#note i never watched that movie. i saw a skeleton on the box of a set and wanted it instantly

[lumpyrock]

This is going to be a very long post about Pufnstuf. It has some unpopular opinions. I had no clue where my DVD copy was, so I watched it on Internet archive, some of the notes will by biased because of that. You have been warned.

My notes on H.R. Pufnstuf from August and September of 2022

Ranking of the episodes

The Birthday Party (episode 7)

Jimmy Who? (Episode 17)

The Visiting Witch (episode 14)

The Golden Key (episode 6)

The Magic Path (episode 1)

The Wheely Bird (episode 2)

Tooth For A Tooth (episode 13)

The Almost Election Of Witchiepoo (episode 15)

The Mechanical Boy (episode 4)

You Can't Have Your Cake (episode 9)

The Stand In (episode 5)

Show Biz Witch (episode 3)

Dinner For Two (episode 11)

The Box Kite Kaper (episode 8)

Flute, Book, And Candle (episode 12)

Whadda Mean The Horse Gets The Girl? (Episode 16)

The Horse With The Golden Throat (didn't even watch it, episode 10)

I took statistics, because of course. (This discounts episode 10, because I am kind of scared of it, (and also I am an imperfect human) so take this with a grain of salt)

Number of times "witch" was said (discounting Witchiepoo but includingthe intro): 245

Average per episode: 15.3

Number of times "Flute" was said (including the intro): 86 (why so low?!)

Average per episode: 5.3

Number of times someone got whacked (as in a witch (including Jimmy in that one episode and the lackeys) hitting someone else): 70

Average per episode: 4.3

Number of times someone (Freddy) said "I'm scared" (again, discounting episode 10): 10

Average per episode: 0.6

Number of times it was the full intro: 13

Number of times it wasn't: 3

"I sure hope so": 7

"Keep those cards and letters coming": 8

This is already so long. ☆ means I thought the episode was notable. W is how many times "witch" was said in the episode, F is same for "flute", WH is for whacks. (This means I'm adding context or new notes), 'this means it is not a quote from the show but is supposed to be said by a character', "and this is a quote from the show". Let's get this long post even longer. Will use shortened titles, and the notes are in order of The Magic Path to Jimmy Who?. I have no clue what I was thinking for a lot of these, please forgive me.

Magic Path notes ☆ (full intro)

Why don't ya just get rid of the witch? You're the mayor!

Pufnstuf seems really fed up with Dr. B (Blinky) in one scene.

Dr. B is comedy gold!

This song feels really close to home.

Judy! *starts screaming*

The idea that those skeletons are real.

Even though we never saw him in the real world, it feels like he was actually there. (I think that was in comparison to the movie)

Unlike the coloring book, the order they run out of the castle Jimmy, Judy, Pufnstuf. (Had just done a coloring book video)

Other episodes have more characters, so it's harder to say goodbye, they've been here like a day.

How does the Magic Path work?

It didn't dissappear! It's still there!

Just runs away.

Racist. I love Jimmy's reaction shot right after.

80's freeze frame in 1969.

I sure hope so!

I love this, I love this so much.

W 16, F 10, WH 5

Wheely Bird notes ☆ (full intro)

It's wheely bird, not whirly bird.

Are the other candies alive?

"Nothing, we wanna do nothing."

'I would die for him', that sounds pretty gay.

"I just gotta protect Jimmy", that sounds pretty gay.

Forget about Freddy song.

I think Dr. B is just like that.

"All the good guys (...)", thousands died because of them.

And the trend of using real fire goes on.

Cling and Clang seem like toddlers.

Pufnstuf flirting with Orson joke.

Orson is one of those people.

"It worked too well, he's fallen in love with us!"

"Now, how do we get rid of our boyfriend?" (Not sure if that's an actual joke)

'I'm kidnapped and my first thought is Jimmy', these jokes write themselves.

'I would die for you!' 'I would die for you more!'

Another gay joke.

Are wands guns?

Forget about Freddy song, again!

This episode was gay.

I sure hope so!

W 10, F 12, WH 1

Show Biz Witch notes (full intro)

Judy's in the background doing what I do. (I think I ment stimming, but I'm not sure)

Jimmy's face.

They don't tell you about buttons until episode 3.

Jimmy says MC.

Pufnstuf saying weird things.

Love yourself like a witch.

A pear isn't square. (What?)

Dr. B and LL (Ludicrous Lion) are the only two that don't run off and instead hug each other.

I never realized how gay this show is.

Breaking up the band will come back later.

The idea that Witchiepoo has killed and is willing to kill.

Assault the guards, great morel for a kids' show!

'I cannot live without Jimmy.'

'We just threw someone into boiling water.'

Pufnstuf and Jimmy are kinda jerks in this one.

I sure hope so.

W 11, F 7, WH 4

Mechanical boy notes ☆ (full intro)

Wow, the Jimmy Diaries were based on something. (Old fanfic I wrote when I was 12)

First time (pretty sure only) Jimmy gets misgendered.

"Big dumb-o!"

Again with the real fire.

Cannon, Cling and Clang make bubbling sounds.

"I am sorry, I can not give out that information!" (ICONIC!)

How the hell do you know it's a time spell?

First time Jimmy gets brainwashed.

'Here Dr. B, take Freddy!' *throws Freddy*

Outside of backgrounds, first time we see the clock people.

"I have 24 hours." 'Jimmy, sit down.'

Pufnstuf is cute to the women of the island.

Time dohicky, only works once!

I love the Cuphead music in the background! (???)

I sure hope so.

W 15, F 10, WH 4

Stand in notes (full intro)

Very jarring, all of a sudden in wide screen. (That is on internet archive)

There's a second floor to Pufnstuf's cave.

Hi Shirley, thanks for confusing Pufnstuf lore.

The only Pufnstuf girl I didn't want to date.

It's as if they took all the pink and put it on her, she sticks out like a sore thumb.

"If it wasn't for this man," turns to Puf, "my producer, Toadinof!"

Shirley with her dead arms.

Jimmy's face.

Jimmy always plays the bad guy in Shirley's films.

Make up!

Jimmy and Pufnstuf saying goodbye makes me sad.

"I don't think of you as a woman, I think of you as a witch!"

Sweet karma with setup and payoff!

Again with real fire! At least it has a cute story. (Cute long story.)

Keep those cards and letters coming!

W 17, F 4, WH 7

Golden Key notes ☆ (full intro)

(This is a better magic path, sue me.)

This is hyping up a lot more than magic path, and we aren't even a minute in!

"A secret, genuine, escape map which leads to the golden key which opens the magic golden escape door." (Magic Path never that world building!)

"Quick, let's hide!" Someone found them in two seconds.

"Makes every war sound!"

Use the magic compass key!!!

At the end of the road, halfway through!

Does Witchiepoo use Amazon? (No!)

Jimmy sounded like he was in a horror movie.

They said it! They said it! (What did they say?!)

I sure hope so!

I really like this episode!

W 9, F 8, WH 3

Birthday! Notes ☆ 💔 (full intro)

Jimmy Diaries was based on something.

The camera's shaking like crazy.

Oh Jimmy, be happy! It won't last long.

This makes me feel really happy!

I love this song!

Now I'm mad cause Witchiepoo has to ruin it!

We're getting the band back together!

I'm really sad now.

Why can't this episode just be happy?

"When the witch finds out, *ha ha*, she's gonna kill me!" *laughs then faints*

This got really dark really fast.

At least Judy's in this one.

The witch is willing to kill a flute!

Very relevant.

The freaking puppets wear it (the masks) right.

Witchiepoo seems like such a Karen.

I sure hope so!

This broke my heart. 5 stars.

W 10, F 8, WH 2

Box kite kaper notes (full intro)

How much is a gold button worth? Is it like gold standard? (Fun fact, a normal button is worth $2.50 USD!)

LL is a gambler!

LL would pay off the four winds. (What context would lead to that?)

'Hey dad, can we get a box kite? For going home reasons.'

Jimmy just looked at Puf like he said an F bomb.

I love the Witchiepoo costumes.

There's a top level entrance. (Huh?)

(Drawing of a wand being broken I think?) Does it snap? (What?)

She's drugging them, again!

Like I said, it'll get harder to say goodbye.

Kite pun.

Don't say anything until you're safe!

Bomb an 12 year old!

Almost murder a 12 year old!

Joke from the movie.

I sure hope so!

Not very good, too much filler.

W 4, F 9, WH 2

No cake notes ☆ (full intro)

Judy! Moon walk! Argh!

When measles wasn't almost gone!

Maybe I should memorize it! (Refering to the moon walk, if I need to prove my endurance, I'll do it.)

Clang's hat tip.

"How stupid do they think I am?" "Very." "Very what?" "Very stupid."

"That's what I think, I think."

First full Judy episode since Magic Path!

"He's drunk with power!"

'I'm just gonna jump out and scare some toddlers!'

'Let's defeat them with dancing!'

And Judy is safe!

Keep those cards and letters coming!

I rank it Judy, I love her!

W 4, F 4, WH 10

Dinner for 2 notes (cut intro)

Time dohicky: probably not gonna go right!

Is it bad I can relate? (I think it's a note to loneliest witch but I'm not sure)

Jimmy, you're never going home.

Alright, it is stated he's 12.

"At least I think he's alive."

"Is that your nose, or are you eating a banana?"

Hot milk and cookies: the way to Jimmy's heart!

Find the witch a man! It's for your own sake!

Witchiepoo was a baby at some point!

Keep those cards and letters coming!

Meh, not very notable.

W 16, F 2, WH 1

Flute, Book, & Candle notes (full intro)

Terrible video quality. (This is on all platforms)

Mushrooms, just mushrooms.

Books can have siblings.

His name is just Candle.

Artful Dodger reference.

*kicks them* "Bye now!"

The book has a beard.

It just cut off half the song!

There was no see you next week!

Worst episode so far.

W 9, F 2, WH 3

A Tooth For A Tooth notes ☆ (cut intro)

So a love potion?

The fact that a witch raid is par for the course.

A doctor has to treat a patient.

"Yoo hoo, feathered medicine person!"

7:08 (on internet archive), this scene cracks me up.

The origin of the 'oh, my poor ace friend' meme. (Meme I created. It's not a real meme.)

Witchiepoo's face.

This episode's giving me tooth rot.

This was the closest he ever got to going home.

Keep those cards and letters coming!

I like it but I don't know what to say about it.

W 22, F 0, WH 11

Movie Episode notes ☆ (cut intro)

Slowed down, yay! 🙄 (on internet archive.)

Judy! And others.

Yay! Their gonna kill off horse!

If I get a kiss from Judy, Hell yeah I'll go! (No. Shut up. Don't don't do this to us.)

Stupid bat and horse have the same voice.

That means Judy has to leave... 😥

Another kiss?! Sign me up! (SHUT UP!)

Why do they have to say witch so much?

Buy our Pufnstuf plush!

Judy is the idea frog!

Jimmy does drag!

'How dare you say I'm not pretty.' (I think it was supposed to be an incorrect quote, but I'm not sure.)

*lifts up wand* *recoiled*

*breaks wand*

"I hereby banish you from Living Island, forever!" (Why can only boss witch do that?)

Keep those cards and letters coming!

W 69, F 0, WH 10

Election notes ☆ (full intro)

Slowed down (on internet archive), again!

No one wants to run against Pufnstuf.

"If a lumpy dragon can be mayor, why can't a pooped out pigeon?" (I'm not a dragon, I'm changeling!)

"We women have a right to change our minds!" Take that as you will!

Jimmy writes his own songs.

Judy!

Yeah, but Judy kissed you too! This is why I don't like horse. (No, you hate him because he's a backstabbing hypocrite and because of episode 10.)

"There's only one thing to do... PANIC!"

Jimmy shrugs.

'I'm a shooter and I'm running for president. See? I didn't bring my gun.'

The witch just did a Trump move.

'Uh, uh, he's honest!'

I love Pufnstuf sobbing.

You went down to her level!

Keep those cards and letters coming!

W 10, F 2, WH 2

Western Horse notes (full intro)

Horse has a crush on Shirley. Ugh...

You need to make money to get rid of the witch?

Freddy's a background character nowadays?

I forgot about the witch.

Nothing about Freddy. It's the forget about Freddy song all over again!

This is why I hate horse.

'Jimmy doesn't need to go home, let's make a movie!'

Not even a word about Freddy.

"I ain't Mary Poppins!"

"What happened to Horse and Shirley?" And Freddy.

Suicide joke! You know, for kids!

What happened to Freddy? I want my dude in distress!

"Now, I got the whole gang." What about Freddy?!?!

Keep those cards and letters coming.

😒 0/5

W 10, F 2, WH 1

♡ Jimmy who? Notes ☆ yes! (Full intro)

Jimmy falls and almost cracks his head open.

Horse.

"No, who's Jimmy?"

Yay! Freddy's back!

I love a jump cut.

"I'm an owl, I'm supposed to say who!"

'Jimmy, sit down.'

Birthday flashback.

'I'm getting outta here.' 'Jimmy, sit down.'

Artful Dodger flashback.

'Let's leave the kid who wants to leave alone! He totally won't leave!'

And Freddy's gone. Well, it was fun while it lasted!

The trees go into the castle.

They mentioned him! (Freddy)

Mechanical boy flashback.

Milk and cookies. Our hero, lady's and gents!

"Why did you break in here? Leave this poor lady alone!"

He chooses wrong!

'Witchiepoo who?'

Keep those cards and letters coming!

W 13, F 6, WH 4

And that is all my notes. That was so long. I'm sorry.

[skeletalheartattack]

what rank is lego skeleton?

count how many bones these three skeletons have and you'll guess the number correctly. except you have to multiply that number with a different number. solve for fucking X. we're bringing math questions back to tumblr babey

[timextoxhajima]

GEN Z SERIES, HYUNJAE: The Third Eye

"Will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

Member: Hyunjae

Genre: Fantasy / Slice of Life / Supernatural / Angst / TW

Trigger Warnings: Rape, Self-Harm

Word Count: 5.8k

Taglist: @yn-am-pm​ @fleurseoul​ @sunwoowuvbot​

The first time I knew I saw something that wasn't there, I was scared. How was an eight-year-old supposed to treat an elderly man who looked closer to a skeleton than a human being standing in the corner of the room... of an elderly's home?

I remember my mother combing my grandmother's hair while my father was helping me pick up my crayons off the floor when I saw him. Nurses were walking down the corridors in a hurry. I remember nobody noticed -- or at least, unlike the conventional way of death that has been portrayed in movies and books by the very cliché usage of the flatlining on the monitor. He had a good amount of hair for an old man in his nineties.

Then again, it might've been his deteriorating health that made him look older than he actually was when he died. Time seemed to pass a lot slower when they let me see them. Unlike the way his skin seemed to sink in between his ribs and wrap around the bones of his arms, his eyes were full of light. The kind that I recognised when I was at school. I didn't know then, because I was just a child he realised could see his soul. But I will never forget the blessing he placed on the top of my head. Every single word etched into my mind like carved into stone.

I told my grandmother about the man I saw earlier that day when my parents went to talk to the nurses of the elderly home. She was scared at first, when she realised her grandchild had abilities that not many had. Yet, she never told my parents, because she knew they would convince themselves that they could do something about it -- as if one could really remove the powers of a third eye all so easily.

Angels are not beings with wings or halos but instead, a bright orb of gold and white. The old man waved so dearly to me, after giving his children and grandchildren a kiss atop their heads though they couldn't feel it. He was 88, auspicious numbers in many cultures. Then when the orb of light drifted in through the window, I remember I could almost hear the sounds of kittens and puppies. But just as it neared him, I heard the familiar sounds of laughter from his children and grandchildren, then static sounds of radio and music I didn't recognise. I will later find out that the music belonged in the 40s.

The orb presents you with everything you've loved and enjoyed and held close to your heart in your life, and should you be content with what the orb has to offer you, then it must be time for you to go.

But where there is light, there is darkness. Where there are orbs of smiles and flowers, there are daggers of blood and evil lurking in the shadows. I was 13 when I saw evil in one of its many forms. I had a headache the entire day, a sign to tell me that my third eye is in close proximity with something that did not align with my believes and morals.

I had expected something to jump out at me through the reflection off the mirror, or a hand to burst through the ground and grab me by the ankle. But no, evil in one of its many forms does not need it to be horrifying and scary.

Her hair was long, and her face was covered in what looked like burn marks. 

Does Hell burn through you so quickly? 

She looks human, but her fingers were split down the middle, thorns sticking out every finger, in which on each hand she has ten.

As she graced the corridors of school, she sheds these thorns that drop like nails to the floor, waiting for someone to step on those facing upwards. Have you ever gotten a sharp ache or pinch in the soles of your feet when you're walking sometimes?

If you have, then you would've probably stepped on a Hell's Thorn, or at least, that's what I called it. I never found out if she could see me, but when I realised I could touch the thorns and kick them out of sight, they'd roll off into some corner before dissolving into red ash.

Over a decade of being stuck between two worlds. I've done enough reading to understand the dangers of prancing along this line, not being able to shut one side off completely. So, when the ghosts, demons and spirits hide in the shadows of my room, or stare at me point-blank in the middle of the day like a normal human being would, it becomes normal.

They are everywhere, even when you cannot feel them. It gets confusing, when they look more human than some human beings. 

Just how much longer... or how much more can I stay like this?

"I don't know where your diary is. If you're telling me it's here, then I'm telling you it's gone."

You are standing right smack in the middle of the school field, afternoon sun beaming down onto your hair. Squinting your eyes, you look around the large space of artificial grass and beyond that, the tracks, where students were finding some fun in running laps in the summer heat.

"But..."

"Lee Eun," Your heart breaks, more than necessary, because this is not the first time you've done it. "What you're looking for isn't here. The building your locker was in was torn down 20 years ago and if it was there, it's gone now. Or at least..." She watches you turn around and stare at the ground beneath your feet. "It's not here anymore."

Lee Eun was a student from your school that graduated in 2000. But she lost her life the day she graduated, only because she hadn't seen the brick falling from the nearby construction site where the school building you attended now was being built.

The silence becomes unbearable so you look up, but you only see the two male students jogging along the track and nobody else in sight. The orb did not come to collect Lee Eun's soul; this is not over.

The sweat has stuck your uniform to your back when you return to class, and it becomes apparent to you that a particular shadow has not shifted an inch since you've stepped into the classroom. You weren't in pain, so this entity is not a demon. Yet, you cannot identify its gender. It had no face, no hair, just... a volume of shadow and darkness and if the girls sitting before it knew it was there, they'd probably scream their head off. 

You know its staring at you with every intention in its spirit, though you cannot see its eyes. And it stays when the teacher enters the classroom with a new student trailing behind him. For a moment, your attention is diverted to Jang Jun Hyuk, hair brown and skin fair. The girls in the class were already ogling over him, it's not a surprise anymore. But the shadow turns to look at him, then at you, and the darkness dissolves into the beige wall behind it, vanishing as Jang Jun Hyuk bows and introduces himself.

Then the king of the class speaks at a volume you know you weren't supposed to hear, but consider it a special talent now that you've honed the skills of your third eye.

"Strange vibes," Lee Hyunjae was probably talking to Younghoon. "Don't you think there's something off about him?"

"Are you sure you're not just threatened that there's someone who rivals our popularity?"

Jang Jun Hyuk bows to the class, then is instructed by the teacher to take a seat diagonally behind you, right in front of Lee Hyunjae.

"Hey, new kid."

A frown gently presses itself into your forehead when you can hear Younghoon give Hyunjae a gentle whack on his shoulder.

"Where did you move from?"

"Ah, I moved from another city. My father was transferred."

The shadow was now standing by the door of the classroom, watching the teacher scribble on the whiteboard.

"Cool," Hyunjae offers a friendly laugh. That's more like him. "Join us at lunch, provided you don't have a crowd to hang out with yet."

“Uh, sure.”

The shadow turns to look at you -- even without eyes, you know it’s watching you. 

By the time you have been dragged to the cafeteria by your friends (though most people tend to think you’re weird for talking to yourself sometimes), Hyunjae has doubled over on some bench cracking up at a joke Jun Hyuk made. 

Your friends can’t help but to draw your attention to the new addition to the group of popular males. 

“Man fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

“At least he looks like one of them.”

“y/n,” One of the two call out to you. “What happened to... what was her name?”

“Lee Eun.”

“Right, the ghost from twenty years ago. How is she?” 

The two look at you with wide, glistening eyes. Most people aren’t as accommodating to your abilities, so it’s a blessing to have them by your side. 

“I haven’t seen her since earlier today. She said she had a diary in school but she never found it.”

“Well, maybe it is still in school somewhere, locked up in some lost and found box or lost in some locker. Why else would she still be here and can’t... you know, move on?”

You shrug. I wish I knew.

The library was always comforting. The silence, the sound of pages being flipped and the occasional clicking of someone’s keyboard. And strangely enough, the library’s never really a hotspot for other beings except humans.

The peace was, unfortunately, disrupted though, when Jun Hyuk shows up with his backpack and tie neat around his collar. You greet him subtly before returning to your notes, but he sits down opposite you and renders your desire to be alone useless.

“Hyunjae and Younghoon told me you would be here.”

The pen in your grip gets lowered into the ivory sheets, gaze travelling up to look at him through your lashes. “Lee Hyunjae and Kim Younghoon? Why would they tell you where I am?”

Jun Hyuk offers a shy smile, diverting his brown irises away from you for a second. “Because I asked.”

The cold air stings your nose when you suck in a deep breath. “Why, do you need help with work? Because I’m literally the worst person to ask--”

“No, I just needed to know where I could find you so I could spend time with you.”

Your heart begins to thump madly, because it’s not everyday that a guy is so straightforward with his intentions to someone he just met. 

“Uh--” You purse your lips in a bid to form a coherent sentence. “That’s really... honest of you.”

Jun Hyuk grins sweetly, eyes halving into crescents and creasing his skin around his lids. He has a dimple in his left cheek, a detail that you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you. 

“So, can I?”

Confusion strikes you, only because assumption is a dangerous thing we like to do. 

“Can you... what?”

“Hang out with you.”

The whir of the air-conditioner in the library becomes a little louder alongside the thumping that was now difficult to ignore in your head. 

The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you can feel your face catching fire, so Jun Hyuk eases it by restarting a conversation.

“Anyway, have you done the work from today?”

“I--” You look down at the worksheet he was taking out from his bag. It’s barely filled. “I’ve been staring at it for awhile now--”

“Not good at Math?”

“I’m better at...” Jun Hyuk takes the worksheet and gets up, scooting over to the seat next to you. A gulp finds a way down your throat. “...English and Literature...”

“Well, it’s your lucky day because I’m great at Math.”

Up close, Jin Hyuk smells like fresh linen. 

Not a great sign. He knows what makes a girl tick. 

Jun Hyuk spends the rest of the afternoon helping you with the worksheet, and the glimmer in his eyes...

“Are you listening?”

Your jaw slacks in surprise, blinking your attention away from staring at him. A chuckle sounds from Jun Hyuk, who looks away with the slightest hint of pride.

Jun Hyuk makes you feel like you are prancing on clouds for the next few weeks. The little notes he passed in class that earned the attention of his new friends, Younghoon and Hyunjae. The sweets and treats that he’d leave on your desk before school and the after-school study sessions were your favourite part of the day. 

He’d expected you to be calm and collected when he took the initiative to hold your hand under the table, but he could read how nervous and anxious you got, so he thinks it’s a good idea to ease that anxiety with a kiss on your cheek. 

Lee Eun was no longer around to ask you for her diary, but the faceless shadow was still tailing you when you were in the classroom. It’s never interfered with your daily routine though, thus you choose to leave it be and enjoy being a normal teenager for once. 

Three months after you met Jun Hyuk though, you could tell Hyunjae was deliberately steering away from him, dragging Younghoon along with him. You can’t help but wonder if it was because you and Jun Hyuk were now romantically involved and that Hyunjae had probably caught wind of the fact that you could see things that weren’t there, leading him to ostracise Jun Hyuk. 

Not that it had that much effect anyway, Jun Hyuk was a charming boy on his own; he didn’t need Hyunjae’s help to ‘make it’ in school.

The day carries on as per usual with Jun Hyuk staying in school to study with you. Hands busy scribbling away and eyes darting across worksheets, you’ve always admired how focussed he gets when he does his work. 

In attempt to pull him out of his stress-bubble, you cap on your pen and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder after making sure there was nobody else left in the library. 

“Do you want to take a break? You’ve been going at it for quite some time now.”

“I’m just about there, just hold on a minute, would you?”

A pout surfaces on your lips. “I know. I just... do you ever feel bad that Hyunjae and Younghoon aren’t as close to you as before?”

Jun Hyuk finishes the line he’s writing and looks up at you. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know, I just... you must’ve heard the rumor that I can see ghosts. Aren’t you upset that they might be leaving you out because of that?”

“You can see ghosts?” He scoffs. His attitude feels strange today, though he hasn’t said anything wrong. “That’s just stupid. And no, I don’t really care.”

“Oh,” A pause halts you, so you can think of an appropriate response. “You don’t... believe in ghosts or spirits?”

“No, that stuff is for kids.”

The thought of Jun Hyuk not believing in something you were known to be able to see was strangely more discomforting than not.

“Why’d you ask about Hyunjae and Younghoon? I thought you weren’t close with those guys?” He’s placing his pens into his pencil case and keeping his worksheets in his file. You start doing the same. 

“I-- I’m not, I’m just asking for your sake.”

“My sake?” He clears the table of his items and leans back in his seat. “Why would it bother me? Is it because you don’t get to talk to them anymore?”

“What? Why would that matter to me?”

“I don’t know, you were pretty smitten with Hyunjae just a few weeks ago.”

“Since when?”

“You think I didn’t notice when you were smiling at him when he was making those jokes-- they weren’t even that funny?”

A frown has finally cemented itself between your brows. “I’m sorry, where is this jealousy even coming from? Why didn’t you just tell me when you saw it?”

Jun Hyuk goes silent, and you can tell he’s upset just by thinking about it. Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder again in a bid to appease his anger. 

“Alright, I’m sorry, okay? I was just concerned that you might feel left out or anything. And rest assured, I wasn’t flirting with Hyunjae.”

Jun Hyuk hums in response, reaching your chin to pull you closer. Your heart starts to pound in your ear when he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours, the sudden intimacy catching you off-guard and sending chills down your spine. 

Something doesn’t feel right.

“Jun--” You manage to cough out, just as he starts to bury his nose and lips into your neck. “Jun Hyuk, not here.”

“Come on, there’s nobody here. Isn’t it exciting?” He smirks into your skin but it makes you feel dirty. 

“Jun, we really shouldn’t. I’m tired today so...” Gently pushing him off, his eyes are now filled with the ache of rejection. Somewhere inside you, you hope that he understands. But you also hope he knows he’s being an asshole.

“I... I think I’m going to go,” Backing away, you can hear your heart in your ears as you reverse, returning to the table to clear your stationery. His footsteps come dangerously close behind you before you are yanked around violently, each of your elbows coming into tight restraint in his palms. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going home,” When your eyes meet his, they are dark under the lighting. And even then, it seems like the man you trusted had turned to dust and blown away in the wind. “Please, let me go.”

“But don’t you trust me? Didn’t you say that you didn’t know what you’d do without me?” It’s horrifying when his nose comes dangerously closely to yours, his lips that were once part of a daydream now slowly being torn to shreds, forming an idea of a nightmare in your mind. 

If you could feel darkness, you were sure you could hurl out nothing but black masses, when he aggressively pastes his lips to yours. There’s a stark difference being in love and being trustworthy... and being this person who was cutting off the blood supply from your face to your mouth now. 

“Let me go, please!” Your strength is rendered useless in his tight grip around your wrists, and now he decides to shift his tongue to your neck, harshly sucking on the skin and flesh and making you want to hurl and sob instead. The struggle you offered was of no use to Jun Hyuk, not when he is able to shove you backwards and plaster your back to the study desk with all your pens and pencils under your back. 

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?!” 

“You should’ve thought about that before you kissed me first in the garden the other day, no?”

The tears finally stream when the betrayal sets in. Not even prayers would work anymore, would they?

Using his upper body weight to hold you to the table, the metal clinking of his belt comes like a warning when you can feel the tears wetting the strands of your hair. 

“Jun Hyuk, please...”

“Shut up,” Ice cold fingers run up the length of your thighs and around your hips under your skirt, scratching your skin as he removes your underwear. “Isn’t this how much you trust me?”

Sobs run through gritted teeth as your chin tilts to the ceiling, his body absorbing every ounce of struggle and force you were exerting on him. But, it was so easily drained into him that you were gradually turning limp and lifeless. Hearing him undo his zipper while he wets and marks your skin with his tongue and teeth shuts off all your senses. Your eyes flutter shut with resignation, the shivering and trembling seeping away with your need to escape. 

Help me. 

Something fuses loudly. The lights go off. 

“Who’s there?! Motherfucker!” 

The zip goes back up, and the weight on you shifts away. 

“I’m going to kill you!”

His voice wears away, getting softer with his footsteps. 

Still crying, you pull up your underwear that was dangling at your ankles and push yourself off the surface of the table. Everything on the desk gets swept into your back before you stumble out of the secluded study area, the light of the late sunset greeting your tear stained face. 

Reaching home feels like reaching the end point in a marathon, just that instead of feeling pride and glory, you were feeling nothing but worthlessness. 

The lukewarm water feels like a gentle hug around your body when you sink into the cold marble, knees propped up and surfaced with your feet flat against the base of the bathtub. 

Swollen eyes from crying but too tired to cry somemore, and you find difficulty in even remembering why you even fell for Jun Hyuk in the first place.

It was my fault for bringing it up. I shouldn’t have brought it up. 

Maybe if I didn’t have this gift then I didn’t need to ask or worry about Jun Hyuk being ostracised. Maybe it shouldn’t be called a gift after all.

This pain is temporary, right? This small blade can do more than ease the pain. This blood that colors the water can do more than dry the tears from my eyes.

I wish I wasn’t born with this gift. 

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the tub, under the surface of the water. The water starts to feel thicker, and before you can count to five, it starts going up your nose. 

But then it feels like you’ve been sucked into another dimension and thrown back onto your bed when you gasp, sitting up and choking out what feels like water in your throat. 

Your hands fumble around yourself, and you wince when you look down at your wrists. The vertical cut looked more like a scar that’s already healed, rather than an injury you had chosen to inflict on yourself just hours before.

The clock strikes 3.33am, and while you would usually be kind of freaked out because 3 is not an auspicious number, you can’t help but to feel some kind of relief when you realised you were still alive. 

The next few days you spend in the shadows. Jun Hyuk tries to apologise to you on more than one occasion, but when you glitch and nearly break down when he gets anywhere near you, your friends start to understand that something had happened.

Why would you want to take your life all of a sudden?

Mr. Shadowman doesn’t leave you alone though. Instead, it starts following you more aggressively, showing up in the strangest of places and in the most horrendous positions. You had seen it standing with its feet planted to the ceiling of the cafeteria, then again standing perfectly still behind the classroom door when the teacher closed it. 

Then it finally follows you into the bathroom after school. You’ve changed your studying location to your classroom, so you wouldn’t need to worry about being alone.

But no matter how many times you see this shadow, seeing it curled up under the sink in the female’s toilet makes you yelp and jump backwards, not even enticing a reaction from it. 

“You...” Gripping the edge of the sink, you squat and stare at it. “What do you need from me?”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere nearer to it if I were you.” Your eyes dart up into the broken glass above the sink. Seeing Hyunjae staring at you through the reflection, with the pillar hiding the rest of his body was surprising. 

It dawns on you that whatever you were seeing, Hyunjae could see it too.

The shadow remained still under the sink, crouched into a mass like someone holding its knees to its chest. The water dripping from under the sink slips through the mass like it wasn’t there. Hyunjae spares you a few seconds to stare at it some more until he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the toilet.

“What the-- don’t touch me--” Yanking your wrist out of his hands, you jerk away from him. The impact pulls your sleeves upwards, revealing the bruises that Jun Hyuk had left on you just a few days ago -- and the scar of the cut down your forearm. 

His attention is stolen by the marks, cuing you to nervously pull your sleeves back down as you steal a glance at Hyunjae’s face. 

“Don’t interact with that thing,” He advises after a few moments of silence. “It’s been following you.”

Looking up with a harsh frown on your face, confusion and anger starts to seep through your bones. 

“You mean to tell me you could see these things all this while?”

Hyunjae’s eyes fill with a tiny pinch of guilt, but he doesn’t look away. 

“That thing is harmless,” Your thumb brushes across the area where the bruise was hidden under the material of your sleeve. “It saved me.”

“If it’s harmless or any bit human then why doesn’t it have a face? Or eyes or hair or a mouth?”

“So, you can’t see what it is either. Have you seen others? Ghosts, the angel orbs, demons--”

“Get this clear in your head, I am not here to discuss what you can see,” Hyunjae takes a step closer and looks at you with an expression you can’t read. Was he angry? Frustrated? Worried? Concerned?

“But do not engage with whatever that is. They only stick around if you entertain it, and right now, you are just short of becoming friends with it.”

“You make it sound like you know everything about that other world.”

“And you make it sound like you haven’t seen a demon and that there are no dangers of it.”

The proximity starts to make you anxious; his build is similar to Jun Hyuk’s and the physical confrontation starts to knock on your skull is all the ways possible. Hyunjae retreats when he notices your eyes are unable to meet his now, and he walks away with his fists clenched. 

That night, you are unable to fall asleep. Not with the new revelation that Hyunjae can see the same things you do. Or was it just the shadow that he can see?

Has he seen the orbs or angels or demons?

You sit up in your bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness when a thud wakes you up. The crickets outside are loud in the silent night, but it takes you just a split second to recognise the shadow standing in the corner where the door meets the corner of the room. 

Keeping your eyes peeled, you fumble around at your nightstand, searching for the button of the lamp. It doesn’t disappear though, when the amber light illuminates the cream-pink room. 

“What do you need?” The query comes out more like a whisper, because most spirits you meet are ghosts who need your help or are willing to talk to you -- most of them have faces and eyes and have some resemblance to being human at some point of time in their life. 

The shadow pulls itself off the wall, and turns from a flat, regular shadow into a mass of darkness; the same way it was in the classroom when you first saw it, then later under the sink in the bathroom. 

This is the first time this has happened -- a shadow that was very obviously a being and yet you cannot decide if it was something harmful or something that once walked the Earth. 

By now, the shadow is just about two metres away from your bed, yet you find yourself inching backwards because you cannot predict what it would (or could) do to you. 

Then it lifts an arm that reaches out to you, darkness flowing like steam off its limbs as it gets closer to you. But just before it can touch you, a flash of brightness interrupts your interaction.

“Stop.”

Your room is brightly lit up for a split second, blinding you from seeing the shadow. So when your eyes come back into focus, your eyes are about to fall out of your skull when you recognise the back of someone you know. 

Hyunjae was standing right next to your bed, between you and the shadow, now visibly a physical  blob of darkness. 

“You have no business here with her. You don’t even need to be here.”

Silence. 

Hyunjae looks at the shadow intently. He is listening to it talk to him, but you hear nothing but the crickets chirping outside. 

“Jang Jun Hyuk will be mine to deal with, not yours. You do not need to be here.”

Lee Hyunjae... just what are you?

“Seer but is she a...”

“What did you just say?” You blurt out when the strange croak gets to your head. Hyunjae flinches and turns around to look at you, eyes flickering with worry before turning back to the shadow.

Now, you can see blue orbs for eyes and skin pulled and stretched like it had been worn out through hundreds of years. It was neither a ghost nor human. 

It didn’t look like Lee Eun or the elderly man you saw when you were 8, nor did it look like the female demon you saw at 13. 

“Leave, you do not belong here.”

“To deserves she know.”

“Know what?” Impatience and fear was getting the better of you, and if Hyunjae was more than human, he would know. “...That I can see you?”

“No, she cannot know!” Hyunjae tries to block you from the ghoul. “That is not your place to tell her!”

The ghoul proves more powerful than Hyunjae and reaches right through him, creating a bright outline of his limb through Hyunjae’s chest. 

“No!” 

That was the last thing you hear just as the shadow touches your forehead, snapping your neck backwards and sending your memory into a dimension you cannot recognise. 

“You will be blessed with eternal protection.”

That was the blessing the elderly man offered you when you were eight. Little did you know that he was merely reading a blessing pinned to your existence on its own. 

"The son of Saint Michael had fallen in love with the fairy of the mortals. Saint Michael hadn’t offered the tiniest bit of worry or concern over his son becoming star-crossed lovers. Angels were meant to be with angels and fairies with fairies... Granted that even if you did know about his son’s feelings, you would eventually realise that it was against the laws of the world, for you were a gateway for the Good to seep into the mortal world. But what Saint Michael did not know was that the fairy his son had fallen in love with had stored the same amount of love he had for her in his heart.” 

“The Heavens forbid star-crossed lovers between the two breeds of beings. Saint Michael himself couldn’t believe it when his son caved into his feelings right after you did. Fairies were fickle-minded; the only beings of the world of immortals that once walked the Earth as human beings. It was expected that you would provide the same love to the Archangel’s son -- but when he decided to embrace you in his all-gold halo of light... Saint Michael knew he could not afford losing the bearings of his son. He had decided that mortalising you would be a smart decision; keeping you close by letting you protect your ability to connect with this world but restraining you from ever returning to Hyunjae’s side.”

“Yet, like mortals, even immortal beings are unable to fight the strength of love. Hyunjae had decided descend to the world of the Humans and Mortals... to protect you by your side in your second life, allowing you to see him, touch him.”

The day you were reborn was the day Hyunjae had decided to humanise himself, albeit the process was draining and set him on a ticking clock from returning to the other world.

The ghoul looks at you, his blue eyes now revealing himself as a fairy who had disguised himself, in a bid to warn you before you had sold your heart to Hyunjae, something you cannot be with.

“You are paying the price for a fault that was his, do you not bear any resentment?”

The memories return. Flashes of Hyunjae smiling at you because he knew you could see him. The kisses that stained his skin because you were a mere mortal with abilities, and he was a being that was meant for more. 

“How is this his fault?”

The fairy is silent, thinking of the words to say. 

“Had he lived up to the responsibilities of being the son of Saint Michael, he wouldn’t have caved in.”

Your hair feels light around your shoulders, watching the fairy slowly morph into something less ambiguous. 

“What would have happened if we didn’t fall in love in my first life?”

The fairy had grown wings that looks like glass, reflecting light into seven colors into the abyss beyond you. He looks at you, blue eyes never faltering. 

“You would’ve become an Undine Fairy, and Hyunjae would’ve had to return to the world of the Skies--”

“And I would never see him again.”

He can see that you’ve had a glimpse into your past life; the forbidden love you had for Hyunjae now buried deep inside you. It feels like someone had just stuck a shovel 6 feet into your heart and dug out every remnant he could find. 

“Would you have let him go, had he been true to his existence and you had become an Undine?”

“There’s no way I can answer that, can I?”

The fairy blinks and starts walking backwards. “The rules between the two Worlds are forged in stone, but everybody knows that the matters of the spirit and soul cannot be bound by tangible logic. Your choice depends on what you believe: will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

The question echoes inside your head, and the world around you flashes brightly like you had just died and walked into heaven.

Your consciousness returns to current time, eyes fluttering open as your alarm clock rings you awake. Sitting opposite you, eyes closed as you watch him snoozing lightly despite sitting in a chair, you feel a pinch in your chest. 

It’s not his fault, and never will be. 

[wastelandcth]

spooky baskets - cth

anon requested: u can use this for a blurb if you want but I was just:( thinking of dovey and cal packing care packages to all their friends in quarantine and since they live together and take care of each other all the time it's kinda pointless to make ones for each other but each of them does that without the other knowing:( and they're like ~surprised but not really since they're soulmates so they could have seen it coming~ but the things inside??? so precious omg:(

summary: spending halloween season in quarantine means that Dovey has to resort to other fun ideas, like spooky baskets. 

author’s notes: thank you to the anon who requested this! i know quarantine has been a hard time for everyone (trust me, i know) but i hope this blurb brings a little joy to these uncertain times. 

masterlist || request

As the weather switched from the hot summer heatwaves into the cooler nights where Dovey was finally able to sit outside in the backyard wearing a sweater without wanting to melt, she knew that eventually, the seasonal sadness that crept its way into Calum's soul would come. She knew it would mean that as the sun set earlier and came out later in the day, Calum's mood would change and the already quiet personality he had would be heightened. So she'd come up with a plan to get him out and be productive while still being safe and socially distant from the crowds of people that seemed to think the pandemic was over. 

"Hey Dove, do you think we could pop over to the store tomorrow? I was thinking we could make care packages for everyone, it's been almost two months since we last saw anyone in person and I think it'd be a nice surprise for them." she had offered while they both ate dinner, a rerun of a show playing softly out from the television. "I was thinking we could make them spooky baskets!" 

"Spooky baskets?" Calum asked softly and chuckled, raising an eyebrow at his wife as he looked up from his bowl of roasted veggie pasta. "What are spooky baskets?"

"Oh you know, they're like care packages but they're themed to Halloween! It'll be nice for everyone to have a little Halloween basket. We could get them some candy, pumpkin spice stuff, oh! Fuzzy socks and maybe even like wine." she nodded excitedly and chuckled. 

And that's exactly what Dovey and Calum found themselves doing the very next day. Dovey had woken Calum up with some banana protein pancakes he'd been meaning to try for the past couple of weeks and a cup of coffee. She'd been excited to go out ever since Calum had agreed that care packages for their friends would be a nice way to celebrate Halloween in the current state the world was in. So with both of them wearing a mask and Dovey's bag stocked with a bottle of hand sanitizer and wipes, they made their way into Target to browse for anything they could use for their spooky baskets. 

It wasn't long before their cart was filled with candy, gummies, multiple bottles of wine, and anything that Calum and Dovey deemed appropriate for a spooky basket. Dovey had even managed to sneak in a couple of items for Calum, who she was sure hadn't noticed as he'd been too busy looking for things the band would like. Calum however, had been too busy looking for things that Dovey would appreciate, having snuck an extra orange pumpkin bucket that he knew she would never notice since she wasn't the best at simple math. By the time they had reached the self-checkout and had managed to hide each other's presents from one another, they were in the car sanitizing their hands and driving back home. 

"I think Ashton would prefer to have the socks and Michael would enjoy the hand lotion," Calum said as they sorted through bags of Halloween themed self-care. "Maybe we could give Luke the set of nail polish? I know he's been itching to get his nails done but doesn't want to risk it by going out to a salon." 

It went on like that for a while, Dovey showing Calum a pair of socks or a shirt or any of the other things they'd bought for their friends and then they'd both discuss who they thought it would be best for. Soon enough, they had a line of spooky baskets on their dining table and all they had to do was finish writing on their Halloween themed cards which Dovey had specifically picked out for every single one of the baskets. 

"Do you mind finishing up the cards? You have a way with words, I would just say something weird and you're poetic. I'm going to take a shower and then we can watch a movie?" Dovey asked as she handed Calum the stack of envelopes and cards, walking down the hallway to their bedroom where she had hidden the bag filled with everything she'd gotten Calum for his basket before he had time to even notice. 

Calum sighed in relief as he saw Dovey walk away into their bedroom, waiting a few moments before he made his way over to his office where he'd hidden his bag of treats for Dovey under the desk. He worked silently, arranging everything he'd snuck into their shopping cart while Dovey had been distracted looking at homeware and Halloween mugs, and when he was finally done, he set the basket back under his desk before making his way back over to the dining table to finish up writing the cards for their friends. 

The next day, the morning sky was grey and the cold air had made its way in through the bedroom window that Dovey had insisted stay open throughout the night. Calum wished he could've stayed in bed all day, knowing that there was nothing he and Dovey could do either. Tour had been rescheduled and all their trips and vacations had been put on hold, with no guarantee of when he could fly back home to see his parents or even fly to London to see his sister. He'd rather stay in bed and sleep the day away, knowing there was nothing else to do but stay home and stay safe. Dovey, however, had different plans and when he heard music playing from somewhere in the house, Calum knew she'd come in with plans to take on the day. It wasn't too long after Calum had woken up that Dovey walked into their bedroom, holding two mugs with coffee and the smile that Calum knew he could count on seeing every day. 

"Ready to deliver spooky baskets?" she asked as she sat down next to him in bed and handed a skeleton mug over to him. 

A few hours later, after many sneaky deliveries of spooky baskets, Calum found himself in Dovey's arms while they laid on the couch. He'd been taking a nap, the cold air from outside had seeped into his bones and he'd been in Dovey's arms covered by a blanket to chase off the cold. She'd been watching television while he slept, her fingers raking through the curls which had grown out ever since the start of a lockdown. His short hair transitioning from a pink that Dovey had been obsessed with to a blonde quiff that made him look golden, and now into a mess of brown curls that she couldn't help but run her fingers through whenever she got the chance to. It wasn't until she felt Calum's lips on her shoulder that she realized he was waking up from the nap he'd accidentally fallen into. 

"I have a surprise for you," Dovey whispered into Calum's hair, a soft kiss pressing onto his forehead which brought Calum back down to Earth and into his lover’s arms. "Need to get it from our room though, I'll be right back." 

Calum was still half asleep as he sat up and watched Dovey wander off to their bedroom. He let out a yawn and let himself stretch out onto the couch, his eyes closing again as his mind tried recalling whatever dream he'd been having a few minutes ago. It had made him warm, flashes of Dovey's smile and her laughter mixed in with little ones chasing after Duke. He knew if he kept his eyes closed for a while longer he'd slip back into the dream and stay a little while longer. 

"Dove?" At first, it seemed like Calum had slipped into his dreamworld and the love of his life was roaming the halls of a house filled with love and kid's toys, but as he felt a hand on his cheek, his eyes opened again and he was met with Dovey's eyes, who seemed to hide the excitement. "I have something for you." 

Calum's eyes wandered down to Dovey's lap, which was currently holding an orange basket that was filled with flowers, candy, and gift-wrapped boxes. Calum's yawn was met by a laugh from Dovey who placed the basket in his lap, her body practically bouncing in place as she waited for him to open everything. Inside the basket, Calum unpacked a new coffee mug with a painted dog wearing a sheet over it making it look like a ghost, a blanket which was so soft Calum was surprised that Dovey hadn't kept it herself, and along with some more candy and snacks that Calum loves, he found a new journal with a polaroid picture of Dovey and Calum inside of the cover. 

"Sweet girl, this is amazing. I, I can't thank you enough for this." Calum nodded and pulled her into his arms, "I have a surprise for you too, you know? Guess great minds think alike." he chuckled and set the basket down to go grab Dovey's own spooky basket from his office. 

Dovey couldn't hold back the laughter in as she saw Calum walking into the living room holding a basket that resembled the one she had made for him, filled with goodies and self-care needs she loved. When Calum handed her the basket, she looked through it, her own heart swelling as she unpacked candles, lotions, and all the sour gummy worms she could dream of. It was everything a spooky basket should've been and all she could do was pull Calum into a kiss. 

It wasn't until a while later when candles had been lit on the coffee table and the Doves were laying in each other’s arms under the world's softest blanket that the group chat all of the guys and their partners were in started to go off, with pictures of the baskets Calum and Dovey had worked hard on. Calum couldn't help but chuckled as he read through the messages his friends had sent to them, answering their praises with memes he had saved from conversations with Dovey. It wasn't until he heard a sleepy whine coming from Dovey that he realized she was asleep and the constant buzzing from her phone was probably going to wake her up soon.  With a goodnight to the group chat and with fall candles being blown out and covered, Calum carried Dovey over into their bedroom and laid her down in be, making sure that the window was open before he laid down and closed his eyes, yearning for dreams of Dovey and the big house filled with laughter, love, and spooky baskets. 

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Picture Perfect Memories

December 2, 2021

Prompt - Fairy Lights

Characters - Cabin Crew

Notes - I aspire to have fairy lights on every wall of my room, just saying 😊

December 2nd,

It’s so nice to be in the cabin again. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much I love this place. We didn’t do much of anything last night as we’d gotten in pretty late again, but that was fine. I sat by the fire with Bentley and we watched some Hallmark movie about a king falling in love with some girl who teaches ice skating. It was pretty good, but I fell asleep near the end and never got to watch them actually get together so I can’t say whether the ending was good or not. We’re going to start decorating our rooms today with stuff Aunt Mack plans on bringing from the attic. Mick says there’s some stuff Bentley and I’d probably want that she’d kept over the years, but I’m not so sure her complete collection of Dork Diaries books is something I’d be interested in.

Royce’s journal was left on his dresser as he left his and Bentley’s bedroom, having been called to the living room so they could go through boxes. The fireplace was lit and crackling softly as the TV above it played Christmas music. Mack and Mick were searching through boxes, pulling out some candles here and some cookbooks there. Brady had pulled out a sketchbook of his from high school and was showing Butchy and Miles some of his original sketches for different projects he’d made over the years. Then there was Bentley.

Bentley was sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by pictures and a few cameras. Once he saw his older brother, the youngest Murphy brother perked up, waving Royce over. “Look at these!” he exclaimed as he gestured to the photographs.

“What are they?” Royce asked as he joined his brother on the floor and picked through some of the pictures.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what they are, RJ,” Bentley teased as he tossed a couple of photos in his brother’s direction.

Royce scoffed, rolling his eyes before smiling down at one of the pictures. It was an old Christmas picture, torn-up snowman wrapping paper surrounding a tiny Mick who smiled cheesily up at the photographer. Mick’s hair at the time reached her waist and was significantly curlier than it was now, but her eyes and cheesy smile hadn't changed in the slightest. In her hands was a stuffed elephant that Royce recalled seeing in her bedroom back in California although, nowadays, it had a re-stitched ear and a heart-shaped fabric sewn on its chest from where it had been stuffed back up again after being fairly flattened.

The next picture Bentley handed him was one of Brady in his shed workshop, holding a hand out toward the camera with a shocked look on his face. If you looked close enough at the picture, you could see the skeleton of what would later be the machine they used to go between worlds. Half of the machine was there; segments of the metal framework surrounded by what looked like plexiglass while other sections were just plain metal, waiting to be dressed up and painted. It was obvious by the height of the person, that the photographer had been Mick.

Another picture had all of the Birch family and three people Royce and Bentley had never seen before, Mick and the little boy in the picture sitting next to each other with a cake on the table between them. After asking Mack who the others were, they discovered it was some of their family friends - Devon, Jamie, and their son, Hudson. It had been a birthday celebration.

Bentley reached into the picture box as Royce inspected the cameras, pulling out a couple of photo albums and a bundle of lights with tiny, clear clips attached to the strands of wires. “Oh, my gosh!” Mick exclaimed with a squeal. “You found my old fairy lights!”

“Fairy lights?” Bentley asked as he pulled some of the lights from their wound-up circle. “I thought these were for the Christmas tree.”

Mick rose from the couch and stepped around the coffee table, taking the lights from Bentley with a smile. “These are exactly like that, but you can hang this kind on your bedroom wall and clip pictures to it.”

“That’s so cool,” Royce claimed, poking one of the clips. “What color are the lights?”

Mick hummed thoughtfully, handing Bentley the lights and searching through the box for a moment before pulling out a small remote. She asked Bentley to plug the lights into a wall socket before tapping one of the buttons on the remote. “They could be the normal yellow-y white, or rainbow, or just solid colors,” she claimed, changing the lights with her remote as she spoke. “These were so fun to play with. It was fun year-round since you could have them change colors with the seasons.”

“Wow,” Bentley said, watching the lights in his arms slowly change from green to blue. “Where did you get these?”

Mick shrugged, handing Royce the remote before returning to her seat. “They were at the mall a few years ago. I think they sell them online still, but not in-store.” Both boys nodded slowly as the idea of getting their own strings of lights slowly went down the drain. “If you guys like them so much, you can have them.”

“Really?” Bentley asked as he looked up from the lights. “But they’re yours?”

“They are,” Mick agreed as she picked up her cup of hot cocoa, “but I don’t use them anymore and they need to go to someone who will. If you want, we can hang them up after lunch.”

Royce glanced between the lights and Mick. “Are you sure? They’d look nice in your guys’ room too.”

Butchy added his two cents this time, “We’ve got a bunch of LED lights we’re putting up later. I think we’re all set, guys.”

Bentley looked to Royce hopefully, nodding excitedly when his older brother turned to him with a questioning look and a small smile. “In that case,” Royce began, “we’d love them.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Bentley chanted happily, tossing the lights into Royce’s lap and launching himself into hugging Mick.

Royce set the lights down and hugged Mick once Bentley had left her side. Miles grinned at his brothers as he watched them begin toying with the remote for the stringed lights. Royce handed Bentley the remote this time, watching as the lights shifted between a miniature rave to a soft purple and then a neon green.

Lunch consisted of some Polish foods - golumpki and some pierogi stuffed with meat, potato, and cheese - that Mack taught the group to make from a recipe her relatives had given her. The meal had gone over well, leaving only a little of each to be put in the fridge for later. Once they had finished, Bentley and Royce went upstairs with the lights and some hooks Brady had allowed them to use. After much contemplation, Mick eventually helped the boys shape the string of lights into a Christmas tree on the wall. The boys argued a little over what setting to put the lights on but ultimately chose to let it go from red to green to set the Christmas mood.

Later on, the group (bar Mack and Brady who'd left to go shopping) sat around the fireplace in the living room, still going through pictures and old items that had been stashed away in the attic or basement. Brady and Mack came in the front door, sending a cold gust of wind through the cabin as they pushed their shopping bags into the house and shoved the door closed with a swift kick. Brady took off for the kitchen to store their food away while Mack handed out things to the younger group. As she went down the list, handing out little gifts she and Brady had picked out at the store, she handed both Royce and Bentley a bag with a few boxes labeled “Color Film”.

“What are these for?” Bentley asked softly as he inspected the blue and white box. “And what is Polaroid?”

Royce placed his bag on the floor, moving to where the boxes of pictures were and pulling out the two cameras on the bottom of the box. “I knew it looked familiar,” he muttered to himself. “Polaroid is the name of these cameras.”

“Those boxes are the film you put into the cameras. It’ll take pictures and print them out automatically,” Mack explained, taking one of the cameras from Royce. “We’ll put the film in and then you’ll both be able to take pictures. You can pin them up on the wall with the lights Mick gave you earlier.”

“Can we do it now?” Bentley asked, taking one of the boxes from his bag and handing it to Mack. “I want our first picture to be a family picture.”

“Me too!” Royce agreed, pulling out one of his film boxes and tapping the cartridge on the palm of his hand. “I’ll use mine as a bookmark and Ben’s can go on the lights.”

Mack looked between the two boys with a fond smile before nodding. “Of course. Why don’t you both pick a camera and I’ll get them both set up.”

The boys decided who got what fairly quickly as Bentley claimed he would be painting something on his so they could easily tell them apart. Mack showed the boys how to load the film into the camera, mildly startling them as the film cover shot out, signifying that they were able to take pictures now. Once their cameras were ready to be used, the boys directed everyone onto the couch before realizing that they had no way of getting everyone into the picture. Brady stood and inspected the cameras before finding the timer button on each and telling the boys to go sit as he lined up the shot for each. Both cameras were placed on precarious stacks of books and, once the timer was set, Brady ran back to his spot and they all sat patiently, smiling until the cameras flashed and the film slid out of each.

Bentley and Royce jetted up from their seats, making their way to their respective cameras and watching as the pictures came to life in their hands. Without a moment of hesitation, Bentley ran upstairs to pin his image to the lights on their bedroom wall. Royce, on the other hand, slowly made his way upstairs, inspecting the picture as he went, and tucked his photograph into the book Mick had recommended he read, which he was - The Hunger Games. He wasn’t too far into the book, but he placed his Polaroid picture into the book and pulled out the bookmark Lela had made for him. He debated whether or not he should leave both bookmarks in or just the picture. The laminated bookmark was one of his favorites; orange and blue with the words “Just one more chapter… or two… or three” painted on it in bold, black letters. With a grin, Royce instead placed the orange and blue bookmark into the next book on his to-be-read list, leaving the photograph in his copy of The Hunger Games.

He turned to Bentley, who had finally found the perfect spot for their picture. “Top of the tree, huh?” he asked his younger brother.

“Yeah,” Bentley agreed, smiling at Royce as he put an arm around his older brother’s back. “I think it looks perfect.”

Royce nodded, squeezing Bentley to his side as they looked at all of the spaces they’d be able to fill with pictures. “Y’know, Benny, I’d have to agree with you on that.”

[clownwritesfanfic]

Look it’s my first original post wow. This was a topic discussed in a Discord server I’m in, Hello there if you are from that server. Also thanks if you helped when i got stuck. I decided to share it here because I had a bit of fun with it.

Slashers/Horror Characters and their hobbies (when they’re not on a killing spree)

Michael (1978) would probably read. I like to think they would at least give him some books to read in the asylum. If his victim has a collection of books and he’s got time he’ll browse through the selections and take some that intrigue him. His favourite genre would probably be mystery or psychological horror. Think SAW if it was a book. 2007 remake Michael, as we already know likes to make masks. I don’t really think that would stop after escaping.

Bubba would enjoy cooking and baking I think. He’d get all prettied up in his pretty woman mask and a nice non-bloodied apron and get to work. He doesn’t get to cook that often because Drayton thinks he’ll burn the house down because of one (1) incident where Bubba accidentally started an oil fire and in a panic threw water on it. (Do not do that btw it makes the fire so much worse) But when he does cook or bake it is delicious. He enjoys trying and making new recipes too.

Nubbins does taxidermy. But he makes really weird scenes with the dead animals. He once took the ballerina off an old wind up music box he found and placed a rat in a tutu doing a pirouette on it instead and gave it to Bubba. (Bubba adores that thing and it helps him sleep at night).He likes to take random parts from animals and make his own new creatures and try to convince Bubba they’re real. (Poor guy actually fell for one once and was scared of “flying rabid raccoons” for almost a whole month) He’s also partial to photography. Although he doesn’t have much of a muse and some of the pictures are blurry.

Chop Top likes to listen to music and has tried his hand at making it (much to Drayton’s dismay but he doesn’t have any rights so that doesn’t matter). He likes Rock music but his guilty pleasure would be smooth jazz.

Thomas would enjoy sewing. He once tried making a dress for Luda Mae but it wasn’t sized properly. The sleeves were much too small and the dress itself was too big it would be a hassle to do any house work in it. Luda Mae still praised Thomas for it and she still has it even if she can’t wear it and shes very proud of him for it.

Billy Loomis just watches different movies and makes up theories around them and likes to discuss plot holes. He’s like one of those Disney fans that makes up long and elaborate theories. (no disrespect to those people i actually enjoy them) Except it’s mostly on horror or thriller movies instead.

Stu has a little artistic side in him. He can’t do photo realistic drawings but he doodles quick little things of people, objects, animals, etc. When he;s bored in class he’ll look around and doodle his classmates on his notes. Some of his teachers have had to tell him to stop drawing on assignments and tests while others look forward to seeing his little doodles. He’s dabbled in sculpture quite a bit too. He’s not the best but he likes doing it. He once made Billy a little cup that Billy still has in his room holding some pencils and pens. He prefers drawing over painting and he’s got his own unique style.

Brahms will sit and play with his toys or colour in a colouring book. He actually prefers colouring over playing with toys. It’s a quick way to get him to calm down by having him sit at the dinner table and colour in a page with crayons (he’s not allowed pencil crayons, for obvious reasons) and a cup of tea. He also likes putting things back together (which might be the reason why he breaks his toys so often). He’s good at figuring out which piece fits with another much like a puzzle (however he doesn’t like real puzzles much). That’s why he was able to put his doll back together.

Jason also likes to read. Before he drowned he was at a higher reading level than the other kids. His mom made sure to teach him from an early age. She wanted a bright and respectable son. Sometimes he’ll go raid the cabins after slaughtering all the new campers to see if any have brought books. He enjoys poems and a bit of romance. If it has a scene his mother would frown upon her boy reading, he’ll skip it. He would also enjoy bird watching and observing all the other animals that roam the area.

Freddy...to be quite honest I have no idea what Freddy would do other than enter peoples dreams. He might like metalwork considering he made that little glove of his. If he’s not murdering people he’s probably just fucking with their dreams to entertain himself.

Chucky i’m also not sure of. I would like to say he’d play videos games but at the same time it doesn’t seem very fitting. (I’ve never watched a Chucky movie so I don’t really know his personality well enough)

Tiffany however would enjoy cooking and baking, like Bubba. I think she would prefer baking a little bit more than cooking.

Other than disturbing the sorority with his calls and *ahem* doing what he does best, Billy Lenz likes making collages. Either using material from old magazines or pictures of the girls. He likes getting a little surreal and cryptic with them. He likes putting animal heads on people. If you were to look at some of them you would have no clue as to what is happening or what it means. Billy knows. But he won’t tell you.

Cujo (as one of my fellow server mates said since i’ve never seen Cujo) likes to play fetch. What dog doesn’t? He’s also very partial to tug of war too. But don’t think you’ll win. That dog can dent a car door with his head.

1990 Pennywise would sit on his ass and read the newspaper or watch a shitty little broken TV on his shitty, dirty, springs-showing, torn up, recliner and smoke. He mostly smokes cigarettes but he doesn’t mind a good cigar if he can get his hands on one. Even though he sleeps for 27 years, he’ll still take naps on said recliner. Changing his form and chasing kids is hard work for an old being like him.

2017 Pennywise however is younger than 1990 Penny and so he has more energy. Pennywise genuinely likes clowns and what they do, that’s why the clown form is his favourite. (1990 Pennywise finds it easier to attract kids and make them feel safe if he looks like a clown). So he tries to make balloon animals. He’s not very good at it and they keep popping but he’s trying his best. And yes, he does get pretty angry if he keeps messing up.

Vincent as we already know, likes to make wax sculptures. He’s tried clay before but he doesn’t like how it feels dried on his hands. He’s much more comfortable with wax. Plus, if he ever runs out of wax he can re-melt a sculpture that is old or isn’t his favourite and start anew. Once clay dries it can’t go back to clay.

Bo likes to work on cars. The older the better. He prefers trucks but cars are just as good. He can tell whats wrong with it just by turning the engine on. He’s one of the best (and only) mechanics in town.

Lester likes to collect bones, mostly skulls, from roadkill he’s found. He waits for his little pile to rot then he’ll go in looking for skulls and bones.He’s got a whole wall of shelves filled with different animal skulls and skeletons. He also tried taxidermy once. Emphasis on tried. They came out looking terrible and messed up. He still likes doing it from time to time though.

Sweeney Todd actually enjoys being a barber. He finds it relaxing cutting peoples hair and making people look and feel good. He finds shaving men’s faces really satisfying and finds it quite humorous to see a gentleman with a beard come in and leave with a smooth baby face. They tend not to look so intimidating anymore.

[colbybrocksmolder]

A Video To My Future Wife - Colby Brock x Reader

Colby set the camera up, taking a minute to gather his thoughts.

“Hey guys, as you can tell by the title, this isn’t a normal video. Remember a few years ago when Sam and I made videos for each other to look back on when we’re older? Well this is another one of those. Kind of. But today, I’m going to make this for you. And for Y/n. The love of my life. The most beautiful human I’ve ever met, both inside and out.”

Colby ducked his head, smiling at how giddy he was to finally share you with the world. “A lot of you are very confused right now, I know. And I’m sorry. I’ve kept this part of my life off of YouTube for well over a year now and honestly? I don’t regret it one bit. It’s been the happiest year of my life so far. I know in my heart she’ll continue to make me my happiest self until literally one of us ceases to exist on this earth. I hope I die first because I don’t want to think about a life without her.”

Colby sighed, looking past the camera for a moment before cracking a smile. “If Y/n were home right now, she’d scold me for being so morbid. She doesn’t like when I talk about dying. She’d pull me into her arms, start listing reasons why it’s a waste of life to think about death. On my more stubborn emo days, she clings to me like a koala. Not a word of a lie. She’ll wrap her arms and legs around me and just talk. She once made it to like reason #56 that she thought I was adorable before I finally agreed to shower and leave the apartment. There’s no escaping the infectious joy she has inside her. I have yet to meet a single person who isn’t happier around her. I know a lot of you guys freak out whenever you hear dating rumors about me or see me with a female friend, but guys...you’re going to fucking love Y/n. So much. A handful of you guys already know her and I want to specifically thank you for keeping our secret. I’m just waiting for the photos you guys took with us to spread like wildfire now that it’s out in the open.”

Colby smiled, pulling out his phone to look at a picture the two of you had taken with a group of fans. “I’ll put this picture up on the screen so you can actually see it, but do you see this goober right here in the skeleton onesie? That’s y/n. You’re probably wondering why we’re all in our pajamas with a bunch of fans…Well that’s just a tiny glimpse into how kindhearted, selfless, and loving this girl is. We met a family one day while we were out. The two daughters and their friends happened to be fans of Sam and I. While I sat and talked to the girls for a minute, Y/n was sitting talking to their mom. Turns out these two girls had been through quite a rough year. The mom said that YouTube was what really kept them going. Y/n exchanged numbers with the mom and over the next few months kept in touch with the two girls. When the older sister’s birthday rolled around, Y/n had an idea. She talked with the mom and set up a little surprise movie night so that we could celebrate with the girls and their friends we had met with them. Her and Kat went out and got these goofy onesies for everyone, loads of snacks, games... Sam, Kat, Y/n, and I showed up and surprised them. It was awesome. Better than any Trap House party we’ve ever thrown.” Colby laughed.

Colby stared at the picture for a few seconds before locking his phone and putting it back in his pocket. “At this point, I already thought that I loved her. I was already convinced I had found my forever…but seeing her take time out of her insane schedule to go above and beyond to love on two random fans…When I tell you I was in awe of her, I mean it. I was a blushing, sweaty palmed, nervous boy. All night. The girl’s dad even pulled me to the side to whisper a ‘you’ve got it bad, kid’ to me.” Colby’s cheeks blushed with a hint of pink.

“And honestly? I have no fucking clue why she puts up with me.” Colby laughed. “I’m indecisive and clingy and moody. I can’t keep a schedule to save my life. I always need to be in control or I’m anxious or bail. And I never ever ever put my shoes away. I can’t tell you how many times Y/n has tripped trying to leave our kitchen because even though she’s asked me 200 times not to, I still leave my shoes right in the middle of the walkway. Yet every single day I find a new little note that she’s left me. Sometimes two or three on bad days. Actually, you know what? Be right back…”

Colby moved across the room to grab a photo-box full of papers. “Look at these.” He said, tipping the box to show you how full it was. He started reading some of them off. “Seeing you smile is my favorite way to start my day” “Your friends love you” “Your laughter is contagious” “You bring people joy” “Your ass looked great in those jeans last night” He laughed at that one, reading out one last note. “Strip away all of your fame and money and looks and what do you have left? The most accepting, honest, encouraging, and loving heart I’ve ever had the privilege of holding.” He stared at the piece of paper for a second before shrugging his shoulders and staring off into the other room. “Like I said, I have no clue what I did to deserve her.”

He moved to put the box back where he got it from and sat back down on the bed. “I know that a lot of you don’t like change. I know she’s going to get hate comments about loads of shit that either isn’t true or doesn’t matter. But do you want to know the truth? Neither of us care.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “We aren’t worried. We’re happy. And God does it feel good to say that because throughout my YouTube career, the amount of times I’ve been able to say that with a straight face are far and few between. Something to know before you start writing that shitty hateful comment…Y/n is never ever going to reply to you with hate. It doesn’t matter how mean you are to her. It’s just not in her. She’s too loving. She’ll probably apologize that you feel the way you feel and then treat you with perfect kindness. She goes out of her way to build people up. So, remember that before you’re too quick to try and tear her down.”

Colby heard the apartment door open and made a wide eyed ‘oh shit’ face at the camera. “Hey, baby! Are you home?”

“In here!” Colby called.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She apologized, seeing that she had interrupted him filming.

“Don’t worry.” Colby smiled up at her, reaching his arms out to invite her to sit on his lap for a moment. “I’ll just edit it out. What’s up?”

“This girl just moved in right above us and I want to go help her get settled. Her friend bailed on her and we have that bottle of red wine we’re never going to drink. Do you mind if I grab some snacks and the wine and go help her?” She asked, pressing a kiss to Colby’s cheek.

“Of course, I don’t mind, babe.” He slipped his arms tighter around her and kissed her lips. “I’ll text you when I’m done to see if you guys need help with anything heavy.”

“You’re too good to me.” She said, sliding off of his lap.

“I love you!” Colby called out after her, hearing her pack a bag full of snacks and grab the wine.

“I love you more!” he heard her call back. The apartment door closing behind her.

“I’m definitely not editing any of that out.” Colby laughed, looking back at the camera. “But do you see what I mean? That was a perfect example. One of like a thousand I could share. She so effortlessly walks into people’s lives and does whatever she can to help them.”

“I just realized you guys have no clue how we met.” Colby shook his head, laughing to himself. “So, you know those overnight videos we do with TFIL? Well we were once again being complete idiots and trying to sneak into this massive indoor sports arcade type place. Everyone had hidden except for me and I was about to get caught. I had climbed over this massive basketball free-throw cage thing and I was going to drop down behind it when the manager of the arcade started walking towards his office…right next to where I was hanging. This girl and I made eye contact and she recognized who I was. She obviously knew what I was up to. She started to laugh but quickly realized I was about to get caught. When the Manager went to step by her, she ‘stumbled’ into him and pretended to faint. Throwing in an ‘I don’t feel good’ right before hitting the ground for good measure. Her distraction gave me enough time to drop down behind the machine. When I peeked through the bars, I saw her ‘wake up’ and ask the manager if he could show here where the ski ball was like nothing had happened.” Colby snorted rolling his eyes. “She wasn’t the best actress on the planet, but she sure as hell had my attention. I spent the whole night annoying the rest of the guys trying to figure out how to find her and thank her. Talk to her. Turns out, it was easier than I thought. When we finally left at like 5 am, there was a little torn piece of paper tucked under my windshield wiper that said ‘you’re welcome’ and her phone number. Needless to say, I didn’t go to bed. I ended up meeting her at a diner where we talked so long, we ate both breakfast and lunch before parting ways. I’m usually a listener, you know? I know people see me in videos and think I’m crazy and loud 24/7, but I’m honestly usually the shy quiet kid sitting in the corner, people watching, and hoping no one notices me. But when I sat in that diner…I couldn’t shut up. It’s like she was pulling words out of me. I felt very…comfortable.”

Colby looked to be thinking about something for a moment, a soft smile on his face. “This video is partially for her and partially for you guys. I wanted to be able to introduce her before she just randomly started showing up in pictures or in videos. I didn’t want rumors about me ‘maybe’ dating her. I kind of wanted to spill my guts and talk about her to you guys because she’s the most important person in my life. And she doesn’t let me dote on her much, so I figured this was a good way to get it all out” he couldn’t help but smile. “I know you guys are going to love her. I know it. And I know she already loves all of you. It’s going to take her some time to get used to all of the attention, but I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to share her with you.”

“Y/n.” He faced the camera, speaking directly to her. “It would be impossible to list all of the things you’ve changed in my life. I know it sounds sappy as shit, but when poets say weird stuff like ‘the trees just looked different after meeting her’ I get it, now. It makes total sense to me. It’s like you reached down deep to the worst parts of me, shined a light on them, and loved me anyways…and I will never be able to actually explain how much I love you…But I will spend the rest of my life trying.”

[excorcismic]

      ❛ remember the time . . . in SAN FRANCISCO ? with me by your side , in SAN FRANCISCO ? you are such a  s i g h t  , the deepest brown eyes , my dear . . . ❜

                                                                      ❛ MISA MISA !! ❜                                            playlist . plotting call . listen as you read !

the mirrors surrounding you did as they were meant to, reflecting back a spitting image of HIRAI MOMO  -  but it’s clear something is wrong from the moment that a vision of VALENTINE’S DAY , 2011 strikes you.  perhaps it was a passing daydream in the frenzy of the funhouse. you reassure yourself  -  you’re MISA AMANE ! ,  a TWENTY-FOUR YEAR OLD STREAMER / MUSICIAN whose virtue lies in your + LOYALTY & + OPTIMISM , although you’ve been told that you tend to be quite - NAÏVE & - IMPULSIVE ,  and you’re associated with BLACK PAINTED NAILS HOLDING A FOUNTAIN PEN , RUBY RED LIPS & EYES THAT MATCH , GIVING HIM YOUR EVERYTHING IN EXCHANGE FOR JUST HIS HEART by those around you.  suddenly,  however,  you’ve found LIGHT’S WHITE JACKET on your person - was that always there? from the moment you leave the funhouse,  memories from your life in DEATH NOTE have begun to return - leaving whoever you had been before in the mirror’s reflection behind you.  you can almost hear SAN FRANCISCO by THE DRIVER ERA following in your wake. ( she/her & demigirl )

                       this is the story of a very lonely girl .

I . WELL , LOOK AT YOUR WATCH NOW !

born in alucard , pennsylvania - misa amane was the child of celebrity parents who settled down in the small town . as of course , a TEMPORARY break . a director father and a failed actress mother , they were determined their daughter continue the legacy and turn into a star . and after a few good , normal years ( if ‘normal’ involved going to school & playing during the day then coming home to intense acting , singing , dancing practice ) , she managed to get wrapped into the world of stardom . 

first , it was through commercials . then , small parts in movies that called for cute little girls . then . . . a deal with a children’s network at age nine to star in a series about a child detective . affectionately called , THE MYSTERIES OF MISS MISA-MISA !

from nine to sixteen , she’d work tirelessly - becoming an instant hit the moment the pilot episode aired , selling merchandise all over the country and making appearances on other television shows . 

but then there’s the inevitable - kids start to grow up . the childish charm is lost & the children start to realize they were deprived of so much for the sake of fame . such things , like friends . and misa . . . although initially asked for a sequel series that would tackle the child detective now as a high schooler , declined in favor of going back home to pursue her high school years as a normal teen . of course - to the chagrin of her parents . she’d go back home to live with an aunt in alucard for a year , finishing her sophomore year , then her parents would follow - she’d move back in again at the start of her junior . and . . . it was not at all easy . considering a , she already had a reputation as a child star - which was equivalent to a target along her back . and b , the lack of friends was obvious - and even when she smiled at everyone , complimented their styles , helped them out with work she could assist with . . . most of the time , she’d sit by herself at the lunch table . or , with people that she didn’t know if they were actual friends or not . 

graduation comes , and misa amane stands to accept her diploma . there isn’t a graduation party ; she just sits in the back of her parents’ car , ready to go out to a fancy dinner she isn’t looking forward to .

II . YOU’RE STILL A SUPER HOT FEMALE !

BUT ALL HOPE IS NOT LOST ! graduation is the end of a chapter - and the beginning of the next rests in amane’s hands . three months pass , and once again the family puts pressure on her to go back into showbiz . it isn’t too late , you’re young & pretty - you’re meant for movies . but . . . misa , of course , refuses . she actually is looking into maybe making another name for herself . . . but in a very different way than her parents would hope .

it’s an argument . an argument about how misa has talent she’s ignoring & an argument about how her parents can’t control her forever . one friend she has sits in her truck in the parking lot as misa packs her bags , and the heated argument ends with the blonde girl slamming the door and her parents telling her to come back only when she has her head screwed on straight . but it’s fine . misa’s alright with this - she’s going to be a star in her own right , since a band she’s started playing in underground has just gotten noticed . YOUR FRIENDS & THE SKELETONS - a hard pop-punk band influenced by the likes of my chemical romance , paramore , two door cinema club , the 1975 , what have you . 

alucard is left behind when the recognition comes since misa amane needs the change of scenery . but that doesn’t mean she is gone forever , as sometimes the pursuit of other things only lasts for so long . 

III . YOU’VE GOT YOUR MILLION DOLLAR CONTRACT !

the next few years are kind . the band experiences a nice success that means misa gets to live her dream - but she realizes the burnout when she looks back on everything she’s accomplished . the constant moving around , always only talking to the same few people or never anyone she gets to know - it registers that she’s still in some sort of box . and maybe a break from said box is needed .

your friends & the skeletons goes on a touring hiatus , retiring back to alucard . misa does not tell her family she’s going back - she doesn’t give a shit , and she doesn’t think they do , either . she gets an apartment by herself , and starts frequently streaming to still connect with her fans even though she’s taken a step back out of the spotlight . 

alucard is quiet . and alucard is home . but there’s a lot that misa again has to face .

she has a history here , yes - but nevertheless , there is still that feeling of loneliness . in every aspect - she never had many friends . little of her relationships lasted long , always ending with unrequited love , quick heartbreak , what have you . only her bandmembers did she have , even though she tried to throw herself at every friendly face she saw .

because she’s always been friendly . always a friend to everyone else , even if they aren’t a friend to her . only hoping maybe SOMEONE ELSE can see her as someone - begging to be somebody’s top-pick , somebody’s vip , somebody to someone . because her whole life she’s lived as only the bridesmaid , but never the bride in the eyes of those looking away from stardom . because it’s one thing to be adored by fans - it’s another to be adored by individual people .

IV . AND THEY’RE ALL WAITING FOR YOUR HOT TRACK !

nevertheless , amane is never one to give up quickly . because she believes that someday , maybe she’ll get what she wants . . . even though of course , when things go south , she still quickly accepts maybe she isn’t meant to be somebody’s someone . 

but she always smiles .

misa amane is one of a kind . she’s got so much love in her heart to share - she’s sensitive , maybe she gets hurt easily . maybe she’s IMPULSIVE and naive to where she bites off more than she can chew and believes things she shouldn’t . she jumps into things without realizing how much she could get hurt . talks without thinking . but she is friendly - she’s kind , outgoing , and cherishes those she admires even if they don’t cherish her back . her heart is forever on her sleeve , and all she wants to be loved . she’s been lonely for a long time .

she’s talented ! not only fronting her band with vocals & rhythm guitar , but also taking interests in visual art , crafting . aside from streaming , she runs a little etsy shop where she makes jewelry and keychains of her own little style . she of course can act , but hates it at this point . she also knows how to play the piano & the drums !!

she regularly streams for her fans - whether it’s to watch movies or shows with them or to play video games she has with them . she’s social , in that she always loves to talk to someone . her batteries recharge through social interaction , as an extrovert’s extrovert .

i wouldn’t say misa is stupid . she’s clever - witty . but sometimes she’s a little ditzy and acts without thinking ; i like to thing she did pretty well in school in terms of her grades , but her tendencies to both act and speak without thinking and sometimes forgetting simple things can give the impression she isn’t too smart . but she is ; just in her own special ways . she’s not dumb at all .

she also knows no fear - courageous to some points where it’s even dangerous . she regularly likes to go on adventures in the dark to investigate possible haunted areas , always is the one to kill the bugs when everyone else is scared , heights and the dark are never an issue . she also lives and breathes for the occult , heavily believing in everything supernatural . she even practices witchcraft ! 

also she's hardcore pan if u think misa is straight U Are Mistaken

it is almost a certain guarantee that misa amane is perhaps one of the friendliest faces in alucard . the one that only hopes you like her as much as she likes you . and maybe one day she’ll find that - until then , she will never stop persisting . she goes everywhere and she smiles at everyone ; a shimmer of sunshine in black platforms & cross earrings .

WHAT YOU WAITING - WHAT YOU WAITING - WHAT YOU WAITING - WHAT YOU WAITING - WHAT YOU WAITING FOR ?? . . .

                    . . .  holding on , i’m holding on to our story . . .

there is a girl . a very lonely girl . a very lonely girl that looks back at misa when she stares into the house of mirrors . and that lonely girl is a thought that misa can’t get out of her head , along with the newfound feeling that there is something - no , someone missing from her life that should be there . or was there . a missing piece that she doesn’t recognize . and the white jacket , a bit too big for her to fit , that appears on her person - the attachment she feels to it gives her security , like a safety blanket ; even though she has no clue where it came from , or who it actually belonged to . . . 

god i fried my own brain writing this but anyway HELLO EVERYONE once again i am hylia and . . . i have finally finished . my monster of an intro for misa . once again if u want to look at my plot/connection ideas pls click the plotting call link at the top of this post !! i love this girl to death and i hope u guys like her too c: bc she is my BABIE and i ,,, am so stoked to write her here . I’LL SEE Y’ALL WHEN I GET OFF WORK !! <3 

[collapsingintojupiter]

An Analogical Christmas

Merry Christmas, Circuit. <3 I love you dude, thanks for the fun times we’ve had together. 

---

So as you all know, it is now Christmas. And for my lovely friend @short-circut, I wrote a fluffy little Christmas oneshot for Analogical. 

Enjoy.

___

It was 5 am. Logan stood over his and Virgil’s bed, holding his phone and squinting at the message he’d left himself on there. It was something Virgil had told him some time ago, something about how his Christmases had used to be when he was a kid--back before his life had spiraled, and they had met, and their new life had begun in the ashes of the old. Such a long time ago but…Logan remembered. He always did.

A tired blue light shone on his face as he read over the note again.

They always had the Christmas tree all strung up in the corner of the living room, with the lights on so that it was the first thing me and my brothers saw when we came downstairs. Each of us had a special ornament with our name on it, and we could hang it wherever we wanted.

On Christmas morning when we came downstairs my mom and pop would have cookies and cocoa waiting for us—it was the only time we were ever allowed to eat in the living room, and the only time we could eat that kinda junk so early in the morning. We’d watch a movie together, and then my mom would have us open the presents. We’d play in the snow…

Logan knew how impossible it would be to recreate all of that perfectly, but he remembered the details Virgil had told him so vividly for a reason—he knew he hadn’t imagined the sharp bittersweet look on Virgil’s face as he recounted the memories, memories that were clearly something very special and happy to him. And while his husband’s situation was worlds away from what it had been this year, Logan still wanted to be able to make this day special for his husband.

Which brought him back to why he was desperately trying to wake himself up as he quietly pulled a tree into the house from the garage—it wasn’t real, he hadn’t been able to get one of those, but he thought it would do—setting it up as carefully and silently as he could in the corner of the living room. He and Virgil had both been so stressed that neither had thought much about Christmas this year...at least, that was how it had been until a week ago, when they’d shared old memories and Virgil’s Christmas ones had tumbled from him in a messy sort of sadness and happiness, and Logan had made his mind up—he was going to make his Star a special surprise for this Christmas…something that, he hoped, could make Virgil smile.

It was 3am. Virgil was stressed, Logan was tired, and somehow they’d both found themselves downstairs with mugs of hot chocolate in their hands. Logan had looked at Virgil with a chocolate moustache he didn’t know was there, and when his husband saw it he smiled; then laughed.

Everyone deserved to smile on Christmas. And with the year the couple had had this time around, with its rough spots and hard times and too much stress, Logan felt that Virgil especially deserved it. And while he was no master of emotions, he would do anything to make his Star smile. Anything.

It took some digging around, but after a bit of searching Logan unearthed an old box of ornaments and cautiously brought it to the living room. He took out a blue and a purple one and set those aside, then got to work setting up the tree. It wasn’t large and Logan had never claimed to be much of a decorator…but he did his best to set the display up in what he thought was a pleasing array of lights, ornaments, and a silver garland to complete the look.

It was raining. Logan gripped the steering wheel in his hands as water splattered over the windshield, maneuvering their car as best he could over the wet streets. Their town’s lights shone through the raindrops on the windshield in a golden wash of light, illuminating a sleeping Virgil who’d curled up in the passenger’s seat. Logan felt his irritation and stress melt away at the peaceful look on his face, and how beautiful he was in the golden light that swept over his soft patch hoodie…he looked like an angel, he’d thought.

Next, Logan moved on to the kitchen. There he meticulously followed a recipe for molasses cookies—Virgil’s favorite, he’d learned not long after the two started dating. Neither of them were a fan of the usual decorated sugar cookies, and though Virgil had described those as being part of his childhood memories Logan thought he might appreciate these more…he hoped he was right about that.

Laughter. So much laughter; the kind that made tears stream from your eyes and your stomach hurt from it all. Patton, covered in flour and Virgil no less affected, both of them staring at each other with wide eyes and clothes covered in white powder. They’d been baking a cake for Roman’s birthday, and had turned on the mixer too fast. The kitchen was a mess, and Logan just couldn’t stop laughing. Soon the other two joined in, and then they all collapsed to the floor, snickering and giggling until they looked at each other and it all started up again.

Logan moved with a deathly quiet as he got everything set up—Virgil was a notoriously light sleeper, and the slightest sound could awaken him and ruin the whole thing, so he had to be as careful as possible getting everything ready. Luckily however Logan was experienced in such things—both in committing to his late-night wanderings without waking his husband, and without being much of a loud sort in general.

The lamp was on. And though it was the time of night when anybody with an ounce of sanity was unconscious, they were both awake. Logan, who read from a book about space aloud to Virgil, who’d had a nightmare. He leaned against Logan’s shoulder, eyes closed while his hands shook and Logan read; read on in a gentle, steady voice. And soon, Virgil had fallen to sleep again, and Logan let him lean against him. He’d let his husband sleep while he could.

It was now approaching 7am. Logan set out the still-warm cookies on the table, plugged in the tree, and wrapped up the peppermint/hot chocolate/coffee concoction he’d created (Virgil’s favorite) to leave in the fridge until the proper time came to heat it up. He pulled a few small gifts he’d been saving and ever-so carefully wrapped them, placing them gently under the tree before retiring back to bed.

Upon returning to their room Logan saw that his mission had been a success—Virgil had hardly stirred since he disappeared, and only mumbled something about waffles before shifting over as Logan rejoined him.

Success.

---

A few hours later, something nudged him awake.

“Mmm, Logan.” Logan opened his eyes to see Virgil leaning over him, a tired lopsided grin plastered on his face. “Morning. Merry Chris’mas.” Logan allowed himself to smile at his husband and sat up, letting Virgil draw him into a hug. The soft material of his purple sweater was soft, and gentle, and Logan closed his eyes as he rested his cheek on Virgil’s shoulder.

“I love you, Star,” he whispered.

“I love you too.” Virgil got up and started towards the door, not bothering to change out of his black-and-white skeleton pajama pants. Logan followed him; keeping his face neutral so as not to give away the surprise. His husband rubbed at his eyes as he stepped out into the hallway…

And stopped.

“Logan?” Virgil whispered, staring at the staircase in shock as he saw what was behind it. “Is that…is that a tree? Did…did you…” Logan walked up beside him and smiled a little, watching Virgil as he nearly ran down the stairs to the living room. His jaw dropped at the sight of the Christmas tree before him and he froze for a moment, slowly taking the scene in.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” he whispered after a long moment, turning to Logan with tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you remembered…this is amazing, Logan.”

“Merry Christmas,” Logan told him, and Virgil rushed into his arms with a quiet, choked thank you. He could only nod; he wasn’t sure how long they stood there, just holding each other, but he couldn’t have been happier about it. He couldn’t have been happier to see Virgil looking so delighted to see his memories come to life, to know that he’d done something good…and while he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it, it made him feel good too.

Virgil suddenly sniffed at the air, and his eyes widened.

“Are those…are those molasses cookies?” he whispered incredulously, looking down at the plate he hadn’t noticed before.

“Indeed they are. I also made you some hot chocolate…” Logan disappeared into the kitchen, and came back a few minutes later with two steaming mugs, one of which he passed off to his husband. Virgil slowly sank down onto the sofa as he looked at the hot chocolate in his hands, not bothering to wipe away the tears that quietly slipped down his cheeks at the sight.

“Is everything okay, Virgil?” Logan asked, frowning a little. His husband gave him a watery smile.

“More than okay,” he whispered. “So much more than okay…”

“I also…I believe that this was a part of your tradition, as well?” Logan hesitantly pulled out the two ornaments he’d set aside earlier, one with the name Virgil and the other with the name Logan painted on it in perfectly neat letters. Virgil let out a soft gasp as he saw the them, gingerly taking his ornament and staring at it. Another tear slid down his cheek, and he smiled.

“Oh my god…you remembered all of it...” he looked at Logan with shining eyes and then took both of the ornaments, standing up and hanging them next to each other on the tree. Then he came back, curling up against Logan and they both watched the snow fall outside the window.

For a long time, they were both quiet. Each of them enjoyed the silence, taking the time to appreciate it with their cookies and hot chocolate. Virgil stared out the window, and Logan noted after some time that his eyes were distant; remembering.

Then, Virgil started to hum. It was a familiar tune, the kind you recognized immediately and the kind that got played way too often in shopping malls around Christmastime. But here…here, in their quiet, little house curled up next to each other, watching the snow fall…

It was beautiful.

Then Virgil started to sing.

Silent Night, Holy Night

All was calm, all was bright,

At first Logan was too shocked to do anything but stare at his husband in an awed silence, amazed once again by the incredible singing voice of Virgil that he so rarely heard. But then the tune wrapped him in its sweet embrace, and he felt himself joining in as the last part of the verse came around.

Sleep in heavenly peace,

Sleep in heavenly peace.

The two stopped as the song ended, then slowly turned and looked at each other. Virgil smiled at Logan, the little half-smile that he loved so much, and then hugged him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

Logan pressed a butterfly-light kiss to his forehead.

 And there they stayed for a long time, curled into each other’s sides, watching the snow fall. Enjoying the silence; enjoying each other; enjoying their memories.

Because really, when you had with you the person you loved most in the world, nothing else really mattered.

 Merry Christmas everybody.

[kakasaku-shipper]

Natural Progression (Chapter 7)

Chapter 7

Sakura ran through the rooftops. It felt good to be able to soar high in the sky. It made it seem like she could fly, could do anything even. As she looked around, she noted that Konoha's rebuilding seemed to be progressing very well, with most of the skeletons of structures destroyed from Pein's attack re-erected. Only some finishing touches were needed, and Konoha would look as if it had never been attacked.

"Yamato-taicho!" Sakura greeted the man sitting on the rooftop.

"Ah, Sakura-chan," Tenzo turned around to wave at her. Sakura's smile dropped immediately as her heart leapt to get throat.

"Taicho! You shouldn't work yourself to death like this. It was bad enough that Kakashi-sensei scares me half to death on a regular basis, I don't need you to do the same," she admonished as she immediately went to replenish his chakra supply. 

"Well, it's an honour to be compared to senpai.." Tenzo began, but quickly shut his mouth at the deathly glare Sakura was giving. Tenzo was a smart man. So he knew that keeping quiet and nodding appropriately was the best option he had.

"Well, you're all done now, Taicho. Please refrain from overusing your chakra in the future. I know Naruto's running around, please just grab him and get him to transfer you some chakra."

"Noted, thank you, Sakura-chan," Tenzo said with a smile. "Are you going to a party? That's a lot of ice cream and goodies right there."

"Ah.. I'm just going to Ino's to keep her company. Her father's death still affected her really badly."

"Please send my condolences for her too. Inoichi-san was a great man."

"I will," Sakura replied. "By the way, I'm planning to have a gathering soon with team 7 members. You have to come along."

"But I'm not a part of team 7."

"You are. You and Sai both are," Sakura said firmly. "I haven't managed to track down Sai since I'm still busy at the hospital. But if you see him, would you please let him know too, Taicho?"

"Will do, Sakura-chan." 

Sakura gave Tenzo one last smile as she leapt through another building. Ino first, and then she'll worry about dragging her teammates to sit down together through a meal.

...

"Ah, Sakura-chan," Ino's mother greeted as Sakura landed in front of Ino's house.

"Oba-san," Sakura replied as she gave the older woman a hug. "How's Ino?"

"She hasn't came out of her room. And she barely eats," Ino's mother said as she shook her head sadly. 

"I'll do my best to drag her out of bed," Sakura joked weakly. "How are you holding up?"

"It's hard, but I'm a kunoichi of Konohagakure. I have been prepared for this to happen the day I married Inoichi. I understood my duty to my family and the village."

"Yes, of course," Sakura replied. Although Ino's mom spoke with such poise, Sakura could see the sorrow in her eyes. She just lost her husband after all. "Well, my mom is in town for a while. I think she would be happy to have company over tea."

"Thank you, Sakura-chan," Ino's mother replied kindly as she drew Sakura into another hug. "I'll be on my way to the flower shop first. It's going to be a busy day as we are having the funeral procession tomorrow."

"I'll do my best to drag Ino to help you," Sakura promised. "But if she's still not up to it, I'll come along to help. I'll bring some friends over too."

"That would be lovely. Thank you, Sakura-chan," Ino's mother said as she released Sakura from the hug. 

Sakura watched as Ino's mother disappeared from her line of sight as she quietly made her way into Ino's house. She set down grocery bag she brought on the coffee table before making her way up to Ino's room.

"Ino," Sakura called out softly as she stood in front of her door. There was no answer, but Sakura could hear the rustling of sheets. "I'm coming in, Ino," she tried once more. When there wasn't any answer, Sakura gently opened the door.

Ino was lying in bed, cocooned inside her blanket. Sakura made her way towards Ino's bed and sat on its edge as she gently ran her hand through her hair. 

"It still hurts, Sakura," Ino rasped as tear began to trickle out of the corner of her eyes. Sakura's heart broke for her best friend. Sure, she did not know how it felt losing a parent, but when Sasuke left it had hurt her and left her numb for weeks. And at the time, she knew that he was still alive and that there was hope of him coming back. She couldn't even begin to imagine how Ino was feeling.

"I'm sorry for your loss. I really am, and I don't know what to say or do to make it better," Sakura admitted quietly as she knelt down beside Ino's bed to be at eye level with her.

"At least you're not telling me that it will get better with time," Ino said bitterly as she sat up. "I know it's true, Kami, I hope it's true. But it still hurt so fucking bad right now. I don't need to hear it!" 

Sakura nodded her head, just listening to what the blonde had to say. Ino then drew her beloved bunny stuffed toy and hugged it close. It was the first stuffed toy Inoichi had gotten her, and Ino said that she had the bunny since before she could remember anything.  As the silence stretched, Ino huffed and patted the space beside her. Sakura complied and sat beside her best friend as Ino laid her head on Sakura's shoulder. 

"Can you believe that the elders came right after I got home, before I could cry in my mom's arms and demanded that I started the training to take over as the clan's head?" Ino said seethingly as she chewed on the ear of her bunny.

"Hmm. You can always give me their names and I'll work something out with Naruto, Sasuke and Sai," Sakura replied as she gently removed the poor bunny from the abuse of Ino's teeth.

"I'll give you the list. And I want to watch their faces when they suffer."

"That settled it then," Sakura said. "Your kaa-san is really worried about you, and I've brought lots of ice cream, chocolates and cookies. All your favorites. Could you try to eat something for us?" Sakura added quietly.

"Yeah. I'll eat. I haven't had anything for a while so all those calories shouldn't ruin my figure," Ino joked weakly.  

"Good. Because we're stuffing ourselves with all of it and we're going to help your mom run the store," Sakura said as she got up from the bed. "I'll grab the food and you'll choose the movie?"

"Hmm." Ino nodded as she slowly crawled out of her cocoon. Before Sakura could exit the room, Ino called out to her. "Thank you, Sakura."

"This is what friends are for, pig."

"Forehead," Ino retorted back fondly.

...

5 pints of ice cream, 2 boxes of cookies and nth pieces of chocolates later, both Sakura and Ino were in sugar induced commas. With the latter swimming in so much more endorphins than she had been for the past week. 

"This is a bad idea," Ino moaned as she stuffed yet another cookie into her mouth.

"I feel like I've gained 10kg," Sakura groaned as she lied down flat on the bed. 

"Uh, I feel like I should join Team Gai's training session for a whole month just to lose everything I've gained today."

"Ah, you probably haven't heard, but Gai-sensei may never walk again," Sakura said soberly, as she sat back up in the bed. 

"What, no way! What happened?" Ino asked, flabbergasted. Gai-sensei was one of the strongest jonin in the village. And he was posted in Kakashi-sensei's batallion. And if Gai-sensei was strong, Kakashi-sensei was straight up a monster. He was able to fight against two Akatsuki members, one an undead zombie and another, a creepy ragdoll who can split himself into what, 4 or 5 pieces of himself? While protecting both her and Chouji. And although Ino was not on Kakashi's battalion during the war, she was linked to another Yamanaka who was the sensor in his battalion. Her cousin had told her that he was glad that Kakashi was on their team because a rampaging copy-ninja carrying a massive cleaver was the most terrifying thing he had seen since the Yondaime Hokage's rampage on Kumo during the third war. So how could he let his best friend got hurt to that extent?  

"Gai-sensei fought Madara and activated his eight's gate. He broke his leg kicking Madara."

"Now, that's a cool story on how you broke your leg."

"I know right?" Sakura laughed. "But I really wish that there is something we can do, to at last allow him to walk again."

"Me too. How's the team though?"

"Neji woke up for five minutes yesterday before going back to sleep. But otherwise he seemed fine. Tenten had been busy being the convoy guard for our rebuilding materials and I think Kakashi-sensei had been training with Lee."

"Hmm.. Chouji and Shika had been dropping by every day to check on me and shooing the elders." Ino mused. She would treat them to BBQ after the funeral, but she's only paying for 5 servings for Chouji. "How's your team? Any luck with Sa-su-ke-kun?" Ino asked as she wagged her eyebrow suggestively.

"I just saw Yamato-taicho this morning, and he asked me to pass you his condolences," Sakura said. "Taicho said that your dad was a good man."

"He was," Ino said as she took a deep breath. "I'll thank him tomorrow in the funeral procession if I see him." Ino said. "Well, enough of that. I want some tea on how your team is doing, especially with you and Sasuke-kun."

"Well, Taicho looked exhausted when I saw him. I think they worked him to the bone for the rebuilding effort."

"Hmm. I bet Naruto's roped in too?"

"Yep. He's surprisingly been more help than hindrance so far," Sakura commented fondly. "Oh, and before you asked about Sai," Sakura added conspiratorially.  "I haven't seen a head nor tail about him. But I'll probably try to find him after the funeral. You're very welcomed to come along," Sakura said as it was her turn wagging her eyebrow at Ino.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that offer," Ino said with a giggle. "But how about Sasuke-kun?"

"I think Kakashi-sensei's roping him into something," Sakura said with a shudder, remembering the sadistic smile on Kakashi's face.

"It can't be that bad."

"Oh but Sensei caught him sneaking out of the compound."

"Do you think he'll be at the funeral tomorrow, as the fallen?"

"From the look on Kakashi-sensei's face I say that it's a pretty high probability," Sakura said with a cringe.

"You should help him then."

"Nah, whatever Sensei is doing to him, I figured it will not even be sufficient punishment for him leaving us years ago."

"Forehead?" Ino called with a surprising quietness in her voice. At Sakura's head tilt, Ino drew a deep breath. "You don't sound so.. enamoured with him any more."

Sakura sighed as she sagged back into Ino's bed. "I've started having this confusion about my feelings for him since the war ended."

"Oh, I'm sorry I wasn't there to listen to your love adventures," Ino commented idly, her exact words prompted Sakura to turn her head and groan into Ino's pillow. 

"You know who I talked to about this instead?"

"Tsunade-sama? Shizune-san? Your mom? Tenten? Hinata?" Ino grew more and more puzzled as Sakura shook her head to every names Ino suggested. "Naruto?" Ino asked incredulously. While Naruto was a great friend, he was just too dense. 

"It's worse than Naruto."

At Sakura's words, Ino's eyebrow furrowed. "You talked to Gai-sensei?"

"I think it's even worse than Gai-sensei," Sakura said grimly.

"Well, I'm running out of options here. I would start throwing in Ibiki-san and Anko-san just for the sake of it."

"Well, it's not that bad. It's not that he's a bad person to talk to, but it just felt so mortifying."

"Were you drunk?"

"I was completely sober," Sakura said dryly. At Ino's eyebrow cock, Sakura caved. "I somehow talked to Kakashi-sensei about my feelings for Sasuke."

Sakura shot Ino a scowl as the blonde howled in laughter. "You asked Konoha's number one most aloof bachelor for love advice?"

"We talked, and it just came up."

"So what did he say?"

"I have time to figure all this out, since Sasuke-kun's not going anywhere for a while."

"That is a surprisingly good answer."

"He's aloof and reclusive. He's not socially inept, Ino. Thats's Sai."

"I suppose he always have a knack to assure everyone that things are going to be okay," Ino replied nonchalantly to not bite into Sakura's bait. 

"He does. And it's reassuring because we know that he will try his hardest to keep his promises."

"How is he though? I heard he lost his sharingan?"

"He managed to make me feel like a genin again from a taijutsu spar," Sakura replied with a pout. 

"Well, it's Kakashi-sensei. The fact that he even spars with you means that he recognises your skills."

"I supposed so," Sakura said as a smile tugged on the corner of her lips. She may not be good enough now, but she could always train harder. After all, the thing she did best was playing catch-up, right? "By the way, I told your kaa-san that I would help her drag you out of bed to help in the shop. But if you're not feeling up to it, I'll grab Naruto in your stead to help?"

"I'll come. I know she's been suffering too," Ino said with a sad smile. "Besides, can't have my family business be ruined now, can we?"

At that, Sakura laughed as she exited Ino's room to give her some privacy to get ready.  

...

A/N 

1. Ino's mom's name has never been revealed, and I don't think she would come up again in my fic, so I don't think I need to create a name for her

2. She might sound a little cold from her interaction with Sakura, but I imagined Ino's mom as a sort of noble lady. The Yamanaka clan, although not as prominent as even the Akimichi (because there are 4 noble clans in Konoha: Uchiha, Hyuuga, Aburame and Akimichi) would still be an old clan along with Nara clan. So I expect the patriarch and matriarch to have a sort of noble air around them. Sooo for Ino's mom, since the Yamanaka are also florist, I imagine her to be someone gentle, but with a lot of inner strength. So she would not usually sound cold and detached, but in this circumstance, since her husband had just died and her daughter is still in a state of emotional turmoil, she have to be the strong one (cos that's also what moms do). So the 'detachment' is probably her way of coping.

3. Endorphin is a 'happy' hormone (basically an endogenous opioid/ opioid produced naturally by the body). There's some research that suggests that eating chocolates causes endorphin release because of the chemical compound found in chocolates. So, eat chocolates and stay happy! :) 

4. In a lot of fics, Kakashi is often depicted as someone who's not very good with social interaction. But I think Kakashi, being a ninja, would know how to act and what to say, since acting the right way and saying the right stuff goes a long way in the shinobi world, especially when it helps you to not get killed in the job. I think he would no doubt be awkward in a setting where he is in a big crowd and is the centre of attention of said crowd. But if it's a smaller group of people, I think he would know how to position himself (especially literally positioning himself in a way where extricating himself from said situation would be easiest).

[emulateharry]

Valentine

I wrote this for the lovely Rested (@the-well-rested-one).  I am posting here with her permission.  A little Nick Grimshaw.   M/M. Hope you like.   

Bloody stupid holiday. Who came up with this anyway? The one day a year that single people were made to feel worse about their plight assuming, of course, that they were unhappy to be sans lover.  Why do I even care?  It’s purely a commercial day made up by the chocolatiers and florists and greeting card writers.  Frivolous waste of money if you ask me.

Nick was so intent on his inner monologue that he didn’t hear the cute guy behind the counter ask for his order.

“Oh, sorry.  I’ll have a venti Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha Frappuccino with extra whipped.”

He paid and then moved over to a table to wait for the 400 calories of caffeinated goodness.  He had been so good, so good, when he and Meshach were together.  He’d started every day with a smoothie and never missed a workout.  But screw that.  Mesh had gone on to greener pastures and Nick was drowning his sorrows with ‘coffee’.  He should be over it by now, it had been months since Mesh had left.  But Nick was recovering slowly from this one.  Maybe he was meant to be alone after all.  He had thought that he was in love with Mesh and vice-versa but when he had told Nick that he was leaving, it wasn’t as devastating as he had imagined it would be.  They hadn’t fought but there was a glaring problem in their relationship:  Harry Styles.  Mesh was jealous of Harry.  He had wanted Nick to stay away from him, said Harry was a threat to their relationship.  It was a test and Nick had failed miserably.  So Meshach had left to pursue someone other than an ‘Old Queen stuck on a guy who didn’t love him back.’  Okay, so that one had hurt.  Mostly because it was true.

He heard the barista call his name and went to pick up his whipped cream topped calorie fest.  He would have preferred mimosas but BBC1 frowned upon drinking alcohol on the job.  Who knows?  An intoxicated Nick might let something slip and then all hell would break loose.  Nick headed out the door into the temperate air and down Great Portland Street to the BBC studios sipping his drink and looking about at the pedestrians.  He saw several men carrying pink envelopes and packages in a hurry to get to their destinations.

Bollocks.

Pushing through the outer door and waving to George, the security guard, Nick made a beeline for the elevator.  Yeah, he should probably have taken the stairs but he just didn’t want to.  To hell with that.  So he had gained a few pounds since the breakup.  What of it?  He had been too thin drinking all those juices and fasting and working out.  Yeah, that was it. He was almost convincing himself.  What happened to the men who wanted a normal guy instead of the impossibly hard-muscled exercise fanatics?  A little pudge never hurt anyone.  Look at Harry with those little love handles.  Men and women adored them and professed the desire to just “nibble” them.  Okay, bad topic.   He didn’t want to think about nibbling Harry anywhere right now, his jeans were too tight to be sporting a boner in the office.  The elevator door opened and he stepped out into the warren of cubicles.  Slurping the remains of his drink while walking to his desk, every person who passed him smiled in a knowing way.  Narrowing his gaze suspiciously at the tenth person to smirk at him, he rounded the corner to his office.

On his desk was an enormous vase with at least three dozen red roses.  What was this?  Rarely was Nick shocked into silence but he stood mouth agape while his mind raced. Who?  He noticed a card on the arrangement and plucked it off.

To:  Nick Grimshaw

From: Someone who loves you.

Oh that was helpful.  It was even typed so no clues from the handwriting.  Were they from a fan?  His mum?  Alexa?  He sniffed.  Their perfume was filling his office.  He buried his face in them and inhaled deeply.  God he loved roses.  Standing up straight he could not remove the smile from his lips.

Someone coughed behind him and he turned to see Annie Mac smiling at him.

“Check you out, lover!  Who’re they from?”

Nick hesitated, an embarrassed heat rising to his cheeks.

“Don’t know.”

“Well, what’s the card say?”

“Says they’re from ‘someone who loves’ me,” he answered quietly.

“A secret admirer!  Oh that’s the ticket.  You’ll just have to do some detective work.”

Annie backed out of the doorway and Nick was alone once again.  Who would have sent these to him? The mystery would have to wait, he had a show to get ready for.  He sat at the desk and logged in to the computer.  He checked the latest headlines and made some notes.  E-mail was next and he skimmed through the 30 or so he had received since yesterday, aware of the constant stream of people past his office stopping to have a look at his flowers.  He made a growly sort of noise under his breath and opened another message.  He was typing a reply when someone knocked at his door.  Looking up he saw a young man wearing a DoorDash jacket holding a McDonald’s bag.

“Are you Mr. Grimshaw?”

Nick cringed at the ‘mister’ but acknowledged that he was.

“I have this delivery for you.  I’m supposed to tell you to check the bag for a note.”

Nick looked at the kid with confusion, but accepted the food.  He rooted his wallet out and tipped the guy.  Opening the bag he felt the heat from the fries.  The kid must have hustled if the food was still hot.  Next to the fries was a quarter pounder with cheese.  He freaking loved quarter pounders. He hadn’t ordered this. Who had?  Remembering the kid saying there was a note he looked deep into the bag.  At the bottom there was a child’s t-rex skeleton valentine signed “Someone who loves you.”  What the hell was going on?  He smiled and munched on a few fries before digging into the burger.  While eating he went down a mental list of who the mysterious person might be.  The alarm on his mobile dinged and he clicked it off then began cleaning up the detritus from his meal.  He picked up his daily file and his phone and headed to the studio.  Fifteen minutes later he began “Hello everybody! Grimmy here. Happy Valentine’s day!”

At 5:45 when the afternoon Newsbeat began, Nick took a quick break.  Heading to his office to get another bottle of water out of the small fridge there he found a wrapped package on his desk.   The card said “From Someone who loves you.”  He didn’t have time to open it but just shook his head in wonder and headed back to the studio.  He had only a couple of minutes until he was back on the air for another hour.

“And that’s it for me everybody.  See you on MONDAY!”

Nick hit the outro and took off his headphones as Annie Mac suited up for her show.  They chatted for a few minutes and then Nick headed to his office to finish up and head out.  Well, head home.  He wasn’t going out.  Biggest date night of the year and he didn’t have one.  What he did have was three more wrapped gifts on his desk. He just stared at them as if they might explode.  Oh Cripes. What if they were bombs? He edged toward the desk and took a closer look.  Each was tagged with a typed “From Someone who Loves You.”  He only debated for a moment before sitting down and pulling one over.  Gently tearing the paper he unwrapped it to find a bottle of his favorite cologne. He smiled.  He was almost out at home.  This was perfect.

He was a little less timid opening the next one which contained a small package of Charbonnel et Walker truffles.  Oh god they smelled good.  He would wait until he got home to eat them, and he would eat them all.  The next gift was a hammered copper tea kettle from the mid-1900s along with a sampling of teas from TWG.  He heard himself coo over it.  It was polished to a high sheen and he could not stop the smile that spread over his face.  He opened the last package and let out a small whoop of delight. A gift certificate to the hot new restaurant HIDE was nestled in some glittery tissue paper.

He sat back and looked at his haul.  All the gifts had to have been chosen just for him; his favorite tea, his favorite chocolate, an antique kettle for his collection.  Someone took a great deal of time to make this day special for him.  But who the hell?  He finished his ruminating and packed up his gifts then headed out of the office.  Harry was coming over for pizza and a movie and he didn’t want to be late.

*

Nick had just finished dressing after his shower when he heard the door buzzer.  Harry must have forgotten his key again.  He opened the door to see his friend carrying a bottle of wine, a pizza box and a bouquet of bright flowers.  Nick took the wine and flowers and Harry kissed his cheek as he passed on his way to the kitchen.  After greeting Pig and Stinky properly, he noticed the roses.

“Nice flowers.  Who are they from?”  Harry asked.

“Don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“The card says from ‘someone who loves you’.”

“That’s strange.  You have no idea?”

“No and that’s not the half of it.  There were gifts and even a quarter pounder.”

“Woah.  You must have a fan,” Harry said with his dimples making an appearance.

“Yeah.  Proof that there’s at least one,” Nick smiled ruefully.

They moved to the lounge and put the pizza on the table before loading the DVD in the player.

“Oh not this one again.  Seriously, we’ve seen this at least a dozen times.”

“Nicholas, you cannot see “The Notebook” too many times.  Besides, it’s perfect for the day—a lifelong love affair.”

“God, you are such a romantic.”

Harry gave him a grin.   “Shut up and pour the wine.”

Nick’s mind began to wander about halfway through the movie.  Harry was stretched out next to him watching with rapt attention, his lips moving along with the words.  Nick rolled his eyes.  He turned his attention to his mysterious gift giver.  He ran down the list of possible people, dismissing each one. He was so engrossed in his mystery, he didn’t realize that the movie had been paused. Harry had sat up and was looking at him.

“What?”

“You aren’t watching.  Again.”

“I’m trying to figure out who sent all this stuff to me.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, not to me.”

“So you have spent the day thinking of all the people who love you.”

“I guess…I guess I have. Yes,” Nick answered thoughtfully.

Harry was staring at him with those intense green eyes.  Nick almost got lost in the depths.

“Well then good.  Though I am a bit disappointed that you didn’t immediately know it was me.”

Nick felt a rush of adrenaline and, what was that? Hope. Oh god it was hope.  He just stared at Harry, mouth agape. Harry reached his hand up and Nick expected him to push his chin up and close his lips but instead he caressed his cheek.  Before Nick could react, Harry kissed him.  It was a sweet, slow kiss.  He pulled back and looked at Nick’s surprised expression.  With a smile, he leaned in again and kissed him more thoroughly.  Nick reveled in the taste of him, it was addictive.  Nick leaned back as Harry continued his conquest of his mouth.  Harry began kissing along his jaw, soft and tender.

Nick groaned as Harry paused to unbutton his shirt.

“Who else knows about you and the tea kettles?  Hmm?”  Harry asked as he opened the silk exposing his skin.  Harry’s tongue found the pulse in his neck and sucked lightly before moving down to his nipples.   Nick felt an almost electric shock run through his body and coalesce in his cock.  He was light headed, probably from the blood rushing to his genitals.  Harry kept toying with his nips until Nick was squirming with desire.

“You should have guessed me first.  Because I love you.”

Harry ran his tongue around Nick’s navel and headed lower.  Nick wrapped his fingers in those chocolate curls as the delicious arousal turned his bones to jelly.  His happy trail provided a path that Harry obligingly followed, skin and muscles clenching as he moved.

Harry paused to unbutton Nick’s jeans, sliding his finger along the waistline on his now hypersensitive skin.

“I love you Nick Grimshaw.  I always have,” Harry said, making eye contact.  “I am not quite ready to settle down.  Not just yet.  But when I am, it’s you.”

Nick blinked in surprise.  He almost pinched himself.  Harry.  He had loved him from the first. The vivacious teen with his sweet and naughty demeanor.  The beautiful boy who was now the beautiful man in front of him.  His hands were shaking.

“I plan to marry you.  To adopt 4 or 5 kids with you.  To grow old with you.”

Harry wiped a tear from Nick’s cheek and kissed him again.

“Now, let me love you silly goose.”

Harry had Nick’s jeans unzipped and he lifted his hips so that Harry could pull them down.  Harry smiled and licked his lips at the bulge in Nick’s boxers.  Nick shivered in anticipation.  Harry, the tease that he was, took his time licking and running his fingers over the fabric barely containing Nick’s erection.  Hooking his index fingers under the elastic, Harry lifted it over and pulled it down.  Nick’s cock sprang free and slapped lightly against his abdomen. That was all the encouragement Harry needed.  He went to work, sucking and licking and fingering until Nick was panting.  The sight of those soft pink lips wrapped around him again…it had been so long.  Harry slid his tongue under the foreskin and circled the head, collecting all the salty liquid oozing from the tip. When Harry took him all into his mouth and swallowed around him Nick began to babble and buck his hips.

Harry popped off and grinned at him as his fingers swirled Nick’s balls on their way lower, to massage the opening.  Nick clenched and groaned.  Harry intensified his massaging and resumed his oral attack.  Pushing a finger slowly inside caused Nick to groan and close his eyes.  Two fingers and a deep throat and Nick shouted as he came.  Harry swallowed the evidence and eased his fingers out as Nick flinched at the feeling on his sensitive flesh.

Harry slid back up Nick’s body and kissed him.

Nick whispered “I love you so much.”

Harry grinned and kissed him again.  “As I love you.”

A/N:  It’s never too late for romance.  

[hazeofhearts]

Back Seat Bingo (Connor x reader)

Warnings: mentions of abuse

You had made your love for 1950’s films known publicly from simply how you decorated your little cubical at the station. You had several film star posters up on the walls, including Fred MacMurray, Edward G. Robinson and Barbra Stanwyck. People made light fun at you but never pushed it too hard. You were always friendly to everyone in the office.

Connor had noticed your unique niche interest, taken note and stored it in his data banks for a later date. When it came time for the precinct Secret Santa, Connor had miraculously gotten you and had scoured the internet for hours trying to find mint condition films to buy you. Hank was pissed that over $200 got charged to his account but when he saw how happy Connor was at your excitement, he let it go.

Now though, Hank was currently nursing a headache at the theatrics of his adopted android son. The older man was watching the android pace around his bedroom in their house, his outfit laid out on his bed and his processors whirring.

“Hank? Do you have suspenders?”

“Jesus, son. Why do you need suspenders?”

Connor was quiet for a moment and his hands came together where his stomach would be and he fidgeted with his fingers, a trait he had picked up from subconsciously watching you all the time.

“I want to impress Y/N.”

“I know that, kid,” Hank spoke as he strode into Connor’s room, turning on the lights in the shadow covered room. It was just past sunset and there was dinner waiting on the table for them. Hank had traversed through the wet February snow to get it and he wasn’t about to let it go cold.

“But we can order suspenders tomorrow. Y/N doesn’t know that you’re planning this outfit so really, you have all the time in the world to get your stuff together.”

Connor hummed, nodding and allowing Hank to lead him out to the kitchen.

After dinner, Connor was relaxed on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV with Sumo covering him like a blanket. Hank was rustling around in his room before emerging with a small box. He tossed said box and Connor caught it with one hand before he even turned in the direction of Hank.

“What’s this?”

“Open it and find out.”

Hank settled in the armchair. Connor opened the box and a large smile grew on his face. Plain, black suspenders!

“Thanks, Dad.”

Hank grumbled a bit before picking up a magazine and swiping through it. Connor clicked his tongue, which woke Sumo and said dog lumbered off of him. Connor then rushed to his room, closing the door gently behind him.

Hank watched him go, rubbing Sumo on the head.

“What are we going to do with him, Sumo?”

Sumo could only bark softly in response.

The next morning arrived and with it came Hank’s embarrassment.

“Do ya have to wear that hat?”

“I’ll take it off when we get inside the station but for now, yes.”

Hank cringed into his coffee cup as he watched more people stare at the two of them walking down the street.

Arriving at the station, Connor did indeed take off his black felt fedora but he kept the rest of his outfit on, including the trench coat that Hank thought made him look like a flasher.

Walking through the sliding doors, they caught the attention of many of their coworkers. Gavin nearly shot coffee out of his nose at the sheer ridiculousness that was Connor’s outfit. He was about to comment when they heard a loud squeal coming from your direction.

There you were, hands to your mouth and eyes wide as you spotted Connor. You rushed over quickly, your hands out stretched.

“Hello, Detective L/N. How are you this morning?”

“So much better now than I was doing! Connor, you look almost exactly like Humphrey Bogart! With the coat and the hat and everything! You look so handsome!”

Connor’s processors were overheating at the onslaught of compliments you were giving him. It was true, Humphrey Bogart was his inspiration for this particular outfit but he wasn’t expecting your attention this soon. He didn’t have anything to respond with.

“Thank you, Detective,” Connor said after a moments hesitation where you carefully traced the hem of his coat, clear glee in your eyes.

“This is exactly like his coat in one of his more famous headshots. Where did you manage to find this?”

“A lot of scouring the Internet was needed.”

You huffed out a laugh.

“I can only imagine so. Well, I should let you get back to work. Captain Fowler gave us some new evidence for the case we’re working on together so I’ll let you look it over.”

Hank thanked you, grabbed Connor by the back of his neck and sat him down in his chair.

“Did you get the reaction you wanted?”

“I suppose I did. Did I look.... cool?”

Hank snorted.

“Yes Connor. You looked very cool.”

Your newest case with the boys included several victims of a murder. This included the wife of the murder victim and his three children.

Today you were tasked with interviewing the wife while the children were at school.

“Ma’am, we know that is is a very traumatic event for you. We called you here to see if you could give us any insight or a possible reason your husband was killed. But we encourage you to take all the time you need. We’ll be here to help you.”

After you said this, you slid the tissue box over to the woman trying to keep her tears in. Connor was leaned on the wall behind you, still in his cute 1950s get up. You couldn’t handle it! He was so adorable. You knew that the point was to look manly in those particular outfits but Connor just looked too adorable. You’d been staring at him periodically throughout the morning, easily being distracted. Who knew that your work crush also liked 1950s film noir.

The woman sitting across from you, nearly skeleton thin and wispy blonde hair, took a tissue and blew her nose. It was so loud it echoed in the cinderblock room. You heard rustling behind you and Connor’s jacket went onto the back of the chair by your side.

You kept your eyes on the woman though, as she was the main priority. She was shaking. Her skin was extremely translucent, almost as if she had never seen the sun in her life. You could see the veins in her small hands, which disappeared into the sleeves of her baggy sweater. You noticed that her wedding ring wasn’t on her ring finger.

“M-my husband dealt with r-really harsh people at times and h-he-,” the woman choked back a sob.

You leaned backwards in your chair. You felt Connor lean forward.

“Have everyone leave the observation room except for you. I need her to trust me. In cases like this, it’s usually the spouse. I think we have our killer.”

Connor nodded, taking his jacket. As he left, you noticed suspenders strapped to Connor’s torso and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“W-where’s the android?”

You turned back to the woman and leaned in.

“I told him to leave. He made sure the others in the observation room also left. It’s just you and me.”

“W-why?”

You stretched out your arms and watched as the woman flinched back. You waited for her to calm down and she put her hands in yours.

“Ms. Roberts,” you began, using the woman’s maiden name.

“Cierra,” she interrupted.

“Cierra,” you began again. “We know your husband was a dealer and provider of Red Ice. We know what that drug does to people and what it can do to families. Now, we try not to make the assumption of anything here at the DPD but as a woman not an officer, I can tell you’re keeping something from us.”

Your fingers edged up her hands to her sleeves and she just closed her eyes. You pushed the sleeves up to reveal dark welts circling her wrists and forearms. You choked back your horror, fighting to keep your own tears from falling.

“I did it,” she muttered. “I killed him. He was going to kill my youngest, my Emily. Please you have to believe me. Please don’t send me to jail. She’s in the hospital right now being looked after by my mother.”

You held Cierra’s hands, which had tightened significantly around yours.

“I understand why you didn’t report the abuse. I understand you wanted to keep your children safe. I will make sure you will walk out of this better than before. You and your children are safe now.”

Cierra let go of your hands and collapsed onto the table face down, sobbing loudly in what seemed like relief. You turned to the one way mirror and gave the smallest incline of your head to show you were done.

After you had someone escort Cierra back to the hotel she and her kids were staying at, you decided to go out for lunch. Connor had elected to come with you but Hank declined. He had pulled Connor back to him and talked to him for a few minutes before he let his son go.

Now you were walking down the street, breathing in the crisp air and being distracted by Connor. He had forgotten his jacket at the station and now you saw those suspenders doing God’s work in the light of day.

The plain black material stretched perfectly across his torso and pecs. His shirt was tucked into his pants as usual but with his trousers and time period shoes, he looked straight out of a film noir.

“You really look great today, Connor. Is there a specific reason you decided to dress like this?”

You allowed Connor to pull the door open for you at your favourite lunch spot. You didn’t even have to order with how frequently you came here, the wait staff all knew you and your order so you simply sat at a table by the window.

“Yes, actually there is.”

You leaned forward to show him you wanted him to continue.

“I did it to impress you and hopefully win your affection.”

You sat back in your chair, stunned into silence. The waitress brought your food and set it down before walking quickly away to watch behind the counter.

“Wait.... really?”

“Yes. I’ve felt this way since December when I purchased those films for you for Christmas.”

You processed this. Your work crush liked you back? This was better than you could even imagine! What a twist of events this day was bringing.

“Well, we should probably do something about that. How about a movie date tonight? A regular movie, not a film noir.”

Connor fiddled with his hands on the table, a wide smile on his face.

“I’d love to.”

[justsomebucky]

Close Your Eyes

Summary: Halloween AU. Reader and her friends attempt to watch The Conjuring.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,827

Warnings: language, horror, movie spoilers, fluff, reference of not at all nice death, attempted scary stuff where the only scary thing is my bad writing, and oh yeah there’s a gif of Annabelle under the cut...Did I mention MOVIE SPOILERS?

A/N: This is for @rotisserierogers Halloween challenge. Sorry in advice Kumi love. My prompt was “Close your eyes.”  PS I tried to watch this movie and this is what became of it. Reader shares my feelings. LOL

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you grumbled, settling down on the corner of the huge sofa. You tugged a blanket around your shoulders and pulled your legs up onto the cushion, trying to get comfortable while basically cocooning yourself for safety.

Your best friend, Sam Wilson, just rolled his eyes at you as he sat down clutching a bowl of popcorn. “It’s one scary movie, Y/N. It’s not going to kill you, which is more than I can say for the characters.”

The two of you were in his apartment near campus for Halloween horror movie night. He was a huge fan of everything Halloween, so his entire apartment was decorated with skeletons, spider webs, pumpkins, the whole nine yards.

You, on the other hand…well, Halloween was fun when it came to costumes, but you could do without the horror and blood and guts.

Maybe you could distract yourself.

“Who else is coming again?”

“Steve, Nat, and that Bucky guy.”

“That Bucky guy? Really, Sam?” Now it was your turn to mock him. “He was your roommate freshman year.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, and I ditched him and suddenly my grades improved. Bad juju.”

A loud bang on the front door made you jump a little, and you watched with wide eyes as your three other friends piled into the room.

“Hey. So what’re we watching?” Steve asked, settling in the armchair. “A little Buzzfeed Unsolved?”

“Nah.” Sam held up the movie. “Hey there, demons, it’s ya girl Annabelle.”

He reached for the DVD case. “The Conjuring? Are you sure Y/N can handle this?”

“Shut up, Steve, I already don’t want to be here,” you laughed, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it and hugged it to his chest, giving you a cheeky grin.

“I might be with Y/N on this one, Steve,” Natasha added, flopping on the couch on Sam’s other side. “Evil dolls are just creepy.”

“Buncha Halloweenies,” Sam muttered.

Even though the couch was big enough for four people, Sam had stretched out so that there wasn’t room for Bucky to sit down.

He gave Bucky a pointed look. “Sorry, Barnes. Looks like you get the floor.”

You glared at Sam before scooting over toward him, forcing him to get closer to Natasha. “I don’t think you’ll mind sparing the extra room, will you, Sam?”

He knew the look you were giving him. It was the one you always gave him when he went on and on about Natasha but refused to ask her out. You’d threatened on more than one occasion to tell her yourself if he didn’t ask her out soon.

“That’s cold,” Sam muttered, relenting the extra space. “I’ll remember that, Y/N. Don’t forget, I know things, too.”

He was referring to your ridiculous crush on Bucky, of course. If only you hadn’t decided that half a bottle of vodka was on the menu two weeks ago, you’d never have admitted a thing to someone as traitorous as Sam.

Bucky Barnes was the object of your affection, but it seemed like that really soul-crushing kind of unrequited love where you knew nothing would ever come of it.

He was smart and active, and he volunteered with charities and got good grades. He had plans for his future all laid out, and you were pretty sure you weren’t in any of them. No, Bucky hadn’t even had a girlfriend the whole time you’d known him. Maybe he just wasn’t the relationship type.

Either way, every time you were near him you wished things were different between you. This seemed like a good opportunity to be near him, at least.

You patted the open space where you had been sitting at the corner of the couch. “Come on, Bucky. There’s room now.”

Bucky nodded and tucked himself on the end of the sofa, his arm brushing yours ever-so-slightly, but enough to send a shiver over your skin. “Thanks. Sam’s the absolute worst.”

“He’s not so bad,” you replied, glancing at your best friend. “Except for when he forces me to watch horror movies.”

“Speaking of!” Sam grabbed the remote and pressed play on the DVD. “Steve, can you hit the lights?”

“Sure, man.”

The room was plunged into darkness, and of course the first thing you see on the screen is a freaking creepy doll.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you groaned, wringing your hands together. “Who would want a doll like that?”

“There wouldn’t be a movie if someone didn’t,” Sam said, shaking his head at you before looking back to the screen.

Yeah, well, maybe some movies just shouldn’t be made.

You bit your lip, already able to tell that there would be scenes that would come back to haunt you in your nightmares.

Bucky leaned over then, his breath warm on your ear. “Listen, you don’t have to watch the whole thing. You can look away or something. Close your eyes.”

“I’ll never hear the end of it, though,” you whispered back, turning your face toward him. That proved to be a mistake, because now your lips were mere inches away from his.

His eyes flickered down to your mouth, then back up as he moved back a little. “Just a suggestion.”

Dammit. Now you had a bigger regret than watching this stupid movie…you ruined a potentially intimate moment with the crush of your life.

Not that this was the time or place...or setting...but still!

You tried to focus on the film, watching nervously as two characters crept out into a darkened hall. They answered a door after something knocked aggressively, but no one was there.

Of course no one was there. And of course ‘no one’ left a creepy note.

The second bang on a different door made you flinch so visibly that Bucky turned his worried eyes toward you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Someone get Y/N a Xanax, please,” Natasha snickered, eyes never leaving the screen.

“Hilarious,” you muttered, pulling the blanket up around you a little tighter. You tried not to react as Bucky shifted in his seat, leaning a little closer to you.

The movie settled into a lighter pace, with two investigators explaining the case of an attempted demonic possession. You didn’t mind this part. As a fan of crime shows and the X-Files, you were okay with this sort of thing.

Of course, the lighter mood didn’t last long as a ‘based on a true story’ disclaimer appeared and eerie music played.

You watched as an innocent family arrived with a moving van to another creepy house. It was always the cute ones, wasn’t it? So innocent and dumb.

“Oh god,” you whispered. “Not the dog. They better not hurt the dog.”

To your right, Sam chuckled again, but said nothing. He’d seen this before…he was willing to let you suffer, obviously.

The father character went down a flight of stairs into a darkened room with just a match. Why were horror movie characters always so willing to do dangerous things alone? Nothing good ever happened in dark, spider-covered secret rooms.

“It’s not so bad yet, right Y/N?” Steve asked, glancing at you for a second. “It’s just an old house.”

“They’re just laying the groundwork, Steve,” you replied, pulling the blanket up over your chin. “There’s bound to be some stupid music box or some wind-up toy. Something awful.”

Everyone but Bucky laughed at you. Instead, he seemed to inch a little closer again.

Then the movie went there.

You couldn’t even look, knowing exactly what happened as soon as the little girl screamed…

“No.” You discarded your blanket and stood up to leave the room. “No, no, no. Nope, nope, so many nopes! No. That’s the line. They crossed it. I’m so done, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Aw, come on, Y/N! It’s only like fifteen minutes in!” Sam protested, gesturing to the screen. “That’s like the least of it!”

“I don’t care!”

You didn’t bother to wait for anyone else to react as you hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind you. “Stupid scary movies,” you mumbled, reaching for a bottle of water and chugging for a second.

The door opened and you jumped again, nearly spilling the water on yourself.

“Hey,” Bucky said gently, shutting the door behind him as he moved into the kitchen too. “Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I am not going back in there,” you stated, sitting at the table as if to prove your point. “I kind of want to just go back to my apartment, but I know my roommate isn’t there, so…”

“I’ll go with you, if you want,” he offered, reaching out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We can watch something else?”

You stared up at him in surprise. “Really?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting a little. “I might be a cat person, but that was total bullshit. I wouldn’t mind leaving with you.”

“That’s really nice of you.” You stood up and pushed your chair in, forgetting the water as you made your way through the darkened living room to get your jacket. You weren’t as stupid as that movie family, you knew a good opportunity to get the hell out when you saw it.

Bucky stopped to let everyone know that you two were leaving for the night before following you out of Sam’s apartment.

Once in the hallway, you watched him carefully, trying to get a read on what he was thinking. Did he think you were a total idiot? “Thanks again, Bucky. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Y/N. In fact, I…” He hesitated at the elevator, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I was going to ask you out soon, anyways, so…”

Your heart started racing harder than it did when you were watching a demonic conduit doll wreak havoc. “Really?”

“You seem surprised,” he observed, shaking his head. “I’m not as good at flirting as I thought, I guess.”

“You…flirted with me?”

Bucky laughed. “Tried is the operative word here, Y/N. And yes, practically all semester.”

“Huh.” That was news to you. Maybe you were so worried about what you weren’t, you didn’t realize someone liked you for who you were.

The elevator door opened, and the two of you stepped inside. “I guess I have to be thankful for a stupid horror movie now, don’t I?”

“Guess so,” he said, amusement in his eyes. “Though I think we should switch to something else when we get to your place.”

“We could watch ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas,’” you replied. “It’s Halloween without the scary.”

“I love that movie.”

He held the door for you when you reached the lobby. You stepped outside and shivered, realizing that your jacket was probably too thin for this weather.

“Are you cold?” Bucky asked, falling in step beside you.

“Yeah. Just a little.”

For the second time that night, you found yourself grateful for bad Halloween night choices, as Bucky Barnes put his arm around you to keep you warm.

[dubsism]

Today’s Movie: Road to Zanzibar

Year of Release: 1941

Stars: Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, Dorothy Lamour

Director: Victor Schertzinger

This movie is not on my list of essential films.

NOTE: This installment of Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies is being done as part of something called The Great Ziegfeld Blogathon 2020 being hosted by Hollywood Genes. To quote her, this is an event about…

…Florenz Ziegfeld Jr. – the man himself, his Follies and shows, his spouses and romances, his performers and collaborators, his rivals, films produced by or about him, books about him or those in his sphere…anything goes, as long as it comes back in some way to Ziegfeld!

The link here is Bob Hope, who starred in The Ziegfeld Follies of 1936; The Ziegfeld Follies were a series of musical revues presented from 1907 through 1931, 1934, 1936, 1943, and 1957.

The Story:

While it may or may not make sense, for me “Road to Zanzibar” marks the beginning of the famed series known as the “Road” movies featuring Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, and Dorothy Lamour.  That’s because I saw this one first, so in my mind it’s the beginning even though “Road to Singapore” was released the year before. But to be fair, “Road to Zanzibar” is a sequel to “Road to Singapore” in name only; the major players play different character roles in “Singapore” than they do in “Zanzibar.”

Not to mention, the other thing which doesn’t make sense here…Zanzibar is actually a series of islands off the coast of present-day Tanzania in East Africa.  There ain’t no road that goes there…

As for the film itself, the plot of “Road to Zanzibar” centers on the exploits of boyhood buddies Chuck Reardon (played by Bing Crosby) and Hubert “Fearless” Frazier (played by Bob Hope).  They are carnival hucksters; Chuck is the classic smooth talking con-man and “Fearless” is the daredevil who gets shot out of a cannon. One day, they are using a dummy in place of “Fearless.” The trick was supposed to be the dummy being shot through a “ring of fire,” but the dummy gets set alight, lands on a tent, and the resulting fire burns the entire carnival to the ground.

Naturally, after having burned the carnival down, Chuck and “Fearless” have worn out their welcome and need to get out of town in a hurry. This results in a series of escapades, usually getting more ridiculous over time and frequently ending with “Fearless” getting hurt somehow.  Naturally, after a while “Fearless” loses his interest in this, and wants to return home to the United States.  The problem is “Fearless” discovers Chuck has blown all their money buying the deed to a diamond mine. Things only get worse when they discover the guy Chuck bought the deed from is a “looney-tuner” and it’s worthless.

As you would expect, “Fearless” is furious with Chuck and abruptly ends their partnership.  The split is short-lived as “Fearless” returns a bit later claiming he unloaded the mine on a sucker for $7,000. Right about then, the “sucker” Monsieur Le Bec (played by Lionel Royce) shows up and wants “Fearless” to give him a tour of the mine. Once again, Chuck and “Fearless” realize they need to get out of town quickly, so they hop onboard a boat headed for Africa.

Once there, they are immediately approached by Julia Quimby (played by Una Merkel).  She wants to enlist them for a rescue mission saving  to help rescue her friend Donna LaTour (played by Dorothy Lamour) from being sold at a slave auction. They place a bid which secures her release, but what Chuck and “Fearless” don’t know is Julia and Donna are also con-artists.  As such, Donna tells Julia about the money Chuck and ‘Fearless’ have. She also spills her plot to get Chuck and “Fearless” to take them across the jungle to see Donna’s “long lost brother,” who in reality is a millionaire named J. Theodore Brady who she intends to marry.

Along the way, a love triangle begins to form among Chuck, “Fearless,” and Donna; but that falls by the wayside when the boys discover that Julia and Donna are a couple of American showgirls-turned-fraudsters. This results in Chuck and “Fearless” being stranded and lost in the jungle. During their attempt to find their way back to civilization, Chuck and “Fearless” come across a cave full of skeletons and drums.

Being a pair of typical dumb-asses, they start banging on the drums which ultimately summons a tribe of natives.  At first, the natives think Chuck and “Fearless” are gods and they adorn them with jewels, food, and other goodies. Things start to go sideways when the natives decide to test them by throwing “Fearless” in a cage with a gorilla.  Being a supposed “god,” he is supposed to easily dispatch with the giant primate…which he comically does not.  As a result of failing this test, the natives prepare to cook them.

This leads to what may very be the “signature” scene in this film; when Chuck and “Fearless” use the infamous “Patty-Cake” routine to confuse the natives and escape.  Afterward, they manage their way back to civilization.  Having been lost in the jungle, they are obviously haggard and dirty. But fortunately, they aren’t broke because they have the jewels the natives gave them.  The return to civilization also sees them re-united with Donna and Julia, as Donna gave up the rich guy because she was in love with Chuck.  The film ends by coming full circle; the four of them end up starring in a carnival act.

The Hidden Sports Analogy:

The mind that sees these analogies between sports and movies spent it’s developmental years taking in plenty of both.  I started with sports, but discovered the other as “Movie for A Rained-Out Ballgame.” But it wasn’t until I signed up for this blog-a-thon that I saw the similarity between the partnership of Bing Crosby and Bob Hope and their equivalent in the sports world…the broadcast duo of Vin Scully and Joe Garagiola.

“Road to Zanzibar” was my introduction to Hope and Crosby; NBC’s “Game of the Week” served that purpose for Scully and Garagiola. In both cases, as teams Hope/Crosby and Scully/Garagiola became legendary. As individuals, they all became superstars. Bing Crosby spent decades as a huge name in Hollywood; both on the screen and as a recording artist…it’s pretty hard to say a guy who had 63 top-ten singles wasn’t a beast behind the microphone.  He also paired with David Bowie for one of the great odd pop-culture moments of all time.

Vin Scully was nothing new to me as a kid; he had been the voice of the Los Angeles Dodgers since before the team had come to California in 1958. The irony of his success as a pair with Garagiola was the fact that Scully was notorious for being a “one-man show” during Dodger games, a fact that remained right up until his retirement after the 2016 season and celebrated in what I think is one of the funniest things on YouTube I’ve seen in a long time.

Vin Scully became the voice of baseball, not just the Dodgers. Since he’s now retired, and if you never experienced the joy that is Vin Scully, here is one of the great Scully calls of all time re-enacted (1986 World Series, Game 6 – The “Error On Buckner” call) with Nintendo RBI Baseball. Simply put, of all the evils of Dodger baseball I’ve ranted  (I hate the Los Angeles Dodgers more than earaches and tax audits combined), none can erase the joy that was listening to Vin Scully.

But Bob Hope and Joe Garagiola transcended their respective worlds.

The name “Bob Hope” will be one of those which will live as long as there are classic film fans, as evidenced by this very post. It lived in the sports world until 2020 on the placard for the Professional Golfer’s Association (PGA) event he created in 1960; the Bob Hope Desert Classic; it fell victim to the trend of selling the naming rights to deep-pocketed corporations. But the name “Bob Hope” will surely live forever in the town where that golf tournament is held; Bob Hope literally built Palm Springs, California.

Despite the heights reached by Joe Garagiola’s fame, I’m afraid his name will be forgotten as soon as the guys like me who remember him are gone. But Garagiola transcended sports to become arguably the biggest star on television in the 1960s and 70s; he was everywhere in the pre-cable “rabbit ears” television world.  It’s hard to argue that at his peak, Joe Garagiola was not one of the  most recognizable faces on American TV.

To illustrate that, name somebody else who can check all these boxes:

Bob Hope hosted the Academy Awards 19 times, but he never filled in for Johnny Carson.

Professional athlete

World Series champion

Hall of Famer (Ford Frick Award, Baseball Hall of Fame; Missouri Sports Hall of Fame)

Legendary sports broadcaster

Guest host on the “Tonight Show”

Game show host

Co-host of the “Today” show

Network news commentator

Best friend of a sitting U.S. president

Just look at the shots in this slideshow:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Garagiola’s first non-sports related television appearance came in 1960 when he appeared onstage at a campaign even for then-Senator John F. Kennedy.  Being on live television surrounded by VIPs including including former President Harry S. Truman, Garagiola made a move that put him on the map.  Growing up, Garagiola’s father had been skeptical of Joe’s career choices, and Joe knew that his father would be watching.  Without skipping a beat, Garagiola threw his arm around President Truman, beamed directly into the camera and exclaimed “Hey Pop, I just want you to see who I’m hanging around with now!”

As the saying goes…a star was born.

Garagiola’s new-found “star” status propelled him beyond the world of baseball. He hosted a St. Louis area professional wrestling show titled “Wrestling at the Chase” in the early 1960s; Garagiola’s brother Mickey was the show’s ring announcer. Joe Garagiola also became the long-time regular host of the Orange Bowl Parade in Miami on New Year’s Eve. He was such a popular television figure that NBC saw fit to name him as a regular co-host of the “The Today Show” from 1967-1973 and again from 1990-1992. As such, Garagiola became a fixture amongst the professional journalists of the NBC News team.

Now as an established on-air personality for NBC, Garagiola became a regular guest-host of “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson,” including the only live performance of any member of The Beatles on that program while they were still together when John Lennon and Paul McCartney were guests on the show in May of 1968.

If that weren’t enough, all during this time, Garagiola also hosted the game shows “He Said, She Said,” “Joe Garagiola’s Memory Game,” “Sale of the Century,” “To Tell the Truth,” and the short-lived “Strike it Rich.” When he wasn’t hosting game shows, Garagiola was a regular panelist on Gene Rayburn’s “The Match Game,” which was one of the most popular television shows of the 1970s.

He was on it so much that for a time in the 1970s, television could have easily have been re-named “Garagiola.”

Later on, Garagiola introduced himself to a whole new generation when he became the co-host of the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show for the USA Network from 1994-2002. But what endeared Joe Garagiola to me was NBC’s baseball “Game of the Week.” You need to remember this was the 1970s; well before cable-TV and dedicated sports channels. That meant if you wanted to see baseball which wasn’t your hometown team, “Game of the Week” was one of your only options.

When you are a kid developing what will become a life-long love for baseball, that’s huge. It didn’t take long for Garagiola’s true talent to shine through; he was a tremendous story teller. He wasn’t polished or eloquent; he was genuine and likable.  He was everybody’s “Uncle Joe;” that one guy at ever family gathering who had a laughing crowd around him.  He was never trying to be the center of attention, but somehow always ended up there.

NBC’s “Game of the Week” became “appointment television,” and it didn’t take long for Garagiola to become a bigger attraction than the game.  I started hoping for a boring game, because that allowed far ore time for Garagiola to do what he did best…tell stories about baseball. But it wasn’t the stories that made Garagiola a star, it was his ability to connect with people. That’s how a guy who’s world was originally all about baseball ended up putting the world in his catcher’s mitt.

The Moral of the Story:

Never underestimate the power of being liked.

P.S. For the classic film fan segment of this audience, on my list of favorite actors and their sporting equivalents, Joe Garagiola compared favorably to Van Johnson.

P.P.S. To hear a roast of and eulogy for Joe Garagiola, check out Episode #39 of the now-defunct Radio J-Dub podcast* (forward to the 17:30 mark for the segment containing Garagiola)

* – Rated “R” for language

Check out Dubsism’s Movies and Blog-A-Thons page for a full schedule of projects past, present, and future!

Got a question, comment, or just want to yell at us? Hit us up at  dubsism@yahoo.com, @Dubsism on Twitter, or on our Pinterest,  Tumblr, Instagram, Snapchat or Facebook pages, and be sure to bookmark Dubsism.com so you don’t miss anything from the most interesting independent sports blog on the web.

Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies – Volume 78: “Road to Zanzibar” Today's Movie: Road to Zanzibar Year of Release: 1941 Stars: Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, Dorothy Lamour…

[jugandbettsdetectiveagency]

Behind the Rear Window - Ch.1

Rear Window AU. When injured photojournalist Jughead Jones thinks he sees a man murder his wife from the window of his apartment it’s up to him to convince the police, and socialite-cum-girlfriend Betty Cooper, that what he saw actually happened, and what starts out as an investigation may just be the key to unlocking a few of their own skeletons in the closet.

First chapter of my multi fic! Rear Window is one of my favourite films and when I was watching it recently I realised just how easy it would be to slip these characters into the world of Hitchcock’s movie. This film, for those of you who haven’t seen it, is very observation and conversation heavy, so while the plot is pretty much the same here it’s those aspects where it will differ some. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy!

(special thank to @formergirlwonder for reading over this chapter! She’s an absolute gem!)

Read here on AO3

Jughead Jones had always known that bricks and mortar did not make a neighbourhood. His thoughts were only confirmed every time he regarded the rear windows facing the shared back alley courtyard from the vantage point of his second story apartment. The last hints of pink and orange faded from the sky, revealing another clear, sunny Riverdale day as the clock crept closer to morning. Each window frame became a small screen, most with cracked and peeling off-white paint. As he sat sleeping in his wheelchair, performances played out behind the open shutters and ajar glass panes; the tiny colony was beginning to bustle.

The man who spent his nights camped out on the fire escape, mattress and all, stirred as the first blinding rays cast their glow over his closed eyelids. His name wasn’t known to Mr Jones, but he certainly knew his wife’s was Ginger, given the amount of times he heard it pleaded at all hours of the day and night. To Jughead, he was simply ‘Mr Screw-Up’. The man stretched, rubbing the heel of a palm into his sleep encrusted eye, before standing precariously on his broken spring mattress and wobbling his way to the open window. He glanced furtively inside, checking left and right for signs that he could make an attempt to gain access back into his abode for the morning ritual of washing, shaving, and listening to early morning advertisements on the radio. Guaranteed, he’d be back sulking on the stairwell before eight thirty.

Jughead flinched on the edge of sleep as cawing crows swooped a little too closely to his window. He had left it ajar to combat the oppressive heatwave invading his apartment, which had left beads of sweat balancing in miscellaneous constellations atop his slightly wrinkled forehead, but his effort appeared to be in vain. Blinking into wakefulness, Jughead swiped at the moisture, which tickled while it dripped down his temples. As he came to, still in his chair by the window, he glanced down at his leg, adorned with a cumbersome cast stretching from his toes to his pelvic bone. Jughead sighed; he’d hoped that this time his hindrance really would have been a dream. His eye caught the bold, black pen strokes against the slightly discoloured plaster, and he allowed himself a chuckle as he read once more the words, “rather a broken bone than a broken spirit”, written in the hasty cursive of his superior, Kevin Keller. His chuckle turned to a grimace as a twinge turned to an itch, fate conveniently placing it directly out of reach beneath the bulky aid to healing.

The glint of a copper penny stole his attention, though, returning his gaze to the array of scenes awaiting his audience for yet another day in the listless stretch of weeks that he’d been chained to a chair for. The copper belonged to the girl opposite and to the left, her window a few brick widths higher than Jughead’s. Dubbed ‘Miss Legs’, the girl’s flaming red hair hung past her waist in perfectly arranged waves, often mirroring the light as it swung this way and that while she danced before her window. She was a nonstop whirlwind of kicks and strides and spins, low melodic tunes of her record player, thankfully, barely reaching Jughead’s apartment; but he couldn’t deny even he was captivated by her talents. He assumed, she embodying what was considered conventionally attractive, that most other men would be jonesing for the chance to have a glimpse at her in her brassiere and matching briefs as she paraded herself about her household chores. To Jughead her overly full lips, painted a shudder inducing crimson more often than not, seemed suffocating. The train of dance partners that appeared every so often in his line of sight confirmed his suspicions, however.

As she tripped out of view his eye caught a scurrying of burnt umber as the miniature daschund, affectionately cooed after under the name Caramel by Ginger multiple times a day, set its sights on a neighbourhood cat and decided to give chase. Millimetres above the game of cat and dog, Jughead lifted his scrutinising blue eyes to ‘Miss Lonelyhearts’. Still young, attractive though somewhat plain, the woman that earned such a title made frequent habit of setting the table for two, eating for one, and then crying herself into a stupor as the empty chair opposite failed once again to partake in the evening’s conversation. Her thick, mousey hair frequented a tight twist at the nape of her neck, round glasses perched just so on the bridge of her delicate nose, eyes wide and unassuming. Her usual dress was erring just slightly on this side of try-hard, but Jughead had seen her at her worst – tattered, flowery hand-me-downs shrouding her fragile figure as she knocked back the wine poured for her, and then the wine poured for her date. Having never seen another soul in the apartment in all their days occupying the same courtyard he only knew her real name by her woeful, self-pitying cries of “oh, Geraldine” that always rang out when he was just drifting off, jolting him back from the edge of unconsciousness.

The next curtain pulling up moved his eye away from her tired face to the window directly above. A worn looking man with dark skin and deep set eyes trudged through his apartment, pulling up the shades as if he were reluctant to face another day. His balding head shone with perspiration in the early morning heat, shoulders dropping several degrees as he exhaled a mournful sigh, head turning to his left. An overly long pause passed before he began to move again, disappearing from view for a moment before the shades covering the next window along rippled and rose, revealing a bedroom. Crumpled sheets were occupied by an elegant woman in her mid-thirties, probably once the height of beauty but now looking as if she’d seen better days. Her frame was withered and meek and her hair hung limp and lifeless around her face. Her smile, Jughead noted, had not met the same foibles of time. She beamed at her husband, head tilting to one side as she spoke, looking more the young girl Jughead imagined she once was in that moment. Her husband nodded, slow and mechanical, before moving back to the kitchen, collecting a tray of breakfast foods, and then returning, setting it gently over the ridges of her legs under the blankets. He leaned in to place a chaste kiss against her cheek before retiring to the adjoining bathroom. His attentive, husbandly duties had earned him the title ‘Mr Caretaker’.

The sight of breakfast made Jughead’s own stomach rumble in anticipation. He wheeled back from his usual perch, rolling past the cabinets and shelves holding countless camera parts – flashes, lenses, bulbs – all stacked and presented perfectly. A tower of copies of the latest issue of Life magazine took up the side table by the front door, his photograph adorning their front covers, staring back at him in duplicate. The rest of the apartment was an unorganised disarray of knickknacks and keepsakes. Broken mechanical parts, overly read and worn copies of his favourite books, boxes upon boxes of old yellowing magazines he called ‘inspiration’ flooded the space. His old typewriter, barely breathing amid the flurry of tat on his desk, took centre stage.

The shrill ringing of his telephone pulled an exasperated sigh from Jughead’s lips as he just managed to manoeuvre his way to the kitchen’s threshold. Reversing a couple of inches he shoved the discarded dress shirt out of the way before picking up the shiny, black receiver.

“Jones,” he spoke into the phone, voice slightly hoarse from disuse. He cleared his throat.

“Well, it doesn’t exactly sound like you’ve been celebrating,” the voice of his assignment manager at the magazine, Kevin, crackled over the line, his tone taking on a minor lilt of amusement that had the skin of Jughead’s back prickling, and not from the excessive heat.

“What exactly is there to celebrate, Keller?” Jughead asked, rolling his neck slightly to ease the tightness he’d suddenly become aware of.

“Have I got the wrong day? Seven weeks since Wednesday – that cast should be coming off by now,” Kevin answered, confused. Jughead huffed a disgruntled breath out of his nose, pressing his lips together.

“Right day, wrong week,” he lamented, throwing a dirty look at his offending leg. Kevin’s laugh rung out of the speaker.

“I told you to stand further to the left,” he chastised, referring to the incident that caused Jughead’s current predicament. He’d been given the go-ahead to stand directly on the track for an in-action shot of the racers in the Grand Prix. Only Jughead would have had the balls to do it, Kevin thought, watching him stride purposefully onto the tarmac to get the snap of a lifetime. He’d worked it all out, what he thought was perfectly. What he didn’t account for was the slight nudge one car gave another as it attempted to undertake on the sharp bend, bumper clipping the rear door and sending it winding off course for a moment, long enough to clip Jughead in the hip, throwing him into an ungraceful heap against the barriers.

“Still got the shot though,” he returned, tone and expression equally smug as he remembered the way he cradled the camera against his chest during the fall, concerned only for the protection of the precious roll of film inside. He distinctly recalled the flicker of satisfaction he’d felt as his finger pushed the button, the way the light flashed as it had seemingly heralded the end of his life.

“It’s quite the shot indeed,” Kevin agreed. “Story isn’t half bad either.” The corners of Jughead’s mouth tilted upwards at the deprecating compliment. There was only the distinct static of the line for a moment as neither man attempted to speak. Eventually, Kevin sighed. “Well, if you’re still cooped up for another week then I guess I can’t offer you this assignment.” Jughead’s back straightened as he sat up. He noticed, briefly, that Miss Legs was practicing pirouettes as she scrubbed a dish.

“What’s the job?” he asked, fingers tightening around the receiver, itching to get the camera in his hands once more. Six weeks had seemed an eternity.

“South America, month or so, heading into the camps,” Kevin recited, keeping the details vague. It didn’t matter, however: Jughead was already hooked.

“Can it wait a week?” he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice, leaning ever further forward in his wheelchair until the irksomely hard edge of his cast digging into the soft planes of his stomach prevented him.

“Going stir crazy, huh?” Kevin guessed, a slight note of sympathy creeping into his voice. Jughead sighed, settling back against the leather backing of the chair. Mr Screw-Up was blowing unfurling smoke curls into the air as he rested against the metal railings. He was early today. Jughead briefly considered deducing what Screw-Up had done this time, before dismissing the notion as boring.

“You have no idea.”

“How much time have you spent at that window of yours?” Kevin asked suddenly, catching Jughead off guard. He bristled.

“A while,” he retorted with a stubborn air. Mr Caretaker sat on his couch and put his head in his hands as Kevin’s airy laugh echoed in Jughead’s ears. He felt the sudden, overwhelming desire to hang up.

“Careful, Mr Jones, only the lonesome and embittered spend the majority of their time observing life instead of actually living it,” Kevin joked, and Jughead could practically hear him shaking his head gently in mock disapproval. The words struck a chord with Jughead, the image of his father springing before he eyes before his mind even allowed it.

The old man (salt and pepper beard, greying streaks in his hair, slightly sunken cheeks) drifted before Jughead’s eyes. Even while awake the picture haunted him, bottle in hand and grimace a permanent fixture on his features. He sat, moaning and complaining about the state of the world, sour to the umpteenth degree about the unfair hand he’d been dealt. He chose instead to dish out biting insults and the occasional brisk smack rather than making any effort to fix the mess he’d made of himself and join the rest of society. Moving past the war had taken its toll on everyone who fought, but on none more than F.P. Jones, Jughead recalled as an acrid taste invaded his mouth.

Jughead shook himself out of his revere, telling himself the fading sting in his right cheek was only a mere ghost. He turned in time to catch Caramel hopping into the basket contraption Ginger employed to haul the pup up onto her fourth floor balcony, its little legs unable to handle the climb. Kevin’ voice drifted back to his ears.

“You should get married. They say there’s never a dull moment…” Jughead ignored him.

“Hold the story. One more week,” Jughead commanded, already lifting the phone from his ear. He barely heard Kevin’s exasperated replies.

With a nearly audible eye roll, Kevin muttered, “Who is in charge here?” to no one in particular. A distinct ring cut through the stifling air, signalling that the call was over. 

[iprincezzinuyoukai]

ToMco Valentine Week, Day Three: Valentine’s Day

Well, as everyone has to know, I have never celebrated a Valentine, but here in Mexico is also known as the day of friendship so I dedicate it to everyone. Thank you.

Notes and Warnings: No idea what I just wrote, I'm not good at romance.

You Are Everything I Want

Tom made sure everything was fine for this day, the last thing he needed was for his gift to stay in his dimension. Now he would just apply his last can of hair fixative. Once ready, Tom went to his bed and took the small gift for Marco. He was not hundred percent sure that this gift was ideal for Marco and his human species, he had asked Brian for help after all so maybe they are not so bad. Here in the Underworld they had other customs a little more extreme and intense for someone like Marco.

He walked to his window and jumped to land right in front of the chariot and his horse skeleton. He would gladly appear now in front of the door of the Díaz family but apparently most of the human partners liked to make their partner wait, why? He had no idea.

Once he finally felt that the carriage had reached Earth he got out of the carriage and walked to the front door of the Díaz house, knocking at the door a couple of times until someone finally opened the door.

Tom leaned back against the door frame, “Is this the residence of my future Queen?”

“Probably.”

Tom opened his eyes to see how Marco was dressed. The Latin boy wore a red long-sleeved blouse with black lines on the sleeves, plus red shorts with black striped edges and red stockings that almost seemed to be semitransparent, even Marco had eyeliner to look the same marks that Tom had in his eyes. This work of art certainly shouted Star.

“Do you think it's a lot to just play video games and watch movies?” Marco suddenly felt awkward in dressing like this, at first he had rejected Star's idea but soon his curiosity prevented him from sleeping.

“No!” Tom interrupted, “I mean, I mean.... No, you look good, you look perfectly fine and... Wow, just wow.” Tom tried not to stutter but it was obvious that that would not work.

“Thanks... I think. You do not look too bad for our Valentine.” Marco and Tom walked to the living room and sat down on the sofa, “Or did you plan to get out?”

“No.” Tom answered quickly, sounding very suspicious. “No. Believe me, we'll be much better if we just enjoy ourselves.” Although he sounded nervous Marco seemed to believe him. Tom relaxed in his seat, he would not go out with Marco dressed as well as a whole Incubus when hundreds or perhaps thousands of hungry wolves would be hovering, he would thank Star later and forbid her to do the same to Marco if it was not for him.

Marco turned on the television and placed the video game CD. “Well, you'd better be prepared to be defeated by your own boyfriend.”

“Do you really think you can beat me? I am a Prince of Darkness, the Next King of the Underworld.”

Marco sat down next to him, leaning his back on the edge of the sofa as he settled his legs over Tom's, “Only a week ago you cried that Marshmallow had rejected the carrots.”

“I swear that's not natural.” Tom hissed suspiciously in his voice.

Marco rolled his eyes and proceeded to start the game, the latest remastered version of 'Hackie Hand vs. The League of Evil', “Well, now it will not be natural when I kick your ass with your own moves.”

“You bet I end up crowning the mountain again.”

The first round could have been a draw if it was not because Marco was distracted when one of the pups jumped and barked, scaring both of them and causing Tom to get his first victory, the next round was a bit more fought. With Tom's first advantage the demon prince felt very confident that this was one of his mistakes.

“Where are your parents?” Tom asked not looking away from the video game, this was the final round.

“In one of his dates. Dad yesterday brought a serenade last night and until now they have not returned, I do not think they will return until tomorrow at dawn.”

“Do you remember when we sang that night?”

“We did not sing, you tried to calm my anger.”

“Yeah, what would you have done?”

“At first I thought I was going to hit you and then I'd go home - Poom! That is all!” Marco raised his fists in the air to see that he had won the round, “Good luck to the next one, Tommy.” Marco moved closer to Tom and stirred his hair.

“Ya. All right. This is just for you.” Tom left the remote, now some movies and then the gift exchange. He expected Marco to love his.

“Now what do you want to see?” Marco took the remote control and changed the channel. “Or can we have our gift exchange now?”

“Really?” Tom's ears moved, showing the demon's enthusiasm, “Maybe we can make it even more dramatic.”

“You have always loved the drama. You will be a Drama King.” Marco stood and walked to the kitchen, his gift must be there.

“Was not that your title?”

“What?” Marco seemed to have teleported from the kitchen to the sofa, which surprised Tom, “Did they even call me that? Wait until you see Ferguson and Alfonzo at school.”

“Is that my gift?” Tom saw the ornate box that Marco was hiding behind him, “It's a little bigger than mine.”

“Take it now or I'm going to throw it at one of the dimensions.” Marco handed him the gift and Tom pulled out the small box and handed it to the Latin boy.

They both took their gifts and opened them. Tom found that they were chocolates with almonds, “Star helped me, do not worry, there's no magic in them, Star also wanted some for Janna.”

Marco pulled out a black piercing with a little red crescent, he narrowed his eyes and in the half moon he could read his name. “It's beautiful, will you help me put it on?”

Tom came up beside him and helped him put his piercing, “It's not painful, it's almost like an earring, it has a clasp so you can put it on and remove it whenever you want. It's more to give you a bad boy image.”

“I think you're the best boyfriend I ever had.”

“I've only been your only boyfriend.” Tom hugged Marco. They were both about to kiss when the phone rang and then they sighed. “Time to answer.”

“I do not know who it is, my parents would not call us.” Marco picked up the phone and pressed the button, “Hello?”

“Hi Marco.” It was Star's voice, he was surprised that she had not used her mirror, maybe it was Janna's cell phone. Marco had turned off his cell phone.

“Hey Star,” He let Tom know who it was, “What happen? Is everything okay with the date?”

“Yes, everything was fine.” Star seemed to hesitate before continuing, “Until we got to the pizzeria.”

“Oh right, you two would go to eat pizza when you finished spying on couples.” Marco laughed when Tom almost choked on one of the chocolates when he heard what the date between Star and Janna was about. “Wait, did you get in trouble?”

“Not with couples, rather with the pizzeria.”

“What did you do?” Marco asked.

“Well maybe by accident we knocked out the owner of the pizzeria and the customers got angry and me and Janna offered to make the pizza and ended up using magic and now there is a monster pizza throwing pineapple and ham to the customers.”

“Do you need help?”

“Maybe just a little. I'm sorry to ruin your Valentine's Day.”

“Do not worry, apparently Tom and I were contemplating going out.” Marco hung up the phone and got to his feet.

“So we'll dine out?” Tom headed for the exit.

“Yeah, it'll be pizza and it's probably it who will eat us first.”