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lilacsos · 5 years ago

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Denial LH Part One

A/N: Howdy! This is the first thing I’ve written in a hot minute and I actually really like it. Fun fact when I first thought of this I thought of Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds so yeah. All flashbacks are in italics :)

Words: 4330

Pairing: Luke x Gender Neutral Reader

*Warnings*: Mentions of cheating and throwing stuff, I think like one swear word, oh and I named someone Nicole because I needed a name so sorry if that’s your name

Summary: You and Luke are close childhood friends. Despite what Ashton says, you’re just friends, nothing more and nothing less. Right?

Masterlist Taglist (newest one) *if you were on any previous taglist please put your info on this one*

“Come on Luke! We can’t be late!” The squeaky voice of a small child shouted as they ran down the sidewalk, running as fast as their short legs could carry them.

Behind them, a young blonde boy rushed to try and keep up. “Don’t leave me behind! We have to stay together; my mom will be very upset if I tell her you left me!” The other person groaned and stopped moving while a triumphant smirk made its way onto Luke’s face. “Besides, it’s also your fault that we’re running late Y/N.”

With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest and tapped your foot on the ground as you waited. “Luke we both stopped to pet the dog but you stopped first and like you said, your mom will be very upset if I left you.” You giggled, your own smirk forming. Once Luke finally caught up, you grabbed the young boy by the wrist and dragged him as you continued to run home. You and your family moved into the house next to Luke only three months ago but the two of you quickly became friends and now walked home from school together. You were only ever late once and the disappointed look from Mrs. Hemmings was enough to make sure you were never late again.

You both kept running and in the distance, you could see your houses. With a look at his watch, Luke slowed down to walk. “We have enough time to walk. Unless you enjoy running.” Luke smiled as you also slowed down, walking in step with him. “What do you think of Mr. Martin’s project?”

“I can’t believe he wants us to write a whole paragraph about what we want to be when we grow up! We’re seven!” You threw your hands up into the air with an exasperated whine. “I don’t know what I wanna be. Do you?”

“Yeah!” Luke’s eyes lit up in the afternoon sun and his lips curved into possibly the biggest smile to ever be seen. He bounced a little as he walked and his hands flew out in front of him as he said, “I’m gonna be a rockstar! I’ll sing and play a guitar and have a really cool band. I’ll be so rich and famous I could buy all of Australia!”

Despite Luke’s contagious excitement, you grew quiet, kicking away a pebble. Luke continued to share his dream as you walked the rest of the way home. As you approached the houses, you could each see Mrs. Hemmings through the kitchen window and the smell of dinner wafted out of the open front door. “Luke,” you began, stopping Luke from walking. “When you’re a famous rockstar, promise you won’t forget me.”

Luke cocked his head to the side but his smile never faded. “Of course I won’t forget you! You’re my best friend in the whole world. I could never forget you.” His arms wrapped around you, tugging you close as he tried to hug the worry out of you. “Hey, maybe you can be my maid.” Luke giggled as he was pushed away.

“Then I would have to clean up after you! I’ll never be your maid!” You squealed and ran to your front door and Luke ran to his.

“You’ll change your mind when you see the paycheck!”

“Hello? Earth to Y/N!” You shook your head as the memory faded and the current world took its place. Luke rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder, gesturing to the man waiting to take your order.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You mumbled before giving him your order. The other people at the table laughed which only caused you to roll your eyes. “Will you four shut up?” You and Luke were no longer seven like you were in your memory but most things didn’t change. He still told you horrible jokes when you were upset, you still played rock-paper-scissors when you couldn’t decide who got shotgun, and you were still best friends. Just like Luke told you all those years ago, he became a rockstar. He got to sing and play guitar with a ‘really cool’ band. As Luke’s best friend, Michael, Calum, and Ashton easily became your other best friends and you continued to be the number one 5 Seconds of Summer fan. Out of all of them, excluding Luke, you were the closest to Ashton. He was very easy to get along with; his only flaw is that he had this outlandish idea that you were in love with Luke.

“What were you thinking about anyway?” Ashton asked, sipping his coffee. There was a glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was mischief or maybe the morning light was changing things.

“Just when Luke and I were kids and he told me he was going to be a rockstar.”

“And I offered to let you be my maid but you refused my offer.” Luke chuckled and bumped your shoulder again.

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes. “So even as a child Y/N didn’t want to put up with your bullshit.” The table erupted with laughs and Luke’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you close to his chest as he smooshed your cheeks together between his fingers. You giggled and jabbed your fingers into his sides, causing him to squeal and let you go. Luke continued to giggle and the sound made your heart warm. His laugh was easily your favorite sound in the world. If you ever had a horrible day, all you needed was to hear Luke’s laugh to turn your day around. A smile easily appeared on your face as you looked to your left to see Luke smiling back at you. You stayed like that for a moment until the waiter came back and set your brunch in front of you.

Before you dug into your meal, you could have sworn you saw Ashton nudge Calum while smirking in your direction.

...

“I feel like I just ate my body weight in pancakes.” Calum groaned and slouched down in his chair. A murmur of agreement came from the others around the table before Ashton cleared his throat.

“We can always work off brunch by going on a walk.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes; of course Ashton would be the one to suggest a walk. With their own sounds of disapproval, the boys shook their heads. “Oh come on. There’s a nice park close by.”

Luke sighed and shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nice Ash but taking a walk in the park isn’t going to be easy for us.” He had a point. It was hard for any of the boys to go places without their pictures being taken or getting stopped. Of course they loved getting to talk to fans but sometimes they just wanted to have a normal day.

“Fine if you three won’t come with, will you Y/N?” Ashton asked, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout as he leaned across the table, taking your hands into his. You were going to agree with him that a walk sounded wonderful but you didn’t even have the chance to answer him. “Great!” He tugged you away from the table, gathering your things for you before he rushed off towards the park.

“Well,” you began with a sigh, glancing back at Luke. “Guess I’ll see you guys after my walk. See you later Mike, Cal, Bubs.” With that, you ran after Ashton, punching his shoulder when you caught up to him. “What was that for? I was going to go with you so you didn’t need to force me.”

Ashton shrugged and threw his arm around your shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you without anyone snooping and since the other three didn’t want to come, it seemed like a good chance to talk.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and your hands grew clammy. You had nothing to be scared of but you couldn’t help how your fight or flight instinct kicked in and right about now, you were ready to run away as fast as you could. “About what?”

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest at your question. “I just wanted to ask if you thought you were being slick.” What? You stopped walking and looked over at him. What on earth was he talking about? You must have looked as confused as you felt because he continued. “I mean you really don’t think we can’t tell about your little crush right? Luke might be dense but not everyone else is.”

A groan escaped your lips and you rolled your eyes, continuing your walk as your heart rate returned to normal. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t have a crush on Luke.”

“Of course you do Y/N. You always sit next to him, you’re constantly touching him, and god the dopey look you get when you look at him. You can’t tell me you never felt anything more than friendship.”

Ashton looked ready to continue but a group of young girls walked over and asked for photos. You’ve never been more thankful for fans than you were in that moment. Luke was just your friend and that was it. There was no other emotion and Ashton needed to let it go. Of course there was that time he was dared to kiss you.

You were both 16 and hormones mostly controlled your brain. In only a few short weeks, your boys would be going off to tour with One Direction. You were flooded with pride when Luke told you about the tour and you both promised to spend as much time together as you could before he left. You and the four boys crammed yourselves into Luke’s bedroom, stuffing your faces with snacks and giggling at the horrible dares you all came up with. At some point, Michael dared Calum to slow dance with Luke’s brother Jack and while he did it, the dare was lame.

“Luke, your turn. Truth or dare.” Calum asked, leaning against the bed as he tried to throw some popcorn into his mouth.

“I’ll go with dare.” Luke chuckled and leaned over, elbowing you in the side. “Cal has the worst dares so it can’t be that bad.”

Calum smirked and took a quick glance at Ashton before speaking. “Well then, I dare you to kiss Y/N.” Silence filled the room as you and Luke looked at each other. You could feel your body start to heat up and you told yourself it was just because you were embarrassed, not because you liked Luke. Luke looked as red as you felt and you wondered if he was just scared or if there was something else. But you quickly shot that thought down; Luke was your best friend so certainly he didn’t have any feelings for you. Which was great because you didn’t have any towards him.

“Pick a different dare Calum. I can’t kiss Y/N, they haven’t kissed anyone before.” It was true. You had never kissed anyone before and it didn’t bother you since it doesn’t matter when you kiss someone. But was that really the only reason Luke didn’t want to kiss you? Calum did just say that he had to kiss you, not shove his tongue down your throat. Luke looked between you and Calum, trying to figure out just what to do. Calum shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Luke begin to lose his mind. “Is this alright with you? If you don’t want this then we don’t have to.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands on the carpet. “It’s fine Bubs. At least my first kiss will be with someone that actually cares about me and not some jerk.” You said with a nervous laugh, hoping that Luke wouldn’t be upset that you were fine with it.

“Right, ok then.” Luke mumbled and scooted over to you, his shaky hands coming to rest on your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” You nodded and Luke took one last look at Calum over his shoulder before he leaned in. His lips quickly pressed against yours and you were surprised at how soft they were. You were also surprised at how nice and natural it felt to have his mouth moving against yours; you didn’t want it to end. He was warm and the way his lips fit yours almost perfectly was new and wonderful. You weren’t exactly sure what a kiss was supposed to feel like but you felt light and like you were floating on a cloud. Everything around you faded away and in that moment, it was just you and Luke, lip locked. Quickly and suddenly, Luke pulled away and sat back in his spot, rubbing his lips with his fingers. His face was flushed an even darker shade of red and the room suddenly felt like it was 50 degrees hotter. The other three boys giggled and Ashton winked at you.

“So how was your first kiss?” Michael snorted and looked at Luke who was looking at anything but you. How were you supposed to answer that? You certainly weren’t going to tell anyone how nice it felt but you couldn't say it was bad and hurt Luke.

“It was a kiss? How was it supposed to feel?” You decided it was a good enough answer.

“No fireworks? No butterflies or tingling sensations?” Ashton asked, leaning forward. Maybe that was a good way to describe your feelings but before you could come up with a lie, Luke jumped to his feet and ran out the door, mumbling about getting water. You glared and shoved Ashton as you ran after Luke, catching up to him in the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” You whispered, feeling like anything louder would break open a dam of emotions you weren’t ready to tackle. Luke sighed and leaned against the counter, gesturing for you to do the same.

“I should be asking you that. I just took your first kiss because of a dumb game.” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “Are you ok?”

“Of course.” It was a lie. You didn’t feel fine at all. You were confused and worried about just how nice that kiss was. “Luke if I wasn’t alright with it then I would have said something.” He nodded but remained quiet. For a few moments, neither of you talked or moved; you just watched the cars out the window as they drove by. “So, are you alright?”

Luke nodded and turned, looking at you for the first time in ten minutes. “I am, I just don’t want this to mess anything up or ruin our friendship. I mean I just kissed you, it was a little weird.” He laughed.

Right. He didn’t feel anything for you and so of course this was weird for him. Not that it wasn’t weird for you too because you didn’t like him. You rolled your eyes, shoving your confusion down for the time being and elbowed Luke. “Nothing is going to change our friendship, not even a weird kiss.”

Luke smiled and bumped his shoulder against yours. Despite telling yourself that you felt nothing towards your best friend, you couldn’t stop the queasy feeling in your stomach as Luke looked at you. You must have eaten something weird because there was no way you were feeling butterflies. “Let’s get back to the guys. Maybe we can make Calum kiss Michael as payback.”

You blinked away the memory, feeling Ashton’s eyes on you. The fans must have left when you were zoned out since you didn’t see anyone around. “So, you’re sure you don’t like Luke?”

“Yes Ashton. I’m sure so can you drop it?”

“I’ll drop it when you realize you’re in denial.” He said with a shrug while you both continued on your walk.

“It isn’t denial. You’re just imagining things.”

...

A week later, Luke texted you and the other boys about a party he was going to throw at his house. He didn’t tell you exactly why he wanted to throw a party but he did mention he had an announcement and an important question for you. Your first thought was that he was going to ask you out but you convinced yourself that you were just confused. Ashton refused to back off and he constantly told you that you were in denial. At this point, you almost believed him.

The night of the party, you got dressed and waited for Ashton to pick you up. He was out picking up some drinks so he told you he would pick you up and drive you home. Well, he didn’t exactly say he would drive you home. He was positive that a certain blonde boy would be inviting you to stay the night with him tonight. Ashton must be confused because Luke wasn’t going to ask you out. He’s still so hurt from his last relationship that ended only a few months ago.

The sound of your phone ringing had woken you up late one night. Normally you would have ignored the call but when you saw Luke’s name light up on the screen, you answered. “Luke? What is it? It’s three in the morning.” He didn’t answer but on the other end, you could hear his sniffles and what sounded like a choked sob. “Luke? Bubs what is it? Talk to me.”

“She cheated on me.” He sounded so small and broken; fury rushed through your veins. You never liked his girlfriend but he was happy with her. Now that all has changed. You threw your blankets off your bed and tugged on a jacket and some slippers.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.” His soft reply was almost too hard to hear before he hung up the phone. All you wanted to do was find this girl and beat her into the ground but Luke needed you. He was always a sensitive boy and this was going to crush him. He cried watching Finding Nemo as a 23 year old for god’s sake; how was he going to survive this? You quickly ran out the door and made your way to Luke’s house as quickly as you could. When you pulled up, you fumbled with your keys, searching for the one he had given you. Finally you found it and unlocked the door, coming in to see Luke on the couch, surrounded by broken furniture and staring blankly at the wall. Wordlessly, you stepped over the mess and sat next to him, pulling his head to rest on your chest. As soon as he made contact, the tears poured out and his body quaked as the sobs tore out of his throat. Your hands found his hair, combing through the curls in a hope to comfort him. There was nothing you could say to make this better, you both knew that. All you could do was hold him until he was ready to talk.

Almost an hour later, the tears stopped flowing and Luke grew quiet once more. “Want some water?” You asked, drying his face with the sleeves of your jacket. He nodded but when you went to stand, he clung onto you, making you stumble and fall back onto the couch. “I have to stand to get you water Bubs. You can come with.” Luke nodded once more and let you go just long enough for you both to stand before his hand gripped yours, keeping you close. It was hard to avoid stepping on broken glass with the giant man holding onto you but you both managed to get into the kitchen. Once you filled a cup with water, he took it from your grasp, sipping at it as he looked at the mess around you both. The kitchen wasn’t much better as you could see crushed mugs and even a blender on the floor. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to.” Your free hand came back to his hair, brushing it out of his face. You almost expected him to refuse but slowly, he started talking.

“I came home from a party, she didn’t want to go, said she felt sick.” He swallowed thickly and you began to rub his back, encouraging him to continue but not pushing him. “Some asshole was all over her on the couch. Half naked. His hands were,” he took a shaky breath before continuing on a new topic. “She told me it was an accident but how could it have been? He was in my house.” At this, tears fell once more but he continued to talk. “I threw a vase at them. He left and she started yelling and throwing things at me. Said it was my fault she cheated. That she wouldn’t have to if I was around more. We threw more things and then she packed up her shit and she’s gone.”

“Oh god Luke. I’m so sorry.” You took your hand out of his grasp and rested your hands on his cheeks. “What can I do?” He was going to be hurt for a while and nothing could change that. But if there was something, anything, that would make him hurt just a little less, you would do it.

“Can you stay the night? I don’t want to be alone.” He sounded like a child, coming to his parent’s room, asking to sleep with them. You leaned in and kissed his forehead before nodding.

“Of course Bubs. Anything you need, I’ll do it.”

Three sharp knocks on your door broke you out of your trance and you scrambled over to the door, unsure of how long the person had been there. When the door opened, you smiled at Ashton. “Ready to be fashionably late to the party?” He chuckled as he took you to his car. The first half of the drive was pretty quiet, filled with the sounds of the radio. “So,” Ashton began, smiling widely, “how’s the water in denial?”

“What?” You could only assume he was still on his bullshit about you liking Luke but you could never tell with Ashton.

“Denial. You know since you still refuse to believe Luke likes you. He told me he had an important question to ask you tonight so you’d better admit your feelings to yourself fast before he asks you out. He’s in love with you Y/N.”

“You don’t even know if that’s the question Ash.”

“No, I suppose not.” Despite his words, the smile never left his face. Maybe he knew something you didn’t. Was it possible that Luke wanted to ask you out tonight? Maybe Luke had some secret romantic feelings for you that Ashton knew about. Maybe you had some romantic feelings for him. Ashton stopped the car outside of Luke’s house and smirked at you. “Just be ready for anything tonight.”

It was actually a pretty small party which surprised you. It looked like Luke had only invited friends and a few other people in the music industry, which was fine. You actually liked the smaller parties since it felt more normal and not like a rager thrown by a rockstar. Ashton grabbed your arm and dragged you into the house, looking for Luke. He wasn’t too hard to find since he was taller than at least 90% of the people here. He was standing in the living room with Michael and Calum by his side. “You’re here!” Luke cheered, and pulled you in for a hug. “I’m so excited for tonight. I can’t wait to talk to you.”

Butterflies, yes butterflies, jumped around your stomach as you listened to him talk. Shit. Maybe you really did like him. Was it possible that all this time you had just been in denial like Ashton thought? You always found Luke attractive but you never dared to think of him in a more than friendly way. His white shirt only brought out the blue of his eyes that much more and dear lord did his hair look perfect. “Lukey!” A squeal broke you out of your thoughts and from the other side of the room, a girl ran over. You had never seen her before and while you didn’t know all of Luke's friends, you thought you knew most of them. The girl jumped and Luke caught her in his arms before he leaned in and kissed her. Yeah, he was definitely kissing her. Your heart completely shut down as you watched his lips move against hers. He slowly set her back on her feet and with a sheepish smile, he looked back at you and the boys.

“This is what I wanted to tell you guys. This is my girlfriend, Nicole.” All at once, you could feel your heart shatter into a million pieces and your gut dropped down to your feet. That’s not possible. How does Luke have a girlfriend? You watched as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side as she kissed his cheek. That should be you. You should be the one jumping into his arms and kissing him. He should be holding you like that, not her. Who did she think she was? Was she just dating Luke for the fame and money? Was she using him? You felt a hand on your arm and looked over to see Ashton, who looked like he had seen a ghost. He was wrong. Luke didn’t love you at all. He loved Nicole.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” Ashton whispered, trying to get you to look away from the couple.

“Denial.” You whispered, unsure if the words actually even left your mouth.

“What?”

“Denial Ash. It was denial.” Without another word, you turned and ran out of the house. What the fuck?

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be removed)

@lustingfor5sos @mycollectionofnuts @ohhmuke @softboycal @norawashere @who-do-you-love-5sos @aftermidnightclifford @katiaw2 @littlesinnersins @bbyboyycal @rosecoloredash

#luke hemmings #luke 5sos #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings x reader #5sos #5 seconds of summer

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aquaquadrant · 7 years ago

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Exiled AU - Part Four

hey yall! wrote another part for @ghosta-r‘s exiled!varian au. you’ll find my most recent one here with links to the rest of the series. if you’re a new reader make sure to go to the first one i wrote! i’ll probably write one more after this, and then we’ll be caught up to the time the first one takes place. after that, it’ll just depend on if i get inspired to continue the series or not. please reblog/leave a comment if you enjoy!

(heads up, this chapter has a warning for some darker themes, more in line with stuff from the second oneshot.) - Aqua

Over the next two weeks, Varian fell into a routine of sorts.

He’d wake up early in the morning and help Jonathan set up the shop for the day. Most of his time was spent sweeping the relentless sawdust from the floor while Jonathan worked and met with customers. He didn’t mind it. The repetitive task lulled him into a sort of trance, and he didn’t have to think or feel anything. It was nice in the way that small talk was nice; so completely inconsequential that there was no risk involved.

Soon enough, though, Jonathan started involving him in other aspects. Cleaning, maintaining, and sharpening the work tools, gathering and preparing the wood, and running to the forge to pick up orders of nails, locks, and hinges.

Varian had been intending to keep a low profile, but there was something about being in a workshop again that made him… forget. Jonathan was working with a cabinet door that kept sticking one day, and the idea popped into Varian’s head without warning.

“A spring hinge might fix that.”

The second the words left Varian’s mouth he’d regretted it, the tips of his ears burning. It was virtually the first time he’d said anything without being spoken to first, certainly the first suggestion he’d made.

Jonathan had given him a considering look. “Oh? Good idea, I’ll try it out.”

After that, Jonathan started employing Varian in a more hands-on setting. Having him actually work on projects with him, asking his opinion on certain things. He seemed to, bit by bit, piece together that Varian had expertise in engineering.

Varian cursed himself for doing something to be noticed, and all the while he recognized the horrible irony of it; for his whole his life, he’d just wanted to be noticed for his achievements. But only now that being noticed was dangerous was he getting the attention he’d so badly wanted, once upon a time.

At one point, Varian considered feigning ignorance. Pretending not to know anything about engineering. But the thought made him uneasy; he didn’t want to fail the tasks Jonathan set him for fear of angering the man and being kicked out. The one saving grace was that Jonathan never asked Varian where he’d learned such things, or anything about where he’d come from. He’d simply examine Varian’s work with an approving nod and a clap on the back that Varian was slowly learning not to flinch from and a “good job, son” and then it was on to the next thing.

(And Varian would try to ignore how much it affected him.)

What surprised him the most, however, was that Jonathan insisted on paying him. Since he was getting food and board, it wasn’t a complete working wage, but it was more than he’d expected. He’d tried to politely decline, but Jonathan wasn’t hearing it. So Varian kept the coins in his satchel, slightly overwhelmed at the entire prospect.

Whenever things were slow at the shop, Jonathan would send Varian back to the house to help out there. His tasks ranged from dishes to laundry to cleaning up around the place. Once again, nothing that he minded. Alice would keep Cate entertained, the girl not yet old enough to attend the town’s only school, and Varian would check in after completing a chore to be handed the next one.

He made quick work of it all, and in one or two lulls in the day, he found himself wanting for something to keep busy with. It quickly built into him taking on small projects of his own, fixing a squeaky door hinge here or a loose floorboard there.

Alice noticed. She also commented on it the next time she saw Varian, with a bright smile and a generous thank you. Varian cursed himself again for being noticed. He was just here to do a job and make a living, he wasn’t supposed to… endear himself to anyone. Especially since getting close would just increase his chances of being exposed for the criminal he was.

(But at the same time… the praise was nice.)

The family member Varian least interacted with was Cate. The young girl hadn’t… warmed up to his presence, per say, but she wasn’t shy around him. She seemed to quickly accept him as a fixture in the house, but she didn’t have much need to talk with him.

That suited Varian just fine. He was uncertain around young children, and the last thing he wanted to do was make a mistake with the daughter of his hosts. If he upset her, or gave them reason to think him being around her was a bad idea, he’d be kicked out faster than hydrogen could bond to oxygen.

Varian would have been perfectly happy for his exchanges with Cate to remain few and far between. But, like with so many other things in Varian’s life, fate had different plans.

It was about a week after his arrival. Jonathan had sent Varian back to house for lunch. Cate was occupied with coloring, but had opted to spread out the paper all over the floor instead of settling for the table. Alice had been making friendly conversation, asking about how things were going in the shop, when she suddenly sighed.

“I need to grab something upstairs,” she told Varian. “Could you watch Cate for a moment?”

Varian’s heart jolted. Alone? “Uh-”

“Thanks, sweetheart!” Without waiting for his reaction, Alice vanished up the stairs.

The room was suddenly far too quiet. Varian glanced down at Cate, his pulse quickening. What was he supposed to do with a toddler? What did they even like to do for fun? When Varian was little he’d already taken an interest in alchemy, and in hindsight, that probably wasn’t the safest thing for-

“Hey! Come down here!”

Cate’s voice made Varian jump, the toddler looking up at him impatiently. At a loss for anything else to do, he slid out of his chair and knelt down to Cate’s level.

“… yes?” he asked uncertainly.

Cate pointed. “Why’s your hair blue?”

“Oh.” Absently, Varian reached a hand up to tug at the blue streak in his bangs. “I was born with it.”

“Cool!” Cate looked mildly impressed. “Can I be born with it, too?”

Varian blinked. “Uh, n- no, that’s… not really how it works.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

Cate’s bottom lip stuck out in a pout, and she folded her arms. “No fair!”

Uh oh. “But- but orange is way cooler, anyways,” Varian said quickly, in anticipation of a tantrum.

Cate squinted at him, suspicious. “Really?”

Varian nodded seriously. “Oh yeah, it’s like the color of the sun,” he said, as if that was something to be impressed by. “A- and pumpkins, and carrots, and wildflowers… very cool.”

“Huh.” Cate seemed to consider it. “That is a good color,” she decided.

Varian breathed a sigh of relief, a little smile tugging at his mouth. “Sure is.” With that little crisis averted, he turned his attention to the papers Cate had spread out before her. “What are you drawing?”

Cate pointed at a scribble of yellow. “This is our house.”

Varian’s heart gave a little skip at that. Our house. He quickly pushed the thought away, though. He wasn’t here to get attached to anyone, he was here so he didn’t starve to death. Besides, what kind of family would want him to be a part of it, anyways?

Varian cleared his throat. “It’s very nice,” he told her.

Cate preened slightly at the compliment. “Thanks.” She grabbed up one of the crayons and offered it to him. “Here.”

Varian took the crayon hesitantly, scanning the papers. “Uh, what do you want me to draw?” he asked.

Cate shook her head, her short pigtails swishing back and forth. “No, that’s for you. To have.”

“Oh,” Varian said, taken aback. “Um, a- are you sure?”

Cate nodded, leaning in conspiratorially and whispering behind her hand. “It’s the best color.”

It was then that Varian noticed the crayon was orange. A real smile spread across his face. “Thank you,” he said softly, oddly touched at the gesture.

“Don’t lose it!” Cate warned him.

“I won’t,” Varian assured her, tucking the crayon into his coat pocket. “There, see?”

“Good.” Cate flashed him a gap-toothed grin and handed him another crayon. “Let’s draw Daddy’s workshop now! But I can’t draw people, so you draw Daddy.”

Varian chuckled. “Alright.”

Alice returned a few minutes later to find them collaborating on a mural of the entire town. She lingered at the top of the stairs, watching them with a fond smile on her face.

(And Varian pretended not to notice.)

Varian stood before the court, shackles heavy on his wrists.

The throne room glistened, nearly blinding him. He was surrounded by faceless figures, their distorted whispers turning to white noise in his ears. The whole room had a golden sheen to it, like he was looking through colored glass. It was familiar, but he couldn’t remember where he’d seen it before.

‘Your most serious crime is enough to warrant execution.’

Varian had heard the words before. But this time, it was Dad saying them, Dad looking down at him with a face of stone. It was an oddly peaceful expression on him. The words fit in his mouth, somehow, though Varian was certain they’d come from someone else. He couldn’t remember who.

Wordlessly, Varian nodded.

Suddenly, they were outside. There was dirt beneath Varian’s boots, a breeze tugging at his hair. His shackles were gone, his hands bare of their gloves. Before him stood a wooden structure, a long rope dangling from its solitary arm. It swayed slightly in the wind. Gentle. Harmless.

‘A life for a life,’ Dad said emotionlessly. No hatred, no disdain, no pity. Just quiet judgement.

‘It should’ve been me,’ Varian agreed, just as calmly. He stepped onto the wooden platform, slipping the rope around his neck.

Dad pulled the lever, and the ground fell out from beneath Varian’s feet-

Varian woke up screaming.

He bolted upright in bed, his heart pounding and his scream ringing in his ears. His gloved hands flew to his throat, half expecting to feel coarse rope scratching his skin, choking him- no, Dad, please no, I’m sorry-

He curled in on himself, tucking his knees to his chest as a pained cry welled up in his chest. Tears ran down his face, blurring his vision, and they didn’t stop even as he told himself it was just a dream, it wasn’t real, he was alive. None of that mattered because it was right- he should’ve been the one to die, not Dad. It was his fault, his mistake, and it wasn’t fair-

The door opened, and Jonathan rushed into the room, half-dressed and wide-eyed.

“Varian? What happened?”

Alarm shot through Varian. He choked back a sob. “N- nothing, sir,” he managed, wiping at his tears. “I- I’m sor- sorry.”

Jonathan’s brow furrowed. “Hey, hey now, it’s alright,” he said softly, sitting down on the bed beside Varian. “It’s alright, what happened?”

“Bad d- dream,” Varian got out, struggling to stop his crying. “It’s- it’s nothing, I-”

Jonathan pulled him into a hug, and Varian broke.

He clung to Jonathan as he cried, burying his face in the man’s shoulder. He could barely catch his breath from the intensity of it, hot tears streaking down his face. Jonathan’s arms around him were both strange and familiar, and Varian’s head was dizzy at the implications.

It was such a small thing, but… when was the last time someone had embraced him like that?

He couldn’t remember.

Eventually, Varian’s sobs died down. His head was throbbing, his eyes burning and his throat hoarse, but there was almost a sense of relief that came with it, in each small tremor that ran through his body. He’d kept so much inside, made himself so numb since his exile that he hadn’t realized how heavy it all was to carry.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?” Jonathan ventured finally.

It took Varian a while to gather himself enough to speak. “I… lost my dad a short while ago.” And it was my fault, he wanted to add, but that would lead to questions. Questions Varian didn’t want to answer.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan said, his eyes sad. “We’d thought as much, that you were on your own, but…”

Varian shook his head. “I’m sorry for crying.” He shouldn’t be feeling sorry for himself. He’d been given a second chance. “I d- didn’t mean to wake you…”

“Hey, none of that, now,” Jonathan said gently. “It’s alright.”

A sudden thought occurred to Varian. “Did I w- wake Cate up?” he asked.

“Yes, but she’s fine,” Jonathan assured him. “Just a little spooked. Alice is with her.”

Varian sniffled. He was calmer now, but he found he had no desire to pull away from Jonathan, instead leaning further against the man. The adrenaline of his nightmare had quickly faded, leaving him exhausted.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Jonathan smiled at him. “You’re welcome, son,” he said.

(And maybe just this once, Varian would admit he didn’t mind it.)

Varian could get used to quiet evenings, he decided.

On the last day of the week, Jonathan would close up shop and give Varian the day off. The concept had confused him. To spend an entire day doing nothing? It hadn’t made sense- at least, not at first. But then Varian had watched the small family spending time together, and he understood.

Maybe he wouldn’t have, a few months ago. But now, he wished he’d spent more time with Dad.

At the moment, Alice was upstairs, taking a much-needed nap after a bout of sickness. Varian sat cross-legged on the floor beside Cate, listening to the toddler introduce her small collection of dolls. Jonathan sat at the table whittling detail into what was going to be a chair leg, because even though he claimed today was his day off he tended to bring work home with him.

The peaceful mood was disrupted by an abrupt knock on the door.

Jonathan rose from his chair, grumbling. “That better not be Alf asking after his rocking chair again. Can’t a man enjoy his day off?”

Whether it was Alf, Varian couldn’t say, but Jonathan seemed to recognize whoever was at the door, because he stepped outside, closing it behind him.

Varian glanced out the window, brows creasing. It was hard to see from this angle, but it looked like there were several men out there, talking to Jonathan. He could just barely hear the deep hum of their voices, but not enough to make anything out. At one point, someone gestured at the window.

Varian got a bad feeling in his stomach.

A small hand tugged at his sleeve. “What’s wrong?” Cate chirped. “Why’re you sad for?”

Varian looked away from the window and gave the toddler a smile. “It’s- it’s probably nothing, Catie,” he said reassuringly.

Cate tilted her head. “Okay. Do you wanna be the mama?” she asked simply, holding out a cloth doll.

“Sure.” Varian took the offered doll.

That was one thing he had found he liked about toddlers. Nothing was ever complicated. Varian didn’t have to second guess everything he said to Cate, didn’t have to try and puzzle out her intentions. The simplicity of it was refreshing; he was tired of mind games. After the accident with the amber, his life had become one big, chaotic chessboard, the schemes and the manipulation all culminating in a devastating checkmate he never could have anticipated.

Back then, Varian had told the queen that part of his actions were for revenge, that he’d still want his revenge after he freed his dad. Things had turned out so differently that he had no clue if that would’ve been the case. But he did know he wanted none of that now. It just wasn’t worth it.

“Hey, the baby’s hungry!” Cate said loudly, waving her smaller doll in Varian’s face.

“Oh, sorry.” Varian shook himself from his thoughts, lifting one of the doll’s little arms in mock-play. “Would baby like some porridge?”

“No!” Cate shrieked. “Baby wants cake!”

“Well, she can’t have any until she eats her porridge,” Varian said, his lip quirking up despite himself. “So you’re gonna have to-”

The front door opened, and Jonathan stepped back inside. He didn’t stop, walking with a purpose towards where Varian and Cate were sitting, his expression unreadable.

Varian put the doll down and scrambled to his feet, his stomach flipping anxiously. “Is- is something wrong, sir?”

Jonathan’s eyes betrayed nothing, studying Varian carefully. “Apparently, the kingdom of Corona just exiled a dangerous criminal. One they call the Alchemist. They say he’s done… horrible things. Unimaginable things. And they say he’s you.” He tilted his head. “Is it true?”

Varian’s breathing hitched. He knew. Jonathan knew. Ice cold panic crawled up into Varian’s chest, and he stood motionless as his mind tore at itself in an attempt to think of a way out. How was he supposed to explain himself?

Varian’s reaction must’ve been all the answer Jonathan needed, because his expression darkened. He took a step forward, deliberately putting himself between Varian and Cate as he pushed her behind him.

Varian stumbled backward, his back hitting the wall. “Please, I never meant to hurt anyone-”

“Get out,” Jonathan snapped.

Varian nearly bolted for the door but managed to control himself, just enough to remember to gather his things first. He moved quickly, only grabbing the things he’d arrived with. Above the roaring in his ears, he could hear Cate asking, “where’s Varian going, Daddy? Can I go too?” and goddamn it, it shouldn’t have hurt that much-

Varian hesitated at the door, his hand gripping the handle, and glanced over his shoulder. “Th- thank you for your hospitality.”

With that, he slipped outside.

Closing the door behind him, Varian turned away, and his heart gave a jolt. There was a small crowd of people standing in front the house. Some he recognized; the familiarity and kindness was gone, replaced by distrust, anger, loathing. Some he didn’t, but the hatred was just the same. Some were armed, with cooking pans and farmer’s tools and even a sword or two. Some weren’t, but their clenched fists spoke of just as much intention.

Swallowing hard, Varian lowered his gaze and stepped into the crowd. They parted for him, the air thick with tension. His footsteps echoed almost deafeningly in the dead silence, and he had to consciously turn his feet away from the center of town; he’d gotten so used to walking to the shop with Jonathan-

Focus. Don’t think about it. Varian kept his head down, ears pricked and aware for any movement towards him, almost shaking from how tense he was. He watched from the corners of his eyes, not daring to meet anyone’s gaze for fear of a challenge, but taking careful notice of his surroundings.

Everyone he passed on the streets stopped what they were doing to stare, some whispering to each other and some shying back in fear. Others glared, and some even started to follow, joining the initial crowd that was trailing behind him.

The rational part of Varian’s brain forced himself to walk calmly, because he knew that if he ran, the irrational parts of their brains would want to give chase. It didn’t stop him from clutching his staff tightly, as if it could somehow protect him should the mob decide to rush him.

Eventually, someone in the crowd grew bold. “Yeah, keep going, you freak!” they jeered.

More joined in. “Corona doesn’t want you, and we don’t want you here either!”

“Don’t come back!”

“Criminal scum!”

“Freak!”

Varian bit down on his lip until it bled, refusing to let his tears fall. He forced himself to keep moving, not letting his steps falter, keeping his back straight. He kept moving until he crossed the threshold of the town and the road led into forest once again and the last of the straggling followers finally relented and turned back, apparently satisfied he was leaving for good.

Only then did he let himself cry, pushing forward on stumbling feet once more into the dark unknown.

(And he tried to forget about the orange crayon in his coat pocket.)

#tangled the series #tts #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rta #exiled!varian au #my writing

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thepeanutbutterwizard · 8 years ago

Text

Building Blocks of a Family: Wendy

More Stanmily au stuff. Title is self explanatory.

Word count: 3,411

Enjoy!

“-and don’t forget to tell your friends about us here at the Mystery Shack!” Stan’s voice boomed in the gift shop as he waved at the last crowd of the day from the front door. “And remember, we put the Fun in-”

“No wefuns!” The two toddlers he was carrying chorused. Mabel and Mason had been getting antsy during the last tour. They started whining and shaking the baby gate as Stan lead the tour by, so he had scooped them up and brought them along. He gave the newest Mystery Shack resident, little Wendy, a glance to see if she had wanted out too, but she just glared at him over the blocks she was playing with, so Stan left her behind the baby gate and the ‘Worlds Cutest Kids!’ attraction sign.

“Mr. Pines!” A squeaky voice called out behind him. Stan turned to see Soos, his new handy man, walking over in his too-large Mystery Shack t-shirt. When Stan had ‘hired’ Soos about three days ago, he hadn’t really expected to see the kid again. But when he showed up bright and early one morning, well, Stan wasn’t one to turn down free labor. “What do you want me to do?”

“Lock up while I get food for the munchkins, would ya? Then bring Wendy into the dining room and sweep up the museum and gift shop.”

“Yes sir Mr. Pine’s sir!” Soos said enthusiastically. Mason had his hand in his mouth and was sucking on his fingers, and Mable started waving and babbling at Soos when he darted around Stan and the kids to lock the door. He stopped for a moment to wave back, delighting Mabel, then turned his attention back to locking up.

In the kitchen, Stan settled into a familiar routine. Buckle the kids into their seats, get the applesauce out, warm up the peas, double check Mason’s seat buckle (he was a little escape artist, and he always busted his sister out too), warm the cooked carrots, fill the Sippy cups, juice for Mason and chocolate milk for Mabel, triple check Mason’s seat buckle, and make sure the baby spoons were clean before sitting down to start the delicate and complicated dance that was feeding two two-year-olds at once.

“Um, Mr. Pines?” Soos said from the doorway into the kitchen. Stan looked back to see him nervously fiddling with his fingers.

“What’s up gumdrop? Break something? And where’s Wendy?” Stan said, turning back to the toddlers.

“Well, y’see, I went to go get her dood, but when I checked the play-traction, well, I couldn’t find her.” Soos’s voice quivered a little at the end, and when Stan looked back at him again, the boy looked like he was about to cry.

Stan gave a small sigh, then stood “Hey, simmer down now. ‘S not yer fault.” Stan tried to calm the boy down. He really didn’t want to have to deal with a crying twelve year old employee on top of a missing five year old and a pair of hungry two year olds. “Wendy’s a slippery little kid, gets away from me all the time. Yer not in trouble or anything. Ah,” Stan, struck by an idea, stood up from the table “here, you feed the twins, I’ll go find Wendy.”

Soos looked up at Stan with an awestruck expression for a moment. It was a little unnerving to Stan, but it didnâ€™t last long. â€œYou got it Mr. Pines!â€ Soos said, bounding over to the table.

“Okay, just a few quick things.” Stan says, handing the spoons to Soos, “Mason won’t eat the carrots, so he has to eat more peas. Mabel likes to mix the carrots and the applesauce, disgusting, I know, but she likes it. She’ll also paint her face with her food and throw it everywhere, so watch that. Masons won’t give ya much trouble. And whatever ya do, do not let either one of them hold the spoons, or they’ll try ta feed you. Got it, gumdrop?”

“Yeah dood. I got this.” Soos said, then turned to the twins “Aww, lookit you two little doods!” He cooed. Mabel clapped her hands and babbled a string of nonsense words, smiling widely at Soos. Mason finally stopped sucking on his fingers, and gave a thoughtful scowl while pointing at Soos with a pudgy finger.

“Soo.” Mason said. Then, he broke into a large grin, pleased with himself. “Soo, soo, soo!” He started chanting, and soon Mabel started doing it too.

“Yeah dawgs, that’s me!” Soos cheered, smiling as widely as the twins.

Yeah, they’ll be fine. Stan thought before leaving the kitchen. Soos was a great kid really. Stan was glad he had showed up at the Shack. Now, if I was a mischievous red head preschooler, where would I be?

He checked the museum first, looking behind all of the attractions, and paying special attention to the places he’s found her hiding before. It had been a month since the...Incident that had lead to Wendy living at the Shack, and only two weeks since Stan had officially adopted her. Stan wasn’t quite sure that she understood fully what the words ‘your parents have died’ meant, but it had sunk in quickly that they weren’t coming back any time soon. The lively girl had become withdrawn and quiet, barely speaking to anyone. She would open up to the twins more than anyone else, but that still wasn’t saying much. Wendy had taken to disappearing when Stan wasn’t looking, messing with an attraction, then hiding somewhere, a cycle that was starting to really grate on Stan’s nerves. If he had to re-stitch that dumb Fiji mermaid one more time...

A tremendous CRASH sounded in the gift shop, making Stan jump. Soos cries out from the kitchen “I didn’t do it!” as the twins squeal loudly. Stan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. He could feel his grey hairs multiplying as he stalked to the gift shop.

Wendy was surrounded by shattered snow globes, a shelf pulled off the wall behind her, and water soaking into her socks. And to top it all off, Wendy was standing with her feet planted and her arms crossed, a defiant glare on her face. This was no accident.

“All right young lady, that is it!” Stan growled. He marched over, glass crunching under his shoes as he scooped Wendy up and away from the sharp shards. “I’m through with this, you’re gonna be the one who’s cleaning this up.”

Wendy glared at Stan as he set her down. As soon as she was standing on her own two feet again, she kicked Stan in the shin, hard. He bit back a curse and jumped on one foot, clutching his leg.

“No!” Wendy shrieked, “No, no, NO!” Her face reddened and she stomped her feet with each word, her socks squishing on the wood floor.

“No, what?” Stan hollered over her, putting his throbbing leg down. That’s gonna bruise. “No cleaning up? Cause too bad, I’m moving the glass and then you’re mopping up missy.”

”NO, I’m NOT! You can’t tell me what to do! YOU’RE NOT MY DAD!” Wendy screamed, her voice reaching pitches only dogs could hear. Stan stood, stunned by the outburst, and only watched as Wendy turned and ran, powering up the stairs as fast as she could, up to the attic and away from Stan.

Stan took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Great. Just great. What do I do now? Some old doubts from his first few weeks raising Dipper and Mabel reared their ugly heads. Who did Stan think he was anyway, trying to raise three kids by himself? He was the first person to point out how under qualified he was to even be around kids, let alone raise three that weren’t even his. At least with Dipper and Mabel he was related to them, albeit in a bit of a roundabout way. Wendy was just a neighbor kid, a little girl he babysat on occasion. She came to be his ward on accident.

What are you doing Stan? Go after the kid before she does something else dangerous! The rational part of Stan, the part that sounded like Ford, yelled at him in his head. Stan took a step in the direction Wendy had run, and then he remembered the mess of broken glass behind him and the three other children in the house that could walk through it. Stan grabbed some caution cones out of a closet to section off the area, then he quickly gathered up all the big pieces, throwing them in the trash.

Stan yelped, biting back a curse as one of the last pieces sliced into his palm. He threw the last few pieces into the garbage with more force than necessary. Stan looked at the cut as he darted into the bathroom to get the first aid kit. It was long, but shallow. Stan was able to quickly, if awkwardly, bandage it. He wadded the extra gauze in his pocket, planning on cleaning up the first aid kit later.

Now, to find Wendy. She was probably hiding in the attic bedroom, where all of her things were. Stan opened the door with trepidation, expecting to be attacked again. Nothing happened. He pushed the door wide open and flipped on the light. He moved to look under the bed, but stopped when something caught his eye. The window was open. Oh no.

Stan threw himself to the window, leaning out far and not really noticing the height. “Wendy?!” His voice cracked as he called out, peering down to the dark ground below. “Kid, where’d ya go?” Stan’s heart slowed a little when he didn’t see a small body on the ground below, the area illuminated by light coming from the Shack, but not by much. “Ah, whaddo I do? Where did she-no I gotta, I gotta go after her, but where did she-” Stan pulled himself back into the room and stumbled back into a wall. He was panicking. “Gah, I knew this would happen. Who am I kidding? Why did I think I could take care’a these kids without screwing it up?” Stan knew, distantly, that he should do something, anything but stay in that room freaking out, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what to do, so he sank to the ground, burying his head in his hands and bumping the hamper on his way down.

The hamper gave a yelp. Stan started, then turned towards it. He pulled the top layer of clothes off the apparently empty hamper, revealing a head of red hair. “Wendy!” Stan reached into the basket, ignoring the stinging in his hand, and plucked her out of the laundry, pulling her into his lap “Do you have any idea how much you just scared me, young lady?” He let out a sigh, more of a huff of air than anything, and leaned back, banging his head against the wall and knocking his fez off. The spike of adrenaline he had felt at seeing the open window faded, leaving him feeling more tired than the relatively quiet day should have left him.

“Are you...crying?” Wendy’s voice was quiet; the quietest Stan had ever heard her. When he looked down at her, he saw her looking up at him, her head cocked to the side, with a confused look on her face. With a start, Stan noticed the wetness prickling at the corners of his eyes. Just from shock or adrenaline or something.

“No, I’m not crying.” The response was immediate. “My eyes are just waterin’ from the light. Thought you had gone out the window or something, stuck my head out. It was dark out there.” Despite knowing that Wendy was fine, Stan still couldn’t help but give her a once-over. “Hey, what did you do to yer hand sweetie?” Stan caught the way she had one hand cupped around the other. Gently, he tugged on her fingers, bringing her hand towards him. A small cut was bleeding near the base of her thumb.

“It’s nothin’” Wendy muttered, trying to pull her hand away. “Just a little cut.”

Stan pulled the gauze out of his pocket, feeling grateful that he hadn’t put it away. “Well, little or not, you don’t want to get blood everywhere, do ya?” Stan said, his voice as soft and quiet as he can make it. He was too relieved that Wendy was alright to really be mad at her. Stan gently wrapped the tiny cut, being much more careful than he had been with his own injury.

“Whaddid you do to your hand?” Wendy asked as Stan finished bandaging her hand.

Stan pocketed the remaining gauze. “Cut myself on the glass downstairs. Ya really made a mess, ya know that kid?”

Wendy looked down at her hands. “Oh. Sorry.” Her small face twisted into an ashamed grimace.

Stan felt a twist of guilt. He hadn’t tried to upset her. Stan tried to backtrack. “Heh, it’s not yer fault. I coulda’ been more careful.” More words hung on the tip of Stan’s tongue, but he bit them back. He really didn’t want to upset Wendy more than he already had.

The two of them sat on the floor in silence. Stan decided that the fact that Wendy hadn’t jumped out of his lap and ran yet as a sign that he could try and say more. “Hey, Wendy,” Stan started. He rubbed the back of his neck “I know that this has all been really hard for you. Havin’ ta adjust ta all of this-” he waved an arm, gesturing at the Shack around them “and ta me and the twins. And, I know that ya must miss yer parents somethin’ awful.” Wendy curled up into a ball in Stan’s lap, hugging her knees and hiding her face. But she hadn’t left yet, so Stan kept pushing his luck. “I, um, I have someone that I miss a whole lot too.” Wendy looked up at Stan with watery green eyes, and Stan’s throat tightened ‘Why did I say that?’ “But, y’see, the thing is, well-” Stan backtracked frantically, hoping Wendy didn’t try to ask him any questions. “I’m not your Dad. I know that. And I’m sorry if I made ya feel like I was trying ta replace him, or your Mom. Cause, ya don’t, ya don’t replace family, ya know?” Stan kept his eyes on the ceiling, looking anywhere but at Wendy. “So, yeah, I’m just tellin’ ya that I’m sorry, kid. For everything.”

Two small arms wrapped around Stan’s neck, and Wendy’s hot breath tickled Stan’s ear. Stan hesitated for a moment before hugging her back. Quietly but growing in volume, Wendy started to sob into Stan’s neck. He grimaced slightly at the slimy feel of her tears and more than likely snot rubbing into his skin and soaking his shirt and jacket collar, but Stan held the crying girl close to him.

Slowly, Wendy calmed down. Her tears stopped flowing, and her death grip on Stan’s neck slackened. It wasn’t until Stan heard her softly snoring in his ear that he realized that she had cried herself to sleep. Stan hauled himself to his feet as gently as he could. He slowly lowered her onto her bed. Wendy resisted a little, clinging to Stan like a burr in her sleep.

Stan softly peeled her off and tucked her in to her bed. He smiled softly as she grabbed a stuffed animal in her sleep. Stan silently slipped out of the room, turning the light off behind him. He turned, and almost jumped through the roof when he saw Soos standing less than two feet behind him.

“Sweet Moses kid! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Stan clutched a hand to his chest. He quietly ushered Soos toward the stairs and away from Wendy’s room. “What are ya doing up here? Where are the twins?”

“They were gettin’ tired after I fed em’ so I changed their diapers and put the little doods to bed.” Soos gave Stan a buck-toothed grin. “They went down pretty fast, so I cleaned the kitchen up, and swept the museum!”

“Huh, ya did all that, did ya?” Stan was mildly impressed.

“Yeah! I’ve got a lot of younger cousins, and I gotta help take care of em’ when family comes to visit.” Soos said, but then his smile suddenly faded “You’re not mad at me, are ya? Ya just told me to feed the twins, not put em’ to bed.”

“Mad? I aint mad kid, I just got free babysitting.” Stan smiled, patting Soos on the top of his head. “Hey, you didn’t go near that puddle in the gift shop, did ya?”

“No, I saw some-some broken glass in the water. Abuelita told me to stay away from broken glass.” A yawn punctuated the young boy’s sentence, prompting Stan to check his watch.

“Aw, shoot! It’s late, I gotta get you home.” Stan quickly bundled the boy into the backseat of his car and took off, driving erratically and speeding more than he normally did.

“Goodnight Mr. Pines!” Soos said as he got out of the car.

“Yeah, night Soos. Hey, I don’t care if it’s past yer bedtime, make sure you’re in ta work bright and early tomorrow!”

“Yes sir!”

Stan waited until Soos had gotten inside before he drove back home. It didn’t take him too long to clean up the rest of the snow globe mess, and after poking his head into his room and checking on the twins in their crib, he slipped downstairs to the basement.

“Foo, foo, foo!” Mable and Mason chanted together from their high chairs. Their noise was giving Stan a headache, so he cooked faster. Wendy was still asleep, and Stan wasn’t about to go wake her up after last night. He was making flapjacks for breakfast, Wendy’s favorite, and the little twins were excited for them too.

“All right ya little terrors, settle down.” Stan turned from the stove to look back at the twins, and started a little when he saw Wendy in the kitchen doorway. She was still wearing her clothes from the day before, and there were still slight traces of tear tracks left on her face. Stan’s fez was perched on her head, slipping down over her ears. She shuffled her feet a little, not really looking at Stan. “Well, it’s about time you got up.” Stan grumbled, turning back to the flapjacks to hide his small smile at seeing her up.

“Wenny!” Mabel happily giggled, before returning to chanting along with Mason for food.

Stan heard the sound of a chair being dragged along the floor, and turned to see Wendy climbing up next to him. She pushed his fez back as she climbed; it kept slipping over her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?” Stan asked, one eyebrow cocked. Wendy pulled the fez off of her head, and held it up to Stan. With a small chuckle, he ducked low enough for Wendy to place it crookedly on his head, the tassel tickling his left ear. “Thanks kid.”

“I’msorryaboutthesnowglobes.” The words tumbled out of Wendy’s mouth, so fast Stan almost couldn’t understand them.

“Well, no one got hurt. But that was a lot of merchandise ya broke missy.” Stan poked Wendy lightly in the arm with his spatula. “You’re gonna start helping me around the Shack to pay for all those.”

“Okay.” Wendy said. She sat on the counter next to the stove, kicking her legs back and forth and bumping her heels against the cupboard door underneath.

“You ah, want somethin?” Stan asked her.

“Mr. Pines? Can I ask you somethin’?” Wendy murmured

“Didn’t ya just?” Stan said, laughing at his own joke. Seeing the confused look on Wendy’s face, Stan said “Yeah kid, fire away.”

“Is it okay if I call you Uncle Stan?” She whispered.

Stan fumbled with his spatula. “W-what? You wanna call me your Uncle?”

Wendy nodded, looking away from Stan.

“Heh.” Stan couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face. “Yeah, sure, if you really wanna.” He tried to hide his joy under a layer of gruffness. “You uh, wanna help me with these last few flapjacks?”

Wendy looked up at him, a small smile on her face. “Yeah. Sounds fun Uncle Stan.”

#gravity falls #stanmily au #stan pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #wendy corduroy #soos ramirez

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mst3kproject · 8 years ago

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Short: A Case of Spring Fever

MST3K featured a number of movies, such as The Starfighters and last week's Squirm, that were simply not memorable. They also did a number of movies and shorts that were deeply memorable, but for all the wrongest possible reasons. Mr. B Natural was one of those, and A Case of Spring Fever is another. Both were intended to be whimsical and each, in its own way, ended up being fucking terrifying instead.

The point of A Case of Spring Fever is to explain how springs work and how essential they are to daily life – particularly to automobiles. Our hero, I guess, is Gilbert, a man whose wife wants him to fix the couch before he goes golfing. When he complains that he never wants to see another spring again, a cartoon imp called Coily the Spring Sprite appears and grants his wish. Gilbert quickly realizes that things like his watch and car won't work without springs, and begs Coily to restore them. He then becomes a sort of spring evangelist, and spends the entirety of his golfing trip prostelytizing to his increasingly annoyed friends about how useful springs are until they never want to see another spring again!

The film is meant to be light-hearted and educational, and possibly to sell us cars, but it lends itself immediately to dark and horrible interpretations. Mike and the Bots spend the short and the subsequent skit about Mikey the Mike Sprite wondering how the rules of this universe work. Does every man-made object have a little pixie waiting to snatch it away from us? Have such creatures existed from the dawn of time, anticipating that they will someday be discovered, or did Coily (I'm so sorry) spring into being with the invention of the first spring? Was it only Gilbert who was suddenly spring-less, or did everybody else, too, find their watches stopped and their mattresses bounce-less with no explanation? If it was everybody, was that everybody on Earth, or did it extend to aliens who could theoretically visit us and bring their springs with them? Would it be possible to make another spring after Coily took them away, or would any new spring vanish as soon as it was finished? What happened to the Law of Conservation of Mass as all spring-shaped matter just vanished from the universe?

People would think of questions like these no matter whether the short itself were successful in entertaining and educating us, but the fact that we dwell on them illustrates that it is in fact a failure. Did anybody spend The Lord of the Rings wondering whether Saruman used to be gray and had to be killed by a Balrog before coming back as Saruman the White? Well, actually, yeah, I'm sure somebody did (it may have been me), but those people's friends probably (definitely) told them to shut up and watch the damn movie. The film itself was more interesting and entertaining than such questions. In A Case of Spring Fever, the questions distract us because the short can't hold our attention.

(I do know how the Maiar work, by the way. Please don't feel like you have to explain it to me.)

But that doesn't tell us why A Case of Spring Fever is so memorably distressing. I've seen weirder stuff on TV than Coily the Spring Sprite and it didn't stick in my mind like this short does – and some of that was supposed to be messed-up. What is going on here?

The most obvious thing is Coily himself. You don't forget Coily. He appears as a little cartoon helix with curly lines for arms and legs and a head that looks like it belongs to a bad-tempered Christmas elf. When he speaks, it's in a squeaky, grating old man voice. Every time Gilbert realizes some springless device won't work, Coily appears and shrieks “no spriiiings!” in a mocking tone before vanishing again, until our hapless protagonist is forced to take back his wish or go insane.

Coily is neither well-animated nor appealing in appearance. His gestures are repetitive and he never really looks like he's part of the environment – perhaps he's not supposed to, since he does represent an outside, supernatural force, but it's more likely that the animation was just cheap and primitive. At least some effort was made to make sure the actor playing Gilbert looks in the right direction. I think Coily was meant to be cute, but his long nose, pointed ears, buck teeth, and spiteful expression are almost demonic, and his attitude definitely so. There's something downright nightmarish about the way he pops up to mock as Gilbert grows ever more frustrated. He is literally torturing his victim into compliance.

As Crow observes when he asks how this all fits into 'God's plan for us', Coily is also a very pagan little bugger. In ancient Greece and Rome, people believed that both natural and man-made objects had their own guardian gods or spirits. Iuturna, for example, was the Roman goddess of fountains, and Ianus the god of doors and gates (Wikipedia lists Fons as the god of springs, but they mean the water type). One of the ways early Christianity tried to discourage worship of these gods was by portraying them as demons. Coily, a spirit with a restricted area of responsibility, who must be appeased with devotion or else will lash out and punish people, is just such an entity.

Scholars in the Middle Ages wrote books about the complex hierarchy among the legions of hell. I wonder where Coily fits into those.

Even more disturbing is how the encounter with Coily changes Gilbert. We don't get to know Gilbert very well, but the brief glimpse we have of him is of somebody impatient and a bit lazy, eager for an excuse to avoid his chores and go play golf. When he takes back his wish for no more springs, the film cuts abruptly from Gilbert in the car to Gilbert under the sofa again, which could be interpreted to mean that the last few minutes were only a dream... but then we find Gilbert utterly transformed. Rather than relaxing and enjoying the golf game, he spends the entire afternoon telling his friends about springs, giving even more examples of their ubiquity and usefulness than we already got from Coily. He doesn't act like somebody who just woke from a nightmare. Instead, the nightmare seems to intensify as Gilbert loses his own personality and identity, leaving only an obsession with springs! It seems that Coily has brainwashed Gilbert, or perhaps even possesses his body. That would explain why he suddenly knows so much about how springs work and the many other areas of life they are important to. He has become a puppet under Coily's control, spreading the cult of springs for some dark purpose.

I'm kidding. I think.

Another source of unintentional horror is how A Case of Spring Fever reminds us that our society takes a lot of important things for granted. The lives of first-world urbanites revolve around a number of services that could theoretically be pulled out from under us at any moment. Running water is a good example – when I was younger, the water main on the street where I lived broke, and my family had to get our water from a tank truck at the end of the street for a few days while they fixed it. During that time basic things like cooking, washing, and even using the toilet were of course far more inconvenient and time-consuming than we were used to and you can bet it made us appreciate how much we take water for granted... until about an hour and a half after it came back on. Electricity is probably an even better illustration: we don't realize just how much our lives depend on it until the power goes out and we're left not knowing what to do with ourselves until it comes back on.

It's not possible for every single spring on the planet to suddenly evaporate, but things like electricity and water can. A large solar flare could theoretically kill the power grid over huge areas and the damage might take weeks or months to repair (as those who survived Hurricane Sandy can attest). There are places even in North America where infrastructure problems have left people without clean water for years – Flint, Michigan is only the most famous example. Not to mention those of us who are dependent on medications or some other survival aid that makes contemplating the zombie apocalypse way less fun. The world humans have built for ourselves is fragile, and we don't like being reminded of that.

A Case of Spring Fever is something the Brains had kicking around for quite a long time before they found an opportunity to use it – they referenced it in both Viking Women and the Sea Serpent and Bride of the Monster. These skits couldn't have made much sense to the viewers who hadn't yet seen the short, but the host sketches often didn't make much sense anyway – it must have been a relevation when A Case of Spring Fever finally aired. I suspect they put it in front of Squirm because they knew they were being cancelled and this was their last chance to get it on the show. I'm glad they did.

I can think of a few other shorts that manage to be fucked-up and fascinating enough that I'll probably end up reviewing them. Days of Our Years (appearing before The Amazing Transparent Man) comes to mind, as does Design for Dreaming (from Twelve to the Moon). I may even try to track down the entire runs of things like Radar Men from the Moon and Undersea Kingdom, though I'll probably be sorry I did. Wish me luck.

#mst3k #reviews #a case of spring fever #40s

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viciousviolins · 6 years ago

Note

Did you delete your sex tips? I can't find your bj help!?

I did not, but cannot find them on here:

They are on my other website:

https://sexualinnuendo.ca/2018/12/20/blow-me/

But I copied and pasted them below too!

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AH, MY SURE-FIRE BLOW-JOB TIPS:

– Foreplay is always encouraged! A fun unique way —– some hot tea, and cold ice water, and playing with temperatures can be ridiculously effective. Swirl some in your mouth and switch back and forth, and I promise the effect will be mind-blowing——

– Approach: there’s a ton of playing you can do near the penis before beginning the actual dick sucking. Try a graze, kiss, touch, breathe, and look up at your partner. Play with and suck on his balls a little before the main course. If he’s into it I like to lick his asshole, up to his balls, and then all the way up to the tip, before I engulf his dick with my warm mouth.

– Eye contact is key, As much as you can try to look them in the eye. It can be really sexy if you lick the tip, or just kiss it, and give them a wink or something. Tease a little, looking at them all flirty, then right when they are sort of just on edge, deep throat as much as you can.

– Switch it up a bit, blowjobs can honestly bore a lot of guys, which is why some “Can’t get off from head” (ps any guy who says that is full of shit, or they haven’t ever had good enough head.) Like don’t just lick the tip the whole time, or just deep throat it (although the latter is more effective haha) Like tease between licking the side, licking the balls, if you’re feeling adventurous get some bum licks in their too, deep throat it a bit, lick the tip, caress it, use your hands. And switch between different positions. Just like sex, missionary the whole time’s a little mundane, same goes with a blowie.

– Don’t forget about your hands, and your body! You can use your boobs for a bit, give a bit of a tit job for a bit, rub them over him, use your hands on his inner thigh, or balls. Again if you and your partner are more into it, a finger in the bum, or the spot right between the balls and butt hole, can be a great trigger point. Just kind of massage it gently. Run them all over his body. Flip around and 69. Make him an active participant.

– Sometimes no hands work better too! If he’s rock hard, take in his cock as much as possible and utilize your hands elsewhere. Grab his thighs, or butt, or balls for a bit! Let the mouth take on the full job.

– Don’t be afraid to move him. If you’re neck or whatever is getting sore, GRAB YO MAN, forcefully and drag his ass into a comfortable position for you (& him perhaps). If it means you give better, longer head, he’ll be down! Also adds to further variety!

– Practice makes perfect. Honestly dating someone with a big dick got me really good at blowjobs, because every other dick usually is the same or smaller so its easier haha. To mitigate gagging, ball your thumb in your fist and squeeze, it helps. And just try to relax your throat. Try not to lock your jaw too. It will help with longevity if you can keep it relaxed!

– The wetter, and sloppier the better. Like just fucking slobber all over that guys junk, it’s hotter if it is messy. It shows enthusiasm, and just lubrication is always better. It makes your life easier too, cause it’s easier to sort of glide along if you’ve got some good saliva action!

– A big smile with eye contact midway through can be everything as you give the cock a nice big lick or deepthroat.

– I like rubbing the tip of the cock around my lips almost as if it’s my lipstick, and teasing it, until he’s looking at me, so thirsty for it. Then right as he’s so on edge, I take in as much as I possibly can down my throat with a big smile.

– MOAN and be vocal, when you like “hum” mmmm, it creates a vibration that feels great on their dick. It also adds to general enthusiasm, your man, wants you to be enjoying yourself & gets off on you doing so.

– When deep throating, DON’T FORGET your tongue. Don’t just deep throat and leave it like a limp hotdog along for the ride. Actively try to lick, while deep throating (its sort of harder yes,,, but once you figure out how, its fine, and way better for him!) Like as you get your throat near (or at) the base make you tongue lick flat up, then flick it at the top of the frenulum before you go down for another big gulp. Also obviously avoid teeth. Pull your top and bottom lips over the top of them and open your mouth nice and wide to avoid any unwanted teeth action.

– It’s different for every guy what they like, so don’t be afraid to ask, or experiment and sort of be like, how does this feel? I find typically flicking the tongue at the tip, and sort of like…. making out (for lack of a better term) with it the most effective? Think of how you like your clit to be licked. The tip of the dick is similar. The bottom underside where the like head of the cock “joins” is called the frenulum and it is very sensitive. Lots of fast, rapid, small circles are nice, as well as just little licks upward. And swirling your tongue around the whole head is lovely.

– Watch how a guy jerks himself off, and imitate. He knows how to make himself cum better than anyone else. So notice how much pressure he uses, and where he’s sort of tugging that meat, and focusing. Then emulate. I got way better at handjobs just observing dudes. ***They don’t typically hold it as tight as one would think… no vice grip***

– Assuming you want to please your partner, tell them they can cum wherever they want. Typically I just swallow, cause its less messy, and turns on the guy the most, and lets them get off fully without sort of stifling their orgasm. It’s pretty hot if you say “I’m not stopping until I taste your cum”

– Dirty talk, in particular, dick-related & be a cock-worshipper. Things like: “You like watching me suck this big, tasty cock?” or “you’re so hard/big/thick, I love having you inside me.”, or “I’m soaking wet from this thick juicy cock in my mouth…”. It gets a lot of guys every time. Be prepared for them to cum after lots of this haha. Or for them to fuck the daylights out of you.

– A finger or two in the bum, while you are sucking his cock can really intensify every sensation. I like to have one hand ‘pumping’ the dick, mouth, deep throating or teasing the cocks head, and the other hand sort of one finger in the bum, and the other fingers cupping his balls. If you can manage them all together it will set you apart from other partners for sure. Once your finger is in the bum, little ‘pressing’ in and out movements or minimal ‘come here’ motions work. It’s not so much about going super deep, just the finger edging in is often better.

– When you want them to cum, tell them! It’s hot, and like lets them know, like okay, its go time haha. (Although don’t pressure them) but typically they’ll grab your head, and sort of make it happen. I find that if you want them to come, deep-throating with a finger in the bum, just sort of teasing the ass hole, is a sure fire way all the time. If bums aren’t your or your man’s thang, also cupping the balls and tugging relatively gently helps, This will pull all the skin tight on his erect penis, making everything more sensitive.

– When he is cumming, moan, tell him its yummy. And lick it all up. Don’t just stop sucking his dick the second you taste cum, make the orgasm last as long as possible. Milk your man! Keep pumping his dick, or whatever you were doing, until you’re sure he’s fully finished. He’ll probably be twitching and pushing you off, because its crazy sensitive, but don’t you dare leave until he’s like fully done unloading and can’t take anymore! Follow through the orgasm to get its fullest payoff.

– Not for the faint of heart. But sometimes holding the cum in your mouth, and swirling it around the tip after can really feel good for your man. Also sometimes they like to see you licking it up. I always lick my dicks squeaky clean after I get them off. With lots of moaning of course. (*not for everyone)

– Some guys hate this, but running your fingertips or nails all over his body after he’s came can feel amazing.

In a nutshell (heh) just be enthusiastic & playful, be vocal, & enjoy it (I mean hopefully you are, but if not, try to look like you are), make it sloppy, and switch it up. I guarantee you that this will make him come back for more! It’s not a race, pleasure is pleasure, and make every moment count. Make sure you’re on the same page with any bum stuff, before you surprise him with that too! Lastly, these tips aren’t one size fits all, so as always, communication is key, as well as reading your mans verbal and physical cues if he’s enjoying something, or not.

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