "Bold of you to assume these'll affect me— oh." It definitely did.

You watch as he slips the photos inside his jacket as if it wasn't obvious enough that he was trying to hide it from you. "Nice try but," You take out another batch of photos and wave it around. "Boom. Two copies."

"Wow, okay."

The two of you ended up laughing at each other before you suggest in trying out the stalls. They say time flies by fast when you're having fun and they couldn't be more right. There had been an unspoken competition between you and Yeonjun of who can win the most prizes and let's just say you weren't about to let yourself lose. By the time you got tired, you had a total of three plushies and a bunch of candy bars stuffed in your pockets and well, Yeonjun had the exact amount of prizes you had.

"Fine. It's a draw for now but only because I'm tired." Yeonjun holds the plushies tighter. "We should really get a bag for this. I wonder if we can get a huge plastic bag somewhere."

"Nah, we can just put em in here." You take off your back pack, opening it wide. "I'm sure it can fit all six of them. They're small enough." You were lucky that they did, finally leaving your hands free.

"Wait." Yeonjun pauses after putting the last of his plushies inside. "How can I be sure you won't just take my plushies for yourself after we leave? I'm pretty easy to distract so—"

"If you forget to get them back then I'll just hand them to you tomorrow at school. You go to HSU too, right?" You tell him.

"Yeah, but how will you contact me?"

"Obviously, we exchange numbers."

Yeonjun blinks. Of course that'd be the simplest solution but still. He'd been talking about staying as friends even after all this but the thought of exchanging numbers hadn't really crossed his mind. He takes out his phone and the two of you quickly added each other as contacts, somehow feeling a bit closer after the exchange.

"While we're at it—" Yeonjun pulls you in closer as he bends down. Only now that you've felt Yeonjun's warmth close to you have you noticed how cold it actually was outside . It takes you a few seconds to register that he wants to take a few selfies.

You bust out a smile and tried to go along with whatever weird faces and poses he did. "Send them to me later." You say after examining the photos. There's one where Yeonjun mimicked a kissing motion near your cheek, making you smile. Who would've expected you two were total strangers up until a few hours ago.

"Got room for one last ride?" Yeonjun asks as you return his phone.

"Yeah, sure. Which one?"

"Don't ask as if you don't know. I'm pretty sure you left this one out on purpose."

Perhaps unconsciously, you did. In every single movie that involved the two characters going to a carnival, for some reason, they always left the Ferris Wheel for last. It's not like you wanted something grand to happen when you ride it, but more like you just wanted to get a good view of the entire carnival before leaving. It seemed like the perfect final attraction.

Yeonjun notices how you've gone quiet and decided to hold your hand, pulling you along. "Let's go before the place closes."

"Okay." You look up at him, nodding.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

The Ferris Wheel ride wasn't all you had expected it to be. It looked pretty slow in the movies but right now? You were about to puke.

"Yeonjun, wait." You hold on to Yeonjun who was sitting opposite to you.

The Ferris Wheel was going too fast to your liking and you started feeling dizzy. Getting a good view of the carnival seemed impossible at this point and looking at your partner made you even more miserable.

Yeonjun was having the time of his life. He loved the feeling in his stomach whenever the ride went down, and the fact that you were lowkey suffering right in front of him made him laugh even harder.

The speed went on for a few more rounds until it finally slows down. Your heart and probably everything else stilled once the ride came to a complete stop just as your car reached the top. "Thank God. I felt like I was going to die."

"Well, you're safe for now." Yeonjun grins, leaning back in his heat. "You wanted to enjoy the view, right? We'll be stuck here for probably about a minute or two so enjoy it while it lasts."

"Yeah." You smile back, looking outside the window.

The winds were colder up there, reminding you of how warm it felt when you stood close to Yeonjun earlier. Yeonjun catches you warming yourself up with your hands and chuckles. He takes off his jacket and hands it over to you. "Here, put this on."

"Thanks." You quickly put his jacket on. Usually you'd go for the polite route and turn him down but if you were going to continue this friendship business then you weren't about to suffer in the cold when the dude's practically handing you a solution.

Yeonjun gives you a little smile before you continue to admire the view. Down there, the lights almost looked like a sea of stars. The music around the place didn't really help set the mood but somehow, the mixture of it along with the laughter and delightful screams of the other visitors made it feel right. After everything that happened today, you felt like it was the right decision to end the day with this breathtaking sight.

And Yeonjun couldn't agree more. The lights below reflected in your eyes in a way that made the atmosphere lighter. He could tell you were happy and right now, that seemed to be enough for him.

The Ferris Wheel began moving. Yeonjun snickers as he felt you grab for his hand, worried that the ride might throw you off once more, but it didn't. The way down was slow, allowing you to enjoy the ride in peace. Your pendant started to shine, reflecting the lights. It reminded him of everything that happened, from the moment you two met and agreed on a friendship that would last for only a day, up until now where he held your hand on the Ferris Wheel after deciding to be friends for real this time. The pendant became the sole proof of that friendship and Yeonjun couldn't help but wonder if the ones he bought a few years back would truly be of any use in the future. But what would it symbolize for? Who knows, he might just give you the other half.

Your car comes to a stop and the doors open. The realization that the day has officially come to an end left you feeling disappointed. Yeonjun squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. He gestures for the two of you to get up and you do, finally stepping back on the ground.

Both you and Yeonjun felt that the way back to the entrance was too fast. It really did seem like the two of you wouldn't see each other again despite the fact you went to the same university. The thought felt silly but that's just how the carnival experience gets to you.

"I guess this is it." Yeonjun speaks up first. "You live pretty far from here, right? I can take you home if you want."

"It's okay. My cousin lives nearby and I texted her earlier that I'd be staying over." You tell him, not wanting him to worry. "How about you? Will you be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, definitely." Yeonjun reassures, holding up his hands. "Oh, and by the way. Is it okay if I leave the plushies on your bag for now? I can't exactly carry them on the way back. If it's ok with you."

"Don't worry. You can just take them back tomorrow." You grin and Yeonjun smiles back. "Also, I'm keeping your jacket for now. I'll return it after I clean it up."

"I can work with that." He shouldn't feel this happy but he did. In a way, he was able to find an excuse to meet up with you tomorrow without things getting awkward. Maybe this friendship could work out afterall.

"Thanks for today. Honestly, this was the most fun I've had ever since I got here." You say, taking one last look at him.

I should be the one to thank you. "You know, I have a lot of things I wanna say to you right now but I think I'm gonna wait until I feel like it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I'll text you later." Yeonjun gives you a quick pat on the shoulder before running off to the opposite direction. "See you at school! And don't forget to bring the kids!"

You raise a brow. Did he just refer to the plushies as his kids?

He felt dumb, running away from you. The longer he stayed, the more he had trouble leaving, which was new for him. It's been a while since he actually found someone he'd like to hang out with and he was having trouble controlling his excitement. Soon, you'd be able to visit each other's houses, hang out more freely, talk about your days as if it were nothing, and get to know each other more. Honestly speaking, Yeonjun couldn't wait for that day to come but I guess he'll just have to start with tomorrow.

#txt imagines #txt x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun

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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 5 years ago

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Seen ✓ - 1

REWRITE OF “Can You See The Stars”

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: fear of being kidnapped Word Count: 2.4k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. A/N:This is my second attempt at the story everyone loved, with an actual pllot in mind this time. So, attempt number two, better writing, better story. Have at it kids.

I have tagged the old taglist for this first part. Let me know if you wanna be removed/ added

Beta: The lovely @percywinchester27 . Thank you so so much hon :) Masterlist

Chapter One: you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night

Y/n | Sam

The road to independence is uphill, and Y/n knows this better than anyone. She’s done it all. She’s gone through jobs at a similar speed with which she goes through books, worked two or more of them, while also studying for college… She knows how it works, and it’s really fucking difficult to balance emotional baggage the size of a city, an underage sister and college, while also trying to keep, not only yourself, but another person, alive, under a safe roof with food in your stomachs.

Currently, she’s only working one job, at a dive bar owned by a friend of a friend as a waitress.

It’s a difficult job, and Y/n has struggled with it, but the hardest part is not the endless knowledge one needs to mix drinks –on the nights Joel takes time off and she has to take his spot behind the bar- or the carrying up to twenty pounds of glasses and drinks and delivering them at the right table without soaking herself or anyone else with copious amounts of alcohol. Any minimum wage worker will tell you the same thing- clients of any kind fucking suck. Especially if you’re a young woman at a dive bar after midnight.

Another thing she’s struggled with is not having too much money, which is why she’s needed multiple jobs in the past, so she has to use public transport- buses specifically, to go to and from work. And that is exactly where she finds herself, a couple hours after midnight, at her bus stop, five minutes from the bar, when she finds a phone which, unbeknownst to her, will flip her world upside down.

It sits on the pavement of the bus stop, limp and sad. The screen is cracked a significant amount, and for a second she figures someone got rid of it and was too much of an asshole to throw it in the trash. But the second that thought crosses her mind, the screen lights up with a concerning text.

dude where the fuck are you?!

The contact reads “Sam”, and Y/n stands over the phone staring at it. She’s concerned. What if the phone’s owner is in trouble? The device may have fallen from their pocket on the pavement and cracked because they were running from someone and never made it home, and now whoever is texting them is worried for their well-being. Anxiety grips her heart.

It’s instinct that brings her to kneel down and pick it up. She can’t possibly know when the owner lost it, or how long the phone has been sitting there, but there’s an overwhelming urge to contact this Sam person and let them know what’s going on. Of course, the voice in Y/n’s head tells her that this all could just be a product of her anxiety, but it beats leaving it there and having it be stolen by a passerby.

Whatever, right? Best case scenario, she contacts the owner, who is perfectly safe and sound, and they take their phone back. She’s not really planning to pocket it. It’s fairly damaged anyways. Her own three year old, beat-up, 100$ phone is in better condition.

The bus arrives, and Y/n picks up the phone and boards it.

As she sits in her usual seat in the back, alone in the bus apart from an elderly man asleep with his head on a window and a cap on his head near the front, she starts speculating, eyes glued to the black device in her hands. Who’s the owner? Who is Sam to them? Perhaps a partner? A friend? How did the owner lose their phone? Why would this Sam sound so concerned, and most importantly, is the owner okay?

The heavy weight of dread weighs her chest at the thought of the phone’s owner being in trouble and without a phone. She must contact Sam immediately.

Hey, is this Sam?

As she awaits for a response, her curiosity is killing her. The intrigued part of her, reasons that she should snoop, it’s alright, she’s only looking for more information about the owner. Like whether or not they’re a woman or a man- which, sadly, matters when you’re walking alone in dark streets like the ones around this area- and perhaps their age –because, again, it matters if they are a teenager or a forty-year old adult.

The lack of passcode indicates someone older, with nothing to hide, or perhaps someone less technologically savvy, again, someone who may not be very young. The lockscreen is the most popular Led Zeppelin icon, and she instantly respects their music taste, and the home screen is some generic western movie from the 90s with Clint Eastwood. The chances of this belonging to someone younger further decline.

There’s a grand total of four downloaded apps in the phone. There’s an email app, a scrabble app, a microphone recorder and a dating app, no other sign of social media. Someone over 18 years old, definitely.

Soon, she’s tapping on the dating app, and opening their profile page. Holy shit, she thinks.

A guy, the tall, dark and handsome kind. Spiky hair and a smolder-like smile, sharp edges everywhere on his face apart from his gentle, olive-shaped and colored eyes. His lips are full, his nose straight, and his eyelashes long, dark and thick. He’s a real-life dreamboat, the kind you see in movies and Cosmopolitan articles about sex. He’s sitting on a black muscle car, a Chevrolet, with his thick thighs barely contained in blue jeans.

Dean Winchester, the app writes. 28. Male. Likes: old cars, beer, hard rock, westerns, she figured that much, bacon burgers. Dislikes: pop music, modern horror movies, uncomfortable beds. Not looking for anything serious, just a night of fun ;), and wow, okay, he sounds a bit like a dick. The very Red-blooded American Male kind, that enjoys BBQs and winking at women from across the bar. She’s had enough of those during her line of work; she can recognize them from a mile away.

Whatever the case, her moral compass couldn’t allow her to pass up on the opportunity to possibly help someone in trouble. She ignores her urge to roll her eyes, and scrolls a little, finding other pictures of the same guy, when suddenly two separate notifications appear, the phone itself vibrating. One is from the app, which has now received a picture from this girl, Jamie, one which she certainly doesn’t plan on opening, seeing as it’s followed by a winky face. The second one is from Sam.

jesus dean how drunk are you

yes it’s sam. your brother? remember?

No, this isn’t Dean, uh.

My name is Y/n. Your brother lost his phone at a bus stop, near a bar.

i should’ve figured. dean rarely ever uses punctuation.

nice to meet you i guess

Nice to meet you, too.

So basically, uhm, I thought you might help me return his phone to him? I got worried, because this was dumped on the sidewalk, I thought he may be in trouble or something.

knowing him he probably dropped it while being too shitfaced to function.

gotta admit i’m impressed though. most people would’ve pocketed it by now.

I mean, it’s not much use to me with such a cracked screen haha.

yeah i guess.

i don’t know about getting it back to him though. i’m in kansas right now so i’m not close by. i don’t think i can help you.

he doesn’t use social media either.

Crap.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this phone then?

keep it probably.

You sure there’s no other way I can reach him?

i mean i can give you his email but i’m not sure he’ll respond.

I’ll take it. Thank you :)

no problem :)

As she looks up the bus stops, and she quickly realizes this is her stop. Throwing profanities loudly enough to wake the older man at the front of the bus, she scrambles for her things, haphazardly thrown in the seat next to her, and gets off the bus. She pats herself down, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything as the doors of the bus shut, and starts down the road to her apartment complex.

She could probably navigate this road blind. There are many ways to reach the apartment she’s renting from the bus stop, but her favorite goes through the park. It’s a large area, full of big trees with thick foliage and leaves that brown in the fall. The paths are paved and winded, and the park benches are stained with dark wood stain and curve comfortably. She enjoys coming here in evenings she has off, watching the sun descend behind the top of the trees with a good book.

The air smells like oncoming rain now, and with headphones deep in her ears, she walks taking deep breaths and enjoying the clear atmosphere that seems so unlike the roads that surround the park. As soon as she spots the first raindrop falling from the sky, she pulls her hood over her head and smiles.

It’s minutes later, when single drops have picked up to a drizzle, that she gets a sinking feeling, her hair standing up on edge at the back of her neck, shoulders knotting closer to her ears. Someone is close to her.

With the wire pinched between her thumb and index, she pulls one earbud off and pays attention to the surrounding sounds. Sure enough there’s a second pair of footsteps behind her.

Fuck, if she gets kidnapped or attacked right now, she’s fucked. There are no witnesses, and at this time of night screaming for help would be futile. She checks her bag, but her paper spray is nowhere to be found.

Yeah. Definitely fucked.

Her hands go deep in her pockets, going for her phone, but as she hears the footsteps behind her picking up speed along with hers, she panics and grabs Dean’s instead. She doesn’t look for her own, there’s no time for that, so she does the first thing she thinks of.

She texts Sam.

I think I’m being followed.

what?

Yeah

wait what’s going on? are you okay? who’s following you?

I’m walking home from work. I can’t see who it is, but they’re definitely on my tail.

how are you even typing right now??

is there any buildings around? somewhere public to get in?

It’s 3 am. Everything is shut and I’m in the middle of a fucking park, Sam.

Fuck, I’m fucked.

what are you doing at 3 am in the middle of a fucking park then?!

A hand falls on her shoulder and she goes to scream, before she’s quickly spun around. Her free hand is curled in a fist, ready to fall on the attacker’s nose, when they speak.

“Y/n! I thought it was you!”

“Connor?!” She squints and pushes her hair away from her forehead, heart just about ready to fail out of the fright she’s gotten. “Fuck’s sake, dude, what the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me in the middle of the night like this?!” Rain still falls on her, grounding her to the present, the fact she won’t have to fight for her life and corporeal integrity sinking in slowly.

Her neighbor smiles a crooked smile, watching her place a hand over her heart and taking a deep breath. His fluffy blonde hair is damp under the light rain, light green eyes glowing under the street lights. She’s so angry at him right now, she legitimately thought she was gonna die for a second there.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “I didn’t think to call out to you.” A shrug.

“It’s okay,” it’s really not, but there’s no point in staying angry at him. Besides, she figures she’ll be a little safer with him walking next to her all the way back to their apartment complex.

On the way back, they catch up. Connor is back in town after a long week and a half at his sister’s wedding. He’s in a brand new relationship with the guy he’s been pining over for like 9 months now, and he got a job at the bookstore, close to their building, he’s starting next week. He was out for a drink, he offers as an explanation, and was returning home, when he bumped into her. The park is also his favorite route to take.

The key dangles from her hands and finds a home in the lock and twists, while Y/n waves at her neighbor.

“Have a good night, Connor.”

“You too, Y/n.” It’s delivered with a wink and a bright smile.

The motions of dropping her bag by the kitchen counter, dumping the keys in the small bowl and hanging her coat on the hanger are delivered on autopilot in quick succession. Shoes toed off, hair pulled out of her lazy bun, she falls unceremoniously on her thrifted couch, feet suspended on the hand rest. Emmy must be asleep, the only lights on in the house are the fairy lights over the couch, setting a soft glow over the furniture. Y/n sighs. What a day.

Seconds before she falls asleep on the couch, a phone vibrates and it’s definitely not her own. Her eyes snap wide open, and she curses, fumbling with Dean’s device.

The messages are seven, and they all share the same panicked tone. Upon reading them, Y/n facepalms and curses, guilt weighing her down. Poor guy.

y/n?

what’s going on?

are you okay?

y/n

what the hell is going on.

you’re not replying.

please text me if you’re safe.

My God, Sam, I’m so sorry.

It was a neighbor/friend, he sneaked up on me.

you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night.

I’m genuinely so sorry, Sam, I had no idea it was him.

it’s okay

you were scared.

i am starting to question your choice in friends though.

Y/n grins for the first time that day. It’s wide and full. Sam sounds like a guy she’d hang out with.

Hahahah yeah.

I promise, Connor’s odd, but he means well.

well i have to go

but i’m glad you’re safe

Again, I’m really sorry to make you go through that.

it’s fine really.

Thank you.

Goodnight :)

Night :)

---

Part 2

A/N 2: Tell me how you’re liking the rewrite!

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove @sammysgirl1997 @kymberlytorres @bambi95-blog @demonic-meatball @thekarliwinchester @littlekay15 @li-m-ii @thinspo-isuppose @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker @marichromatic @illuminatus42 @lazy-author @mirandaaustin93 @hauntedsiriel @pilaxia @devilgirlsarah @nobodys-baby-now @captiveties @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes @captainmarvelcorps @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @nellachain

#sam winchesterx reader #sam x fem!reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfic #sam x reader

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #420

lol blaze it (i’m funny i swear)

In your opinion, which fast food place has the best fries? Without a doubt, Bojangle's. Good. Shit. Are there hurricanes where you live? Yeah, they're common here. What do you hate the most about yourself? I'd really rather not get into this right about now. What song are you listening to right now? "Beast of Gévaudan" by Powerwolf. What was your first concert? Alice Cooper. Also my only concert. What’s your favorite Johnny Depp movie? Alice In Wonderland. Who did you last say “I love you” to? My sister. Do you like pumpkin pie? Anything pumpkin-flavored is a hell no from me. Do you know anyone named Austin? Knew, rather. Do you know anyone who is having a baby? My friend recently announced she and her husband are having their second child in December. What was the last thing you cried about? Just PTSD. Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk? I like both, but I prefer chocolate. Do you think you are an argumentative person? Definitely not. How many deep dark secrets do you have? Two or so, idk. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some wings at Buffalo Wild Wings with one of the hottest sauces. Wanted to die. ... Yet I continued to get that one whenever I went for years lmao. Who last called you sexy? I don't know. Would you class yourself as a good role model? In some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no. Are you scared of the dark? No. Do you have a motto? No. Who did you last see on webcam? The doctor that overlooks my TMS progress. Do you need a haircut? I need a trim for sure. How would you react if your mother told you that she was pregnant again? Well, considering 1.) she's way past menopause and especially 2.) she's had a complete hysterectomy, y'know... that's kind of impossible. She also hasn't been with a guy in many years, so she would have to be joking. You log into Facebook and see the red ‘1’ notification next to the message icon. Who do you want it to be? -___- Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? ALONE. You will NOT see me exercise in front of other people. What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? The most involved is DEFINITELY World of Warcraft, and I guess you could consider it the hardest too, given some of the much more difficult things I've done in it. It itself isn't a hard game whatsoever, but you can pursue some really hard achievements. Ever watch the show Supernatural? If you have, then what’s your favorite episode? I used to love it, but just stopped watching eventually. My fave episode... Man, it's been too long to remember many. Probably one of the funnier ones. I remember I specifically liked the bit where they were in your everyday comedy show, as well as the one where I THINK Dean kept trying to prevent Sam from dying. I just remember the "Eye of the Tiger" bit that is pure gold. Ever heard of flavored honey? If so, what’s you’re favorite flavor? Oh, no, but that sounds good. Do you remember what your favorite show was when you were little? Yeah, Pokemon. Do you put anything besides cheese on grilled cheese sandwiches? Besides butter, which I think is pretty standard, no. When it comes to books, what do you think is the “perfect” amount of pages? Uh, I dunno. It depends on the book. I don't really care about page numbers. Would you ever be interested in going scuba diving? Yeah. Out of all of your friends/relatives, who would you say has the best vocabulary? Girt, probably. Are any of your fingers or toes deformed? What about the nails? I don't think so? When is the last time you cried? I was sobbing earlier today, fun stuff. Would you ever date somebody that has been divorced more than once? Most likely not. ESPECIALLY at my age. What are some stereotypically nerdy things that you like? Oh god. WoW, M:tG, big glasses, anime (does that count? idk really), video games... a lot of stuff, really. Have you ever attended a wedding that ended where the bride and groom didn’t actually get married? What happened? Y I K E S, no. That would be SO uncomf. What scares you the most about becoming a mother (hypothetically, if you don’t want to have children)? Actually raising it properly, physically and emotionally. Would you ever want a job in fashion? What would you enjoy about that type of job? No. Would you ever be a surrogate mother? No. What do you think would be the best and worst parts about being a twin? It'd be cool to have someone you feel an almost supernatural connection towards, but I'd also feel like I wasn't as "original" as I would be if I was born alone. Do you feel that your childhood was more rough compared to others around you? I mean it wasn't awful at all, but sure, in some ways compared to at least someone. How would you react if you found out today that you were actually adopted? Well today I'm a wreck, so don't tell me. I want to know that I wasn't lied to for 25 years. Have either of your parents ever cheated on one another before, that you know of? How would you react if you found out today that one of them cheated? I'm not entirely clear on this, but I'm 90% sure Dad cheated on Mom with his now-wife. Dad also accused Mom of cheating, but I HIGHLY doubt that's true. Do you like cleaning and organizing? Not really. How would you react if you found out you were infertile? If you don’t plan on having kids to begin with, what is a long-term goal you’d be crushed to find out was impossible to achieve? Fuck having kids. I'd be a terrible mother. So to answer the other question, I'll be pretty, pretty sad if I can't get permission to spread Teddy's ashes at Yellowstone. Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? Well, obviously not considering my dream job is a meerkat biologist, and I'm not moving to Africa. Have you ever been robbed? No. Is anyone close to you an alcoholic? Not anymore. Dad was, but he's recovered. Have you ever dumped anyone? Yes. What kind of tea do you drink? I hate tea. Do you know anyone in a gang? No, and I hope I never do. What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you? Risk his fucking sanity and health to try to hold my fucked up self up. What is your orientation? Gay? Straight? Metrosexual? Anything other? Bisexual. I've kinda been questioning pansexual of the late, though. I don't know. Have you ever done anything really dangerous or illegal with friends? Not to my memory. Name three feelings you’re feeling right now: Regret. Hopelessness. Loneliness. And the reasons for these feelings? Take a wild fuckin' guess. How do you feel about your life right now? It's an actual dumpster fire. Is it easy for you to like yourself? Why or why not? Fuck no. Because there's just not very much TO like about me. Even on my good days, I see flaw after flaw in myself. What subjects come naturally to you? English, some aspects of science. What subjects do not? Math, economics, politics, history... Do you read more fiction or more non-fiction books? Definitely fiction. When I read a book, I want an escape from the real world. How has today been for you? BOY HOWDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What did you do? Went to TMS therapy. Sat on the Internet. Cried. :^) Are there any candles lit in the room you’re in? No. Are there any lava lamps near you? No. I want one, though. Do you like cats or dogs better? Cats. Are any of your friends a pothead? Yes. What’s a goal you’re trying to accomplish soon? Start losing weight again. That'd be pretty goddamn grand. Are you a high maintenance person? Definitely not. The last time you yelled as loud as you could, what was the reason? I was having a nightmare. Have you ever been heartbroken? For sure. Who did that to you? First Dad, then Jason. Did you go through an ugly stage as a kid? Boy, did I. The last type of sandwich you made or ate: A pb&j. The last time you spent most of the day in bed: Literally every day. I do just about everything in bed. Pathetic, I know. The last friend or acquaintance you made: Ummmm idk. The last thing you took pictures of: A hydrangea bush. The last time you were scared: Now. The future is terrifying, my friend. The last thing you looked up online: The definition of a word to ensure I was using it correctly. The last thing you disagreed with: So I've been watching John Wolfe's old stream of him playing Alice: Madness Returns, and he went on a total soapbox about smoking being okay essentially because we're all gonna die eventually from something, and I really disagreed with it. Does your house have a separate laundry room? No, just like a closet. Do your parents still help you financially? I'm still entirely dependent on them. Does your car have a backup camera? No. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? REALLY old, no. Teddy was definitely up there, but beagles have lived longer. What was the last strong scent you smelled? Lysol. Have you ever told someone to their face that they were ugly? Christ, no. Is your bed against more than one of your walls? No. Have you ever been attracted to someone’s parent? Don't think so? Have you ever pole danced before? No. Have you ever broken into someone’s house? No. Have you ever seen a live bat? Yes. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? I dunno. Have you ever taken a woodshop class? No. How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? Funny you ask, because as of today I decided to take a break from it for awhile. I've found it's nothing more than a breeding ground for envy and making me feel like a horribly incompetent adult. Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? I had one photography teacher in college that I was NOT a fan of. He was super, super hard on everyone, like to an unnecessary degree. We were students, not pros. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? No. Are your parents supportive of you? Somehow.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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bouwrites · 5 years ago

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Maribat March 2020 Prompt: Soulmate

Week 4, Day 2. This story has been previously posted in response to @theatreandcomicfreak‘s prompt here. I’ve done some minor editing to it, but if you’ve read that already, there’s no significant difference. I’m simply reposting the story in a better format to fit within the guidelines of this Maribat event, so that I can more easily link each story together as a group.

Maribat March 2020 Calendar.

Day 1: Sweetheart’s Dance, Day 3: Coffee Shop.

Ao3.

2133 words. Story under read-more.

Marinette has always been a princess. She likes the nickname. Likes being treated like one. Likes the meaning behind it. She’s not so unusual in that way. After all, how many young girls dream of being princesses? Even she can admit that the number of Disney movies alone Marinette has watched over and over again is a little ridiculous. And since her soulmark appeared, Marinette understandably never quite left behind the princess phase. After all, proudly curving on the back of her neck, almost hidden by her hairline, in clear script, is the word “Princess”. The thing her soulmate will call her. She’s not demanding or spoiled or anything like that, or she tries not to be, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy feeling like a princess now and then.

She’s comfortable with her soulmark. It’s not the most uncommon thing, and her having a preference for more established nicknames means she knows from a young age that she’s bound to run into some confusion somewhere down the line. The whole, “are they or are they not?” thing that happens when people use nicknames for friends that just happens to align with their soulmark. She knows it’s coming, so she’s comfortable. Prepared.

She gets a little too comfortable, truth be told, but she learns to hold her tongue. Some people can be like Chat Noir, making up nicknames for everyone, their originality driving them through the cloud of the most common terms of endearment on soulmarks. Marinette is creative enough, and she used to do the same thing, but she learns better now. That leaves her in the other pool of people, who try not to use nicknames much at all, to avoid confusion.

Once you say something, there’s no taking it back. One affectionate “Chaton” and her crime-fighting partner thinks she’s the love of his life. But he never calls her “princess”. He never uses her mark-name. It doesn’t even occur to him to. Marinette takes this as proof that he’s not her soulmate after all, but whenever she tells him this, he just thinks up another nickname to call her.

It’s not frightening or even annoying so much as it is simply awkward. With an everyday friend, that may not be such a problem, but with her partner? They aren’t on the same wavelength, all because of a stupid mark-name. That’s dangerous.

Marinette learns to hold her tongue. Sure, a mistake in everyday life may not have such potentially severe consequences, but even so she’d rather avoid insistent men on her case in her civilian life if possible. Chat Noir is no problem, because Marinette trusts and likes him, but he does teach her a lesson on how some people may react to the wrong name. Nicknames, for her, end up reserved for only her closest friends, if that. The change isn’t as hard as she thinks.

Princess. Marinette can’t help the violent flinch that overcomes her at the name, but Chat Noir doesn’t seem to notice. He keeps going on showboating for her. Princess? Really? Is this a joke?

There’s no other explanation. It has to be some grand cosmic joke. The punchline to the greatest show on Earth. Because Marinette knows Chat Noir isn’t her soulmate. She knows he likes to make up nicknames, but never once has he called her “Princess”.

Marinette uncomfortably touches the mark on the back of her neck, disguising it as simply rubbing it awkwardly. The bold lines spelling out that word. Princess. What… Chat Noir calls her?

Marinette doesn’t have time to think about this. She has an akuma to take down, and with it targeting her as a civilian, she has to be at the top of her game. Chat Noir can wait, soulmate or not. At least for now.

It makes sense, to some extent. If Chat Noir has only not called her princess because his soulmate isn’t Ladybug but Marinette. But then what about him? She called him Chaton while and because he is Chat Noir. Marinette would never even think of calling someone that who isn’t moonlighting as a cat. But then, does that prove that they are soulmates? Or does it prove that they aren’t? Surely someone other than her will call him Chaton. It’s not exactly a hard place to reach, once they learn of his alter ego.

Yeah. Marinette thinks. It’s just a coincidence. Calling some damsel “princess” is just like him, anyway. It should be more surprising that he hasn’t until now. Marinette holds her hair up with one hand and a mirror with the other, examining the mark. Right?

“Tikki?” Marinette reaches one hand up into the air, idly grasping at nothing as her mind consumes her.

“What is it, Marinette?”

Marinette worries her lip, unsure if she can or should ask the question on the tip of her tongue. It takes a few stumbling attempts, but she ends up closing her eyes and asking what’s on her mind. “Why would I have a soulmate that I don’t love?”

Tikki is quiet for long enough that Marinette is tempted to sit up and look, but she refrains. She’s not sure she wants to see the expression on Tikki’s face.

“I just-” Marinette tries to explain. “Chat called me it. Princess. And I called him Chaton. That means we’re soulmates, right? But… I do- I don’t… I’m not sure I love him like that. He’s my best friend, of course, but… I just don’t see him as a… soulmate. Am I broken?”

“Oh, Marinette! No, no you’re not broken at all! Don’t you ever think that about yourself.”

“Bu-”

“No! I said, don’t! There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t even know for sure that he is your soulmate, and even if he is, there’s nothing wrong with having a platonic soulmate! You don’t have to be in love to be soulmates!”

Marinette mulls over Tikki’s words. They echo in her head and roll in her mouth. “But… he loves me.”

“You’re both still so young, Marinette. Give it time! I’m sure things will become clear sooner or later.”

Now, Marinette does sit up. Tikki is smiling earnestly at her, the optimism and confidence in her eyes too infectious for Marinette to resist her own smile. “You really think so?”

“I know so!” Tikki says firmly. “Everything will be okay.”

The school trip is unexpected, in the sense that Marinette all but forgets about it. She knows she has a part in planning it, of course, and she does her part with aplomb, but all of that was set in stone so long ago that with everything else going on, from Hawk Moth to Chat being her maybe-soulmate, it totally slips her mind.

Not to mention how she almost doesn’t go at all. She has a city to protect now, after all. She can’t just go on vacation.

Master Fu solves that problem for her, though, and Marinette finds herself oddly relieved that Kaalki has such a convenient power. Time away from Hawk Moth, even if she is still on call, is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe, without all this outside pressure, she can sit down and figure everything out once and for all.

Plus, it should be fun. A visit to the Daily Planet with Alya in tow alone will make this trip to Metropolis more than worth it. That’s not even starting on all the other events, tours, and activities they have planned. It’s very exciting, and Marinette almost wishes she isn’t so distracted just so she can properly enjoy her classmate’s raving about everything they’re going to do in America.

She’s sure she’s missed some very entertaining discussions. Maybe Alya can catch me up?

“Woah, careful there, princess.”

Marinette freezes at the unexpected touch on her shoulders. She’s a hair away from taking this guy to the ground, but then the situation catches up with her and she barely stops herself.

Pole in the middle of the sidewalk? Threat. Cute guy who has just saved her from slamming face-first into that pole? Probably less so. Also, Princess?!

Marinette examines the guy warily. Black hair, unkempt like he’s just been through a wind tunnel, bright eyes furrowed with concern, muscular arms leading to hands that have still not removed themselves from her shoulders. She shrugs him off, never tearing her eyes from his. She knows how suspicious she must look, and the way he wilts under her stare makes her think she should probably tone it back a bit, but still.

She knows that mistakes happen. She knows Chat might be her soulmate. She knows the likelihood of it being some random passerby in America isn’t exactly in her favor. But he has to be sure. “Princess?” She echoes, more testily than she means.

The guy clears his throat awkwardly. “Ah, I- I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, I just- I saw you weren’t looking at the pole and I-”

“You what?” Marinette pushes him just for fun, because he’s so flustered, but she can’t help but smile. The bite leaves her voice, replaced with sarcasm. She hopes he can hear that it’s friendly. “Thought you’d save the princess? Eh, superman?” The boy flushes brilliantly, scratching at his neck as he looks to the ground. “I can take care of myself. A little pole isn’t going to hurt me.” She teases. “Thanks, though. You did save me this time.”

The boy chuckles awkwardly. “Ahaha, you’re welcome! Hey, uh, my name’s Jon! I… I’m not sure how to say this, I, uh…”

Now, Marinette knows mistakes happen, but she can also read a situation. The way his cheeks stay color as he bumbles through his introduction, the way he holds his neck a bit too reverent to be sheepish, the way his eyes go wide when she calls him “Superman”.

Jon takes a deep breath, apparently composing himself. “Sorry, I… that was super awkward. Um… You called me superman. That’s, uh…” He ducks down a bit, turning so that she can see the script on the back of his neck. “My mark-name. Also, weird, but, whatever. So, I was wondering if maybe princess was yours?”

Marinette chuckles and pulls her hair aside, turning so he can see her own mark. In the same exact place. Most soul-pairs have their marks in the same place, so that makes this seem more likely. Even still, Marinette has had false alarms before. This seems more legit than any so far, but…

But the way he lights up at the sight of the mark. That stops Marinette’s breath in her lungs. “It is!” Jon cheers. “I can’t believe it! It’s really you!”

Marinette calms her heart and tries to rid her face of the damn soft look she knows she has. “Maybe.” She says. “I’ve had a close call before. This looks legit, though, so… no promises, but maybe we can… I don’t know. Get coffee or something?”

“Yes! Yeah, sure! I’m- I am so down for that!” Jon grins from ear to ear. “Get to know each other, and then decide if we want to trust the mark-names or not?”

“Exactly.” Marinette says. “If you’re okay with that?”

“A hundred percent! I totally understand being cautious. Uh, here! Let me give you my number. You can let me know when you’re free? Unless… you are now?”

Marinette ducks her head to hide from the intensity of his gaze. It’s so… adoring. Not like Chat, not in the depths of love way, or the confident way he claims her as his. It’s in an optimistic way. In a hopeful, nervous way. It makes her chest flutter, and she can’t help but hope, too. “I’m actually in the city on a class trip. We’re having free time right now, so I’ve got, uh,” she checks her phone, “a couple hours.”

“Great! I know a good place to get coffee just around the corner. And, if you want, I could show you around a bit? I know the city pretty well.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Jon guides her to the coffee shop, awkwardly drifting close but carefully keeping his hands off of her. It’s cute, watching him want to grab her hand or throw his arm over her shoulder, but Marinette appreciates that he doesn’t.

She can’t be sure from one conversation and a couple of mark-names, but Jon seems just as likely as Chat to be her soulmate. Is he? Is Chat? Marinette ducks away from his eyes again, brushing her hair behind her ear as that single glimpse makes her stomach somersault. It’s impossible to tell from this meeting alone, but if the feeling in her chest is telling her anything, it’s saying to give this a chance. Maybe that’s all she really needs.

#MaribatMarch2020 #Maribat #Maribat March #Event #Marijon #ML x DC #ML Fanfiction #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #theatreandcomicfreak im not really sure its appropriate to @ you on this #but its either that or linking to you #and linking feels like #sneaky somehow

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s-mething-mbti · 4 years ago

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Hiya! I just discovered your blog and was wondering if you could help try to type me (sorry this is pretty long)

1. I’m currently pretty torn between the intuitive introverts. I was able to narrow it down to INTJ, INFJ or INTP. I’m about 97.2% sure I use Ni. The only thing that’s giving me a bit of doubt is I find myself occasionally learning for the sake of learning which I’ve found is a traditionally Ne trait. Despite this I’m still pretty sure I use Ni as when I go down a rabbit hole and start learning for the sake of learning its always about a topic that interests me or is entertaining. I won’t waste my time learning about something I find mundane or drab. I resonate a lot with Ni’s “aha” moments where the correct answer simply pops into my head or a vision suddenly seems clear or a plot holes solution suddenly seems painstakingly obvious. I also resonate with starting out with a broader range of information/ possibilities and narrowing it down to one or two things. Another intuitive thing I highly relate to is living in the future. If almost never living in the present, and a constantly fixate on the future. I have a distinct, clear, and well thought out plan for the next 20 years (give or take).

Where I run into a bit of trouble is when I try to figure out which judging functions I predominantly use. It honestly feels like I use them all (though I know you’re only supposed to be able to use two well). For example I plan out everything, and set deadlines for myself. My desk often seems really messy to others especially when I’m doing art. This isn’t because I don’t value cleanliness, but because it simply makes more sense to keep all my art supplies out rather than having to spend at least fifteen minutes taking them out and then putting them away only to take them right back out the next day. I set goals based off of easily measurable, external things such as time, or grades. I make daily to do lists that outline everything I’ll need to do in the day, and some stuff to focus on if I have extra time. With my to do list I also plan out the approximate time each thing should take. When coming up with a scientific theory, I take others opinions/theories and test them against each other, and current scientific laws in order to formulate the most probable theory. External opinions (in a scientific/ logical manner) mean a lot to me (I don’t really care about how people that aren’t my friends think of me). To me these things seem very Te. But then I’m always smiling and am a fairly warm person. I want my friends to be happy, and I want to help others. I despise emotionally driven conflict(though I love debates), and while I’m not afraid to disrupt it if it threatens my morals/ is promoting something blatantly wrong (factually or morally) I do really harmony. These seem like pretty Fe things to me. As for Fi, I rarely share my negative emotions, preferring to deal with them predominantly alone. While I may not talk about them much I also have EXTREMELY strong morals. If something is crossing them I’m not going to simply ignore it for the sake of harmony. While I tend to be private I do try to be as authentic as possible. My morals are derived by information I’ve collected and decisions I’ve made myself, rather than being derived by ‘the groups’ collective morals if that makes sense. To me these things appear to be very Fi. As for Ti, sometimes I enjoy learning simply for the sake of learning. The knowledge may have no practical use to me but if I find it interesting or want to learn about it I can devote hours to it. I try and come to the most logical/accurate conclusion possible, and when I’m offering advice I may offer additional advice that takes different variables into account. The truth is really important to me as well.

2. Reading. I absolutely ADORE reading(specifically fantasy/sci-fi/dystopian books or research/scientific articles about topics that interest me). For reference there was a period of time when I had some free time and I was reading 2 or 3 books a day? Read maybe 50 books in the span of 20 days? But yeah I absolutely love reading. Just he way the book sucks you in and deposits you and a completely new world full of wonder and disaster and ugh it’s just magnificent. And don’t even get me started on impeccable character development and eeee. The way rereading a book feels like you’re reconnecting with an old best friend or going back to your childhood home and *sobs*. I also LOVE trying to predict plot twists and character deaths. Most of the time I can predict things correctly and idk it’s really fun to just try and figure out what’s going to happen before the big reveal. And the rush of satisfaction you get when you’ve guessed something right- it also helps me brace for character deaths (sorta. For example I knew *the* death in the final empire [by Brandon Sanderson] was coming since nearly the very beginning [I had my suspicions since the moment vin was introduced] but I still sobbed when the character died. [a tad off topic but what caused me to cry wasn’t the death itself but another characters reaction to it. This is often the case I find. A death of a character I love leaves me feeling empty but what typically gets me to cry is the others reactions- for thus reason funerals usually make me cry. I should also add that I only cry when I’m alone. I’ve cried around people (that aren’t my parents) a grand total of 1 time.]

Uh and daydreaming. I’m almost always daydreaming. Ie. if my brain was a search engine or whatever one tab would be reality and I would consecutively have at lest 20 other tabs open. Some of then playing videos (daydreams) others supplying music(if I’m not actively listening to real music my brain cycles through songs I have memorized. Occasionally does this with book scenes too if I’m bored [yes, I memorize some of my favourite scenes, word for word, so I can play them like a movie in my head when I, bored) others containing random info (just me thinking random stuff) etc.

3. I guess how to solve some problems? Wether it’s a math or science problem, or an argument between friends, figuring out how to solve things has always been something I’m decently good at. Math and science just. Make sense. And then with issues between people I’m good at looking at different perspectives (even ones that I don’t agree with) and playing out different scenarios/ possible outcomes of different approaches. This lets me come up with a solution that will successfully solve the problem with the least amount of negative ramifications involved

4. Hmm maybe being present? I honestly feel like life is passing me by and I’m just immobilized on the sidelines. Im so far into the future that I kinda forget to actually *live* every once in a while.

5. Honesty? Truth? Morals? These topics are all really interesting as they can be kinda subjective. The line between honesty and cruelty is so small. What is truth? Cause while yes, we have some set truths (such as the earth is orbiting the sun) so many ‘truths’ are simply subjective and completely depend on ones perspective. And morals my goodness. The stormlight archive is a really fun series that plays around with things like what is justice? And honour? I won’t get into it now but it brings up so many really interesting questions regarding morals.

6. Perspective . I think perspective is such a fascinating thing. Just. Different opinions. Seeing the world through completely different lenses. Interpreting the same thing in utterly different ways. When toying around with an idea I find it really fun to try and imagine opposing perspectives. While I can find different perspectives really interesting, they can also well... get on my nerves to say the least. Sometimes someone perspective is just? So blatantly wrong? And has absolutely no factual evidence backing it up? And part of me wants to just just scream and it would be so much easier if everyone just. Assessed the facts in front of them instead of making wild accusations or whatever without anything to support them. But yeah overall I think perspectives are really cool and they’re part of what helps to make the world diverse and life so much less interesting without different perspectives.

The future. I’ve found a bunch of my friends find thinking about the future stressful but if I’m being honest I find solace in thinking about the future. Having things planned out and knowing what I intend to do/ where I want to go takes off so much stress. I lowkey live in the future and I honestly cannot wait till it comes, and I achieve my goals. While I might be a bit scared the future excites me so much more than it’ll ever scare me.

7. Maybe add some more stuff about the judging functions and feelings and thinking etc . I absolutely adore science and math. I literally do math for fun. I’m currently aiming to get my PhD in astrophysics.

Not sure if this is relevant at all but my biggest (harmless) pet peeves are my grandmother’s door stopper (it always gets stuck in the door and then u can’t get it out and the door won’t close properly- I have an unhealthy amount of hatred for that thing AHAHJSEJKSMDJDJDJJ) and when people say some variant of “you did good”. Like nO NO YOU DID NOT DO gOoD. YOU DID W E L L (Anyways theres my little mini rant).

I’m my friend groups therapist (sorta). While I’m really not good with words and recycle the same three responses I always let everyone know that I’m here for them and they can talk to me without judgement etc. While I really don’t know what to say or do I try my best because I care about my friends and want to help them. I love them and so I want them to be able to be happy. Im always smiling (though this is more so because people don’t ask me how I’m doing when I look happy than because I’m genuinely happy. Most of the time I’m he farthest thing from that). I’m a pretty warm person who’s always happy to help, however I’m very introverted. I haven’t had a single conversation with the majority of people in my class (I’ve had a convo with maybe 5. Talk to 2 regularly. There are 26 people in my class). I never express negative emotions (with the exception of stress- I panic intensely in the 5 minutes immediately before taking a test as this helps me to completely turn off my nerves while I’m writing the exam. I may also make a joke or two about my negative emotions with close friends). I should also add that when making decisions I value logic more and think thinks through thoroughly, examining the pros and cons etc. While I take feelings and emotions into consideration when making decisions they’re more like an additional variable to consider rather than the main driving force that determines my decision. If I’m feeling really emotional and I need to make a decision I will postpone deciding until I feel more levelheaded. I’m really not impulsive in the slightest.

Thank you so much!!

INTJ

Living in the future rather than the present and your comfort in that sapce, your ability for and enjoyment of making predictions, your ability to really understand and try on different perspectives you don’t necessarily agree with, your focus on “ramifications” (aka future implications) while problem solving - this all points to high Ni.

You also show a Te preference - goals based on external metrics, to-do lists for daily tasks, logic based on the outer world (external opinion). When you said “While I take feelings and emotions into consideration when making decisions they’re more like an additional variable to consider rather than the main driving force that determines my decision” - that is a clear cut definition of Te over Fe preference.

Your tertiary Fi shows through here as well - willing to disrupt harmony if it upsets your morals, your morals being personally derived, needing to understand your emotions while alone. And lastly, your statement about “forgetting to live” from being in the future is pretty textbook inferior Se.

#ask #type me #intj #mbti #myers-briggs #Anonymous

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Marvel’s Loki Episode 5 Ending Explained: Who is the Real Villain of the MCU Series?

https://ift.tt/36oBhxO

This article contains spoilers for Loki episode 5.

Agent Mobius did say that time ran differently in the TVA but who could have imagined that the penultimate episode of Loki would arrive so quickly? Marvel’s Loki episode 5 “Journey Into Mystery” keeps up a streak of superb installments for this increasingly superb show.

In this hour, Mobius joins the side of the heroes, Judge Renslayer has some questions, and Loki and Sylvie’s relationship continues to blossom thanks to the conjuring of an uncomfortable green blanket. Equally as important, however, is that “Journey Into Mystery” raises some big questions about the ending of this show and the future of the MCU. Questions like…

What is The Void?

This episode does a pretty good job of succinctly describing what the Void is. The Void is the end of time, itself. Since the Time-Keepers are unable to completely destroy matter (Theory of Conservation of Mass and all that), they send unwanted Variants to the end of the timeline to languish or be swallowed by a hungry monster (more on him in a bit).

In Marvel Comics, The Void is something of an actual character. It is a destructive amorphous entity capable of both adopting a corporeal form and destroying the universe as we know it. During the Siege storyline, the Void even killed Loki, which then facilitated his “rebirth” as Kid Loki. See how this all starts to fit together?

What is Alioth?

In the world of Loki, Alioth is a big, hungry cloud monster that prowls the Void looking to consume yummy matter. It’s the TVA’s unwitting cleaning service, wiping out all the Variants that the TVA can’t eliminate. Classic Loki helpfully offers up the analogy that the Void is a shark tank, and Alioth is the shark.

Alioth of the comics was first introduced in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective #1. That same comic also introduced Ravonna Renslayer and features Kang the Conqueror as its central villain. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together.

Alioth is considered to be the first being that broke free from the constraints of time. It’s no wonder then that it would make an appearance in Loki.

What’s Up With That Castle?

It’s about time a Marvel villain lives in an honest-to-goodness castle! While it’s still possible that this is a misdirect and this environment is not what it seems, for now it looks like episode 6 will be headed off to a spooky castle.

Interestingly, there are no shortages of spooky castles in Marvel comics lore. Perhaps the most famous one is Castle Doom within Doomstadt. Bet you’ll never guess who lives there! Yes, it’s ol’ Victor von Doom himself, Doctor Doom to his friends…of which he has very few.

Another notable abode is Castle Limbo, which serves as the home of Immortus, who was once Nathaniel Richards a.k.a. Kang the Conqueror. Look, Kang is a confusing character, so you’ll just have to trust us on this one.

What is Mobius’s Plan?

Thank the gods that Loki and Mobius finally embraced their destiny as best bros. Mobius leaves all the Lokis behind in The Void to return to the TVA. What does he plan to do once he gets there? Why, burn the whole thing down, of course!

It’s unclear how Mobius believes he’s able to pull off such a grand task. The TVA is an enormous bureaucracy with seemingly infinite moving parts. The only real weapon that Mobius has at his disposal is the truth. The truth changed his and Hunter B-15’s perspectives but can it do the same for everyone else? The only other named TVA employee that we’re aware of is Casey (Eugene Cordero). He seems like a sweet, non-confrontational lad. But perhaps that will all change once he realizes he’s been robbed of fish dinners his whole life.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

What Becomes of the Other Lokis?

The most pleasantly strange aspect of “Journey Into Mystery” is how many new Lokis it introduces. This hour features: Classic Loki (Richard E. Grant), Boastful Loki (DeObia Oparei), Kid Loki (Jack Veal), President Loki (Hiddleston), and Alligator Loki (uh… a CGI alligator). Naturally, each of those Lokis has their own official hashtag sprite on Twitter.

Fittingly for their chaotic energy, each of the Lokis introduced in this episode have quite different ultimate fates. Boastful Loki betrays his Loki comrades, because that’s just what Lokis do. The subsequent scene of President Loki and his Void army battling the other Lokis is one of the best moments of this show yet. That causes our Loki to take off with Classic, Kid, and Alligator. When Mobius invites that trio to come back to the TVA with him, they decline because the Void is their home now.

Sylvie is the Secret Heart of Marvel’s Loki

By Lacy Baugher

Games

How Loki and Fallout Use Retrofuturism to Unnerve Us

By Matthew Byrd

That is the last we’ve seen of Kid Loki and Alligator Loki thus far but not the last of Classic Loki. The comic-accurate trickster returns to help Loki and Sylvie when they need it the most. He uses stunningly powerful magic to create an approximation of Asgard all around him, distracting the ravenous Alioth. Even Sylvie with her enchantress power is stunned by Classic Loki’s abilities.

Is Richard E. Grant’s Classic Loki Really Dead?

Ultimately Classic Loki is swallowed up by the Alioth and therefore finally blinked out of existence. Or is he? It seems like he could have been utilizing the very same technique here he claims to have used to escape his death at the hands of Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War. “I think we’re stronger than we realize,” Loki tells Sylvie, so this would certainly be a case of that if it came down to it.

Plus, that leads us to the final and most important question that this episode raises.

Who is the Villain?

Who indeed? There has been one name bandied about as the most likely Loki Big Bad. Before we get to him (and it’s absolutely who you think), indulge us in another theory. What if the villain of Loki is…

Classic Loki or Another Loki Variant

Richard E. Grant is kind of a big deal as an actor. It’s not every day you can find a seasoned performer who can portray a kindly exterior with some menace underneath. With that in mind, it’s possible that Classic Loki is a bigger character than he appears at first glance. This episode goes out of its way to communicate just how powerful Lokis can be. And when you combine that kind of god-like power with a trickster’s sensibility, it’s not hard to imagine that Classic Loki, or another Loki entirely, could be pulling all the strings.

Kang the Conqueror

While Loki confronting himself in the end would make for a dramatically interesting enterprise, the hard evidence at hand still seems to indicate that Kang the Conqueror is our real villain. The internet at large has been banging the drum for Kang the Conqueror as the ultimate Loki villain for weeks now and it’s not hard to see why.

This isn’t a case of collective delusion like with all of the Nightmare/Mephisto WandaVision theorizing, Kang really does seem to be a legitimate possibility. For starters, we know we already have an MCU actor for Kang in the fold already in the form of Jonathan Majors (Lovecraft Country). Kang was announced for Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania but doesn’t it sound very Marvel for the character to make his unexpected debut here?

In the comics, Kang the Conqueror is wrapped up in multiverses, timelines, and all manner of heady sci-fi nonsense that Loki is already invested in. In fact, as Reddit user u/Hpotter821 points out, one iteration of Kang in Marvel comics sought to become Immortus by eliminating all of his other Variants. It would seem that creating the TVA to police other timelines would be quite useful in that mission.

Then there’s the fact that Kang has at least some level of crossover with just about every major character and element of Loki. Kang has a relationship with Ravonna Renslayer in the comics and is also an occasional rival of Alioth. The show is not shy about injecting Kang’s aesthetic into the proceedings. While ostensibly space lizards as Loki described them, the Time-Keepers do appear to resemble the classic Kang the Conqueror look a bit. And the TVA logo?

Oh. Hey. I just noticed that the centerpiece of the Time Variance Authority’s seal totally looks like Kang’s head. 🤷‍♂️ #Loki pic.twitter.com/93QzNDVSbi

— Ken Plume (@KenPlume) July 2, 2021

Oh yeah, that’s Kang, baby.

Perhaps by this time next week, all of this Kang conjecture will look as silly as WandaVision’s Mephisto fever dream. It’s undeniable, however, that Loki has provided us with plenty of breadcrumbs. If it’s all a Kang-sized red herring, then so be it.

Doctor Doom

This is a considerable longshot, despite the fact that we’ve wanted it to happen for a long time. Doom was at the center of Marvel Comics’ multiverse-shattering Secret Wars event by Jonathan Hickman and Esad Ribic, and the castle we see in this episode’s conclusion sure does look an awful lot like his humble Doomstadt home.

Every time we get excited about Doctor Doom or the potential Secret Wars threads embedded in this show, we’re brought back to reality by the fact that there’s virtually no way that Marvel would introduce arguably their greatest villain in a teasing series finale episode, especially not when they’ve got the Kang-centric Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania to tee up with Kang. Yes, we’re hedging our best by including him, but can you blame us?

Anyway, patience, Doom fans. The Fantastic Four movie is finally a priority for the MCU, and we should see that by 2023.

Kevin Feige

This obviously won’t happen but in the spirit of Marvel’s next Disney+ series What If…?, what if Loki and Sylvie arrive to the throne room in the castle and Marvel Studios head Kevin Heige is hanging out there wearing one of his trademark baseball caps? As witnessed in WandaVision and now Loki, this phase of Marvel cinematic storytelling is clearly about setting up a new multiverse of possibilities. What better way to introduce that multiverse than by completely breaking the fourth wall?

OK, so there are probably a ton of better ways but Feige would at least be fun and truly unexpected.

The post Marvel’s Loki Episode 5 Ending Explained: Who is the Real Villain of the MCU Series? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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screamhole · 4 years ago

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MY DATE WITH DEATH: A TRUE MEMORY & STORY

Did I ever tell you about my date with Death? Well, it’s a pretty horrible day where I’m at, so what better way to kill it than by spinning up one of my famous stories? And let me tell you, this one spins like a Beyblade in Hell on acid!

Folks, let me tell you about the time I died, and all the fun I had along the way.

It all started in the bathroom, as so many classics do. I was brushing my teeth in the shower, as I am wont to do (note to reader: this means ‘as I want to do’; it looks dumb written out, but it’s actually smart as hell). Shower-brushing is a small time-saving trick of mine, which I never fail to apply on the daily. This day was no exception. I was all over those holy molars of mine when suddenly, I lost my footing on a bar of soap that I stand on (another of my time-saving manoeuvres) and I came tumbling down onto the slip mat. Slip is right, I thought, and would have made a note of that zinger had the toothbrush not become stuck in my windpipe. Choking, as I recall, I scrambled out of the tub and, knowing the house was empty because my wife Angie was at work, I rushed over to the neighbours’ apartment. Maybe they had air at their place, I thought. Sadly, I wasn’t quick enough; I was inches from their door when my body just couldn’t go anymore, and I collapsed on the landing floor. Luckily, I wasn’t naked; I had paused on the way to put on several pairs of pants.

So that was it. Dead. Me. Me = Dead. Except it wasn’t how I expected. I mean, I wasn’t seeing all-nothing, or even all-black. In fact, I got up and saw myself, lying there, all-dead-and-all-soapy. “Ghost!”, I said. And I was right. I was a ghost. A ghost who got to hang around and see it all, as it unfolded over the next few hours: the neighbours finding me, the two police officers standing over my stiff, sud-ridden corpse. “What do you think, Sarge?” said the young one. “Another shower-sex hallway suicide?” “Don’t be stupid, kid” said the sergeant. “This guy’s wearing pants. I think we can chalk it up to a classic toothbrush-in-the-neck life hack gone wrong.” “Good think I put on all those pants” I quipped, realising immediately that it was pointless because they couldn’t hear me. They couldn’t hear me! Damn, that was the deal, wasn’t it? You have to get all of the talking out of the way while you’re livin’. But there was so much I still needed to say about dyin’! This chin could be wagging forever, let me tell you. That’s some deal, huh? The one thing we all want to know about and here I am in the middle of it, with lips too stiff and dead to flap about it. How’s that for ass blastwards? So there I was, with a hell of a story to tell. And I knew there was only one person I’d be able to tell it to.

Whoopi Goldberg.

My grandma was dead. Is dead. She was dead, and now she is dead... again. Am I making sense here? She told me about the first time she died, back in the 90s. She was sucking on a Werther’s Original when it went down the wrong way and got stuck in her toaster and burned her house down. Lying on that hospital bed, she was legally dead for a good 27 minutes before they realised and resuscitated her (I think they were too busy watching some dumb Patrick Swayze movie on the communal television to notice). Thinking back, we all felt like she had gone crazy while she was dead, but now it seems there might have been some true-speak in all that wack-talk of hers. “If you ever die,” she once said to me as a kid, “If you die and you have to say something to a loved one, go to Whoopi Goldberg. I saw it. She helped me tell your grandfather he had soup on his good pants in the hospital, it was driving me crazy and was probably what set me off dying in the first place. I know it will work, son. If you need her, she’ll be there for you”. With those words in my ear, I packed a bag and headed out in search of Whoopi.

I made it to the airport, and was having trouble scanning my passport with no corporeal form, when out of nowhere the whole room grew dim. People froze in motion, and there was an icy chill which took over the whole space. And then, a small light, like from the end of a tunnel, grew from behind the baggage claim. A screeching whistle came with it, before a train of bones roared past my face. The brakes braked, and as the bones ground to a halt out stepped a cloaked figure from the carriage.

“Hello” he said. “You’re dead”.

“I’m dead?” I asked.

“You’re dead” he said. “And I’m Death.”

“You’re dead too?” I asked.

“That’s right, I am Death” he said.

“Me too” I said.

“I doubt it, kid” he said. “Anyway, sorry I’m late. There was some protest at Limbo station. All the staff walked out right after this demon... you know what? Not important. What is important is that you kicked your bucket. So hop on in, pup, next stop is your new forever home: Hell. OH. OH! That is, unless you want to play chess?”

I turned away from the stranger. “Sorry, I don’t play that game… not anymore, that is.” I was kind of hoping that he would dig into my deep dark past relationship with the game of kings.

“Suit yourself, friend” said Death. “Half the pieces are missing anyway. The one chess set on this hell train, you think these devil freaks are gonna put it back neatly? Fat chance. Anyhoodle, let’s get moving, up you come”.

“I’m really going to Hell?”

“Yeah” said Death. “Frickin’ Hell City, USA. And unless you wanna effin’ play chess, kid, I don’t wanna hear any more fuckin’ back talk. Hop the eff on”.

I couldn’t believe it. I had to escape; to re-live, and tell the tale of what death is like, and also what Death is like (note: make clear very handsome in second draft). A plan formed in my head, just like the plan to do a checkmate on the other guy forms in the head of a grand master chess player. “Oh, but Death,” I said “I really do want to play, but like you said we can’t play on that old set. It has no bishops”. “That’s how we like it in Hell,” said Death, “it’s really more of a drinking game. Anyway, I take your point, kid; this chess board sucks. But where do you suggest we find a decent travel chess set at this hour, in this realm of existence? You got one in your great coat?”

“No” I said. “But I think I have an idea. Let’s make a stop in… New York (maybe?)”

Luckily, my plan worked out. I had managed to guess Whoopi Goldberg’s exact location: a Starbucks on 6th Avenue (note: check real place). I had also tricked Death into taking us there on the promise there’d be chess, and also he wanted a coffee. The train of bones crunched through the coffee shop window, shattering the glass and grinding the tables beneath it. Thankfully, this all played out in the dead dimension so it was totally fine. No one noticed. No one, that is, except Whoopi.

“What the hell?!” she cried, jumping back from her table.

“Whoopi,” I said climbing down, from the bone train, “you’ve got to help me. I’m dead and I know for an absolute fact you can send messages to the living.”

“Oh I get it,” said Whoopi, “you think just because I played a medium in that movie that I can really talk to dead people?”

“Listen Whoopi, I’ve never even seen Sister Act, so please don’t assume I would be so irrational and quick to judge people like that. Instead of accusing me of stuff, how about you accept that you’re talking to a real ghost right now, and so therefore I am right.”

“Oh my God” said Whoopi. “I guess I can speak to ghosts. I guess all my years on The View have made me capable of speaking to anyone”.

“Yeah: you, Jimmy Kimmel, Graham Norton… all supremely cursed folks. Talk-show hosting is a real double-edged sword. Back to me, though. Whoopi: can you call my wife and tell her I loved her? Oh, and also I won’t be able to make it to our Saturday UNO game for obvious reasons. Oh, oh, and that the obvious reasons are that I’m going to Hell on the bone train with Death. Sorry, so much has happened today, I forget to bring people up to speed.”

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice” said Whoopi. She closed her script for Sister Act 3 and opened up Skype, making a call to the account details I gave her. The little jingle played before a familiar voice answered.

“Angie?” said Whoopi. “This is Whoopi Goldberg”

“And?” said my wife.

“Angie, I’m calling on behalf of your departed husband.”

“Oh my god,” Angie said. “What has he done now?”

“He’s dead, actually,” explained Whoopi, “choked on a toothbrush before you got home. The police must have taken him away but stopped for lunch, so they’ve not gotten a chance to let you know about it. He wants you to know that he loves you, Angie. You were the best thing in his life. Doesn’t sound like tough competition for a man who loved toothbrushes and chess, but all the same, he wanted you to know.”

“Cool, good to know” said Angie. “Hey, one second: does this mean that he’s talking with you right now?”

“Yeah,” said Whoopi “his spirit is here. Right now he’s looking at his hair in the window, even though he’s literally invisible.”

“Well, if he’s really there,” said Angie, “I’ll ask him something only he would know and that will prove ghosts are real. What’s my favourite colour?” “Shit…” I said. “Uh, I dunno, green maybe”.

“Uh, I dunno, green maybe” said Whoopi.

“Wow, that’s spooky”, said Angie. “It’s actually purple, but that idiot always thinks it’s green. He even painted the house green for our anniversary. What a dunce. Ok, cool, tell him no worries. If he can make it home tonight for UNO, great, but I’ll not be holding my breath.”

“Don’t worry, my wife,” I said. I have a plan”

“Don’t worry, his wife, he has a plan,” said Whoopi.

“I’ll definitely not wait up then. Thanks Whoopi. We loved you in Sister Act by the way” said Angie, and hung up.

“Ah, guess I have seen it,” I told Whoopi. “Well, thanks for your help. I guess there’s only one option left: I’m gonna have to kidnap and murder Death”.

“Why don’t you just beat him at chess and win your life back, like in that movie?” asked Whoopi.

“For the last time, Whoopi, I don’t remember Sister Act at all!” I said. “More to the point, I don’t play chess. Not after… that night.” I was kind of really hoping someone was gonna ask about the deep dark past thing. It’s not often I get to tell these stories.

“Suit yourself, kid” said Whoopi. “I guess you’re going to Hell, then”.

The bone train door slammed open.

“Ok kid,” said Death, “it’s been 50 minutes now. Do they have my mocha frapp or what? Are we gonna play chess now, or what? Honestly? I kind of feel like you’re using me for some kind of plot thing that’s going on for too long, and I just want to play some games to take my mind off the fact that my job sucks forever. You + Me = Hell, RIGHT NOW.”

Think fast, I thought, at a normal thought-speed. Suddenly, it hit me.

“Alright, Death. Time to play, for my very soul.”

“Sweet,” said Death.

“But not at chess.”

“Ah, Jeez!” Death groaned.

“No, I could never play chess again. It’s actually a really cool and dark story that I haven’t had a chance to tell, but maybe I could tell it if…” “Yeah, yeah, what’s the game, kid?” said Death, doing the wrap-up-the-story hand gesture with his bone-fingers.

I pulled a pack of cards from my great coat pocket (as in, the coat pocket is really great, it’s just a regular modern fashionable coat).

“UNO?!” cried Death. “Kid, you really are going to Hell.”

“Not if I can help it,” I said. “I was taught by the best: my wife. She made me the player I am today. And she takes no prisoners. So yes, Death. I’d wager my life on the back of her teaching”.

Death pulled up a table, and leaned his scythe against the coat rack.

“Whatever, dude. Just deal ‘em out.”

I played Death best of three. Best of three is right, I thought. More like the best three games of my life, let me tell you. They had to be, given what was at stake. We tied one-to-one. Death learned the game so fast, and he was soon a worthy competitor. It was down to the knuckle, which was unfair given his were so much more visible. We were down to two cards each, and it was his turn. I had to pull it out, but these last two cards were the worst I could have had. He slammed down a green 3.

“This is it, kid. This next card’s a ticket to Satan’s ass. STANDARD CLASS.”

I flipped a yellow 3.

“UNO,” I declared, “and guess what, Death? You were so busy sassing me, you forgot to say UNO yourself, so you have to PICK UP.”

Death shuddered realising his mistake.

“What?! No!” he cried. “Ah, fuck this game! Why couldn’t we have played Demon Party Drunk Chess anyway. Oh my god, these cards suuuuuck!”

The last card was one of those wild cards you can write on. “I’m done, Death. And my custom rule is that you have to give me my soul and my life back.”

“The game’s over kid. Also, I don’t think that’s a real rule you can make anyway. But a bet is a bet.” He waved his hand, doing cool Death magic or something. “Now get back to living before I do something I regret”.

I felt my spirit form fading as I regained my life inside my body. It looked kind of like that scene with Marty McFly in Back To The Future where he’s almost erased from existence.

“Wow,” I said. “This is just like that movie”.

“Yep.” said Death, walking away sulkily. “Just like Sister Act.”

“Thanks for everything” I said. “So long.”

“You know, it is a shame. I would have liked to play with you again. But I don’t have friends much anymore. Things have been a little tough since the whole… incident.”

“Suit yourself, kid" I said, vanishing into the air.

“Oh well I guess I could stop by now that you mention it, ok thanks, see you and your wife tonight at 8??”

Damn, I thought. My body had left that realm, but his words followed me. I guess it wouldn’t be the worst date I had in my life! I thought (man I gotta write these zingers down). “See you then, Death” I whispered, my voice going all ethereal. “See you then.”

I woke up in the ground, soil trickling onto a cheap coffin the cops had stuffed me in. Weeping, some folks were throwing handfulls of dirt into the hole where I was lying. I didn’t recognise them, I think they just wanted a day out at the graves. I bust through the lid of that thing like it was cardboard, and climbed out. “Come on guys” I said, pushing off the coffin lid. “You gotta throw more dirt on than that, I haven’t got all day. If you give me a shovel I’ll get it done much faster.” And I did. And when I was done filling my own grave, I walked home, knocked on my door, and was met by my beautiful Angie. “Boy, did I miss you” I said, shaking her hand in a friendly manner.

“You have soap in your hair” she said.

“I know. And soil in my shoes babe, it’s a weird combination. But there’s also love in my heart. And if you’ll have me, I am ready for UNO. Speaking of which, I may have invited a friend along…”

So there you have it. That’s how me and my wife Angie got ourselves a weekly dinner date with Death, of underworld fame. And you know what? It’s a lot of fun having him round. It can be hard to make friends as a couple, and he’s a good guy. Even though I sometimes worry a little too much about our fate beyond this lifetime, every time I hear that screechin’ bone-train a-comin’, I smile knowing it will all be ok. In fact, I think I hear it coming now…

…ok never mind, it was just my wife screamin’ at me again.

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paulisweeabootrash · 4 years ago

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2020 mini-review pack

Di Gi Charat (1999)

Episodes watched: 7

Platform: VRV (Hidive)

Di Gi Charat (pronounced like “carrot”) is a series of fast-paced 4-ish-minute shorts nominally about Dejiko and Rabi-en-Rose, rivals trying to be Earth’s greatest idol. Who are, respectively, a catgirl and a bunnygirl. Oh, and also they’re aliens? That’s... uh... certainly a premise, I guess. The actual show consists of self-contained gag-filled episodes with no ongoing story, in almost a sitcom kind of way, throwing the characters into situations without context, but with a stable “baseline” situation (unlike, say, Pop Team Epic, where the characters serve more as stock personalities playing different roles in different sketches). Dejiko is a snarky schemer. Rabi-en-Rose is a snarky schemer whose main activity seems to be bothering Dejiko at work. Puchiko is a small and quiet child and behaves accordingly. And Gema is... something? I have no clue, honestly, and neither does the fan wiki. Other recurring characters fill stock roles such as “manager” and “otaku”. A lot of the humor centers around poking fun at fandom. It’s a show by, for, and about otaku from an era before our current internet culture, and since I’m a millennial and not from Japan, that makes it unusually hard to evaluate.

W/A/S: 8/2?/5?

Weeb: Chibis. Catgirls. Idols. Kappas. Kawaii verbal tics. Akihabara. Low-detail background characters who look like blobs or thumbs with faces. Kanji left on-screen but untranslated. Particular sorts of highly-exaggerated facial expressions we may have become familiar with through emoji, but which still haven’t made their way into American media generally. This is ludicrously Japanese.

Ass: This really isn't that kind of show. Although it is certainly designed for adults, as evidenced by the presence of phrases like “naughty doujinshi”.

Shit: The art is fun. It has style shifts from comic strip to watercolor painting to mainstream 90s anime, and looks better than some of its contemporaries that were, uh, “real” shows. The opening takes up about a quarter of the total runtime and gets annoying quickly (but that's because it’s clearly designed for being part of a broadcast block, not binge-watching). Still, unless I’m missing hidden cleverness on account of not having the background knowledge, there’s not much to it. It’s just okay.

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First Astronomical Velocity (band, active 2011-present)

Platform: Spotify, surprisingly

Okay, this one is a bit different, and I’m jettisoning the whole format for it. Remember how I said the music-centered episodes of SoniAni were actually pretty good, even though the modeling-centered episodes were so offputting I never finished the show? Well it turns out that First Astronomical Velocity, Sonico’s band, has released several IRL albums. Physical copies may be a little hard to come by, but official uploads of a lot of their music can be found on Youtube and Spotify. Do your musical interests include at least two of: string arrangements that would be at home in a particularly sappy movie soundtrack, 90s-00s alternative rock, synthesizer beep-boops, and that constricted cutesy Japanese women’s vocal style (you know the one I mean)? Then this is for you. They’re a pretty good... uh... alt-pop-rock band, I guess is what I’d call them.

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Interspecies Reviewers (2020)

Episodes watched: the entire 12-episode season

Platform: I plead the 5th. But it’s getting a video release soon, so it will finally be legitimately available in English!

I started this year with a plot-light fanservicey animal-people show, and now I’m ending the year with... a plot-light fanservicey animal-people show. But unlike Nekopara, this show had me cracking up, eagerly clicking “next episode”, and not complaining about the premise. I’m sure a lot of people do have a problem with this show’s premise -- which centers almost entirely on various forms of sex work -- and I understand and respect that they will want to skip this show.

But for the rest of you: Interspecies Reviewers is a wildly-NSFW comedy about a group of fantasy world adventurers who gain fame and fortune reviewing brothels of different species. I expected excessive nudity and fantasy tropes, but I didn’t expect to also get serious thoughts. Like showing, in the golem and Magic Metropolis episodes, some of the unsettling problems that are looming IRL as deepfakes and sex robots are in development -- note especially the contrast between consensually and non-consensually basing automata on real people in those episodes. Or the discussion in the last episode of how much riskier sex would be in a world without magic (i.e., ours). This is a much smarter and more interesting show than you’d expect, considering that it has so much sexual content that it got dropped by two of the networks airing it and even its US distributor.

W/A/S: 5/10/4

Weeb: Although heavily influenced by the Western fantasy media canon of European mythology and Tolkien and tabletop RPGs, familiarity with the tropes of fantasy anime will help you “get” this too, as will familiarity with the -sigh- character dynamics and censorship practices of hentai. Especially because it’s a comedy, there are probably also instances where I have completely missed topical references or wordplay that a Japanese person would get, but I can’t think of any specific instances right now of “there was clearly supposed to be a joke but I missed it”.

Ass: Look, this could not possibly have more sexual content without unambiguously becoming porn. Genitals are (almost) always carefully hidden by viewing angle or conveniently-placed glowing (something lampshaded in one episode as an actual feature of one of the species they review), but otherwise, expect lots of nudity and almost nonstop crude humor. Do not watch this with children. Do not watch this with your parents. Do not watch this with friends you don’t know well enough to know how they’ll react to something like this.

Shit: This show is better-made than it deserves to be. It’s pretty dumb at points, but it’s fun enough to make up for it. The art is consistent and pleasant, and the opening and ending themes are extremely fun, but it’s not a serious standout in any of those departments. Also, I swear the background music is stock music, but I don’t remember what other show(s) I’ve heard it in before.

Stray thought: Crim is a precious and relatable cinnamon roll and I love them.

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OreSuki OVA (2020)

Platform: Crunchyroll

So, I know I didn’t cover the whole season in my initial review, but I still want to mention the hour-ish-long finale of this show, which was released straight to streaming. Short version of the rest of the season: Joro starts to actually fall for Pansy, but a new challenger, Hose, appears. He is irritatingly attractive and effortless at maintaining the right persona for the situation, leading Joro to describe him as “the main character”. Hose is the sociopathic manipulator Joro wishes he could be, and Pansy, who has a bad past with him, clearly wants nothing more than for Joro to stand up to him. But, since this is OreSuki, it’s not going to be handled simply. No, instead, strap in for a grand finale of Joro and Hose competing in, and trying to manipulate through rules-lawyering, an absolutely ludicrous competition to win the right to date Pansy. And, on top of it, we also get to finally see how Sun-chan got to be the way he is and what happened at that pivotal baseball game that set off the whole plot. What has Joro learned from the experiences of the past season? You’ll see! And you’ll facepalm about it!

Really, you must watch this if you watched the regular season.

W/A/S: 6/5(!)/4ish

Weeb: Basically the same as I said before. Gags referencing other Japanese media, anime and otherwise, and it's better if you’re familiar with the high school romcoms and harem comedies Joro thinks in terms of.

Ass (and slight content note): -sigh- Why does the camera need to be there? Also, Joro, you just committed a little bit of sexual assault for the sake of this contest. Stop.

Shit: I want to rate this overall better than I did the regular season because I think it’s an excellent finale overall because, even though it ends in a very “let’s leave everything unresolved” way that’s common in media that rely on absurd relationships to propel the plot, it does so in a way that makes sense in character. I personally think it would’ve been stronger if it had, well, confirmed its title, and at least some of the other “challengers” had lost interest in Joro, but I guess they probably want a Season 2, since they have so much more source material to work from. There are... oh god 14 light novels?! That is too many.

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Your Name. (2016)

Platform: DVD

Two high schoolers -- small-town girl Mitsuha, from Itomori, and big-city boy Taki, from Tokyo -- find themselves in each other’s bodies for a day. They both think at first it must be a very vivid dream, but when it happens again, and they start finding clues like notes they don’t remember writing and comments by friends and relatives about their out-of-character behavior, they realize the body swap is real. This begins a relationship of mutual understanding that nobody else can really understand -- or would even believe (except Mitsuha’s grandmother, who is... familiar with this phenomenon) -- and the plot then pivots to a tense adventure where they use their connection, some crucial information Taki has, the skills of Mitsuha’s friends, and the intervention of Itomori’s patron deity, to save the town from an impending disaster.

And that’s all I’ll say about that, because I really do think this is something you should go into blind. My only remaining comments are that (1) the red string of fate is critically important imagery, and is particularly interesting to me here because, if I took a particular scene correctly, Mitsuha made her own red string of fate from sheer necessity, which is a very different twist on that trope, and (2) I am now curious about the history of the body-swapping phenomenon in-universe.

W/A/S: 4?/2/2

Weeb: As mentioned above, symbolism of the Red String of Fate shows up throughout the movie, as do the occasional distinctly Japanese quirk like a wildly out-of-place vending machine or a café with dogs, and but for the most part it’s a cross-cultural story of understanding and dealing with someone else’s life, and of forming a connection other people don’t -- can’t -- truly understand, and to some extent of divides between urban and rural and modern and traditional that I think could play out in any country with just the local symbolism tweaked. The significance and content of Shinto beliefs and practices depicted, particularly kuchikamizake, are made pretty explicit, so although foreign to the vast majority of the non-Japanese audience, I feel like this movie also has nearly no barrier to entry for people not familiar with the cultural context, so I don’t want to rate it very high on this scale.

Ass: Look. It involves teenagers switching bodies. What do you think they do? Especially Taki? But it’s played for laughs, not titillation.

Shit: This movie is beautiful and punched me in the feels and was very satisfying. The closest I have to a complaint about any aspect of it is that the musical breaks that I guess are supposed to mark acts of the movie almost make it feel like binge-watching a short series instead of watching a single self-contained movie.

#weeaboo trash #anime review #mini-reviews #happy new year #di gi charat #first astronomical velocity #super sonico #interspecies reviewers #oresuki #Are You Really the Only One Who Likes Me?#your name

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ultrafangirlishness · 5 years ago

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Alone On Christmas (Part 1)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Synopsis: Deceit hates Christmas, especially now that it’s without Virgil— his first Christmas alone. Or so he thought.

Word count: 2,808

Pairings: None romantic, all platonic

Warnings: slight Deceit angst (some anxious and insecure thoughts), sympathetic Deceit, minor arguing/tension, Christmas themes, lots of fluff, fluff ending

A/N: Hey everyone, this is my FIRST FIC EVER, inspired by this post by @max-the-queer. I had a lot of fun with this and am excited to present this totally self-indulgent fic. Unfortunately I forgot about Tumblr’s textbox limit, so I had to split it up. Feedback is welcome and greatly appreciated! (Also note this is pre-Remus). Happy Holidays, everyone!

Other parts here: 1 | 2 | 3

Special thanks to @sparkleydoggy-main for editing.

(I actually didn’t intend this at all, but this ended up being my 600th post! Yay!)

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Deceit pulled his cape tighter as the first couple snowflakes began to fall. All around him the town was aglow in stringed lights, the last few porch lights slowly being turned out one by one. It was 8:25 PM; just a couple hours until Christmas. Right about now, households would be tucking in for the night. Parents would be finishing the last of the wrapping, making food preparations, or kissing their children goodnight. Trees shone brightly through windows. As the snow fell harder, the atmosphere grew eerily silent, the only sound being the crunching of snow under Deceit’s feet.

Deceit hated the winter. More specifically, he hated Christmas.

Not just because of the cold, or the annoying music that always got stuck in his head. It wasn’t because of the brightly colored decorations and lights that hurt his eyes, or even just because of the obnoxiously cheery “Christmas spirit” everyone claimed to be in the air. Those were awful too. What he hated above all else, something he would never admit aloud, was that for Deceit, Christmas time was lonely.

Ever since Virgil left him for the other sides, Deceit had been an absolute outcast. A complete loner. He and Virgil would always make fun of the cheesy decorations, the ridiculous songs, and watch Halloween movies just to spite everyone. At least in previous years he could be lonely with someone— with Virgil. Now here he was, left to suffer alone in his least favorite time of year.

Deceit continued walking through the streets, hoping not to run into anyone. Maybe he could find a nearby café and wait out this storm…

He didn’t have to walk too far before Deceit became lost in thought. This would be his first Christmas without Virgil, without anyone in… how long? He couldn’t recall. Deceit supposed this was probably how Christmas would be from now on. Wandering the streets without purpose, nowhere to go, hoping he could find something to pass the time. Get over yourself, he said in his mind. If this is the way it’s going to be, you might as well get used to it.

Deceit was nearly to the late-night café he’d spotted earlier when he was pulled from his thoughts. From the house directly to his right came the creaking of an opening door. Golden light flooded the streets. Standing there in the doorway was a silhouetted figure.

“Deceit?” it called out.

After a few moments, his eyes adjusted to the new source of light and Deceit was able to make out the figure’s features. A man, most likely in his late twenties to early thirties, wearing a thick pair of black glasses and a sweater that read “Meowy Christmas” over a knitted cat pattern.

“Patton.”

Deceit had completely forgotten he lived in this area of town.

“What are you doing out here?” Patton gestured to the snow. “It’s freezing! I thought you hated the cold?”

“I do,” he said in a matter-of-fact sort of way, hoping Patton wouldn’t noticing him shivering underneath all the layers.

Something changed in Patton’s expression. Sympathy? Pity?

“How are the others?” Deceit asked automatically, attempting to change the subject. He couldn’t help but cringe at the word “others”. He had a feeling they both knew who he was referring to.

“Oh! He's— they’re, they’re great. You know how it is,” he laughed nervously, “always arguing. But you gotta love ‘em.”

Deceit only nodded, fresh out of conversation filler.

The two men stood there, now wordless, no more than a few paces apart. With the door wide open, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted outside. Deceit could hear the faintest tune of Jingle Bell Rock coming from inside the house, followed by boisterous laughter. A familiar sinking feeling began creeping into his gut. When the silence between the two finally grew unbearable, Deceit cleared his throat.

“Well, if there’s nothing else you require of me, I hope you’ll excuse me,” he said with a polite nod, stepping away.

“Wait!”

Deceit paused and looked back at Patton, who wore a frantic expression. Patton flushed and, when it was clear he had the snake’s attention, looked down at his feet.

“No one should be alone on Christmas,” he muttered softly, just loud enough to hear.

This took Deceit by surprise. Out of anyone, Patton was worried about his well-being?

“Are you… inviting me in?” he asked.

“Yes?” Patton responded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I know you and the others haven’t always seen eye-to-eye.” Deceit scoffed at that. “But… It’s Christmas eve. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?”

“Patton, I appreciate the gesture, but why do you care? I mean, why are you doing this?” Was it possible Patton or the others actually missed him, or was this all coming from guilt? There was obviously some sort of hidden motive behind it. Some sort of trick. If he really cared, he would’ve invited him in a long time ago.

Patton’s expression just softened. “I want you to have just as good a Christmas as any. That’s not going to happen with you walking around out here all alone.”

Deceit looked away. He had a point.

“Besides, it’s only for a little bit.”

Deceit’s mind began to race, trying to think of all the ways it could possibly be a trick. Surely he wasn’t actually letting him into their lives, surely he didn’t actually care… and what about Virgil? What would he think? He would probably only try to make things miserable for Deceit. On the other hand, this was a chance to... what? Get back at him? It’d at least make him uncomfortable, no doubt. If Deceit ended up going through with all of this just to spite Virgil, well, he supposed he could live with that.

“So… what do you say?” Patton said, trying to conceal a hopeful smile. “You can come back later tonight when we’re ready, say, around nine? It’ll give me a chance to talk to the others.”

Deceit glanced at the time; that would give him less than half an hour.

“C’mon, join us,” he encouraged. “Just this once? It’ll be like old times! In the spirit of Christmas?”

Deceit knew that in fact it wouldn’t be like old times, but he decided not to say that. He mustered the last bit of courage he had left to look back up into Patton’s kind eyes. “Alright.”

•••

“Guys, come on! It’s Christmas!”

Patton, Logan, Roman and Virgil were sat comfortably around the table, enjoying a Christmas Eve dinner together.

“Pat, you can’t be serious,” Virgil said from across the table, arms crossed. “You know I try to humor your ideas, but this? Absolutely not.”

Before Patton could give him one of his “injured puppy” looks, as the group liked to refer to it as, Virgil cut in again. “Come on, Roman, this is crazy, right?” He gestured desperately at the prince, who tensed.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I’m actually with Patton here. I think it’s a good idea.” Roman felt a little uneasy, but the look Patton gave him made up for it.

“Not you, too!” Virgil threw his hands in the air, exasperated.

Roman, trying his best to ignore the daggers being stared from Virgil, looked to the fourth person in the room.

“What about you, Logan? You haven’t said anything on the matter. What do you think?”

Logan, who’d been observing silently, sat up in his chair, all focus now on him. He took a moment to sip his cup of hot chocolate before speaking.

“What are the pros and cons?” he asked simply.

Virgil quickly opened his mouth to object, but Logan held up his hand for silence. Virgil reluctantly obliged and sat back in his chair with a huff.

“Calmly. What are the advantages and disadvantages of having Deceit over for Christmas?”

Virgil raised his hand in mock gesture. Logan rolled his eyes and nodded in his direction.

“I don’t know, maybe because he’s a freaking snake, the literal embodiment of lies, and can’t be trusted?”

The rest of the group fell silent at that.

“The pros are we’ll have one more person to celebrate with!” Roman jumped in with grand gestures. “The more the merrier! And maybe it’ll give you two a chance to, you know, make up?”

“Besides,” Virgil said, ignoring Roman’s last comment, “he hates Christmas. He used to always—” He stopped himself. “Look, I’m just trying to look out for you all. I don’t want anything to happen.”

“I think you’re just being selfish because you don’t want to have to deal with the confrontation. Can’t you two just grow up? It was one little argument!”

Virgil immediately stood up from his chair to face Roman, fists clenched.

“Hey, hey, let’s calm down everyone,” Patton said with a nervous laugh.

“Thank you, Roman, that is a great example of what will not help the situation,” Logan said, giving him a look.

Patton placed his hand gently on Virgil’s arm, whose angry expression softened a bit. Virgil sat back in his chair. “Why do you all want him over, anyways? You’re not exactly friends with him either.”

When no one spoke up, Patton looked down at his hands. “No one should be alone on Christmas.”

Virgil grumbled and rolled his eyes but ultimately didn’t argue.

“Come on Virge,” Patton urged, “I know you cut ties, but he’s not all bad. He is still one of us, you know.”

“He is not one of us,” Virgil muttered under his breath.

After a few moments of silence between the four, Logan spoke up again. “I’m sorry, Virgil, but it appears you’ve been out-numbered. It’s three to one.”

“That’s not three to one, you’re just the mediator!”

Logan just shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. “So are we decided then?” he asked, “Do we all agree to invite Deceit over, to all get along,” he pointed a look at Virgil, “in the spirit of Christmas?”

Patton put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “If you’re really that against it, we won’t do it. But I think it’ll be a really good thing. For all of us.” He intentionally left out the “especially for you” part.

After a long moment of silence, Virgil gave in. “Fine.”

•••

It was only two minutes past nine when the doorbell rang.

“Oh, that’s him!” Roman announced excitedly. “And barely a moment late!”

The four friends left their places on the couch to gather in the foyer. Logan reached out and opened the door. There on the doorstep stood a snowy Deceit.

“Welcome, welcome, come on in!” Patton said brightly. “Long-time-no-see, am I right?”

Deceit stepped into the house, taking in the warmth. “Hello, Patton, hello everyone, thank you for inviting me. I must admit it has been a while.”

He was surprised to feel some of the bitterness already melting away when seeing everyone together again. Deceit would never admit it, but he had missed these guys.

“Welcome, Deceit,” Logan closed the door behind him and offered a hand. “Good to see you again.”

Though his voice and expression were kept under control as per usual, Deceit could feel the warmth radiating from him. With a gloved hand he took the offer. “You as well, Logan, thank you.”

“Jack the Fibber!” Roman bounded forward and draped an arm over Deceit’s shoulder, not noticing him flinch at the touch. “My slippery scaly friend, how are you? It’s been ages!”

“Indeed it has, dear Roman.” Though he was slightly uncomfortable with the sudden contact, he couldn’t help but smile. “Indeed it has.”

That left only one person, the one who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed, avoiding eye contact. Deceit gently took Roman’s arm off his shoulder and cautiously walked forward.

“Virgil,” he said, trying his best to hold his ground. “Good to see you again.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and blew his bangs from his face, not moving from his position. “You too, or something.”

At least he couldn’t say he didn’t try.

“Well, what do we start with first?” Roman clapped his hands together excitedly as if nothing had happened. “The hot chocolate? The cookie decorating? Christmas movies? A Christmas sing-along?”

“Calm down there, kiddo,” Patton laughed, waving his hands down at Roman. “Why don’t we have Deceit decide? He’s the guest.”

The four friends look expectantly at Deceit.

“Oh. I, uh… I’ve never really done Christmas,” he said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not really my thing.” This really was a bad idea. What was he thinking? He’d never even had a real Christmas before. Still, some small part of him wanted to try.

Roman gasped, making everyone jump. “You’ve never done Christmas?” He looked downright offended. “Christmas is the grandest, happiest, most wonderful time of the year! I’m sorry, but this just won’t do. We shall see to it that you have the best, most epic Christmas of all time!”

“Yes, we shall!” Patton agreed happily.

“Mark my words, Deceit, by the end of the day tomorrow you will love Christmas,” he swore, pointing his finger.

Patton’s smile faltered, “Now, Roman, there’s no need to get competitive—"

“Starting with the basics!” Roman proceeded. “You can take the spare bedroom down the hall and to the right.”

“Oh! There’s no need for that,” Deceit replied hastily, glancing at the door, “I was just going to come back in the morning.”

“Nonsense, you must have the full experience!”

Virgil looked like he wanted to protest, but remained silent.

“But I didn’t come prepared,” he reasoned, “I don’t have my clothes, I didn’t bring gifts—”

“Not to worry, we have plenty of extra clothes you can borrow!”

“Roman, that’s… thank you.” Deceit could feel his cheeks begin to heat up from all the attention.

“Roman’s right, we have plenty of resources,” Logan chimed in. “Go ahead and make yourself right at home, Deceit. It’s getting late, and we all should be going to bed soon,”—he gave a look to Roman, Patton, and Virgil— “We can do all those activities in the morning. Feel free to shower, grab a snack, whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“But—”

“Goodnight, Deceit! See you in the morning!” Patton waved as he, Roman and Virgil headed to their respective rooms.

“Sweet dreams!” Roman called back.

Virgil just shot Deceit the best glare he could muster and followed suit.

“You know you can take your hat off, right?” he heard from behind. Deceit turned to see Logan, who hadn’t followed the others. “It won’t be snowing in here.” He was smiling slightly. Apparently he’d gained a sense of humor since they last met.

“Oh.” Deceit pulled his hat down from his head. He liked to wear it more out of comfort than for warmth or even style. It gave him a sense of security, something to hide behind. Taking it off made him feel vulnerable. Reluctantly he handed it to Logan, who brought it to the coat rack. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And Deceit?” Logan said before he could walk away. For a moment he was worried Logan was going to offer to take his cape too, but he just smiled again. “If you need anything, anything at all, just ask.”

Deceit wasn’t sure how to respond to such a generous offer, so he just nodded and headed for his room, too tired to put up a fight.

When Deceit was done showering off, he tentatively peeked into his bedroom to make sure no one was around. There he found a stack of clothes folded neatly across the bed and a steaming cup of hot chocolate left on his nightstand. He slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, grateful for the clean clothes.

Deceit wondered who’d left the hot chocolate. The most likely candidate was Patton, but he was surprised by the gesture regardless of who it had been. He took ginger sips of the chocolate as peered out the window, watching the snow continue to come down.

Why were they being so nice? For the first time in months, Deceit felt… okay. Maybe a little awkward, but if it weren’t for Patton, he very well may have still been out in that snow. He wondered if this was the way everyone felt on Christmas; warm and safe. Happy, even. A small part of him still wondered if this was all some cruel trick, some way for Virgil to get back at him, but he decided he’d let that go for now. He could deal with it in the morning.

The sweet, warm chocolate began making his limbs grow heavy, and he knew he should probably get some sleep. Tomorrow was bound to be exhausting. For now, he was just going to soak in the warmth and comfort and close his eyes.

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beesmygod · 6 years ago

Text

this is what riverdale is about (part 6)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

and now...we come to the end of our journey...the final 4 episodes of the season. who killed jason blossom? you forgot that’s what we were doing, huh. you were way too distracted by sex archie and the jughead/betty relationship (called ‘bughead’ in universe).

i have a friend who has been watching riverdale because i have basically tricked him into doing so and frankly, what i am typing here was and is only the surface of this show’s nonsense. as he watched episodes, he reminds me of all the completely bananas shit that this show throws at you literally every second it is on screen and honestly its a relief to know that, as much as i can try to just give you some basic facts, watching the show itself is still a totally different transcendent experience. its really the only show of its kind; shamelessly stupid but unaware of it while openly delighting in all the silliest cliches presented as straight faced as possible. if these write up do anything for you at all, please, please. watch the show. you will be shocked at how much more there is to discover.

images are from the riverdale wiki

---

SEASON 1 (PART 4):

the lost weekend: this is the one with a very special guest star in it: molly ringwald as archie’s mom! she and fred (luke perry) have been separated for some amount of time for an unknown reason. yay she’s so cute! i love her. oh uh, also they’re getting a divorce. the papers are going through. archie gets the bad news in the middle of a gaming sesh with jughead.

meanwhile, veronica meets with her dad’s lawyer (whose name is paul sowerberry?? he never shows up again despite his unbelievably silly name) and tells him she’s not giving him a good statement as to her father’s character to help him get a lesser sentence. “fuck you dad!” is the general sentiment before she stomps out to go to school.

oh man there’s a weird aspect of this show that i have neglected to mention. this isn’t something i’ve ever experienced in school so it was totally foreign and weird to me but the students have their own lounge that they mingle and talk in...at...some point during the school day?? jughead’s opening monologue of this episode makes great pains to talk about how every moment of their lives are scheduled from 8am to 3pm but there’s apparently plenty of sittin’ time where they can just laze about this random room talking about crimes they have or are going to commit. a great deal of talking happens in this room when usually you’d have to like, sneak a convo while getting shit out of your locker between classes. i dunno, it’s weird. this is where archie tells veronica about clifford blossom sending her dad to jail so he can jack the land everyone is fighting over.

archie and betty make plans to celebrate jugheads birthday by taking him to the movies, which i feel like is in poor taste given his movie house was just destroyed but whatever. with betty coming along it’ll be just like the three muskateers! betty replies “AcTuAlLy ThErE wErE fOuR mUsKeTeErS” and somehow he doesn’t beat her to death with his bookbag right there and then. betty then doubles down on the bad words flowing out of her mouth and proposes they hold a surprise party for jughead since, according to his dad, he’s never had one. i have no idea what would compel her to think he would want this. even i know he doesn’t want this and i only know him through a tv screen. on top of this she goes out of her way to invite his deadbeat alcoholic dad multiple times. i thought she was supposed to be the smart, observant nancy drew type but like...what the fuck betty. jughead does, in fact, get pretty pissed at archie just for telling his girlfriend that he even has a birthday. presumably instead of telling him he emerged fully formed from the leader of the black parade’s forehead.

after finding out from some files that her dad was receiving money monthly from clifford blossom for some unspecified reason before the arrest, veronica challenges cheryl to a dance off and wins. unfortunately, veronica cant come forward with what she knows because it would make it look like her dad put a hit out on jason in retaliation. dance off to relieve the pain.

jughead fucking hates his party and makes sure everyone knows it. this is something NORMAL people do and he is NOT normal!!! he leaves the party in a huff when cheryl shows up to get her dance off revenge by ruining the party by inviting the whole school. this is the episode where he does his famous “im a weirdo, i have a hat” speech, which is deliciously dumb. they get in a fight, while jughead’s dad talks to kevin’s boyfriend (who you will remember is a member of his gang he assigned to keep tabs on the progress of the teens looking into the whole land plot mess) while betty’s mom secretly listens in?!

cheryl activates chaos mode and locks everyone in the house so they can play a game called “secrets and sins” which is really just an excuse for her to ask everyone horrible questions to make them feel bad. veronica accuses cheryl of fucking her brother, dilton doiley tells everyone about grundy’s statutory rape of archie andrews and chuck tells everyone about dark mode betty drugging him for an impromptu bdsm session which causes jughead to go apeshit and try to throw a weak little baby punch. jughead’s dad, as the only adult who for some reason let all this happen, finally throws everyone out and tells them to go home.

archie and veronica sleep together, by which i mean, next to each other in the same room. veronica testifies on her father’s behalf and discloses to betty the link between jugheads dad and the serpents and her dad’s land plot dreams. molly ringwald appears for 20 seconds.

INHALES. OKAY.

to riverdale and back again: its homecoming babey! archie’s very supportive mother has a nice talk with him. :) veronica founds out that her dad only has to serve “a few more months” in prison for his various white collar crimes, further proof that riverdale takes place in america. jughead and his dad have a nice normal breakfast while fp sweats and asks him “hey uh, how come uh you’re writing about the uhhhh murder and investigating it and stuff” like a normal dad would. archie and veronica tentatively agree to start going out.

penelopy blossom brings polly (betty’s pregnant sister, remember her? i didn’t) a strawberry milkshake in the most ominous way possible. veronica plans to sneakily find out if jughead’s dad is helping her own and for what purpose, ultimately. jughead accepts and invite to betty’s house for dinner, not knowing her mom is going to grill the shit out of him and his dad over the whole kid murder thing.

polly finds the ring jason proposed to her with back in penelope’s room while snooping, and has no idea how it wound up back in the hands of his mother. according to penelope, jason threw it in their face when he renounced his lineage, then gives her another milkshake.

the cooper family event is disrupted when betty, wise to her mother’s horseshit, invites her estranged dad to dinner too. all hell breaks loose when the subject of homecoming comes up and fp reveals that while alice and hal were crowned homecoming king and queen, they got in a knockout, drag-out fight backstage. alice flips out before he can reveal what it was about and betty and jughead flee for the dance. meanwhile archie and veronica try, and fail, to find something incriminating in fp’s trailer.

cheryl discovers the milkshakes are DRUGGED and polly is going to sleep through homecoming. she informs her parents that she has disposed of the ring (evidence) and they dont have to worry about it anymore. you can see where this is going.

jughead’s dad drops a bomb on him right before homecoming that they’re going to move to toledo to meet up with jughead’s mom and baby sister. jughead hates this bc he just got used to betty and he wants to write his murder book.

archie and veronica sing a truly terrible cover of “kids in america” that has to be seen to be believed.

youtube

meanwhile, sherrif keller tears up fp’s house with a search warrant and finds the gun that was used to kill jason blossom. WHAAAA??? BUT ARCHIE AND VERONICA JUST SEARCHED IT??? how could this happen.....jughead finds out about the web of deception weaved by the friends and tells them all to fuck off so he can go to toledo with his family. jughead literally turns around and is informed that his dad was just arrested for murder. his life is so hilariously bad.

the sheriff sucks so bad at his job because he tells his gay son everything who then spills the beans to archie and co (sans jughead) who learn that fp is being framed, because they already tossed the place before.

cheryl has the ring. at this point none of these things mean anything.

i cant believe i still have two more of these. i’m going to have to split this post after this one.

anatomy of a murder: as it turns out, archie discovers, information you discover during a breaking and entering won’t hold up in court. oops. meanwhile fp inexplicably confesses to kidnapping jason after his fake drowning at sweetwater river so he could use him as ransom after discovering he heir to all that sweet maple syrup money. according to fp, jason nearly escaped so they cut their losses and blasted a hole in him. he also confesses to torching the car and stealing the sheriff's files (which we, the audience, know hal cooper did, not fp). well. that’s that, i guess.

betty’s dad comes back to the family home to destroy the murderboard evidence all like “whoo hoo! fp took a bullet for me!” hal’s concern and his reason for stealing the files in the first place, as it turns out, was because the feud between the coopers and the blossoms is more complicated than we thought. the coopers WERE blossoms, until grand-pappy was murdered, so they packed their shit and left with a new name. so that makes polly and jason related. cool!

fp apparently used his his last phone call to call kevin’s boyfriend who, after some pressing by the gang, admits that while he didnt see fp pull the trigger, he did help him put jason’s body in a freezer. this tip leads them to the corpse of a serpent who had a sack of money in a monogrammed dufflebag with the initials “h.l.” (hiram lodge). this is a comically dumb move for a crime boss to make. it is shockingly stupid.

joaquin tells kevin about a secret stash he and fp set up before he bounces from town forever because riverdale sucks. in the stash is jason’s jacket. everyone puzzles over what it means until betty, noted brain genius checks the pockets. in it they find a usb drive.

they sit down and watch the usb and react like they’re watching a sad documentary and not a snuff film. betty calls CHERYL OF ALL PEOPLE and tells her what they just saw on the usb. cheryl, queen of chaos, confronts her dad and tells him that everyone knows what he did.

it turns out the video depicts jason tied up in the basement of the whyte wyrm, there the dead serpent watches over him. clifford blossom walks in and blows a hole in his kid. fp confessed to protect jughead, who was threatened by cliff as the heat poured on.

clifford dies surrounded by his greatest love, maple syrup, by hanging himself in the syrup barn. lol

the sweet hereafter: how the fuck is there another episode of this? they solved the murder, what else could there possibly be to do. wtf. anyway.

the cops find hella drugs in the maple barn after clifford’s death. the assumed story is that jason learned about his dad’s heroin smuggling business and threatened to tell the cops on his dad which lead to his abduction, and eventual death. i guess the polly thing is in here too somehow. not important i guess. the lodges prepare for hiram’s arrival. betty and archie are going to be honored by the mayor for cracking the case at the 75th annual jubilee (wtf). hermoine attempts to buy fred out of the project now that the cops are cracking down on the serpents and making them the face of the construction company is now a very bad look.

betty tries to write an article for the town paper about fp being innocent but her parents wont publish it, citing it as a conflict of interest given she’s smooching the subject’s son. jughead FINALLY JUT NOW gets a social worker who realizes that fred has a dui and is not fit to care for a kid. he has to transfer to a new school district...SOUTHSIDE HIGH SCHOOL!!!

cheryl apologizes for throwing hands at jughead in a previous ep and gives him her iconic spider brooch. i am only bringing this up because she says, specifically, that selling it will net him a good amount of hamburgers and “s t-shirts” for years. why is she the only one who notices he only wears one kind of shirt. betty’s article getting published in the school paper leads to the above retaliation.

veronica’s mom honest to god asks her to sexually manipulate archie into convincing his dad to sell the project to her.

betty’s mom, after a confrontation, tells betty abt the fight she and her dad had on homecoming night when they were high schoolers. turns out...alice was pregnant. she gave the baby up for adoption after she went to the sisters of quiet mercy, like she did with polly, even though hal wanted an abortion. betty immediately tells all her friends this shit.

jughead transfers to the new high and flourishes. turns out they’re all baby gangsters there so they look at him and his dad as kings to be admired. when the archie group heads off to go rescue him, it turns out they dont need to do anything. but now that theyre all conveniently together, veronica gets a txt from cheryl saying she’s going to go be with jason....

they rush to the river where cheryl is having her ophelia meltdown in his stupid little river boat dress where she punches through the ice until she falls through. theres no way to describe how silly this scene is unless you see it so i won’t try but its so melodramatic and cheesy that youre going to be amazed that it got through the writing team at all. archie saves her by punching through the ice the other way. from under the ice. you will soon find, that all of archie’s solutions are to punch things.

betty does a speech at the jubilee that convinces fred not to sell. a nice ending for him.

meanwhile cheryl burns her fucking house down for a lark. just for the drama of it all.

the same night, jughead and betty start to fuck, as do veronica and archie. not int he same room, like totally separately. but jughead is interrupted by the serpents and a dog named hotdog, who give him a jacket of his own so he can join the team. betty is scandalized.

archie goes to meet his father for a breakfast at pop’s chocklit shoppe for a serious talk. but while he’s int he bathroom, a man with a gun is holding up the chocklit shoppe. he demands fred’s wallet, then pops a hole in him and runs off.

and that.........is where this season......ends.

---

thank you for joining me for season 1 of this shitshow. i love this shitty show. if you loved reading about it, or were mortified by whatever the fuck happened here, then you should watch it as well.

i never pass up an opportunity to shill myself, so if you like what i write, drop me a buck or two at my patreon. i do more writing like this, but also i mostly make comics, so make sure to read the page when you’re signing up so you know what you’re getting!

i WILL return...with season...2!

https://www.patreon.com/aghoststory

#riverdale

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dabidevito · 6 years ago

Text

[fic] noctuary

read on ao3

rating: G // words: 4585

summary: (n.) - the record of a single night’s events, thoughts, or dreams

An airport adventure between two sort-of strangers, in the liminal space between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

a/n: this is a gift for @howellaf as part of @phandomficfests holiday exchange, which was an absolute joy to be a part of.

thanks as always to @knlalla for her beta work and constant encouragement. 2019 is not ready for our combined writing power ✨💛

10:21 pm, December 24th (Christmas Eve)

Phil clicks into the Virgin Atlantic app for about the hundredth time that evening, just to check that the departure time hasn’t changed in the last five minutes. He’s always been an anxious flyer. People have begun to congregate around the check-in desk, rounding up kids and various belongings in anticipation of their 10:40 pm boarding call. Phil lingers in the back corner of the gate area, where he’d been lucky enough to secure one of the few charging ports for his phone - one of the perks of being a habitually early traveler.

He bounces his leg restlessly as he waits for the app to refresh. Beyond the terminal’s foggy glass windows, the planes are beginning to accumulate a thin layer of snow. He debates switching over to the weather app on his phone, but knows if he has to look at the cataclysmic blues and purples sprawled over the radar map of New York one more time, his simmering panic will turn into a full-on spiral.

When the departures page finally loads, no thanks to JFK’s terrible WiFi, it's all of Phil's horrible traveling nightmares brought to life.

Virgin Atlantic Flight 154 to London (LHR) - CANCELLED DUE TO INCLEMENT WEATHER Please proceed to the gate agent for rebooking. We apologize for any inconvenience.

Moments later, a collective groan ripples out from the crowd as the news is spread over the loudspeaker, the cancellation now displayed in blazing red font on all the overhead screens. A desperate shuffle towards the ticket counter begins almost immediately, but Phil feels paralyzed in his dingy corner.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Filming for his studio’s latest production was supposed to wrap three days ago, and he should've been settled under a blanket with a cup of his mum's Christmas cocoa by now. Not stranded in bloody America on Christmas Eve after weeks of being away from home. But there'd been delay after delay on set, and with the holiday looming, the entire crew had worked through last night in order to get the final scenes filmed. He’s exhausted and more than a little cranky and suddenly feels totally unprepared to deal with his current worst-case scenario.

He locks his phone and closes his eyes, trying to breathe through the panic of having to book a new flight and find somewhere to stay tonight, and he's all alone in a country that isn't his and do planes even fly on Christmas? What if there's suddenly a problem with his work visa and they don't let him on the plane back to England anyway and no one at the production company will answer the phone because they're all cuddled up under blankets with cups of their mum's hot cocoa and -

"Hey."

Phil jumps as a hand comes down lightly on his shoulder, almost tilting out of his chair from the sudden jolt. The owner of the hand steadies him, fingers curling gently into the fabric of his jumper.

"You okay?" The stranger asks, except when Phil finally follows the line of the man's arm up to his face, he realizes that this person is not a stranger at all. In fact, Phil’s spent nearly every day for the last month with him in some capacity or another. The film that’s the source of his current travel predicament had been resplendent with minor speaking roles, one of which happened to be filled by a certain curly-haired actor with a posh accent. Phil’s sure that the B-roll from his set camera is overflowing with lingering shots of the man who’s currently waiting for him to get his act together and respond to a simple question.

"Oh, it's you," Phil begins, ever a beacon of eloquence. He digs around in his muddled brain for the man's name, trying to blink past the haze of panic that’s taken up residence there.

"Dan," the man supplies, retracting his hand from Phil's shoulder. "From, uh, the movie?"

Phil forces a smile onto his face. "Of course. Sorry, I was just…” He gestures vaguely around his body, not really sure what sort of excuse would play well here.

Dan offers him kind smile, one that’s more genuine than should be possible given the circumstances. “I don’t mean to bother you,” he says, “it’s just that, uh, pretty much everyone’s gotten rebooked already? I sort of - this makes me sound like a weird stalker, I swear I’m not - I just sort of noticed that you hadn’t moved since they made the announcement. And that you looked upset. But it’s really gonna be fine, I think there’s still seats on the first plane out tomorrow morning.”

Phil looks past Dan to the nearly-deserted gate area. A lone mother wrangles her son back into a buggy, various bags scattered around her. The gate agent frowns down at her computer, looking exhausted and like she’d rather be just about anywhere else. She glances wearily between two men standing in front of her desk who appear to be arguing about which flight is better. But the hundreds of other inconvenienced travelers are nowhere to be seen, making Phil feel acutely aware of just how long he’s been sitting here in silent panic. His hands feel clammy with embarrassment, that someone he kind-of-sort-of-not-really knows had to witness him being such an unfunctional, dithering failure of an adult.

“Oh! Right. Um, thank you. For, uh, saving me from sitting here and sulking all night,” Phil says as he begins to gather up his belongings and stuff them into his backpack. Dan shifts from foot to foot in front of him, scuffing his shoe against the off-white tiles.

“Right, yeah, I’m a regular old hero, huh?” Dan mumbles.

Phil glances up the long line of Dan’s body, already feeling a hundred times more at ease than he had just moments ago. “My knight in shining travel accessories,” he says, nodding at the pillow hanging around Dan’s neck and trying to suppress a laugh at his own dumb joke.

Dan flushes pink immediately at the remark, reaching up to touch the shimmery grey material of the pillow. “Oi,” he says, “if you’re gonna be hanging out with me until the bloody snowpocalypse is over, know that I won’t tolerate being made fun of for having a sense of both fashion and practicality.”

(The way his bottom lip sticks out in a little pout is illegal in about ten countries, Phil thinks. Or at least it should be.)

Phil finally gets to his feet, hoisting his backpack over his right shoulder.

"Oh, are we, uh? You want to hang out with me?" Phil honestly hadn't expected that. He'd begun to resign himself to a night alone at the airport, wandering around and lost in his own anxieties.

Dan starts reversing course immediately, much to Phil’s dismay. "Sorry, uh, we don't have to, of course, you probably want to uh, get a hotel or something. Not hang out with some guy you barely know all night. I'll just uh, see you around, or something." He's already started walking backwards and away from Phil, refusing to even meet his gaze.

"Wait, no," Phil says. "Sorry, I didn't mean - ugh." He breathes out a laugh at both of their awkwardness. Dan is looking at him with something like curiosity, or maybe hope. "Just - would you mind waiting for me? While I go see about getting on a new flight?"

Dan smiles, looking immensely relieved. "Yeah. 'Course. There's one that departs around 8 am, that's what I've got."

The gate area is well and truly deserted now as Phil makes his way over to the desk. He manages to get the final seat on the morning flight, and he shoots Dan a smile and a thumbs up as the gate agent prints out his new ticket. Phil pockets the slip of glossy paper and thanks her profusely, wishing her a happy holiday before wandering back over to where Dan's sat typing something into his phone.

He looks up as Phil approaches, locking his phone and getting to his feet. "Hey," Dan says. "Fancy a coffee? There's a Starbucks in Terminal 5 that's open til 1 am."

"Now you really are my knight in shining armor," Phil says, grinning. "C'mon, if I have to stare out at the snow-covered planes any longer, I'll go mental." He bumps his shoulder lightly into Dan's, nudging him towards some promising-looking directional signs.

11:47 pm

Dan presses some of America's weird green paper money into Phil’s hand as they enter the Starbucks, waving away Phil's protestations before they can even leave his mouth.

"I'll get us a table. Surprise me," Dan says, nodding towards the festively-patterned menu hanging above the counter before disappearing in the direction of an empty corner table. Phil stares up at the options, racking his brain for a memory of watching Dan fill a paper coffee cup from the catering table on set. There'd been a bottle of caramel syrup, staunchly ignored by the rest of the cast and crew, that he’d noticed Dan drain into his own cup day after day.

The barista coughs pointedly to get Phil's attention. "What can I get for you, sir?" she asks.

"Um, two grande caramel macchiatos and two of whatever pastries you've got left. Surprise me," Phil says, deciding to take a page out of Dan's book. He's pretty sure the barista rolls her eyes at him, but she produces two chocolate croissants from the case anyway and starts on preparing the drinks. Phil drops some stray American coins from his pocket into her tip jar. It's Christmas, and he (hopefully) won't have any use for them after tonight anyway.

Dan is staring out the window at the runway as Phil makes his way over to the table he's claimed. Stupid planes. Part of the glass has fogged over from the temperature difference, and Dan's drawn a frowny face into the condensation.

"Draw a Christmas tree at least," Phil says lightly as he sets down their feast and pulls out the opposite chair for himself. Dan begrudgingly obliges him, dragging his left pointer finger against the glass again. He smiles at Phil when he's finished, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

"Better?"

"Now our Christmas celebrations can really begin," Phil says with a laugh, pushing one of the red cups towards Dan. "Cheers."

Just then, Phil's phone screen lights up from with a text from his mum. Merry Christmas darling, see you soon. We all miss you xx, it reads. His lockscreen mocks him with the time in large white font: 12:01 am. Despite the winter weather and the cheery Christmas tunes playing softly over the speakers, his heart feels heavy in his chest. He wasn't supposed to spend Christmas like this.

When he glances across the table, Dan is looking down at his phone as well, frowning. Phil wonders what his text says, if it's from his own mum too. It makes his heart ache even more, to see Dan's dimple disappear into sadness. Under the table, he nudges his foot gently into Dan's.

Dan glances up, thumbs still poised over his phone. "Hey," Phil says softly, "Merry Christmas?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question.

Dan tilts his head a bit but offers him a small smile. "Yeah," he says. "Merry Christmas, Phil." He stretches his leg out under the table and leans it fully into Phil's, warmth seeping in even through two layers of denim.

1:05 am, December 25th (Christmas Day)

The Starbucks employees kick them out at precisely one o'clock.

They wander aimlessly through the terminal, past closed shops and a handful of weary travelers. Phil's always thought that airports exist in another dimension, one where nothing is quite right and anything is possible.

Here, a pretty boy who Phil's camera lingered on for too long takes giant, caffeine-fueled strides forward on the skywalk only to make a show of running back towards Phil against the direction of the moving walkway. He finally makes it after a few missteps, giggling as he trips and falls against the railing. Phil's laughing too, taking Dan by the arm and guiding them both off the end of the conveyor belt. In a fit of bravery (or maybe stupidity), Phil doesn't let go once they're on solid ground; instead, he links his arm through Dan's and leans minutely into his side. Phil watches a small rosy patch bloom on Dan's cheek as they keep walking, Dan tugging him closer with every step.

1:13 am

There's only a few open establishments in their terminal at this hour, one of which is a small tiki-themed bar complete with gaudy straw decorations and a lone bartender polishing some pineapple-shaped glasses. Phil immediately drags Dan over to two of the many open barstools - he feels like they deserve a drink after all they've been through tonight. Dan doesn't put up much of fight, just drops his backpack next to Phil's and takes a seat.

"What can I get ya, fellas?" The bartender asks them in a thick Texan accent. Or maybe Phil just thinks all American accents sound Texan. Phil swivels in his stool to face Dan. "What d'ya drink, mate?" He asks.

Dan leans onto the bartop, propping his head up in his right hand. "You look like a piña colada kind of guy," he says to Phil.

"Oi, what gave me away?" Phil says, laughing and turning back to Mr. Maybe-Texan. "Two of those, please."

Two turns into four turns into six, until they're both hunched over Phil's phone laughing at the absurdity of his Instagram explore page. Dan's curls are wild from the way he keeps pushing them out of his eyes, and the alcohol has given his face a pink flush that spreads down and under the collar of his shirt. Phil's about three coconut-infused sips away from saying something incredibly stupid like you're so fucking pretty or I'm glad I got stuck here with you or a slew of even more problematic things like do you live in London? I'd love to see you sometime.

"Alright, last call boys," says their bartender, startling Phil out of his rum-induced daydreams. Dan wrestles Phil's phone fully out of his hands, squinting down at the time.

"'S'not even three yet!" He exclaims, clumsily getting to his feet and leaning fully over Phil’s lap to protest more directly at Mr. Definitely-Not-Texan, who’s stood at the other end of the bar. He steadies himself with a hand pressed directly onto Phil's thigh, the other splayed across the bartop. Phil's piña colada brain knows that it only makes logical sense for him to wrap an arm around Dan's waist, to hold him close so that he won't topple over. Dan seems to comply with this genius plan, leaning even further into Phil's side and continuing his lament.

"There's not - d’ya know, it can't be last call because, because. Because! You haven't - we haven't even had any pizza yet! Phil, Phil, tell 'em, everyone knows you can't have last call until there's pizza! Isn't that - this bloody country has no good laws, I'm telling ya, pizza is the law! Phil - " Dan accentuates his point by poking Phil in the chest. "Tell me I'm right. You know I'm right. We need pizza."

"We need pizza," Phil confirms, nodding his head solemnly at Dan who is so close, so close and soft and warm against him, and -

"You're out of luck there," the bartender says. "Most everything's shut down for the night. You'll have to sleep it off instead, but you can't do it here. Sorry boys."

Phil has the distinct sense that Dan's about to turn up the dramatics to method-actor levels based on the deep inhale he takes. Regretfully, he nudges Dan out of his lap in order to sign the check, effectively cutting off his inevitable rant, and Dan sits back on his own stool to pout.

3:02 am

With nowhere else to go, they wander back towards their new plane's gate. At least, Phil's pretty sure they're headed in the right direction. Mostly he's just been following Dan.

It feels like they walk for ages, the buzz of the alcohol steadily wearing off and being replaced with a wave of exhaustion. Phil lags behind Dan for long enough that he finally stops and turns around, holding out his hand and waiting for Phil to catch up.

Phil stops too, admiring the way Dan looks like this. A bit hazy around the edges from the outdated prescription of his spare glasses, smiling and asking without words for Phil to hold his hand. It's a good image. Probably the best he could've asked for, given the circumstances. It's more than enough to motivate him to drag his heavy feet across the floor and slip his hand into Dan's. In this moment, he’d happily miss another plane just to keep Dan looking at him the way he is right now.

They walk for another eternity before reaching their gate, where a handful of people are slouched awkwardly in the small chairs. Some are asleep, some are illuminated by a blue electronic glow, and some are just simply staring off into space. Phil spots a lone outlet in a corner, but there aren't any chairs near it. He tugs Dan towards it anyway, knowing that both of their phones are low on power.

The carpet's not pristine but it looks clean enough, so they both collapse happily against the wall.

Dan digs around in his bag awkwardly for his phone charger with his right hand, still holding onto Phil's with his left. Dan's hand is warm and soft in his, and Phil takes the opportunity to examine it in more detail, holding it up in front of his face in the dim light.

"Oi, do you have some weird hand fetish you haven't told me about?" Dan’s got a laugh behind his eyes and that damn rosy patch in bloom on his cheek again and Phil is so, so done for.

Phil folds the limb in question under both of his own hands, clutching it protectively to his chest. “Hands are the best part of a person!” He asserts. “I won’t be kinkshamed in public, Daniel.”

“How about in private, then?”

Surely Phil hasn’t heard that correctly. He’s got rum and coconut sloshing around in his veins and surely Dan hasn’t just insinuated that he and Phil might see each other after this whole travel fiasco is finished. He opens his mouth to reply but can’t find any words to properly express just how much he’d like the opportunity to do just that.

Dan’s fingers tap out a quick rhythm against Phil’s t-shirt. “Your heart’s racing.”

“You make me nervous,” Phil replies, finally. Maybe he’s still got some of that liquid courage left.

Dan pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth, considering. “Good nervous?”

“Yeah,” Phil laughs. “Good nervous.”

4:38 am

Even in the middle of the night, airports are never truly quiet. But in the little corner they’ve settled into here, Phil feels the calmest he’s been in a good long while.

Dan’s head is a warm, solid weight on his shoulder, soft brown curls tickling at his jaw. The pair of earbuds split between them plays something unfocused and dreamy and instrumental from Dan’s phone, lulling Phil into a weird sort of 4 am trance as he stares out at the darkness of the runway. It’s not the kind of music Phil would ever pick for himself, but he kind of likes the way it lets him drift to thinking about other things. Like Dan’s long, slow, half-asleep breaths. The way he curls the fabric of his hoodie over his knuckles.

They’re still a good three hours from sunrise but he knows that the airport will wake up painfully soon, that people will begin to arrive in short order and drag themselves onto the first early morning flights and they’ll be swept up in the rush of it all. He and Dan will board the same plane but sit twenty rows apart on opposite sides of the aisle, and that just feels so fundamentally wrong in a way he can’t understand.

Dan shifts against him and blinks open his eyes, straightening up and dragging a hand over his face. “Mmpft. Sorry. Think I dozed off for a minute there.”

He looks over at Phil, sleepy and fond. An intrusive thoughts worms its way into Phil’s brain, of seventy-five more Christmases of seeing Dan like this.

“You should sleep a bit longer,” he says softly, “before it gets too loud in here.” There’s already more and more people walking past their gate every minute. Phil tugs gently on the sleeve of Dan’s hoodie, and Dan comes easily, reaching for his phone and skipping through a few songs before settling back down against Phil. He wedges Phil’s arm out from between their bodies, draping it across his shoulders instead. “Need coffee,” he grumbles, already sounding half-asleep again.

“We just had coffee,” he tells Dan’s hair. Hadn’t they? It sort of feels like an entire lifetime has transpired between now and then.

“Ugh, that was ages ago. Need something festive this time, it’s Christmas now.”

Phil makes a little noise of agreement. Perhaps the festive beverage ranking he’s been working on could use a second opinion. He sets an alarm for an hour on his own phone, tapping slowly and awkwardly with his left hand, before returning to staring out the window. There’s a small army of snow ploughs clearing the area around the parked planes, and Phil can see a few stray snowflakes still falling in the glow of the floodlights.

He makes sure that their backpacks are still tucked in securely between his body and the wall and that the boy he’d fancied from afar just 24 hours ago is resting soundly at his other side before letting his own eyes drift closed.

5:54 am

It’s a different barista than the one who’d politely kicked them out five hours ago, but they still manage to claim the same corner table in Terminal 5’s Starbucks, condensation issues and all. A ghost of Dan’s Christmas tree still lingers in the morning fog.

Phil shows Dan the festive ranking in his Notes app, which Dan is more than happy to tear apart and completely rearrange. The destruction is worth it for the way Dan’s dimple keeps appearing in his cheek each time he moves anything with white chocolate further down the list. Phil stretches his legs fully into Dan’s space under the table and stubbornly refuses to look at the clock.

6:28 am

There’s nothing to do besides talk, which is just fine by Phil. He’s never been one to overshare but he likes hearing Dan’s voice, likes hearing about his life. About how he technically works as a law consultant but only really finds joy in acting, even though he’ll probably never land enough roles to quit his day job. About how missing out on extra time spent petting his family’s dog is the true tragedy of Christmas. About how he doesn’t usually make a habit of flirting with his cameramen, thank you very much, but he might just make an exception for ones who let him sleep on their shoulder all night.

Maybe it’s fine that the clock keeps ticking, that they’re now within an hour of their boarding call. New York’s been pretty good to him, but he has a feeling that being back home in London is going to be even better.

7:31 am

They find actual chairs to sit in at their gate this time, despite the crowd that’s gathered there. Dan’s talking on the phone with someone, presumably his mum by the way his entire side of the conversation is yeah and mhmm and I know. He’s sat cross-legged in his chair, long limbs somehow tucked up neatly under his ` body, one knee overlapping casually with Phil’s thigh. Phil traces shapes into the denim of his jeans there, stars and squiggles and something that he imagines would be a cross between a chinchilla and an armadillo if he could actually see it.

“Attention passengers, in just a few moments we will begin boarding for British Airways Flight BA178 to London, currently on time for an 8:05 am departure. At this time we’d like the begin pre-boarding for customers with...”

“Yeah, okay mum, listen, I gotta go, we’re boarding now. Okay. Yeah. Love you too, see you soon. Mhmm. Okay. Bye.” Dan ends the call, glancing around at the hectic departure scene before turning to Phil with a small smile. He takes Phil’s restless fingers and slots them between his own, a gesture that Phil is already fully addicted to.

Dan nods down at the boarding pass clutched in Phil’s other hand. “What number are you?” he asks.

“Four. You?”

Dan scrunches up his nose. “Five. How were you literally the last person to get a seat on this plane but still able to end up boarding before me?”

Phil can’t help his grin. “Guess I’ve just been lucky recently, hmm?”

8:01 am

Phil leans as far into the window as he can, watching the last few suitcases get loaded onto the plane. His brain has finally slipped into overtired and cranky mode, and he really has no desire to be in close proximity to any grumpy stranger sat next to him right now.

Well. Maybe there’s one grumpy sort-of-stranger that he wouldn't mind.

The man in the aisle seat makes a disgruntled noise as someone stops to hover over him, but Phil keeps his eyes trained out on the runway. Probably it’s just the flight attendant closing up the overhead compartments.

“Hey, I’ve got a seat up in 21B that I’ll trade you for,” says a decidedly not-flight attendant voice. “It’s first off after business class, and the guy in the window’s already asleep. Won’t be any trouble for you, unlike this one.” He nods at Phil, smiling his stupid dimpled smile like this is the best plan anyone’s ever executed in all of airplane history.

(It kind of is, in Phil’s opinion.)

The actual flight attendant comes up the aisle behind Dan. “Sir, I really need you to sit down now.”

“C’mon mate,” Dan says, as though the swap is already a done deal. Mr. Grumpy McGrumpFace looks between him and Phil before unbuckling his seatbelt and brushing past them towards the front of the plane. The flight attendant sighs and turns to follow him, and Dan swings his bag up top before slouching down dramatically next to Phil.

“Hello,” Dan says, cheeky smile still on his face.

Phil just shakes his head fondly, trying unsuccessfully to hide how pleased he is at this turn of events. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Hm. Guess that’s something you’ll just have to get used to.”

The plane rumbles to life under them, someone speaking too softly over the tinny intercom. Dan produces his phone from his pocket, unraveling his headphones once again and handing one to Phil. “Your turn to sleep this time,” he says, reaching across to pull the windowshade down against the morning sun.

“Only if you play music that will give me Christmassy dreams.”

Dan just laughs and tugs Phil closer, typing ‘Mariah Carey’ into the search bar as they start to lift into the sky.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #dnp #dan and phil #*rosewrites

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gosecretscribbles · 6 years ago

Text

Stanuary 2019 Week 1 Bonding

“GET BACK HERE!”

“AAAGH!”

Stan chased after the tourist, brandishing his cane in one hand and the crossbow in the other. The guy had tried to pay for his tour with a baby goat! What did he think this was, Medieval Europe?! Goats were not currency! Goats weren't even profitable! They just ate, pooped, and stank!

Stan thought he was in decent shape for an old fat guy, but the skinny farmer sprinted to his truck like all the tax collectors in the state were on his heels. Plus that stupid baby goat was prancing around Stan and tripping him up. Even so, Stan nearly made it to the truck when the farmer hit the gas. The engine roared to life and dirt sprayed in Stan's face. He skidded to a stop, coughing and scraping at his eyes.

There was a thunk and Stan looked down. The kid had keeled right over, all four legs straight out.

“Oh, great, now he's dead! YOU PAID ME WITH A DEAD GOAT, YA MORON!”

He swung up the crossbow and fired, but the truck hit a bend in the road. Instead of popping a tire the bolt just hit the license plate and jarred it loose. It fell off with a noisy rattle as the truck swung around the curve and disappeared, the other goats' bleating quickly fading from earshot.

Swearing a blue streak under his breath, Stan went to retrieve the license plate. Never know when you'd need one to throw the cops off your trail.

Now he had to decide what to do with a dead baby goat. The next tourist bus wasn't coming until noon, so he had about an hour to figure it out. He didn't really want to stuff it, but he couldn't think of anything else to do with it. Hey, maybe he could make his new mechanic do it instead – what was his name, Zeus or something? Sure, that'd work. He just had to get the goat out of the way until Soup came back from school.

He reached the goat and bent down to grab its leg.

“Baa-aa-aah.”

“AAH!”

He jumped back. The goat's ears and tail twitched, then it rolled over and looked up at him.

“Baa-aa-aah,” it repeated insistently.

“Yeesh, give me a heart attack already,” Stan growled, one hand over his chest. “If you're looking for food, you're lying in it. Grass, meet goat. Goat, meet lunch. Now stay outta the way, I got a business to run.”

“Baa-aa-aah.”

He went inside to work on more pun-related exhibits for the museum. Those wax figures had brought in a ton of money when he'd first set them up, but business had gone dry a week ago, and he needed another money maker and fast. Those portal parts didn't come cheap.

The goat bleated from the porch for a solid twenty minutes, then he heard it clopping away. Stan snorted, then went back to gluing googly eyes on a plastic octopus. Maybe eight eyes, so it was like a combo spider-octopus? Yeah, that'd work. Now he just had to think of a catchy name for it. Or maybe Octo-spider? Arachnipus? Octo-Eyes? Hmm, maybe that'd work...

Stan came out of the Shack in time to greet the next tourist bus. He didn't see the kid anywhere, so many the dumb thing had wandered into the woods. Perfect, one less thing to worry about. He put everyone in the carts and drove 'em out to see random stuff in the forest, like the Tree of the Screaming Tourist. He told them the eerily twisted bark was an actual tourist whose spirit had been sucked into the tree when he refused to pay for the tour. (Everyone was suddenly very eager to pay him for the tour. And tip him. Generously.)

He drove 'em back and waved them into the bus. Then he headed back to the Gift Shop. His pockets were practically bulging with cash. He definitely had to use that Screaming Tree story more often! Even if it kind of freaked him out. Wait, hadn't Ford's journal's mentioned something about –

“Hi, Mr. Pines!”

“AAH!”

He jumped back for the second time that day, glaring down at Deuce, who was standing innocently in the doorway of the Gift Shop.

“Geez, kid, make some noise when you move!”

“Sure, Mr. Pines! By the way, I didn't know you had a pet goat!”

Deuce moved aside. That dumb stinky nuisance was sitting on the floor, legs sprawled everywhere, its floppy tail thumping like a puppy's.

“Baa-aa-aah!”

He groaned. “That's not a pet. And get it out of here! Smells like a moldy haystack, and I got some new attractions I need to make for the museum.” He stepped over the goat and strode to the craft counter in the corner. “Octo-Eyes was a huge hit! Taxidermic monstrosities are gonna make me a fortune!”

“Couldn't we make this little guy an attraction too?” Moose asked behind him. “I bet you could even give him a punny name! Like 'Cutebacabra'!”

Stan stopped and turned around. The goat looked up at him with those weird sideways pupils.

“Yeah,” Stan said slowly, holding up both hands to frame the little moneymaker. “Yeah, the Cutebacabra! Glue on some fake wings, coupla cow legs – maybe some red paint drooling from its mouth! Ha, I love it!”

Bruce beamed at him. “Thanks, Mr. Pines!”

“Kid, gather every spare stuffed limb I've got and a ton of crazy glue. Then go set up a display for him in the museum. This creepy cuteness is gonna be our next main attraction!”

Exactly forty-three minutes later, Stan was showing a new set of tourists into the museum. He'd already taken them to the Tree of the Screaming Tourist, and now he was gonna milk 'em dry. Zeus had rigged up a little stage and a red velvet curtain for Chompers. With a single grand gesture, Stan pulled it aside. Instantly the crowd went 'AAAAH!' and 'AWWW!'

He grinned and gestured grandly. Sluice had made it a little vest and glued on every spare animal limb they had. “That's right, folks, the rare baby Cutebacabra! The only one in the world! Pictures are five – no, fifty dollars each!”

Immediately tourists stuffed good ol' Grants into his hands and snapped pictures, flashes going off in every direction.

The goat's eyes went wide and it keeled over, legs straight out.

A kid in the crowd screamed. “OH MY GOD IT'S DEAD!”

“WE'RE CURSED!”

“RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIFE!”

“Oh come on!” Stan shouted. He didn't bother chasing the tourists – he'd pick-pocketed them while they had their eyes on the goat, and he knew they didn't have even two bucks left among the lot of them. But why in the name of Paul Bunyan did the goat keep playing dead?! If it had done that two seconds earlier it would've cost him all those picture fees!

“I'm back with the goat feed, Mr. Pines,” Puce said, poking his head into the Museum. He was dragging a forty-pound bag of feed. “You didn't give me any money, so I had to pay Mr. Sprotts with three hours of child labor.” Then he caught sight of the goat, turned white, and dropped the bag. “SWEET MOSES HE'S DEAD?!”

“No he's not,” Stan scowled. He reached out and poked the goat with a foot. The goat twitched, then flipped upright and started gnawing on one of the cow hoofs taped to its back. “See?”

The goat bleated and head-butted him.

“Aw, he likes you!” Spruce said.

“Ugh, get it offa me. The darn thing's defective!” He paused. “Then again, if I could get it to do it on command...” Imagine the look on people's faces if he walked his goat into traffic, then made them think they'd hit his Prize German-Australian Longhair Goat! They'd pay through the nose just to keep him from suing them!

“Eh, he probably just has that myotonic thing. Or maybe it was myopia? I always get those two mixed up.”

“Mia-what?”

The gumdrop shrugged. “Myotonia. Mr. Sprotts told me about it. You know how people get startled, and then they freeze up? It's like that, but for goats. And it lasts for longer, like their muscles seize up or something. It doesn't hurt them or anything,” he added, “but it is a genetic thing. Mr. Sprotts said a lot of his goats got it from the toxic waste dump.”

“So he's being literally scared stiff?”

Moose laughed. “Good one, Mr. Pines!”

The goat had finished chewing on the cow hoof and proceeded to gnaw on Stan's pantleg.

“Whoops!” Soup pulled the goat away, then set it down in front of the bag of feed and tore it open. “There ya go, little Gompers! This'll taste waaaay better. Trust me, I tried it!”

“Baa-aa-aah!”

Stan watched the goat eating. “Hey Swoose.”

“It's 'Soos', Mr. Pines!”

“Whatever. You're sayin' the goat just keeps getting scared?”

“Yep!”

“'Cuz it's genetic?”

“Uh, I guess so?”

“Well NOT ON MY WATCH! After one day of Stan’s Scare-A-Thon Therapy Session, this goat’s gonna be so desensitized it’ll never faint again!”

First, Stan got Moose to wire his satellite to pirate-stream horror movies from Japan. (Watching these also traumatized Puce, which Stan found hilarious.) Next Stan hired a clown (who he did not pay) and then practice his jump scares (which made Soos scream so loud it scared off all the birds in a three-mile radius). After that, Stan converted the Museum into a haunted house, complete with sheet-ghosts, cobwebs, and a looped sound track of death metal, complete with screaming. He shoved Gompers in and locked it tight.

He didn't realize until he went back three hours later that he'd also locked the child labor. Moose had collapsed on the floor in the middle of the room – but Gompers was stumbling around bleating to himself. It didn't look like he'd played dead at all!

Stan grinned. “Alright, now we're makin' progress!”

“That's great, Mr. Pines,” Bruce gasped. “You should – oh sweet burrito angels – you should totally save this stuff for Summerween.”

“Summer-what?”

“Summerween!” Soup struggled to sit up and collapsed. “It's – it's this holiday where – oh man I'm having a panic attack.”

Gompers clonked over, bleated, and started chewing on Soos' face.

Stan roared with laughter and slapped his knee. “Ha! This is goat's the best! Alright, Floose –”

“Soos.”

“Get ready for the main event. Something even scarier than Japanese horror movies or that weird mold growing in the corner.”

Sue sat up. “Okay, but if I don't come back, tell my grandma I love her and give all my stuff to charity.”

“The Mystery Shack appreciates your donations!”

Night was falling and the full moon was out. Luckily Soup had fixed the golf cart right down to the headlights, so they trundled along the beaten road in relative safety. Gompers and Soos were in the backseat, the kid's arms wrapped around Gompers like it was a really smelly plushy. He grinned. When he was done that goat would be almost as hardcore as Stan himself!

When they got close enough, Stan stopped the truck, hustled around to the trunk and started handing a stuff to Soup.

“Okay. Run ahead and put these all around the tree ahead. The batteries are all dying so the light'll flicker all weird and creepy. This one has a full battery. Lie down at the bottom of the tree, and then when I give the signal, shine it right at the bark.”

“Sure, Mr. Pines! Which tree is this again?”

“The one with a human soul was trapped in its bark writhing in agony!”

“Ok!”

Stan gave him a shove and then hustled back to the cart, where Gompers was currently chewing on the back seat. He hopped back in the driver's seat, waited three seconds and then drove slowly up to the Tree of the Screaming Tourist. It was hard to see the shape of the messed-up bark, which would make it even creepier when Zeus lit up the flashlights.

He parked, took his portable radio out of the trunk, and then grabbed Gompers. He set the goat down in front of the tree, backed up, and hovered his finger over the “play” button.

“Okay, Sluice...NOW!”

From the radio, a hollow scream filled the air and the whole tree lit up with a flickering yellow light.

“Ha! That's perfect!”

“Baa-aa-aah,” said Gompers.

He grinned, but before he could tell Zoop to step it up, the lights suddenly flickered. They turned orange, then red. The radio suddenly crackled with static and he dropped it as electricity singed his hand. The bark of the tree started moving and a huge ghost-y thing ballooned out of it, just a massive face made of fire and fury. Stan backed up with a shout. Several tree branches snapped and started bending like spider arms. One of them swung around from the back of the tree – and a certain pear-shaped mechanic was dangling from its twigs.

He waved. “Hi, Mr. Pines! I'm a hostage!”

The spirit's yellow eyes turned on him. Its pupils went red. “YOOUUUUU!”

“AAH!”

He sprinted for the golf cart, but the spirit lashed out and smashed it with a bark-covered arm. He grabbed Gompers and held it up.

“JUST TAKE THE GOAT, TAKE THE GOAT!”

“Do you know how long my spirit has been stuck in that tree, completely alone, just listening to those stupid squirrel-squids chatter about acorns and sushi? And after years of waiting for you to come back, you finally bring people to visit me – and you tell every last one of them how terrifying I am, so they'll never! Come! BACK!” The face swelled until it blotted out the sky. Its heat seared his skin. “AM I SCARY ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW, STAN PINES?!”

He screamed and tried to run, dropping the kid, but she swooped down and grabbed him up. She lifted him higher and higher, squeezing him so tightly he could feel his bones creak. He could barely breathe! He had a funny feeling he wasn't the Stan Pines she was talking about, but he couldn't get enough air to tell her that!

“Um, excuse me? Ms. Tree Spirit?”

They both looked at Soos, who was wiggling one of his chubby little hands to get the spirit's attention.

“Hrrrrr,” she growled.

He smiled. “Oh, I'm a him, actually! Although I do have a feminine softness. It sounds like you're mad because you've been lonely for so long, right? But Mr. Pines has been bringing people to see you all the time!”

“They are TERRIFIED of me!”

“Not everyone.” He pointed.

Gompers was standing on the ground below, absently chewing on a fallen stick. The ghost growled and moved closer, her face distorting until her burning yellow eyes were the size of whole cars, and her face was a gaping maw dripping with reddish flame, mere inches from the goat's puny face.

“DO YOU FEAR ME, LITTLE GOAT?!” she boomed, and her voice was so loud and deep the trees nearby actually shivered and creaked on their roots.

Gompers blinked.

“Baa-aa-aah,” he said, and resumed his chewing.

“Hmm.”

“Good goat,” Stan managed. The spirit scowled and squeezed a little harder.

“But this is not what we agreed to. I don't want people to be afraid of me!”

“But scariness is part of the fun!” Soos said earnestly. “Plus it's a fun way to spend time together! My dad never hangs out with me, but Mr. Pines and I watched a horror movie marathon. And even though I wet myself a couple of times, I wouldn't trade that time for the world. I'll bet the families who visited you remember how frightening and fun it was, and they'll probably come back to see you again next year!”

Stan could see the spirit thinking it over.

“Baa-aa-aah,” added the goat.

The spirit snorted and gave Stan a hard look, those ruby peepers staring right into his soul. “You will keep your promise, Stan Pines? You will not leave me to suffer in isolation?”

“Guarantee it,” he wheezed. “Main attraction. Every tour. Can't breathe.”

“Very well. But if you break your promise one more time, the woods will never be safe for you again.”

She let go of Soos and Stan, who hit the forest floor with a dull thump. The spirit withdrew into the bark, lifting her arms to become branches again, while the bark of the trunk twisted and rippled back to its previous shape. Stan waited for a second, but the tree didn't so much as twitch.

He sprang to his feet and scooped up the goat. “Ha! You did it! You beautiful monster, you really did it! You looked that tree-thing straight in the big yellow eye and didn't even twitch! I bet this goat could handle the frigging apocalypse without batting an eye!”

“Probably!” Soos agreed cheerfully.

Stan smirked, then mashed Soos' head in a noogie. “Ya didn't do too bad yourself, there, ya midget.”

“Really?!”

“Uh, are those actual stars in your eyes?”

“For you, Mr. Pines, I would go full-on anime.”

“Don't make this weird, kid. Now let's see if the golf cart's drivable. I'm allergic to all this bonding and I left my old-man tonic in the Shack.”

“Soda isn't tonic, Mr. Pines.”

“Says you.”

“Baa-aa-aah.”

A/N

“A myotonic goat, otherwise known as the fainting goat, is a domestic goat whose muscles freeze for roughly 3 seconds when the goat feels panic. Though painless, this generally results in the animal collapsing on its side. The characteristic is caused by a hereditary genetic disorder called myotonia congenita. When startled, younger goats will stiffen and fall over. Older goats learn to spread their legs or lean against something when startled, and often they continue to run about in an awkward, stiff-legged shuffle.”

- from a-source-I-forgot-to-save-the-website-for

Also Nour386 came up with the idea about why the Tree was screaming! I had a different idea but this one is so much better!!!

@nour386

#stanuary #stanuary 2019 #stanuary week 1 #stanuary 2019 week 1 #stanuary 2019 week 1 bonding #nour386 #bonding #goat #gompers #baby gompers #stan #stan pines #soos

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stvrwar · 7 years ago

Text

wait out the plastic weather

marauders social media au | 2k words | they’re youtubers bc why not and bc @frxddi is up this trope’s ass | ao3

james potter to tucci gang: you guys see the newest vid

sirius black: you mean the newest video that all of us are fucking in

sirius black: that cideo?

sirius black: *video

remus lupin: the video you uploaded and sent all of us the link to like…twelve minutes ago?

peter pettigrew: I think he might mean that video

james potter: fuck all of you not that video

james potter: and it has a name. it is out cHILD

remus lupin: pardon me, I didn’t realize “getting kicked out of Walmart #4” fit on the birth certificate

james potter: I have small handwriting

remus lupin: my mistake

james potter: ur mistake indeed but

james potter: not our fucking video morons

peter pettigrew: ur unnecessarily mean to us

james potter: lily evans video. The woman of my dreams. The greatest youtuber to ever fucking live

sirius black: now that’s just hurtful

remus lupin: and also why the fuck would we have watched her video?

james potter: now who’s hurtful?

remus lupin to so pete davidson and ariana grande are engaged and idk who I am anymore: sirius why is this our chat name now

sirius black: bc idk who I am anymore

peter pettigrew: is it bc ur in love with ariana grande

james potter: he loves ariana and he’s in love with pete

remus lupin: I can’t believe you’ve never told us

peter pettigrew: im touched

remus lupin: when’s the wedding?

sirius black: okay fuck all of u she is an icon and he is hilarious

james potter: ur face is hilarious

sirius black: im leaving you for him

james potter: babe no I didn’t mean it

sirius black: u’ve hurt me too many times

james potter: I promise I’ll change for you

remus lupin removed sirius black from the chat

remus lupin removed james potter from the chat

peter pettigrew: this happens like twice a fucking week

remus lupin: so how’ve you been pete?

peter pettigrew: pretty shook about that engagement tbh

remus lupin removed peter pettigrew from the chat

remus lupin: I am an island.

sirius black to the office season 2 episode 7: yo Walmart 4 is on trending wtf

james potter: !!!!!!!!!

peter pettigrew: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

remus lupin: im not gonna do that

sirius black: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

james potter: what number is it on trending??? Is this twitter or youtube btw

sirius black: youtube and #6

remus lupin: shit that’s our best yet

peter pettigrew: anyone check the subscriber count recently????

sirius black: the marauders are at 3.1 million what the FUCK IS UP YO

remus lupin: im so surprised u aren’t key smashing

sirius black: is it because im gay

remus lupin: no it’s because u have massive thumbs and can’t text to save your life

remus lupin: yes because you’re gay

sirius black: that’s homophobic. Im not gay bc I keysmash

peter pettigrew: ??? neither of you are straight. ????

remus lupin: no you keysmash bc you’re gay

james potter: WE ARE TRENDING WE CAN ARGUE ABOUT THIS LATER

james potter changed chat name to BRAINSTORMING SESSION ASAP

sirus black: porn

james potter removed sirius black from the chat

peter pettigrew: tasteful porn so we don’t get demonetized

james potter: keep talking

james potter to twinky winky is a great porn parody title why are you booing me: aquarium vid is a goooooooooooo

remus lupin: but the question is, can we live up to Walmart 4 hype

remus lupin: bc that shit is going insane online. People love it

remus lupin: we’re hoodlums, vandals

sirius lupin: loveable vandals and hoodlums

peter pettigrew: I feel like that’s debatable tbh

remus lupin: we as a collective whole have been kicked out of four separate walmarts

remus lupin: do you know how far I have to drive to get my fried chicken at 2 am

james potter: why the fuck are you getting fried chicken at 2 am

remus lupin: I don’t need this judgement

sirius black: so how’s the aquarium vid faring

peter pettigrew: u know what sirius is being the rational one for once and im too focused on the fried chicken to be amazed

remus lupin left twinky winky is a great porn parody title why are you booing me

peter pettigrew changed the chat name to colonel lupin’s fried chicken

sirius black: is it really that rare that im the rational one?

sirius black: jk ik im a messy bitch

peter pettigrew to three’s company: uh. Guys has james seen this yet

peter pettigrew sent an image

remus lupin: oh fuck

sirius black: well I haven’t heard any high pitched screeching yet so, no

peter pettigrew: she’s got more subscribers than we do, it would be good for the channel

sirius black: she’s a video game streamer what sorta collab are we supposed to do with that

remus lupin: idk, maybe a vid on her channel, a vid on ours? She’s in the same city so like, shouldn’t be too hard, right?

sirius black: welp he’s screaming so he definitely has seen the comment now.

james potter to chad and ryan were gay fuck you disney: “hey we should totally do a collab sometime! Message me :)”

sirius black: u have sent that TWELVE FUCKING TIMES NOW

sirius black: TWELVE

remus lupin: let the boy live

peter pettigrew: okay but the smiling is a little concerning tbh

remus lupin: @james potter have you even sent the fucked message yet? What did it say?

james potter: “hey! I’m so excited that you wanted to do a collab with us! I love your channel and doing something would be super great for both of us. Anything you had in mind?”

james potter: did I come off as a crazy person?

sirius black: in the best way possible

remus lupin: somehow that doesn’t feel like a compliment?

peter pettigrew: maybe you should use MORE exclamation points

james potter: stfu I am an expert at talking to the most beautiful woman in the world

sirius black: excuse me

james potter: I said woman

sirius black: tell me im pretty

james potter to little pig boy comes from the dirt: fuck gotta clean this shit up

james potter changed chat name to the marauders group chat

sirus black: ??????????????? wtf

remus lupin: has james been bodyswapped

peter pettigrew: like the movie face/off with nic cage?

remus lupin: I feel like there are better examples of body swapping

james potter added lily evans to the marauders group chat

sirius black: oh fuck now that makes sense

remus lupin changed chat name to little pig boy comes from the dirt

lily evans: from that SNL skit?

lily evans: I fucking love pete davidson tbh even though he breaks in like every skit

lily evans: did you guys hear that he and ariana got engaged? Idk who I’m more jealous of

sirius black removed james potter from the chat

sirius black: she’s our new james

peter pettigrew to owen wilson saying yeah for 2 hrs: drink every time someone comments about sirius’s appearance on a vid

james potter: “im a simple girl. I see sirius, I click.”

remus lupin: the words that will haunt my nightmare

james potter: the comments on the drag trying vid are…bonkers

peter pettigrew: who even says bonkers

lily evans: wow okay some of these commenters are…creative

james potter: by creative, do you mean terrifying?

lily evans: yes yes I do

remus lupin: I don’t even get it. He’s not that great looking?

sirius black: okay fuck you, u trick ass hoe

remus lupin: like, you cannot be everyone’s type

sirus black: trick ass hoe

remus lupin: im just being rational. You’re also like out. So who is thinking that saying they wanna have your babies is valid

lily evans: surrogacy?

peter pettigrew: sperm donation?

james potter: adoption?

remus lupin: fuck all of you individually and as a unit

sirius black: trick ass hoe

lily evans to shake shake shake senora: okay just posted my collab vid let’s see how this goes

james potter: what did u end up calling it?

lily evans: “i teach 4 idiots how to play overwatch”

sirius black: harsh but fair

remus lupin: we didn’t do that badly

peter pettigrew: remus die with dignity we did fucking awful

james potter: idk what it meant when lily kept calling me a hanzo main and laughing but it felt hurtful

lily evans: good. It was.

remus lupin to three rings to rule them all: so has james seen that people are shipping him and lily yet

remus lupin: because we should NOt let him know about that

peter pettigrew: he’d fucking cry

sirius black: theyd be called lames

sirius black: ha

sirius black to james potter: dude you gotta stop staring at lily when she comes over for pizza nights

sirius black: she’s gonna notice

sirius black: or like stop pretending that she isn’t noticing

james potter: wait you think she’s noticed

sirius black: christ you dumbass

lily evans to marlene mckinnon: you seen my newest collab with the marauders

marlene mckinnon: we’re roommates, obvi

marlene mckinnon: did u steal my lipstick

lily evans: okay but like. The comments

lily evans: …………………………………..what of it

marlene mckinnon: gonna kill u evans <3

marlene mckinnon: okay wow they really want u to get all up on glasses

lily evans: that one’s potter

marlene mckinnon: they want u to climb him like a tree

marlene mckinnon: do the horizontal tango

marlene mckinnon: netflix and chill

lily evans: these are getting less clever

marlene mckinnon: suck his dick

peter pettigrew to wwlbd (what would leonard bernstein do): uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh guys we are on tv

peter pettigrew: TV LIKE WE ARE ON FUCKIN TV

peter pettigrew: TELEVISION

sirius black: what

james potter: what

remus lupin: what

peter pettigrew: OKAY like not us but like. Our video. Walmart #4

remus lupin: great now everyone’s gonna know we’re fucking vandals

james potter: im fucking crying

sirius black: IM FUCKING CRYING

peter pettigrew: oh shit now it’s the video with @Lily Evans

peter pettigrew: we are being called charming and loveable with an “adoring” fanbase

lily evans: oh my god??????????? How’d you (we) even end up on tv

peter pettigrew: idfk! Some like...social media segment or something

sirius black to smonk wed: settle a bet for me

remus lupin: christ here we go

sirius black: I don’t appreciate the tone

remus lupin: christ! Here we go!

sirius black: whatver, acceptable, james wants to bone lily

remus lupin: uh

peter pettigrew: that be known

remus lupin: u know this isn’t the three man chat right

lily evans: uh

james potter removed sirius black from the chat

peter pettigrew to remus owes me like $20 and some triscuits: who ate all my freezy pops

sirius black: who the fuck calls them freezy pops

remus lupin: who let you back into any of the chats

sirius black: fuk u m8

james potter: he was crying so i let him back in

sirius black: and lily isn’t in this chat so i can say all the shit i want

james potter: i wish u wouldn’t

remus lupin: seconded

peter pettigrew removed sirius black from the chat

james potter: problem solved! peter pettigrew: okay but who ate my freezy pops

lily evan to james potter: so are we going to talk about it

james potter: about what precisely

lily evans: the revolution of the moon and the fact it’s made of cheese?

james potter: ah yes, it’s swiss btw

lily evans: the moon?

james potter: clearly

COMMENTS ON “THE MARAUDERS TRY DRAG FT. LILY EVANS (EVANSLY)

Chaitea7: oh my god why the fuck is sirius so pretty im jealous wtf

Janeyloo: okay but anybody else picking up on the tension between james and the redhead??

VIEW REPLIES

4marauderssssss: @Janeyloo that’s lily evans, she’s another youtuber and she’s fucking great

dva-main3: they are definitely a thing, i agree

greektragdy: okay but does this make their ship name lames? LIMES?

thomasthetrainbdsm: is wormtail ever gonna make another appearance? I love that funky little rat

dwightkshroooot: okay but why isn’t lily actually a like...try vlogger like these guys? she outdid sirius which is like. Unheard of.

VIEW REPLIES

dianaprinces234: like i never thought id see the day

yalldve: she looks so good wtf im shook

dhfakjshdgljdsl: i want lily evans to step on me and i would say thank you

VIEW REPLIES

honeynutcheetos: p sure james thinks the same thing lmao

011000110110000101110100: lmao right???? Im so gay

TheMarauders: I definitely think the same thing -James Potter

#harry potter #jily #Marauders #jily fic #jily group chat #harry potter fic #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #jily social media #marauders social media #my fic

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