#I love the view out the window from my sewing machine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

annelizabethwrites · 2 years

Text

Pairings: Roger Taylor X OC (Scarlett Walker); George Harrison X OC (Star Walker)

Rating: Mature (See Notes, Muses & Warnings for the actual warnings)

POV: Scarlett, Star, George

Warning: slight addiction talk

Wattpad||AO3|| Playlists||Table Of Contents

♕☮︎︎♕☮︎︎♕☮︎︎♕☮︎︎♕☮︎︎♕☮︎︎♕☮︎︎♕☮︎︎♕☮︎︎

July 9th, 1969

"Okay, you're going to love it! I got furniture that probably would match you," Kelly smiled.

"Alright," I raised an eyebrow. Kelly opened the door. It has this beautiful layout. On my left is this little workshop. It has Dress forms, a fabric pressing station, a sewing machine table, and three cabinets with glass for the door. One cabinet showed a collection of multicolor threads. The second showed different fabrics. The third is all the other essentials, Draping Tools, Sewing Tools, Needles, Pattern Making Tools, and Product Development Tools. I walked over to my desk, some drawers were filled, and some weren't, but I loved that all the available tools I needed for designing were on the right side of my desk, the left side if I'm looking from the door.

On the right side of the room is a little living room area. There's an L shape couch with a coffee table in the middle. With this large window sill, the sofa is pushed back against the wall, where I get a beautiful view of the River Thames. That's the same river Big Ben is on, if people wonder. The couch is against the front wall that shares the main door, so the end of the sofa and the back wall has some space. Maybe I could put my records there? The back wall, the wall behind my desk, has a little filing set up behind my desk. Both sides of the filing setup have a door. Both doors are in the middle of the filing setup and the wall's ends; I walked to the door closest to my workshop area. It's a storage closet for designs. And I walked to the other side, and it was a personal bathroom with a clothing rack, so it could also be a changing room. Plus, to match everything, the room has the color scheme of my favorite color, orange, with white, so it doesn't look too poppy.

"It looks amazing!" I smiled, "Thank you, Kelly! I'm obsessed!"

"I'm so glad! Your work is already on your desk, and you can decorate as much as possible! It's your office," Kelly smiled, "Even though I will miss you."

"We're literally across the hall," I laughed.

"Oh, yeah," Kelly said as I laughed, she walked out, and I put my bag in this little cabinet behind the desk for bags, purses, etc. I quickly grabbed out my new driver's license and glasses. Before taking my driver's test, I went to the eye doctor and got my glasses. The shop made them very fast. I need them for writing, reading, drawing, practically anything for nearsightedness. I luckily do not always need to wear glasses. If so, I would never hear the end of it from John. I started to work on my new project, I haven't told anyone yet, but I'm doing my first line! Kelly stole my sketchbook one day to see my designs; she told me to expect a line soon when she gave it back. The next thing I knew, I was COO, and on my first day as COO, I was told I was getting my line. I haven't told anyone, not even Star, I want to surprise everyone, but I have no clue when to surprise them. As I was working, I took breaks for my hand and looked around my room. I noticed the things in my workshop have my initials or full name engraved on the tools. If they're small, it's just SRW, but they have Scarlett Rosemaire Walker if they're big. I was also unpacking my box of decorations on my old desk. I went back to work. I heard the door again and assumed it was Kelly.

"Come in," I yelled as I saw Roger walk in with something behind his back, "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see the new office and brought you a gift," Roger walked up to my desk. He brought out a thing of violets, "Thought flowers would be a nice touch."

"They are, thank you," I smiled, grabbing them and reaching out to quickly kiss him.

"Very spacious," Roger looked around.

"Yeah, it's really..." I was trying to find the words.

"You?" Roger looked at me as I nodded.

"And this was all Kelly," I shrugged.

"It looks perfect," Roger walked to me and hugged me from behind, "Am I allowed to be back here."

"Yes," I giggled.

"How's the hand?" Roger asked.

"Eh, a little swore, I take breaks before I overdo the hand," I shrugged, looking up to see his beautiful eyes, "Lesson learned. Don't punch a wooden board after getting into a fight with my Nana."

"Why not, not getting into fights with your nana?" Roger looked at me.

"Because it's fun to piss her off," I said as Star, George, John, Paul, and Ringo walked in.

"This looks fancy," John started to look around.

"Meaning expensive, don't touch," I looked at him as he started to play with my new tools.

"Right," John put down a tool, automatically walking off, then rummaged through my box.

"Can I help you?" I looked at John.

"Awww, you have our first picture together on your desk," John pulled out the picture of John holding Star and me.

"Stop touching her things," Star looked at John as George and Paul looked at the view, and Ringo was scoping.

"Why are you guys here?" I looked at the five.

"Because we have a surprise for you, well it's drummer boy's ideas, but we helped out," Star sat on my desk.

"What surprise?" I looked at Roger and then my siblings.

"Sit," Roger moved as I sat on my desk chair. Then I got a small box. I opened the box and saw a set of keys with the roadrunner cartoon keychain.

"What did you six do?" I looked at them.

"Come on, and grab your license," Ringo started to walk out, I grabbed my wallet, and we walked outside. We got to the parking lot to see a 1967 Orange Plymouth Roadrunner. My mouth dropped. Since I was 12 in my 2019 life, this has been my dream car and always has been in this life.

"You guys didn't!" I gasped.

"We did," everyone mimicked my reaction. I turned around and forced everyone into a group hug.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" I smiled as I still forced everyone into a hug if they were in a hugging mood or not.

"I am guessing you like the car?" Roger laughed as we pulled out of the hug

"Are you kidding? I love it!" I smiled and jumped, "And I'm not letting Elaina touch it."

"Good idea," Star rolled her eyes, then grabbed my arm. She dragged me to the car, "I got the same guy who switched the driver side on my mustang to do your car. He is also the guy who installed the new radio, so I got you a radio upgrade and a thing of cassettes."

In the middle compartment, Star showed me the cassette of my favorite bands, including The Beatles.

"It's perfect! Thank you!" I smiled.

Later...

Roger had to go back to Death Row, and Ringo had to do something with Maureen. They're trying to move past her affair with George. Paul left to be with Linda; she's a little anxious as she is in her eighth month of pregnancy, and John went to be with Yoko. George and Star are just hanging around my office while talking.

"What are you doing?" Star asked.

"Paperwork for tomorrow," I looked up at her, then back at my paperwork to realize I didn't have a photographer written down for tomorrow, "Oh, my beautiful twin sister."

"What do you want?" Star looked away from the window.

"Can you be the photographer for tomorrow's photoshoot?" I innocently smiled, "Pretty please?"

"Sure, I'm sure my boss wouldn't mind," Star shrugged, "Speaking of... I should go back to work."

"You think?" George and I looked at her.

July 10th, 1969

I drove Star and her equipment to my work. The plus side to Kelly's Closet HQ is that there were renovations a few years ago to do everything there. The addition is a bit half level, which is the runway floor with a launch party room. It's built on a hill. The main floor is the offices, conferences rooms, cafeteria, and essential rooms to run a business. The next floor is for promos, such as photo shoots, interviews, and commercials. There are two manufacturer floors. One's jewelry from when Anne was here, the other is for clothes making, and the basement is for packaging. Since it's built on a hill, a piece of the cellar sticks out, where the loading docs are. Star and I walked in, and the staff had already started to grab Star's equipment, we walked into the room, and the models were already ready, getting their makeup done.

"Star!" Theo walked over.

"Why are you here?" Star looked at him.

"I'm here to support my girlfriend," Theo smiled.

"Shit, Maddie is dating you," I looked at Theo.

"Yeah, I know I'm so out of her league," Theo smirked.

"Scarlett!" Maddie ran over, "We got bad news."

"What?" I looked at her.

"We're down a model. Dotty left," Maddie said.

"What do you mean, Dotty left?" I breathed out.

"Her new job wanted her now, so she had to move pronto. She wasn't even allowed to wait until after the show," Maddie explained.

"Shit," I muttered, "Give me a few minutes. I may know someone that could help."

Dotty was the head model, none of the girls wanted to be the head model, so Kelly had to hire someone willing to be the head model. The other girls feared that the position would make them think they were better than the other girls and didn't want to ruin their bond.

A few minutes...

I walked into Brian and Tim's flat and breathed out, Please don't get an ego boost. I was about to storm into Tim's room, knowing she was here since she didn't come home last night.

"El," I sighed, knocking on the door. I heard a bang, rumbling, then finally footsteps at the door. Elaina walked out in one of Tim's shirts and her underwear.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Elaina looked at me.

"I need you for something," I sighed.

"For what?" Elaina asked.

"How do you feel about modeling?" I rubbed my face.

"No, no, I'm not letting my girlfriend be jerking bait for some creep!" Tim quickly interfered, we looked over, and I saw Tim's tiny Tim. I closed my eyes and gagged.

"Jesus, hide that!" I gagged.

"Shit, sorry, Scar," Tim said. After a few minutes, Tim finally spoke, "Okay, you can open your eyes now."

"Listen, my head model just quit, so not am I only short a model. I need a head model. The other girls refused the position, afraid of ruining their team bond." I looked at Elaina, "And I thought, why not my big ego hot best friend who never really met them and probably didn't want to."

"I'm not that much of a bitch," Elaina scoffed, "But the offer is tempting."

"See," I looked at her as Freddie and Roger walked into the flat.

"Hey, Little Wolf," Roger walked over and kissed me, "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to give Elaina a much better job than Biba," I told him, then looked right at Tim, "But someone doesn't want his girlfriend to be quote on quote 'jerking bait' to other men."

"Well, I don't. Models are known to be jerking bait. I don't want my girlfriend to be on some teenager's wall for him to jerk off too," Tim threw his hands up.

"Who's jerking off?" Freddie interfered in the conversation.

"No one," Roger rolled his eyes.

"I heard jerking off," Freddie shrugged as Brian walked out of his room.

"Tim doesn't want me to be a model because other men could jerk off to my picture," Elaina explained.

"What did I walk into?" Brian looked at us.

"Tim being an Arse," Elaina blinked.

"El wants to be a model, and unlike Scarlett, I don't think El would like it if she becomes other guys jerking bait," Tim said.

"Unlike Scarlett?" I crossed my arms, lifting an eyebrow.

"Come on, everyone knows the Beatles twins were the 60s jerking bait, still are in some horny teen's bedroom," Tim said as Elaina slapped him.

"I don't think Rog would like to hear that," Elaina said.

"He was one of them!" Tim pointed out.

"Not the point!" I groaned.

"No, this is getting interesting," Freddie said.

"I'm in. Modeling is my passion. Let's go!" Elaina looked at me, wanting to get out of this conversation, like me.

"One, you need pants. Two; In the nicest way possible, you need a shower your greasy and sweaty," I looked at her.

"Yeah, because love birds have been doing rounds since last night." Brian scoffed.

"I'm scared when you two start fucking." Freddie looked at Roger and me as Roger comfortably rested his head on my shoulder with his arms wrapped around me.

"Mmmm, we will be extra loud just for you, darling," I mimicked Freddie's voice. I got good at that after hanging around him for four years. The others started to laugh as Freddie rolled his eyes.

"I'll make sure your extra loud," Roger huskily whispered in my ear as I breathed out, then Roger softly kissed my ear, "But that's all when you're ready if you're ready with me."

"If you still decide to stick around with this crazy, because as far as I'm concerned, you and I are kinda a forever thing," I looked up at him with a smirk.

"You're not crazy, but I like to hear that we're still on the same bases," Roger kissed my temple, "Because we're a forever kind of thing."

"I'm still going to do it. It's a no-brainer job!" Elaina looked at Tim as Roger, and I zoned back into the world around us, "Please? For me? I support you being a musician, and I'm sure you're some fan's jerk bait."

"You really went there," Tim sighed, "I'll always support you, just welcoming to the fact."

"Good, because I should get back before Kelly realizes I'm not at work," I looked at my watch, then looked at Elaina, "I'll drive you to the flat to freshen up."

"Thanks! Let me put pants on," Elaina walked into Tim's room and quickly got changed.

"I'll see you later?" I looked up at Roger with a smirk.

"Of course," Roger kissed me, "I love you, have a great rest of your day."

"I love you too," I giggled, we shared one more kiss before Elaina, and I left. Elaina took a shower but didn't wet her hair and changed into something easy to get out of. We returned to Kelly's Closet HQ, and Kelly ran to me.

"We have an emergency because our head model just quit, and you went out to hang out with Elaina?" Kelly looked at me.

"No, I fixed our emergency," I pushed Elaina in front of me, "Meet your new head model."

"Hi," Elaina waved as Kelly grabbed me and dragged me a few feet away.

"Her? Really?" Kelly looked at me.

"Listen, El always wanted to become a model. She knows the shit. The sisterhood models refuse to be the head model because they fear egos will break their bond." I pointed to the girl models, "Elaina doesn't know any of them and probably doesn't want to. This causes no drama with models and a model asap."

Kelly paused, clicked her tongue, and looked at Elaina, looking around and taking it all in. Kelly looked at the team of models and then back at Elaina.

"Good news, guys!" Kelly shouted, then grabbed Elaina and walked over, "Due to the quick quitting of Dotty, Scarlett's best mate, Elaina quickly jumped into her position. So please give a welcome to Elaina Wilson."

"She had to add El's your best mate," Star walked up to me.

"If they don't like her, blame me," I shrugged, "Good idea on her end."

We finally got the photoshoot rolling. Elaina put on an outfit and got hair and makeup. Star started taking pictures of the models while I ensured the outfits looked precisely how I pictured them. Kelly was helping Star with the models' poses. It was all coming together. Once I finished the costumes, I walked over with water bottles for Kelly and Star.

"This is all coming together," I smiled.

"Proud?" Kelly looked at me as I nodded.

"Yeah, I never thought my first thing as COO was my own line!" I smiled.

"You own line?" Star and Elaina shouted, as an 'oh shit' face quickly went on mine. I turned around to see the two arms crossed and glaring at me.

"Got something to tell me?" Star looked at me.

"I love you?" I looked at her.

"Scarlett! How come you didn't tell me!" Star looked at me.

"I was trying to find the right time to tell you lots," I coughed. Star looked, then quickly hugged me, "What are you doing?"

"Shut up. I'm trying to hug you," Star said, "I'm so proud of you!"

"If you're hugging me, why hug me tightly?" I looked at her.

"Just shut up and hug me back before you ruin the moment," Star rolled her eyes as I hugged her back.

Later...

After the photoshoot, Elaina quit Biba and signed a contract with Kelly's Closet. The cafeteria had extra donuts. I volunteered to take them home since we're driving to Abbey Road. Once we got there, I dropped off the donuts on a table and then quickly ran to the bathroom so I could change out of my outfit. I walk back into the live room to see the lads, Yoko, and Star eating donuts.

"Whatcha doing?" I looked at the six.

"Nothing," the four boys said as Star and Yoko stayed quiet.

"We totally were not just eating your donuts," Ringo brushed his hands together to get the powder off his hands but not his face.

"You got powder on your face," I sighed as Ringo wiped powder off his face.

"So, how was the photo shoot?" George asked, already taking another donut.

"Good, my head model quit, so El is the new head model of Kelly's Closet," I walked over and took a donut.

"El? Don't you have a full team?" John looked at me.

"The girls have this pack where none of them take the head model position, afraid to break their bond. So they let Kelly hire a head model instead of picking one of them," I explained.

"That makes no sense," Paul looked at me.

"I don't ask," I rolled my eyes.

"Don't you also have something to tell them?" Star coughed, giving me a look. I gave her a look while everyone else gave me a confused look.

"What do you need to tell us?" Ringo looked.

"Something good?" Paul asked.

"Something bad?" John asked.

"Inbetween?" George added probably didn't want to feel left out.

"Um... you see... the line isn't Kelly's line," I tried to tell my family I had a line coming out.

"Whose line is it?" John asked.

"Mine. It's my first line," I coughed. Their faces were in shock, but a good kind of shock.

"You have your own line?" Paul looked at me as I nodded.

"Yeah, surprise?" I threw up jazz hands, and the lads dropped their donuts, ran up, and hugged me. That's a first. Star did, of course, join the hug, I felt a little squished, but I felt the love.

"We're so proud of you!" the five hugged me.

"Thanks, guys," I smiled.

July 11th, 1969

"Thanks for helping me get this record player," I smiled at Roger.

"No problem. Do you need any help setting it up?" Roger looked at me.

"No, I should be fine. But thank you," I hugged Roger, nuzzling my head in his hair a bit, then whispered, "But you can hang around if you want."

"I would love that," Roger smiled before kissing me. We broke the hug. I grabbed my glasses and started to assemble the table for it. On the top is just a record player. I'm not a radio person. The talking and commercials just keep on going, in my opinion. Still, I have a portable one just in case someone has a radio interview or emergency. It came with two speakers. Roger and I were talking as I was setting up. Roger started to look at my collection of records, and he made commentary on my selection.

"The fact that you voluntarily listen to the Beatles is hysterical," Roger laughed.

"Their music is good, and I'm not saying that because they're my brothers," I looked at Roger.

"Right," Roger gave me a look as I rolled my eyes and finished putting the record player together.

"Can I have a record?" I asked. Roger quickly pulled out a present, "You with presents."

"We both kinda spoil the shit out of each other," Roger got off my desk and handed me the gift.

"We do, don't we?" I took the gift and opened it to see Frankie Valli's single Can't Take My Eyes Off You. It's my and Roger's song. When we first started to go out in December, we went to this club. They had a playlist of a high school prom, and one of the songs was Can't Take My Eyes Off You, which became the first song we ever danced to. Then not too long after we got back together, it was playing on the radio. Roger and I were just at my flat and started dancing to it. It wasn't long before we made it our song.

"You got me our song," I smiled, "I love it."

"I'm glad. Why don't you test out the new record with the new record player," Roger smiled. I carefully opened the new record and started to play the single. I turned to see Roger have his hand out to dance, I took it, and we began to dance around my office. The record was outstanding, and the player sounded amazing once we finished dancing. I put the vinyl back in its sleeve and started to put my albums in order. My system is that my favorite band is closest to the player, albums in chronological order of release, then my second favorite, third favorite, etc. I chose the Beatles to be next to my record player since they were my favorite band in my 2019 life and still are to this day, but it's just The Beach Boys beat them to it for my favorite band in this life. But once Queen starts to form, and the albums get produced, they'll be next to my record player, Beatles, Beach Boys, etc.

"Scarlett! I have amazing news!" Kelly burst in, "Oh hey, Rog."

"Hey Kelly," Roger waved.

"Anyways, I have news, and don't be mad," Kelly looked at me.

"Why would I be mad?" I looked at her.

"BecausemysterymanisSimon," Kelly quickly stated.

"What?" I looked at her.

"I may or may not be dating your cousin," Kelly coughed.

"What?" Roger and I both said but in different pretexts.

"You're dating my cousin?!" I looked at her.

"Surprise?" Kelly smiled as I breathed out. She left immediately, either in fear or assuming we were on an official date. I turned around and walked right into Roger's arms. I like it here. I always felt safe in Roger's arms, and it's good because I can't remember the last time I felt this safe in someone's arms.

"Hi," Roger laughed a bit before kissing me.

"Hi," I smiled, "I have news to tell you."

"What is it?" Roger broke the hug, grabbed my hand, and sat on my new couch. This is really comfy.

"I have my own line coming out," I smiled with excitement.

"Really?!" Roger's face brightened with excitement as I nodded.

"That's what I've been working on since I got back," I smiled as Roger quickly hugged me, and I giggled. We both fell over, and he was on top of me, embracing me with kisses as I laughed.

"I'm so proud of you," Roger rose up, touching my nose with his, "I already know it looks amazing, and I'll be buying all the men's outfits."

"Don't, stores overprice things," I giggled, wrapping my hands around his neck.

"Yeah, but my girlfriend made them. They'll be worth every penny," Roger smiled. I moved my hand to cup his cheek and moved my head up to kiss him.

"I love you, Roger Meddows Taylor," I stroke my thumbs against his cheek.

"I love you, Scarlett Rosemarie Walker, and I'm very proud!" Roger gently grabbed my hand while putting all his weight on his other hand.

July 20th, 1969

Roger and I are cuddled up in my bed. Star and George use my couch bed since George's parents use Star and George's bedroom. They came for a visit, and today we have a private screening of Let It Be. Not going to lie. I'm a bit nervous to see it. The movie's beginning has me recovering from amnesia, and the end is when Roger and I broke up. Not to mention Star and George's one-night stand happened during the filming, and they seemed very awkward afterward. A beautiful nightmare woke me up today. I'm panting and drenched in sweat; I haven't had a nightmare; they haven't been as frequent. I used to get them almost every night. It was rare to have a night where I didn't have them. Now I get them maybe twice a week.

I changed into a dusty yellow blouse with yellow plaid shorts and finished the look with sandal Wedges. I put my hair up and realized I had time to make everyone breakfast. I made pancakes, the same recipe our dad used. Star and I got the cookbooks since we're the only ones who bake and cook.

"I remember that smell," Star walked in, looking like she just followed the smell, "Dad's pancakes, my favorite thing to wake up to."

"I figured you'll be in the mood for pancakes," I laughed.

"When am I not?" Star laughed.

"When you're in the mood for fettuccine alfredo," I laughed.

"They're both good. I can't help it, but I can put strawberries on pancakes," Star started to make a teapot.

"Can you cut bananas?" I looked at her as she nodded, "I figured the others are probably coming over."

"No, duh," Star started to cut some bananas, "Do you think Geo and Rog will be confused when they wake up, and we're not there?"

"Probably. But George knows we're borderline insomniacs," I flipped over the pancakes.

"Does Rog know?" Star looked at me.

"Don't know. I figured it's just something he'll figure out. When I can't sleep, I bake," I shrugged.

"Speaking of, I want to try this thing, where you put a cookie and brownie together and see what it tastes like," Star said.

"I'll put it on the list," I laughed. It wasn't long before Roger and George woke up. Roger got changed while George stayed in his pajamas like Star. They forgot to grab their clothes. Elaina stayed over at Tim's, and we double-dated. When George's parents woke up, they got ready then George and Star quickly got dressed. Star has a white dress with long sleeves and stops at mid-thigh and white gogo boots.

"Oh, wonder twins!" John barged in as Star and I sighed. John, Paul, Linda, Yoko, and Ringo walked into the kitchen, saying, "You made dad's pancakes!"

"Yeah," I finished cleaning up my pancake mess.

Later ( Star's POV )...

After eating breakfast, we hung out around the flat before it was time to see this private screening. Micheal Lindsay-Hogg was waiting outside for us. Scarlett and Roger sat behind Mr. Harrison, me, George, and Mrs. Harrison. The director is next to Scarlett and Roger in the last row, and Linda, Paul, Ringo, John, and Yoko are all behind us. George had his arm around me. I laid my head on George's collarbone. I moved my head and leaned it back to see Scarlett.

"Ready to relive the amnesia?" I joked.

"Jumping with joy," Scarlett rolled her eyes.

"You wouldn't have gotten amnesia if you weren't such a shit driver," John looked at Scarlett as Scarlett turned to John.

"How's Yoko's back?" Scarlett asked. John glared at Scarlett as we both snickered, and I high-fived Scarlett. I faced forward again while still sneering. The movie started, and George and I cuddled up watching the movie. Thank god it's dark, so the other three don't make fun of us. The beginning of the film had one scene of Scarlett having amnesia, then the very next, John grabbed the phone, and they left in a rush. That had to be when Scarlett got her memories back. The movie got a few giggles from how different it's been, which was the beginning of this year. We got to George and John's fight, where we heard the two now slide down their chairs. Then a few shots were without George, and he got comfortable again. Then he came back, and the two of us acted weird afterward. George and I sunk in our seats as Scarlett snickered at us, knowing why we acted strangely. But it wasn't long before it was the scene of us dragging Scarlett to the studio because Roger 'cheated' on her. She quickly stopped snickering and slid down in her seat while the lads and I laughed at her.

Later...

We all decided to go out for lunch, it was just John, Ringo, Yoko, Linda, Paul, George, Scarlett, me, Roger, and George's parents. We laughed at the movie and talked about it when we filmed it.

"It felt like it was years ago," Paul had his arm around Linda, rested his hand on her baby bump, then looked at Scarlett and me, "For you two, it must-have."

"Yeah," I sighed.

"It did for me," Scarlett shrugged. We got into our separate conversations, and John surprisingly started to talk to Roger.

"So, how are you and George doing?" Mrs. Harrison asked.

"Good, really good," I smiled.

"How are those two living together?" Mrs. Harrison looked at Scarlett.

"Good, they've been surprisingly on their best behavior," Scarlett said as I gave her a look.

"How is it with him moving in general?" Mrs. Harrison asked.

"I mean, I noticed more biscuits are coming into the flat than before, but it's been great," Scarlett joked as I gave her a look.

"I'm so glad he's finally with his lucky Star. I can tell he's been happier since you two have been dating," Mrs. Harrison looked at me as I blushed.

"That's good because she's been much happier since she started to date her Georgie," Scarlett started to tease me.

"She seems much like her old self," Mrs. Harrison looked at me.

"I'm glad to say I am," I smiled, as I hate to admit it. Once the drugs and partying entered my life, I changed. But as soon as I sobered up, all the parts of me that I didn't know disappeared came back, and I felt like myself again, which feels good, "I've been two months clean from the toxins that changed me."

"I'm glad to hear that," Mrs. Harrison smiled. I felt a gentle squeeze on my hand. As soon as I turned over, George kissed me. Of course, John and Paul made noises, but Linda, Yoko, and Scarlett automatically stopped them.

"You know, in some way, we match," George looked at my outfit.

"A bit. We both have white on," I giggled. Mrs. Harrison and Scarlett talked for a while before I joined their conversation. Then Mrs. Harrison and Scarlett joined up to tease me until I blushed.

"You know, I'm shocked he hasn't asked for your hand," Mrs. Harrison joked.

"I assume if Geo asked that too, John would've killed him," Scarlett laughed.

"She's not wrong," John added.

"We all thought those two would get married first," Mr. Harrison added to the fun.

"I always said they were love at first sight," Scarlett snickered.

"What is their love story? No one told me," Linda genuinely asked. Scarlett took up the offer to tease two of her eight siblings. She, of course, started to tell Linda the story. George and I blushed so hard that we slid down the seat until we physically couldn't anymore.

July 23rd, 1969

Theo, Cecilia, and I just finished an interview to find someone in our quad's last desk slot. In Bluebird, the writers are organized in quads. It's four desks connected together, and it builds our team. There are seven quads. Not every square has four people or even one at the moment.

"She won't fit," Theo rubbed his face, exhausted.

"She's too hyper," Cecilia looked at Theo and me.

"I swear if I hear 'like' or 'oh my gosh' one more time in that annoying ass tone, I'm going to kill someone," I rubbed my temple.

"Oh my gosh, Star!" Theo mimicked the girl we just interviewed as I laughed.

"I will be the perfect fit," Cecilia added as we got to our seats.

"If I had to sit across that every day, I would lose it," I rubbed my temples.

"Tell me about it," Theo rolled his eyes.

"That or I would just duct tape her mouth shut," Cecilia said.

"I'll help you," I chuckled as Marcus and Terry walked up.

"And?" The two looked at us.

"Are you trying to hire the most annoying journalist possible?" I looked at them, "Like she doesn't know fucking English with the usage of 'Like' and 'Oh my gosh,' not to mention the loud ass gum chewing."

"She's a no," Cecilia looked at them.

"Star just gave you my answer," Theo pointed to me, "The girl is fucking annoying."

"Alright, we'll let her know," The two sighed, walking off, looking happy we didn't like her. She stormed out of the conference room as I looked at the clock.

"I need help with something," Theo looked at Cecilia and me, "What would be a good romantic date?"

"Well, it differs," I looked at him.

"Yeah, every girl is different," Cecilia added.

"Yeah. Like some girls prefer elegant restaurants. Others like just a movie night on the couch," I said, "But since Maddie is a model, I say she likes the elegant stuff. Take her to Paramount."

"The shit is expensive there," Theo looked at me as I grabbed my wallet, took out the coupon I got for the Paramount from fan mail, threw my signature on the back, and gave it to Theo.

"Here, say we work together, and I gave you this. My signature on the back probably would give a few pounds off," I looked at Theo.

"Thanks," Theo took the coupon. We got up and started to head to lunch. Aaron has the night shift this week for the radio. He and Matt switch sometimes, and on the weekends, they're totally different people, so it's easy for Aaron and Matt to fix their sleeping schedules.

"I'm going to the Coffee Lounge to see Ronny. You two in?" Theo looked at us.

"No thanks, I'm going to Abbey Road to have lunch with George and my siblings," I smiled.

"Sorry, I can't. Already made plans at the Premier," Cecilia frowned.

"It's alright, catch you two later," Theo waved as I looked at Cecilia.

"Can you drive me? My car has been getting repaired since Elaina crashed it. I'll walk from the Premier," I said.

"Of course," Cecilia smiled. The two of us went into her car and drove to the Premier. We got to the Premier, and I told her not to worry about the ride home. I walked to Abbey Road and noticed Scarlett's car parked outside.

"Hola," I walked in.

"Heyla," Scarlett has casual clothes on.

"No work?" I asked.

"Kelly told me I need a day off because I'm a workaholic," Scarlett said as I sat next to her, "They're almost done. We're waiting for you."

"Awww, thank you, I feel special," I jokingly said. The lads walked into the room, probably talking about their work. George walked up, hugged, and kissed me. I embraced him as Linda and Maureen came.

"No, Rog?" I asked Scarlett as we walked out.

"No, he has some band stuff. I know I'm second with them," Scarlett joked a bit.

"Y'know, if I knew we were going to be here, I might've as well just waited here for you guys." I walked with the group to the Premier.

"You were here first?" Scarlett raised an eyebrow.

"Cece drove me here as I walked to the studio," I answered.

"Guys!" Chef walked up to us, "Table for nine?"

"Yep," We smiled, "Hi-ya chef!"

"Come on this way. I'm noticing the eyes, so I'm giving you guys a more private spot." Chef walked us to this more closed-off room. We all got seated. I sat between George and Scarlett. Chef got us a waiter, and we ordered our drinks.

"How's work so far?" George put an arm around me.

"Tired. This lady I had to interview was a bloody walking headache," I sighed, "She talked annoyingly and didn't even know proper English."

"So I guess she's not a fit?" George asked.

"Far from it," I rubbed my temples. Not too long after, we got our drinks and then food.

"Scarlett, got any plans for the weekend?" Paul asked.

"Glad you asked. I need help on something," Scarlett said, "Saturday is Roger's 20th birthday, and I want to do something big for him. But-"

"You suck at parties since they've never been your scene?" I cut her off.

"Yep," Scarlett coughed, "He should have an amazing 20th birthday, but that's not under my department."

"Why don't you get Freddie? Isn't he good at that shit?" John looked at her.

"Yeah, but Freddie didn't plan my 20th birthday. You lots did," Scarlett said.

"Yeah, but they're all boring now," I looked at her.

"Hey," the lads looked at me.

"So am I. I stopped partying when I stopped the drugs, booze, and sex because the five years of it bit me in the ass." I shrugged.

"Five years of it?!" John and Paul glared at me. Oh fuck.

"We thought you only did all that when we weren't talking," John glared at me.

"I did," I blankly said.

"Well, apparently not if you did it for five years," John looked forward to me as I clicked my tongue.

"No regrets?" I forced a smile.

"Explain now," John said.

"Or never because it's none of your business," I looked at him.

"If it was five years ago, you would be under my guardianship. Therefore it is my business, so Star Judith Walker, stop being a pain in my ass and just fucking explain," John glared. I could sense the anger burst coming out if I stall any longer.

"Just tell him, he will lash out in a restaurant," Scarlett said, "He'll find out eventually and if he gives you shit, give it back."

"Fine," I sighed and looked at John and Paul, "If you must know. I lied. Big shock."

It was a bit quiet. I focused on my food while John and Paul muttered something, got up, and left.

"I'll-" Scarlett started to move.

"I got it, my mess anyway," I sighed, getting up and following John and Paul. I got close to them and pulled onto their sleeves, not wanting to make a scene. The two turned around and glared at me.

"Listen, to not make a scene look happy and don't shout," I smiled as I noticed people spotting us.

"Or we can do this," John yanked me and dragged me into an alleyway with Paul following. He let go of me and glared, "What the fuck?!"

"I'm sorry," I looked down.

"You're sorry? Five years? And clearly, it's yet another secret you kept from us since George, Ringo, and Scarlett aren't out here either." John yelled, "What do those three have that you can tell them fucking everything but leave Paul and me out?"

"It has nothing to do with you," I looked at him.

"Oh really? Then how come we're the last to know?" Paul asked.

"Because I didn't want people to know. Scarlett knows because we shared a room. George knew because I started when we were hiding a relationship. Ringo found out because George wouldn't mind his fucking business when he was with Pattie and constantly dragged Ringo to places where he knew I was." I said, "If I had it my way, no one would've fucking known. I didn't want people to know because I would've gotten the disappointing speech."

"I'm sorry, okay? And I'm not going to say I regret it because I don't. I had loads of experience and lots of fun. So if you want to hear me say I regret it, you're not," I looked at them.

"How bad were you?" Paul asked.

"Don't ask questions you don't really want to know the answer to," I sighed.

"I want to know since everyone else knows." John looked at me.

"I don't know. I tried a lot of shit, but I stayed away from the needle," I looked down, "I got hooked on most. Still, I was the one taking your and George's LSD stickers, plus I took some Coke when you guys were experimenting on that too..."

I bit my lip and glued my eyesight to the ground. I feared the disappointing looks Scarlett refused to give. I heard footsteps and looked further to the bottom to see Paul walking away.

"I'm not saying I'm disappointed, but I thought after what Nancy put you through, you wouldn't be a junkie," John scoffed.

"But here we are," I still looked down, feeling tears fall from my face.

George's POV

"So, umm, is she going to get in trouble?" Linda coughed.

"Most likely," Scarlett said, "They're arses when it comes to Star and I doing something we really shouldn't."

Paul walked in with no John or Star. I started to feel a bit anxious.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Oh, you mean the one that lied to us for years?" Paul grumbled.

"You want to go there?" Scarlett raised an eyebrow, "She had a problem. Thanks to everyone at this table, including Payton and Venessa, she's clean. So give her a break because she didn't tell you, and as someone that did know, you didn't want to go down that path with her."

I looked down, not wanting to interfere, but some guilt started to fill me in. I know I'm partially why Star got so bad, and she hasn't talked to me about her sobriety or addiction. Just says she's sober, and that's all she wants to say.

"Are you going to talk or just sit there?" Paul said, "You apparently bloody known for years but didn't think of telling us."

"Not my business," I shrugged, "She didn't want anyone to know, so I didn't. I didn't tell Pattie; she found out by herself. I didn't tell Ringo; he found out by himself. Maybe if you guys paid more attention, you would've found out. It wasn't that hard. She was constantly under the influence. You just needed to look at her to realize something was wrong."

"Oh, so it's our fault?" Paul said.

"I'm not fighting with you on this, don't point fingers because she didn't tell you. She didn't tell any of us. We just realized something was off about her, and instead of giving her shit, maybe be glad she's okay," I crossed my arms, getting frustrated. John walked in and glared at me.

"Be glad? She could've died, and we wouldn't have known why, but you did," John crossed his arms.

"But she didn't," Scarlett said.

"Oh, miss little twin, please tell me why the fuck you didn't tell me after what Nancy di-" John started to say.

"Before you finish that, let me make this clear. Star and Nancy are two different people. With two different relationships with drugs," Scarlett started, "Nancy was a spoiled little bitch that used drugs and alcohol for her needs. Her selfishness, not caring who she scars or hurts. Star used drugs and partying to escape the PTSD, depression, and anxiety Nancy gave her. She didn't tell people because she didn't want to hurt those she loved. Star was sick and got help. She's clean, and you two acting like this will not make her feel better."

They started to argue as I stood up and walked out. I honestly could care less what they're talking about. The only thing that matters is knowing Star is okay, and all I want to do is wrap my arms around her until I know she's genuinely fine. I walked out of the Premier and started to look for her.

"George?" I heard as I turned around to the alleyway to see Star. I didn't say anything, and neither did she. I just walked up to her and embraced her. She hugged me back. Her grip was tight as I heard her silently whimper.

"It's going to be okay." I kissed her on top of her head while rubbing her back as she melted into my embrace.

0 notes

benevadeca · 2 years

Text

Rewatching house 3 days after seeing it for the 1st time and things noticed//more thoughts on the themes of it etc. literally me examining it line by line like ugh i get it. the symbolism the cinnamontopography. also GOD all of this ended up being ONLY for part 1 hhhh i'll make a seperate post for the other parts actually:

"I see your father in you, it's a weakness" > explicitly by attempting to NOT be like his father/falling for his relative's peer pressure that causes him to do exactly what his dad did to him (neglect and leave his children worse off than they would've been otherwise)

Penny rights! I know this is a daddy problem's focused story but I do enjoy that while she falls quite easily into the deferential passive mother-figure she does have a bit more will to her than is first apparent. That she's the reason her kid's manage to escape the house/minimizes the consequences of the inevitable spiral of intergenerational trauma presented by the father (poverty to orphanhood is better than poverty to dying and being dead probably)

I think she's very interesting. Like she has some awareness of what isn't right but she still falls for it. (Sitting at the sewing machine after staying up all night- "i've got so much work to do" when before she'd work together with Mabel on chores / "Isobel don't touch that" subconscious awareness of its danger when it's related to her kids but not herself) I think her silence on everything that happens (several scenes where Raymond is a speaking agent and she's just silent beside him) is the most telling? Like very Feminine Mystique failure of women to be given the opportunity for identity outside of wifehood and maternal identity (this 2nd one being kind of secondary and idk how to describe how it ties into her complicitness in the neglect of her daughters but ehhhh) yeah obvs not something the narrative focuses on but regardless is does pervade the plotline implicitly....

but yeah anyway uhhh maybe something like her falling for the pretty lie, but still working within her own means to try and provide something real? tangible? because it was her curtains that helped them escape in the end. also her being the one who still had the sense to tell her kids to escape

Furniture as a motif in part 1 maybe? like it's also in the other two a bit but not used quite how it was in the 1st. the 2nd is more abt technology and the 3rd is more widely general w/ the whole repurposing things. but yeah part 1 uhhh

furniture that's passed down through generations, the dollhouse: things that connect you with your loved ones, all the furniture in the new house taking their places, being "designed by the architect" not as things with sentiment with history but as objects to own. Again parallels his relatives comments on the dresser thing, them only seeing it as a statement piece VS raymond "it was my father's" seeing the value of it as something more.

THE ROOM LITERALLY NAMED "WITHDRAWING ROOM" the room where they withdrew from themselves one another their children their previous lives values feelings. this movie makes me want to eat plaster. also it being "right across" from the dining room and the recurring themes of indulgence/desire/gluttony like why don't you shoot me in the head actually i would feel less deranged.

I feel like windows are a pretty interesting recurring motif thru the whole movie and not just part 1 but IDK the words for it

PT 1: relatives looking out the carriage window > architect through the carriage window > actor standing in the window before coming into the house

also the more obvious progresses from looking upward at the work on the new house thru the window // Mabel seeing their old house down below (in the dark of the night) > a room blocking the view (you're trapped now kids!) > the house getting destroyed (in the light of the day)

Also Penny specifically relating to this. Her theme of curtains- seeing the windows left bare so she'd have something to make busy with (prove her own value, the value of her work to make a home, which she ends up distracted from the moment she neglects her kids ofc and it becomes more the work to make beautiful, superficially). But also it again being her that allows them to escape out the window, they physically climb down her transformed body to escape.

The scene w/ raymond looking out the window as well! Something about the house contrasted at night VS in the daytime maybe? Windows are something that narrow your vision, only show you a limited perspective. But also the house at night is more dangerous kind of, because where would you be in the dark but at home? The night is where danger lurks (where raymond was first tempted) (but also like. the dark of the upstairs where the kids got lost, the metaphor is losing me but anyway)

Still thinking of light as a recurring metaphor, as desire, as something mesmerizing that can cloud your view // combined with it being easy to miss the reality of your situation if you fail to step back and look at it from a further perspective.

everyone standing in awe of the house but it's only Mabel who takes a moment to look away and see the actor hiding in the corner. Also her when they're in the house, everyone blinded by the house itself but only she sees all the other workers at play. Something something being blinded by what's in front of you you fail to see what's around you.

#mine #the house 2022 #lb #i am simply word salading my way thru this liveblog the hyper is fixating

19 notes · View notes

thesunshinebunny · 3 years

Text

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part I)

Series Master list

Pairing: Canon Eren Jaeger x reader

Content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter Summary: After watching their teammates die in battle, reader begins to question their sanity and of their so-called partner.

AN: let me say goodbye to my favorite girl, who got me the best laughs and relieved my anxiety while reading manga chapters. At the same time, let me succumb to the misery and enlarge the wound with an canon Eren. I won’t be against following this fic if I see that a lot of people like it, but my list of fandoms isn’t going to change, this will be a unique exception.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The chill in the air from the airship rushed through my veins. Less than two hours ago, I had seen countless comrades die, each one of them struck by bullets in different parts of their bodys or eaten by a Titan. I had seen countless lives fall and had been unable to save any. I knew we were going on a suicide mission, but deep down inside of me, I hoped we would all come home alive.

I was very naïve to think of a happy ending in this rotten and violent world.

Inside the room I was in, my mind wandered looking through one of the few windows this war machine gave us. I wasn't paying attention to what Levi or Eren were saying, I didn't even have the slightest intention of asking why Zeke was with us. Although being a member of the Survey Corps and a direct and in training medic, I was not fully informed of the missions. Eren’s courtesy.

Bored and mentally tired, I left the room where my leaders were having a heated discussion with "humanity's last hope." I didn't have the strength to add more charcoal to the fire, but trust me when I tell you I wasn’t at all happy with Eren's plan, simply and exclusively because I was completely unaware.

I walked down the hall making a mental note to kick the brunette in the face like Levi did when we got back. If my so-called partner, who had the decency to slowly push me away over the last year without explanation, wasn’t confident enough to tell me whatever was going on in his mind, then we would be in front of the doors of a serious conversation back home.

I opened the door where the scouts were when I heard a rifle go off. My eyes went wide and fear washed over me. I instantly scanned my body for wounds, completely ignoring the situation happening in front of me. Finding no sign of impact, I looked up only to find Sasha falling on her back, with a bullet impact on her chest.

The world seemed to have frozen as did my body. No one was able to move. Blood was spreading around Sasha's body, staining the floor, and that's when I reacted. My body moved on its own, pulling the cloak off my shoulders and folding it to make a small pillow. My ears didn’t catch any screams or cries from my teammates, as if I was underwater and the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat accelerating, threatening to come out of my ears.

"I need a syringe with anesthesia, a pair of tweezers, a needle, a lighter, bandages and hot water, NOW !!"

No one was moving, everyone was in shock, including me, but I was layered enough to know that if we didn't do something, Sasha wasn't going to survive.

"Jean, Connie, I need surgical elementes! NOW!!"

The two boys came out of it, running around the room, even going to the continuous, looking for something that might serve, while I tore Sasha's shirt and took her equipment. Mikasa was next to me grabbing the pieces that were in the way.

"Mikasa, I need you to put pressure on the wound and don’t move your hands"

Connie came running back with the anesthesia in hand, trying to give it to me, but me failing. The syringe fell to the floor, but thanks to whatever deity was watching us it didn't break. My hands were shaking with adrenaline, making it impossible for me to inject the needle into the glass vial.

“Sasha… I need you to stay awake, ok? I need you to keep your eyes open at all time"

The dying girl in front of me didn't give me an answer, but I knew she heard me. In the background, I could hear the desperate cries of the others, apart from the fact that someone had hit the culprit in the face. I injected the anesthesia and proceeded to remove the bullet from the lung. Mikasa reapplied pressure with wet cloths.

"Sasha everything will be fine, I assure you, everything will be fine, so don't you dare die on me, okay?"

I couldn't tell who I was addressing those words to, the girl who gave us the best laughs in our training days, or me.

Lighter in hand I proceeded to cauterize the wound, but my eyes fell on Sasha's, noticing how the life had left her eyes. The light that was so bright in her pupils had faded, leaving nothing more than an empty countenance.

"Sasha?...Sasha? hey, this isn’t funny, Sasha wake up…Sasha?? SASHA?!!?!" ...

"SASHA!!!"

Again.

Again I’d been unable to do anything.

Again I’d to see how I was unable to save someone.

Again.

I had seen a mate die. Again.

My chest contracted, the air was impossible to get in or out and my lungs cried out to explode. My stomach wanted to regurgitate, but there was nothing in it, causing me to spasm. My vocal cords were damaged from screaming and my head was about to collapse.

My whole body was about to collapse.

"How dare you!? You son of a bitch, how dare you to shoot the person who forgave your life?"

My anger was now directed at the child they had wanted to bring with us. It was impossible for me to look at her without having the desire to break her face, to make her suffer ... to kill her. To take revenge for Sasha.

“SHE FORGAVE YOUR LIFE BY NOT GIVING YOU A SHOT IN THE HEAD AND IS THAT HOW YOU PAY HER? YOU HATE US SO MUCH? HOW MANY MORE LIVES DO YOU WANT TO TAKE FOR US TO BE SATISFIED?"

My legs got up, leading me towards the girl, but arms held me from behind, preventing me from continue walking, preventing me from taking revenge.

"HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU? YOU ARE THE REAL DEVILS"

In the end, my body collapsed, completely loosening and causing me to almost slide down Connie's arms. I fell to my knees when he released me, snuggling up and hiding my head in my arms. Tears flowed like waterfalls with no intention of stopping and my screams reverberated across the metal in the room.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Connie opened the door where our commanders were still arguing. Both with tears in our eyes gave the worst news of the night.

"Sasha died"

Jean and Hange's faces were disfigured and Levi hid his grim outline from us. The room was silent, but all that could be heard were my sobs, spasm after spasm.

"She had a ... a bullet impact ... in ... in the chest ..."

It was difficult, almost impossible, for me to relate the precarious medical report of our friend's death, trying to help me with the movement of my hands ... but even so the spasms won me over. I fell back to the floor, tears invaded my face once more and my ability to articulate words was gone down the drain.

Hange approached with a slow step and placed their hands on my shoulders, giving me the help I needed to give the report. I took several minutes of deep breaths and when my lungs returned to normal, I spoke again.

"Sasha had a bullet impact on the chest, on the left lung ... There was no exit, so the bullet was stuck in there...it pierced two ribs, tearing the skin of the lung and causing internal bleeding... I managd to remove the bullet, but I didn't have time to cauterize and sew the wound ... she bled to death"

Every pause I took to breathe made it so much worse for me to speak back. If it weren't for the fact I was undoubtedly taking deep breaths, I would have passed out from distress and hyperventilation.

"I could have saved her ... I know I could have saved her"

Silence reigned over the room, sobs from Hange and Connie could be heard if we were paying close attention. Jean and Levi glared at Eren, who had not deigned to lift his head at any time.

I got up as best I could, running Hange's hands gently, and left the room once again. I needed to be alone for a while, I needed to let go of these horrible feelings, I needed some air, otherwise I doubted I’d do anything rational in the state I was in.

My legs led me to a room away from all the common ones. It was empty, but it had a couple of windows that chilled the already cold metal walls. Some windows were at my height, allowing me to appreciate the view from the air, but let's face it, it was impossible to appreciate the landscape when your mind and heart were breaking to pieces. The only thing that kept my mind intact from any collapse was the path of smoke and fire that could be seen in the distance... signs that Marley was still on fire.

"Are you ok?"

That familiar voice, all too familiar, echoed in my ears pulling me out of my entrance. Eren had entered the room quietly with the aim of… what? See if it was okay? Because I really wasn't, it showed on my face and that's what made me even more angry than I was.

"Oh, I don't know? Am I ok? Do I FUCKING LOOK OK TO YOU?"

I turned from the window too quickly causing me to stagger and fall to the floor. My head was spinning and starting to ache as was every muscle in my body. I put my hands to my head, hoping the pain would dissipate a bit, but the only thing I managed was to sink further into misery.

"I could have saved her ... if I’d been faster ... I know I could have saved her"

He hadn't moved from where he was, he just stayed there, looking at me. My blood-soaked eyes looked him up and down searching for something, whatever, to speak of, but all I found were non-glare eyes and a neutral gaze, as if he hadn't cared how many lives this mission had claimed.

"Do you want to know how I feel? Fine, I’ll tell you"

I stood up heavily, my muscles begging for a break. I turned my head to see the black smoke rising on the horizon, still clearly noticing an orange and red flare.

“I am tired…I am full of rage and hate. I saw our comrades die and I couldn't do anything, I was unable to save them ... to save Sasha...and all because of not having been informed like everyone else"

My eyes hadn't left the window because I knew, if I looked into those dull turquoise eyes, those same eyes that once shone with all the innocence and life that a young man could have, I would end up punching him.

"Are you happy? Did you accomplished your mission now that you have the power of the warhammer titan? What will be the next step? Go back to Marley in a few months, finish what you started and devour the jaw titan and Reiner? Assassinate the cart titan?”

Again, I got no response. My patience had already reached it’s limit and I looked back at the man who was now standing in the middle of the room.

"You're not going to tell me, are you? No, you never say anything to me, it's like I'm a burden to you" I shuffled on the metal, standing right in front of him "I'm with so much anger in my veins that I want to kill a child, a child Eren! ... A child who had her head washed all her life, a child who doesn’t know the whole truth and who only knows that by killing she can be free"

Unconsciously, my body moved everywhere, as if it wanted to release all the pressure by tiring the muscles. I stood back in front of the window and with all the accumulated anger I gave it a strong blow, slightly scratching the glass and probably breaking some knuckles.

"Sasha died because of my incompetence and the violence of this world...I want to save lives Eren, that's why I'm practicing medicine...I want to dedicate myself to saving souls, not killing them...and we have the culprit stuck in one of our rooms...why?" ...

“WHY DO WE HAVE TWO CHILDS ON OUR AIRPLANE? WHY IS YOUR BROTHER WITH US? WHY DON'T YOU LET ME KNOW WHAT IS GOING THROUGH YOUR HEAD?"

I was sure that my screams could be heard by our entire war machine. I was impatient for answers, but knew I wasn't going to get any, at least not now. My hands didn’t remain calm, they moved everywhere, a sign of my anxiety and my eyes turned around the entire room, looking at each screw, each metal beam... everything except the eyes of my supposed lover.

I was giving up, now I just wanted to rest and have a trip home in peace, even knowing that home was not going to sound the same or feel the same.

"If you have nothing to say Eren, you better leave"

I turned my back on him but didn't proceed to walk away from him. I needed to find an anchor point so as not to give up and throw myself into the arms that one day gave me warmth, the arms that wrapped me in the dark, the arms that reflected their love and affection ... into the arms that now wouldn't hold me from the waist or draw me to his chest. I wasn't going to throw me into some arms that weren't going to contain me.

I heard him take a few small steps towards me and his hand rested lightly on my shoulder. I put it aside abruptly and I distanced myself towards the remote window, seeing how little by little the smoke was getting smaller and I could no longer see the orange flame clearly; now I could only see a thin yellow line fading.

"Leave Eren"

His footsteps rumbled on the metal floor, leaving me alone once and for all.

The trip back was going to be a long one and, to be honest, I wasn't sure if there was anything for me in our home. Nothing was going to be the same anymore. Without Sasha, without Eren and with a war on our feet I doubted to even call “home” a piece of wet land in the middle of an ocean which is still the target of a world full of hate.

#aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #sasha blouse #angst #eren smut

303 notes · View notes

dolls-and-cats · 3 years

Text

Brownie Camera DIY

Inspired by @benbunny 's Brownie cameras for Kit and KC, I set out to make a 1940s Brownie for Molly McIntire. Hat tip also for @kirstenlarsonwi for sending me pics of your grandparents' 1941 camera. Thank you both so much!!!

Here's some first pics...

Bigote the Cat volunteered to be the subject of her photo...(with Ninja Cat checking things out at the window...)

I made Molly's camera by finding a 6-sided box and covering one side in black duct tape. I initially wanted the camera to be collapsible for storage, so i glued velcro to the overlapping folds on the short ends, but that is not holding very well, so I will likely just glue the ends shut.

I made a handle for the camera out of folded duct tape. For the flash and bulb on the front, I glued two bobbins and a silver colored lid with a black half-marble inside. (I wanted to glue a written label from the picture of @kirstenlarsonwi 's actual camera, which would have been cool, but was having printer issues).

I have belatedly realized that the bobbins/flash bulbs should both be on top, by the handle, like two eyes above a mouth. I re-glued those after I took these pics.

For the view-finder on the back, I glued a sewing machine part I didn't need.

On the side, I glued some random things that were at hand...an unidentified object from my toolbox and an upside-down contact container.

It was fun!! I love it when the super-neat and seemingly-unfindable doll accessories can be made in an hour or two with things at hand.

#doll crafts #molly mcintire #brownie camera

29 notes · View notes

vixsims · 4 years

Photo

Summer Camp Lot (NoCC)

↪ [ view full album of pics / floor plans of each cabin here ]

🔴 Edit 9/2023: please use clean installer if you download this build.

as stated below, this was made during a time when i was unable to use programs to check if all CC was cleared. As a result the lot was actually packaged with many CC things I happened to miss (mostly object recolors, i think). i won’t be updating these files so if you download know there likely will be CC and this must be removed with Clean Installer to make it truly CC-free.

----

So the other day I shared a pic of a recently completed WIP which was a Summer Camp lot and @adrift-in-andromeda asked if I would share it. The original lot is super CC-heavy and I’ve always been wary of sharing very CC-filled lots but they mainly wanted the buildings themselves so I decided I’d share a CC-free version that’s mostly the shells of the buildings.

The lot should be CC-free but as I explain below the cut I don’t currently have access to SimPE/Clean Installer to check so it’s possible some CC slipped through, so please use Clean Installer and make sure you’re not getting any unwanted CC. Also just FYI, I have default replacements for some floors/walls/plants so some things might look different in your game than what’s pictured. This is also my first time sharing a lot like this so please let me know if there’s any issues.

I didn’t do much decorating, just some minimal landscaping. The interiors for four of the buildings are pretty much empty but the cabin with blue shutters is the “art cabin” so I left some easels, pottery wheels, and a sewing machine. But I figure everyone would want to decorate to their own tastes so I’ve left most of that up to you!

If you want to see the original lot at how I decorated it / floor plans you can check out some pics here and here.

More info and Download link under the cut!

A few disclaimers:

This lot is quite big (50x50) so beware of potential lag depending on your system. This version shouldn’t be too bad since it’s cc-free but just a heads up. You can see an overhead shot of the full lot below.

I have the Ultimate Collection so that means you’ll need all Eps/Sps.

I also have the lovely Super Duper Hug Bug. If you don’t know what it is, it’s basically a bug that makes your sims constantly hug each other. It’s a fairly common bug and besides being very annoying its not actually harmful to your game. However, if you don’t already have BoilingOil’s No Sim Loaded you’ll want to get it as it prevents the bug from showing up in your game or suppresses it if you already have it.

The lake is swimmable but you’ll probably want to replace the floor tiles with an invisible one like this one.

Lastly, due to an issue with Windows 10 on my PC, I am unable to run programs that require NET Framework, which means no Clean Installer, no SimPE, no Compressiorizor, etc. I’ve done my best to remove all CC from the lot but it’s always possible I missed some things so PLEASE use Clean Installer and BACK UP YOUR GAME before installing.

DOWNLOAD (mediafire)

#sims 2 download #sims 2 lot #sims 2 cc free #sims 2 residential lot #sims 2 build #sims 2 exteriors #long post #private post

139 notes · View notes

bomberqueen17 · 3 years

Text

vacation in place

I’m just. I’m gonna vacation-in-place this weekend.

I’m just going to pretend that I’ve left town. I drove for a number of hours, and spent a while unpacking, and now I’m in this charming little house, which we’ll pretend is in the middle of a nice forest or something; let’s imagine a nice view, instead of the back of the bleachers of the high school across the street. Yeah, it’s a snowy woods. In fact, it’s super snowy out, and the snow is too deep for me to go out in, so I’m just going to stay inside.

And it’s so nice in this little cabin. I’ve unpacked, and somehow I managed to bring all of my things, every one of my possessions, even the untidy mess that’s the whole corner of my living room. Shh, we won’t worry about that, and we’ll focus on the fact that I have all my things with me, including my sewing machines and my spinning wheel and my banjo, all these heavy clunky things I never would pack all of.

Oh, and my whole liquor cabinet-- that’s all here, too. Which is great. And my glassware. Good.

Anyway. Don’t get sidetracked; I’m in this nice cozy cabin with an imaginary view. And my cat is here, and my Dude, of course-- he comes on vacations with me anyway, but she doesn’t, so it’s nice that she’s here. She hates to travel so she’d enjoy this imaginary version more anyway.

(Maybe we should get in the car and drive around for a while, and look out the window? For versimilitude? IDK)

Oh hm my washing machine is here, and all my dirty laundry, so, well-- I’ll probably take care of that, because I’ll be sad come Monday if I have all this laundry to do. Well, that’s fine. Oh, I’ll change the sheets on the bed, that will help my own comfortable bed still feel like it’s somewhere else, somewhere special. And then of course I’ll have to do more laundry. But apart from that--

yes, let’s pretend. I’ll pretend I’m on vacation. I’m somewhere else. I’m someone else, the way everyone is slightly someone else when they’re on vacation-- someone who’s not worried about doing The Most all the time-- an A/U version of yourself who’s allowed to just sigh and swan about being Relaxed, and such.

Yes. it’s like that time we rented a cabin in the Adirondacks, and we hung out and read books and cooked surprisingly (not surprisingly, we’re good cooks) lovely meals in the tiny kitchen, and gazed at the view and went hiking and canoeing, only it’s so snowy we couldn’t possibly go hiking or canoeing, and the view’s imaginary so-- whatever. Whatever!

*sobs gently* it’s fine. it’s fine! It’s fine, we’re on vacation. It’s vacation. It’s imaginary vacation.

#it is Getting To Me my dudes #i just cried at a cat video #we're okay #it's okay #we're all okay #that quarantine life

50 notes · View notes

heavenseed76 · 3 years

Text

Arco Iris

Summary: Everyone in the Andromeda Galaxy viewed the world in shades of grey. Until they met their soulmate. The Mandalorian's quest completed, he is without purpose. Finding his soulmate might be the push he needs or it might just be another thing to run away from.

Rating: PG13 (for now)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence

A/N: This is not a new idea, for sure, but one I've never explored before. There will be much angst, and rating will go up as it goes along. Slow burn.

Chapter 1: Aimless

Aimless. That was the word that came to mind when Din Djarin sought to define how he felt. Aimless. No covert to provide for. No desire to fulfill his appointed destiny as ruler of Mandalore. No real drive to find a new ship and return to bounty hunting. All of those things would require effort on his part. He had the means to buy whatever ship he wanted. He had a lucrative job with Boba on Tatooine if he chose. He could be king of a whole fucking planet; the key to Mandalore lay at the bottom of a trunk in Cara Dune’s spare room. None of it mattered. Whenever he thought of doing any of these things, there was a hole there, it’s shape distinct and fathomless. Finding the rest of his people felt like the most viable option. He’d found the kid’s people, now he should find his. But that would require effort. Effort to forget, effort to step past that gaping hole that sought to swallow him. A swirling, sucking black hole, it was, seeking to pull him in and in and in until it crushed him. He hovered outside its gravity, not caring if he tipped over the edge, though not bothering to leap in either. Aimless.

That’s where he found himself, roaming the streets of Nevarro, an hour to kill before he had to pick up a cart of supplies for the magistrate from the landing pad outside the town. The day was bright and clear, cloudless as far as the eye could see. The market was just opening, fresh faces setting up for the day, smiling and calling out greetings to one another as they placed tables and baskets on the packed clay earth. They paid him no mind; he was a familiar sight these days, the Mandalorian from Nevarro. He was neither feared nor hated. He just was.

His feet had taken him to a familiar market stall, where an old man was being sat down in a rickety chair just outside his dwelling. A young woman in light grey robes easing the aged figure into the seat with practiced and loving hands. The man held a staff, it’s top third wrapped in leather, his face a rictus of pain, deepening the sulci of his wrinkled and time-work skin. Din came to stand in front of the man, casting a long shadow over him. The man smiled warmly and held out a withered hand.

“Mando! To what do I owe the pleasure! It’s been a long time my son!”

“Ezekiel. It has been awhile. I’ve been away on business.” Din offered, taking the man’s hand in both of his.

The woman who had helped Ezekiel to sit was raising the dwelling’s awning behind him, providing more shade.

“Business, of course. I received that Krayt skin you sent from Tatooine. Gorgeous, just beautiful! Now perhaps you’ll tell me the real story.” Ezekiel leaned in to Din with a conspiratorial edge to his voice. His milky, blind eyes crinkled with mirth.

Din’s shoulders shook with a snicker that didn’t quite make it through the vocoder in his helmet. “My message told the whole story Zeke. Killed it from the inside out, I swear!” Din patted the old man’s hand affectionately.

Ezekiel snatched his hand away, affronted. “Now you can’t lie to old Ezekiel!” He pointed an accusing finger at Din. “And if that’s the story, there’s no way I’m letting you give me this treasure. It ain’t every day a man gets swallowed by a Krayt Dragon and lives to tell the tale, now.” Ezekiel sat back in his chair. “Now, what can I do you for, Mando?”

Din smiled beneath the helmet, but outwardly he just shook his head in amusement. Ezekiel was likely the oldest resident of Nevarro, a leather-smith by trade who made his living by making the finest gloves, holsters, bandoliers and other leather goods outside of Naboo. His weathered and arthritic hands were a testament to how hard he worked, refusing to resort to droids and machines to do the intricate sewing and forming and sculpting animal hides into usable items.

“I lost my ship some months ago. I need to replace my secondary gear. All I have is what I have on me.” Din said quietly.

Ezekiel shook his head in sympathy, tutting. “Ain’t that something. Sorry to hear it, son.” Ezekiel scratched under his lip. “You have a list?”

“I do.” Din pulled out a piece of flimsi. It was worn, having been folded and refolded, written on and crossed out over and over again.

Ezekiel motioned for the woman who had assisted him to sit, who was now standing by the open door to their home, watching the exchange. “Have you met my granddaughter?” Ezekiel smiled up at Mando as the woman approached, pride and affection radiating off the elderly man. “Sera, this is Mando. Mando, this is my Serafim.”

For a moment, Din couldn’t move. The woman in the light grey cloak appeared to be a void, her skin was so dark. Her hair was only slightly lighter than her skin, hanging in dreadlocks adorned with silver bands, shells and beads. Only the pouty bow of her mouth and her impossibly light grey eyes cut through the coal black of her skin. While her expression was not unkind, it was hard as she held out her hand for the list Din held.

“Hello. Serafim.” Din replied with a start. He handed the list over, letting it slip through his fingers. He watched as she took it, her own hand a dichotomy of dark and light, her palm several shades lighter than the skin of wrist and arm. The contrast of the silver cuff she wore even more stark as it glinted in the sun.

“Mando.” Serafim’s smile was thin and didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’m getting old and I’ll be moving on soon. Sera will take over here when I’m gone.” Ezekiel spoke as if he would be going on an extended vacation, rather than his impending death from old age. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Ezekiel made to rise. “I have your last order in the back. Rancor leather, pair of gloves. Been gatherin dust.”

Serafim put a hand on Ezekiel’s shoulder. “I’ll get them, Papa.” She helped Ezekiel ease back into the seat once again and disappeared into the house without a glance back to the Mandalorian.

“I’ll be sure to get on that list. Sera will be my apprentice, if that’s alright.” Ezekiel smiled.

“That will be fine.” Din agreed in his signature stoic manner.

Around Ezekiel’s stall, more of the market was coming to life, banners waving in the wind, all shades and textures advertising food, electronics, weapons and household items. Some of the higher-end shops boasted their wears with neon signs that shone even in the day, offsetting their message with brightness against the dull grey of their tinted windows, the transperisteel a darker shade to give it contrast.

“Here you are Papa.” Serafim held out a small package to Ezekiel who simply gestured to the Mandalorian.

“Well, have him try them on.” he said.

Serafim held the paper-wrapped bundle out to Din. He took it from her hand and laid it on the table between them, unwrapping it. Mid-grey leather gloves lay folded in the paper, the scent of the curing lotion wafting up and permeating the air even through the filters in his helmet. Din pulled off his own gloves and set them aside, pulling on the new gloves. He wriggled his hand in them, the leather feeling stiff. “Seems small.” He mumbled.

“They need to be worked in. Sera, help the man out.” Ezekiel instructed.

Sera huffed through her nose, displeased, but reached over the table nonetheless. Din held out his arm to her. Sera pulled off the glove and turned it almost inside out before reaching over and clasping her hand around Din’s wrist.

It was a punch to the gut that knocked the wind out of both of them. Blazing white light burst behind their eyes and then the world was flooded with color. The banners blowing in the breeze, the rich clay of the earth, Din’s orange gloves, Sera’s deep soil-dark skin and impossibly blue eyes. Sera was touching a live wire and couldn’t let go. Neon green bakery signs and red banners, purple baskets and colors neither had a name for flooded their senses until Din took a step back and Sera let go of his wrist.

Gasping for air, both Sera and Din heaved in lungfuls of precious oxygen, gripping the table between them.

“What did you do?” Din choked out.

“Color? Is this... color?” Sera asked.

Beside them, Ezekiel had taken in the brief exchange with curiosity. Now, he understood. A smile crept over his face as Din and Sera regained their equilibrium. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

#the mandalorian #the Mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x oc #mando fanfiction #7daynosmutchallenge #pedro pascal characters

6 notes · View notes

quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH91

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 91: Castle Cry (XVIII)

{cw: discussion of miscarriage}

Qi Leren's heart thumped, and the dagger in his hand swung hard at the pouncing doll. The holy runes inlaid on the dagger glowed with a milky light, and the doll flew out with a scream, but more and more dolls approached him!

"Retreat first!" Su He and his cane stuck in the door frame prevented the door from being closed, and the door was unwillingly opened with a creak. Dr. Lu, who was hiding beside Su He and him, quickly ran out of the door.

Qi Leren also stepped back. This horrible scene disturbed his mind. He didn't have time to think about anything. He only wanted to escape. When he ran to the door, he was pulled by Su He: "Don't go into the corridor, that place is too open and easy to be besieged. Just hit it from here!"

The disturbed Qi Leren came to his senses and realized that he had to solve this room full of ghost dolls.

These giggling puppets approached him in the harsh light of lightning, slow and wobbly. They sang a lullaby with a dark ecstatic tone, and from time to time let out a sharp and high-pitched strange call, which made people tremble.

They were already a group of evil spirits.

A doll bear, half the height of a person, rushed to the door. Qi Leren kicked it back with a leg, knocking over several small dolls along the way, and the noisy screams echoed in the room. Another one seemed to be hung by an invisible line, and swayed from the window to the Qi Leren's eyes. It was stabbed severely by his dagger. It fell to the ground with a strange smile and spilled a big pool of dirty blood.

"The doll screaming in the cradle just now should be the key, but it’s now hiding and can only be slowly found." Su He, like Qi Leren, kept by the door. From time to time, he hit one or two dolls that Qi Leren couldn't cope with with his cane.

"That's it, the doll held by the crazy lady in the basement." As Qi Leren spoke, he stabbed a doll to death. His eyes made of buttons gave off a strange red light in the dark, and its crooked body gave off a disgusting smell of moldy food. The dolls he dealt with had been piled on the ground as high as his knees, bleeding.

Although this group of dolls looked horrible, it wasn’t difficult to deal with them after they calmed down. Fortunately, Su He had propped the door. Otherwise, when the door was closed, the dolls running around the room could not have been prevented at all. The situation would be much more dangerous. He couldn’t say for certain that he would have been able to kill the doll the crazy lady had hugged without using a save.

When the last doll fell to the ground with a scream, Qi Leren finally breathed a sigh of relief.

It was still raining hard outside, the thunder rumbled from far to near, and the dazzling lightning lit up and went out. Qi Leren kicked the dolls all over the ground and stepped on the sticky dirty blood, and once again walked into the room.

The doll that had been lying in the cradle at first and then escaped into the doll pile screamed and ran around in panic in the room. Qi Leren circled with it like a cat and mouse, and finally blocked it in the corner. The ugly black doll croaked and cried pitifully. Qi Leren frowned and pierced its head with the dagger. The holy runes gave off a white gleam. The doll struggled twice, fell to the ground, and stopped moving.

When the dagger was pulled out, the pierced forehead spit out a pool of dirty blood, which was full of demon energy.

Qi Leren stepped on the doll with his foot, and felt that there was something obviously hard in its belly, so he squatted down and cut open its belly with the dagger. At the moment when the blade cut open the cloth, the doll suddenly came back from the dead and struggled. It was so horrible that Qi Leren suddenly stood up and kicked it.

"Mom, this copy is so malicious that it really could scare people to death," Dr. Lu murmured from where he watched outside the door.

"I’m used to playing worse," Su He said quietly.

Dr. Lu snuck a glance at him. When the doll had been cut open and screamed, Su He’s eyes didn't move. Just now, the room suddenly tried to close but was blocked by him. Su He and his anticipation and consciousness in this respect were indeed much stronger than them.

In the room, Qi Leren took a moment to steady himself before picking up the doll again. This time, the doll was at its wit's end, and there was no movement. He successfully found an iron box in its abdominal cavity.

[Obtained the Devil's Sacrifice 4/6]

Having been identified as a demon sacrifice, Qi Leren didn't bother to wrap his hand in a piece of cloth, etc., and directly opened the box. The disgusting smell of blood rushed to his nose, which made him black out for a moment and become nauseous.

"What is it?" Dr. Lu asked from far away.

"I also want to know... What the hell is this?" Qi Leren pinched his nose and looked at the box again, speaking grumpily.

In the box was a large pool of dried blood, and there seemed to be a mass of black moldy things, emitting a rotten smell, which gave off an ominous feeling.

And the phantom appeared again.

This time, the crazy lady in the illusion sat in the corner, her face blurred. She was humming a ditty softly while making a doll. From the fuzzy light and shadows, he could vaguely recognize that it was the one that Qi Leren had just cut open. She gently stuffed the iron box into the doll's belly and sewed it up with a needle and thread. The crazy lady's intermittent humming pervaded the night, and the strange tone seemed like it could be suffocated at any moment, giving the listener goosebumps.

She was obviously abnormal, and anyone who saw this scene could feel it clearly.

The needle in her hand stuck in the crazy lady's finger. She screamed bitterly, suddenly raised her head, and growled bitterly at the nothingness: "Go away! Stop pestering me! You are already dead! Dead!"

The empty darkness naturally wouldn't give her a response, but this disregard had aggravated her hysteria. She got up from her chair, waved her arms into the air, and attacked an invisible person with her teeth and nails: "Go back, go back! Go back to the grave! You’re already dead! Why did you come back?!”

The more angry she was, the more fearful she was. The invisible enemy exhausted her strength. She sat down on the ground, sobbed and climbed to the corner. She grabbed the doll she had sewed and murmured, "You are dead... I watched you die... You ate the bread with peanut butter, then twitched and died. Yes, I killed you, I killed you! Johann is mine, hahahaha, it's mine! "

The crazy lady held the doll and looked ahead emptily: "Yes, I killed you. We grew up together and felt like sisters. I was so sad, sad enough that no one knew I did it, and no one believed it. Do you resent me? So you came to me for revenge. You took my child. What else do you want to take away? Johann's love? Hahahaha, I won't let you succeed, hahahaha..."

Crazy laughter gradually dispersed in the dark, leaving the littered dolls and a bloody smell.

There was too much information revealed with this phantom. The "ghost" that the crazy lady feared should be Adeline who died many years earlier, and she killed Adeline... Qi Leren's mind became a little confused at once.

"Bread with peanut butter? Did Adeline have a severe peanut allergy? This is quite common in white people." Dr. Lu touched his chin and said, "Before, I still felt that Mrs. Mad was really suffering from madness caused by her miscarriage. Maybe she was also a spouse with ulterior motives. Now it seems that she also had a story of immorality. But doesn’t this prove that the husband didn’t love her? In fact, Adeline was Johann's true love, so the crazy lady secretly killed her?"

"Wouldn’t there be an autopsy for such an intentional murder?" Qi Leren asked.

Dr. Lu hesitated: "If you really die of allergies, it’s normal to be considered as accidental. By the way, what is in that box?"

Qi Leren handed the box to Dr. Lu. When Dr. Lu opened it, he was also disgusted: "What is this thing?"

Su He looked at the box and asked: "If you consider the meaning of the doll... what do you think?"

Qi Leren and Dr. Lu were immediately disgusted.

"You keep it safe, only two are missing." Qi Leren didn't want to touch this box at all.

"No, no, you take it. I've already taken three!" Dr Lu tried to throw the box back.

"Stop it, don't you often come into contact with this kind of thing as a doctor? Take it!"

"I'm not a gynaecologist!"

The two argued over who should take the box as Su He watched helplessly. Finally, Dr. Lu lost to Qi Leren and put the box into his inventory with a sad face.

"Now one thing is certain. The reason why the crazy lady sacrificed to the Devil should not be to pray for her to conceive a child, because she began the sacrifice after the child miscarried." Su He walked around the nursery and his spotless leather shoes stepped on the floor full of dirty blood, which made people feel a little distressed. "But there are still many problems.

"It can be seen that the crazy lady had been fearful after killing Adeline. Johann wrote in his diary that she called Adeline's name in her sleep, but at that time Johann only thought that they were deeply affectionate, and he seemed to have special feelings for Adeline. First of all, who is Adeline?"

Dr. Lu smacked his lips: "Anyway, she's definitely not a sister, otherwise it wouldn't be ‘like a sister’, so she should be a friend or relative."

"Aside from the question of Adeline, there is also a problem with the crazy lady's pregnancy. Johann's letter said that he had always given her contraceptives, but the crazy lady still became pregnant. Was this just an accident?" Su He threw out another question.

"Hey... But from a medical point of view, even if you take medicine and use a condom, you can't ensure contraception 100%," Dr. Lu said academically.

Su He nodded: "Speaking of this, I have to ask, what contraceptives were there in this era?"

Dr. Lu paused. "Let me think about it. The earliest contraceptive in my impression was probably invented in the 1940s. Before that, the contraceptive methods... Well, the original condoms made from things such as sheep intestines were a kind, otherwise it could only be calculated by the physical cycle, and abortion was simpler and more crude such as with a stick. A specific contraceptive seems to have been absent."

Qi Leren considered the place where the story happened and put forward a new view: "If the story happened in China, there should be some contraceptive methods handed down from ancient times."

Speaking of this, Dr. Lu excitedly gave him popular science: "If you’re talking about the cheats of contraception and abortion in popular TV series, musk will be contraceptive when you smell it, and a bowl of safflower will be used for abortions. I can tell you responsibly that this is basically metaphysics. It only applies to the logic system that is self-contained in the story of the show. Just like the thousand-year-old ginseng of Tianshan Snow Lotus in martial arts novels, you’ll lose if you believe it."

"...You know quite a lot," Qi Leren was dumbfounded.

"I do," Dr. Lu said proudly.

Su He looked at them with a smile and waited until they finished talking. "In fact, there is another person whom I have long felt suspicion towards."

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

35 notes · View notes

sincerelymarinette · 4 years

Text

Life Swap - Adrien Agreste x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Words: 2215 Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is the heiress to her father's fashion house, Dupain Designs. With her talented assistant, the baker's son, Adrien Agreste by her side, will they come up with the right ideas and be able to meet their deadline? Author's Note: ahhhh i love this so much. It was so much fun to write! I got inspiration from @chocoluckchipz on Tumblr with their beautiful life swap art for adrienette April! They are aged up a bit in this and it still has superheroes but PRE REVEAL. Gabriel or Tom is not Hawkmoth. I love life swaps/reverse crush sm. I kinda have an idea for a part 2 but idk I wanna see how this goes :) let me know if you want to see a part two!

---

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Adrien mumbled to himself as he rushed through the busy streets of Paris, trying to contain his bag and the few coffees he was carrying. He was almost late for work, which he was unsure how he still had a job from his constant shenanigans (possibly caused by a slight crush), but he was still thankful he had his job.

"Marinette!" Adrien huffed when he reached the Dupain Designs office, more specifically, the head designer and heiress. "I'm so sorry. I got stuck at the coffee shop and-"

Marinette shook her head with a small smile. "Adrien, careful! Are you alright?"

"I'm coffee- coffee's fine," He stammered out. "I mean, I'm fine. Here's your coffee," He said and handed it to her as she set her files down on her desk. Once he smoothed out his shirt with his free hand, he took a deep break. "Sorry about that. Can I grab you anything else right now?"

"Thank you," Marinette smiled. "But yes, my scanner is still broken, and I was up all night working on these. Can you go to the copy room and scan them to my email really quickly? Once you get back, we can go look at fabrics, and I can start a mock-up for the designs," Marinette explained and handed Adrien the files.

"Right away!" He said, his face still a bit red, and practically ran out of the room with the files. Marinette only smiled as she watched him stumble away, then went to sit behind her desk.

"I'm surprised you haven't fired him yet," Plagg flew out from his hiding spot.

"Plagg!" Marinette whispered-screamed. "My office is all glass, people could see you!"

Plagg crossed his arms. "Kid, they're all too afraid of you to even look your way. You are kind of in charge around here."

She laughed. "That's my dad."

"Yeah, but you're the heiress to the company and basically the world's biggest designer in the fashion industry right now," Plagg reasoned. "Now, explain to me why you haven't fired Mr. Spill Your Late Coffee?"

"That's a long nickname," Marinette commented and typed her password into her computer. "I don't know; I like him. He makes me laugh, and I like having an assistant my age. Most times they're either older and think they know more than me, or too young and don't want to do anything. Adrien may be a bit late and clumsy, but he's talented, and I like him," She explained. "Oh! And plus, his dad owns a bakery, so he brings me cookies sometimes. That's always nice."

Plagg stared at her for a second. "Do you like him?" He asked.

Marinette shook her head. "Just as a friend. You know I'm in love with Mister Bug."

"Blah blah blah, you humans and your love," He complained. "All I love is cheese."

"I know," Marinette sighed. "If only it were that easy for me."

In the copy room, Adrien was trying to pull himself together. "Why do I have to be such a fool?" He groaned.

"You're not a fool, Adrien," Tikki reminded him as she flew out of his pocket.

"I'm sure Marinette thinks so," He said.

"If Marinette thought that, you wouldn't be working with her. You've had this job for, what, almost a year now? If she didn't like you and your clumsiness, she wouldn't keep you around," Tikki reasoned with the boy.

Adrien sighed and grabbed the papers out of the scanner, waiting for confirmation. "I guess you have a point. "Maybe if I weren't so stupid around her, things would be easier. I can barely get out two words without stuttering."

Tikki flew in front of Adrien, ensuring she had his attention. "It's just because you like her. I doubt she even notices," She said. "Now, hurry up and grab the rest of the papers and head back to her office so you can go help her with fabrics."

Adrien did what Tikki said and hurried back to Marinette's office. As soon as he set the files down, Marinette grabbed her laptop, and the two of them headed to the fabric room on the other side of the building. Lining the walls were pictures from Marinette's modeling days from her childhood all the way through high school. Modeling all ended when she expressed her interest (and talent) in design, and practically blew up overnight when she was announced as the new head designer a few years ago. But that didn't mean her father would ever let her forget how successful she was in modeling, and those pictures would be there forever.

When they got into the fabric room, Marinette hooked her laptop up to the screen on the wall so they could view the sketches to their fullest potential. "I'm thinking of light pink silk for the one on the left, but it could also work with a pattern. What do you think, Adrien?" Marinette asked as she held the two fabrics in front of her. "The silk makes it more like loungewear, but the pattern makes it more office-appropriate."

Adrien stared at her, lost in thought for a minute. "Adrien?" Marinette repeated. "What do you think?"

Since Adrien wasn't getting the message through to his head, he was brought back to reality when Tikki hit his chest from his shirt pocket. "Oh! Uh, I think you could both do- I mean do both, actually. Use the silk on the inside, and the pattern for the outside," Adrien explained. "It could be reversible if you find a matching pattern, or just use it way one- one way," Adrien continued to correct himself. He was usually nervous around Marinette, but it was even worse when she was asking his opinion. He loves fashion, and it can take his mind off most things, but when it comes to Marinette...it's all a gamble.

"Do both? As a reversible jacket?" Marinette raised her eyebrows and looked at the sketch on the wall. A few moments of silence passed before she opened her mouth again. "That is an excellent idea. This could totally work for both professional and casual, and by mixing the different types of fabric, it won't be too heavy, or too light," Marinette smiled wide and turned back to Adrien. "You always have such great ideas! Now, I know I want to use this pink, so let's find a pattern that goes well with it."

---

It was dark out; most people already in bed. Marinette let Adrien go home hours ago, and her parents ducked out for a date night. Marinette, however, was still behind her sewing machine working on perfecting her jacket design and figuring out the best way to make it reversible. It wouldn't be perfect the first time, but she was going to try her hardest.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Plagg remarked from a shelf with a piece of Camembert in his hands.

"Yes," Marinette said, leaning back in her chair to give her back a break. "This could do so well, especially with the business line I'm working on. Go from business to casual in one easy swoop, Adrien really has some good ideas," She complimented. "See, I told you there's a good reason to keep him around."

"You do know what time it is, right?" Plagg asked and pointed to the window.

Marinette shrugged as she looked out. "Yeah, but, I have deadlines."

"Don't you make the deadlines?"

"And what kind of boss would I be if I didn't meet my own deadlines? I want my designers to meet them, it will be a bad example if I don't meet them," Marinette explained, followed by a yawn.

Plagg set the piece of cheese down and flew over to Marinette, blocking her sight to the sewing machine. "Kid, you've had a long day. The machine will still be here tomorrow. You need to get something to eat; all you had for dinner was an apple. Go pick up some food and go home," Plagg tried to persuade the stubborn Marinette. "Get a good night's sleep and ask Adrien to bring some treats tomorrow so both of you can work all day to meet your deadline," Plagg said. Most times, he was sarcastic and annoying, but he really did care about Marinette. Between her crazy designer job and having to save Paris from supervillains, she needed all the rest she could get at night.

Marinette took a deep breath and stood up from behind the machine. She ripped out a piece of paper and left a note: Marinette's. DO NOT TOUCH. It was one way to get a point across in case anyone happened to make it there before her.

After she turned off all the lights and collected her things, she went out of the back exit so she could grab some quick food from a random shop open nearby, then head back to her car right afterward. She wasn't worried that it was late; she could defend herself if anything were to happen.

Once she got her food, she took a slow walk back to her car. Though it was dark, it wasn't very cold, and she was enjoying the fresh air and the quiet streets. The moon was bright and let off just enough light, but the side effect of Plagg did leave her with pretty good sight in the night.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng?" She heard a voice from behind her, then a loud thump on the ground. "What are you doing out so late? Are you okay?"

Marinette turned around, not sure who to expect. Once she saw Mister Bug, she relaxed and mentally told Plagg to stand down. "Oh, Mister Bug, to what do I owe the honor?" She asked, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. Thank god it was dark, he wouldn't be able to see.

"I was doing a late-night survey and saw you walking. It's late and wanted you on check- I mean, wanted to check on you!" He said quickly. "Are you okay?"

Marinette shook her head with a laugh. "I'm fine, just a long day and late night in the studio. Deadlines," She shrugged,

"Oh! Well-well that's good. Can I walk your car back to you?" He asked. "Agh! Can I walk you back to your car?" Mister Bug corrected himself.

Marinette tucked the few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "I would love that, actually," She said. "No bad guys you have to take care of, right?"

"Not that I spotted. But trouble seems to lurk around you," Mister Bug said as they started walking. "I mean! Because you're such a big name, you've had a few run-ins..." He cringed.

Nodding, Marinette thought. "Yeah, a few times, I guess. Normally it's at releases, or if someone spots me at a store because either my clothes are expensive or they didn't like what I created. But I can hold my own," She smirked.

"Oh, oh, I'm sure of it! I didn't mean to-"

"I'm just messing with you," She cleared up. The walk from the store to her car wasn't very long, and Mister Bug interrupted when she was already halfway back, so the walk didn't last forever. "Thank you for checking on me; you really are a great hero of Paris," She said. "I hope I'll see you around," Marinette smiled and got in her car, waving before she drove away.

Plagg flew out from his spot in Marinette's purse. "Bleh!" He pretended to puke. "You're so gross, Marinette! Both of you are!"

"Plagg, I'm only going to do it more because it annoys you so much," She joked. "Besides, you have nothing to worry about. I don't think Mister Bug particularly cares for Lady Noire so much," She sighed. "Let's just get home and end the night."

As soon as Marinette drove away, Mister Bug flew off in the opposite direction near his apartment. As soon as he landed on his bed, he transformed. "Tikki, spots off!" He squealed. "Ahh, I walked Marinette to her car! And I think I held myself together pretty well."

"Aw, Adrien, I'm proud of you," Tikki said. "Now only if you could do it at work, too!"

Adrien glared at Tikki, jokingly. "I'm trying, it's hard. She's so sweet," He admired, putting his face into a pillow. "When we get married, do you think she'll want a hamster?"

"Adrien, I think you're thinking too far into the future," Tikki giggled.

"You're right! We should get one before we get married!" He celebrated, but was cut off by his phone going off. "Oh my gosh, it's Marinette."

Marinette Dupain-Cheng: Hey Adrien, great work today. We've got a busy day tomorrow. Any chance you can bring some pastries from your dad's bakery? (Plus the coffee I like- we'll need it) I'll pay for everything.

Adrien Agreste: Hey Marinette! Of course, I'm sure my dad would spare some. He likes you, he won't make you pay. I'll be sure to bring extra coffee for the extra-long day!

"See Plagg, another reason to keep him around," Marinette said and set her phone down to start digging into dinner.

"Tikki, tomorrow is going to be awesome," Adrien said. "I have to be on time!"

#mlb #ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #adrien agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien x marinette #adrien agreste x marinette dupain-cheng #adrienette #adrinette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #life swap #au #lilly writes

109 notes · View notes

mnthpprt · 4 years

Text

Chapter 14: Modern Musings And Old Temptations

[I apologize for not uploading in a few days. As lockdown starts easing up, daily life has become more busy for me. I still intend to at least try writing a chapter a day, and you all are welcome to send me what you would like to see in the story as well as other kinds of posts like headcanons and such.]

I patiently wait outside le Comte’s door until he is done talking to whoever is inside. Judging by the husky voice I hear alongside his own, smooth and melodic, it must be Leonardo.

Turns out I was right. He finally steps out of the room and closes the door behind him before glancing at me.

“You look good, cara mia,” he compliments me. I thank him with a quiet “grazie” and a shy half smile before he walks away, hands in his pockets.

I knock on the door and le Comte invites me in, but instead, I just open it enough for me to poke my head inside.

“Morning, Comte,” I greet him. “How bad would it be if I turned one of the dresses you gave me into a pantsuit?” He tilts his head and gives me a confused smile.

“I would not take issue with it, but you’d surely get some looks around town. Why do you ask?”

“Well...” I finally walk in, revealing my new outfit. “Surprise! It’s so pretty I wanted to be able to wear it without destroying it with my clumsiness, especially after the little accident I had with the ladder in the library.”

After leaving Isaac’s room, I went to ask Sebastian for some pins, thread, and an old bed sheet. Sadly, he did not have one, so I spent all of yesterday evening and part of the night doing my best to sew without a pattern. The aim was originally to shorten the skirt, but I ended up separating it from the bodice entirely and turning them both into a sort of top and a pair of wide legged trousers, respectively. There was enough fabric left for me to make some matching shorts out of it, which I wont’ be able to wear much but are good for skating. I also shortened my chemise and made a simple bra out of the bottom part, so I have something to wear when I don’t feel like putting on a corset.

“That’s not too bad,” le Comte laughs. “You look beautiful, ma chérie.” I giggle and twirl around to give him a better view. “ How did you alter it so quickly? From what I can tell, you’ve been busy.”

“Isaac gave me a sewing machine,” I explain. “That’s another thing I wanted to mention. We talked. I think he’ll finally stop avoiding me now,” I say with a smile. He returns it.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He gestures for me to take a seat across from his desk, and I oblige. “The reason I called you here, Anaïs, is that Sebastian will be going into town today to do some shopping. I was wondering if you would want to accompany him.”

“Count me in,” I declare. The only reason I haven’t ventured into 19th century Paris on my own yet is that I don’t know the customs. Getting in trouble over my lack of etiquette is not exactly on my time travel checklist.

“Wonderful. The coach is already waiting outside,” he says. “Have fun, ma chérie.”

Soon after that, I am stepping off the carriage and onto the cobbled street of the city, Sebastian close behind me. I can’t help but look around in amazement at just how new everything looks; this is the same area I frequented no more than a few days ago, the buildings in which were then charmingly run down, if not haphazardly renovated to fit a more modern industrial aesthetic. However, in this very moment, the stone façades are still free of pollution and graffiti, each brick perfectly shaped, blissfully unaware or the erosion that will eventually blunt their edges.

I feel Sebastian tug me along gently, but I am too captivated by the sight before me to properly process his amused expression. I recognize my favorite bar, only it is not a bar, but a book shop. The book shop I recently took refuge in when it rained has become a café, and the café where I had bought a croissant to eat on the go is now a tailor’s shop. Even the quaint little boutique with the nice sweater I didn’t have enough cash to buy has changed, the window display now gone and replaced with a front door to what I presume is somebody’s home.

The rational part of me is conflicted. On the one hand, I have been, for two days now, well aware of the fact that I have really traveled back in time, so this change in the city should not surprise me in the slightest. On the other hand, I also know myself, and I should not have been expected to just accept that so easily. The past few days have been completely insane, to say the least. Time travel is real! Vampires are real! Nothing makes sense!

Nothing makes sense. I latch onto that mantra like a lifeline. Nothing makes sense, but I would be lying to myself if I denied I have been enjoying it. A fresh start, with no expectations and a whole lot of time. The slow pace of this life I am only dipping my toes into contrasts so violently against my usual routine that the shock almost feels good. I quietly mouth to myself that I am effectively trapped here for a month, still unsure of whether I want this surreal fever dream to be over or to lay back and enjoy it while it lasts. Regardless, that knowledge tastes bittersweet on my tongue. I feel helpless, yet this beautiful cage offers a much needed holiday from my - uncomfortable at best, painful at worst - existence in the modern world.

This train of thought inevitably leads me to what Arthur said back in the thermae. The bite of a vampire comes with immense pleasure, he’d told me. I knew then it was merely his attempt at seduction, but the more I think about it the more sense it makes. The brief pain of helplessness and fear and frustration, followed by the promise of something beautiful: a world where the impossible is fact, where I could live and breathe, rather than just survive, barely able to gasp for air. And all for the complicated price of leaving behind everything I ever knew, my friends, my loved ones, the very blood of my blood. Is it a bad deal at all? Am I selfish for entertaining the thought of putting my own safety at risk in exchange for some peace and quiet among the voices in my head that never seem to shut up?

“Anaïs,” Sebastian waves a hand over my face, bringing me back to reality. “We’re here. Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry. Got distracted.” Though it might be a bad excuse, there is no lie in that statement. He looks concerned, but I wave him off with a smile. “What are we buying?” He frowns, unconvinced, but moves on to answer.

“I know the sellers at the farmer’s market well enough to get some discounts, so I want to go there for cooking ingredients and some toiletries. We’re also low on coffee. I was thinking you could go get it on your own, that way you can also explore the city to your heart’s content,” he says. “You know, as a thank you for your help. Consider it a break from work.”

He gives me a friendly smile as he slides some money into my hand, and I thank him by briefly holding his own. Right now, he might be the closest thing I have to a friend. If only he weren’t so busy...

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire comte #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire sebastian #ikevamp sebastian

21 notes · View notes

genvieve-of-the-wood · 4 years

Text

A Letter to My Mom in a Year of Outward and Inward Change * *TW - death, dying of loved one

Dear Mom,

First, and most importantly, I love you. We are taught to give our love at the end of a letter, to sign off with our affections, but I wanted to greet you with mine, since I cannot give you a hug or a kiss anymore. And affection now is something many of us savor these days.

You always had good timing. I remember watching you dance when I was younger and teaching my younger brother how to dance with his prom date. Your timing to leave us last August meant you are missing out on a pandemic. I cannot imagine how you would have coped, since you had lupus and struggled with the disease for 30 plus years. You were homebound the last few years, often sewing, crafting and making candy and watching all the science fiction television along with your other guilty pleasure viewing you loved. You hated watching the news, understandably. You were already living in quarantine, long before we had Covid-19.

There are people here, Mom, who have never seen, heard or experienced a loved one being put on a ventilator. The virus we are now trying to avoid can cause shortness of breath, damage to the lungs, etc. The last thing I truly think you heard me say consciously was, “I love you, I will see you later.” It was right after the nurse had placed an oxygen mask on you so you could answer questions and breathe. When I first got the call from Dad, my neck prickled and my heart hurt. This was different than all the other times you’ve been hospitalized, and I somehow knew that. I am so glad I was there to see your last conscious smile to me, your last, “I love you, too.” It was only a few days later, and you were put on the ventilator. I’d visit and sit with you, talk to you, even though you were under heavy sedation and could not respond. Your hands were covered in mitts, because you would continue to reach up in your drugged sleep and try to pull the tubes out. I’d sit with the sounds of the machines, your breath, watching your chest going up and down. Somewhere after the first week of this, I had an overwhelming feeling and intuitive sense you wanted to go. All my dreams had been of you and me adrift at sea, going under and pulling our heads back up for air, getting so tired of trying to fight. I was so confused in these dreams. I wanted to find land, and you would drift away, only to have me call to you to find you again. But right before I’d wake up, the sea would go dark and I could no longer see you. And I was falling down, drowning with no fight in the darkness - until the world would turn upside down and I was suddenly falling into the dark of the night among wings, among hands, among constellations being carried back to my bed with the morning bringing questions for angels.

The sounds of mechanic breathing, the machines - your breaths were getting weaker and weaker and more ragged. I held your hand and stroked your hair. I had this sacred time. I felt the presence that would take your soul out of that sedative ocean, I knew looking out the window before my father, my brother, before the nurses knew - you had left. I didn’t say anything because - you know Dad, and it was also because it was one of the most supernatural things I’ve ever encountered in my life. When it was your final hour, and we were gathered around you, a clock on the computer screen and no machine sounds, I thought again of what I used to think was holy. A person on a ventilator for longer than a week, is a hard sight. The tubes had torn your mouth and damaged your teeth and tongue from you biting down in your sedation, your reflexive urge to get this unnatural thing out of your mouth. There were small amounts of blood in one of the lines from the irritation you had endured. Now they were gone. The sound you made when off the machines was the last of your heart muscle, lungs, trachea and mouth trying to lift something so light, the air, through your body, but it was so heavy now. I watched your mouth stay slightly slack, unable to close anymore. Your body was now a raft, the last thing on that strange sea still trying not to sink. We wept as a family, a song was played, my father showing tears like comets we only see a few times in our lifetime. I touched your hair, your hands and thought this was fitting and right since my birth was so brutal to you, the least I can do is comfort the body and honor it; if only I could cover this raft t with the daisies you loved and rose petals, before these giant waves took you under. I wanted to lay a crown on your head. I wondered if you saw us gathered around you or if you never looked back. Either way I’d be happy for you, Mom.

Your breaths finally rattled, as they told us they would. Your color began to fade and soon, this body of 70 years, finally let that soporific sea have it. The nurse came in a minute later and told us you were officially gone. I knew better. Your soul had beaten the clock, the restrictions of our reality. You had been offered a chance not to linger, and you took it. Your body was gone. My brother couldn’t look at you and closed the curtain in front of you, because you were dead. Death has its own spectrum in how it repels us, so there was no judgement from me. Soon, my father followed him. I was still stroking your hand, your face, as you became a shell likeness of yourself. Your body was at the bottom of the sea now, rolling in the tides and trying to become part of a much bigger living thing. I just sat and tried to memorize your face and there were no thoughts, no questions. I was silent inside and out. When I left your room finally, I went down to a garden area of the hospital and just watched birds flit in and out of a man made brook, causing tiny sprays every time they tried to land on the rocks. You were gone, all traces of you now had moved on to the next metaphysical ecosystem.

I miss you. We misunderstood each other for years, but I know now you were water and I was earth and fire, and it took so long for us to finally meet in a place where we formed our own island, after all my youthful eruptions and your hot and cold currents. Even my birth was like a creation story, with you in terrible labor for hours and hours, unable to release me into the air - like the land emerging from the depths of the sea after incredible energy shifts, yours only measurable by military nurses and finally a doctor with forceps. I know you see the new flowers and fruits I am producing on this volcanic soil and you gladly bless them after years of instability. Everything is changing, I am witness to a new and frightening world, Mom. But I feel more solid in who I am. I feel love when I think of you like water, moving and adapting and giving life to all who knew you. When I am in flow with my writing, with my art, with my life - I think of you. Timing is everything. So, now I write this letter to find you in a time I cannot even imagine. I admit, I wrote this letter to find myself, too. Love is the ley line to your world and mine.

Happy Mother’s Day, Linda.

All my love,

Your daughter - Jen (Gen)

@genvieve-of-the-wood May 6, 2020

#writerscreed #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #brokensoulsreborn #poeticstories #Poets and Writers #smittenbypoetry #twcpoetry #happy mothers day #covidー19 #I miss her #letter to my mom #genvieve-of-the-wood

31 notes · View notes

incoherentbabblings · 4 years

Text

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (5/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Ao3 Link Here!

In the first hour on conversation with Rebecca Andrews, her phone had rung no less than three times.

“It’s… he’s just very worried about me at the moment.” She uttered, pulling out more inspiration boards for Stephanie (and Cassandra) to muse over. Why Steph had brought Cass she wasn’t entirely sure. It was not an insult to say that the girl’s fashion sense was lacking, nor did she really know what looked good on Stephanie. But, to the public, and Stephanie supposed in reality too, she was the Maid of Honour, and that did come with certain obligations.

Of course, Cass was also there to pick up any inconsistencies in the woman’s actions or thinking or…anything really, that would set off alarm bells.

As for the dress itself, a silhouette decision had been somewhat easy.

“Please no trumpet or slinky numbers. It has to be a little conservative.” Stephanie wrung her hands. “I’ve got a lot of scarring on my back and chest… rather not show those off. And we’re thinking of the Cathedral for the venue, after this that’s where Tim and I are heading, so I don’t want…”

“Oh no, no, no. I know the Dean and the Bishop. Stuffy old men if there ever were a pair.”

Rebecca had smiled in a friendly manner then, hand over her mouth thinking, pulling Stephanie to the centre of her old workshop. It was neat and fancy, with one wall entirely constituting windows that looked out onto the other red brick tenements of this area of Gotham. Three months ago, Rebecca may have prided herself on being a hidden gem, now it seemed she was hidden for a reason.

“Do you just want shoulders covered, or full sleeves?”

Cassandra piped up from where she was sat, behind one of the old green sewing machines within the studio. She was resting an elbow on the table, watching amusedly.

“I want her, and I know Tim would love it, to look like Cinderella.”

“How do you know that?” Stephanie’s tone was a bit pointed, still raw from last night. Cassandra only smiled, not giving anything away, and shrugged.

Rebecca meanwhile nodded, brain sparking off with ideas.

“Yes… I can do that. You practically are this city’s Cinderella case, aren’t you?”

“I mean… I guess so?”

Guess so. The parallels practically draw themselves, Steph. She berated herself as measurements were taken. She was wearing workout leggings and a tank top, fully intending to run to college once the ordeal was over. Not sweeping cinders from a fireplace, but certainly not Gotham’s highest social circle frequenter.

“If I may ask…” Rebecca began tentatively, measuring Stephanie’s under-bust and legs. “Why me? You must have… heard…”

The phone rang again, and Rebecca only sighed, excusing herself.

Left alone in the studio, Stephanie frowned. “I don’t want a Cinderella dress, Cass.”

“What do you want?”

Steph jolted. “What?”

“You don’t want sexy, you don’t want princess, so…”

“I’d rather have nothing.” Steph grumbled to herself. Cassandra caught it and gave her a dangerous look. Steph sighed heavily and looked out the window. “What Bruce wants he gets. What everyone else feels is irrelevant.”

“Steph.” Cass’s tone was sharp, and Stephanie knew somewhere inside herself that she was being a brat, but she was still upset from yesterday at Tim. At herself. She didn’t know why she was so frightened. She just knew in her churning gut that she wouldn’t be enough to hold him to her. She never had been. And he was too lovesick to realise it. And she was too weak to tell him no.

She wanted the job over fast, but they still had weeks to go. Her mood had turned foul, and she was increasingly biting at everyone. Tim, her mother, Cassandra, her classmates… She was slipping. But she was miserable, and for the first time in a long while, couldn’t find a way to cope. She felt like she was regressing.

Rebecca trundled in with bundles of fabric.

“Sorry about that!” She huffed. Underneath the piles of fabric she held a small portfolio. Thin taffeta, structured satin and fine lace tumbled onto a table. She held out the portfolio for Stephanie to take and look through. “So, here’s some rough designs I’ve done in the past, we can use one as a base and go from there. First off, I want to know what your main fabric is to be. Not all three, only for the detailing.”

Stephanie’s eyes were drawn to the lace, but then Cass stepped in. “I like taffeta. You’ll look like a princess.”

“I suppose.” Dragging her eyes away, she looked at the see-through taffeta, then down at one of the designs she had opened on. Saying nothing, she stared a little longer.

Rebecca smiled patiently. “It’s a lot huh?”

“I just… I didn’t think my wedding was going to be this big.” Telling the truth, Stephanie told herself it was to make Rebecca more at ease. “We have to scale up.”

“Hmm.” Stephanie watched Cassandra watch Rebecca, who was musing over what Stephanie had said. “Well, let’s go for this. What are your flowers?”

“…Carnations.”

“Car—oh gosh. Okay, and your shoes?”

“I haven’t…I thought you should buy the dress first.”

Rebecca laughed. “Oh, you’d be surprised. What about jewellery? Any ideas for that?”

“I…”

“Dad wants her in pearls.” Cassandra butt in again. Stephanie bit her tongue. “Family jewels and all that.”

“Ah, pearls. The something borrowed part of the rhyme? And your hair?”

“I want it down.” For that she was certain. “Or mostly down.”

“So… a high neck? But your hair down?”

Her sceptical tone made Stephanie’s hackles rise. Rebecca circled around Stephanie, face pinched. Stephanie’s heartrate picked up from the critique and staring.

“If we do a bateau neckline we can go a little lower with the back. And your hair can’t be down, not with a high neck and full skirt. You’ll look matronly.”

“But I –”

“I’ll give you a veil, don’t worry, no-one will get a clear view of any scarring. You’ve got a swan’s neck. Let’s show it off, hmm? We’ll go for taffeta and lace. Soft. But grand. No ruffles, no sparkles.”

Rebecca took the portfolio from Stephanie’s hands and turned to a memorised page. “This. Longer train, higher neck. You got your long sleeves, got the full cathedral train – fittingly – you got grand princess… but none of the tackiness. Sound good?”

Taken aback by the competence the woman displayed, Stephanie nodded. It wasn’t what she wanted, not entirely, but it would suit the occasion. If it ever got to that stage. Perhaps Bruce would solve it after this first meeting.

“When do you want me back?” Stephanie asked.

“Four days.”

She had a seminar in the afternoon, but, “I can do the morning.”

“Nine o’clock sharp please. We’ve got a lot to do in not a lot of time.” Rebecca turned to see Cass watching her. She didn’t seem off put by it. “How many bridesmaids have you chosen?”

“Just Cass. And Tim just has Dick for his best man.”

Rebecca smiled absent-mindedly, allowing Stephanie off the pedestal. “So not large in that regard. That’s fine. What will you be wearing?”

“Something gold.” That part of the wedding, Cass was pleased with.

“White and gold colour scheme.” Stephanie explained, grabbing her little backpack.

“Ah. Just the two colours? No in-between? No cream or ivory or custard?”

Stephanie managed to laugh. “No, no. White and gold. That’s all.”

Rebecca nodded. “The dress will have to be pure white then. No ivory for you Miss Brown.”

“Mrs Wayne.” Cass nudged Steph teasingly, who had turned white, close to her limit and wanting nothing more for the appointment to be done.

“Drake.” She coughed, trying to hide her discomfort. “Drake-Wayne.”

Neither girl missed Ms Andrew’s eyes sparking off. She smiled, but it seemed a little hollow.

“I’ll see you on Thursday.”

Steph nodded, Cassandra gently pulling them towards the exit.

“Thursday nine in the morning. Thank you, Ms Andrews!”

“Bye Stephanie.” She seemed to remember something and called out to the girls. “You won’t regret choosing me! Thank you for the chance to prove I’m bankable!”

Right on time, her phone began to ring.

Shutting the door to let them out onto the concrete stairwell, both girls knelt right down, and tried to listen to the conversation. Nothing could be heard through the solid stone walls and heavy wooden door.

Huffing, Steph caught the time after she pulled out her second phone. “I got class and then Tim and I are going to speak to the Bishop. Gotta bribe our way in there.” Glancing sideways, she looked at Cass. “What are you doing now?”

Cass did not answer. Instead, she forced Stephanie to a place she did not want to go.

“You don’t like what she’s making for you.”

“…No.”

“Then why –”

Stephanie’s temper flared once more, and she snapped at Cassandra.

“I don’t know what I want, okay? I just don’t. That allowed? Fucking…” She bit at Cass, who only glared at her. Cassandra had never been one to back off when Stephanie was in a foul mood. “I trust this designer to make me a nice dress and I’ll wear it with the biggest goddamn smile on my face. Tim can have his little fantasy and leave me empty at the end of it.”

The insult to her brother mortified Cassandra. For as much as she loved Stephanie, she also loved Tim. Tim who had, as far as Cassandra could tell, done nothing but be open with the girl a few steps down from her. She chided, “Stephanie!”

“Oh God I am not in the mood for a –”

Steph was shoved down several stairs, Cassandra having had enough of her self-pity. She gasped, clinging tightly to the wall in an attempt to catch her breath from the sudden jolt.

“Grow up.” Cassandra spat out. “Remember why you are doing it.”

Stephanie felt like she had been punched and was unable to catch her breath. Moving to hold onto the handrail, she turned back up to Cassandra, only to find her Maid of Honour was looking on with frustration. A frustration very close to anger directed straight at Stephanie.

There was something in the look Stephanie gave Cassandra in response, one akin to betrayal, that made Cass snort. She was not going to indulge Stephanie any further and left, whirring past her with no goodbye.

The bottom door slammed shut, definitively letting Steph know that she wasn’t welcome to spend the night with Cassandra.

Feeling very close to tears, Stephanie rubbed at her eyes in the empty stairwell, sniffed, then began to run, trying to leave her mood behind her.

She walked to the cathedral after class, feeling close to punching the next person who grabbed her hand without her permission, or asked her for news about the wedding, or who questioned her with such a hungry look in their eye, that it made her feel oddly frightened and unsafe.

Gotham had too many cathedrals for too many denominations, but they had ended up at this one because it was where Bruce’s parents were married and it was where their funeral service was held. They were trying to get as much sympathy from the public as they could.

It was built from an oily black stone that looked like it was almost sweating, it looked so slick, and inside it was the very definition of Gothic. And yet somehow it managed to be filled with light and colour. It was damaged or bits of it were blown up it seemed every other week, and yet it had endured.

Stephanie found Tim inside, sat at the front of one of the aisles. The way the light was falling through the stained-glass windows cast colourful patches across the row.

His hair looked very black and thick.

Stephanie stared at him from across the aisle as he failed to notice her. Tim didn’t look deep in thought or prayer, he just looked sick and lost in his mind, a thousand miles away and spiralling down in his head. He was sallow, almost green he seemed so unwell, and she could offer no comfort. He wasn’t sleeping. Usually he would nap as and when, in weird places and at weird times, but it was enough to keep him going. It seemed now like his own brain was keeping him awake as some part of a sick experiment to watch how the human body fails after denied sleep for so long.

A memory of him lying on her stomach when they were young, both snoozing on her bed, offered itself as a potential solution.

She found herself not really wanting to however and quashed the thought. Where did Tim get off looking like such an abandoned puppy? She was the one who had to have asked to defer her graduation until winter due to time constraints and work overload, she was the one being forced into a role she didn’t want…

And he had the nerve to look like she had broken his heart. Tim, who had done that to her countless times over countless years, thought he was hard done by. She had no patience for it.

But then he noticed her approaching and his eyes flittered to hers. His eyes sparked with life, just for a moment, but then the blue grew dull once more, and the fog resumed.

Something inside her jerked painfully and before she was fully aware of what she was doing, Stephanie had rushed over, stood in front of him, and pulled him forward until he was being cradled. Almost aggressively, her fingers ran through his hair, and she felt him tremble.

They remained silent for a long while, Stephanie’s mind whirring at a thousand miles an hour. She could feel Tim slipping back into his lost thoughts once more. There were not many others present inside, so it was only the quiet sound of muffled footsteps and mutterings, a reassuring humdrum in the background, which kept her focus on him.

“It’s not fair.” She whispered, begging him to understand. “But I... I don’t trust…anyone with us.”

Tim made a mumble which suspiciously sounded like an apology to her. His hands crept up, to hold her elbows, and Stephanie rested her cheek on his head. She found herself scratching behind his ear.

He pushed her away, very gently, only so he could look up at her.

“I’m going to prove it to you. That everyone else doesn’t matter.”

A settled determinism had appeared then on his face and his posture, but Stephanie sighed, disregarding his mood. “I think you’re naïve.”

The bitterness crept back in, despite her regrets of her earlier spiteful thoughts and words, but this time it wasn’t directed at Tim. It was a general despondency and distrustfulness that even Tim, for all his earnestness, couldn’t save her from.

“Let me try.”

“Tim...”

Whatever Tim was going to say in response, she didn’t get to hear, because his open look slammed shut, and he peaked behind her left arm. Stephanie turned to see two elderly men approaching. One in a black suit, one in a robe.

“Mr Drake? Miss Brown?” Asked the man in the suit.

Tim’s game face on, he smiled affably. It seemed to placate the two men, who smiled politely and held their hands out to shake, but as Stephanie watched, she realised what their conversation the other day truly meant.

Tim had sometimes asked her who she truly loved, the suit or him, and she hadn’t understood why he had gotten so upset at her knowing his real name at first. Robin was Tim and Tim was Robin.

But then… that was less and less true. And some of that was her fault.

Tim wanted to prove to her the rest of the world didn’t matter, and yet he was retreating so far inward that soon even his friends and family wouldn’t know him.

Stephanie snaked an arm around Tim’s bicep as he shook hands with the two men, she following suit a moment later.

The Dean looked sterner than the Bishop, and insisted they walk around the cathedral grounds. The Bishop did all the talking after that point as they walked towards the cloisters.

“We understand that desire to marry where one’s family had in the past, and I am sure Mr Wayne would be over the moon…”

“But…” Tim asked, slowly stopping in a patch of light down the long corridor.

“But, well, we usually ask that anyone wanting to get married here attends church every Sunday for at least six months, and you two want to be wed in…four weeks? I’m sorry Mr Drake, but we can’t make an exception to you and Miss Brown.”

“But—” Tim tried to explain, but the Dean cut them off.

“It’s exploitative. We aren’t a pretty venue for a socialite’s wedding. I believe you have your own property for that kind of thing.”

There wasn’t much to say to that, as the pair knew he was right. These guys took their roles seriously, and they knew what Tim and Stephanie’s request looked like.

“Then why didn’t you say over the phone? Why did you invite us here? To chide us for even asking?” Stephanie managed to push back. She tried to measure her tone back down. “We love the cathedral because it is beautiful. We chose it because of its importance to our family. Bruce especially.”

“We aren’t exploiting anyone… least of all you. We know it’s on very short notice. If we had another choice we would be delaying a bit but…”

Tim trailed off, as if the pair were holding off on some dark grief-stricken secret that no-one, not even the Bishop, could know. The two older men exchanged glances, and Stephanie looked at her feet. Talking of exploitation…

“No.” Concluded the Bishop.

“But we –”

“I am sorry, the pair of you.” The Dean did not sound sorry. “But that’s our answer.”

The Bishop at least, looked slightly sorry at Tim and Stephanie’s genuinely sad expressions.

Stephanie, internally, was cursing up a storm. It would look laughable that they had been rejected from here as a venue. They would look entitled, they would look out of touch that they thought they could buy their way in, they would look foolish. She squeezed Tim’s arm repeatedly, practically massaging it. She wasn’t sure if she was comforting him, or doing it to reassure herself.

“I’ll walk you both out.” Said the Bishop, noting that neither were making any movement to leave.

Tim tried very hard not to glare, and they turned, walking with the Bishop. He seemed sheepish, embarrassed as much at himself as for Tim and Stephanie, who were both more than a little white faced, not sure what to say.

“If…if anything happens… if you do get the chance to stretch it out a little, consider coming back.”

Out on the front steps, Tim finally turned to look at the Bishop.

“Why did you agree to meet us? Why not tell Mrs van Rijk that the dates didn’t work, thank you very much but no?”

Stephanie meanwhile was watching people walk by below and across the street. It was looking like it was going to start raining again soon. Mrs van Rijk was determined to have the reception in the manor gardens. Having looked at the scheduled forecast for the next fortnight, Stephanie was not entirely optimistic for next month, even as it was approaching mid-May.

The Bishop had no good answer to give.

“The Dean and I agreed that it was better to tell you the truth in person.”

“So you have a slot that we could fill? But you won’t let us.” Tim was getting pushy now, whereas Stephanie was ready to just drop it. She was having a foul day, best to call it a loss and go home.

Except home was supposed to be at Tim’s. Her bed didn’t even have any sheets on it now, and she was so tired all she wanted to do was crash, and hope her mood improved in the morning.

“Well, yes, however, as the Dean said, there’s no sincere reason for either of you to choose here outside of Mr Wayne’s parents had services here. Sentimental reasons aren’t enough for the church.”

“According to the Dean? You don’t think the cathedral will benefit from something as high profile as this? Or is that too exploitative and cynical?”

Stephanie was taken aback by how aggressive Tim was being. She turned back around and laid a hand on his back, though he did not relax.

“It’s alright.” She said, her tone decidedly not alright. “We’ll find somewhere else. There’s still time.”

“No.” At Tim’s denial, Steph’s hand clenched in his shirt. “Why would you both even jump to the conclusion that Steph and I were using you?”

There was something unspoken in Tim’s question that both Stephanie and the Bishop heard. Stephanie’s grumpiness shifted immediately to upset, and she didn’t miss the way the Bishop’s eyes deliberately trailed up and down from her legs to her face. She stumbled back down a step or two as if she had been punched.

Tim also took a step back, but then his face flushed red, frustration changing to anger.

“You know what—”

Blood splattered over Stephanie, and the sound of a shot rang out. She cried out in shock, quickly realising the Bishop had collapsed on the steps. People on the street screamed and shouted, and Tim looked up to the right.

“He’s been shot.” Stephanie uselessly said. Immediately she was on the floor with him, and she looked up to see Tim tightly bound, like a spring. Someone had shot at them, missing only because Tim and Stephanie had moved down a step each at the wrong moment. Stephanie saw Tim’s line of sight looking to a neighbouring tenement.

“Go,” She urged. “I’ll get him inside. Call for help.”

She could feel dozens of eyes on her, but it felt more akin to her time as Batgirl then as Stephanie. She found the wound, pulsing blood down her fingertips in the Bishop’s left shoulder. It was bright scarlet, and there was a lot, pouring down the steps. Other members of the public, seemingly realising that it was just one gun shot, began to stop and stare, unsure what to do.

Tim shouted directly at one lady to call an ambulance, causing the bystander effect to fall away, then he ran straight for the building, training kicking in. Stephanie hoped he would reach the vantage point before the shooter fled.

She, meanwhile, managed to get Bishop Sherborne just inside the front door, in the patch of coloured light from the rose window. She stared at the trail of blood she had made. The Bishop was resting on her thighs, and she was pressing hard on the wound, trying to stifle the blood flow. The man’s face was turning grey, and his breathing was shallow, so Stephanie knew the ambulance would not arrive in time.

“I’m sorry.” She found herself saying. “I don’t… God, I’m sorry.”

He spluttered blood, lungs filling up, and managed to reach upwards, holding onto her forearm.

She held on tight, and people began to gather. She stared at her fingers, seeing them becoming as red as the robe the dying Bishop wore.

She could feel the man slipping from her.

Tim nearly fell back into the cathedral, just in time for the Dean to arrive to the scene as well. He stumbled a bit, through the small crowd of people migrating towards the dying man on the floor. The Dean yelled at them to maintain their distance, then he did not speak again.

“I couldn’t find them.” Tim said, tears in his eyes as he begged the Bishop and the Dean to understand. The Dean looked blankly on at his dying colleague. Having received no response, Tim knelt, and held the Bishop’s hand.

The blood soon stopped flowing, and the chest stopped rising. Stephanie let out a cry she wasn’t aware she was holding onto, and the suddenness of what had happened caught up with her. She began to sob. Deep, sore gulping cries that hurt her lungs and ripped their way out of her throat.

This man had not been the target. Bruce had made them promise. No more deaths, he’d said.

She looked up at the Dean, begging an apology. Distantly she understood she was hyperventilating, which was not like her. She saw Tim’s hands shaking as he gently tugged the Bishop off her lap, lying him flat on the floor. She looked down, seeing how she her hands were dripping with blood and her clothes were damp and dark. Uncomfortable memories rose up, and she began to desperately gulp down air, unable to see straight. A skeletal smile and a dirty floor throbbed in her head.

She looked again in the direction to the Dean, searching for him in her line of sight wildly. “I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry.”

Tim was around her then, picking her up and setting her aside. The ambulance had arrived, for what it was worth, and would need to speak to them soon enough. He sat them in a dark and damp corner, behind a large pillar and slightly off to the side. Eyes followed them, but they were far enough away to be alone, though still in sight if they were suddenly needed once more. Stephanie buried her face in her hands, the stench of drying blood smearing on her face making her nauseous.

“Steph. Stephie.”

She cried hearing his pet name.

“Stephie you need to breathe.”

“I am.”

“Slower. Hands on my chest. Come on.”

She did as she was told, and Tim whimpered at the blood she had smeared everywhere. “Breathe with me, okay?”

She shook her head, wet and fat tears slipping freely down onto her shirt.

“Sweetheart, you can do it, watch your hands. Breathe up and down.”

Seeing her hands rise and fall slowly with Tim’s chest, she slowly began to match it. She was still crying, but it became manageable.

“What happened?” He whispered. “You’ve seen this before.”

“It’s my fault.”

“No.”

She nodded, eyes squeezing shut. She rumpled Tim’s shirt. “They said no because of me. He was shot because I was the target and they missed.”

“And me. It’s my fault too?”

“No.”

“Then it’s not yours.”

Looking and feeling an utter state, she leaned forward, letting Tim catch her and pull her close. Steph curled up into a ball, and his legs bent upwards to allow her to perch herself in a manner that meant she was compressed between his chest and thighs. Tim rested his chin on her head, and watched the Dean say goodbye to his co-worker once the ambulance had taken away the body.

The police had arrived then, and to Tim’s surprise, Commissioner Gordon was amongst them. Though on further musing it made sense after what looked like the assassination of a major public figure.

He recognized Tim, and after a moment clicked that the blonde curled up ball in Tim’s arms was the girl Babs had taken to helping out recently.

He walked over, bending his knees to check on them both.

“You doing alright kiddos? No injuries?”

“No.” Tim shook his head. “But I think whoever was shooting aimed for us. We moved down a step just before they fired.”

Gordon leaned back on his heels. “Why would someone be aiming for you?”

Stephanie realised Tim had put his foot in it. Neither knew how much information Batman had shared with the Commissioner. And of course, Tim and Stephanie knew nothing of wedding murders and unlucky wedding dress designers.

“...I don’t know. I just... feel it.”

It was weak, but Gordon pretended to buy it.

“You will both have to give witness statements...”

Stephanie nodded, emerging from the cocoon that was Tim’s embrace. Gordon’s shoulders heaved up and down at the sight of her.

“You didn’t need to sit with him. The Dean told me what you did.”

“...Couldn’t leave him alone out front.”

“No.” Gordon sighed, rubbing his hands on his trousers. “Once we’ve got your statements, go home and rest up. Why were you two here anyway?”

Tim looked up, to see the Dean staring at them. He still appeared very much in shock, blank and uninvolved with what had just occurred. Tim’s gaze seemed to animate him, and slowly, like the old man he was, he trotted over.

“They were here…” said the Dean, ringing his hands, “to book their wedding venue.”

Tim gave a strangled noise. He thought the man was here to mock them, to point the finger. His colleague was dead because of their entitlement. Never mind that they could have been told no over email or the phone, never mind that Tim and Stephanie weren’t supposed to be targets until the wedding day… they couldn’t have known. Tim tried to convince himself, otherwise his words to Stephanie of the same fact would ring hollow.

This wasn’t their fault.

Gordon’s nose twitched. “Oh, yes, Babs mentioned that the other day. Congrats you two.”

Sat on the floor, covered in a dead man’s blood, Stephanie could only assume Gordon hadn’t meant his statement to be as ill-timed as it was.

The Dean’s eyes tightened, and he got down to be eye level with the couple still sat on the cold floor.

“I think, I may be acting out of turn here, but please, the 25th of May at two o’clock is a fine time for the wedding.”

Stephanie gave a broken whimper, turning back to rest on Tim’s chest. “No.” She whispered.

Tim ground his teeth together and squeezed her shoulder. Looking at the Dean, he just nodded. They would sort it out later.

Eventually they moved to the pews, which is where Bruce found them an hour later. They gave their statements and were clear to go, but the pair remained, not quite ready to leave. Bruce had a packet of wet wipes in his hands.

Tim felt Stephanie tense next to him and Tim’s own breathing slowed. He couldn’t endure a lecture from Bruce. He was going to bite back the minute Bruce’s tone got out of hand.

To Tim’s surprise, Bruce just sighed, and sat next to Stephanie. Pulling out a tissue, very carefully, he began to wipe the blood off her hands. Tim watched as Stephanie slowly turned towards Bruce, still a little tearful. She was welcoming the affection from him in a way Tim had never seen from either Bruce or Stephanie before. A strange ripple of jealousy migrated through his gut.

Stephanie sniffed a little, attempts to talk choking her throat.

“You said no more deaths.”

“I did…” Bruce sighed, though it did not sound like he was angry. Disappointment was there, because of course it was, but it was somewhat tempered knowing that the pair were undoubtedly crucifying themselves regardless of his opinion. “But I said you were to leave the investigation to me. I missed this. And now a man is dead. And it could have been you.”

He handed the tissues to Stephanie so she could clean her face. She smiled weakly and began to scrub at her cheeks, revealing raw red skin under her makeup.

Tim pinched one for his own hands. “Any news on that front? What did you find from the vantage sight?” He asked, trying not to sound too aggressive.

“…Whoever it is. They aren’t leaving anything behind. But I have a few leads. The designer and her boyfriend, the main pair…”

“She and our wedding planner were the only ones who knew we were coming here today.” Stephanie whispered.

Bruce nodded. “And the Bishop and the Dean…” He said, turning to see that the Dean was nowhere in sight. “But I don’t think it’s the Dean.”

“Somehow I doubt Mrs Van Rijk is responsible either.” Tim muttered.

“Did Cassandra say anything? About this morning?” Stephanie interjected.

Bruce gave a look which suggested Cassandra had said a lot of things.

“I’m needing a plug on her phone. She doesn’t have any private social media, nor email. That partner of hers… There’s been multiple incidents of the police called out to her residence in the past for domestic disputes.”

“Same boyfriend who won’t stop calling her?” Tim raised his eyebrow as he asked. It seemed obvious to him who was behind it. Abusive boyfriend couldn’t let his girlfriend be independent of him. Why was Bruce messing around?

“Needs confirming.”

“But –”

“You’re better than this Tim. Circumstantial evidence is not enough to build any case on.”

The insult threw Tim down two or three pegs. He loathed to be spoken to like that. He was better than what? Himself? Was it just another dig at how Bruce thought Tim was slipping?

Bruce sighed once more. “On a grimmer note. This whole event… it seems you did the right thing, trying to help Bishop Sherborne. Comments online have been very sympathetic and praising.”

“We didn’t even do anything.” Stephanie pled. Her face was turning a milky shade of green.

“Regular civilians comforting a dying man in his last moments is not something to be sniffed at, nor is running into the building to try and find the shooter.” He looked at them both individually, trying to make them understand. “And seeing through having the wedding here of all places.” Bruce paused, looking around. Tim believed this place held nothing but bad memories for him. How it must have seemed like Tim and Stephanie were spitting on his parent’s graves. “Shows you’re not frightened. People like that.”

“It feels manipulative… to use his death for our benefit…”

Tim just sighed. “Maybe. But it’s all to catch this murderer.”

Stephanie turned back to look at Tim. “All of it? Really?”

Tim struggled to reply, and Bruce took that as his signal to go. “Will you go back to Park Row? Or with me to the manor?”

Tim kept his and Stephanie’s eyes locked when he muttered. “We’ll go to mine.”

“Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow. No night job tonight. Try to sleep.”

With Bruce gone, Tim picked up a clean wet wipe, and gently began to stroke places Stephanie had missed on her own face. One place on her neck, he knew from experience used to make her sigh and close her eyes when he used to kiss or stroke it, and sure enough, she shut her eyes and began to relax bit by bit as he cleaned her up.

When they did return to Tim’s apartment, Tim took an almighty gamble.

“I know we said I would sleep on the sofa whilst you were here but… Steph, you okay to be alone tonight?”

She screwed her eyes shut, standing at the entrance to Tim’s closet. She had on her pyjamas and was squeezing her teddy like it was a stress ball.

“When was the last time you slept? All the way through the night?” She asked, refusing to answer his question.

“A while.”

She was trying to make the situation about him, deflecting and pretending her feelings didn’t count for as much as his. He grumbled to himself, knowing it was not a productive way of coping.

Stephanie smiled at him, trying to be cheeky, but it fell flat. “Then… you can stay. It’s a big bed anyway. If you have a nightmare…”

“If you have a nightmare…”

“We’ve never slept in the same bed before.” She muttered as she clambered in. Fluffing up her pillow, she rested down, laying a little bit like a corpse in a coffin. Tim very quickly joined in on his own side.

“We have.” He disputed.

“Not like this. Under the covers.”

Tim wiggled his eyebrows, and Stephanie snorted. Her laugh very quickly became sombre. Tim pressed his cheek down on the pillows. Already under the covers it was becoming warm with her lying next to him.

“Thank you, Tim. For today.”

“It wasn’t our fault.”

“No. But I freaked out.”

“You’re under stress.”

“And you’re not?”

“Everyone reacts differently to trauma and –”

“Sweetheart…” She kissed his cheek, and Tim fell silent. The gaze she received could only be described as adoring, and she hoped her own expression was equally smitten. “All these excuses you give me…”

She shifted, moving closer and closer until they were laying inches apart, practically sharing their breath. Her hand crept up, cradling his cheek. Gulping a little, Tim moved as she bid him. She shifted the pillows, propping herself up enough that her torso was above the sheets, but still shallow enough that she could sleep. She cradled Tim, pulling him so his head rested on her stomach. Both hands curled around his head, one stroking his hair, the other his exposed cheek

“I’ll sleep when you sleep, okay?”

The only sound in the room that Tim could make out was her muffled pulse and breathing. He was warm. He had been given something he had been craving since it had been taken from him years ago, only to not realise until recently how much he missed it. He inhaled deeply, distantly smelling the candy scented soap she used, and closed his eyes.

In his own bed, surrounded by Stephanie, and exhausted beyond measure, it did not take long for Tim to fall asleep, nor did it take Stephanie long to follow suit. She’d have a horrid sore neck and headache the next morning, but it was nothing one dose of painkillers wouldn’t mask.

The pair slept a full eight hours. No nightmares.

When Tim woke up to the natural morning light drifting through his curtains, and a blonde messy lump next to him, he tried to stop himself from crying. The emotional relief was so sharp, so intense, it nearly overwhelmed him.

He could do it, he told himself for the thousandth time. He could show her. This was how it was supposed to be.

#tim drake #stephanie brown #timsteph #dc #my fic tag

25 notes · View notes

queen-of-deans-booty · 4 years

Text

Changing Channels: Part Two

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,539

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Looking at your surroundings, you bit your lip nervously. There was no murder at the old paper mill. The Trickster was behind all of this, you can just feel him around.

“Dude, what the hell,” Sam commented as you three began walking throughout the corridors.

“I don’t know.”

“No, seriously, what the hell.”

“I don’t know!”

“One theory. Any theory.”

“The Trickster trapped us in TV Land,” you voiced your thoughts.

“That's your theory? That's stupid,” Dean scoffed.

“You're the one who said we're on Dr. Sexy, MD,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but TV land isn't TV Land. I mean there's actors and, and lights and crew members, you know? This looks real.”

“It can't be. Dean how can this possibly be real?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean groaned.

A woman doctor passed by the three of you, and she smirked at Dean and Sam.

“Doctors.”

“There goes Dr. Wang. The sexy but arrogant heart surgeon,” Dean explained as he moved onto another person who was sitting on a gurney looking very sad until another woman doctor came up to him. “And there's Johnny Drake. Oh, he's not even alive, he's a ghost in the mind of her, the sexy yet neurotic doctor over there.”

“So, this show has ghosts? Why?” you asked.

“I don't know. It is compelling,” Dean shrugged.

“I thought you said you weren't a fan.”

“I'm not. I'm not,” Dean scoffed, looking the other way towards the elevators. His eyes widened at the man walking towards him, but he couldn’t seem to say anything intelligent.

“Oh boy,” he whispered.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’s him.”

“Who?”

“It's him, it's Dr. Sexy,” he hissed just as Dr. Sexy approached the three of you.

“Doctor,” Dr. Palmer a.k.a Dr. Sexy, said as he looked at Dean.

“Doctor,” Dean looked down, hiding the obvious smile on his face.

He was such a fanboy in this moment, you almost forgot the assault that happened earlier.

“Doctor,” Dr. Palmer addressed you.

“Doctor?” you posed it as a question.

“Doctor,” Dr. Palmer finally addressed Sam.

However, the younger brother could only nod, and that caused the older one to smack him in the back from behind. Sam gave the fictional character a tight smile as he said it back.

“Doctor.”

“You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?” Dr. Palmer asked Dean who was clearly confused, yet disappointed that he upset his fictional idol.

“One reason?” he asked, and the recipient nodded.

Dean looked down in half-shame, about to give an answer when he spotted the doctor’s shoes. His face went from panic to anger as he shoved Dr. Sexy into the wall.

“Dean!” you hissed.

“You're not Dr. Sexy,” he ignored your attempt to bring him back to sanity.

“You're crazy.”

“Really? Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy, sexy, is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes.”

“Yeah, you’re not a fan,” Sam scoffed.

“It’s a guilty pleasure,” Dean argued without taking his eyes off the imposter.

You took a closer look at the doctor, and your eyes widened when you felt the energy pulsating from the being. This wasn’t a doctor, it was the Trickster.

“Call security,” Dr. Palmer said to the nearest person.

“I know who you are. You’re the Trickster,” you blurted out.

Dr. Palmer smirked in your direction as two female doctors and a security guard came rushing your way in a calm manner. Just like that, they and the other extras freeze-frame. Everyone except for you, Dean, Sam, and Dr. Palmer were able to move. Suddenly, Dr. Palmer morphs into the Trickster.

“You guys are getting better!”

“Get us the hell out of here,” Dean growled.

“Or what?” he asked, grabbing your boyfriend’s arm and twisted it. Dean winced in pain as he let go, and he took a step back to join you and his brother’s side. “Don't say you have wooden stakes, big guy.”

“That was you on the police scanner, right? This is a trick,” you observed.

“Hello? Trickster. Come on! I heard you three yahoos were in town. How could I resist?” he laughed.

“Where the hell are we?”

“Like it? It's all homemade. My own sets,” the Trickster raps on the window in a nearby door then indicated to the frozen extras, “my own actors... call it my own little idiot box.”

“How do we get out?” you asked.

“That, my friend, is the sixty-four-dollar question.”

“Whatever. We just, we need to talk to you. We need your help,” Sam tried his method that you discussed earlier.

“Hm, let me guess. You three muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess.”

“Please. Just five minutes. Hear us out.”

“Sure. Tell you what. Survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk,” he grinned.

“Survive what?” you asked.

“The game!”

“What game?”

“You’re in it.”

“How do we play?”

“You’re playing it.”

“What are the rules?” you asked, raising your eyebrow in suspicion.

The Trickster matched your eyebrow game, grinned, then vanished in a burst of static. The extras unfroze and resumed their lives as if nothing happened.

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Dean groaned.

A blonde doctor pushed past the three of you, calling out Dr. Palmer’s name in a frenzy.

“Dr. Sexy? Dr. Sexy?”

“Come on,” you sighed, leading the group down the corridor after her.

“Oh, by the way, talking with monsters? Hell of a plan,” Dean antagonized his brother.

“Just, what do we do now?” Sam asked.

Before anyone had anything to say, the male doctor who slapped your ass from before came walking around the corner. When he saw you, you knew from the look in his eyes that he was gonna slap your ass once more. Before he had the chance to do it, you grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and shoved him into the nearest wall.

“You even think about touching me, I’ll break your arm,” you threatened.

All the man could do is laugh as he shrugged out of your grasp.

“I love that fiery passion you have. Makes for a great night,” he grinned, winking at you as he left.

“What the fuck is going on? What are we doing here?” you asked loudly.

“You know what I'm doing? Leaving,” Dean declared.

He turned the corner only to come face to face with Dr. Piccolo, the woman who slapped Sam earlier. She reached up and tried to take another swig at him, but Sam was smart and dodged it easily.

“Lady, what the hell?”

“You are a brilliant, brilliant—”

“Yeah. A coward,” he interrupted her. “You already said that, but I got news for you. I am not a doctor.”

“Don't say that,” she choked up. “You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I have met plenty. So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes people just die.”

“I have no idea what you're saying to me.”

“You're afraid. You're afraid to operate again, and you're afraid to love,” she sobbed, leaving his side to run down the hallway in tears.

“Yeah, we're getting out of here,” Sam nodded.

“Hey, Doctor?” a man asked, stopping you in his tracks.

“Yeah?”

“My wife needs that face transplant.”

“Look, I’m sure you’re a very nice man, but none of this is real, okay? Your wife doesn’t need jack shit from me,” you snapped, continuing on your way.

“Hey, Doctor,” the man said once more with a look of agony on his face.

He lifted a gun to your chest and pulled the trigger, missing your heart by a few inches. Instead, the bullet went straight through your lower back. He escaped down the hall as your eyes widened in shock.

“Real,” you gasped as blood started to pool on your coat. “Dean, this is real.”

Gasping, you fell to the floor just as Sam and Dean realized what you were trying to say.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—hey! We need a doctor!” Dean yelled as he knelt by you.

Both him and Sam yelled around frantically for some help. Closing your eyes, you tried to use your magic to heal yourself, but something was wrong. It wasn’t working which was scary to you since you’ve become so dependent on it. When you opened your eyes, you weren’t in the hallway on the floor, but face down on an operating table, staring straight through the headrest at several pairs of white tennis shoes.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“BP is eighty over fifty and dropping,” one of the nurses announced.

“Doctor,” a scrub nurse said, holding out a scalpel to one of the brothers.

“What?” Sam asked, exchanging glances with his brother.

“Fuck, do something. One of you,” you hissed from down below.

“We don’t know how to use any of this shit,” Sam whispered to you.

“Figure it out,” you snapped.

No one did anything for a while, and the nurses began looking at each other worriedly as you bled.

“Fuck this,” Dean muttered to himself before speaking up to the nurses. “I need a penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and a fifth of whiskey.” Sam and the other nurses looked at him silently, not sure how to react. “Stat!”

As soon as the order was barked, the nurses scrambled to get the things that Dean requested. When he got everything he needed, he began sewing your skin up like he would do normally if one of you got a wound from hunting.

“We okay? How's it looking?” you asked when you didn’t feel anything else happening.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you,” Dean grinned.

Even at this stage of your relationship, he still managed to make you blush like a schoolgirl. The tennis shoes in you view walked away, and you stared at the blue carpeting. There was a shift in the air, and you no longer heard the clanging of metal that is normal in an OR. Replacing that, clapping started erupting and lights started flashing. The blue floor transformed into two blue doors that opened.

No longer were you on an operating table but strapped to a machine that has a slot for a pole with two large balls at the end that were roughly the size of your chest. Sam and Dean were in a similar position, but they were standing in shoes glued to a platform with only one ball attached to a pole. A Japanese man come out of the doors you were staring at with two women trailing behind him.

“Let's play Nutty Cracker!” he yells, and the audience sheers. He says something in Japanese before pulling out cards from his jacket.

“Sam Winchester,” he said, speaking the question in Japanese. What was the name of the demon you chose over your own brother? You three didn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, but it didn’t matter to the man.

“Countdown!” he announced once he was finished.

The big countdown clock started ticking backwards from twenty.

“Uh, what am I supposed to say?” Sam asked you and Dean.

“You think I know?” Dean screeched.

“Uh, I don't—I don't understand Japanese,” Sam said to the host who only repeated the question in his native tongue. “Is he screwing with me? I—I can't speak Japanese.”

The screen behind him reached zero which sounded off a loud buzz. The host said something in Japanese, saying the answer in English.

“Ruby! I'm sorry, Sam Winchester.”

“Sorry? Sir? For what?” Sam asked in a panic.

The host could only laugh just as the ball attached to Sam’s platform rushed up and whacks Sam in the crotch. Dean is clearly horrified, and Sam doubled over in pain as much as he could. The crowed cheers at this, but you were growing angry at the Trickster for doing this to you. Your eyes shined a bright blue in an attempt to save Sam some of the pain, but when you moved your hands up to use your magic, it shortened out and fluttered away in sparks.

What the fuck was going on?!

“Nutty Cracker!” The host yelled.

“Sam?” Dean asked. His brother makes an inarticulate noise in response. “You okay?”

Sam could only glare at his brother since he couldn’t seem to form the words on his own. Dean looked at his own platform, saw the ball, and began to panic.

“I can’t use my magic. Something is very wrong!” you urged.

The lights on the door began flashing which could only mean that someone or something was coming through those doors.

“What now?” Dean groaned.

The door opened to reveal Castiel, and the crowd cheered at his presence.

“Castiel?” you gasped.

“Is this another trick?” Sam asked once he gathered the nerve to.

“It's me. Uh, what are you doing here?”

“Us? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You've been missing for days.”

“Get us the hell out of here, then!” you yelled.

“Let’s go,” he said, raising his arms to touch Sam and Dean on the forehead.

However, after taking two steps to you, he vanished in the same manner as the Trickster did on the set of Dr. Sexy MD.

“No, no, no, no,” the host tsk’d, and reached into his jacket pocket for more cards, “Mr. Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels. Dean Winchester.”

The host moved onto the next brother and asked a question in Japanese. Would your mother and father still be alive if your brother was never born?

“Countdown!”

“What do I do, what do I do?” Dean panicked when he saw the clock count down from twenty. “I don't wanna get hit in the nuts.”

“I don't know, I—I—I—wait!” Sam gasped.

His mouth began moving, but you weren’t really focusing on his words. Your blood began to boil at the games the Trickster was playing on the three of you. He doesn’t get to come into your life and start screwing with it. Your magic worked before, and with a little more concentration, you knew you would be able to use it to get out of these binds.

“Screw you, Trickster,” you glared, using every ounce of strength you had to get out of the binds.

The countdown reached zero, but before it had a chance to buzz, Dean pressed his button. Your magic bubbled up inside of you before tipping over the edge. Dean answered the question in Japanese just as the metal covering your chest blew up. The metal pieces flew all across the stage, and everyone stared at you in shock. Stepping off your platform, you glared at the host in anger.

“Tell the Trickster he can kiss my ass.”

“Dean Winchester! The Nutty Cracker Champion!” the host changed the subject, congratulating the winning brother.

“We play the roles to survive, but I wouldn’t advise doing that again,” Sam said to you.

“Yeah, I’d like to see him stop me,” you growled just as your eyes flashed bright blue.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@sing4mejensen @essie1876 @gh0stgurl @redsalv20 @superrandomnatural @scarletmeii @babypink224221 @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo @akshi8278 @a--1--1--3 @kendlemariee @miraclesoflove @earthtokace @teamfreewillsstuff @fandom-princess-forevermore @kiwihoee @jennazeise @phantomalchemist @posiemax @22sarah08 @tricksterdean @andi-mendes-barnes @put-my-favorite-record-on @countrygal17a

44 notes · View notes

rainbows-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Our Nightmare

Summary:

Sally moves in with the man of her screams. But there is still so much she has to learn of Halloween Town, and what it's like living with The Pumpkin King.

A sequel to Two Dearest Friends, where the Christmas incident never happens. But there are still many ends that haven't been met, and much for these two dreamers to learn as they start to spend their deaths together.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally, Dr Finklestein/Jewel

Note: This is a SEQUEL to my other story, TWO DEAREST FRIENDS. To read the original story, go here.

The Skellington manor has only housed 2 residents in most of its existence.

The 3-story mansion equipped with a large observatory atop has only ever sheltered Jack Skellington and his ghostly pet, Zero. It comes to no surprise that the house wasn't expecting the softer pair of footsteps that came in one fateful afternoon. The moment Sally Finklestein steps into the Pumpkin King's manor, there's an audible groan that sounds from the floor, accompanied by the walls making sudden, sharp creaks. The ragdoll freezes in fear. But as her foot lingers longer on the tiled surface, the noises stop and she is left to listen to the sudden silence in its absence. She turns to the skeleton watching from the doorway, not knowing how to express the right confusion from such a situation.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asks, her voice quiet and polite as usual. Jack shakes his skull and approaches one of the walls, patting it a couple of times and smiling weakly.

"No, no of course not. The house just needs to....get used to you, is all. It settles when it's comfortable."

"I didn't know houses can be aware like this..." She remembers the time he invited her in for tea, but doesn't recall anything peculiar. "It didn't make those noises last time I was here."

"It understands the difference between a guest and a resident. It's sentient, and very, very courteous. It won't do any harm to you, I assure."

She relaxes as he smiles at her, and watches as he picks up the boxes that were situated by the front door. She is suddenly reminded of why she's even here. After years of a long, eventful life living with Doctor Finklestein in his tower after being created by him....she is now moving in with Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King. Her mind scrambles trying to recall everything that's happened prior to this moment - when she was first kidnapped by Oogie Boogie, saved by the skeleton himself, getting a tour of Halloween Town, finding Jack in the Graveyard and befriending him, experiencing a long yet blossomed relationship with the man......they started as friends and grew to something closer than that, then eventually, they became a couple. Everything about it was simply beautiful to Sally; how she turned from an imprisoned slave into a free spirit with a purpose.

How could she forget the first time she stepped out of that tower, when she saw Jack's smile, and all of the times she left everything she had to endure just to see him again...She had only dreamed of him reciprocating her love, showing him how much he means to her, and sharing a domestic life with him....she wanted it badly, and just today had she been presented with this opportunity. Nothing could've made her more happier. And how ironic, it seemed, that this decision was only supported by the Doctor because he had a replacement for her now. He had no use for Sally anymore, and handed her off to someone else. She was very lucky that happened to be Jack. She was more than fortunate to be with the man who did everything for her.

The skeleton steps around her and heads through a doorway. She quickly follows after, carrying a box of her own. "-I decided on a room for you already. I figured the stairs would be too much of a hassle for you, so I found a bedroom on the ground floor."

She blinks her eyes, marveling at the old chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the many paintings they pass. "How many floors does your house have?"

"Three, if you include the observatory. But don't worry. I try to keep all the necessities downstairs. There's mostly bedrooms and guest rooms on the second floor, so you won't have a need to come up that often." He stops once they reach a door at the end of the hallway. "-This is it!"

He hesitates to put his bony hand on the doorknob, looking over at her uncertainly. "Would you, uh, mind waiting here for a minute? I didn't exactly have the time to prepare the room. I'm sorry for being so unprepared, but I hadn't expected-"

"No, it's okay. I didn't plan on this either, otherwise I'd be more ready myself." She sets the box down carefully and sighs in relief. "Take your time, Jack. I'll wait out here."

He gives her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Sally...Don't be afraid to look around, get curious about things. Technically, this is your home now, too, so I want you to get used to the place."

"I will."

He gives her one last nod before leaving into the room, which she only gets a glance of before he hurriedly shuts the door. She waits a few moments before turning around and admiring the long hallway. There is a red rug on the floor with intricate designs of spiderwebs on it. Her attention is suddenly brought to the walls, where she now notices a collection of framed pictures hanging in neat patterns with one another. She admires them all as she walks carefully on the rug, humming in curiosity. Most of them are old photographs of Halloween Town. She catches one of Jack and the Mayor standing in front of the Town Hall shaking hands, and smiles to herself. She admires him for keeping such history of his town in his own home.

The longer she follows these photos, the more she finds of Jack himself. He's in various ones surrounded by other people, mostly his citizens and coworkers. But then Sally would find one of him by himself, or just him and Zero. There were times when his smile was big, and where it wasn't very enthusiastic. After knowing him for so long, she was able to recognize it. A troubled frown comes onto the ragdoll's face as she stops at one in particular, which is a picture of Jack sitting at his desk, turned around to smile at the one taking the picture. But there is something gloom about his posture, and something sad in his eye sockets. She holds her small hand over the picture and feels her chest grow cold.

'He looks so...lonely.'

She doesn't feel as excited to look at the rest of the pictures, so she turns around to look at other things instead. She adores the wallpaper in these hallways - it's of a crimson color with elaborate, yellow lines that break the color. The design reminds her of the fancy castles she used to read about - the exact ones kings and queens would live in. In fact, everything about his mansion reminds her of someplace...elegant, and tidy. It makes sense that the Pumpkin King would inhabit such a place like this. Nothing like the old tower she lived in before, that was always so suffocating, cold, and had leaks everywhere. The walls and the floor were made of metal there, but in here, the ground was warm and the walls felt inviting. Everything in the Skellington Manor looked absolutely well-kept.

'It's all so homey', She thinks. 'A gentlewoman would be suited better here than me, that's for sure...'

A voice suddenly breaks her thoughts:

"Sally? It's ready now, if you want to see it!"

She hurries over to meet with the skeleton, who happily clasps his hands together once she's in front of him. He doesn't look anything like how he did in that picture she saw. 'Which is a good thing, I guess...' She notices the door is closed and all of her belongings are brought in already. He clears his throat as he rubs his palms together, looking like a child excited to show something he had made.

"I think you're going to like it! I made a few touches here-and-there, though I'm sure you won't even notice them." He eagerly swoops over next to the door, fingers caressing the doorknob. "Now, close your eyes and wait until I say you can open them..."

She does as she is told, giggling slightly at the idea that the unveiling of her room has to be some sort of grand surprise. She listens as he opens the door and feels his hand gently guiding her forward on her back. She plays his game and takes a few steps in his direction until he stops her, then closes the door behind them. She can't help but feel giddy in this time, wondering what her new room is going to look like. She already knows it's going to be nothing like her old one, and yet, the curiosity is still gnawing at her leaves...

"Alright, you can open your eyes!"

Immediately, she opens them. And as she does, her jaw falls open in utter shock. Before her is, in her opinion, a room fit for a princess! Due to the high ceiling, there is a beautiful collection of cobwebs that hang above a queen-sized bed. It leaves enough space for a nightstand to rest on its left side, with a beautiful lamp and small clock. Across the bed is a vanity desk that contains a mirror, tall enough that she can see herself in, and enough room to work on whatever she desires. Beside that is a large bookshelf filled to the brim with dusty novels. She approaches it and glances at some of the titles, smiling when she notices that most of them are fictional romances. The exact type she loves to read. There are so many on the shelves...she could be reading for days!

When she turns around, she notices there is a petite desk next to the covered window with her sewing machine on it. Unlike her old one, there is plenty of space for her to set all the materials where they need to go, and there is even a mirror on the wall for her to check her work. She walks over to admire it before bringing her attention over to the window. She finds the curtains are closed, and gently opens them to reveal whatever is beyond it. This causes her jaw to drop once more - as she is provided with a beautiful view of Halloween Town. Since the manor is raised, she can see the roofs of all the houses and the streets from above. She had a similar view from her tower, but this one isn't obscured by the bars on the window. She has a perfect view she can see out of anytime. And to think, it's right by her desk, so she can gaze outside while she works!

"Jack, this is all so lovely..." She confesses. "I-I don't know what to say."

He starts to tsk. At her confusion, he simply smiles. "You haven't seen your new closet yet, have you?"

She blinks several times, wondering how in Halloween she could've missed her closet! The skeleton slides open a large door to reveal a spacious closet beside her bed. She finds the dresses she made are already hung inside, handled with great care. There is plenty of space for new ones and even a proper place to put her shoes in. She approaches it in awe and leaves her hand to trail along its side, imagining filling it with all the new creations she's bound to make. She sees nothing but a blank canvas laid right before her, and Jack seems happy as he taps his finger on the wall, watching her gawk at the room.

"I thought you would appreciate a room that felt like it was for you. You didn't have an awful lot in your last one."

She turns to him and smiles. "Well, the Doctor only gave me what he thought was necessary..."

"You mean a bed that looked like it would snap in half at any moment, and a closet that could barely fit three days worth of clothes?" He crosses his arms. "I have to disagree."

"I'm not sure if I deserve a big bed like this, or such a view, or....any of this, really. I don't need much, and I don't want to ask too much from y-"

"-Shh sh sh." He lays a bony finger over her lips. "All of this is for you. You have your own space now. And anything you need or want, I will happily get for you. You have as much right to a decent bed and your own hobby like anyone else. And I don't want to hear otherwise."

Her eyelashes brush against the tip of his finger as he brings it away. "Thank you, Jack..."

"Alright, then." He steps back and grins, opening the door and motioning outside. "I'll show you a bit more around."

She was happy to skip to the door and follow Jack around his mansion. He did as he promised, giving her a small little tour of his home and informing her where things were. There was a bathroom just down the hallway she was roomed in, and she wasn't very far from the kitchen. The living room and den were close from there, and everything else seems to be upstairs. She follows him above as he briefly shows her his own bedroom, which, she finds, has a respectably king-sized bed. There were even more stairs after that, and she grew a little fatigued as she stepped through a spiral one, before finding that she was standing in the middle of his study. The same room she used to watch him pace around in for hours when she was back in Finklestein's Tower, watching his silhouette through the windows...

After looking at all the projects he had laying around in there and admiring the highest view in Halloween Town, Jack helps her down the staircase to show her a few things they missed. She was having a hard time coming to terms that this is the house she'll be staying in from now on: an exquisite, 3-floor mansion filled to the brim with rooms and fancy things...she'll be sharing it with The Pumpkin King, and she'll be seeing these things every day from this day forward. It makes her excited, but under that, she feels a familiar insecurity brewing in the pit of her stomach...

----

By the time their little tour is finished, Sally collapses on one of his couches, wanting to take a break from all the steps and stairs she endured from this hour alone. Jack, meanwhile, is still musing about something with a skeletal finger propped on his jaw. He eventually shrugs and smiles happily at his girlfriend, who opens her eyes after she finally has her breath back.

"-And I think that's just about it!" He announces happily. "Do you have any questions, Sal? Before it gets too late?"

She glances out of a nearby window and notices that it's already night time. There was a lot that happened today, yet the time still feels like it flew right by. She lets out an exhausted sigh as she sits forward, trying to think of anything she is curious about. There's plenty, but now isn't the time to pester him with 20 questions. They both need a lot of rest after today, and in the morning, they can talk about things further. For now.....she had at least one question that was bothering her.

"Yes, I was just wondering..." She brings her gaze up to lock with his. "What are the rules here?"

"Hm?"

"You know, the rules you have for...staying here." She plays with her fingers. "How often do I need to do the dishes, when your meals should be cooked, what time I'm allowed to get up and go to sleep..."

The skeleton looks bewildered. She sinks into her shoulders, feeling embarrassed for asking such a thing. It just felt so natural, and like she was suppose to ask. Was it the wrong thing to say? Or did he truly not know the answer?

"There...are no rules. None whatsoever." He takes a seat next to her and holds her hand endearingly. "Sally, I'm not the Doctor. I'm not going to give you a million of chores you have to do just at the expense of living here. I want you here, and you shouldn't feel obligated to do anything for that."

Her eyes widen. "You mean, you don't want me to cook, or clean, or...or make your clothes?"

He shakes his skull. "Not really. If you'd like to do those things, then I won't stop you, but....you don't have to do them. Those things may have been a little tough for the Doctor to do, but I am able-bodied and I'm capable of cooking and cleaning like you are."

"I....I wasn't expecting that answer." She confesses.

He leans forward and leaves a kiss on her cheek, making her blush slightly. "-You don't owe me anything, and I want you to remember that. As long as you're comfortable, healthy, and happy here, that's all I ask. It's about time someone took care of you for once, rather than the other way around."

This makes her smile, and her leaves grow tingly. She lets out a content sigh as he pulls back. "You're right. I guess I'm just so...so used to being around the Doctor that...I don't know what it's like to live any other way."

"Well, we're going to change that. From now on, you don't have to worry about any of those things, and I'll be here for you. I'm ready to share my death with you, Sally. I certainly hope you're ready to share it with me?"

"Of course, Jack...I couldn't ask for anything better."

----

Jack Skellington prepares to rest for that night, and ensures that his partner is more than comfortable. He leaves her after she's settled in her bed and heads for his own room, where he leaves his door cracked open in case Sally needed him at all during the night. He promised her she could call for him, and he was more than prepared to fend for another person after so long. That thought buzzes in his skull as he changes into his sleeping clothes, laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling. A very prominent thought resurfaces in his mind, and he's left to dwell on it for the night.

Sally is living with him now.

It's almost the same feeling as when Doctor Finklestein first mentioned it to him. After being alone for so long, living only with his dog for years...now they have another person in their home. And it's not a guest or a mere visitor; it's the love of his death sharing the same space as him, and only a floor down. This was the least he could do for her after she got kicked out of her last place as soon as it was decided that the Doctor didn't need her anymore. 'This is his loss.' Jack thinks to himself. 'Sally is talented, kind, and sweet...having her around is going to be the best thing in my death.'

And what a thought that was...no longer will his mornings feel so empty and cold, and he won't have to come home to a nearly-empty mansion anymore. He's going to have her to listen to, her to see and hold, her at his side when he needs her most. It's felt like ages since he's had something like this to look forward to, and now that things were so much easier...he wasn't going to let any moment go to waste. He's going to cherish this ragdoll, show his love and appreciation for her, and take good care of her on the account that she hasn't had a very good home life before. He's going to do everything for her, and ensure that she is his top priority at all times.

He drifts off to sleep thinking of everything he is going to do for her, and how better his death is going to be after this night. He looks forward to the morning and wishes it could come sooner - so he can see her beautiful dark eyes again, and hear her soft voice the first thing after the skeletal rooster crows....

----

Sally Finklestein flutters her eyelashes after she finds her room engulfed in the pumpkin sun. The air feels only slightly musty as she rises from her bed and lets out a small yawn, blinking her eyes several times in an attempt to clear her vision. She recalls sleeping almost perfectly in her new bed, the mattress comfortable and her pillow so soft....the blanket was actually big enough to cover her whole body, and not once did she toss and turn in her sleep. It was unusually quiet this morning. This is new to her, as she would usually hear the Doctor screaming at her for his breakfast by now, and Igor would've surely waken her at such an hour like this.

She tosses the blanket off of her as she takes a weary step on the floor. She feels so well-rested, it almost makes her dizzy! She trudges on despite this, and gently opens her door. The sound of something sizzling comes down the hallway, and she curiously follows it. The closer she gets to the kitchen, the more she can make out the smell of something sweet - something that makes her tongue water, and her nose curiously inch more towards the source of the smell. When she peeks her head through the doorway, she finds a skeleton standing in front of the stove, one hand holding the handle of a pan and the other shoved in his pocket.

She quietly attempts to step in the room without catching his attention, but he happens to turn his skull in her direction. She freezes almost instantly - a habit thinking she had been caught. But after finding a large smile on his lips and hearing a cheerful hum, Sally relaxes.

"Awful morning, Sally. Did you sleep terrible?"

"Just horrible, thank you." She blinks curiously as she comes to his side, peeking at what was in the pan. She is surprised to find a couple slices of toast. "What are you making?"

"'Pain perdu'...or, as some call it, 'French Toast'." He reaches over to grab a plate. "I picked up this recipe from the human world. I'm wondering if you'll like it." He turns and motions towards the other room with his skull. "I made you a plate already."

She follows his gaze and notices a doorway leading into the dining room. She heads in and finds a plate of toast that has been sitting on the table. She curiously heads over and takes a seat, grabbing the fork and poking curiously at the bread. It certainly smells sweeter now that she's in front of it, and just staring at it is making her mouth water...she eagerly takes a bite and 'mmm's almost immediately at the taste. It is sweet! And it has just a little bit of syrup, cinnamon, and sugar coated on top...she begins to eat the rest mindlessly, not noticing how hungry she was.

Jack comes into the room and sits across from her, setting down his own serving. Sally notices that he's already dressed in his pinstriped suit while she remains in her pajamas. She shyly brushes her hair as he sits down, and sets her fork down as she thinks of what to say. This is their first morning they're spending together...and, already, it feels so much better. She didn't have to make breakfast, and for what awaited her that day, she had no clue. She was just relieved it wasn't chores or cleaning!

"Thank you for letting me sleep in." She tells him quietly.

"You needed the rest, with everything you've been through." He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "It is still rather early, anyway."

"Really? I'm surprised to see you awake and dressed already."

"I'm used to getting up the moment the sun rises. I have to wake early to work with the Mayor every morning."

"Oh..." She looks down and plays with her hands under the table. "I'm not taking you away from work right now, am I...?"

"Not at all! I wanted to make you something because I had a feeling you'd be wake up famished. Neither of us ate last night." He points to her plate with his fork. "How is it, by the way? Terrible?"

"The worst." She grins. "Thank you, Jack...it's delicious. I'm not really used to anyone making breakfast for me."

The memory of Finklestein making a meal for her once surfaces in her mind; the indescribable. awful food on her plate...she winces at the image. She's grateful her boyfriend knows how to cook properly. This won't be something she has to worry about every morning anymore, desperately working over the stove just so she doesn't have to worry about her disgruntled creator. The skeleton finishes his serving and sets his plate to the side.

"-Well, you might want to adjust. I enjoy cooking."

She smiles and finishes her food while the skeleton sits there, looking away in thought. It's only after her plate is empty that Sally realizes there is much to talk about with him. So much has happened yesterday, and while she already feels comfortable in this new environment, there are still other matters to handle. Ones they've neglected for awhile, and have been meaning to get around to.

"Jack, I want to thank you for everything last night, but there are other things on my mind, too." She brings up slowly. "I think we should tell the town about us already. If we don't, then me living here may look a little suspicious, or raise a lot of questions with our friends and the citizens..."

He brings his attention to her and nods. "-That's exactly what I was thinking! You and I were talking about...a meeting, weren't we? Where I called everyone for some Halloween announcement and finally tell them? I still think we should do that."

"I do, too. If only what happened with the Doctor hadn't gotten in the way..." Her gaze comes down as she mumbles quietly. "I wish he had taken it much better than he did..."

She finds his bony hand over hers, urging Sally to look up at him. The skeleton gives her an assuring smile. "What's important is that it's done with. The Doctor knows, and you're living with me now. If anything, that makes this a whole lot easier."

"Yes, that's true...he was the first one we wanted to know, anyway, wasn't it?"

"That he was. And now everyone else can! Well, besides the Band." He sits back in his seat and thinks for a moment. "I'll go ahead and schedule one today. You're going to be there, right?"

She plays with her hair, nodding slowly. "Of course I'll be."

"Great! You'll know when it is; I'll be sure to send the Mayor out to announce it. He'll be going around town soon if things go as planned."

He collects both of their plates before disappearing into the kitchen. Sally frowns and stares at the tablecloth while he's gone. She wonders how the meeting will go, and if her presence will complicate anything. She knows the females will surely be disappointed, especially the admirers of Jack. She quietly fears if any of them will take it out on her - but the better part of her thinks otherwise. Halloween Town is full of kind, generous citizens from what she's seen. They'll surely be respectful about her and Jack's relationship, won't they?

The skeleton suddenly comes back in the room, tugging at his sleeves as he lingers by the doorway. "-Well, I should be heading off, now. I need to catch up with the Mayor and explain my absence. The first thing I'll do is schedule that meeting."

She gets up from her seat and nods. "That sounds like a good idea."

He looks at her and smiles, turning to face her. "I guess I'll be seeing you there, then?"

"I guess you will."

He stand there idly before walking over to her and leaning forward. She gets the hint and raises her head slightly to kiss him. It was a gentle. And every passing second where their lips interlocked, it assured Sally that things are going to be okay. That she had absolutely nothing to worry about so long as she had this man by her side. Her best friend....her lover. They're going to get through this together, no matter how it turns out. She already feels immensely protected. Jack eventually pulls away and gives her one last smile.

"You'll be alright without me here?" She nods. "-I'm sure you know where everything is. Help yourself to anything in the meantime. I can't wait to see you again."

He heads for the door and dips his skull before leaving. As the door closes behind him, the ragdoll stares at it for a few minutes. She listens as his footsteps climb down the stairs, then silence ensues after. She clasps her hands together and squeezes them, rocking on her heels gently. Her leaves start to swell anxiously as she sits down, and she spends many minutes staring around the room hoping, quietly, that things will go alright.

#The Nightmare Before Christmas #Jack Skellington #long post #Tim Burton #Disney #Jack X Sally #Jack and Sally #Our Nightmare #fanfiction #fanfic #TNBC #Nightmare Before Christmas #Two Dearest Friends

37 notes · View notes